by Athan,Jon
Lucas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, curious. He said, “That doesn't sound like enough to make a young girl run away. What really happened, sweetheart?”
Lori inhaled deeply and shut her eyes, trying to keep her composure. She wasn't angry at Lucas or Dean. She was simply saddened by the truth. She needed a second to collect herself before marching forward. The truth could set the soul free, but it was difficult to admit.
Lori said, “My dad got drunk one night and he... he hit me. He didn't just push me, he didn't slap me. No, he punched me right in the stomach. He just... He just punched me. It wasn't the first time he put his hands on me, either. I love my family, but I couldn't stay there any longer. I couldn't do that to myself.”
Dean glanced down at Lori. She was dejected by her confession. Hearing the words come out of her mouth made her depressed. The young man turned his attention to Lucas. The killer didn't have a crack on his face – not a smile or a squint – but Dean could see the deviance in his eyes. He was planning something.
Dean said, “Let's... Let's talk about something else.”
Without taking his eyes off of Lori, Lucas said, “Sure, sure.”
Dean glanced around the room and asked, “This place has gone to shit, hasn't it?”
Lori stared up at her former classmate and asked, “What do you mean?”
“The city has gone to shit. It's changed. Every city has a bad side of town, a rotten core, but this entire city is shit. It's all rotten. It wasn't like this when we were younger. Some of it was bad, but there was some good around. People used to care about their lawns, now they shit on them. It's insane.”
“What's your point, boy?” Lucas asked with a furrowed brow.
“I don't want it to be like that. No, I want to have some integrity. I want this city to have integrity. I want us to have some damn respect for ourselves and for each other. That's all.”
Lucas gazed into the young man's eyes, captivated by his nobility. He couldn't bring himself to admire the man, though. A fake, a fluke, a facade, he thought, all for some whore.
Lucas smirked and said, “That's an interesting goal, son. I'm sure you'll find a way to bring this city back to life. I'm sure you'll find a way to give back to your community. I'm positive...” He turned over and said, “I'm going to sleep. I've got a lot of work to do tomorrow, so please keep it down.”
Lori simpered, then she said, “Okay. Good night, Lucas. And, thank you. Thank you for all of this.”
Lucas waved and said, “Don't mention it.”
With his back to the couple, Lucas faced the vandalized wall and tried to sleep. He could hear the couple across the room, flirting and kissing. The noise was minuscule, like a rat's squeak, but the sound continued to amplify as he thought about it. The sound of lips smacking was unnerving – it mocked him. He tightly shut his eyes and searched for slumber.
Chapter Thirteen
A Lesson in Deviance
Lucas and Dean stood near the corner of a busy intersection, watching as pedestrians scurried across the crosswalks. The couple found themselves in a wealthier part of the city. The surrounding buildings were tall – ten to fifteen stories each – but they still fell victim to graffiti and vandalism. The buildings harbored offices, restaurants, cafes, and small shops.
Dean tapped Lucas' shoulder and whispered, “What are we doing here? Huh? What do you have planned this time?”
Lucas leaned on a lamp post as he examined his surroundings. He watched the oblivious pedestrians and the hot-tempered drivers, he listened to the obnoxious chatter and the blaring horns, and he smelled the clashing scents of baked goods and raw sewage. He didn't bother to answer Dean's questions. He needed a few more minutes to give Dean less time to think.
Dean planted his palm on his head and muttered, “Damn it... Damn it... What the hell did I get myself into? What am I doing here?”
The young man glanced around the street as he searched for a clue. The busy stores on the street-level of the buildings did not seem out of the ordinary. The offices on the higher levels, however, caught his attention. He couldn't help but feel like he was about to embark on a violent robbery or a quest for revenge. A prosecutor with a big mouth, he thought.
Lucas glanced back at Dean and said, “Find out the time.”
Dean stared at Lucas with a look of uncertainty – is he serious? The young man sighed, then he walked away. While Dean pestered every pedestrian walking his way, Lucas stared up at the overcast sky – a gray canvas without a single speck of blue. The sky reflected his imminent actions – grim. He sniffled as he glanced over his shoulder.
