Survivor

by J. F. Gonzalez

  "Good.", Rick leaned back in his chair and appeared to be thinking. He stared at the ceiling. Tim tried to relax but couldn't. It was hard to relax in Rick Shectman's presence. After all, that could have been me last night, he thought. It could be me sooner than Id like if f fuck up again.

  This train of thought was one of the reasons why he was getting out. After this next job, he was over the hills and far away. The incident at the cabin had been the last straw. It wasn't so much his own fuckup of not putting his foot down when Al had told him Sam changed his mind about the Miller bitch Sam had been pretty explicit when he gave Tim the job, and he realized now he shouldn't have let Al manipulate him. He should have questioned Al more thoroughly. Al should have just fucking done his job, no questions asked, but he was a greedy fuck. No, it wasn't that narrow escape. The real reason was that ever since watching what Animal had done to that baby, and Al and Rick's indifference to it all, he realized that he wasn't wired like they were. Those guys were fucking ruthless; they didn't give a shit about anything. Tim wasn't like them; sure, he didn't care if some homeless junkie fell under Animal's knife-they were going to die anyway from alcoholism or AIDS or pneumonia, right? But that last job had affected Tim in ways he never thought it would. At first he'd been okay with it; it had been simple. Find this Lisa Miller bitch, separate her from hubby, and get her to the cabin and have her all nice and pretty for Al and Animal. No problem. But then Debbie Martinez had come along and spoiled things, and then Lisa had manipulated them by dangling that homeless chick and the baby in front of them. The way Animal's eyes had lit up at the mention of the baby, the way Al had nonchalantly agreed… it had bothered Tim in a way none of the snuff jobs had bothered him before. And Rick… well, that bastard would have his own children slaughtered for money. Tim knew the douche bag forced his son into some of the child pornography he churned out. Shit, the fucker had tied the kid down and had him sodomized by a Doberman for a bestiality film. Kid was ten years old and was a fucking loony now because of all the shit he'd been through. The woman Rick had him with had been a crack head and was probably dead, and Rick's current girlfriend, who normally took care of the kid during the day, didn't give a shit about him. She spent most of her time drinking in bars and fucking anything with a dick. Tim wouldn't be surprised in a few years if Rick used the kid in a snuff film after the poor little bastard started spiraling into drugs and alcohol. It would be just like him.

  That's why it was getting to him. Previously, Tim Murray hadn't given a shit about the people they'd used. The difference was that they'd been adults; well, most of them had been. Those who hadn't had been confused, scared, fucked-up runaways who were on their way down. That's why Tim always chose them-they were going to die anyway or wind up as some dirty, shit-smelling, pee-stainedclothes-wearing, rotten-teeth, motherfucking hom~!Iess sad excuse for a human being that you always saw nowadays cluttering up big cities. Who the fuck needed them? He'd never felt bad about using people like that, procuring the dregs of society for the torture and snuff films he, Al, and Rick produced.

  But this last one… a fucking baby! That was just too much. The homeless chick they'd picked up… yeah, he could see that, although as time had gone by he had come to disagree with it. Tim Murray had done some thinking about what had gone down the past two weeks, and if he'd had to do it over again he would have shut that Lisa Miller bitch up with a good blow to the head, then waited till she woke up and let Animal have her. He wouldn't have let her whine and plead the way she had, wouldn't have let her manipulate them into turning Al and Animal's attentions on the homeless chick and her kid. That homeless chick wasn't like the others he'd gotten.

  Homelessness was just a temporary displacement for her; he could tell the way she'd fought them in the van on the drive to the mountains, the way she'd been dressed when they'd picked her up, the way she'd pleaded for them not to hurt her baby. She wasn't a fuckup, her mind wasn't blasted by drugs. She'd been coherent, sane, and totally aware of what was going on.

  And the only thing she'd been worried about was her baby. The look on her face as she'd cried and pleaded with them not to hurt her daughter… it had brought that long-buried memory of what his father had done to Binky rushing to the surface, and he knew that he was dealing with people who were so ruthless, so brutal and cold, that even the death of a baby wasn't enough to satiate them.

