Book Read Free

The complete “A Glimpse into Hell” series - 5 books, 195 chapters, 1700 pages, 600K words of pure gore

Page 155

by Garrett, Wade H.


  Book Five – The Reckoning

  Hardcore

  Richard Durban had been looking forward to this day for a long time as he packed up some of his personal items in his cell. He had been incarcerated in the TDCJ Coffield Unit in Palestine, Texas for the last nine years. He was getting out early because the prison system was overcrowded, but he still had to serve seven years on probation.

  He looked in a mirror as he stood shirtless, thinking how he was in his mid-fifties and had spent much of his life behind bars. Being in prison was all he knew. It felt more like home than being on the outside. This was his fifth time serving, and he knew he’d probably be back one day, but it was going to be a nice change having his freedom for a while. He rubbed his bald head, then ran his fingers through his long gray and black goatee to straighten it out. He admired the way he looked. His arms, chest and neck were muscular. He smiled as he looked at his tattoos. He had a teardrop under his left eye and two lightning bolts on the left side of his head. His neck, chest and upper arms were covered with flames and tribal artwork. His stomach had a large swastika and his forearms were littered with white pride symbols. His hands were covered with spider webs and his fingers spelled HARDCORE when he held his fists next to each other. He got off on looking like a tough guy and being intimidating.

  A man came into his cell. He was just as rough looking as Richard. “Hey brother, you ready to fly this coop?”

  Richard put on a shirt. “Hell yeah!”

  “You got a ride?”

  “Yeah. Couple of buddies comin’ to pick me up.”

  “Where’re you going to be stayin’?”

  “Headin’ to Houston.”

  “Well, make sure you do some partying for me.”

  “You know it.”

  A guard came to the cell. “Time to go.”

  Richard fist bumped his friend. “Take care, brother.”

  “You too.”

  When Richard got outside, two men were sitting in an older, faded-blue Ford Taurus. The driver rolled down his window and waved him over. Richard walked up and opened the passenger door. There was a man sitting shotgun. Richard pointed to the rear of the car. “Get your ass in the back.”

  The man was hesitant. “I was here first, man.”

  “I’m not telling you again.”

  “This is fucked up!” He climbed over into the backseat.

  When Richard got in, the driver looked at his arms and chest. “Damn, dude! You’ve bulked up.”

  “You know it, bro. Gotta stay fit if you’re gonna survive in the pen.”

  The driver was Jessie McNamara. He and Richard went way back. They had met in juvie many years ago. He had been in and out of prison most of his life as well, and had just gotten out of prison himself a few months earlier. He looked like a crack addict. His blonde hair was long and dingy, he had sores on his face, and he looked as if he hadn’t bathed in months.

  Richard noticed how skinny he was. “You still doin’ that shit?”

  “You know me. I like to have a taste every once in a while.”

  “Taste my ass.”

  The man in the back laughed. His name was Steve Alderman. He met Richard in prison around ten-years ago. He lit a joint, took a hit, then handed it to Richard. “Nice to have you back, bro.”

  Richard took a long drag. “Fuckin’ A, Bubba!” He looked at Jessie. “Go find a bar.”

  “We probably should head back to Houston.”

  “Fuck that! I need a drink… and some putain.”

  “We don’t have any cash.”

  Richard held his hands out, palms up. “What?”

  “Well, we have a little. About thirty bucks between us. I’m not even sure if we’re gonna have enough gas to get home.”

  Richard shook his head. “Seriously?”

  “Sorry, bro.”

  “Shit never changes.” He picked up a pack of cigarettes from the center console. “You gotta lighter?”

  Jessie handed him one. “What do you want to do?”

  He lit a cigarette, then stuck the pack and lighter in his shirt pocket. “I’ll think of something.”

  Steve leaned forward. “There’s a Walmart back in Palestine. I’ll go in and grab a few things to sell.”

