by Hadena James
The Tylenol Murders had been well planned and well executed, but they were nothing compared to the chaos and panic that was about to erupt on the streets. It was visible, if one looked hard enough. Angry faces glared menacingly at cops who attempted to hold them back. They wanted to storm the US Marshals’ building, demanding reassurances for their fears, reassurances that we couldn’t give them. However, it wasn’t the angry faces that were the most disturbing. It was the calm ones.
These faces were just waiting for their moment. Some sign that the police and Marshals were tiring or losing ground and they would strike. They would be the instigators that would turn this from people demanding answers to people rioting.
My interest in the tall man was wavering. Sure, I could find a good spot to wait for him or I could do what I did best. I could walk through this crowd and pick out the troublemakers, the sociopaths and psychopaths that would turn this thing into a free-for-all. I searched for someone with a bullhorn or other loud device. I wanted the crowd’s attention. I had a plan to diffuse the situation.
After a few moments of searching, I found a guy in a uniform with a loudspeaker. He was shouting instructions to the crowd. They were the wrong instructions. I walked over, flashed my credentials and asked for the device that he was using as a microphone.
“US Marshal Aislinn Cain with the Serial Crimes Tracking Unit!” I shouted at the people. “I know you are angry. I know you are scared. You have every right to be. But at this exact moment, I imagine the poisoner is standing among you.”
The crowd suddenly became deathly silent, as if they were all holding their breath. Their eyes had turned to me when I announced my name. Now, I had their undivided attention.
“Along with the poisoner is a group of sociopaths and psychopaths, which under normal conditions, would not be a bad thing. Today though, they are looking for any reason to turn your quest for answers into a brawl. So, I want everyone to look around. Look at the outrage and fear on the faces of your neighbors. Those are normal reactions. However, when you find someone who does not look pissed off or scared, those would be abnormal reactions. They are feeding off you, like emotional vampires. The first bottle they throw or punch they land is going to stop you from getting any answers. Once the violence and bloodshed has started, they will slink away to watch from a safe distance. And it will start. In order to keep Sioux Falls safe, we will need the help of the public. Despite how you feel at the moment, everyone here deserves to be safe, but you will not be once the violence starts. So when it does, I want you to take notice of those perpetuating the violence. Do not assist them in destroying your city. Assist your city by pointing them out to the men and women up here, trying to keep you safe from a mass murderer as well as those who just enjoy the act of shedding blood.” I handed the CB like microphone back to the cop. He stared at it as if it was a snake. Not everyone recognized the emptiness that is expressed on the faces of sociopaths and psychopaths. I did because I saw one every time I looked in the mirror. A man grabbed my arm, his eyes were wide, and fear was visible.
“You’re a member of the SCTU?” He asked me.
“Yes,” I answered. “Unfortunately, at this time, I know as much about our poisoner as you do, but I have every intention of figuring out who is doing it and making them pay for it.”
“What you said about the crowd, is it true?” He asked.
“There are those among you that have no interest in finding answers. They only want to watch the blood run down the streets. It is a human dynamic that explains why large, angry crowds turn into mobs. It has been that way since time began and will be that way when the world ends.”
“What should we do?”
“Go home, or at the very least, keep your head down and away from the trouble when it starts.”
Fourteen
It did start. About ten minutes after my speech to the crowd, some idiot in a T-Shirt that proclaimed he was the World’s Greatest Lover, and threw an M-80 firecracker at the feet of officers. The boom was deafening, even over the noise of the crowd, which had settled down some.
Things were deteriorating quickly when Lucas walked out to help with riot control. He was a mountain, nearly four hundred pounds of pure muscle set on a body that was 6’5” and intimidating even when he smiled. His bulk waded into the crowd, grabbing the ire of some and the awe of others. A few attempted to stop his massive frame from moving into the group and find the troublemakers. Most people stepped away as if he were some advancing monster that reminded them of childhood nightmares.
