Bug Out! Part 11: Motorhomes on the Dark Road

by Robert Boren

  “What about those victims?” she asked. “What about their stuff?”

  “You should give up anything a relative can prove belonged to their loved ones,” Malcolm said. “And make sure there’s plenty of publicity about it. You can’t buy that kind of advertising.”

  Jane shot Frank a look, and he stood.

  “Okay, we can discuss it later,” he said. “We need to discuss how we can protect ourselves. I agree with the general that attacks will diminish as the country stabilizes, but we can’t relax yet. We’re still in the thick of things.”

  “Frank’s right,” the Sheriff said. “A group of enemy fighters could still sneak in here and kill us all. The nerve gas they had scares me. We need to watch the back end of the park.”

  “Nerve gas?” Terry asked.

  “Yeah, there were nerve gas mortar rounds out there,” the General said.

  “Where are they now?” Jake asked.

  “We put them in the front building,” the Sheriff said.

  “How come they didn’t use those last night?” Trish asked.

  “Remember the wind, honey? Up on the roof of that barn?” Terry asked. “It was blowing in from behind the park. Unless they could have lit them up behind the park, it would have hit them instead of us.”

  “Couldn’t they have shot them past us?” Trish asked. “To the back of the park? Let the wind carry it to us?”

  “No,” General Hogan said. “Not with those Chinese mortars they were using. If they were right up close to the front of the park, no problem, but they were too far out. And by the way, those shells are Chinese too, like the mortars. Somebody in the Chinese government gave them to the enemy. I’ve already notified the Pentagon.”

  “Well, if we get attacked again from the front of the park, we can use it against them,” George said. “Assuming the wind is helping us out.”

  “It almost always blows this way,” Jake said. “Great for me. I open the windows on the far side of my trailer and it blows out the heat right away.”

  “Okay, let’s focus, people,” Frank said. “We need suggestions. How do we keep watch for more attacks?”

  “What about putting an army detail nearby?” Mary asked.

  “They’re still spread too thin,” General Hogan said.

  “Until we come up with a better solution, we should post sentries,” Jerry said.

  “Who else uses the roads leading here?” Jake asked. “I’ve never seen anybody on them until last night. Maybe we can set up mines.”

  “Not a bad idea, I suppose,” General Hogan said. “We’d have to be prepared to accept the consequences if an innocent gets blown up though.”

  “It’s too big of a risk,” Jerry said. “But how about a non-lethal booby trap?”

  “What do you mean?” Jake asked.

  “A set of alarms,” Jerry said

  “Now you’re talking,” Frank said. “I’m about ready to release the last update on the apps, which will put the long range detail app into general use. Afterwards, I’ll have plenty of free time. Perhaps you, Jake, and I can come up with an early warning system which doesn’t rely on human eyeballs.”

  “I’ll start thinking about it now,” Jake said. “A few ideas come to mind right off the top of my head.”

  “Until we get it in place, let’s set up a sentry schedule,” the Sheriff said.

  “That’s essential,” General Hogan said. “I’ll help with the setup, and my boys and I will take part, of course.”

  “Great. So we have a plan. Let’s work it, folks,” Frank said.

  Malcolm got George’s attention. He walked over with Heidi.

  “Time to focus on Nighthawk?” Heidi asked.

  “I think we have things to work on,” Malcolm said. “There’s been action. Our old friend Agent Keith has been busy on an investigation.”

  “That jerk weed is still in the FBI?” George asked.

  “Yeah,” Malcolm said. “Remember the biker massacre?”

  “You’re still thinking Howard and Scott had something to do with it?” George asked.

  “Geez,” Heidi said. “I read about that. It was a bloody mess.”

  “Yeah, it was a bloody mess,” Malcolm said. “If we were unaware, we would be ripe for an attack like that here.”

  “I have a little more faith in our group,” George said. “But go on.”

  “I got a message from Ted last night while I was on the stakeout with Kurt. They’ve been watching Agent Keith ever since our earlier problems with him.”

