The Light In the Dark

by Craig A. Smith

  “You guys take care,” Ed says as he exits the room. Flanigan sits next to Tyrone’s bed and looks up at the television. Tyrone turns up the volume and loud rap fills the room.

  “What in the hell are you watching?” Jim asks as he sees a woman on a stripper pole shaking her ass.

  “I’m watching a music video man,” Tyrone says.

  “You call that music?” Flanigan asks. “Can you please turn it down?”

  “Sure,” Tyrone says as he picks up the remote and lowers the volume. “So,” Tyrone says, “what are you doing here?”

  “My office got a call from the folks here telling me that you had information on the location of the boys,” Jim says.

  “No,” Tyrone says, “I told a cop last night that the last time that I saw them was in the woods, but I didn’t know where they were,” Tyrone says.

  “So where was this spot in the woods?” Jim asks, while pulling a map out of his briefcase.

  “I can’t read that thing man,” Tyrone says. Jim points to the location of the hospital.

  “Here is where we are now,” Jim says, “do you notice anything on the map that might let me know what part of the woods they might be in.”

  Tyrone closely looks at the map, “right there,” he says looking at the county line.”

  “The county line,” Flanigan confirms.

  “Yeah man,” Tyrone says, “we went over a bridge and there was a camping area.”

  “Thank you Tyrone,” Flanigan says as he rolls the map up and puts it back in his briefcase.

  “You’re welcome,” Tyrone says, “oh, and they are driving a Camaro.

  “I knew it,” Jim says, “was it an early eighties model?”

  “I don’t know,” Tyrone says, “it was old though. If you catch em’, don’t be telling them that it was me that told you where they was hiding.”

  “I won’t,” Jim says as he races out the door. He gets into the elevator and stands impatiently as the doors slowly close. What takes only a minute seems like an eternity as he finally makes it down to the first floor. He jogs to his cruiser and takes off in the parking lot like a bat out of hell. He turns his siren on as he navigates through traffic. He drives over the bridge and turns off of the road. He notices fresh tire tracks and his heart begins to pound, stopping at the end of the road and arriving at the campsite. He gets out of the car and notices several beer cans and bottles of alcohol throughout the camp. He slowly looks around, trying to find evidence of the boy’s whereabouts. He sees a pair of crushed glasses and picks them up. He examines the small frames and walks over to his car. He pulls out his case file and looks at a picture of Kris and identifies them as being similar. He notices that the only exit other than the road is a trail. He jogs down the trail, gasping for air. He reaches the end exasperated, only to find a beautiful cove. He turns around and walks back to his cruiser.

  “All of this was for nothing,” he thinks as he keeps walking. “I could have been home enjoying a beer and watching a baseball game with my family, but here I am out here in this damned heat for no good reason.” He keeps walking until he gets back to his cruiser. He gets into the cruiser and turns the air on, he tries to turn the game back on, but it has ended some time ago and country music is now playing on the station. He turns the stereo off and sits there, knowing that he should have just stayed home. But he can’t go home, not now… especially after the way he left. It has been too soon and a part of him still thinks that he did the right thing by coming out here.

  “I’ll just swing by this last place and go get something to eat and head back to the office,” Jim thinks, “no way am I going home right now. Yeah, that makes sense. I’ll hit up the last name on that list. That will buy me some time before I get home, Joan will have had enough time to cool off, or she will just be asleep so I won’t have to deal with her or her parents. That’s what I’ll do.”

  Chapter 24

  Jim arrives at the house of David Wayne Bell and pulls into the driveway. He gets out of the car and uses the file in his hand to sway the billowing gravel dust out of his eyes. David answers the door with a smile.

  “Good evening sir,” David says with a vacant suburbanite grin, “can I help you?”

  “Good evening,” Flanigan kindly responds with a corresponding smile and a flash of his badge, “My name is Jim Flanigan with the Pine County Sheriff’s Department and I was wondering if you have heard from your son recently.”