  "I've decided to use somebody else in getting Ms. Miller and her husband," Rick mused, breaking Tim's thoughts.

  "Oh?" He looked up, feigning normalcy. This was new to Tim. He had been gearing himself up for staking the Miller place out with Animal and making a move within the next few days. Ever since Rick had begun talking to him about finishing the job, Tim had been mentally preparing himself for it to be his last.

  "Lisa will recognize you if she sees you," Rick Shectman said, glancing at Tim. "Even though you've shaved and cut your hair and everything, she'll recognize you. If anything went wrong and she got away, that would be the end of it. I can't afford to have you caught."

  "I understand," Tim said. He felt a little let down about the decision. He was actually looking forward to getting back at Lisa for escaping and putting him through this shit. If she hadn't manipulated them like this, that homeless chick and the baby would still be alive and Tim wouldn't be contemplating a move that might get him killed. Then again, if this hadn't happened, Tim wouldn't have seen Rick and Al for what they were: rustless motherfucking scum who didn't give a shit about life. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "You're certain Lisa saw Animal?" Rick asked.

  Tim nodded. "Yeah. He wasn't wearing his mask the afternoon we, went there to make the film. They even talked a little bit." He laughed. "Bitch wanted to know what he got out of torturing people. Lake she wanted to fucking understand how a guy like Animal works."

  "Do you understand how Jeffrey works, Mr. Murray?" Rick Shectman wasn't smiling.

  Tim's laughter faded. The image from last night and the last job flashed through his brainpan. "No. I'm afraid I don't. I don't understand how a guy gets off by fucking dead people's neck stumps and tearing babies apart with his bare hands."

  Rick raised his eyebrows. "Fucking dead people's neck stumps? You don't say."

  "Yeah" Licking his lips, Tim told Rick a simplified version of what Animal had done before Al's corpse was turned into sheet metal. Talking about it seemed to lessen the grotesque nature of it.

  "Well, what do you know," Rick said, leaning back in his chair and stroking his chin. "I had no idea Jeffrey was a necrophile as well as a sadist. I've got a client who's been bugging me about getting him some necro stuff. Animal might come in handy with that, don't you think?"

  "You better believe it" What was the world coming to? First snuff films, now necrophilia videos? What was next? Cannibalism films?

  The image of Jeff tearing a chunk of that infant's flesh from its body and stuffing it into his mouth, chewing it as he tore it apart in front of the camera, came to mind and he shook his head. Fuck yeah, cannibalism films were next. That was a no-brainer. Shit, no wonder he had to get out of this business. It was getting sicker and sicker. It wasn't enough to have some gimp like Animal torture and slice up some homeless junkie for some faceless pervert. Now they were getting into using people who would be missed and babies, and Rick was seriously considering having Animal perform cannibalism. Fuck!

  "You know as well as I do, Tim, that I don't give a fuck what my customers are into." Rick leaned forward, his pale features bored. "People are into all kinds of weird shit… fucking little kids, letting chimpanzee's fuck 'em in the ass, watching coke whores in high heels stomp on mice and kittens, watching people getting off on being tortured and shit… eating shit and drinking piss… sticking their heads up horses' asses and eating the shit while they jack off, watching somebody get cut up, getting off on somebody getting murdered by somebody like Animal. I'm not into the shit myself, but what the fuck do I care if some rich pervert wants to get off on this cr
ap? Know what I mean? Long as they're discreet and have the money, I'm willing to… help them out. Know what I mean?"

  Tim nodded. He'd been in the illegal pornography industry long enough to know that the core audience of this stuff paid a lot of money to obtain it. Show me a man or a woman who works hard at wearing a veneer of respectability and I'll show you somebody with a dirty secret.

  "As much as I would trust you and Animal to do the job right in securing our loyal subject again," Rick said, leaning back in his chair, "I'm afraid I can't risk it. She's seen both of you. I do want you to be a part of the production of the film, though. In fact, the client has specifically requested Animal to be the… ah, how shall I say it? The method of execution?" Rick grinned.

  "So we're going through with it, then? This guy really wants to see this particular bitch get done?"

  "You bet he does."

