Prosper Snow Series

by Shaun Jeffrey

  Prosper’s stomach curdled as rats ran around the corpses, nibbling on the rotting flesh and he turned away.

  The way the bodies had been butchered was beyond belief. How could anyone have such little respect for their fellow man? And to think Natasha almost joined them. Sickened by the thought, he coughed, almost throwing up what little food he had in his stomach.

  Something niggled at the back of his mind. Something that didn’t add up.

  He forced himself to turn and look back at the bodies, his eyes drawn to the one made to look like Jerel.

  Why would the killer perform two killings that looked the same? And why wouldn’t he have boasted about the other victim, like he did with all the others?

  Sweat rolled down the sides of Prosper’s nose. He licked his lips; thought back to Dr. Angela Lancet’s assessment of the killer: The cause of antisocial personality disorder is unknown, but genetic factors and child abuse are believed to contribute to its development. People with an antisocial or alcoholic parent are at increased risk … he’ll be geographically or occupationally mobile … He’ll have an eye for detail, meticulously planning in an almost military fashion … But as the victims disappeared at different times of day, it would suggest that the offender’s employment varies time wise, such as a shift worker or part time worker who has plenty of spare time … He’ll be socially adequate, have friends, perhaps a partner, even a spouse and children … And he’ll likely be described as the last person anyone would suspect if he was convicted.

  If that was true, Wolfe didn’t fit the profile, at least not exactly.

  But crazy as it seemed, he knew one person who did.

  Then he recalled something Jill said at the start of the investigation: All we have is a photograph. Who’s to say it’s real?

  Prosper raised the gun and pointed it at Jerel’s corpse.

  “Okay Jerel, the game’s up.”

  “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” Jill asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “You were right. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Right? Right about what?”

  “That it’s easy to manipulate a photo. To make people believe something that’s not real.”

  “It’s about time you worked it out,” Jerel said. His eyes snapped open like Frankenstein’s monster, and he stepped down from the cross upon which he was supposedly nailed, very much alive and well.

  CHAPTER 56

  Jerel ripped the entrails from his torso and dropped them to the floor. Then he tore the fake severed tongue from his throat and threw it aside.

  “What’s going on?” Wolfe shouted up from the hole.

  Tongue glued to the roof of his mouth, throat dry, Prosper couldn’t reply. He stared wide eyed at Jerel, goose bumps erupting along his arms.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Jerel asked as he removed the crown of nails. He laughed. “I thought you’d have worked it out long before now, but you got there eventually.”

  “Why? I don’t understand why you’d do it.”

  “What’s going on?” Jill gasped.

  “Haven’t you worked it out yet, Prosper?” Jerel asked.

  “Worked what out?” He shook his head, his mind a blank.

  “I know. I fucking know what you did,” he yelled, pointing an accusatory finger.

  Prosper frowned. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I know you slept with my whore of a wife.”

  Prosper felt the little colour he had left drain from his face. “Is that what this is about?” He gaped in disbelief. “Look I’m sorry. It was an accident. We didn’t mean for it to happen. We were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “An accident. A fucking accident. You slept with my wife, of course it meant something.”

  “It was only once. Jesus, Jerel, listen to me. We didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “I trusted you, Prosper. You were my fucking friend.”

  Prosper thought back to his meeting with Jerel’s wife when he went to tell her that Jerel was supposedly dead.

  Did he tell you ... you know? At the time, he though Christine was talking about the rape, but now he realised that’s not what she was talking about at all. Then he remembered her bruises and the black eye.

  “How did you find out?” Prosper asked.

  “It’s ironic really. When I left the army, we started trying for another baby, but it just wasn’t happening. I thought it might have been something to do with what I’d been through, you know, fighting … I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. Combat stress reaction is what they called it – you believe that shit. Anyway, I thought it might be the drugs they gave me, so I stopped taking them and went to the hospital for a sperm test, and guess what, it turns out I’m fucking sterile. Always have been.”