  “No sir,” David responds, “I really haven’t spoken to him or his mother since he was small.”

  “Okay,” Flanigan responds, “if you do see him, here is my card, please give me a call.”

  “What is going on?” David asks.

  “He escaped from a psychiatric facility recently with a group of friends and did some things that he shouldn’t have done. We are just checking in with family members to make sure that none of the kids have contacted them.

  “Is he in trouble?” David asks.

  “I can’t say that he isn’t,” Flanigan responds.

  “Well, I will let you know if he calls or drops by or something,” David says.

  “I’d appreciate that sir,” Flanigan says as he begins to walk off. David shuts the door and Flanigan begins walking towards his car. He drops his keys and when he looks back up; he sees the silhouette of David sprinting towards the back of the house, which briefly gives him pause. He slowly walks to the window to peek in to see if any suspicious activity is going on. He peeks into the living room and sees something that shocks him; a decade-old image of him doing a Butcher newscast paused on David’s television screen.

  “What in the hell is going on here?” Flanigan whispers to himself as he slowly pulls his weapon from his holster, “this cannot be him, what are the odds?” he nervously whispers as he makes his way back to the front door. He beats on the door, but there is no response. He did notice that David was heading towards the back of his house, but he noticed a tall privacy fence when he drove up and the only way to the back of the house was through the front. He walks to the side of the house and sees a vehicle covered with a tarp. He lifts the tarp to find a Camaro matching the description of the one that was stolen from the car lot. He returns to the door, knocking a few more times and decides that he has probable cause to enter the premises, so he leans back and kicks in the door. He creeps through the house, gun drawn and checking every corner until he notices the kitchen door.

  “This has to be it,” Flanigan says as he examines the double-bolted door. “Who in the hell is this guy?” he asks himself, “I hope I don’t find what I think I am about to find”. He leans back and repeatedly kicks the door until it finally flies open. He slowly makes his way down the stairwell, gun drawn. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Angie bound to the bed. He looks at the placement of her ligatures and immediately he knows what he has just found.

  “Oh my God,” he says as he runs to the bed and begins to untie Angie. She wails as he removes the cloth from her mouth.

  “I want my daddy!” she cries as he wraps a blanket around her and embraces her trembling body.

  “Shh… I know sweetie… I know,” he whispers as he caresses her hair. “You need to be quiet… you’re safe now honey,” he says as he looks at the blood-stained concrete beneath them.” He begins to break up, holding back his tears. “You’ll be home soon,” he says as he looks around the room, knowing the results of the hideous acts that must’ve taken place here. “It’s finally over,” he whispers, holding his service pistol in his free hand in case David comes wandering down the stairs.

  He quickly glances around as he holds her, the room is much different than he had imagined all of these years. It isn’t the devilish lair that he expected. It could be his basement… the normalcy of it disturbs him. He notices faded blood spatter on the ceiling and imagines all of the horror that has taken place in this seemingly normal basement over the years.

  “There was a boy,” Angie says, interrupting Flanigan’s concentrat
ion.

  “What?” Flanigan says leaning her back so that he can see her face.

  “There was a boy down here today and he tried to save me I think,” she says in a confused state.

  “A boy?” Flanigan says.

  “Yeah,” she says. “He just dragged him up the stairs not too long ago.” Flanigan immediately jumps up off of the bed and makes his way back upstairs.

  “PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” the girl cries out.

  “You need to be quiet, I have to check to see if he is still here,” Flanigan says, “I promise you I will be back and I will call this in, you will be safe.” He pulls his radio off of his belt and calls the situation in.

  “415 to dispatch,” he says into the radio.

  “Go ahead 415,” the dispatcher responds.

  “I am going to need backup and a couple of ambulances to 113 Lake Trail Dr,” Flanigan says.

  “Paramedics and support are in route,” the dispatcher says as Flanigan slowly walks up the stairs.