  “I don’t have time to dick around with petty-ass shoplifting. I need some real cash.”

  Jessie looked over. “I have a few rocks we can sell.”

  “Naw. I wanna party later.”

  Steve pulled out a revolver and held it up. “What about holding up a store?”

  Richard pushed his hand down. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t be waving that around.”

  “No one saw it.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to hear you cry when you blow off your dick.”

  “I know how to use a fuckin’ gun!”

  He motioned with his fingers. “I said give it to me.”

  Steve handed it to him, then flopped back in his seat. “This is bullshit!”

  Richard stuck it in his waistband. “Chill out.”

  Jessie started the car. “Are we going to hold up a store?”

  Richard shook his head. “Too rural of an area to pull a stunt like that. We’d get busted before we made it out of town.”

  “Then what do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Richard thought for a moment. “Head to Dallas.”

  “That’s heading in the wrong direction. Houston is south of here.”

  “I know where in the fuck Houston is.”

  “That’s gonna waste gas.”

  “Just do what the fuck I tell ya!”

  “Alright, dude. You don’t have to get all upset.” Jessie pulled out of the parking lot.

  Around two hours later they were in Dallas. Richard pointed. “Turn here.”

  Jessie turned onto a busy street lined with commercial buildings, fast food joints and a large strip center. “Where’re we goin’?”

  “Just drive.”

  “People are everywhere. There’s too many eyes to pull something around here.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” A few blocks down he pointed towards a SUV parked at an ATM. “Check it out.”

  Jessie noticed a female was alone as she was using the machine. “What are you thinking?”

  “She’s got her head up her ass and not paying attention.”

  “Are we going to rob her?”

  Steve was hyper and moving around as he blurted out. “Fuck yeah! The bitch is making a withdrawal for us. Let’s go fuck her up!”

  Richard looked back at him. “Chill the fuck out, dude! And stop jumping around like a fuckin’ monkey.”

  He slouched in his seat. “What the fuck is your problem?”

  “I don’t want a cop to pull us over ‘cause you’re acting like a strung-out retard.”

  “That’s fucked up!”

  “Just sit there and shut the fuck up.”

  When the SUV pulled away, Richard looked at Jessie. “Follow her.”

  They followed the woman several blocks until she pulled into a shopping center and parked next to Dillard’s Department Store. Jessie parked a few spaces away. “Now what?”

  “You fuckers hang here.” Richard got out and stood behind the car. He lit a cigarette, and as he smoked, he looked around to make sure no one was watching. There were a few people around, but they weren’t paying attention. The woman was messing around in her vehicle, and not paying attention either. As soon as she opened her door, he walked over to her. Her eyes opened wide when she noticed him. He could tell she was afraid. Before she could scream, he hit her in the head with the pistol, knocking her silly. He shoved her down across the front seats, then climbed on top of her. He started hitting her with the pistol and didn’t stop until her skull caved in. As she made weird moaning and gurgling sounds, he shoved her body onto the floorboard. The inside of the car was covered in blood, but he knew the charcoal gray interior and tinted
windows camouflaged it.

  He grabbed her purse and started to get out when he heard a whimpering sound. When he looked over the front seat, he noticed a young girl hiding in the floorboard. She was staring back at him with a terrified expression. Richard got out and started to close the door, but paused as he thought about what he was going to do. The girl had seen his face and would be able to describe him.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Richard noticed Steve was standing behind the vehicle. “I told your ass to stay in the car!”

  “Why are you just standing there? Let’s go.”

  He pointed at him. “Get your ass back in the car, now!”

  Steve shook his head as he walked off. Richard looked around to make sure no one was watching, then got back inside the SUV.

  A few minutes later he locked the doors, then walked back to the car. When he got in, Jessie noticed he was covered in blood splatter. “What the fuck, dude!”

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Jessie didn’t hesitate as he took off out of the parking lot.

  Steve leaned forward. “What the fuck did you do?”

