by Willow Rose
I nodded. It was true. Was the guy changing up the game? But why? Usually, serial killers would only divert from their MO if they were afraid of being caught, but this guy didn’t know we were onto him. Did he?
“My second question is, how did this guy know where to find Jamal Robinson? Hadn’t you just told him to leave and not tell anyone where he went?”
“He made a live video during the taxi drive from the airport,” I said. “I watched it. I had told him to keep under the radar, but he must have felt he needed to give his viewers something, or he might lose them.”
“So, he made the video just shortly before the swatting happened?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Seems awfully close, doesn’t it?”
“What do you mean? He could have seen it, just like I did, then made the call.”
Matt nodded pensively while taking another sip.
“You don’t think so?” I asked.
“No, no. Of course, it’s a possibility. Guys like him are always on or near the computer, but I just don’t understand how he knew exactly where to find them. If he made a video in the taxi, then did he also say where they were going out to eat? Did he mention that in the video?”
I shook my head. Matt had a point.
“Did you know where he was?” Matt asked.
I wrinkled my forehead. “I guess there are other ways to find out….”
“Did you? Did he tell you?”
“He did. He texted me from the airport and told me that they had landed and that he was looking for a good burger joint. He also said that the guy helping them with their luggage had given them the name of a place; it was something French…where are you going with this?”
He shook his head again. “Nowhere. Just thinking out loud…could he have texted anyone else?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I told him not to. But he might have. I also told him not to make any videos, and he still did that. His agent might have known. Maybe a friend, a girlfriend, who knows?”
“And you’ll probably never find out, but it is odd that he was found,” Matt said, sipping his beer. “And I do think that this killer knows you’re onto him. He must know you talked to Jamal. That’s why he’s changing his tactics. Either to try and lose you or maybe because he wants to play games.”
“And me getting to Jamal before he did has angered him,” I said. “Up until now, he’s believed himself to be invincible, to be able to commit the perfect murder. I’ve disrupted that.”
“And you know what that means.”
“I have put a target on my own back.”
Matt sighed deeply.
“Exactly.”
Chapter 35
“With us this morning on a Skype call from her hospital bed is Amal Bukhari. In case you don’t know who Amal Bukhari is, she’s one of the world’s most popular YouTubers and online gamers. She was recently shot on an airplane when the police thought she was carrying a bomb. Ever since, she has been hospitalized and gone through surgery after surgery to get back to life. Good morning to you, Amal. How are you feeling today?”
Amal smiled at her camera. The hostess on Good Morning America had briefed her shortly before they went live, and the connection had been terrible, but now it seemed to be better.
“Good morning. I’m okay,” she said. “But I am quite outraged.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it has happened again. Two days ago, Jamal Robinson, or Buddha as we call him in the gaming world, lost his mother in a restaurant in Montreal.”
“It’s been all over the news,” the host said. “I think most people have heard about it, but in case you haven’t, let me quickly explain that the police in Montreal went to the restaurant after receiving a bomb threat for the restaurant, and they shot and killed Jamal’s mother, who was forty-eight. A terrible tragedy that has sent shockwaves through all of us, especially in the world of social media and the gaming community, naturally.”
“It makes me so angry because it was exactly the same thing that happened to me,” Amal said. “They shoot first and ask questions later. The police brutality we are experiencing in this day and age is worse than anything in history. We are going in the wrong direction. We are going backward.”
“And you believe it is racism?”
“Look at my brown face,” Amal said. “The SWAT team did and immediately believed I had to be a terrorist. Would they have reacted the same way had I been white? Would they have they shot Jamal’s mom if she had been a white mom trying to help her son? Would they have knocked the kid to the ground if he hadn’t been black? I don’t think so. We all know this is happening all over the country and even out of the country too. Why not say it the way it is? They look at our skin color and decide our lives aren’t as important as someone who is white.”
“The police call what happened to you ‘an unfortunate accident.’ How do you react to that?”
Amal scoffed. “They try to kill me and then they call it an accident? I don’t buy it. There is something wrong deep inside our system and within our police force. And that is why I want the officer who shot me to pay for what he did. I am bound to a bed right now and will never live a normal life again.”
“They tell me he was fired afterward; isn’t that enough?”
She shook her head. “No! If you try to kill someone, you need to go to jail. I want this guy to serve time.”
“So, you’re filing a civil lawsuit,” the anchor said.
“Yes, and last night I just received word that the case will go to trial. Meanwhile, I am arranging a demonstration in Washington, D.C., and I urge everyone to come out and join me. It’s time we stop this from happening. We can’t just watch while our sisters and brothers and our children are being shot down in the streets. This must end now. We demand action right now. We can no longer rely on our justice system. We will take matters into our own hands if necessary.”
“Thank you, Amal Bukhari, for joining us,” the hostess said and looked directly into the camera, addressing the viewers, while adding:
“The protest will take place on January fifteenth. Anyone who wants to know more can follow Amal on social media where she will be updating about the event.”