Dean said, “It's 2:30. What are we doing? Huh? Tell me something, Lucas. Talk to me.”
Lucas nodded towards an alleyway to their left. He said, “Let's go over to this alley. We'll have a better view and we can talk in private.”
As Lucas walked ahead, Dean whispered, “A better view of what?”
Lucas leaned on a brick wall in the alley, a few meters away from the sidewalk. He stared at a structure across the street, diagonal from his location – an elementary school. He figured he had fifteen to thirty minutes before the bell rang and the kids scampered away. In turn, he had less than fifteen minutes to convince Dean of his devious plot.
As Dean leaned on the wall beside him, Lucas said, “I want you to listen to me. Don't scream, don't pace, don't start a scene. You understand me?”
Dean asked, “What are we doing here?”
“Do you understand me?”
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He said, “I understand. Now, talk to me.”
Lucas nodded at the school, showing his apprentice the target of the day. He wasn't going to point and draw attention to himself. He knew how to blend with the crowds. His plan was crafted throughout his lifetime, too. He refused to fumble.
In a soft tone, Lucas said, “Listen carefully. We're going to move closer to the school before the final bell rings. It should ring at 2:45, maybe three o'clock. It doesn't matter. We're going to be there when it rings.”
Dean asked, “What for?”
“We're going to bait a boy.”
Caught off guard, Dean staggered away from Lucas. He scowled at his mentor, infuriated by the suggestion. He had witnessed the man's savagery in several forms – from murder to rape – but he did not expect him to stoop to such a sinister level. Children were always off-limits.
Dean stuttered, “I–I'm not...”
Lucas held his index finger to his face – shh. He said, “We're going to bait a child. Since we don't have a car, we can't strong-arm him. So, we're going to use some of my special 'sugar' to lure him to the bridge down south. We'll knock him out, tie him up, then take him back to our place at night. It's that simple.”
Dean nervously glanced around, befuddled. His addled brain would not allow him to think clearly. His eyelids flickered, his bottom lip quivered, and his limbs trembled. Lucas scoffed at his behavior, shaking his head in disappointment. The young man was on the verge of making a scene.
Dean stuttered, “Wha–What are you... What are you going to do with him? What are you trying to prove, Lucas?”
Lucas smiled and said, “I'm teaching you another lesson in finances.”
“Finances? No, no. This is... This is sick. This is a lesson in deviance.”
“No. This isn't about deviance or personal issues. It's not about that bullshit. It's about money. That's all.”
“What? Are you going to hold him ransom? That won't end well for us, man. We're not professionals. We'll get caught.”
“It won't be a ransom. We're going to sell the boy. We're going to sell him as a 'white slave.' A sex slave. There's big money in the business, son. With one boy, only one, we'll make enough to be set for two, maybe three months. We sell six and we'll be set for a year.”
Dean grimaced in disgust and said, “You're fucking sick... You want to sell him as a goddamn sex slave? Are you kidding me?”
“Keep y
our voice down,” Lucas said as he wagged his index finger at the young man. “Let's get a few things straight here, okay? First of all, you agreed to help me on a project. Are you a man of your word or are you a coward? Huh? You think about that for a second, Mr. Integrity. Secondly, this world is already sexualized. I watched TV in the pen, I know sex is glorified. Kids know all about sex at this age. Shit, I bet most of these pricks aren't even virgins. It's the way it is.”
Dean shut his eyes and leaned on the wall. Lucas' vulgar justification made him nauseous. He held his hand to his mouth and tilted his head towards the gray sky, fighting the urge to vomit. He was not built like his mentor. He was a curious person, he was willing to listen and experiment, but he had limits.
Lucas said, “Besides, if a kid is stupid enough to fall for it, only his idiotic parents are to blame. They should have taught him better, they should have been there for him. He should have been taught how to survive. Now, in order for us to survive, we must use him.”
Teary-eyed, Dean said, “I can't do it...”
