by Athan,Jon
Dean said, “We stopped to think for a minute. We were thinking about where we were going to eat. That's all.”
Hickman slowly nodded as he stared at the pair with narrowed eyes – he didn't believe their bullshit. He asked, “What were you doing with the boy?”
Lucas responded, “Just asking for the time. It's not illegal as far as I can tell.”
“I suppose it's not illegal, but I believe there are some laws against loitering near an elementary school. So, don't push me. I'm not afraid to push back. Secondly, you do realize I can find out what you asked that boy tomorrow, right? I can even call his parents right now if I felt inclined to. That young man won't lie to me, either. So, I'll ask again: what were you doing with the boy?”
Lucas bit his bottom lip and scowled at the prying officer. He was awed by the man's insolence, baffled by his need for information. The savage killer could not comprehend the concept of community policing. He didn't know why Hickman cared for the children of the neighborhood. Frankly, he didn't care to find out, either.
Lucas shook his head and asked, “What's your problem, man? Huh? Why are you harassing us? We didn't do anything wrong, we didn't break any laws. That's the problem with police these days, they don't understand when they're overstepping. It's the same with correctional officers. You're all a bunch of power-hungry pricks.”
With a raised brow, Hickman repeated, “Correctional officers?” He clicked his tongue and nodded. The officer said, “Now we might have a problem, gentlemen. You wouldn't happen to be a felon, would you, sir?”
Lucas chuckled at the question – of course. He said, “No, no, I'm a criminologist. You probably haven't heard of it, but I research criminals. My favorite criminal is the beat cop with a GED relieving all of his stress on the hard-working American man. Yeah, we see them a lot on the news these days.”
“You've got my attention, sir. Why don't we step into my office? Let's have a little chat. I'm sure my fellow officers would love to hear your theories. What do you say?”
Lucas clenched his jaw as he gazed into the officer's glowing eyes. He couldn't tell if the man was threatening to arrest him or beat him – or both. The ex-convict glanced back at Dean, filled with uncertainty. He could see Dean was equally baffled. The off-duty officer successfully pushed him into a corner – merely thinking about it made Lucas' blood boil.
Lucas turned towards the officer and said, “You know, I would love to sit down in a room with you to have a little chat, but I'm a little busy. I've got a lot to do these days. I've got to–”
Mid-sentence, Lucas kicked Hickman's groin – a sturdy shin to the crotch. As the officer crossed his legs and staggered, Lucas hit him with a powerful uppercut. The officer's teeth clanked and his jaw popped from the powerful punch. As Hickman hit the floor like a falling tree, Lucas grabbed Dean's shoulder and pulled him down the alley.
Dean's options were limited. He wasn't going to stand and wait for the officer to awaken. He followed his mentor's lead, running closely behind Lucas. The couple sprinted out of the other end of the alley and slipped into another alleyway across the street. They continued the pattern, slipping and sliding across a network of grimy alleyways.
Lucas slowed to a jog, then he leaned on a brick wall. He struggled to catch his breath, wheezing and coughing. Dean stopped in front of him. He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward, breathing noisily. From their obnoxious breathing, the pair sounded like they ran a marathon. In reality, the couple were only five blocks away from the school.
Between breaths, Lucas said, “That... That bastard... He ruined everything.” He wiped the sweat from his brow, then he pulled Dean closer to him. As he gazed into Dean's eyes, Lucas said, “I... I want revenge. You understand me? I want... I want you to help me.”
Dean shook his head and said, “I can't... I'm not going to kill an officer.”
“I know. We can't kill any of them or the entire state will be looking for us. But, we can humiliate them.”
Dean furrowed his brow and asked, “You want to embarrass one of them? How?”
As he stared down the alley, Lucas said, “Just follow my lead. I know how to handle this in a way that will please both of us.”