Chapter 36
THEN:
FanTAUstic345: I need your help.
DeVilSQuaD666: Sure. What’s up?
FanTAUstic345: Having some trouble with someone.
DeVilSQuaD666: With who?
FanTAUstic345: Someone who’s getting on my nerves. SlayerAlpha32.
DeVilSQuaD666: What’d he do?
FanTAUstic345: He owes me money. Refuses to pay up. I asked him about it, and then he killed me in the game. Took everything I had.
DeVilSQuaD666: I hate those types. You shouldn’t let him get away with it. You want to strike back?
FanTAUstic345: What do you mean?
DeVilSQuaD666: I know how.
FanTAUstic345: Really?
DeVilSQuaD666: Sure. Tell me who he is, and I’ll make sure he’s punished properly.
FanTAUstic345: You sure?
DeVilSQuaD666: If you pay me.
FanTAUstic345: How much?
DeVilSQuaD666: 1000 bucks will do.
FanTAUstic345: That’s a lot of money.
DeVilSQuaD666: You want it done or not? You won’t have to lift a finger. No one will know it was you.
FanTAUstic345: I don’t want to do anything illegal.
DeVilSQuaD666: Don’t worry. You’re just teaching this guy a small lesson. Nothing bad.
FanTAUstic345: Okay. If you say so.
Chapter 37
I watched the interview with Amal Bukhari on Good Morning America on my computer. The kids had taken off for school, and I was holding my warm coffee between my hands. Matt was rummaging around the kitchen, getting himself some breakfast, while my mom was filling the dishwasher. The kids had been arguing all morning, and I had ended up yelling even louder to get them to shut up. Now I felt awful and
wished I could go back and just hold them tightly in my arms instead or at least speak like a normal person and not yell. The atmosphere had been horrid when sending them off, one kid more furious with me than the other.
Elijah had stayed out of it and not said a word. The kid was smart, no doubt about it. There was something different with him and Matt since I got back. Much to my surprise, Elijah was actually speaking to him. Not many words, but a few here and there, and sometimes even an entire sentence. I was pleased to see that their relationship was improving. I had noticed that Matt no longer treated him like he was fragile, and he was actually telling him what to do, like this morning he had told him to put his cereal bowl in the dishwasher after he was done eating. I had watched in awe as the kid actually did as he was told and put the bowl in the dishwasher. My kids didn’t even do that.
“What are you watching?” Matt asked as he came into the living room, holding a bowl of Cheerios in his hand that he ate, standing up, slurping the milk. It was like watching a child eat breakfast.
“Amal Bukhari. She’s arranging some sort of protest demonstration soon.”
“Protest? Against what?”
“Police brutality.”
“She was the one that was shot on the airplane, right?”
I nodded and sipped my coffee. “She thinks it was because of her skin color. That they reacted erratically because she’s of Pakistani descent.”
Matt shook his head. “An awful story. I feel for the officer who accidentally shot her. Not only was he fired, but he’s also being charged with attempted murder. That is serious stuff. The guy’s life is ruined.”
“So is hers,” I said. “She’s had a ton of surgeries. Had all kinds of organs removed and patched up. Her body will never function properly.”
“I guess there are no winners in these types of cases. The guy was just trying to do his job. The way I see it, it could happen to any of us. I’m not even sure you have to be racist to shoot someone in a situation like that.”
I nodded and drank more coffee. Even though I had met my share of racist colleagues in blue, it didn’t really have to have anything to do with that. Situations like these could so easily escalate and end badly.
“But he hasn’t tried to kill her again, has he?” Matt asked and finished his breakfast by drinking the rest of the milk from the bowl. A few drops escaped and ran down his chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re saying that this was the Swatter, right? The guy who called in the bomb threat that led to her being shot? That it was the same guy as in the other cases.”
“I have reason to believe it was, yes, why?”
“She didn’t die. Do you think he’ll try again?”
“That’s a very good question,” I asked. “If he does come for her, then he might also come for Jamal. But I’m not sure that’s his motive if you know what I mean. I’m not sure that killing the person that he swats is the actual purpose. I think he chooses them carefully because of their popularity or because their death will obtain media coverage. He doesn’t have an outstanding issue with the person or any other specific motive for killing them. At least none that I have found.”
“So, killing Jamal’s mother or simply hurting Amal Bukhari will be enough for him?” Matt asked. “Because it gets the coverage he wants?”
“That’s my theory, yes. He has some sort of higher purpose that I have yet to figure out. But once I do, he won’t be able to hide from me anymore.”
Chapter 38
Every inch of the four walls of my bedroom was covered with everything I could possibly find online about the Swatter’s victims. And that was a lot. Some of them were big celebrities in the gaming world and had millions of followers, while others were smaller gamers, but all used Twitch for their live streams. And then there was Jamal’s mother. Twelve people so far had been killed by the hand of this guy. All looked like accidents from the outside, unfortunate incidents.