  “Got her purse.”

  “Yeah, I know. But why did you get back in?”

  “Had to take care of something.”

  Steve was suspicious, thinking Richard had found something valuable and was hiding it from him. “What the fuck are you up to? You tryin’ to hold out on us?”

  “Fuck you! I don’t have to explain shit to you!”

  Jessie looked over. “Why you covered in blood?”

  “I bashed in her fucking brains.”

  “Why?”

  “She saw my face.”

  “You’re one crazy motherfucker.”

  Steve laughed. “Why didn’t you just shoot the bitch?”

  Richard wiped the blood off his face with a rag, then looked back at him. “Really? Don’t ya think that would have drawn attention?”

  “Oh! I didn’t think of that.”

  “That’s why you’re in the backseat. So, leave the thinking to me.” Richard dug through the purse and found some money. He laughed as he said, “Winner winner chicken dinner.”

  Steve reached out to grab it. “How much is it?”

  “Don’t fucking worry about it.” He stuck the wad in his pocket, then looked at Jessie.

  “Let’s head to Lubbock. I have a friend there that we can hang out with for a while.”

  “I thought we were going to get some pussy.”

  “I was going to get some pussy. But with that bitch laying back there oozing brain matter, we need to get out of Dodge.” Richard reclined his seat, then put his arm behind his head. “I’m gonna take a nap, so you fuckers stay quiet.”

  Fuckin’ Psychic

  Three months later, a small airplane seemed to be having mechanical issues as it approached a grass runway at a private airstrip in McKinney, Texas. The aircraft was rocking side to side and the engine’s RPMs were erratic. As soon as the wheels touched the ground, it bounced a few times, then went airborne again. Finally, the plane touched down and slowly came to a stop.

  A man jumped out of the plane and started yelling, “Dammit, Seth! You told me you knew how to fly.” The man’s name was Bret Harrison. He was wearing a tan suit, had neatly trimmed hair, wore glasses and was carrying a briefcase. He looked like an accountant.

  Seth got out smoking a cigarette as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was wearing blue jeans, a brown leather jacket that was zipped up, western boots and a black cowboy hat. “What the hell are you complaining about? You didn’t die.”

  “Maybe not. But you could have wrecked the plane.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t.” Seth noticed the airstrip was part of a ranch. There was a private golf course, a tennis course, an Olympic-sized pool and a large house sitting on a hill.

  A four-seat Kawasaki Mule pulled up. The driver motioned to them. “Y’all stop dicking around and let’s go. Mr. Townsend is waiting.” The man was big, baldheaded and was wearing a black suit. He looked like a bodyguard. He drove Seth and Bret to the house. When they got inside, Seth noticed how elaborate it was, something you only see in magazines and on TV. It was obvious the owner was wealthy.

  Seth followed Bret through the house. They stopped in a large room filled with artifacts and oddities from around the world. Bret looked at Seth. “Please wait here while I let Mr. Townsend know you’re here.” He walked down a corridor as Seth looked around. The room had large, glass display cases filled with all kinds of antiques. There was a vast collection of weapons from different time periods: ancient, medieval and modern. There were skulls, bones and jars filled with strange specimens, old medical tools and devices, and things that Seth didn’t even recognize. The walls were lined with larger artifacts ranging from Egyptian antiquities to rare carnival displays.

  A few minutes later, Bret and another man came walking up. The man was in his mid-forties and looked like the actor Bradley Cooper. He shook Seth’s hand. “I’m Bill. Glad you came.”

  “Nice room. I feel right at home.”

  “I figured you would appreciate it, considering your background.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He nodded towards Bret. “Of course, you met my assistant.”

  “Yeah. Great fella. Kinda on the squeamish side, though.”

  “I hope you didn’t mind me sending him to pick you up in a plane.”

  “Heck no. I always wanted to fly a Piper Meridian.”

  A look of confusion came over him. “What?”

