Parallax

By Tiffany Pitts

Kix Welty is Seattle's fastest pizza delivery driver, an easy feat for someone who's recently learned how to teleport. When a friend's child is kidnapped out of school, Kix knows she can help find him. She's ready to make the switch from pizza hero to super her

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tiffany Pitts
• Release date: Nov 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9780997652055

Book preview

Parallax

Tiffany Pitts

Copyright © 2020 Tiffany Pitts.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at www.tiffanypitts.com.

ISBN: 978-0-9976520-5-5 (eBook)

ISBN: 978-0-9976520-6-2 (Paperback)

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

Cover design by Steven Barker.

Author photo by Lara Grauer.

Technical advisor photo by Matthew Browning.

This book is dedicated to my two favorite partners in crime.

To Candy Sunik.

Candy, you have supported me without question since the day we met. I am forever grateful for your friendship.

And to Thor Michaelson.

Who’s the best boy?

You are.

Pool Party

I

CAN’T HAVE HER shooting off her mouth like that, you understand?"

Completely.

I mean, she’s talking crazy. Like stealing babies and selling them on the black-market stuff. She can’t spread lies like that. I won’t have it.

No, of course not.

"It’s not true. None of it. I don’t have kids here. Everyone knows that. I know how these rumors get started. I make very sure there are no kids here. Brock checks everyone at the door. She’s telling people preposterous things. She can’t do that. You understand?"

Yes, I do.

Good. Just so we’re on the same page. The man smiled his trademark smile and led the way down an ornately tiled hallway.

Now in here is the electrical panel for the main house. The pool is separate from the house, but I’ll show you that one in a minute.

Deke knew this was a snow job. He even knew how it would go down. But you don’t get to Jerry Cassidy for more than twenty minutes without some serious cash changing hands. In this situation, the cash was changing into Deke’s hands, so for now he kept his mouth shut and paid attention to the corners of the room that attracted Cassidy’s attention as he talked. A random stack of books in the living room, a monstrous lamp in the dining room, the stupid fake anchor thing on the wall of the pool house. Deke didn’t look directly at the spots. He didn’t need to. He knew there would be cameras there. He also knew that Jerry Cassidy was a dumbass who didn’t understand how his own security system worked.

She’ll be here by two. I told her we were having a private pool party, so you need to be dressed for it. Relaxed, you know? Look like you own the place. Like you’re in the mood to party. Otherwise, she’s gonna get suspicious.

She’s a blackmailing hooker, not a criminal mastermind, thought Deke. But it was clear that Cassidy had rehearsed this part a few times so, Deke let him get it out of his system. The more he talked, the more he revealed himself anyway. By now he could read the double cross in the cleft of the man’s chin.

Cassidy stopped walking across the room and turned to Deke, poorly feigned inspiration wiggling through his eyebrows.

Actually, that’s a good idea. Why don’t you heat things up a little? Throw her off the scent.

There’s an increase in price if you want bodily fluids involved.

Are you kidding? This woman knows her way around a bedroom, if you know what I mean. There’s a reason she was invited here in the first place and it ain’t because of her potato salad.

I don’t like getting caught with my pants down, Jerry. Four hundred. Up front like the rest.

Come on man. At this point it’d be cheaper to give this dumb broad what she wants.

Both men knew that wouldn’t happen, so Deke felt no need to respond. After a moment of silence, Cassidy laughed. You’re a tough bastard. That’s why I like you. He pulled a wallet out of his pants pocket and extracted four crisp bills.

Make sure you don’t waste my money, he said and handed them over.

* * *

Valerie showed up exactly when she was supposed to, looking exactly as slutty as she was supposed to. She was older than Deke expected, but her bikini top was tiny enough to draw attention away from her crow’s feet. She stood at the front door in her short shorts and gauzy cover-up while Deke took a sip of his drink and dripped pool water all over the marble tile.

Where’s Jerry? she said.

Change of plans, said Deke. Apparently, he had to fly off to San Rio or someplace fancy so he isn’t framed for your murder.

Excuse me? She did not walk into the foyer. "Who are you?"

I’m the guy who’s supposed to murder you.

That isn’t funny. I’m out of here, she said and turned to walk back down the steps. Deke stayed at the top of the stairs and took another sip of his drink.

Okay, have it your way, he said. But if it ain’t me, it’s gonna be someone else. And I can guarantee you, the next guy isn’t gonna be as persuadable as I am.

