‘What are you going to do?’ Evie asked, still chewing on her polished nails.
But Mason didn’t hear her, for he was already halfway out the door.
76
Amy had tried banging and screaming, but it was hopeless. Nobody was around to help her. Even if they were, they wouldn’t be able to hear her. The killer had made her well aware of that when he’d slid back the mailbox-sized slot.
‘It’s soundproof,’ he had said. ‘Try all you want, but nobody can hear ya.’
With this in mind, she became silent in the dark. The cool metal pressed against her cheek while her eyes became sore with streams of tears. She would let them out now, while the killer wasn’t looking–her father had taught her to be strong, so that was the only side of herself she would let show.
As much as she wanted to beg for her life, Amy sat quietly. If she could just get a moment to talk with the man, she might be able to manipulate him a little. So total silence was probably her best bet.
After a while, he must have noticed how she’d suddenly become mute. He opened up the slide and peered through, looking over his shoulder instead of at the road.
‘Where are you taking me?’ Amy asked calmly.
The killer looked confused. Uncomfortable. He closed the slide, inviting darkness.
Amy was left alone again, if only for a few seconds.
The slide came open once more. ‘Away.’
She knew he hadn’t been taking her home. Why would he? He had everything he’d ever wanted now, and even her father might not be able to stop him.
But that didn’t keep her from praying.
77
Mason blasted through the dark with nothing but the headlights to guide him.
Cliffside Hill. That was where he had to go. It was lucky that he knew the place. He’d taken Sandra to the restaurant for their proposal dinner all those years ago. Mason didn’t think that the killer had known that, but it was a hell of a coincidence.
The cell phone jingled in his lap. Another text.
Mason steered with one hand and read it with the other: Time is running out.
He was damn right about that. With only four minutes left on the clock, he had to punch the gas. Maybe he could make it if he cut a corner or two, but this would have to be the best driving of his life.
He eased on the brake and swung the rear end of the Mustang around the curve. It was a heavy machine, not built for this kind of driving. It roared as it gripped the road, waving smoke out from under the tyres.
Not far now.
The phone went off again. A picture of Amy. She was crying now, sending Mason into a blind rage. Nobody lays a hand on my little girl. By the looks of it, she was on the edge of a cliff, with the moonlit sky behind her. There was another message attached.
Two minutes.
Mason couldn’t check his phone again. Every second was vital.
With the clock ticking and his adrenaline at an all-time high, he pushed the car to its limit and pierced through the darkness.
78
The wind was howling relentlessly. Spatters of rain aggressively assaulted his face, numbing his cheeks and ears. It was unbearably cold, but worth it just to prove a point.
‘Sit quietly,’ said Wendell, setting up his climactic display. Nothing had ever been more exhilarating than this. Sure, he had hurt and killed the real little shits. This girl didn’t seem like one of them. She seemed smart, but not enough to grow up and become a con artist. Pretty, but not enough to grow up and become a cock-teasing bitch. She was… normal.
But she still has to die.
The girl was sobbing, too–trying to hide it, but definitely sobbing.
‘Stop that stupid noise,’ he demanded, tightening the rope. It was difficult enough to get ready in time. Before long, Mason would be at the target location, and he hadn’t even finished up here yet.
‘My dad will come for me,’ the girl protested, feigning toughness.
‘He’d better.’ This was everything the killer had wanted. This would be the last time anybody tried to fuck with him. Why did anybody even try to stop me? I was doing a good thing, fer crying out loud. Why should these little bastards get to enjoy their childhoods?
‘He’s going to kick your ass.’
Wendell was losing his patience. He went to his tool bag and retrieved the pliers. ‘I was going to do this last, but since it’s the only way to shut you up…’ He stepped forward and pulled her from the side of the van. She was surprisingly heavy for a girl of her age, and the kicking around didn’t help. Halfway to the edge of the cliff, he gave up and hurled her onto the rocky ground.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, scrambling backwards. The tears came again.
