Chapter Sixty-Seven
Wallace walked slowly down the corridor, dragging his fingers across the wall as he went. Lost in his own little world, he couldn't yet comprehend what he had just done. His best friend and mentor was dead, and even though Wallace hadn't done the act himself, he felt Blake's blood on his hands all the same. Pity it had come to this, really it was such a shame.
Blake had deserved better, much better. If only he had let Alice go, instead of foolishly getting involved, even after Wallace had made it clear that he and Alice were a couple. If only Blake had minded his own business. But no, he had to poke his nose into everything. Really it was Blake's fault, it was the only explanation Wallace had. He had given Blake so many chances, and warned him so many times. No one would be able to say that Wallace hadn't tried.
Thinking back to the Monday after Christmas, Wallace could recall exactly what he had told Blake, and he was sure he had made it quite clear that Blake was to stay away from his girl. Of course, Blake had been nothing but polite during their entire 'conversation' and had sworn to leave Alice alone. Things had gone pretty well after that too, until his damn car broke down. Sam reported their little kiss, and at the time, Wallace decided to wait. A friendly kiss on the head wasn't really that bad, after all. And, Wallace hoped that Alice would remain his. After all, he was the one that had been taking care of her, not Blake. Alice made her choice obvious, however, when she accepted a ride from Blake instead of coming to the bar with Wallace. And after that, Wallace had no choice but to bring her back in. He'd kill every single person that got involved if it meant keeping Alice to himself.
Shuffling feet, coming from behind him, made Wallace stop in his tracks and turn. The three agents were approaching him, dragging Blake's lifeless body across the floor. Blake's body looked more like a rag doll than a human being, and Wallace had to force himself to appear placid as the group caught up to him. “Sir.” The man with the bat said, still panting from his labor. “Compactor, or what?”
Wallace thought for only a few moments, allowing his men to catch their breath. “When is the scow coming?”
“Not till next week, Sir.”
“Lets not have him stinking up the place then. Send him out on the next dump run.” Dump runs were what they called the bi-weekly trips out to New Coves. Usually, one of the Agents would run a yacht out, disposing of anything small that needed to be gotten rid of quickly. The currents would drag everything out to sea, making it the perfect dumping ground for The Pit.
The men resumed their walk, leaving behind them a trail of blood from Blake's body. He'd have to get someone to clean it up before the end of the night. But first, he desperately needed to go find Alice. She always had a way of making things better, even when she was in a foul mood. Hopefully, a little TLC had cheered her up.
Sighing, Wallace resumed his walk as well, making sure to move at a slower pace than the men hauling Blake. What a God-damned rotten day this had turned out to be. Truly, Wallace wished that things could have turned out differently. In the beginning, he had hoped that Alice, Blake, and himself could have struck up an accord. Wallace had pictured Blake standing at the altar as his best man. He had planned on leaving this place months ago, when his relationship with Alice had turned out pretty serious, but so far hadn't found the ability to do so.
He felt like he was the last sane person here. The only one of the originals left to stand up and make sure the rules were followed. Wallace knew all too well that if he left now, The Pit would turn into chaos. Already he had seen evidence of it today. Too many men were being allowed in without the full understanding of the rules. No, now he was the only one left to keep sanity in The Pit, and however much he hated being here now, he'd have to stay. At least until he found someone responsible enough to take over for him.
Then, of course, he'd have to deal with the money issue too. Medical bills weren't cheap, and Wallace had enough of them to fill his entire apartment up. Being sick sucked, and it was only going to get worse from here. Again, the thought of finding his replacement surfaced. Even if he did find someone though, then what about Alice? He couldn't just haul her back out and expect her to act like nothing happened. She wouldn't stay with him on her own free will. At least not yet. Maybe with time . . . but ah yes. There wasn't much time left anyway. At this point, Wallace knew he would stay here and run The Pit, and keep Alice by his side, until the day he died. His only hope was that when they found his body, he wouldn't be tossed into the compactor like a piece of garbage, or tossed into the Atlantic for the fish to feast on.