“How the hell are you doing this?” Preston yelled suddenly, stopping in front of Had and jabbing his index finger at Had’s pecs. “There has to be something… something that frightens you.”
Had thought about it. There was plenty he was frightened of, but every single one of those things had one thing in common.
Mama.
Without her, the whole thing just fell apart. There wasn’t anything a weasely gas station attendant could muster that would even come close to the kind of hell that Mama could rain down when she got her dander up.
And it wasn’t like she was abusive. She was just creative. There was this thing that she called “natural consequences” that were anything but natural. Only Mama could make standing outside naked on the curb while cars passed by and people pointed a natural consequence. Once for making out with his girlfriend in the backseat of the family car, she’d made him hold up a sign that read, “I like to get nekkid in public places.” She’d insisted on the spelling of “nekkid”.
The punishment itself wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was when Mama got all quiet and disappointed. That was the danger point. He could always tell when it was really bad. The yelling stopped.
“I do understand, you know,” Had told him.
Preston turned to face him. “What are you talking about?” There was an odd tone to his voice. Hopeful? Disbelieving? Had couldn’t tell.
“The reason you can’t scare me is because of my mother.”
The killer’s face went soft, almost blank. “She… she hurt you?”
“Sometimes,” Had admitted. “We’re the same in that way. But the thing is… we’re still really different.”
“No, we’re not,” Preston answered back, that same tone coloring his voice even more. “You’re just like me. Our parents hurt us. They taught us fear.”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” Had continued, knowing what this would do to his friend, but knowing he had to do it anyway. “I know my mother loves me. Can you say the same about your dad?”
Preston’s face twisted up, and he turned away from Had as his shoulders shook. He was crying, his body racked with silent sobs.
“I’m so sorry, Preston.”
And then, Had’s friend got quiet. He slowly straightened up his back, rolling his shoulders as if to get rid of tension there. When he faced Had once more, he was composed, his face hard.
It was clear that Preston was very angry.
“Well, it’s not the same, but maybe I just need to be more direct here,” Preston said, wrinkling his nose in apparent disdain. “Take off a couple of fingers and then maybe we can change your views on humanity… And parenting.”
Well, now things had taken a turn for the worse. Had was pretty sure that he could deal with the pain… he’d had plenty of accidents as a kid, and even as a younger man. But losing fingers and limbs meant no more work with the BAU. No more police work. No more work at all, at least not for the kinds of things that Had was good at.
He had no desire to lose any appendages.
This was a tight spot. If he faked fear of something, he could be hastening his own death. But if he didn’t, he would start losing little bits of himself. Before he was killed. Which made it that much more uncomfortable.
“Preston, I know you’re hurting, man. But you don’t have to do this.” Had pleaded, hoping against hope to get through to him.
For a moment, Had thought that Preston would just ignore him. But then he began speaking in an undertone, almost too quiet to hear at first.
“People need to know how fear feels. They think they do, but they don’t. I look around at the flat faces around me, and they don’t know terror.” As Preston spoke, his voice got louder and louder. As he finished, it was almost a scream. “I’m here to teach them.”
He looked into Had’s eyes. His voice dropped back down to a whisper.
“I’m here to teach you.”
Okay, that was a little scary. Maybe not Mama level, but he was getting there.
The tension between them extended into what felt like an eternal moment, when all of the sudden there was an explosion that sounded from above. Preston’s eyes darted up toward the ceiling as dust filtered down through the beam of his penlight that he pointed up above his head.
Preston snatched up a roll of duct tape, ripped off a length and slapped it across Had’s mouth. “Looks like we have some company. You sit tight. I’ve got a couple of your friends to chop up.”
Thrashing about in his chair and straining against his bonds, Had screamed at the top of his lungs, but the sound died a couple of feet out. There was nothing he could do to warn his friends as the killer stalked off to confront them. It may or may not have been on purpose, but Preston had finally succeeded.
