by B J Bourg
With my head, I indicated our surroundings. “Is this where you’ve brought all of your victims? Even the ones from sixteen years ago?”
“Yeah, this is my den. This is where the magic happens.” He strode closer and regarded me with shrewd eyes. “I never would’ve thought to go after you, but the fact that you fell into my lap through that news report has to mean something. It’s fate, I think. A higher power wanted you and me to reunite. I want you to know that you’re a part of something very special. Your death will not be in vain. You’ll live on within me and we’ll do great things together.”
It was growing harder for me to hide my disdain for him. I forced a smile. “Well, you’re certainly something special. I don’t know that I’ve ever met a man who could swim across a raging river while carrying the body of another grown man.”
“I’ve got the feet for it, that’s for sure.” He put a hand to the wall and lifted the foot with the bandage so I could see it. “Kids in school used to tease me and say that I had fins for feet. One day, I decided to put that theory to the test. Turns out, they had been right all along. I realized I was as fast and as powerful a swimmer as most of the alligators in our swamps.”
Having witnessed the man in action, I couldn’t argue.
“Of course,” he continued, “I won’t be able to move around as well with these holes that you put in my foot, but they’ll be all healed up by this time next year and I’ll be back in business.”
“You know you don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.” He started to turn away again.
“Why’d you steal our boat when we were out there in the swamps? Were you scared that we would catch you?”
“Come on, detective, it isn’t exactly rocket science.”
“I think it’s because you wanted to take away our ability to pursue you. You knew our only chance of catching you out in the swamps was for us to do it by boat, so you took away our means of conveyance.”
“Right you are, Mr. Detective—” He suddenly stopped talking, leaned forward, and fingered a scar on my stomach. “You’ve been shot before, haven’t you?”
My mind instantly went back to that fateful day about five years earlier. I only nodded, not wanting to talk about it. The anniversary of the shooting was coming up. Since it happened on my birthday, I was reminded every year of how close I’d come to dying.
When I didn’t say anything, Trolley grunted and turned to walk back toward Gloria. Sensing I’d just lost his attention. I opened my mouth and called after him, but he dismissed me with a wave. “That’s enough talk for one day. I’ve got to start cooking supper.” He glanced over his right shoulder and shot me an evil wink. “I might even let you have a bite if you’re good. Once you get a taste of this tender human flesh, you won’t want any other kind of meat. Hell, I might even convert you. I could use the help, you know.”
Gloria was biting down on her lower lip, trying to remain brave as Trolley approached her table. He fingered a meat cleaver on a stainless steel tray for a long moment. Finally, he moved on to a carving knife and picked it up, testing the balance. He finally nodded and glanced down at Gloria. I could see thin streams of blood dripping down her chin from the bite wounds in her lip.
Trolley reached out and wiped the blood from her face with a finger. He licked it and smiled. “God, you taste so good!”
Gloria’s body suddenly began trembling like she was attached to the wrong end of a TASER, but she set her jaw and refused to cry anymore. It was as though she’d accepted her fate and knew there was no use fighting it any longer. She was going to go out with pride.
“How do you like your meat?” Trolley asked.
“Medium-well,” I said quickly, trying to attract his attention again. Images of my daughter flashed through my mind. I saw her taking the bus at five, starting middle school at eleven, graduating at seventeen, getting married at twenty-three—and I wasn’t there for any of it. I gritted my teeth. “I want to be cooked medium-well. Leave her alone and carve me up…please. I’m ready to go. Just please let her go. I won’t even fight it. Just let her leave. I promise she won’t say a word to anyone about any of this. Right, Gloria? Tell him you won’t say a thing about any of this.”
Trolley didn’t even look in my direction. With a calmness that caused me to shudder, he grabbed a handful of Gloria’s left breast in one hand and squeezed. He then placed the blade of the knife against her pale flesh. I couldn’t take it. There was no way I could lie still and watch this animal butcher an innocent girl. Although I was completely helpless in this situation, I still had use of my mouth, and I could at least try to pull his attention away from her.