  Prosper’s mind whirled. This was all too crazy. Jerel always was a possessive son of a bitch, which was why he had tried to forget all about the one night stand with Christine, hoping to God Jerel never found out. Then he remembered something else. “Katie,” he said. “I don’t understand.”

  “Neither did I. Then it all made sense. She’s not my kid. Couldn’t be. That’s when I knew Christine was a whore. It didn’t take much to get it out of her. She always was weak willed, the bitch. I couldn’t believe it when she said it was you. You, Prosper. You’re the father of my kid. I always wondered why Katie was a chubby thing, as she certainly didn’t get it from me.”

  Prosper staggered back. “No, it’s not possible. It was just the one time.”

  “That’s all it takes when you’re not firing blanks. Right place, right time, hey Prosper. Well, you’ve ruined my life. You’ve taken everything I loved and destroyed it. Do you know what that feels like?” he screamed, the tendons in his neck stretched taut.

  Prosper stared at Jerel with his mouth open, unable to believe what he was hearing.

  “Talk to me,” Jill said. “What’s he on about?”

  “Your wife … the rape …” Prosper said.

  Jerel grimaced. “There was no rape, unless you count what you did to her. I just needed something to motivate all of you, to set you up, and like idiots, you fell for it.”

  “Rape? Murder?” Jill said. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Prosper ignored her. “Jesus, Jerel, for Gods sake, why? Ty … Paris. They were your friends.”

  “Friends! Friends! They knew. They fucking knew what you’d done, you and that whore of a wife of mine. They knew, and none of them told me.”

  “But why? Why all … this?” He pointed at the corpses.

  “Because I’m going to destroy your life like you’ve destroyed mine, that’s why. You’ve taken my family away from me. Destroyed what I had. So I’m going to take yours away from you. They’re going to hate you when you’re accused of the crimes. They’re going to wish you’d never been born as much as I do. They’re going to call you a monster. Have you been reading the papers? Well, they’re talking about you, not me. You brought this on yourself. This is all your fault. These people died because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”

  “How can Natasha believe I’m the killer, you abducted her, you idiot.”

  “It’s not Natasha that I want to hate you. I’ve got plans for her. It’s your kid. That boy’s going to grow up thinking his dad’s a monster.”

  “You won’t get away with this.” Prosper tightened his finger on the trigger.

  “But I already have. I’m dead, remember.”

  The significance of the other corpse made sense now. Jerel was going to use it as a decoy, then he was going to disappear. Of course his military training had helped him kill people. He was trained to kill. Had seen active service, so God knows how many people he had already slaughtered.

  Prosper braced himself for the recoil, and then pulled the trigger, shocked to hear the empty click of the action.

  He tried again, and again, but nothing happened.

  Jerel rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.
“I take it you didn’t check how many bullets you had left after firing willy-nilly.” His lips curled up in a smile. “Having your partner here is even better than I planned though. People will assume she tracked you down somehow, but then you killed her too before taking your own life.”

  “You’ll never get away with it,” Prosper said. “People will never believe it.”

  “Of course they’ll believe it. Look at the evidence. And when I set fire to the bodies, there won’t be much left, and as I knocked his teeth out so they can’t check dental records, they’ll assume that homeless vagrant’s me.”

  With no time to lose, Prosper threw the gun at Jerel and charged in its wake, hoping to tackle him before he realised what was happening.

  Jerel sidestepped the projectile and delivered a sidekick that connected with Prosper’s knee, making him scream and crumple up in agony. He grabbed the afflicted area and rolled on the ground, trying to quell the pain that shot from the point of impact. Eyes closed, teeth gritted, lips curled back, he sucked in air.

  “Did you really think that would work?” Jerel asked. “I’m a one man fucking army.”

  “The police are on their way, so just take it easy,” Jill said.

  “Let ‘em come. That’s what I want.”

  Prosper opened his eyes to see Jerel withdraw a knife from behind his back, then leap over him, heading for Jill.