  “Wait, is he the guy who caused problems for us during the Sailor Boy thing?” Heidi asked.

  “Yeah,” Malcolm said.

  “He’s still working for the FBI? Seriously?” she asked.

  “Federal employees,” George said, shaking his head. “Hard to get rid of them.”

  “He was the first FBI agent on the scene of the biker massacre,” Malcolm said. “He got a firsthand look at everything, but he hasn’t been forthcoming about it. Not one bit. The incident proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Scott is still alive. Keith hasn’t reported it.”

  “Why?” George asked.

  “We aren’t sure,” Malcolm said. “Ted thinks he might want to goad us into an attack, so he has another chance to take us down.”

  “Ted going to rectify the situation?” George asked.

  “Not publically, but the FBI brass is well aware of what’s happening. It does complicate matters for us though.”

  “How can he tell Scotty was involved in this thing?” Heidi asked. “The news reports didn’t say anything about him.”

  “The farmhouse belonged to Scotty’s cousin,” Malcolm said. “The bikers were her friends, from up north. Her boyfriend was a member. And by the way, this wasn’t a real biker gang.”

  “Weekend warriors?” George asked.

  “Yeah,” Malcolm said.

  “What do you mean?” Heidi asked.

  “There’s two kinds of biker gangs out there,” George said. “The ones who are into organized crime, and the ones who are just recreational. You don’t want to tangle with the organized crime types. They’re always armed. The recreational types may get into a barroom brawl every once in a while, but they usually have day jobs. They aren’t criminals, and they’re rarely armed.”

  “So these bikers weren’t even armed?”

  “Yeah, Heidi,” Malcolm said. “They weren’t even armed. Scotty and Howard tried to set up a scene where one biker killed a deputy out by the road, but the local sheriff figured it out before Agent Keith even got there.”

  “Interesting,” George said. “You think he planned this whole thing out?”

  “Yes and no,” Malcolm said. “Here’s the most interesting part. Jason Beckler’s family is from the area, and we know that Red Dagger used to hang around there too. Guess what they found in the basement of the farmhouse?”

  “What?” Heidi asked.

  “I’m betting another dungeon,” George said.

  “Yep,” Malcolm said. “Luckily the local sheriff found it before Agent Keith locked things down.”

  “Why didn’t that hit the news reports?” Heidi asked.

  “The FBI sat on it,” Malcolm said.

  “So what do we do now?” Heidi asked.

  “Research,” Malcolm said.

  “What kind of research?” she asked.

  “We know Scotty is into history. He’s continued using markings from the old days even though it’s dangerous for him. He preserved the dungeon here even though it’s risky for him. He knows it’s dangerous for him to come back here, but he’s willing to return to protect this stuff. I think he was planning on locking down the dungeon at the farmhouse, too. Once the real FBI investigators got into the place, they found documentation just like we have here. Movies and other mementoes.”

  “Really?” Heidi asked, eyes wide, fascinated.

  “Yeah, they found things related to Red Dagger, Chet, and several Becklers, including Jason as a young man.
”

  “Holy shit,” George said.

  “This tells me his hideout in Ohio probably has historical significance. We need to take a real hard look at serial killer history there.”

  “I’m good at that kind of research,” Heidi said.

  “Yes, you are,” George said.

  “I’ll get right on it,” she said. “Anything about their recent exploits?”

  “I need to get back on it, now that things appear to be settling down a little,” Malcolm said. “We know about the college girls they’ve used and left with markings, and the two women they snatched from the Walmart parking lot who they didn’t use.”

  “Didn’t use?” Heidi asked.

  “Didn’t sexually assault,” Malcolm said.

  “Oh. Yuk.”

  “There are two college girls who disappeared along their route before the massacre, but haven’t shown up yet,” Malcolm said. “It’s been too long for them. I doubt he still has them, so they’ll turn up soon. There was also another coed who disappeared afterwards. She might still be with them, although authorities think her disappearance isn’t related. She had a reason to take off.”