  "Fuck!" Tim couldn't believe it. What kind of sick fuck wasn't satisfied with two good-looking bitches getting done? Hell they'd delivered not one, but two snuff films with some pretty hot-looking chicks getting the shit fucked out of them by Animal, and that still wasn't enough. "What, this guy's got money falling out of his asshole or something?"

  "Consider it picking up where we left off," Rick said, his features cold, predatory.

  "Huh?"

  "We fucked up the first time. We're going to deliver the second time."

  Tim Murray looked at Rick, feeling his skin grow hot from the implications. What Rick was insinuating was that there was no additional money involved, that he and Animal were to do a job for free. "We're doin' this for free?"

  "It's not for free."

  "Bullshit it ain't!"

  Rick flinched at the sound of Tim's voice, and Tim felt his stomach roll in his belly. He could tell by the look in Rick's eyes that he had pushed his limit. "Just shut up and listen. We're doing her, and we're doing this my way. I don't need to explain to you why we have to, but-"

  "This motherfucker's got us by the balls, doesn't he?" Tim asked, trying to connect with something that would appeal to Rick's basic instinct. "We didn't deliver the bitch he wanted, and now he has us. He's trying to blackmail us, right?"

  "Blackmail's the least of our problems right now," Rick said, leaning forwatd, jabbing a finger at rim. "It's personal, rim. The bitch got the best of you and she fucked me. I want her. I want to see her sflffer. My client is rightly pissed, and he's scared shitless. If the bitch tells the cops and they start chasing down trails and even get one whiff of who I am, the whole fucking operation falls apart. You got me? It's not only about covering our asses, it's about getting the bitch who fucked us and making sure we shut, her fucking trap"

  In that case," Tim said, feeling the tension ease. "We'll be ready whenever you are."

  "This has to be done right," Rick said, drumming his well-manicured fingers on the desktop. "Let me speak to my contact. I'll call you tomorrow. What I'll probably do is arrange to have Lisa abducted. That's already in the works, and I'll need you to assist."

  "Is there any news on the Golgotha cabin?"

  Rick shook his head. "It's off-limits after Al fucked up."

  'Ibat's what I thought."

  "I'll have a plan ready by tomorrow. I'll phone you tomorrow morning with details and hopefully a new location. I'll also have all the equipment you'll need for shooting. I should have Lisa in twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

  "What about the husband?"

  "What about him?"

  "What if he causes trouble?"

  Rick shrugged. "He'll be dealt with." "

  "Oh" Tim knew not to question him further. Rick was probably going to hire one of his goons to snatch Lisa in a stealth move. There was no doubt that she was being not only extra cautious, she was probably too scared to leave her home. Rick was pretty good at employing guys that could snatch anybody-businesspeople who had cheated him, lawyers that had not gone to bat for him the way they said they would, suppliers that skimmed from the top. Rick had a way of getting to people who were cautious and always looking for danger. Whatever it was Rick did, it worked every time.

  "Don't worry, Tim," Rick assured him, grinning as he leaned back behind his desk. "It'll work out fine. I've got tabs on the Millers. I'll make a few phone calls and pool!" He waved his hands like a magician. "She'll cease to exist. Next thing you know, she'll be before your very eyes screaming for mercy as you capture her final moments on film."

  Tim smiled as he rose to his feet. "I'll be waiting for your call, then "Then he went home and prepared for the upcoming shoot.

  Twenty-four

  Brad Miller woke up late the following morning. He knew he was sleeping in, but he allowed himself the luxury. After all, Lisa was sleeping soundly beside him and they were in a plush hotel room, twenty floors above a sprawling casino in the Luxor in Las Vegas.

  Brad lay in bed, his mind tracing the events of last night. Lisa and Billy had returned late last night before nine-thirty. Brad had thrown the suitcase he had packed into Billy's car and the lawyer had driven them to John Wayne Airport, explaining to him what had happened in Big Bear. "We should have a search warrant by tomorrow morning," he'd told Brad. "Big Bear PD. and the FBI will be searching that cabin. Golgotha Multimedia has threatened to file an injunction to prevent the search from happening, but I don't foresee that happening."