Had was now terrified.
CHAPTER 24
The farming equipment that was housed all around Sariah and the two local cops loomed over them and lurked, ready to pounce on them in equal measures. Their flashlights only lit sections of the giant pieces of machinery, giving them glimpses of chipped paint, metal and chrome that accentuated the oppressive atmosphere. It felt as if the machinery was there to trap them within the building, or possibly to tear them to shreds when they least expected it.
The building smelt of oil, diesel fuel and mulch. It was a combination that would have caused the dark to take on an almost homey personality, except that it was juxtaposed with the task they had ahead of them.
Sariah peered through the darkness, shining her flashlight ahead of her. There was a door on the far wall that looked promising. It might be the entrance to the staircases leading up and down. The chance that Preston was holed up underground seemed the most logical assumption, but she was doubting every single one of her decisions. Even still, as they neared the doorway, Sariah felt her pace increasing.
And then her cell rang.
Another mistake. She should have turned the phone off, except that she had assumed there wasn’t enough reception to receive a call. She pulled out the phone.
It was Ms. Hadderly again.
She waved the two cops ahead of her as she answered. If it had been anyone other than Had’s mom, there’s no way she would have bothered doing so in the midst of a search like this. But she after everything that she’d done to cause this situation in the first place, she couldn’t avoid it.
“Did you hang up on me before, Ms. Fancy-Pants FBI Agent?”
“No, Ms. Hadderly,” Sariah answered, trying to keep her emotions in check. “We just don’t have any reception out here.”
“Right,” the woman answered with a bite in her tone. “That’s what my son says when he doesn’t want to talk to me. And if you can’t get any reception, then why are you talkin’ to me right now?”
“Ms. Hadderly, I didn’t want you to worry even more. We’re right in the middle of a search to find your son’s captor.”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me, you… I’m getting… on my…” And once more, the call cut out. She fought down the tears that wanted to resurface, hardening her resolve. If she couldn’t do it for herself, maybe she could do it for a scared mother.
She tucked the phone back into her pants pocket, and started to call out to the officers ahead of her, when she noticed a discoloration on the floor where Officers Chance and Jensen were walking. What was that?
And then the cops weren’t there, and in their place was a gaping hole in the ground. She rushed to the edge, kneeling at the lip and shining her light down into the pit. When she saw what was down there, she wished she hadn’t.
Broken blades, shards of unidentifiable metal and rebar pointed up toward her. The two officers were sprawled amongst the protruding spikes, looking almost like they were resting. One of the pieces of rebar had thrust through Officer Chance’s neck, its bloody end pointing up at Sariah like an accusation.
She felt the contents of her stomach surging up, seeking to follow the officers down to the bottom of the pit. After a deep breath an
d a moment of focus, the nausea subsided, and Sariah realized that if it hadn’t been for the call, she would be down there with a spike through the back of her head like Jensen. At this very moment, she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
She felt a whiff of air above her and flattened herself on the ground as a huge blade swung down, slicing through the air. Its arc passed though where her head would have been if she’d been standing at the edge of the pit. The fact that she had decided to kneel had saved her life. She’d ruminate on the symbolism in that at another time.
Right now, she had a serial killer to attend to.
* * *
Joshua pulled a corner of his shirt up and placed it over his mouth, doing what he could to filter out the smoke. There was nothing he could do for the heat.
An inferno raged around him as the dry alfalfa hay around him acted as super tinder, catching flame with the smallest of sparks. He had searched for a door as he had to dodge the ever-increasing amount of flame and smoke that was filling up the building.
At least he didn’t have to worry about a light source any longer. Not that the visibility was much better with the haze that was getting lower and lower. Joshua crouched down as he ran, doing what he could to keep out of the toxic fumes.
And then he found it. A door, leading out of the nightmare raging around him. He grabbed a hold of the handle and went to open it. Locked.