Chapter Fourteen
A Lesson in Vengeance
Lucas walked out of a diner, picking at his teeth with his fingernail. He strolled towards the curb of the sidewalk, then he glanced up at the sky. The luminous moonlight barely pierced the black clouds. A soft drizzle, like a shower in a bathroom with low water pressure, befell the area. The rainfall was soothing.
The ex-convict cleaned himself with the rain, rubbing every nook and cranny on his face. He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the sky. The water streamed across his body, soaking his hair and dribbling down his leather jacket. For a brief moment, the rain whisked him away like never before. He had never felt so euphoric.
Lucas whispered, “A storm is brewing...”
The door chime echoed into the street from the diner. Slothful, Dean trudged out of the eatery. He dragged his feet towards Lucas, trying to buy time. Hours had passed since their botched attempt at abduction and the young man was still not aware of their new plans. Humiliation, he thought, what could he be planning?
As Dean approached, Lucas said, “Come on. Let's head closer to home. It'll be better out there. Less people, less cops.”
As the pair strolled down the sidewalk, Dean asked, “What exactly are we going to do?”
“That man really pissed me off, Dean. He's the perfect example of the type of people I hate: self-righteous assholes. He had the nerve to harass me, insult me, without a shred of evidence. We didn't get a kid, but I'm sure as hell going to get my vengeance.”
Dean held his forearm over his brow as the drizzle slowly metamorphosed into a downpour. He said, “I understand that, but what are we going to do? You said you wanted to humiliate him, right? Well, how are we going to do that?”
Lucas explained, “We're going to bait a cop. We're going to give him a good scare, maybe a punch or two, then we're going to cuff him to his steering wheel and steal his keys. I think that's a pretty decent idea, right? I didn't think you'd have any objections. I like it that way.”
“You make it sound easy. Most of our plans haven't gone the way you've planned, though. Why don't you just let it go? Huh? Let it all go. We don't have to humiliate cops, we don't have to kidnap kids. I'm... I'm 'happy' robbing drug dealers. Really.”
As the pair approached a payphone outside of a gasoline station, Lucas stopped and said, “No. I'm not going to let this go. You're not going to let it go, either. Remember, boy, you owe me. Besides, it won't be such a big deal as long as he doesn't come with a partner or with backup. It'll be simple this time. I promise.” The murderer pointed at the payphone and said, “Since you have better 'people skills,' you should go ahead and call 911. Tell them there's a drunk near an alley on Hill Street. It's just one block over. Go on.”
Dean sighed and shook his head as he strolled towards the phone. Fortunately, emergency service calls were free on payphones. It still felt odd visiting a payphone with a quarter and a dime. In an era of digital money and cellphones, payphones and spare change became obsolete. The young man brushed off the insignificant thoughts, then he reluctantly dialed 911.
A female operator answered, “911, what is your emergency?”
Dean coughed the anxiety from his throat, then he said, “Yeah, there's some crazy man out here screaming on Hill Street. He's over here by the alley.”
“Okay. Is he a danger to you or himself right now?”
“I really don't know. I don't know what's wrong with him. He might hit someone, a car might hit him, or he might fall over. He might be drunk. I don't know, ma'am. Just... Just send someone over. I'm trying to sleep.”
Before the operator could respond, Dean hung up the phone. He bowed his head, planting his wet brow on the payphone. One question ran through his mind: what have I gotten myself into? He
had hoped his vague responses would cause the police to dismiss the call. It was only a matter of time before he would discover Lucas' true definition of 'humiliation.'
Lucas beckoned to Dean and said, “Good job. Follow me.”
The conspiring couple walked towards the neighboring block. They stood behind a thick tree, finding little cover under the groaning branches. The apartment building behind them was abandoned – like the rest of the buildings on the poor side of town. From the strategic position, the pair could see the reported alleyway.
As they waited for the responding police officer to arrive, Lucas said, “So, you really like this Lori girl, don't you? You've fallen for her, haven't you?”
Dean glanced at Lucas with sharp eyes. He asked, “Why are you asking? What does she have to do with any of this?”
