(2008) Compulsion

by Jennifer Chase

  The Killers are coming.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Sunday 0900 Hours

  The previous small workout studio now incorporates the designated training area for the Porter County Sheriff’s Office. It is an improvised gym that is generally used for police officers that want to work out with weights, treadmills, and heavy weight punching bags. The basement of the building has integrated a private gun shooting range with six available lanes. Officers can practice for their firearm recertification.

  There are eight off-duty police officers mulling around the gym waiting for Sergeant Sullivan to arrive. Most officers are dressed in sweats and t-shirts; some are casually lifting free weights killing time. A couple of men are conversing about the recent events and the possible excitement that might hit their small sleepy town.

  Mike arrives wearing a loose fitting jogging suit and promptly updates the officers to the situation and what he expects from them.

  “Listen up.” The sergeant waits a moment before he continues, “If there is anyone here who doesn’t want to be a part of this you can leave now. And you won’t be faulted in any way for your decision not to participate.”

  The group looks around, but no one makes a move to leave the room.

  Rick enters the gym carrying a couple of manila file folders.

  Mike nods at Rick as he joins him. “Okay, this is Detective Rick Lopez from the Santa Cruz Sheriff’s Office in California. He is going to be working with you individually with special weapons and tactics.”

  Rick nods his introduction to the eager group. He can’t help but notice that these men seem extremely young and would seem more suited for working farms rather than setting a trap for a ruthless serial killer.

  Mike turns to Rick, “Okay, Rick will fill you in on some details.”

  Rick begins, “The man we will be setting up for surveillance and the capture is Donald Everett.” He opens the folder and hands out vital statistics on Donald and recent photos of him and his possible vehicles to the police officers. “Make no mistake by his chubby and ordinary appearance. He has a genius I.Q. and is extremely dangerous. He has already tortured, killed, and dismembered four women we know of, and he’s on his way here for one reason only - to kill.”

  Raising his hand, one of the officers asks, “Sir?”

  Rick responds, “Yes.”

  The officer asks, “How do you know when he’ll arrive?”

  “It will take as long it takes for him to drive here from California.” Rick looks at his watch, “A little less than twenty hours if we’re lucky.”

  The sergeant interjects, “The way this is going to work is that we are going to conduct intelligence around town. Each group will watch the main roads, motels, and diners.” He looks to Rick.

  Rick continues, “He’s methodical and predictable in his killing work. He will systematically search for his victim through intelligence and organization. We will be there waiting for him to take the bait. Basically, we will be leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow.” Rick looks around at the group, worried about their skills for the special assignment. “I will update each group individually as to their specific assignments.”

  Sergeant Sullivan steps up, “Alright everyone pair off, two groups stay here with Rick and the others come with me to the firing range.”

  The officers pair off and wait for their assignments. Rick approaches the sergeant before he leaves to go to the firing range.

  “Do you think these men have what it takes?” Rick asks.

  “One thing you need to realize is that everyone here takes their job and the safety of the citizens very seriously.”

  “Because we don’t have any other choice. We can’t afford to be wrong, and I’m not going to let anything happen to Emily.”

  Mike adds, “Don’t worry about these boys; they have heart as well as ability.”

  “Okay.” Rick joins his two teams in the gym.

  Mike waits a moment and watches Rick explain basic tactics to the young men. The sergeant not only worries about the impact of the situation on the officers, but the impact on the community if something goes terribly wrong.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Sunday 1300 Hours

  Donald and the Accomplice have just finished lunch at a small greasy diner somewhere in Nebraska territory just off Interstate 76. They will be passing over the border into the state of Iowa soon. For the past four hundred miles both men have said fewer than twenty words to one another, but it has proven to be obvious that they don’t need to verbally communicate with each other in the conventional way. The synchronized behavior rituals more than make up the lack of conversation between the two killers. It is almost as if they were separated at birth as twins and now they have found each other again by a macabre twist of fate. It’s that fate that drives their compulsions to kill, each for individual requirements of their psyche, but the Killer Twins have more in common than they realize.

  The two men from completely different backgrounds met by accident during a trolling expedition. They gravitated toward one another in an almost hypnotic trance that has endured the test of time. After their first kill more than a year ago, the relationship was finalized forever. If one were to die unexpectedly, the other would be lost in the world of murder and torture. The kills wouldn’t mean as much or be as fulfilling as in the past without their murder life partner. In order to get to the next level and keep the killing phases moving forward in a chronological order, they must kill each time with a new heightened sense of urgency as well as the use of pure, terrifying ingenuity.

  Donald is hypnotized by the rushing countryside he sees through the windshield and the hum of the engine cruising at a comfortable eighty-five miles per hour. He knows that he is gaining momentum before his meeting with Emily because his cells, nerves, veins, and blood alerts every pore in his body that he’s ready. It contributes to an extraordinary murder high.