I walked behind him, searching for the World’s Greatest Lover. With the crowd there, I would be forced to handcuff him when I really wanted to knock the shit out of him. It was his fault that the police were releasing pepper spray and his fault that angry, scared citizens were unleashing a barrage of debris they found on the ground at said officers.
Some guy threw a punch at Lucas. It glanced off the taller man’s shoulder. Lucas grabbed the front of the guy’s shirt, picked him up off the ground, and gave him a toss. The guy fell into the crowd as if he were trying to start a mosh pit. The aggressor looked winded and a little frightened. It didn’t even look like Lucas had expended any energy.
Hands suddenly raked through my hair, catching it, and holding fast. I spun around and caught the guy by surprise. My elbow landed in his diaphragm. He let go, doubling over. The crowd was now trying to disperse. People were shouting about the SCTU wandering through the crowd. The exact words were lost, but their tone was enough to let agitators know this was a bad thing.
They were right. We couldn’t arrest just anyone, only those who committed violent crimes. Rioters were within our purview. Looters would be iffy.
Another guy stumbled away from Lucas. So far, the big man hadn’t used any real force. He had thrown no punches, hadn’t kicked anyone, hadn’t tried to trip them, he simply grabbed them and pushed them away as he continued walking forward. As I followed, my stride twice its normal length to keep up with him, I wondered exactly what he was doing. He hadn’t been outside during the firecracker. I didn’t know what his target was, but he seemed focused on one.
A large, plastic mug hit my shoulder blade. It fell to the ground and cracked. I was guessing glass bottles were in short supply. The mug said Phil’s Go-Go Stop. I had little doubt it was some sort of gas station, but the name was somewhat interesting. My memory flashed with women in short skirts with tall boots dancing in a cage. There was little doubt that it was from a Rob Zombie concert. There just weren’t that many go-go dancers anymore, especially ones with their clothing on. Most likely, the woman’s face belonged to attractive Sheri Moon Zombie, Zombie’s wife and frequent guest star at his concerts as a go-go dancer.
It was this thought that was in my head when I caught sight of the World’s Greatest Lover. He was trying to push his way through the crowd, but he was less concerning than the approaching mountain. I tapped Lucas and pointed him out. Lucas changed course and started towards him.
Lucas was normally the calm, collected one of the bunch. He rarely ran on emotions. Today seemed to be the exception. As he turned, I caught the briefest glimpse of his face. The stone chiseled effect was enhanced. The muscle that ran from his jaw up was bulging on both sides, giving him a similar appearance of a male orangutan puffing up his face plates.
If I were an idiot that had done something to start a little violence, I wouldn’t want Lucas parting a crowd to come find me. I wouldn’t want Lucas parting a crowd with a sociopathic girl tagging along either. This guy was about to have a very bad day.
The people around us continued to part. Any interest in stopping Lucas had ended. People just wanted to get out of his way. They were less interested in letting the instigator go. A couple of people had hold of his clothing as he struggled to free himself before Lucas arrived. For the first time ever, I was not the scary one.
Lucas caught hold of the struggling World’s Greatest Lover by the back of the neck. The guy continued to fight. Lu
cas’s other hand grabbed hold of his arm. The struggle stopped and his plaintive cries of discomfort filled the air around us. Lucas swung him around to face me.
If I had something to say to him, this would have been great. As it was, I couldn’t think of a single thing to lecture him on. He was an idiot and he seemed to know it. There wasn’t much more I could do about that. We marched back to the front of the building. Lucas handed him off to someone and then surveyed the crowd. I tried to follow his eyes to see where he was looking, but his height advantage gave him a better view than what I had.
“What are you looking for?” I finally asked.
“Anyone else who wants to start trouble. We have enough problems without rioting. My size gives me an advantage over most, because it makes me intimidating. I can just stand here and survey everyone, making them feel small. The few people willing to still act like barbarians can be spotted and dealt with, or they will just come up to the two of us because we look like the kind of people they need to be aggressive towards to prove their masculinity.”
“I am not intimidating standing next to you.”