“What’d your mom taste like, you big bastard?” I suddenly asked in a loud voice. “I bet she tasted like shit. If she gave birth to an asshole like you, she had to be completely rotten on the inside. I can’t believe you had the stomach to eat her. Hell, I bet the wolves didn’t even touch her. You should’ve just burned her ugly corpse and been done with it.”
Trolley froze in place, the sharp blade of the knife pressed firmly against Gloria’s flesh. He relaxed his grip on her breast and turned slowly to look over his shoulder. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, you big dumb ass.” I held my head up so I could look him directly in the eyes. “I said your mom must’ve tasted like shit to spawn a loser like you. You know why your sister got sick and died, don’t you? It was because of that garbage you fed her. No wonder she couldn’t keep her food down—the meat you served her was spoiled trash. It was pure poison. No amount of curing could’ve salvaged the garbage meat you took off of her bones.”
“You’d better shut your mouth!” he bellowed, his eyes turning to slits. “I’ll come over there and gut you like a catfish!”
“Bring it, bitch!” I said, snarling. “And when I get to hell, I’ll slap the shit out of your prick of a dad for raising such an asshole of a son. As for your sister, I bet you did unspeakable things to her after she died, you perverted little—”
Trolley let out a thunderous roar that drowned out the rest of my sentence. I’d done it—I’d hit the nerve for which I was searching and had drawn his attention away from the girl. He continued screaming as he charged straight for me, the shiny tip of his long knife leading the way. I took a long, sighing breath and lay back to accept my fate. This was not how I’d wanted to go out, but at least I’d be able to take solace in knowing my death had helped to provide a reprieve for Gloria—if only for a short time.
CHAPTER 50
Susan fought the panic that rose up in her chest. She was numb as she watched Melvin move frantically about the house looking for the electrical panel.
“Where is it?” Melvin asked. “Did any of you see it?”
The room spun. Susan wanted to holler at Melvin and demand to know why he had pulled them away from Clint’s vehicle. That had been Clint’s last known location and it would’ve been the logical place to begin searching for him. But here they were out at the house, all because Melvin thought the electricity had been on.
“Where is it?” Melvin bellowed, running in and out of the bedrooms. “It’s got to be here!”
“I found it!” Dawn Luke called from down the hall, causing a rumble of footsteps to head in that direction.
Her body operating on autopilot, Susan moved toward the voices of Dawn, Melvin, and Weaver. While she could hear them, she couldn’t make out their words because she was going over the conversation she would be forced to have with Grace when she was old enough to understand. How was she supposed to tell her daughter that her dad was gone forever? That he was never coming home? Susan knew how awful it felt to lose a dad at a young age, but she didn’t know how she was supposed to break the news to Grace. Her mom hadn’t told her, but that was only because Susan was with her dad when he died, so she didn’t have a speech from which to draw, something to help her make Grace understand.
“Chief, look at this!” Melvin’s voice broke through the fog i
n Susan’s mind. “Look at the breakers!”
Susan shook her head to clear it and then stepped between Dawn and Weaver. She followed Melvin’s finger. There were two rows of breakers in the panel. Worn stickers with faded writing indicated what each breaker controlled. A ringing phone brought Susan’s attention away from the panel for a brief second. It was Dawn’s phone. Dawn answered and stepped away. Susan glanced back toward the breaker box.
“Look at that one,” Melvin said. “It’s the only one that’s on.”
Susan squinted and leaned forward. Sure enough, every breaker had been flipped to the off position except for one. She pulled her light from her belt and used it to illuminate the sticker that corresponded with the breaker that was on. It read, Shed.
“Shed,” Susan said idly, considering the word. Her eyes suddenly widened. “There’s a shed in the back yard!”
