by Darrell Case
Thirty miles outside Harrisburg, he began looking for a convenience store with an outside restroom. Leaving the interstate, he found one in a quiet neighborhood. A little store no bigger than his home called 'Dad's Place.' He parked in the shadows beside the store, and walked to the corner. Glancing in the front window, he saw the clerk his head resting on his arms asleep. It was good thing for the kid that he was dozing. If he had been awake, he would have killed him and taken the money from the till. Just another robbery gone bad. He changed into the grungy disguise adjusting the road kill wig. Coming out of the restroom, he checked again. The clerk still slept.
He parked the Taurus on a back street three blocks from the police station and set the arming devise .One of his own creation. Anyone touching the car would receive a powerful electric shock. He designed it to stun not kill. They wouldn't try it again.
Within a minute, a patrol car pulled up beside the Taurus. The two cops didn't acknowledge him. Climbing into the back seat he quietly closed the door.
The police car made a U-turn and through the deserted streets. After being admitted to the underground garage the officer stopped in a spot by the elevator. Without a word, they led the shadow to a bare restroom. After checking inside the police officer handed him an orange jumpsuit.
Sean placed his clothes under the plastic bag from the waste can, He changed in to the orange jumpsuit and exited the restroom. The shadow placed his hand behind his back. The officer snapped on a set of handcuffs. In the elevator, they rode to the third floor. Escorting him by book in the officer guided the assassin through the sully port down the hallway past the sleeping prisoners. With a gentle tug on the cuffs, he stopped before a cell.
“Open 303” he said quietly into the radio.
Inside Peter Rule woke from a restless sleep.
“New roommate, be nice to him Rule,” the door sled closed. The shadow backed up to the cuff port, the officer removed the handcuffs. Free he rubbed his wrist. Peter glanced at the new arrival and decided he was harmless. That is until he saw the man's eyes. What he saw there sent chills racing up his spine. The killer smiled.
“Let's not waste time Mr. Rule I have a mission to complete and you're going to help me.”
“Mission? What mission?” Peter said glaring at the hippie. “Who are you?”
“Who I am is not important; my mission is to force you to confess.”
“You're crazy,” Peter shouted, jumping down from his bunk. His feet hit the floor with a slap. “I'm not going to confess to something I didn't do.”
“Oh yes, my friend, you are, if you want your wife and son to live.” With a shout, Peter rushed the man. Sean easily deflected the blow sending Peter into the bars. Stunned Peter regained his feet. He shook his head trying to focus his thoughts.
“Let's not be hasty Mr. Rule.” Reaching into the pocket of his jumpsuit, he pulled out a cell phone. Punching in a number, he offered it to the former teacher. Grudgingly Peter took the instrument.
The shadow gestured for him to hold the phone to his ear. Fearing it might explode Peter brought it up to his right ear.
In a deserted office, the police officer who brought the assassin in turned on a compact digital recorder. Carefully he held it up to a phone. Barbara and Chad Rule's voices screamed through the speaker. Peter almost dropped the cell phone in horror. Barb's voice rose over Chad's. ‘No, no no please leave us alone. Then Chad's. "Leave us alone.”
“Barb! Chad!”Peter cried. The phone clicked to silence.
“Who are you?” Peter asked his heart breaking, “Why are you doing this?”
“I'm death my friend, and unless you want me to visit your wife and son you’ll do will as I ask,” the shadow grinned.
“And as for why I'm doing this? I'm being paid very, very well.” Taking the disposable phone from Peter's limp fingers, he handed him a sheet of paper and a pen. “My associate is holding them in an out of the way location. They will be released unharmed if you cooperate.”
“How do I know you'll let them go?” Peter looked blankly at the man.
“You have my word.” He grinned showing blackened teeth.
“I'll not do it until I know their safe.” Peter said throwing down the pen.
Picking it up he handed it back to Peter. “Do it or I will kill your family.” The man, demanded his voice sharp as a knife
His hands trembling jolted to action Peter sat down at the small table his finger poised above the single sheet of paper. As the man, dictated Peter wrote.
"Barb, Chad
I know what I did was wrong.
I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.
I love you so much, I'm sorry to put you through so much pain.
This is the only way to make it right."
Your loving husband and father
Peter.
Standing to his feet, Peter faced the man. His entire body shaking he handed the man his confession.
Suddenly he felt a pain pinprick his forearm. He cried out in surprise. Carefully removing a ring from his left hand, Peter's murderer dropped it into a small box. Them putting the box in his pocket he smiled.
“Oh it doesn't kill, just paralyzes you. You will be awake but unfortunately there will be no last words other than your confession that is.”
He pushed Peter down on the lower bunk and ripped off the former teacher's pants.
Peter's eyes filled with terror. Tears leaked down his cheeks. Twisting one leg, the assassin knotted it around Peter's neck. He grinned. “By the way in case you were wondering your confession doubles as suicide note.”
A Christian, Peter was always prepared for death but never like this. He envisioned his last moments lying on his bed surrounded by his loving family. With his last breath winning one more relative or friend to The Lord. Not dying in a dirty jail cell at the hands of an assassin.
“That's the strange thing,” the shadow said grinning, “you can't move or speak yet, you see and feel everything.” Climbing to the top bunk, he threaded the other leg through the steel mesh of the fresh air vent. He jumped off the steel bunk, and landed lightly on the floor. Still holding the pants leg in his hand, he gave the loose leg of the pants a powerful yank.
Jerked to an upright position Peter felt darkness closing in. A strange buzzing filled his head. “You might be interested to know who wanted you dead.” Sean said looking into Peter's dying eyes. As the world turned black, he heard the shadow say “Jerald Robbins the president of the United States. This is an operation of his. A program named Death Watch.”
Ten feet away Jed Jensen listened, his ear pressed against the heat vent. Five moments later, he peeked out from under his single cover. The long haired man in the orange jumpsuit stopped by his cell. Jed quieted his trembling body he snorted as if in sleep. Satisfied the officer and Peter's executioner continued down the hallway. A lifelong drunk Jeb wondered how he could use what he overheard without putting himself in danger.
In their home on Elm Street Barb and Chad Rule slept soundly unaware of Peter's murder.
Chapter 11