  In the backyard, Drake wakes up to the sound of bottle rockets exploding in the sky above him. He opens his eyes and can’t see anything. He turns his head to find that his face is buried in the sand. He attempts to look up, but water from the lake splashes up and hits him in the face; blinding him while filling his mouth with water. He looks up again, coughing. To his left he notices Kris, Hiram and Becca lined up next to him. He looks up and sees his father on the back of the boat. Everything is hazy and confusing to him. He watches the boat as his father jumps off the back and onto the dock. Kris wakes up and starts coughing. Hiram and Becca are still passed out. Drake attempts to speak, but it is more of a mumble, as he has a splitting headache and has just woke up.

  “Dad, why are you doing this?” Drake mumbles. David turns around, it is the first time he has ever heard his son call him dad, but he is still unaffected. Drake looks up to see fireworks exploding in the sky, their brilliant colors reflecting off of the water in front of him. “What are you doing?” he mumbles. David does not respond, he just hops back onto the boat and reemerges with a pack of large garbage bags, laying two next to each of the kids. “Why are you doing this Dad? I’m your son; you are supposed to love me.” David stops.

  “If you weren’t my son, I wouldn’t make this so quick and easy on you all,” David says, “but it must be done. Believe me when I say that this isn’t for pleasure.” He walks back onto the boat and returns with several large chains, which he places at the feet of the children. Kris begins to wake up, he looks over at Drake.

  “Drake,” he mutters.

  “Yeah,” Drake mumbles.

  “I can’t feel my legs,” Kris says.

  “I can’t feel anything either,” Drake says. Kris looks to his left and sees Hiram and Becca. The booming sounds from the fireworks in the sky increase in frequency. He looks back over at Drake, teary-eyed.

  “We’re going to die tonight aren’t we?” he mutters. Drake tries to think of a way to comfort him, but cannot.

  “I think so,” Drake says. Kris mashes his face in the sand and begins sobbing. David returns from the boat brandishing a pistol equipped with a silencer.

  “Dad,” Drake mutters. There is no response from David as he calmly walks behind Becca at the end of the line and puts the silencer of the gun to the back of her head. He looks to the sky and waits for a bottle rocket to shoot into it. When a large bottle rocket explodes he fires a shot into the head of the unconscious Becca. Kris tries to scream loudly, but his voice is hoarse.

  David calmly walks over to the next person in line, which happens to be Hiram. Kris begins shaking; Drake digs his head in the mixture of sand and grass and does not move. David puts the muzzle of the gun to Hiram’s head and waits.

  “Please God…” Kris prays, “I’ll do anything, I promise…” A bottle rocket shoots into the horizon and David fires a shot into Hiram’s head. He moves over to Kris, who has now completely broken down.

  “Please God, please God no, save me, I am so sorry, please God,” he prays as David looks up and waits for the next bottle rocket to explode, one makes it’s way into the night’s sky. Another shot is fired and David looks down and touches his shirt. He curiously lifts his blood soaked hand and watches the blood drip from the tips of his fingers. He looks down and realizes that a bullet has just gone through his side. He turns around to find Jim Flanigan with a gun pointed at him.

  “This one is pointed at your chest,” he yells at David with a loud, commanding authoritative tone. “Now turn around slowly and drop the weapon or I will fire.” David turns around, smiling.

  “Well I’ll be…” David says smiling, “did you finally figure it out old boy?”

  Flanigan slowly walks closer and David points his weapon at Flanigan, causing Flanigan to fire a round through his chest, dropping him to the ground with a resounding thud. David, barely alive, throws his weapon to the side, laughing at the irony of it all. Flanigan jogs down to David and places handcuffs on him.

  “Flanigan,” David says laughing, “what took you so long?” Jim ignores him as he runs to check on the kids. He rolls Becca over and can immediately tell from the damage she had sustained that she is gone. He rolls Hiram over to find the same result.