  The police had informed Golgotha of the intent to search based on the testimony of the victim of a kidnapping and attempted murder who alleged she had been held at the cabin and that she'd witnessed a second attempted murder there. She also hinted at the possibility that two homicides had been committed at the residence. A lawyer representing Golgotha had politely informed Big Bear that they would petition a higher circuit judge to circumvent a search warrant being issued. Meanwhile, the FBI had been contacted and was working with them on the case. Lisa had been driven to the Golgotha cabin, and despite being unable to identify the cabin by sight, she thought she could identify it as the place she'd been held captive. "She said she remembered a dip in the driveway," William had explained as they drove to the airport. "There's a noticeable pothole in the driveway. Plus we poked around and saw evidence that the windows to one of the rooms on the south side had been boarded up. There were fresh nail holes in the shutters consistent with this."

  They had tried peering through the windows but had been unable to catch much of a glimpse of anything; the curtains had been drawn over all the windows. There were also spatters of fresh paint dotting the porch, indicating that the place had been fixed up rather hurriedly within the past two weeks. Sheriff Sweigert had tried the front door, but it had been locked. "There wasn't a damn thing we could do without a proper warrant," Billy had said wearily, shaking his head. "We sat there and waited for word to come down, and an hour later it did in the form of a phone call and the arrival of a representative from Golgotha, who ordered us off the property" William had glanced at Brad as he drove. "The search warrant was suspended by a higher-court circuit judge, and the appeal is being heard tomorrow"

  After dropping them off at the airport, William had told him whom they would meet in Vegas. "His name is John and he used to be a professional wrestler. He's worked security for a bunch of people. You'll like him. He's already got you set up. And don't worry about the money. We'll have you temporarily set up at the Luxor until John can find some other digs for you in another part of the city."

  The Luxor?"

  "Yeah." William had grinned. "Hey, it's the best I could do under short notice. It was either that or some fleabag piece-of-shit hotel off the strip where there's no security. John's hooked up with the security at the Luxor, and he's gonna have them keeping an eye on things. Thist me." He'd clapped Brad on the shoulder. "You'll be under not only tight protection, but well-armed, twenty-four-hour protection. Know what I mean?"

  The flight had been short. Lisa had dozed, and when they arrived in Las Vegas he had helped her out of her seat and escorted her down the walkway. Their contact, John Panoz
zo, was waiting for them. He'd recognized Brad, nodded, then approached them casually. "Got a car waiting outside," he'd said. John was in his mid-forties, with an olive complexion, long black hair, and a black goatee. He was about six feet tall, probably tipped the scales at two-fifty, and his fingers bore silver rings with skulls and bats on them.

  John didn't talk much on the drive to the Luxor, but then Brad and Lisa hadn't been in the mood for conversation. John drove them to the strip in a Ford Explorer. When they reached the massive hotel and casino, he led them past the lobby to the elevators. Lisa temporarily snapped out of her dazed expression and looked around at the dazzling lights and explosions of activity at the casino. "Got you a room in the pyramid itself," John said as he ushered them into an elevator. "You're registered under the names of Brian and Katherine Hopkins. You're in room twenty-seven twenty-seven. Everything's all taken care of. If you want to leave your room and walk around the casino, press this button and dial star nine eight" He'd handed Brad a cellular phone." hat will get you directly to me or a member of my staff. We won't be hanging all over you, but we will be watching you quietly in the background. I'd suggest that you lay low the first day you're here, though, just to play it safe and until I hear from Billy."

  They'd crashed almost immediately upon arriving at the hotel. Brad had made a quick call to his parents to tell them where they were, and had spoken to his father. "We're at the Luxor," he'd said, quickly giving him the room number. "Billy's got us hooked up here and we're safe. He's got a bodyguard looking after us, and I don't know how long we'll be here" Naturally, his father was worried, and his mother had come on the line and begun asking him a lot of questions. "I can't talk too much about it right now," he'd said. "Look, I'll try to call you tomorrow, okay?" Then he'd placed a call to Lisa's parents and given them the same brief message, giving them the same information on where they were staying before hanging up and going to bed for a mostly sleepless night.