‘Little girls need to be punished.’ He lunged forward and grabbed her wrist, forcing her hand into a steady position while the girl screamed and thrashed, trying to hit him.
Thankfully, she wasn’t strong enough to stop him.
‘Please!’ Desperation filled her screams.
The killer placed the metal ridges on either side of her pinkie fingers and squeezed. It took all his strength to hold her in place while he crushed the bone and tore the flesh. It was a poor choice of tool, like cutting through steak with a plastic knife.
After much wrangling to prise it from her hand, blood spat out and into the dirt, merging into a whirlwind before being patted out by the rain. ‘There you go,’ he said, wiggling the finger in front of her before tossing it over the cliff. Wendell wanted to keep it, really, but he would be able to start a new collection when he got to Seattle.
The girl rolled to her side and spewed into a puddle, clenching her hand. It was a hideous sight, he thought, but she had been put in her place. Now, he was all power. ‘Now, shut the hell up. I got work to do.’
‘You’re… a monster,’ the girl said, weeping.
‘Oh, honey. No, no. I’m the product of a monster.’ Wendell thought about his home being invaded by Mason Black. ‘The real crime is trying to stop me.’
79
Bill was driving as fast as he could, while Evie kept lookout beside him. She wasn’t used to being alone with him, and it wasn’t as awkward as she had imagined. Perhaps the desperation to help Mason was their common ground.
‘He’s getting farther away,’ Bill said, shifting gears with a stern look.
‘Just do what you can.’
They’d jumped into the car as soon as Mason had left the house. Marvin Wendell had told him to come alone, but they couldn’t allow it. If only they could hang back and out of view, Amy would remain unharmed. But if Mason was in a tight spot, Evie would never forgive herself for refusing to act.
‘We’re going to lose him if we don’t go faster.’ Bill had made his protest that they catch up, but Evie had remained strict.
‘Stay steady.’
Although Bill was right, and they did in fact lose sight of Mason’s taillights in the distance, they at least knew that they weren’t far behind him. That Amy wouldn’t be utterly alone, should anything happen to Mason–heaven forbid.
They drove further up the hill, where strong gusts of wind could be heard even from inside the car. Evie knew they were near Cliffside now, and they would locate her brother in no time at all. ‘Switch off your lights.’
‘What? It’s pitch-black out here, are you cra–’
‘Just do it.’ As soon as she spotted the stationary Mustang on the hill, she pointed up at it, which motivated Bill to obey her. ‘Stop the car.’ They screeched to a halt and she climbed out, running up the hill in the dark towards Mason’s car.
Please be inside, please be inside, she thought. Mason was good at taking care of himself and Evie wouldn’t have to worry there. But when Amy was involved, somebody was going to get hurt. Evie only hoped it would be the Lullaby Killer.
It took a few minutes to reach the car, trudging uphill in the heavy shower. After clawing her way to the top, she could see that the door was open and the engine was sh
ut off. Only the dome light lent any illumination to the vacant interior.
‘Shit!’ she said aloud, getting drenched in the rain. She looked back down the hill, where Bill was watching her from the dry safety of his own car.
Evie turned back around, and a light on the car seat caught her eye.
What the…
She leaned in, reached for it and gripped the cell phone in her hand. There was a picture on the screen. It was Amy, and she stood on the edge of the cliff. Her lip was curved in as if she were crying. But the most noticeable feature of the photo was the horrific bloody patch on her left hand.
‘Son of a bitch,’ Evie muttered, trying not to gag.
Mason was lost to her, and Amy was in big trouble. It was clear to her now that – in spite of her efforts – the Lullaby Killer was going to win.
80
Mason’s hands were up in surrender as he looked at the end of the gun.
‘Take off your coat,’ Wendell instructed. ‘I want to see that gun of yours.’