  “Nice plane, but a little bouncy on the landing.”

  Bill glared at Bret. “Really? He flew my plane?’

  He looked down. “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s a two-million-dollar machine. We’ll have to discuss that later.”

  “Sir, he said he wouldn’t come if I didn’t let him fly it.”

  “Well then, if that’s all it took to get him here, then I suppose no harm, no foul. But if there’s any damage, it’s coming out of your salary.”

  Bret was relieved. “There’s not, sir.”

  Bill looked at Seth. “So, you’re the boogieman of boogiemen? The most notorious vigilante this country has ever seen. And I have you standing here in my gallery when the police can’t even catch you.”

  Seth smiled. “I guess you’re just lucky.” He nodded towards the bald man. “Maybe the tough guy can snap a photo of us so you can hang it in here with all your other shit.”

  “I heard you had a sense of humor.”

  The bald man frowned. “You know what, I need to search you for weapons.”

  Bill put his hand out, motioning for him to stop. “No need for that, Rick.”

  “But, sir. He might have weapons on him.”

  Seth unzipped his jacket, then opened the front, revealing he had a bulletproof vest covered with C4 explosives. He also had a dual-shoulder holster with Springfield XDM 40 caliber pistols, a waistband holster with a Kimber Custom Grand Raptor 1911, a tactical knife in a sheath and several grenades hanging from his belt. He laughed. “I don’t have anything to hide.”

  Rick started freaking out, then pulled out his sidearm and pointed it a Seth. “Keep your hands out so I can see them!”

  Seth looked at him like he was an idiot. “I have enough C4 strapped to me that it will level this house, nimrod.”

  “I’ll blow out your fucking brains before you have a chance to set it off! So, who’s the nimrod?”

  “You are.” Seth raised his arm, showing a watch around his wrist. “This detects my heart beat. As soon as it stops, boom!”

  “You’re fucking crazy!”

  “Yep. And I don’t give a shit either. That’s a hell of a combination you’re dealing with, slick.”

  Bill motioned to Rick. “Put away your sidearm.”

  “But sir, he’s….”

  “I’m not telling you again.”

  Rick holstered his weapon. “I think
you’re making a mistake.”

  “Concern noted.” Bill looked at Seth. “My research indicates you’re always prepared for anything. And I would have been disappointed if you walked in here otherwise. That tells me I’m hiring the right man for the job.” He nodded. “Follow me. We have some business to discuss.”

  Seth looked at Rick. “While the grownups are talkin’, why don’t you go polish your head?” He slapped him in the nuts.

  Rick glared at him. “You better watch your back, asshole!”

  “I’m sure you’ll be doing that for me.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Seth laughed as he walked off. “’Cause Bret said you were a fag.”

  Rick glared at Bret. Bret started to say something, then walked away.

  Seth followed Bill into a large office. It was filled with elaborate and antique furniture, medieval weapons, oddities and other unusual stuff from around the world. Seth looked at the items. “Nice office.”

  Bill sat at a large desk. “Thanks.” He pointed to a chair on the other side of the desk. “Have a seat.”

  Seth sat down, then crossed his legs. “So why am I here?”

  “Straight to the point. I like that.”

  “Well, I’m sure you didn’t bring me here to check out your collection.”

  “Of course, not.” He tossed him a picture. “That was my wife Karen and my seven-year-old daughter Emily.”

  Seth looked at it for a moment, noticing it was a family photo. “They must have been murdered.” He looked up. “So, who do you want me to fuck up?”

  Bill looked surprised. “How do you know they were murdered?”

  “You said, was, when referring to them.”

  “How do you know she didn’t leave me and took Emily with her, and I want you to kill her so I can get Emily back?”

  “If you did your research on me like you said you did, then you know I don’t harm innocent people. And you wouldn’t have brought me here unless you want vengeance, meaning their lives were taken by the hands of another.”

 

‹ Prev