Desperate to get out of the blistering heat, Joshua looked around him for something he could use to break his way through the door. All around him, embers blew about in the wind caused by the rapid change in temperature, each spark carrying with it another competing blaze.
The flames flickered with an intensity and randomness that caused reality to warp. Distances became indistinct and shapes wavered in the heat, but as Joshua continued to scan the space around him, he spotted an area just beyond a stack of burning hay bales. It was a place that was relatively free of the fires that raged almost everywhere at this point. And in its center was an enormous tractor with a hay baler behind it.
Maybe he could jump start the tractor and ram the vehicle into the door. It felt like a long shot, but it was the only option he could see working right now. He certainly couldn’t break the door down himself, considering the shape of his ribcage right now.
A change in air pressure alerted him. Joshua spun around, seeing that the door was now open. And coming forth from the darkness beyond was Preston. He carried a gun in one hand and what looked like a heavy metal pipe in the other.
“Hey there, Joshua,” Preston called out, his tone mocking. “Congrats, dude. You made it past my welcome mat.” He held the gun leveled at Joshua’s head.
“What can I say? I’m a resilient bastard,” Joshua replied, cursing himself. Why didn’t he have his weapon out? His feelings of awkwardness with a new gun had caused him to holster it, and now there was no way he could pull his weapon before Preston shot him through the head. Besides the fact that Joshua wasn’t sure his ribs would allow him to get it out at all.
“’Scuse me,” Preston said, as he moved closer.
He reached his hand around Joshua’s side for the holster, his own gun trained on Joshua’s head the entire time. As Preston slipped the Glock free, Joshua couldn’t help but release a hiss of pain as the movement bit into his broken ribs. Preston took a step back, grinning.
“Oh, hey. You didn’t get out without some damage, did you? Well, this is going to be fun.”
Joshua knew he only had one chance. So, gritting his teeth against the pain he knew would come, he delivered a quick snap kick to Preston’s hand, knocking the gun away. The weapon flew through the air, disappearing into the flickering light and shadow of the blaze that surrounded them.
But even as his kick accomplished what he wanted, Joshua had to watch, helpless, as Preston swung the pipe around, connecting with Joshua’s side. The breath whooshed out of his lungs, the pain causing lights to dance in front of his eyes.
Sweat dripped down Joshua’s neck as he struggled to maintain consciousness. He blocked the next swing of the pipe with his forearm, feeling the bones snap under the impact. And then time slowed as he watched the pipe come back around in a deadly arc toward his head. There was nothing he could do but watch.
The blackness reached up to swallow him whole. Its embrace was dark and cool, like a subterranean pool, a blissful release from the pain and heat. Joshua sank down, glad that he wouldn’t have to be awake for what came next.
* * *
Had felt, more than heard, the door open once more. Preston was back. Did that mean that Had’s friends were all dead? That couldn’t be the case. They were so much smarter and better than Had. He might get duped by a killer, but they weren’t so gullible.
But when a light from a flashlight glared, it wasn’t Preston’s face he saw. It was Coop. Had was pretty sure he’d never been happier to see anyone in his life.
“Had!” she exclaimed, coming over to his side and ripping the duct tape off. Had barely noticed the pain, he was so relieved. But then he looked more closely. She looked like she’d had the will to live beaten out of her. More than once.
“Coop,” he answered, looking around. “Where’s everyone else?”
The BAU agent moved to start removing Had’s bindings. “I’m not sure. Chance and Jensen are both down, and I’m pretty sure Preston left traps in all of the buildings.”
“How did you find me?”
“I didn’t,” she replied, pulling off the ropes that had bound his legs and ankles. She was more tentative in her movements than he’d ever seen her be before, but he didn’t take much time to think about it. He felt the blood rush back, causing prickles to travel up and down his legs as she continued talking. “I’m pretty sure I was in the wrong building, but all of the cellars seem to be connected. It’s like a maze down here.”
