Page 38 of Jace 4Ever
Noah: Jace. Are you daft. You know we would have all helped you!
Jace: I know, but it was time I started to do things on my own.
What a bad choice that was.
Noah: We clearly need to chat, but go. Get this done and pay it back. Please don’t be afraid to ask us, Jace. We know your brother is a piece of shit.
Noah: We’re all here for you. No matter what.
Jace: Thanks, man. It’s all good now. Chat later.
He hadthe check in his hand, and he put it in the night deposit envelope. I didn’t know why he had a night deposit envelope, but I didn’t want to ask either.
This was my last day chained to this horrible job. Tonight, after wrap, I would box up my personal shit and go. I would never come back.
The problem was that we were working on a pseudo snuff film. I hated them with a passion, and the poor girl on the bed looked positively ready to piss herself.
I set my lighting and stepped back.
These weren’t real snuff films. The special effects were all there to make it look like they were real, but I had seen editing and there was a disclaimer on the front that no one was killed. I had also seen the ‘victim’ get up after filming and go home that night.
They still made me sick. That people would get off on this kind of stuff was just not right. I didn’t usually kink shame—God knew I was wearing pink panties and loved wearing thigh highs—but this was a hard limit for me.
The shadows at the corner of the set were the best place for me on things like this. My real lighting skills weren’t needed. The more poorly lit it was, the better off we were. The better off I was.
As I watched the filming progress, I started to realize that this girl wasn’t faking her fear. Not even a little.
“Jace?” Marilyn was right next to me and there was pure terror in the whisper of my name.
I canted my head in her direction. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“She’s not faking, Jace. Not at all. Those aren’t fake razors…”
“Hell.” Turning just enough for my words to carry to her and her alone, I grabbed her wrist. “Back up, against the wall. I want you to get outside and call the police. Tell them where we are. They won’t notice if you’re gone as much as they would me.”
She nodded quickly and slipped back. I heard the door to the left, and no light leaked through. She was good.
But what could I do at this point? I had to do something. This girl’s terror was real. I glanced around, and over by the emergency exit was a red box.
The fire ax.
Could I get it out and kill the power without breaking the glass? Using the shadows, I slipped back toward the box and studied it. It looked like I could jam it open with a flat head screwdriver.
I tried to keep my movements nonchalant as I walked to my toolbox and grabbed the strongest flat head I owned. I went straight for the box, and I was right. With a shove, a twist, and a pry, the lock was popped and the door fell open.
The ax was heavy, but I could lift it just once to drop it on the power cord for the camera set up. I’d be able to get it back in the box and no one would know.
The connection for the power went behind the curtain by the door that Marilyn had used. No one would see me drop this thing. I had to make sure that I let go of the handle before it actually split the cord to avoid electrocution.
Holding it over my head, I brought it down hard and let go just a few inches off the cord. It must have been a new hatchet because it cut through the cord and into the cement a little.
There wasn’t even a shower of sparks. It just sliced it and I could hear the hum of the power die. The ax head was stuck just a little, and I was glad I was wearing my real rubber sole boots. I needed both hands to jerk the whole thing back out.
“Hold!” the camera man called.
It was clear this ax was made for breaking through walls and doors. I finally wrestled it back into the box and closed the panel back up. I hadn’t destroyed the lock. It snapped right back in.
“What?” Denis screamed.