“Yes, you are. You always have the stare of a predator. It makes you an alpha. Men who need to prove their masculinity, find that very annoying.”
“So, all serial killers need to prove their masculinity?” I hoped to sound dubious.
“No, that is a completely different thing. This is about men who feel the need to be the baddest asshole in the room. You are an irritation because you are more dominant than they are. Serial killers come after you because you exude violence and they find that very attractive.”
“A person cannot exude violence.”
“Why? Violence is no different from sexuality, confidence, or niceness. Some people exude sexuality. You exude violence. That’s why Malachi lusts after you. He wants you because he craves the violence within you. In his own twisted way, he loves you.”
“Can we not have that conversation?”
“Sure, we can talk about Caleb Green if you’d prefer.”
“As a matter of fact, I would not. On the right, two o’clock.” I motioned towards a guy in a hoody. It wasn’t sweltering in South Dakota, but it was too warm for a hoody.
Lucas started to circle in from one side, and I took the other. The crowd also parted for me. Maybe there was something to Lucas’ mumbo jumbo. However, I blended in more. Hoody guy was now moving in my direction, away from Lucas. I could stand here and just wait for him to come to me, but there wouldn’t be much fun in that.
Ten more steps and we were face to face. He was young. Despite the stubble, I’d guess he was in his early twenties. His brown eyes were a little wild and they darted around. He was obviously high on something, but I didn’t know what. I grabbed his arm, and he pulled a gun and shot me point blank in the chest. I felt myself falling before everything went dark.
Opportunities
Alejandro wanted to scream. He couldn’t kill her by poisoning her favorite drink, but some junkie could shoot her. He watched it all from the front of the building, where they were trying to make a hole so people could exit.
Lucas ran at the junkie, tackling him. For a moment, they were both airborne, before slamming into the ground, with the little guy on bottom. Alejandro half expected the earth to shake under his feet. He couldn’t be sure that even he could take a full on tackle from Lucas.
Others were rushing towards the commotion. He had been expecting Lucas and Aislinn to confront him once he walked outside. They had noticed him, probably because of his incredible height, and they had tried to be discreet about it, but he had picked up on it.
Gigantism ran in his family, there was nothing to be done about that. It was why his parents had gotten together. They had both suffered from it. Now he and all his siblings did too. It had directly caused the death of their father, who at only forty-seven, had died of heart failure. He and his three brothers were all over seven feet tall. His two sisters were both well over six feet in height. It was hard to blend in with a crowd when you towered over it.
He considered standing around, waiting to see if she had been wearing a vest, but there were two other people he had to think about. Alejandro headed towards his truck. It was easy; the crowd was in a panic. A few were too shocked to move, but they were the exception. Most people were running away, unwilling to be guilty by association. The SCTU had a reputation for being violent and unpredictable.
When he’d been in the SCTU, he hadn’t known about this reputation. Now that he wasn’t, it was whispered around him. They were all crazy, unhinged, wild cards with guns. To the average person, they were harbingers of chaos. The SCTU was better than the serial killers that roamed the streets, but they walked a thin line. It didn’t help that the crowd was still getting over the news reports that Marshal Aislinn Cain had eviscerated the woman that released bubonic plague in Texas.
Now, they were witnessing her demise. They had watched her get shot. They had watched Lucas tackle the shooter. They had watched and become terrified of how the SCTU would respond.
Leaving wasn’t a great loss. He would find out on TV if she lived or died. They would report it with the same zealous enthusiasm that they had when she had killed a killer. She was their favorite subject. The pint-sized pretty girl that kicked serial killer ass made for good headlines. She was more notorious than the serial killers were; America’s most dangerous sweetheart. Live or die, Aislinn Cain would be front-page news tomorrow morning. It made him feel ill just to think about it.
No matter, he had to get home. He had to get the mask off, remove the make-up, and get ready. He had a date tonight. Not like a regular date, Maya Hudson wasn’t worthy of affection, but she didn’t know that. She honestly believed that Alejandro might be interested in her for some reason.