“I think Preston went upstairs,” he said, working his feet back and forth to try to get the feeling back. “There was an explosion.”
Agent Cooper’s mouth became a straight line at that news, as she struggled with the knots to the bindings on his arms. “Let’s get you loose, then we’ll have to deal with Preston.”
“Coop, I’m sorry,” Had blurted. He felt a pricking at the backs of his eyes as he struggled to contain his emotion. “You’re in danger because I was careless.”
“No.” She stopped working on the ropes for a moment and looked him dead in the eye. “We’re all in danger because of me. I wouldn’t listen. Not to Joshua, not to you.”
“That’s not—”
But Coop cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. And then his bindings were off, and it was time to hunt down the hunter. Things were bad; Had knew that. But seeing Coop had taken away most of his fear, even if she wasn’t completely herself.
Now all he wanted to do was take Preston down.
* * *
Joshua woke to vibrations underneath him and the cool night air blowing through his hair. Wait. His eyes shot open.
Cool night air? Vibrations? What the hell?
His hands were tied in front of him. There was nothing but endless stars above him, which were blotted out abruptly as Preston’s head intruded on his view.
“Oh, you’re awake,” he yelled over the rumbling sound that was all around them. “Fantastic! Wouldn’t want to do this while you were unconscious.”
Glancing around, Joshua saw that they were atop the large rectangular hay baler that was moving at a slow pace across an open field. The tractor was unmanned, and Joshua guessed that Preston must have thrown him up here, then put the vehicle in gear, smashing out of the burning warehouse they’d been trapped inside.
“You know, it’s funny,” Preston chattered away. “You were the one that gave me the idea. There you were, staring at the tractor when I came out. And it’s just about perfect, don’t you think?”
Joshua watched as Preston waved his gun around as he gestured. He must’ve found the weapon back in the warehouse once he’d kn
ocked Joshua out.
Preston stared down at Joshua, his eyes nothing but dark shadows in the moonlit night. “This is the closest thing I could come to a wood chipper out here. A fitting death for you, doncha think?” He gestured down at the machine beneath them.
Joshua glanced behind him. There was an opening in the baler, through which he could see the hay being compressed underneath them. Preston meant to toss him inside.
“Hey…” Preston stopped, seeming to make a realization. “Ha! Hay, get it?” he glanced down at Joshua, seeing his expression. “Oh, come on. It’s the best I could do on short notice,” he said, grinning. “Man, it’s been a fun ride, hasn’t it? And don’t worry. I’ve got plans for your friends, too. You’re not going out alone.”
The mention of Had and Coop did something to Joshua. A pain, completely separate from his broken ribs, spread through his entire being. His façade of nonchalance was breaking away in tatters.
The thought of harm coming to those two filled Joshua with a burning rage, deep in the core of his being. He could not let that happen. Would not.
But even as the anger cleared away the last cobwebs of his unconsciousness, it caused him to back up and calculate. There wouldn’t be much more than one shot at this, and there might not even be that.
To buy time to look for that opening, Joshua baited Preston. “So, you’re not Humpty. Just a cheap knock off.”
It was immediately clear that Joshua had hit pay dirt. “Knock off?” Preston growled. “I took what that bastard taught me and improved on it.”
His words hit Joshua with a force greater than the pipe had delivered. “Hold on. You know Humpty?”
“Of course,” the killer shrugged, his movements casual. “How do you think I knew how to get under your skin so well?” He peered into Joshua’s face. “And I did, didn’t I?”
“But you…” Joshua’s voice trailed off. His brain was short-circuiting as he tried to put together all of the pieces of the puzzle.
“Yeah. That was the most fun part of it. Knowing that you thought I was him.” Preston smirked. “He taught me all he knew, that mean asswipe. But I took what he had and improved on it.”
Humpty Dumpty: The killer wants us to put him back together again (Book 1 of the Nursery Rhyme Murders Series) Page 28