After all these years, it felt surreal to see the infamous Lullaby Killer in the flesh. Mason had expected no more than the man he had seen in the photographs, but he had built up the image of a demon in his mind. Seeing him in person now, he looked just like a regular man–save for the missing finger on his left hand.
‘If you insist.’ Mason slid off his trench coat and it flumped to the wet ground. His black t-shirt was soaking through, matting to his skin. It was everything he could do not to shiver and show his weakness.
Wendell looked at the revolver in the holster and his eyes widened. ‘I’ll take that. Damn risky of you, Mr Black.’ Carefully keeping the gun on him, Wendell took out the revolver and threw it into the bushes behind him.
While he had his back turned, Mason saw a fleeting opportunity to rush the killer. It was perfectly possible to tackle him, knocking the gun from his hand. But if he did that, he knew he would never see Amy again. ‘Now, where is my daughter?’
Wendell gave a sly grin, then nodded at the RV.
‘Inside?’
‘Go on.’
Mason had every doubt that Amy would be safely tucked away inside the RV, but he couldn’t take the risk of not even checking. Slowly, he walked towards the door with his hands still in the air, still resisting the urge to fight this son of a bitch.
‘Open it.’ The killer waved the pistol around.
Taking every bit of caution, Mason prised open the side door. He hadn’t truly expected to see her inside, and that was why it came as no surprise that he was faced with only the metal backing he’d been in before.
‘Now get in.’
Mason sighed, lowered his hands and turned to face the killer. ‘Why don’t you just kill me and let her go? You would still get to go free, when all is said and done.’
‘You’d let me go that easily?’ He chuckled. ‘I’m disappointed.’
‘If it gets my daughter to safety, sure.’ Mason wondered about any future victims that this guy might take. It felt wrong to be sacrificing himself for his daughter, and then to let the elusive Lullaby Killer carry on his business. ‘Makes sense, right?’
For a passing moment, Wendell lowered his eyes. It was like he was strongly considering taking his advice. But then a light returned to his expression, and he stepped forward with the gun still trained on Mason. ‘I need you alive. At least until that little girl has watched you struggle in agony before your death. After that… maybe I’ll consider giving her a swift death. But then again, she seems like she could take a little torture.’ Wendell grinned and shoved him towards the door.
Against his better judgement, Mason climbed into the back of the RV, hoping – praying – that he would be able to get Amy to safety… at any cost.
81
Although Bill was coming towards her, Evie needed to run. There was just no time to wait for him, no matter how much she needed his help.
Down at the bottom of the slope was the killer’s RV. Mason was climbing into it, while Marvin Wendell took shelter behind the trigger of a gun. It wasn’t looking good for her brother or her niece, but she had to try to do something.
The slope was steep–too steep to make it down unscathed. But as Wendell was closing the side-door of the RV, it looked as though timing was everything.
Bill finally caught up to her side, panting. ‘Shit, Evie! Where is he taking him?’
Evie peered over the edge, judging her chances. She estimated an eighty-percent chance of survival, but only a two-percent chance of it not hurting like hell. But I have to try.
Reluctant, she took a deep breath and a step back.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Bill, but there was no time to let him talk her out of it.
It was now or never.
Evie took a run-up and threw herself down the slope. She landed on her ass and moved her feet quickly, trying to break her fall into a load of miniature drops. If she wasn’t careful, her foot would catch and she would flip over, ending her crazy rescue attempt.
She began to pick up speed, and she caught a hazy blur of the killer climbing into the RV. Hopefully he wouldn’t see her, and if God was on her side, she would make it in time.
But as the rocks tore at her skin, flipping and rolling her, she heard the moan of the engine below her. The headlights came on and she was nowhere close to stopping him.
More rolling debris caught her, tearing up her arms. She was vaguely aware of Bill calling after her. The idiot is going to give me away. Evie dug in her heel and managed to slow herself down as she approached the bottom of the slope.
And then the RV began to move.