  “What?” Heidi asked.

  “She set up the rape of one of her sorority sisters,” Malcolm said.

  “Wonderful,” Heidi said, shaking her head.

  Malcolm’s phone rang. “It’s Ted,” he said, putting the phone to his ear. He wandered off, talking.

  “You okay?” George asked.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, smiling at him. “I find this fascinating. I just don’t want us to get into trouble.”

  Malcolm walked back over, a grim look on his face. “Speak of the devil.”

  “Uh oh,” George said.

  “They found one of the two coeds from before the massacre,” he said. “Her name was Kayla.”

  “Where?” Heidi asked.

  “About two miles away from the farmhouse.”

  “She a normal victim?” George asked.

  “No, she wasn’t,” Malcolm said. “Looks like she died while putting up a fight. The bullet nicked her hand before hitting her in the chest.”

  “But the markings were there?” Heidi asked.

  “Yep,” Malcolm said. “They think she was dead for a while before she got dumped. And get this. They think Scotty and Howard killed her in a motor home.”

  “How can they tell?” Heidi asked.

  “She had Luan fibers on her clothes. Looks like they got there when she was dragged out the door,” Malcolm said.

  “What’s Luan?” George asked.

  “I know,” Heidi said. “My dad always called it garbage. It’s a soft, cheap type of wood used in lower end RVs.”

  “Hey, didn’t an eyewitness see a Class C RV near the scene of one of the abductions?” George asked.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, but it wasn’t a reliable of a witness,” Malcolm said.

  George saw Kurt over by the door of the clubhouse and motioned to him.

  He walked over. “What’s up?”

  “Did Howard have an RV?”

  “Yeah, he did. I saw it when we were over there, parked in the back. A nice Class C. Couple years old.”

  Chapter 7 – Gravel Pit

  Heidi, Jane, and Jasmine were sitting in the clubhouse, working on their laptops. Jane and Jasmine were following enemy movements. Heidi was doing research on serial killer activity in Ohio.

  Trish walked in with her laptop. “Mind if I set up in here?”

  “Of course not,” Jane said. “Good place to hang out while the boys are busy.”

  “You want to work on the enemy, or the serial killers?” Heidi asked.

  “I’m interested in the killers,” she said. “I heard you’re working on history.”

  “Yeah,” Heidi said. “Lots of stuff to crunch through, and I’m only looking at the unsolved ones. I got some passwords from George, so we can get into FBI files and other places that most people can’t.”

  “Cool,” Trish said. “Found anything out so far?”

  “Yeah,” Heidi said. “The most interesting character I’ve found is the Cleveland Torso Murderer.”

  “What’s so interesting about him?” Trish asked.

  “He was prolific, and he lasted a long time. Some experts have suggested that he wasn’t a solo killer. Oh, and he had an alternate name, which isn’t used much today. The Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run.”

  “Some think a clan did those murders?”

  “Yes, some do,” Heidi said. “Others believe there were separate, unrelated people involved with many of them.”

  “When did he start?”

  “Conventional wisdom says 1935,” Heidi said. “Most investigators think he killed twelve people between 1935 and 1938 and then disappeared.”

  “That’s too old to be related to recent clans, isn’t it?” Trish asked.

  “Well, the story is getting more interesting as I’m digging in,” Heidi said. “Other investigators believe he killed thirteen more people, as late as the early 1950s, and as early as the 1920s. There’s even one investigator who believes the Torso Murderer was responsible for the Black Dahlia murder.”

  “What? That’s California.”

  “I understand,” Heidi said. “The investigator who came up with that was ridiculed for it, but he stuck to his guns over the years.”

  “This reminds me of the Nighthawk Road Killer,” Trish said.

  “Oh, you’ve done research on that one?”

  “Yeah,” Trish said. “Those murders started in the late 40s and ran until a few years ago. Obviously not just one person. Wonder if there’s any relation between those and the Torso Murderer?”