“You have to. You owe it to me and you owe it to yourself. Think about it, Dean. You make some money off of some stupid kids, you teach their parents a lesson, and... and you can start thinking about your future. Don't you want to live with Lori someday? Huh? Don't you want to take her away from her abusive family? You want something better than this, don't you? Well, this is the first step.”
Dean sniffled as he slowly turned towards Lucas. He gazed into his mentor's eyes, trying to decipher his intentions – but to no avail. On the surface, the killer seemed genuine. At heart, Dean believed the man was using Lori as leverage. Yet, he found himself incapable of refusing. Indeed, he wanted to share his life with Lori. He couldn't miss his chance – not again.
A tear streaming down his cheek, Dean reluctantly nodded in agreement.
Lucas grinned as he patted his shoulder. He said, “Good. Come on, they should be getting out soon.”
***
Lucas and Dean raced across the street, waving at the speeding cars. The drivers shook their fists, waved their middle fingers, and cursed at the careless pair. A few cars slowed down while others swerved to dodge. Fortunately, there were no car accidents and all of the angry drivers remained in their seats. Road-rage was successfully averted.
Rule number one in abducting a child: don't cause a scene.
As the pair strolled down the sidewalk, Lucas said, “Try not to draw attention to yourself. Follow my lead, okay? You're a bit more charming than me, I admit it, so you may need to save me if they think I'm a little creepy. You understand? But, don't interfere if you don't have to. Think before you act.”
Dean thought about giving the same advice to Lucas – think before you act – but he knew the man would just ignore it. The killer was selfish, spending more time thinking about himself than an egotistical rapper married to a reality (porn) star with butt implants. The young man decided to bite his tongue and tuck his tail.
Lucas stopped at an alley beside the school – the perfect vantage point. From the alley, the pair could see the foyer of the outdoor elementary school. A few parents stood in front of the school, waiting for their children to run into their arms. Most of the parents waited in their cars, though. They couldn't be bothered to stand and wait.
The bell rang, blaring across the campus and echoing through the street. The sound of doors opening and rapid footsteps followed, like a stampede of starved people entering a buffet. Children scurried out of the school entrance. A few kids ran directly into their parents' arms, some stood on their tiptoes and searched for their cars, and others moved in clusters – cliques formed at an early age.
Rule number two in abducting a child: pick the shy kids walking home alone, avoiding parents and friends. They won't be missed.
Lucas carefully inspected each child and said, “Look for a loner, Dean. He'll be stiff and weird, walking with his head down. I know it. Look for him.”
Dean wiped a tear from his eyelid as he glanced at the sky. He said, “Yeah, yeah...”
“The lonely ones are the easiest to snatch. You can manipulate them without trying very hard. You know how to manipulate a child, don't you?” Lucas asked as he glanced back at his partner. Dean did not respond. Lucas said, “It's easy. You just have to make them feel special. You make them feel like they're wanted, like you really care. That's how the priests used to get them when I was growing up. Yeah, they didn't get me, but I knew what they were up to... I knew...”
Rule number three in abducting a child: always make them feel special.
Lucas turned towards the school. The children without available parents or rides were finally approaching the alley. Most of the kids moved in groups, huddled together like penguins searching for warmth. They bickered and bantered, playing with their phones and listening to music.
A child walking by his lonesome approached. The kid, no older than eight years old, had his fingers wrapped around his backpack's straps. He walked with stiff shoulders and his head high. The gentle breeze caressed his feathery blonde hair. He wouldn't be hard to sell on the market.
As the boy approached, Lucas asked, “Hey, son, do you have a minute?” The boy stopped as he nervously stared at the predator. Lucas leaned closer and said, “Don't be scared, kiddo. I'm not going to hurt you. I was just wondering if you could give me a hand. You see, I've got too much sugar and I have to get rid of it. I need a special young man to help me.”
The boy stared at Lucas with a steady expression – not a single crease or twitch on his face. He slowly shook his head as he walked away without uttering a word. The child continued to glance back at the peculiar man, baffled by the confrontation. He knew better than to take candy from a stranger – it was the first rule in avoiding abduction after all.