As though someone had opened fire on their position, they all scattered like roaches and raced down the hall and out the back door, brushing against each other as they strove to be the first to reach the shed. Susan’s desperation, coupled with her intensely competitive nature, propelled her forward and past her comrades. She reached the shed first, pushed through a flimsy wooden door, and stared wildly around the tiny place. It was empty. She felt deflated.
“What the hell?” Melvin asked, standing with his mouth agape. “I thought for sure they’d be in here. Why else would the power be coming here?”
“I put in a call to the power company earlier to find out the name on the electricity bill.” Dawn held up her phone. “They just called—someone named Rhett Trolley is paying the bill for this house and the one across the street. Apparently, the utility account for this place is still registered in his father’s name—a Rhett Trolley, Sr.—but he’s paying the bill now.”
Susan barely heard what Dawn had said. She was too busy studying the walls of the shed. Something didn’t seem right. She turned and walked out the door. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she glanced toward the house. There, affixed to the outer wall at the back of the house, was a length of conduit that stretched from the soffit to the ground. She turned back to the shed and observed a piece of the same gray conduit coming up out of the ground. It extended upward to an elbow pipe, at which point it disappeared into the side wall of the shed. She entered the shed again, but didn’t see where it entered the building.
“Something’s not right here.” Susan walked back outside and frowned. “The shed seems a lot bigger on the outside. I think there’s a false wall inside, possibly on the southern side.”
Melvin rushed into the shed and began touching the southern wall. Susan joined him and was about to say something when she heard a noise. It was obvious everyone else heard the noise, too, because they all froze in place.
“It sounds like a wolf howling, but where in the hell is it coming from?” Susan asked, running her nails across the upper edge of the plywood that covered the southern wall. “I can’t tell if the sound’s even coming from in here.”
Susan stopped when she felt a latch above her head. Waving Melvin over, she directed him to hold onto the wall while she carefully manipulated the latch. The wall panel broke free and leaned in Susan’s direction.
After exchanging looks with Melvin, Susan walked backward and lowered the plywood as she moved. She gasped when a thick wooden door came into view. There was a knob and a deadbolt on the right side and it appeared the door had been used recently. From behind Susan, Dawn told Weaver to follow her and they rushed out of the shed.
Susan barely noticed, because her heart was thumping in her chest. Could Clint be on the other side of this door? And where did it lead? She grabbed the knob and turned, but it was locked. She cursed silently and stepped back. She pushed against the door with her hands, testing its strength. It was solid. She didn’t know if she could kick it open.
Just then, a bellowing cry sounded from somewhere under their feet. It was so sudden and foreboding that it startled Susan and she cursed out loud. A sense of urgency flooding over her, she stepped back and kicked the door as hard as she could. While it rocked under the force of the kick, it held fast. She was about to kick it again when Dawn appeared wielding a shotgun.
“Someone’s under the floor!” Susan said. “We need to get this door open!”
Dawn nodded quickly and shouldered the shotgun. Everyone backed away as she sent a 1-oz slug tearing through the wood near the top hinge on the left side of the door. She quickly pumped the shotgun and fired a second shot at the middle hinge, sending chips of wood exploding into the air. After sending a third slug into the door near the lower hinge, she then stepped back and waved Susan on.
Susan rushed forward and drove her boot heel violently into the left side of the door. It creaked loudly and moved inward a few inches. A surge of adrenalin and hope flooded over Susan and she delivered a second kick to the door. This time, it crashed inward and revealed a dark hole descending into the ground.
Not waiting to see if anyone was following her, Susan drew her pistol, snatched her flashlight from her belt, and rushed down a wooden ladder that protruded from the earth. A chorus of confused and angry cursing sounded from somewhere below Susan and she readied her pistol as she reached the landing.