  Knowing she wouldn’t stand a chance, Prosper ignored the pain and staggered to his feet, limping as his knee threatened to give out, making him cringe at the thought of what Natasha had been going through all this time. Across the room, he saw Jill turn and flee, Jerel in hot pursuit.

  “Leave her alone,” Prosper shouted, but Jerel caught Jill before she reached the door, grabbed her around the neck and repeatedly rammed the knife into her back like something possessed. Jill screamed.

  Blood sprayed out each time he withdrew the blade, leaving a rainbow of gore in its wake.

  Prosper screamed, disbelief crossing his face.

  Jill went limp, blood trickling from her mouth, and she crumpled to the ground as Jerel released her. Then he turned towards Prosper, chest coated with gore, grinning maniacally.

  His stomach churning, Prosper staggered back, shaking his head. “You’re crazy,” he said, unable to believe the monster Jerel had become. He retreated through the bodies, a putrid mass of death and decay, the stench from which assailed his nostrils. He reached back and touched a corpse, recoiling at the congealed, tapioca feel of the cold flesh.

  Repulsed, he knocked the body aside, continuing back until he reached the table. His fingers scratched across the surface, found the knife taken from his own house, and wrapped around the handle.

  He wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Jerel jogged towards the front door and pulled it closed. “This is just like old times. The gang, back together again,” he said. “It’s funny, but I doubt even Ty would dream this one up.” He slipped the knife into a sheath around his waist, then reached down and lifted two green jerry cans from beside the entrance.

  “Just stop and think about what you’re doing,” Prosper said. “Think about your wife, Christine, and what about Katie? How do you think they would feel if they knew what you’d done?”

  “You think I fucking care about Christine and me, it’s over. The bitch is just lucky I didn’t kill her too. And as for Katie …” He hesitated, lips sucked in. “I can’t love a kid that’s not mine. Do you know what I see every time I look at her? You. I see you. No, it seems I’m designed for taking life, not making it.”

  Jerel walked forwards, dropped one of the cans, opened the other and started sloshing liquid over the corpses

  Prosper recognised the smell of petrol and he froze. His knee still throbbed, but movement was returning to it. He knew he probably couldn’t tackle Jerel – the army had taught him how to fight and kill, and they’d taught him well by all accounts – but if he could just make it outside and reach the Jeep, then perhaps he could make his escape.

  Movement caught his eye and he glanced towards the hole in the ground to see Wolfe pop his head out like a nervous rabbit. He felt slightly guilty for having suspected Wolfe of the crimes, and even more guilty that he’d actually shot at him.

  Wolfe pointed towards Prosper, then at the door. Then he nodded and hauled himself out of the ground, his sinewy body as agile as a panthers as he crept towards Jerel who continued to douse the bodies in fuel.

  As he drew close, Wolfe crouched to pick up a long metal bar that made a faint ringing sound as it scraped across the ground.

  Jerel spun around. “Wolfe, buddy, how you doin’? I thought I was going to have to come down and drag your sorry ass out of that hole.”

  Wolfe lifted the bar and grabbed it with both hands, holding it like a fighting staff.

  “Well you’ve saved me a job.” Jerel grinned, muscles in his arms flexing as he threw the can of petrol towards Wolfe, the remaining liquid spewing out like Catherine wheel sparks as the can spun through the air.

  Wolfe struck the can with the bar, sending it clattering aside. Jerel withdrew his knife, holding it blade down, and sprang forwards, a blur of power and symmetry.

  “Run,” Wolfe shouted, forcing Prosper into action.

  But instead of heading towards the door, Prosper limped towards Jerel.

  Wolfe swept the bar around as Jerel approached, an attack that Jerel easily avoided.

  Letting the bar slide through his hands, Wolfe held it by the end and started swinging it like a sword. Jerel ducked and weaved, and when the bar did strike him, he brushed it off as though he hadn’t felt it.

  Prosper increased his pace to help his friend, favouring his good leg as he moved.

