by Janet Durbin
Suddenly, he saw her. She stood under a tree, arms crossed in front of her. She was staring at the sky. White fluffy clouds floated gently past. They were turning pink with the coming sunset. Her long brown hair waved with the slight breeze. He rushed to her side.
"Nature, what do you think you're doing running off like that."
She continued to watch the clouds. “I didn't run. I walked."
"You know what I mean."
"Yes, I do."
Her voice was so soft. He had a hard time hearing it above the drone of the nearby traffic. He moved in front of her. Dark circles surrounded her eyes. She looked exhausted.
"Come back inside. You need to rest."
"Rest..."
He steered her toward the camper. Before they could reach it, a van pulled into the area. It had one of those camera things mounted on its roof. Westerly groaned. The press had found out about them. Now there would be no peace. Now there would only be hassles.
A tall good-looking man jumped out. He had a piece of paper in one hand, a mike in the other. He ran over, shouting questions before he reached them. A man carrying a camera was on his heels.
"Mrs. Kranderson! Mrs. Kranderson! Can I ask you some questions?"
Westerly urged her to move faster.
The reporter blocked the way. “What do you know about the recent kidnappings in our area?"
Nature flung her arms up to ward off the mike shoved in her face. Westerly stepped between the woman and the reporter. The camera operator swung his camera back and forth. Total pandemonium broke out.
"Is it true you can sense the killer through objects belonging to the girls? Are they still alive?” The reporter shot out questions in rapid-fire fashion.
"Leave her alone! Get outta here!"
Westerly forced the man out of the way. He wrapped an arm protectively around Nature and dragged her into the camper, slamming the door in the reporters and camera operator's faces. The reporter wasn't giving up so easily. He banged on the door, shouting more questions. Nature covered her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as they would go. She spun around to face the door.
"Go away! Go away!"
Westerly hugged her against his body to quiet her down. The last thing they needed to do was feed into the man outside. He whispered nonsense words. He brushed her hair back. He guided her to the couch and forced her to sit. When she stayed there, he went back to the doorway and peeked out the curtain covering the window.
The reporter stood with his back to the camper. He was speaking into the mike. The camera pointed toward the vehicle then back at the man. When they were finished, they returned to their van. They stayed. They did not leave as he hoped they would. If he wanted to move the camper, he had to face them again. That wasn't going to be pretty. He might go to jail for kicking the shit out of a reporter. That would not be good. He had to protect Nature.
* * * *
The man decided not to go to the cabin. He decided to go hunting instead. The girl was still with him, something he usually never did. He had kept her so that when the pent up pressure inside became too much, he could release it on her. She had ceased to be a person. She was now only a means to an end. He had used her in unimaginable ways. She no longer responded, even when he knew she was in pain.
He drove to a bar and parked in the rear. He wanted something to drink, something other than water or soda.. It had been a long time since he wanted alcohol. Tonight, it just seemed right. He needed to wash away the sadness that engulfed him.
Walking into the gloomy interior, he went to the farthest corner of the bar. He pulled out a stool and sat. The bartender came over, took his order and left. He returned shortly with the drink. The man sipped at the bourbon. It burned his throat all the way down. It felt good. He glanced up at the television. The local news was on. The mouths of the commentators were moving but nothing came out. The volume was too low.
He saw pictures of farm equipment, local fairs, and the news on the soldiers in Iraq. He didn't envy their lifestyle. They had no say as to what happened to them. Other local news flashed across the screen. He, for the most part, ignored it.
The bourbon was finished and he was getting up when a picture appeared on the television. It was a picture of the girl in the van. The difference was in this picture she was smiling, like in a school photo. He froze. He saw the girls name across the bottom. He saw the parents hugging each other He saw a police officer talking into a mike before his face.
The picture changed. It focused on a camper. He saw a woman being hustled past the reporter. He was mesmerized. She was beautiful. Her brown hair flowed like silk, her figure was average, even a tiny bit on the chunky side, but that wasn't what mattered. It was her eyes that had him glued. He only saw them for a second, but it was enough. He now understood why he could not find The One. He was looking for someone too young. Excitement filled him. He felt himself rise to the occasion. He had to leave.. He had to get on the road. He stayed long enough to find out where she was before heading out the door and around the building.
Patricia heard the man get in. She no longer cared. She knew what came next. She heard the curtains part, then slide shut.. She saw the man come toward her, felt his hands all over her body. In a short amount of time, she had felt those hands a lot.. She hated his touch. She hated the feel of the rods, his and the metal one, as they were shoved into any opening in her body. She hated herself. Since she did not believe she was going to survive this journey, she decided it was time to fade into her imaginary world, a world where she was free to run, where her parents waited for her with open arms, where Randy knelt and proposed to her.
She never knew when he finished and got off.. She had no idea when the van started rolling down the road. She was in her world, a wonderful world. A world where it wasn't a nightmare to have sex, where she no longer hurt. She knew it was time, time to remain. A faint smile came to her lips, lips that were no longer taped. It never faded, even when the man stopped to use her in ways that no one should ever have to endure during the long drive back.