  “I doubt it. They’re pretty far apart, and it doesn’t appear that the Torso Murderer went past the 1950s,” Heidi said.

  “You’re probably right, but it’s still worth looking at,” Trish said.

  “Was Chet ever a suspect in the Nighthawk Road case?” Heidi said.

  “He was brought in for questioning,” Trish said. “Nothing came of it.”

  “How about Howard?”

  “I couldn’t find anything about him,” Trish said. “Or Scott.”

  “If Chet was questioned, there may have been surveillance done,” Heidi said. “See if you can find anything on this site.” She underlined one of the URLs on a slip of paper and slid it over to her.

  “Okay,” Trish said. She focused on her laptop.

  ***

  Jake was digging around in his bobtail. Terry and Frank were with him.

  “What are you looking for?” Terry asked.

  “Electronic eye hardware,” Jake said, climbing out with two boxes. “And sensors for auto-opening doors. The electronic eye box has a hole in it, I’m afraid.”

  “Bullet hole?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah,” Terry said. “We got shot up on the way out to Gabe’s place.”

  “That’s right, I remember,” Frank said. “Seems like such a long time ago.”

  “Sure does,” Jake said, bringing the boxes out of the truck. “I’m glad the electronic eye is the one that’s shot up. This is obsolete technology now.”

  “It says wireless on the box,” Frank said. “Doesn’t look that old to me.”

  “Oh, yeah, and it works, too. I had one in my store for a while. The only problem with these is that you need to mount both the light and the sensor, and they can’t be more than about twenty feet apart.”

  “So we’d need a fence or tree on either side.” Terry said.

  “Yeah,” Jake said as he opened the box. “We lucked out. Nothing damaged. The bullet missed everything except for packing material.”

  “How about the other one?” Frank asked.

  “This is a replacement for commercial automatic doors,” Jake said, holding up the box. “I’ve got more of them in the truck, but they present a challenge.”

  “What’s that?” Frank asked.

  “They aren’t wireless. They send a sig
nal to activate the door motor, but only over a wire. We’d have to either run a lot of wire or come up with a wireless solution to make this work.”

  “Sounds like something Frank could figure out,” Terry said.

  “How many of these do you have?” Frank asked.

  “At least ten,” Jake said. “Had lots of people buying them, so I kept them on hand. Some of them might be shot up. I’ll have to take a look.”

  “Interesting. I might be able to rig these to send a message out over LTE,” Frank said. “We’d need phones with removable batteries.”

  Jake grinned. “I’ve got some obsolete phones that have removable batteries,” Jake said. “I used to sell them to construction companies, because you can drop these suckers over and over and they still work. Heavy duty, with a multiple battery setup. Bought way too many of those. I almost left them at home.”

  “What makes them obsolete?” Terry asked.

  “They’re big and heavy, and to charge them you always have to pull out the battery and put it on a separate charger. People just want to plug in their phone these days. I’ll grab one so you can look at it.” He climbed back into his bobtail and rummaged around.

  “You’ve got an idea, Frank,” Terry said. “I can see it on your face.”

  “Yep,” Frank said. “Don’t know if it will work or not though.”

  Jake climbed out of the truck with two boxes. “Here’s two that don’t have bullet holes.” He handed one to Frank.

  “I remember these,” Frank said. “We used to give them to our system managers at work. They have that push-to-talk feature.”

  “Push-to-talk?” Terry asked.

  “Yeah, it was a way to cut down on cell minute charges,” Frank said. “They had a walkie-talkie mode. You had to set up call circles ahead of time, but then when you were in range, you could talk back and forth for free, like you were on a walkie-talkie. Worked great for us.”

  “How many spots do you think we need to set up?” Terry asked.

  “I can think of five,” Frank said. “We have that much hardware?”

  “Probably,” Jake said. “I threw more than that in the truck. As long as they aren’t shot up, we’re good.”

  “Good,” Frank said. “How about if I take one phone and one of the motion sensors and see if I can connect them.”