Alejandro knew how to string it along to get what he wanted. Maya was the key to that. As Anita’s cousin, she had raised Anita and Gavin’s son, Tyler. This meant the only way for Alejandro to have a relationship with Tyler was to have on with Maya.
Then, there was Rachel Cross, she had dated Tyler, for more than a year and then, without warning, she had dumped him. His nephew had responded by running away. If anyone knew where Tyler had gone, it was Maya. Tyler didn’t even know yet that Alejandro was his uncle. It was decided that it was a secret worth keeping, for at least a while longer.
Alejandro wasn’t happy with that situation, but he understood it, so he let it be. Instead, he had started dating Maya and befriended Tyler. Tyler had him help with repairs around the house and sometimes the fence line, even though Alejandro was capable of doing it himself.
Of course, Alejandro was still trying to piece together what had happened between Gavin and Anita. They had been an item and then she had run off, despite being pregnant with Gavin’s child. Gavin and Anita’s murders didn’t make it any easier to figure out. Maya seemed to know why Anita had come to South Dakota, but she wasn’t willing to give that secret up, yet. Alejandro was pretty sure another night of wining and dining the older woman would get her to loosen her tongue.
Alejandro had been working for years with the theory that Anita couldn’t handle Gavin’s work with the government. It was hard to be an informant on your own people for dealing drugs. However, lately, he’d begun to wonder if it wasn’t actually Kevin Hyder. It was possible that he was the reason Anita had left.
For Alejandro, there were many questions left unanswered. However, he didn’t trust the SCTU to come up with the answers. The same things that had tripped up the original investigation would blind them. Gavin had seen Anita within a few hours of her death. Of that, Alejandro was sure. He also believed it was the reason Gavin had been murdered.
Of course, the police believed that Gavin was the last person to see Anita alive and had killed her. He matched the witness descriptions. They hadn’t bothered to solve it after Gavin had been murdered, because in their opinion, the murderer was dead.
Since it was daylight, Alejandro stopped at a
deserted road and pulled the latex from his hands and face. He used a cotton cleansing cloth for make-up removal on his eyelids, ears, and anywhere else the pale base had touched. It wouldn’t do to return home still covered in this stuff during the day. It might raise a few eyebrows. Lastly, he removed the colored contacts.
He stuffed it all in a bag and shoved it under his seat, before he began driving again. The sequence of events that had brought him to this point were still strange to him. It had started with Gavin’s murder, continued through his sister’s psychotic break, and then became his quest after that bitch, Aislinn Cain, had poisoned him. He imagined there were worse things he could be doing with his ample amount of time. At least the killings were mercifully. He wasn’t torturing the women before he killed them.
Besides, the world could use a few less women. They were nothing but trouble. They were uppity, snobbish, controlling, warmongers. They ran their big fat mouths without ever thinking of the consequences. He’d gotten into plenty of fights in his younger days because of his sisters and his girlfriends.
Society encouraged this behavior. Society had told them that they could do anything and so they did. It didn’t matter that their logic was often flawed and clouded with emotions. It didn’t matter that their intelligence, no matter how high, was constantly being dampened by their need to compete with anyone superior to themselves. They wanted to be in control. It didn’t matter how they got that control. It wasn’t enough for them to be at the forefront of domestic tranquility. It wasn’t enough for them to have children to raise and a husband to keep happy. They wanted to go out into the world and start arguments over their lack of equality in the job place. However, a woman couldn’t do most of the jobs Alejandro had done.
Even Aislinn Cain was still alive because of the men in her life, not because of her skills. They even let her take credit for capturing the bad guys because she was pretty on the front page. He knew that no matter what had been reported, Aislinn Cain had not eviscerated a serial killer in Texas. Just like she hadn’t killed the guy in Alaska. Most likely, they were Lucas’s work, but he was willing to let her take credit for them, because he was a nice guy. And because he was nice, he was easy for women like Aislinn Cain to manipulate.