After getting a quickie from the girl, he started toward Florida.. He backtracked on highway 75 until he was outside Atlanta. That was where the police reminded him about his choice of vehicles. The man watched as one trailed him. He remained calm. The lights were off. The officer was just following. He saw a sign for a mall and exited. The cop also exited. He frowned. He went several miles down the road and entered the parking area. The cop followed. He parked in a spot close to the building. The cop drove past. He glanced out the window as the brake lights came on and faded with release. While other cars made their way through the lot, blocking the officer's view, the man left the van and moved toward the mall entrance.
He watched as the police car disappeared around the building. He hesitated, not sure what he should do. Should he return to the van or continue the direction he was going? When the police car reappeared, his decision was finalized.. He made it into the store without incident. He spun around at the sound of a car traveling at a high rate of speed. The tires squealed when the driver slammed on the brakes, causing the car to turn slightly. The officer flung his door open and crouched behind it, gun extended beyond the safety of the vehicle, pointed at the van..
People in the store congregated toward the windows. Their expressions varied. Some were fascinated by the actions taking place while others snickered and poked fun at the police. The man blended in with them, showing the same fascinated appearance. He stayed behind a group of older women. Their constant chattering grated on his nerves. To alleviate the irritation, he pictured a group of geese in a children's cartoon honking back and forth.. Even though he laughed inside, he kept the proper look on his face. He did not smile.
Another police car screamed into the area, siren blaring, lights shining. It was followed by another and another and another. When the screeching stopped, the man would have bet money that over half the police department surrounded the van. Someone by the door opened it
a little bit. A voice echoed into the store.
"Driver, get out of the vehicle.” Hesitation. “Driver ... get out of the vehicle!"
That statement told the man that the cop who went around the building had missed his departure from the van. He was thankful for his good luck. He hoped it continued.
The crowd watched as one of the cops moved from around his car. He hunched over and ran up to the van. Slowly, with both hands holding his weapon, he inched along the side. Once he reached the drivers window, the cop threw the door open and pointed his weapon inside. He lowered it when no one sat there..
Another officer ran to the van. He stayed near the back, weapon held ready.. The first cop joined him. After a brief exchange of nods, one grabbed the handle and threw the door open while the other pointed his gun toward the interior. Both officers paled. They straightened. Their mouths hung open.
The girl before them was naked. Her long brown hair was a tangled mess. Her brown eyes stared at them; they could tell she did not see them. A slight smile creased her lips. She was lost, lost in a world of her own making.
One of the cops recovered from his shock, put away his gun, and crawled in. Her limbs swayed with the motion of the van. Ropes attached to the roof wrapped around the wrists and ankles. The skin was raw and bleeding. Bruises covered her everywhere. She never responded.
"Call for an ambulance,” the officer said as he unfastened the ropes.
The other officer stared.
"Gerald! Call for an ambulance NOW!"
The shout caused the frozen officer to come alive. He grabbed the radio mike attached to his shirt and spoke into it. A response from the dispatcher indicated the requested ambulance was on the way. He called out for a blanket. One of the many officers popped the trunk of her car. She brought one over. She gasped at the sight of the girl, but recovered quickly. Getting in, she covered the battered body before moving to her head. She cradled it in her lap, whispering nothing words while smoothing the tangled hair away from her young face.. The brown eyes remained empty, unresponsive.
The man watched. He regretted the loss of the girl. He should have killed her after he learned she wasn't The One. Now he had to hope she was not able to give the police a description. On the last stop, she never responded to his pleasures, to his ever-hungry needs. She only smiled. Maybe she was too far gone to far to come back. That would be a blessing. He departed from the window and entered the main part of the mall.
The rest of the mall was oblivious as to what was transpiring outside. They talked, laughed, and shopped like usual. They ignored the man walking among them. An odor wafted in the air. He sniffed deep. Following the scent, he walked to a food stand where pretzels and such were sold. He bought one, along with a small bottled water. He sat on one of the benches located a short distance from the stand. While munching on the pretzel, he watched the crowd.
He was thinking of how to get another vehicle for the trip south when the sound of laughter echoed from behind him. It was coming his way. He did not turn around. A woman and her daughter strolled past, bags from various stores hung from their arms. He felt his crotch begin to swell. He crossed his legs and bit into the salty food, savoring the taste. They moved away. He chewed, swallowed, and rose to his feet. He threw the rest of the pretzel in the trash bin. He opened the water bottle and drank until his thirst felt quenched. It found the trash bin also. Strolling at a casual pace, he watched their asses swing with each step, teasing him as he followed. He smiled.
The females left the mall on the opposite side from the police action. They were talking about what they had bought, unaware of the man behind them. The mother pulled out her keys from her purse. She walked to the trunk and inserted one into the lock. The daughter was too young to drive yet. She looked to be about fifteen. The man saw his chance. No one was near. When the mother was bent over the open trunk, placing the bags inside, he ran up behind her and shoved her hard. Arms went in all directions. The woman tried to catch herself, but the man prevented it. She fell in. He slammed the trunk shut.