“Well, if it weren't for her, we wouldn't be here right now. This was never part of the plan. The kidnapping, the vengeance... These are the consequences of your actions. Think about it. If you never brought her to our home, we wouldn't be here right now.”
“I don't blame her for this. I figured you would have convinced me to do something like this sooner or later.”
Lucas laughed, then he said, “That's not what I asked. Do you like her or not?”
Growing infuriated by the questioning, Dean rapidly nodded and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I like her. She means a lot to me. Is that what you want to hear? Huh? You want some more gambling chips? Some more leverage? Is that why you're asking?”
“I'm asking because I care about you.”
Dean was flabbergasted by the sincere confession. With their first murder, the pair shared a powerful bond, but they did not spew their emotions through words or hugs. The admission of affection was unusual.
Lucas said, “You have to be careful, son. Like men, some women are only on this planet to destroy the good. But, women are more likely to break friendships between other men. Maybe it's jealousy, maybe it's pure evil, but that's the way it is. There are some good apples, sure, but, just like everything else, you can expect some poison fruit in the bunch. Be careful about which one you choose to bite.”
Dean said, “I appreciate the advice, but Lori is a good girl. She's one of the good ones. I know it. I can... I can feel it in my heart.”
Lucas shook his head and said, “I don't trust her, but I can't tell you what to do with your life. Just be careful, okay? Be careful...”
Dean sniffled as he leaned on the tree and stared at Lucas – Lucas didn't share a glance with him. The man kept his eyes locked on the alley, hell-bent on getting his revenge.
The young man said, “Okay, okay. I'll be careful. I'll keep my eye on her. Sure...”
***
After fifteen minutes, a police cruiser drove down the alley and stopped at the mouth of the narrow passage. Considering the lengthy respond time, the police didn't seem overly concerned about the area. The suspicion was bolstered by the police officer's reluctance to leave his vehicle. Instead, the officer could be seen shining his flashlight towards a neighboring dumpster from the comfort of his car.
Lucas tapped Dean's shoulder and said, “We got lucky, boy. He's alone.”
Dean leaned away from the tree and peered towards the black-and-white vehicle. Through the downpour, he could see the car parked over the sidewalk. The police officer was alone, casually flashing his light every which way. Perhaps he was afraid of the rain or scared of the region, like an insightful cat. Regardless, the man refused to leave his car.
From afar, the young man had the perfect view of the police officer. The officer seemed tall and strong. He had a protuberant chest and bulging muscles. His black hair was cut high-and-tight. He wore a standard police uniform – navy from head-to-toe. He could see the badge and tag on his chest, but he couldn't read them.
Dean slowly nodded and asked, “How are we going to get him out, though?”
Lucas clenched his jaw as he glared at the car. He didn't hear a single word from Dean, only the pouring rain and the purring engine captivated him. He was consumed by his insatiable thirst for vengeance. The urge to strike made his entire body shudder, trembling like a person with Parkinson's disease.
Dean gasped as Lucas sprinted towards the police cruiser. Lucas drew the black five-round revolver from the back of his waistband as he approached the car. He jumped onto the hood of the vehicle, then he knelt down on one knee, as if he were proposing – a proposal of death and mayhem. Before the officer could respond, the ex-convict fired all five rounds through the windshield.
At point-blank range, the bullets easily penetrated the glass. The first bullet hit the officer's left shoulder. One round hit the cop in the chest, directly above his left nipple. Another bullet pierced the center of his throat. The next gunshot grazed his left ear and the final bullet missed by a hair. Blood gushed from all of the wounds, erupting like lava from a volcano. The blood oozing from his throat cascaded down his torso like rainfall on a windshield.
The officer trembled in his seat, coughing and grunting. Blood poured from his sputtering lips as he tried to speak, but to no avail. He held one hand to his throat while reaching for his radio with the other. He tried to stop the bleeding and call for help. His efforts, unfortunately, were fruitless. He was too weak to move. Gazing into Lucas' sinister eyes, the noble officer passed away with fear in his heart.