Valerie stopped mid-stride and turned on her platform heels. What are you saying?

I’m saying our host isn’t here, which is unfortunate because he recently had some sort of electrical glitch with his security system. His cameras keep shutting themselves off.

Valerie did not step forward, but neither did she step away.

"C’mon. One drink? Maybe a little chat. I think you’ll find that I’m a great listener. I like interesting stories. Especially if they’re about important people." Deke smiled his best conspiratorial smile and gestured toward the foyer behind him with his glass.

Valerie sized him up for another moment. Then she smiled back and walked into the house.

Kix Is Learning

K

IX AND JAKE SAT ON THE COUCH in the living room of the Dungeon apartment, although it was much less dungeony than it had been at any time in the past. This is because Jake spent most of November replacing the windows. Once the windows were in, the natural light (what little they got in winter) showed off the shabbiness of the floors, so he tore up the threadbare carpet and put in bamboo. After the flooring went in, he rebuilt the computer command station even larger than before. And just like that, what was once a filthy lair of janky computer parts ended up a pretty slick work space.

If anyone had asked Jake why he was working so hard to update the apartment, Because I have a girlfriend now would not have been his answer—but everyone knew it was true. Even his mom, Gloria Denny, had noticed. She’d been more than happy to bankroll the remodeling if it meant Jake started taking an interest in things besides his little video games.

Unfortunately for Gloria, the only thing Jake was interested in right now was his score in Wall Street Werewolves, the new game Sacha had been designing as a TerrorCity spinoff.

He’d started out strong, but after Kix joined him on the couch, his winning streak began to tank. Jake thought this might have something to do with her legs draped over his lap, but he wasn’t going to mention it because then she might move them.

What are you up to this evening? said Kix. She yawned and poked at her controller. Onscreen, her character swung its vorpal blade and beheaded three of Jake’s skeleton rats at once.

Beating you at this game, said Jake, concentrating on the screen.

You’re cute. She flicked a finger across the buttons detonating a nuclear dustbin, killing another five of his skeleton rats and hitting his werewolf accountant with a whopping 282 damage.

Where did you get a nuclear dustbin?

Across the lava pits in the boiler room. The door at the back leads you to the mail room. Talk to Johnny, the CEO’s undead nephew. You have to deliver his mail for a week, but after that he gives you keys to the supply closet.

How did you figure that out? Show me how to get to the lava pits.

I can’t. I said I’d meet Sacha at five.

What? Why?

He talked with Connie yesterday.

Ooh, said Jake, flinching in slow motion. How is he doing?

Connie Caufield used to live next door to Sacha. After all the weirdness of last winter, she and Sacha started hanging out a lot. No one was really sure if they were dating, but it was nice seeing Sacha get out of his kitchen for a change.

Then, just when things started to look good, an up-and-coming law practice on the East Coast offered Connie a position. It wasn’t her dream job, but it was a big step toward it. When Sacha found out, he congratulated her heartily and headed back to his apartment to cook a celebratory meal. He hadn’t stopped cooking since. Connie now lived in Boston with some rando named Marcell, and everyone in Seattle had gained four pounds.

Well, he’s making chili and cornbread poppers, so there’s that. But he sounded pretty upbeat. I guess Connie gave him an idea about my—she drew lazy circles in the air and pointed toward herself— "situation, and he thinks we should try it out."

Jake pretended he didn’t know what she meant by situation and focused on his skeleton rat army. He only had twelve rats left.

Kix poked him in the thigh with her toe. Come on, she said. Cornbread poppers? Last time he made those you ate half a dozen. I thought you’d be excited about this.

I am, said Jake. It’s just...

Kix stopped smiling. Jake knew his unenthusiastic reply would touch a nerve but he didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t safe to mess around with things you don’t fully understand. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

She finished off his werewolf accountant and fought the koala boss without uttering another word. After she defeated him, she dropped the controller onto the couch and sat up.

I’m gonna head up, she said. You can come if you like. If you’re uncomfortable with it, you don’t have to. But it’s almost five and I have to go. Jake sneezed. When he opened his eyes, Kix was gone.

Dammit. What was he supposed to do when she got all reasonable like that?