The daughter gawked at the man. She was too startled to cry out. Before she could recover, he covered her mouth.. The man pulled her close and removed the keys from the trunk. Dragging her to the driver's door, he unlocked it. He threw her in. He sat down beside her, hugging her against his body. It was an older model with a full seat. Something he missed in the newer cars.
Pounding echoed throughout the interior of the car. Muffled shouting followed it. The mother called out the girl's name repeatedly. The man turned over the engine. It purred to life, drowning out the offensive noise. Fortunately, it was an automatic. It allowed him to keep an arm over the girls shoulder. He put it in gear and drove out the nearest exit. Within minutes, he was back on the highway, making his way toward Florida and the woman he felt was The One.
Chapter Ten
The man saw the sign for Daytona. It indicated the city was still many miles ahead. He sighed. He almost regretted killing the girl. Her breasts were too small and she had been too young for him. Her body was in the trunk along with the mother.
He still had the mother. He kept her because she was older, like the one on the television. When he thought of the woman, he felt his penis harden. He rubbed his pants, exciting himself further. He exited the highway. At the stop sign, he turned right onto a two-lane road. He headed north. If the woman were gone from where the TV said she was last, he would find her. She was too important.
A dirt road was on the left. The man saw it coming and slowed. He turned onto it. It led into an overgrown area near a lake. He smiled. He liked lakes. They reflected the sunlight the way a crystal glass did when hit by the bright light.. The rainbow colors were a joy to watch. He parked the car near a clump a cattails. He sat on the hood for several minutes, feeling the warmth from the metal heat up his bottom. He enjoyed the twinkling on the water. With a content sigh, he got off and started toward the trunk.
Mrs. Murray, Nellie, felt the car stop. She held her dead daughter close. She was in shock. One minute they were laughing and shopping, the next, Maria was gone. She had cried for a long time, unable to believe what was happening.
The trunk opened. She raised a hand to block the bright light shining in her eyes. She felt Maria shift. She tried to grab her daughter; a hand slapped her. She whimpered. Her daughter disappeared. The trunk slammed shut again. Darkness consumed her. She hit the trunk. She screamed for Maria. She cried out as the pain of loss wracked through her again..
The man removed the girl from the trunk. He had no need for a dead body. He was going to leave her in the lake. As he picked her up, he caught a flash of her vagina. It, in turn, caused him to bulge. Even in death, he had standards. She was still too young for him.
He placed the girl on the ground, stepped back so he could view the forbidden pleasure better, and unzipped his pants. The penis leaped out. He wrapped his fingers around it and pumped and pumped until the pent up need exploded from the tip.
Many hours later, he was back on the road. The mother remained in the trunk. The daughter was not with her. He had left her floating in the lake, a morsel for the alligators located there. Since he was getting close to his destination, he tied ropes around the woman's extremities and secured them to the frame. He did not want her to banging against the metal, thus alerting others of her presence. A gag covered her mouth. He had future plans for her.
Thinking about the mother passed the time while he drove the rest of the way toward the woman of his dreams. He grew more certain with the passing of time that she was the one to complete him, the one he would spend hours upon hours sharing his many ways of pleasure with.
* * * *
Nature was bored. They remained in the camper to avoid the obnoxious reporter outside. She had slept for almost twelve hours. It was much needed rest. She felt like a human again. She stood by the little stove. A frying pan with two hamburgers in it sat on top. They sizzled and popped as they cooked. It was early afternoon.
&nbs
p; "That smells good."
"It's my own special recipe."
"A special recipe for hamburgers ... what will they think up next?” Web shook his head. He smiled to show he was teasing.
Nature grabbed a hand towel. She spun it tight in her hands and popped it at the man standing near the window. It hit his butt. He yelped with pain. She tossed the towel down and picked up the spatula again. She assumed an innocent look.
"What was that for?"
"Just because."
Web rubbed the spot where the towel hit. He returned his attention to the window. The van remained parked across the way. It had not moved since its arrival. He frowned. “I thought they'd get bored by now and leave. I guess you're big news."
The mention of the reporter caused Nature to sigh. She was frustrated at being cooped up. Any time she tried to go out, a man jumped out of the van and started her way, mike in hand. She ducked back inside to avoid him. That was a day and a half ago. She was sick of it.
"Maybe we should make a dash for it. Get to the cab and head for the interstate. I want to go home.” She flipped one of the burgers. “The police obviously don't need us. They haven't returned."
"Officer Stack asked us to wait."
Nature slammed the spatula onto the counter. She spun around to face Web. “I don't care! I'm tired of this place! I want to go home!"
Before Web could say anything, she was out the door heading toward the van. The reporter got out. He started toward her. He stopped and waited when he saw she was coming his way. He held the mike ready. The camera operator was setting the camera on his shoulder. She reached them as Westerly was getting out of the camper.
"Mrs. Kranderson, what do you know..."
Suddenly, the reporter was spinning toward the ground, his sentence incomplete. The mike flew into the air. It landed with a thud. The camera operator gawked.
Nature stood over the downed man, her fist held ready to deliver another punch. She was furious. “Why can't you just leave me alone? Go make someone else's life a living hell!"