  Wolfe swung again, and Jerel ducked underneath and performed what resembled an uppercut punch, but with an angled blade clamped in his fist. The blade sliced through Wolfe’s shirt with almost surgical precision. Wolfe’s expression turned from determined to pained and he staggered back, lips pinched tight.

  Wolfe put his hand to his stomach, and blood seeped through his fingers. Jerel approached him like a hunter with its prey, but before he could strike, Wolfe swept the bar at Jerel’s legs, catching him off guard and toppling him over.

  Wolfe looked across at Prosper and screamed, “Run.”

  Although he felt guilty leaving Wolfe, Prosper knew he wouldn’t reach them in time, so he limped towards the door. “You won’t frame me that easily,” he shouted, hoping that once Jerel saw him escaping, he would give chase, allowing Wolfe to get away too.

  When he reached the door, Prosper pushed it open, and burst outside.

  He heard shouts behind him, and ran across the driveway, fuelled by fear. In the trees, the smell of fresh pine needles replaced that of death. The uneven ground felt springy, and he slowed marginally to avoid tripping. Moonlight flickered through the canopy above. Further ahead, faint beams of light illuminated the forest floor.

  Wolfe had parked the Jeep out of sight of the building, but where was it? Within the canopy of trees, and wrapped in darkness, everything looked the same. He knew he should try to follow the road, but that would make it too easy for Jerel to pursue him and with his knee slowing him, Prosper needed to use anything he could to his advantage.

  Startled birds took flight overhead, the beat of their wings like macabre applause. The trees crowded in, a living prison.

  As he ran in what he hoped was the right direction, branches whipped his face, but Prosper ignored them. Physical pain was nothing compared to his mental anguish. He prayed that Wolfe had managed to escape behind him.

  After a few minutes, he slowed to gauge his position, and heard a branch snap. Muffled by the trees, the sound could have come from anywhere. Prosper whirled, alert, his eyes wide and his ears attuned to the nuances of the forest. Something crashed through the undergrowth to his left.

  Prosper let out a startled gasp, his heart a pneumatic pump running in overdrive.

  Ferns wa
ved and leaves rustled as something bounded towards him. He saw two sharp antlers, a flash of brown, two sparkling eyes. He tried to make sense of what he saw: a stag. As startled as Prosper, the creature froze for a moment, snorted loudly, then bounded away, disappearing back into the undergrowth.

  Prosper inhaled, tried to slow his frenetic heartbeat. All around him, the forest had fallen quiet, as if in anticipation.

  Senses stretched to breaking point, his terror became a palpable sensation. Jerel was out there somewhere, closing in, evil incarnate. He could feel it.

  He continued through the trees, trying to move quietly when he heard a chuckle from the darkness. Jerel was toying with him. A twig snapped like dry bone. Leaves rustled as something brushed through them. Prosper tried to swallow, but he couldn’t get his throat to work. He tightened his grip on the knife. A breeze caressed his face as if someone breathed against his cheek.

  He spotted a clearing up ahead and headed towards it, hoping to force his pursuer into the open so he might face him on equal terms.

  Cold moonlight filled the clearing, the ground covered with a layer of dry leaves and pine needles that crunched underfoot. Prosper spun around, surveying the forest for signs of movement. It seemed like a large cathedral, the trees forming a natural nave.

  “Come on you bastard,” Prosper whispered, gritting his teeth.

  In the trees, nothing moved. An owl hooted once then fell silent.

  Prosper licked his lips. His sweaty palms ruined his grip on the knife. What was he waiting for?

  Time ticked by. Seconds rolled into minutes. Sweat trickled down Prosper’s forehead and into his eye, stinging. He blinked, blurring his sight and making the trees look alien and unnatural.

  Well, if Jerel wasn’t going to come out …

  Prosper took out his lighter, crouched down and set the dry tinder alight. Pine needles greedily accepted the flame, crackling and spitting. The fire grew bigger. Wafted by the breeze, it raced across the clearing. White smoke drifted into the sky and Prosper stepped back.