The truth was, Jake wasn’t just scared. He was terrified. His stupid physics experiment last winter had put everyone in massive amounts of danger. Like Kix-getting-slightly-murdered danger. Also, there had been zombies. And a gigantic spider. And Carl wouldn’t stop singing. The whole incident had been deeply unsettling, and Jake was doing his best to forget it ever happened. Unfortunately, that was proving to be supremely difficult because, after the events of that fateful evening were finally over, Kix still had her ability.

No one thought it would last—least of all Jake. All the other crazy things that happened that night stopped happening soon after it was over, so why wouldn’t that? But it didn’t. At all.

Kix could still teleport.

Worse yet, she’d been practicing.

Lately, she’d talked about trying to teleport places she’d never been. Jake had balked at that. He knew he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t help it. The universe wasn’t just large, it was infinite. What if she thought of the wrong thing at the wrong time and ended up back in that zombie world? He did not want any of those monsters popping back in for a visit. Or that damn spider.

Jake shivered. Then he sighed.

Even if it meant battling the undead, he would still rather be upstairs with his girlfriend than downstairs alone. He stood up and went to get his shoes

.

Practice

W

HAT, LIKE TRAVELMANIA or something?" said Jake.

What’s that gonna do?

TravelMania lets you upload your own pictures from anywhere in the world. If it’s relevant to the entry and within their decency guidelines, they let you post it.

Kix sat cross-legged on Sacha’s futon, her eyes glued to the screen of her laptop, clicking through pages. Jake tried not to notice how comfortable she looked. Kix could be friends with whomever she wanted. He just didn’t understand why she wanted to be friends with Sacha.

That’s what gave me the idea! said Sacha. Connie said she went to Faneuil Hall yesterday, and that it felt like she’d already been there because she read so much about it online.

Jake sat up. So, you look at a bunch of pictures and suddenly you can teleport there? I thought you had to go there first. That’s what you said, right? You have to experience it first?

"That’s how I have to do it right now, said Kix. It’s easier to remember the feel of a place—it’s much harder to imagine it into existence. But I think that’s why Sacha’s theory might work. Maybe if I can see a place from a ton of different angles, I could imagine it better."

It’s just an idea, said Sacha. He sat on the floor in front of the couch and pulled up an entry for the Eiffel Tower on his laptop. Kix leaned over to study the pictures.

"I think it’s brilliant, and yes! she said, pointing to his computer screen. I totally want to go to Paris. There must be like, a billion pictures of the Eiffel Tower."

France? said Jake.

Heck yeah! said Kix. She was smiling now. You got something against France?

It’s five thousand miles away.

So?

So, what if something goes wrong? What if you end up in the wrong place and get hit by a truck? What if, instead of Paris, you end up back with the zombies? How are we supposed to get to you?

That’s a good point, said Sacha. Maybe we should play it safe and start with someplace local. We don’t need another apocalypse.

"Are you two ever going to let that go? It was one stupid zombie. Sheesh. Kix rolled her eyes. If it makes you feel better, we’ll look for someplace local…and then France."

She twisted around on the couch so that Jake could see her laptop screen and started looking up local attractions. On the floor, Sacha spread out and started his own search.

Have you seen the Fremont Troll? said Jake.

Took my oldest brother there when he visited two years ago.

How about the Underground Seattle tour? said Sacha.

Mom and Dad, when they came out in January. She clicked through links to different tourist destinations around the city.

Wait a minute, said Kix. Look at this.

Jake leaned in. Maybe, he said.

"Maybe? It’s perfect! Sacha, check it out." She spun her laptop around to face Sacha. The pictures on screen featured two gravestones with names etched in both English and Chinese.

Sacha leaned in. Bruce and Brandon Lee?

Kix nodded. Yes! I’ve never been there, have you?

How many photos are there? said Jake. Kix clicked through to the photo album and began opening images.

About eighty. Sacha, clicked through to the map. They aren’t too far from here. We could walk over there and wait to see if you show up.

What, like right now? said Jake.

Sure, why not? said Sacha.

It’s raining.

I don’t know if you’re aware, Jake, but this is Seattle. It does that here, said Sacha.

It’s still light outside, said Jake. What if someone sees us?

It’s five thirty on a rainy Wednesday evening. I don’t think there are going to be a ton of people there.

My point exactly! What if we can’t get in? The gates might be locked by now.

Jake, I’m sensing that you don’t want to do this, said Kix.

It’s okay, said Sacha. I’ll go meet you in the spooky cemetery all by myself, Kix. I’m not afraid. I’ll even hold your hand on the walk back home in case you get scared.

