Click.
I hear fluid squirting through a cylinder.
“Goodbye, Samuel.”
Locks disengage and I hear the door open. I listen as someone enters the room. Steps toward me.
The Jon blur moves close to me. “Samuel, it’s like I just turned on the light in a child’s room and the monster disappeared.”
“Samuel, go and be in peace.” My mom’s voice.
I am suddenly warm. So warm. And sleepy. And as my mom suggested, I’m at complete peace, in a strange place of comfort. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll find a way back. I have a promise to keep.”
I take in a deep breath, let it out. It seems to take a long time, like my lungs can’t remember exactly how to do it. I think I can actually feel my heart slowing down. I am so very tired, more tired than I have ever been in my life. My eyes drift close.
A cheek presses against mine. Comforting. Soft. A clean smell. My mom. That’s how my mom smells. She speaks. “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name…”
I fight with all my being to crack open my eyes. She is pressed against me. But I can’t make out any details. I wish I could see her one more time.
A hand, soft, smooth, trembling, takes my right hand. “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.”
The growing blackness is heavy, pushes me into the bed.
“…but forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
“One last thing.” Jon’s voice. My mom’s cheek pulls away. “Samuel, where is the girl’s body?”
“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” My mom’s voice is still close, perhaps right next to the bed. “For Thine is the Kingdom, the power, and the glory. Forever and ever. Amen.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“What?” Jon says.
Warmth floods my entire body. The description of a hot bath is not far off. “Her hair. A keepsake. Proof of my reward from God. I accidently cut her forehead, but I didn’t kill her.”
“Cut whose forehead?” my mom asks.
“The sheriff’s daughter,” Jon exclaims. “Jesus Christ, Samuel, she’s alive? Where?”
My mind is slowing drastically now. Thoughts are losing form.
“Where’s the damn girl, Samuel?” Jon screams.
“I’ll take you to her when I come back for you. So she can watch you die.”
I am so very tired. But must fight to stay awake. One last thing to say.
“Mom?”
“Yes, Samuel?”
“You can’t erase me.”
Then there is only darkness.
Acknowledgments
Years ago, Dr. Cindy Kennedy and I visited about a double murder in the news. The victims were young girls. We agreed there should be a place where real justice existed. Where crimes committed against the innocent could be exacted upon the guilty. Dante’s Inferno style. Cindy coined this place a “Criminal Zoo.” Fast forward eleven years. Criminal Zoo is here.
I have learned that being an author is like being the captain of a ship. I get to drive. But it is the crew that launches the vessel, keeps it afloat. As the author, my name is on the cover, so I will take the blame for this terrifying story. But I will not take the credit. To begin, I want to thank my wife Tiki. You believed in me. Cheered me on. Gave me every reason to succeed.
To Pat Walsh and Defenestration Press, along with Tyson Cornell and Rare Bird Books, where do I begin? You guys took a chance on me. You guided me through the roller coaster ride of getting published and you made my dream a reality. Words cannot describe my gratitude.
Dad, JoAnn, Mom, and Alan, you raised me to never give up. You taught me that anything worthwhile must be earned. And all things are possible. Because of your lessons, getting published was the only acceptable outcome.
Stevie, Quinn, Tyler, and Jaxon, you guys grew up watching my struggles. During times of discouragement, you had only words of encouragement. How many times did we talk about “one day when I get published…?”
Stephen Lance, you suggested I give my manuscript to your wife, Karin. I followed your advice and she brought legitimacy to my work. Janet McDaniel, I greatly appreciate the reams of paper and enough ink cartridges to fill a dump trunk. Karen Klement, thank you for helping me get this endeavor off the ground. Dr. Eldon Olson, because of your knowledge and expertise, I was able to write through the mind of a serial killer.
To my siblings: Chimene, Cindi, Brandon, Jeff, Kristin, and Erin, your unending support made a difference. And to all my friends and family members, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Matt Dahl, we shared a lot of coffees talking about this. Thank you for getting involved. And Alli, night after night, you kept an eye on me as I wrote. I will never forget you.
Dan and Kim, Susan, Mr. Kurt Anthony, Kayce and Austin, Cassidy, Dave and Pam, Dawn, Cindy, Lynnetta, Dr. Anne Guiliano and Jim, Lil, Cam and Amy, Bekah, Dr. Chris Schreiber, Bud and Joan, Kayla, Allen and Jennie, Sheryl, Dr. Joe Dillard and Stella Fong, and to all others who hired me for personal training sessions, while I worked my night job as a starving author, you gave me a day job and an income. And to you Beth Connaghan, see what you started?
To the supporters, some mentioned above, Richard, Reggie, Robert, and Chris thank you for believing in me.
Hey Woody, Monte, Mel, Levi, Reps, Meyers, JR, and Justin…we did it.
And finally, to the universe. You brought these amazing souls into my life. I am blessed.
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