  The wonderful road trip experiences have surpassed Donald’s expectations as a prerequisite until his final kill. It is the essential power and autonomy that he craves more than a breath of air. The need propels forward, and eventually it will lead him to his final freedom for everyone to witness. He casually looks over at the Accomplice and references his posture and escalating energy level as well. It’s time again to feed the dark monster that lurks just beneath the surface of flesh and bone. They have driven past signs that alert drivers to the upcoming exits of Des Moines. It sounds like as good a place as any to troll for the next victim. Donald takes the next exit.

  The Accomplice turns to Donald and says, “Good choice.” He relishes the memories of when he told Donald of his big secret a little over a year ago. His fantasies just keep getting bigger and better. Donald acknowledges him and continues to an unknown destination. Sometimes it amazed him how in tune they were to one another; they are indeed the two absolute sections to one whole mortal person.

  Donald drives through an older part of town and systematically takes each street in order. There are many old abandoned buildings where junkies and other deviants hang out in dark doorways until their next fix. Some suspiciously regard Donald and the Accomplice driving slowly through the forgotten neighborhoods, but quickly disregard them as cops or other deviants.

  Several street prostitutes carefully watch the slow vehicle and make a few enticing comments to try to get them to stop. Donald continues to drive past the first three women. The car turns the corner and accelerates slightly down an alley. Before the car makes another systematic turn, he notices a pale petite brunette extinguishing a cigarette.

  Donald slows and then stops the car. He rolls down the window, “Need a ride?”

  Smiling and walking toward the car, “Sure baby, anything you say.”

  Donald smiles. “Get in.”

  The young woman swiftly gets into the back seat and they slowly drive away.

  The Killers are coming.

  *
* * * *

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Sunday 1900 Hours

  Emily and Rick are seated at a quiet booth in a Japanese Restaurant sipping sake. Most of their sushi has been delightfully eaten, only a few pieces remaining on their plates.

  “This is a nice restaurant.” Rick politely states.

  Looking around, Emily replied, “Yes, it is.”

  Rick absently eats the last piece of sushi on his plate. “You just can’t eat just one.” He laughs.

  “I agree.” She smiles. “You should never waste a good piece of sushi.”

  For the first time since he laid eyes on her, Rick observes now that Emily is relaxed and at ease. It was far different than the frantic and intense woman he met earlier. She smiles with a gleam in her eye as she chats about what it was like growing up in Indiana and the wonderful summers that she never wanted to have end. She talks about the warm summer nights where you could stay out all night and the incredible starry skies where her world seemed galaxies away. She fantasized about all of the things she would do with her life.

  Rick tells Emily of his childhood in Oakland and San Francisco in a somewhat gentler time. He had it tough in a poor neighborhood, but his parents always made sure that he had the necessities. He had begun to run with some bad kids in his teens, but the intervention of a caring police officer helped to change his destiny and shape the person he’s become today.

  Rick explains, “I remember when this police officer really got my attention and sat me down.”

  “I bet you remember his name.” Emily adds.

  “Officer Christopher Lewis.”

  “See, I knew it.”

  “He died a couple of years later in liquor store robbery.” He pauses. “That’s when I definitely knew I wanted to be a cop. What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Every cop has a story about why he became a cop.”

  “I had a childhood friend that I had known since Kindergarten, Pam. She had nice parents and a great house where I played often, but one day something went terribly wrong.”

  Rick listens and watches Emily’s body language change from strong to fragile.

  “There were many conflicting stories, but it still didn’t change the outcome. Pam’s dad shot her mom and then turned the gun on himself. Luckily Pam wasn’t there at the time.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It was, but what I really remember the most were the police officers. It was the way they handled the scene; you could really see the anguish on their faces, but they took care of everyone else first. They were selfless.” Emily takes another sip of sake. “I remember I wanted to be strong and look after the neighborhood the way they did.”

  Rick and Emily sit quietly each lost in thought, but it was not an awkward silence. The realization of the many things they have in common was extremely real at the moment.

  Emily is the first to speak again, “Well.”

  Rick smiles and replies, “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Sounds good.”

  As Rick pays the check, Emily waits out in the parking lot. She muses that it’s always about a killer or child abductor. Her whole life has been consumed with the hunt of the next serial killer. Now, perhaps, she has the opportunity to have a normal life and be happy with someone.

  Rick sneaks up behind her, “You lost?” He slips his arms around her waist.

  Emily laughs, “I guess maybe I am.”

  Rick sneaks a couple of kisses from Emily. He asks, “What’s there to do around this town anyway?”

  “Wow, I actually have some time off for a change too. Let me see.” She smiles at Rick. “I know. You game?”

  “You bet.”

  Emily instructs Rick to drive to a far area of town where a picturesque park is located. There are an abundance of trees and a man made lake. The water sparkles in the early evening dusk. A paved walking trail winds around the lake adorned with colorful flowers and shrubbery. There are benches every fifty feet to rest or to just enjoy the tranquil view. There’s a sense of peace and tranquility that illuminates the landscape.