With his palms planted on the top of his head, Dean stared at Lucas from across the street – shocked, terrified, infuriated. He staggered towards the vehicle, teetering left and right. He glanced at each side of the street, searching for any witnesses. There were no cars in sight. The gunfire was muffled by the rainfall – a natural silencer.
Lucas stood on the hood and said, “He deserved it. They all deserve it.”
As he approached, Dean asked, “What have you done? What... What have you brought me into?”
Lucas huffed, then he said, “I must have lost control of myself. Don't worry about it, though. I'll take care of everything. I came prepared.”
“You're right. You will take care of everything 'cause you did it. This wasn't what I agreed to. I... I was never here, man.”
“What are you talking about, Dean? You agreed to help me with a project. Just 'cause I changed it a bit that doesn't mean you didn't agree to it. Where's your integrity, you selfish motherfucker? Besides, you called it in. It'll be your voice on that record, just like it'll be your fingerprints on that drunk and your dick juice in that whore.”
Dean stared at Lucas with narrowed eyes, shocked by his deceit. At heart, he had known about his manipulative ways since the moment they met. He knew about the evil wrapped around his heart. Yet, he never expected his mentor to show his true colors without hesitation. He was staring at a different man – the real Lucas.
Dean said, “I can't believe you'd do this. I can't–”
Lucas interrupted, “Listen, we agreed to one little project. Let's see this through to the end, then we'll discuss everything else. I mean, you don't want to get caught as a cop killer, do you? Just follow my lead one more time and we'll be able to put this behind us.”
With a vacant stare, Dean slowly nodded in agreement. Lucas smirked and winked at the young man, mocking his lack of resolve. He hopped off the hood of the car and pulled a bottle of lighter fluid from his jacket pocket – a small white bottle with a generic label.
Dean grimaced upon spotting the sealed bottle. It was purchased when he wasn't around. He realized Lucas had always intended on killing a cop. He was prepared for everything.
Lucas beckoned to Dean and said, “Get him out of the car. Take off all of his clothes, then toss him in that dumpster. I'll take care of the car.” Dean was frozen in place, incapable of speaking – his tongue was cut with the savage murder. The killer said, “Go on, boy. Don't make me tell you twice.”
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, then he followed Lucas' directions. He dragged the body out of the car, pulling him towards the dumpster to his left. As he lugged the
officer away from the vehicle, he caught a glimpse of the deceased man's tag. His name tag read: C. Murdock. Although he did not recognize it, he wished he had not seen the name.
Sympathy was weakness in his line of work.
As he carefully disrobed the cop, Dean watched Lucas with a keen eye. His mentor shuffled about inside of the car, splashing the interior with lighter fluid. He made sure to soak every nook and cranny with the flammable fluid. He moved the gear stick away from 'park,' then he shoved the car away from the entrance of the alley.
Lucas stopped pushing and simply followed the car as the vehicle gained momentum. He walked beside the car, nonchalantly trying to light a match in the rain. When it finally ignited, the ex-convict tossed the burning stick into the interior and set the car aflame. He stopped and watched as the engulfed police cruiser rolled down the alley, heading towards an intersection on the other side of the block.
Lucas clicked his tongue, then he said, “Good riddance...”
The ex-convict returned to the dumpster. Dean had disrobed the officer, stripping him down to his underwear and socks. Without sharing a word, the couple cooperatively heaved the body into the dumpster. His clothing was tossed in immediately afterward. Lucas covered the slain officer's body with the garments, then he doused the interior of the dumpster with the remaining lighter fluid. He made sure to drench the officer's clothing, hoping it would help prolong the fire.
While Lucas worked, Dean asked, “What do we do with the gun?”
Indifferent, Lucas glanced at Dean and said, “Toss it in. Let's hope it melts with the fire. Let's hope it all melts with the fire.”
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean 'are you sure?' What the hell do we need another gun for? I've got one right here.”
“I thought, um... I thought since you have one, I should keep one for myself, too.”