No.
Evie was thrown chest-first into the dirt as she hit the bottom. Spotting the ladder on the back of the RV, she recovered as quickly as she could and stumbled forward, turning her combat roll into a dash. She was getting closer.
The RV was moving faster.
She was fifteen feet from reaching the ladder.
Ten feet.
Seven.
Five.
With everything she had, Evie darted forward and pushed her feet down, leaping as far as she could with an outstretched arm. It was a final, desperate grope for the ladder as it moved away from her.
Please, she thought as it moved out of her grasp.
82
Mason felt the cold discomfort of the steel. He wondered how many children had been kept here, before they’d met their premature end. How many had been locked away in here, scared and alone? How many of them knew they were going to die, and how many cried? The thoughts disgusted him as they travelled – with any luck – towards Amy.
Finally, a rough bump and a screeching grind of the gears. The engine died and a door slammed, then the side door was dragged open by a smiling Wendell.
Mason looked at the gun in his hand, glad that it was pointed at him instead of Amy.
‘Here it is, Mr Black. Your final stop.’
Mason climbed out and a strong ocean breeze rushed at his face. Violent rain thrashed at his skin in a flurry. In all his life, he had never been so damn cold.
‘Dad!’
Desperately pleased to hear her voice, Mason looked around to where his daughter stood, twenty or so yards from the edge of the cliff. A thick rope was tied around her leg, and the other end trailed off into the trees. Thankfully, she looked far enough away that she couldn’t slip and fall off the cliff, so one thing was in their favour at least.
But then Mason’s eyes landed on her bloody hand.
‘What the hell did he do?’ He went to her, stopping short as the killer rocketed a punch into his gut. It winded him, sending him to his knees. He’s stronger than he looks. Mason wanted to hit back – to beat him black and blue – but Wendell was the man with the gun.
‘One thing at a time,’ Wendell told him through gritted teeth. He stepped back, keeping the gun aimed at Mason, and moved towards the trees. Once there, he untied the rope from the trunk, returned and threw it at Mason. ‘Tie it around
you.’
What exactly is he up to? ‘Why?’
Wendell took a quick step forward and pulled back the hammer of the gun. ‘Just do it.’
Reluctantly, Mason tied a knot around his waist. Having an idea of where this might be heading, he formed a secure loop around his thigh to protect his spine if he fell. ‘There. You happy? Now let my daughter go.’
‘All in good time, Mr Black.’ He used the gun’s barrel to guide him to the edge of the cliff, where a strong gust of wind roared at them.
Mason approached and peered over at the drop. It was a hundred feet down, at least, with a rocky bottom. He couldn’t help but shiver. If this is what it takes, then so be it. But it was then that he noticed it–the one horrific detail that slotted everything into place.
The rope had become taut.
‘Dad.’
Mason turned to his daughter, who was trembling violently in the cold. ‘Just stay there.’
‘Don’t jump,’ she cried, indicating the rope around her leg.
Wendell moved towards Mason, looking proud of himself. ‘Here,’ he said, blocking the space between them, ‘is a true test of strength. Tell me, how much do you weigh?’
Mason swallowed hard. ‘You son of a bitch.’
‘Happy trails, Mr Black.’ He leapt forward with both hands out.
As Mason felt the shunt and tumbled backwards off the cliff, he heard Amy screaming.
The rope tightened, and he plummeted towards the rocky base of the cliff.
83
Evie’s knees struck the ladder with a numbing force, making her wince.
‘Shit,’ she said under her breath as her feet slipped and struggled to get a good grip on the bottom rung. Ignoring the pain, she raised her knees, tightly wrapped a sweaty palm around the ladder and pulled herself up.
It was an uncomfortable and bumpy ride to the cliff’s edge. The rain was picking up steadily and blasts of cold wind rushed at her, but she had to hold on for the sake of her family. If only she knew where they were heading.
Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story Page 16