Kix rolled her eyes again and gave Sacha the finger. Jake stood up.

That isn’t funny. he said and grabbed his coat.

***

An hour later, both men wished they’d thought to bring heavier coats as they stomped their feet and tried to keep warm. They’d been standing around the graveyard for an hour and a half now with no luck. Kix texted twice but only to say she needed a few more minutes.

Man, I’m turning into an ice cube, said Sacha.

Let’s go home, said Jake.

Sacha looked like he wanted to protest, but he only had a thin leather jacket on. Yeah, let’s get out of here. This place is dead.

Ha ha, said Jake.

They trudged home, neither of them energetic enough to complain. When they finally reached Sacha’s apartment, they found Kix still sitting in front of the screen studying pictures.

"I’m so sorry, guys. I tried and tried. I almost made it there," she said, still studying the pictures on screen. Jake looked at Sacha, who made little go-talk-to-her motions with his hands. He walked over and shivered in front of her computer until Kix looked up.

Oh my gosh, you’re freezing cold, said Kix.

I’m going downstairs to put some dry clothes on, he said. Then I am going to have a beer.

Good idea, said Kix.

Would you like to join me? he said. Kix stared at him. The hunt in her eyes slowly dimmed as her attention came back to the room. The corners of her eyes turned up and she smiled.

Sure, she said. Race you downstairs.

Jake and Sacha both sneezed heartily.

"That’s cheating," Sacha yelled.

Jake made it downstairs in twenty-eight seconds. Kix was sitting on the couch when he arrived. He wanted to offer her some words of encouragement like, Hey, you’ll get this next time, but he didn’t. He told himself it was because his teeth were chattering too much.

Oh Jake, you poor thing. Come here, she said and patted the couch. He flopped onto it. She gave him a huge hug, and the warmth of her body pressed against him made some of his outer edges thaw. He buried his face into her neck and breathed deeply.

There will never be anything as wonderful as this, he thought. Immediately, his spirits fell. What if this is the last time I see her? What if she learns how to get to France and leaves tomorrow?

You should take a hot shower, said Kix. It will warm you up.

G-good idea, he said. He stayed in her arms for a minute more before getting up and plodding to the bathroom.

Five minutes later, he was still thawing in the shower when he heard a small knock at the bathroom door. A rush of cold air filled the room as the door opened and closed.

Mind if I join you?

Jake watched in awe as Kix, beautiful naked Kix, stepped into the shower with him.

I was wrong, he thought. There will never be anything as wonderful as this.

Breaking News

A

ND FOLKS, IF YOU’RE HEADED out to the Tualatin Valley this weekend, make sure to pack your sunscreen along with your wine glasses. Looks like lots of sun and no clouds—perfect weather for some wine tasting! I’m Ra’ad Brently with the weather."

"Thank you, Ra’ad. And now KETV brings you breaking news. We are getting reports of a disturbance at the home of Hollywood royalty, Jerry Cassidy. It appears that early yesterday morning, a woman was found lifeless in his backyard. As of now, details are scarce, but we do know that Cassidy is currently out of the country.

Jerry Cassidy has written, starred in and directed some of the most influential movies of this decade…."

Deke sat on the edge of the hotel bed as the newswoman introduced a laundry list of Cassidy’s movies before cutting to an overly tanned reporter, standing in front of a gated driveway, interviewing an LAPD officer. The reporter soon suggested maybe it was an overdose, and the officer agreed with a short, Looks like it.

This part wasn’t new for Deke. He often saw his work on the news. But he was disappointed at the presentation. These people weren’t even trying. Overdose? Unless Cassidy’s goons had drained the blood from the hot tub, all anyone had to do was peek over the fence to know that wasn’t exactly true. Deke switched to another news station. Their report mirrored the first: woman found dead, most likely an overdose; Cassidy couldn’t have done it because he wasn’t there. Deke wondered how much it was costing Cassidy to keep the American Media Machine at bay. He hoped it was quite a lot.

Still, everything had gone so smoothly that he almost felt bad. Valerie told him about the boy within minutes. She even gave him the address of the café. The job he’d been paid for was done within the hour. The first time Cassidy tried calling, Deke was already north of Bakersfield. The calls increased as Cassidy realized that instead of incriminating evidence from his network of hidden cameras and a patsy, all he had was four hours of recorded static and a nice little circus forming on his front lawn. Deke didn’t care. He’d simply silenced his phone and drove on.