Lucas clicked his tongue and shook his head in disappointment. Dean couldn't help but smirk, ridiculing his mentor's failure. His intelligence was fabricated, his lessons were a sham. Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you – everyone knew those words meant the opposite. The ex-convict could only blame his age and absence for his lack of skills. He was rusty, he was old-school.
Lucas' eyes widened as a chubby child approached. The boy had scruffy black hair, dull brown eyes, and a frowning face – lonely, sad, vulnerable. He sauntered down the sidewalk, constantly glancing at the other groups of kids, like if he were yearning for an invitation. Unfortunately, he would receive an invitation of the most wicked kind instead.
Lucas glanced at the child's wrist, staring at his plastic watch. He said, “Hey, kid, that's a nice watch you've got there. What time is it?”
The child stopped and glanced at the couple. He glanced down at himself, then back at Lucas. The boy was visibly mystified, pondering the ex-convict's compliment and question. He was a loner in school, so he wasn't used to receiving attention from strangers.
Smiling, the child glanced at his watch and said, “3:05.”
Lucas returned the smile and said, “Thank you, champ. I appreciate it. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Okay,” the child responded with a casual shrug.
Lucas knelt down in front of the kid and asked, “Do you know any toy stores around here?”
“Toy stores?”
“Yeah, a toy store. Since you helped me out, I want to help you. Let me buy you something special. A special boy needs a special toy, right? I was looking to buy a toy for my nephew anyway. I think you deserve something, too.”
Filled with joy, the child stuttered, “Ye–Yeah... There's a store right down there.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes and glanced around, pretending to search. He said, “I don't see it. Why don't you take me over there? I'll even give you some candy for helping. How about that? A toy and some candy for my special buddy.”
Dean stood behind Lucas as he watched the exchange. He was awed by Lucas' ability to adapt. The ex-convict occasionally missed a swing, but he refused to strike out. Yet, Lucas' skill did not concern him
as much as the child's safety. The boy was falling for the ploy – hook, line, and sinker.
As he glanced towards the school, Lucas muttered, “Shit...” He stood and turned towards Dean. He whispered, “We've got company. Follow my lead.”
Dean bit his bottom lip as he spotted the approaching security guard – an off-duty police officer working a second job. The tall and brawny man wore a standard uniform – a navy button-up shirt, navy pants, a utility belt, and black insulated boots. He was not armed, but he was surely strong. A tag clinging to his chest read: Hickman.
Hickman's black hair was boyishly parted to the right and his face was clean-shaved. He didn't appear dangerous on the surface, but he was trained to fight and shoot. He was trained to catch criminals and protect the community. Most of the world saw a hero in blue, Lucas saw a nuisance.
Rule number four in abducting a child: give up before you're caught.
***
As he approached the alley, Hickman glanced at the child and said, “Hey, buddy, school's out. You should be heading home to do your homework.”
The boy smiled and said, “But, I don't have homework today.”
“Well, go home and play some video games. Go on and stay out of trouble. We'll see you tomorrow.”
As the child straggled away, glancing back with inquisitive eyes, Hickman turned his attention to the suspicious couple. Lucas gave a slight nod, tipping his nonexistent hat to the security officer. Dean delivered a nervous smile and a casual shrug, struggling to keep his composure like a politician caught in a lie. The young man was on the verge of cracking, but he wasn't going down without a fight.
Before Lucas could walk away, Hickman asked, “What are you two doing around here?”
Lucas inhaled deeply and shrugged. He said, “We're just hanging around.”
“Hanging around an elementary school?”
“For the moment, yes. Yes, we are hanging around an elementary school. We were... We were going to...”
Lucas glanced back at Dean, hoping to conjure an excuse. He cocked his head back and stared at his peer with hopeful eyes, communicating without speaking – this is where you step in, boy. Dean was reluctant to help. He considered ditching his mentor, but the man had more dirt on him than the entire Middle East.