Boy, this guy was good.
I’d been Googling for hours on end all day, and now I was staring at the collage on my walls and the many yellow post-it notes plastered on top of it. I had tried to find a connection between the victims, anything beyond the fact that they played Call of Duty and live-streamed on Twitch. I was hoping that there would be something else…that there was something I had missed. Anything that could direct me to this guy’s motive for doing these things, for killing these people.
Did it have something to do with the game?
Matt had left for work, and my mom had gone to Orlando for the day, so I had the house to myself, which was good for thinking. I didn’t even notice when Alex came home from school in the afternoon until he flew through the door to my room, a big smile on his face.
“Hi there, buddy. How was your day? Come here and give me a hug,” I said.
He made a face like it was the worst thing in the world. “Mo-om!”
Then he ran back out. I stared in his direction. Was that it then? No more hugs from my little man? Had he already grown out of snuggling?
I wasn’t going to let him go that easy.
“I’m hungry!” he yelled from his room.
I went to the kitchen and pulled out the bread to make a couple of peanut butter sandwiches when my phone rang. It was my dad.
“Hi there. What’s up?”
I had asked my father to help me with the case since he knew everything about computers and gaming. At least a lot more than I did. He worked in cybersecurity and could gain access to almost anywhere online. I enjoyed working with him, and I sensed he did too. Working together on this made us closer, and I liked that. We had been apart for thirty-six years until he suddenly popped into my life a few months earlier. That was when I learned that I also had a younger half-brother, Adam.
I had asked my dad to play Call of Duty for me for a few days so I could take time off to dig deeper into my research. I needed him to keep an eye out for FaZeYourFeaRs.
“Did he show up?” I asked while smearing peanut butter on the bread and holding the phone between my shoulder and neck.
“He did,” my dad said. He sounded strange. I put the knife down and grabbed the phone in my hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s…everywhere.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand?”
“He’s teaming up with many different players. He’s been doing this for the past twenty-four hours, and I’m just trying to keep track of him, but every time I find him, he’s teamed up with someone else.”
“He’s changing the game,” I mumbled. “He knows we can’t warn all of them.”
“I’ve been trying to keep track of each and every one of them and finding their real-life names and addresses, but there are so many now.”
I sat on a stool, my pulse quickening. What was this guy up to now?
“He’s telling us he knows we warned Jamal. So he’ll just change it up, so we can’t do that anymore. He wants us to watch from the sidelines,” I said. “He’s cornered us.”
“Sounds almost like it’s Game Over for us.”
I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, well, we’ll just have to up our game too. Send me the list of names you have so far, will you? Defeat is not a word in my vocabulary, as he’ll soon learn.”
Chapter 39
She was burned out. She knew it, and so did everyone who knew her. Susan ‘SSweatpea’ Johnson stared at her computer screen and her headphones lying next to it.
“You don’t have to do it, Susan,” her husband Rob said, coming up behind her. He put a hand on her big stomach and smiled cautiously.
“It stresses you out, and I don’t want that. Not in your condition.”
“But I’ll lose all my sponsors. We’ll be poor.”
He shrugged. “So what? With the money you’ve earned already, we can make it pretty far. The house is paid off, and we’ll come up with something. I still have my job.”
“We’ll figure it out, Susan. I don’t want you gaming sixteen hours a day and stressing yourself out. You have to face the fact that it is over, honey. And you can’t do it once the baby arrives anyway. You’ll be busy taking care of our little girl. She’ll need to eat often and have her diaper changed. There’s no extra time when you take care of a baby.”
Susan sighed, exhausted, knowing Rob was right. She had known for quite some time now. She had no idea that being pregnant would be this tough. She had thought she could at least continue until the baby arrived. But she felt so tired and so emotional that there was no way she could keep up in the world of professional gaming anymore.
Susan was one of the veterans in the gaming community. Before becoming a professional video gamer in 2009, she had been an ordinary high school student, working at the local post office in the summers. Her parents were poor, and they never had much while she was growing up. She always had to wear her brother’s old clothes, which made her look like a boy since her mother insisted on keeping her hair short too, cutting it herself to avoid getting lice or anything else that might cost them a fortune.
Money was tight when she was growing up, and her parents didn’t understand this new world that Susan had entered when she just started. So, when Susan told them there was money to be earned when gaming, they told her she was insane and that she needed to keep her job at the post office. Susan hid it from them in the beginning, but when she entered a tournament one spring, she won five thousand dollars. It was a heck of a lot more than she could earn at the post office over an entire summer. And as she told them this, she had her parent’s full attention. They spent the five thousand on a new gaming computer and whatever else she needed. Two years later, she signed a three-year contract with tournament operator MLG-Major League Gaming, earning two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.