  “Oh my God,” Flanigan says, “don’t tell me he got all of them.” He moves on to Kris, who is still trembling. “Thank God,” he says as he rolls him over and sees that he is okay. He rolls him back over and unties him. Kris goes into the fetal position and begins hyperventilating and crying. He moves on to Drake and unties him as well. Drake slowly rolls over and lights a cigarette with a relieved, but disturbed look on his face. Flanigan leans down to talk to Kris, who is deeply disturbed.

  “You are going to be okay son,” Flanigan says, “that man is not gong to do anything more to you.”

  Kris looks up at the detective, still huffing and trying to catch his breath. “The girl inside the house,” Kris mumbles.

  “I got her,” Flanigan says, looking down at Kris as he folds back into the fetal position. He turns his attention to Drake, “You must be Drake… I am so sorry son.”

  “Flanigan,” David quietly yells, quickly losing the strength to continue speaking. “I never thought I’d see the day when I met you face to face.”

  Jim reads him his Miranda rights while David begins a mixture of coughing and choking. When he is finished he stands over him and lights a cigarette. “Well, to be completely honest,” Jim says, “I was beginning to wonder if that would ever happen myself.”

  “You got me good,” David hisses, “I’m in pain.”

  “Welcome to my world,” Jim says with a flat affect, “an ambulance is on the way. While we are here though why don’t you tell me if there are anymore bodies out there in case you don’t make it?”

  “Why did you come back?” David asks.

  “I dropped my keys and saw a ghost through the window on your television screen,” Jim answers.

  “Fuck,” David says as he slowly rolls his eyes, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “Of all the things, that’s the one mistake I make,” his throat looks as if he is swallowing something too large for it to go down smoothly.

  “So you had no idea who I was when you came to my house tonight?” David asks, visibly bothered by the possibility.

  “None,” Flanigan says, smiling because he knows just how much this is bothering David at the moment.

  “You had nothing on me then?” David asks.

  “Absolutely nothing,” Flanigan says.

  “What are you going to do when I am gone?” David quips, “Retirement won’t sit right with you will it Flanigan? You’ll probably sit at your house playing solitaire all night just wondering what to do with yourself? If I am in prison or I die tonight, a major part of you will be gone with me.”

  “You are mistaken, I couldn’t give a damn about you,” Flanigan says, “From the looks of it, you seem to be the one that’s fixated on me.”

  “I show the videos to all of the
m… I want them to see what they were becoming a part of,” David says, “I wanted to show them that they were dying for something bigger.”

  Flanigan stares at David, not giving him the satisfaction of holding his attention.

  “Don’t you want to know why I did the things I did to those women?” David asks.

  “I could care less,” Flanigan says.

  “Then why did you ask if there were any more victims?” David asks.

  “You know why,” Flanigan says, “I already explained that to you. And I know that you are going to take it to the grave unless you can get something out of it later, so I won’t waste my breath asking you the question again.”

  “Bullshit,” David says, turning his head to spit out blood, “you are a damned liar. I know that you wanted to know. I saw it in your eyes.”

  “You are right David,” Flanigan coolly says as he squats down next to him, “I did want to know at one time why you committed the murders. But believe me, now I am completely over it.”

  “Well, I’m going to tell you anyways,” David says, “You see my mother, she was a prostitute…”

  “Shut up you piece of shit,” Flanigan growls, “I don’t give a damn what you are about to say! Bottom line is that you are an angry, conniving, manipulative weak-willed little man who took out his inadequacies on those you could overpower in the most thoughtless and spineless manner possible. You didn’t even give them a chance to fight back you fucking coward, so you can save any rationalizations you might have for someone stupid enough to give a shit about them.”

  “And you think that you are so damned smart Flanigan,” David says, “I had you running around chasing my ass for years and you never even caught my scent you dog. If you were smarter, maybe all of those women could have been saved. And if I hadn’t fallen in your lap there would have been plenty more. By the way Flanigan, how does it feel knowing that the only way you could catch me was by sheer luck?” David begins laughing as he looks at Flanigan as if he were not even worthy enough to be in his presence.

  “Well, if that’s what you wanna call it, I’m fine with that,” Flanigan says.