That’s what happens when you try to screw over Deacon Johnson.

He snapped the television off and hopped in the shower. Not until he got out, did he switch his phone back on. There were forty-three new messages waiting for him, all from the same number. As he scrolled through the call log, another came in. Deke kept the ringer off and took his time drying. He climbed back into his clothes before finally answering.

Good evening, Jerry, he said brightly. What can I do for you?

When I find you, I’m going to kill you. But first, I’m gonna cut your balls off. I am not someone you want to mess with, Deacon, do you hear me?

Everyone within a three-block radius can hear you, Jerry—you’re shouting. Just calm down and tell me exactly what’s wrong. Deke found a pair of socks in his bag and sat at the end of the bed. He began pulling them onto his feet.

"What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! You fucked up, that’s what’s wrong. We had a deal. And you fucked it up. I said no blood. You promised me that wouldn’t be a problem."

"No, Jerry, I said It shouldn’t be problem. Not that it wouldn’t. Some situations have extenuating circumstances."

"Fuck off with your extenuating circumstances. I’m sweating balls over here, and you’re telling me extenuating circumstances? When are you going to come clean up this bullshit mess?"

I’m not, Jerry. You paid me for a job, and I did it. Our contract has been fulfilled. Deke slipped his shoes on and headed back to the bathroom.

Like hell it is. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to roast you, you slimy, cock-sucking, horseshit lowlife.

Why does everyone want to talk to me like that? I have a college degree, you know. I understand words that have more than four letters.

"I’m gonna take your college degree and shove it up your ass. You got two choices here, buddy. You can either get down here and deal with this mess, or I start telling the police about that mysterious person I saw lurking around the night that bitch died. Capiche?"

Don’t do that, Jerry. You’re not Italian.

You think this is a damn joke? You and I both know I’m covered. I’ve been out of town this entire time. But not you. You’ve been all over my house. Your fingerprints are everywhere.

You sure about that? said Deke.

Don’t gimme that BS! Your fingerprints are all up and down this fucking house.

On the gun, too?

Fuck you, said Jerry. That is none of your concern.

"Wait, have they even found the gun?"

"Oh my God, listen to yourself. Have they found the gun? Of course they have! Your goddamn fingerprints are all over it you murdering slimeball."

"That’s not nice, Jerry. I wouldn’t lie to you. You and I both know they haven’t found it."

Cassidy didn’t snap back this time, and Deke knew he was finally listening.

What did you do?

I did what you paid me to do. You wanted me to get close to her, remember? Throw her off the scent, isn’t that what you said? I told you it wasn’t a good idea, but you insisted.

I paid you good money for that, Deke. Good money.

Yes, it was good money. I have to hand it to you, Jer, I can see why you liked her. The way you described her, I thought for sure she was gonna be a tweaker with no teeth.

It don’t matter what she looks like. I’m telling you, that bitch is nuts. None of her bullshit is true.

"She was nuts, Jerry. It’s past tense now, I’m afraid."

"Which you fucked up. You were supposed to make it look like she drowned."

Oh, I didn’t fuck that up. You did.

What?

Deke zipped up his duffle bag and slipped on his coat. He tossed the room key in the middle of his unmade bed and left without turning off the lights.

"See, the thing is, Jer, you were already paying me to take care of the job. So why would you bother to pay me to have sex with a prostitute you knew was going to die?"

"You told me I had to, you asshole."

"Only because you insisted. I probably would have done it anyway and just not told you about it. But you insisted, Jerry. Why would you do that?"

The engine roared to life, and Deke dropped it into reverse. He put the phone on speaker as he backed out of the parking spot and headed toward the main road.

I don’t know, Wise Guy. Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one who’s got this all figured out.

Because you wanted me indisposed when your little squad of army men showed up.

I got army men now? That’s just stupid.

No, their little uniforms are stupid. Did you get a deal on ear comms or something? I watched them surround the house, Jerry, don’t try to play dumb.

I got no idea what you’re talking about.

"Eight years, Jerry. You ignore her for eight years, and now suddenly you need her gone? Why the hurry?"

I told you, she can’t run her mouth like that. Some of the things she was saying, they were costing me money.

"What kind of evidence did she find, Jerry? Because I think that’s the real story here. She had hard evidence that