The beam of Susan’s light looked like a light saber as she waved it around the dark and dusty enclosure, searching for the source of the angry curses. She was in a narrow hallway that appeared to open into a dimly lit room about ten feet away. She slowed her pace just a little, not wanting to walk blindly into an ambush. They had created quite a bit of noise trying to gain entry, so the suspect would no doubt be lying in wait.
As Susan neared the triangle of potential death that lay before her, she was aware that Melvin, Dawn, and Weaver were all making their way down the ladder behind her, and she knew they would be upon her soon. She had almost reached the edge of the door frame when the room suddenly went black. Someone had turned off the lights!
She froze and squatted to her knees, accessing all of her senses in an attempt to weigh the danger that surrounded her. From somewhere in the room she could hear a muffled voice, but she couldn’t be sure what it was saying. It was followed shortly by a sickening thud and then a groan.
Footsteps shuffled quietly behind her and she felt a hand on her shoulder. The others were ready. She was about to flip on her flashlight and burst into the room when a thought occurred to her. This hallway was as dark as coal and it would be beneficial to have a light switch at the entrance to the room. If she could find the switch and turn it on, they would be able to see into the room again. Since she was still in the shadows, she would have the advantage, because it might surprise and blind the suspect.
Running her hand gently up along the wall, she felt for a switch. Her hand slid up and down and then left to right until she finally felt one. She took a breath and flipped the switch on. The room was suddenly cloaked in light again and a gasp ripped from her throat when she saw a huge creature standing ten feet in front of her. Before she could lunge to her feet and level her pistol, it was upon her.
CHAPTER 51
“I’m going to rise up and choke you from the inside,” I said in a growling tone as Trolley approached me with evil intentions. He flipped his knife around and raised it in a chopping motion. “You’re such a big man, aren’t you? Going to stab me while I’m tied up. Why don’t you untie me and see what happens? I’ll whip your cowardly ass all over this room!”
He was standing above me now, an evil glint in his eye. He lifted the knife above his head and it clanked against the roof. “You know, I’m going to really enjoy killing you and I’m going to savor every bite of your miserable—”
A muffled thump sounded from somewhere above them and cut off Trolley’s words. Trolley whipped around in shock, as though he never expected for someone to come knocking. He moved quickly to his wig and pulled it over his head. He then shrugged into his large coat and snatched up the knife again. He had barely taken a step
toward the door when a thunderous blast sounded from somewhere overhead. It was at that moment that I realized I was underground—possibly in a tornado shelter.
Two more shots sounded and my ears rang. Trolley was staring frantically around, looking for a place to hide, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped down here with Gloria and me. I opened my mouth to speak, but he was ready for it. He cupped a giant hand over my mouth to muffle me while he reached for a roll of gray tape with his other hand. He then roughly wrapped tape around my face, muzzling me. I heard footsteps descending the stairs and Trolley crouched low and moved stealthily forward, waiting to ambush whoever it was coming toward him.
I began jerking my hands and kicking my feet and grunting as loud as I could to warn the approaching person. Trolley didn’t like it. He leaned toward me and smashed the butt of the knife against my head. A bright light flashed in my head and I grew dizzy. I tried to mumble a warning, but only a low moan squeezed up through my throat and died on my side of the gray tape.
I forced my eyes open and glanced around. The room spun, but I could make out Trolley’s large figure as he backed up toward the far wall. He reached for something and I realized there was a light switch on the wall. The room was suddenly cloaked in darkness. My heart pounded in my chest as fear gripped me like a bear trap. Who was coming down that hallway? Was it Weaver and Melvin? I couldn’t see Trolley anymore, but I could hear his heavy breathing and I knew he was making his way to the opening in the hallway to set up his ambush.
I was about to strain against my tape when the room was flooded with light again. I squinted as the brilliance blinded me, but there was no mistaking what I saw. Susan was crouched near the opening to the hall and Trolley was standing out in the open, apparently caught by surprise. But he didn’t waste time recovering. Before Susan could push herself off the ground, Trolley lunged forward and was on top of her in an instant.