  Emily adds, “I know it’s not exciting, but it’s the closest thing I could think of to like walking at the beach.”

  “It’s nice. I don’t think I’ve slowed down enough lately to just enjoy nature.”

  “Well, I figured it was definitely something that we both could do that didn’t entail grisly crime scene photos and serial killers.”

  Rick taunts, “I think there’s at least one other thing we could do together that doesn’t include serial killers.”

  “That’s my back up plan.” Emily laughs.

  Emily grabs Rick’s hand and leads him down a pathway that interconnects around the lake. She takes him off the regular walkway and through an overgrown path on the south end of the lake. She seems to know it well. It’s deserted and there’s a small rickety boat landing nestled in the trees that ends at the lake. It reveals a private swimming section. Emily kicks her shoes off, strips her t-shirt off, and begins unbuttoning her jeans.

  Rick asks surprised, “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? You are a detective, right?” She teases.

  Before Rick can respond, Emily has stripped down to her bra and panties.

  Emily continues, “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to cool off from this humidity.” She jumps into the lake with a splash and disappears under the water.

  The cool water feels incredible on her skin. Emily dives under the water again until her lungs could no longer exhale. She feels alive and revived by the water with an almost invincible energy. The outdoor air now feels cool instead of humid and hot. She looks back at the old boat landing, but Rick is nowhere in sight. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t see where he went.

  Now Emily begins to swim back to the dock; still no sign of Rick. She is about to hoist herself back onto the dock when she is pulled backward into the water. Rick grabs her around the waist and kisses her with passionate excitement.

  Emily catches her breath, “I thought you ran away.”

  “You’re going to have to do more than that to scare me away.” Rick splashes her. “I take it you’ve done this before?”

  “Just once.” She pauses. “Okay, twice.” Emily laughs and swims toward the other side of the lake followed closely by Rick.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Monday 0600 Hours

  The early sun has been up for about an hour and the afterglow of murder still lingers in Donald’s mind and body. The terrified screams in his mind are only reminiscent of the kill, but the sweet salty taste of blood and flesh will forever be engrained in his memory to relive over and over again. He can feel himself getting closer to Emily, almost as if he could reach out and touch her at that exact moment. He will soon absorb her soul into his and reap the benefits of the final transition. No one will deny him again of power and strength - ever.

  The last kill took longer than expected, but it was well worth it. The best is about to begin, the grand finale. Donald continues to drive along Interstate 80 toward Chicago and they are about a hundred and fifty miles before they reach the windy city.

  Donald is growing tired of the same countryside for the last day, but his memories of victims keep his mind alert and content. His compulsion urges him to move forward with growing urgency. The more he thinks about Emily and her self-righteousness, the more he knows that his plan is perfect to snuff out her very existence and then absorb into his own.

  A police siren jolts Donald back to reality. He looks in the rearview mirror and sees an Aurora police officer riding his bumper with sirens and lights directed at him. He can see a middle-aged man with a heavy mustache driving with intensity. Donald knows that he wasn’t speeding at that moment, so the local Santa Cruz police must have connected him to the crime scenes and distributed his name and license plates as a wanted killer. He regards this escalating situation for a moment and then
smiles. He looks to his Accomplice who confirms his thoughts and effortlessly tucks the gun under his right leg for easy retrieval.

  Donald eases the car off the Interstate down a dirt access road to a water treatment facility. The area is deserted and offers some camouflage from prying eyes. Donald keeps the car slowly rolling another ten feet for good measure.

  The Aurora police officer switches his sirens off but keeps the red and blue lights flashing. The officer carefully exits his vehicle with his standard issue firearm aimed right at Donald and the Accomplice. He has a steady hand and knows proper procedures, which indicates that he’s a seasoned police officer.

  From a routine license plate check, Aurora Police Officer Jenkins discovered that the car belongs to a wanted serial killer from California and is considered to be armed and extremely dangerous. The early day shift is actively developing into a front-page headline for him. Back up support is twenty minutes away, but the situation won’t wait until help arrives.

  Officer Jenkins moves cautiously toward the vehicle. He sees two individuals inside staring straight ahead. His mind searches the possibility of a hostage or hitchhiker that the killer picked up along the way. His adrenaline is pumping, but his hands are steady as a rock.

  “Put your hands where I can see them! Now!” Officer Jenkins watches the two seated men put their hands in the air. “Driver get out of the vehicle with your hands up!”

  Donald slowly opens the door and steps out with his hands in the air. He says innocently, “What seems to be the problem officer?”

  “Shut up and keep your hands in the air. Turn around now.”

  Officer Jenkins moves in and quickly retrieves his handcuffs from his belt. He pushes Donald up against the hood and handcuffs his hands behind his back. He reaches into Donald’s pocket and takes out his wallet with his California driver’s license. “Well, well. Looks like somebody wants you real bad.”