by Jon Mills
“How do I put this…?”
Jack set the bottle of beer down on the table.
“Dalton.”
“Jason is dead,” he said before quickly rushing to console him. “Jack. I’m sorry.”
It felt like he’d been splashed in the face with freezing cold water. It took him a minute to register what he said and another for it to fully sink in before he probed for more details.
“What? How?”
“That’s the hard part. Seems Dana and Jason have been living in San Francisco for a while. Last night there was a shooting. A video was uploaded online of some lunatic filming himself killing two youngsters. One of them was Jason.”
Jack listened quietly as he brought him up to speed on what he knew.
“Anyway, Dana wants you to contact her the first chance you get.”
Still, no response.
“Jack? You still there?”
“Yeah,” he replied in almost a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I really am. Look, here’s her number.” He reeled it off and Jack scribbled it down. Dalton sighed. “If you need someone to talk to about this, I’m always here. You know that, right?”
“I appreciate that. Thanks, Dalton.”
Their conversations were usually long, mostly Dalton rambling on about what was happening in his world, and then questioning Jack about his drinking and how he was coping. But this time it was cut short.
Jack leaned back in the comfort of his home and though physically warm, he felt cold inside. Memories of his time with Jason slipped through his mind. His voice, his smile and the way he made his mother laugh and cry. Although he was hesitant to see the video online, he had to know. Jack reached for his tablet and ran a search on murdered teens in San Francisco. He figured there would be a few local articles, what he didn’t expect was the flurry of results that came back, some of which linked to a video of what was being called “The Zodiac Killing.”
Jack clicked on a link, squeezed his eyes closed and once the page loaded, he tapped on the video and watched it play out. At first it wasn’t clear, just darkness mixed with the sound of a car on gravel, then the video adjusted and he could see two red eyes in the distance. They were rear taillights. It was like watching one of those found footage movies, except this was real. Over the course of the next few minutes he soaked it all in: the vehicle, the look of shock on the face of a girl as a hand extended and a gunshot was fired. He watched as doors opened, and Jason appeared. For a split second, Jack’s lip curled, admiring how much he’d grown. It had been so long. That was all washed away in seconds as a distorted male voice ordered him to the back of the vehicle, then it happened. Jason lunged at him and there was a scuffle before a round echoed and a body slumped. Next, a scream then boots pounding the ground until five rounds echoed in quick succession.
Then it was over.
The attacker turned, cast a glance over each of them and then shut the video off.
Jack clicked away and observed that there were hundreds of websites offering people a way to watch the killing. He shook his head in disbelief. Modern technology had just made it possible for killers to gain the attention of billions in a matter of hours. Back when the Zodiac had killed, the Internet didn’t exist. The only means of gaining the public’s attention was through TV stations and newspaper outlets, and they only ran what they chose but now there weren’t any gatekeepers. Now anyone could gain the attention of the masses with a single video, and an army of morbid people willing to share it.
Jack stared down at the new phone number Dalton gave him.
This was not how he saw things playing out.
He’d often wondered about her and contemplated getting in touch but out of respect for her wishes and her safety, he’d stayed away. Jack ran a hand through his hair and got up and went to get another beer. He twisted the cap and took a swig before grinding his teeth and tossing it across the room in anger. It smashed against the wall, soaking the floor beneath.
It was too surreal; like he was in some kind of nightmare and couldn’t awake.
He’d stayed away for this very reason — he didn’t want any harm coming to them. It wasn’t meant to be this way. They were meant to live out their lives. Jason was meant to get older, find a girl, get married, make something of his life — away from danger, away from the life they would have had with him.
But even after everything he’d done, he couldn’t stop this from happening.
Jack leaned against the fridge and pounded it with his fist causing a dent in the metal.
His mind went into overdrive. Who could have done this? Why?
Regardless of what news outlets had said, his initial thoughts circled the obvious. The method in which they had been killed reeked of a mob hit. It was sloppy but he’d seen worse. Could they have found them? Were they trying to draw him out? After all this time he couldn’t believe it. He was sure he’d taken care of anyone associated with Gafino. And as for the rest? There was no one left in New York that had the balls to come searching for him.
Jack returned to the living area and began phoning around. He spoke with those close to Eddie — anyone who might have heard about the mob’s involvement in a hit in San Francisco. Twenty minutes later, he was certain they weren’t behind this. That’s when he called Dana.
The phone rang, and he shifted in his seat, feeling like he was about to be interrogated.
She answered.
“Dana.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
That’s when the sobbing started. He let her get it out of her system before he gave his condolences. It took her at least ten minutes to compose herself before he could understand her. Before that, her words were strung together with crying.
“Would you know anything about this?” Dana asked.
He figured she would go there. It made sense. After all, they’d been through in the past, his background, and the potential for someone to attack her to get back at Jack, it seemed logical.
“No. I’ve already asked around, and no one knows anything.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry, I had to ask.”
“Right.” He paused. “How are you coping?”
“How do you think?”
He berated himself. Dumb question.
“Jack. I… I want you to find whoever did this.”
He said nothing.
“Do you hear me?”
“What are the police saying?”
“What do you think? The same crap. We’ll look into it. The media are saying it’s some lunatic who is trying to start up the whole Zodiac thing again.” She let out a heavy sigh. “He was just about to turn nineteen, Jack. He had a new girlfriend. Dreams of becoming a cop.”
“A cop?”
That caught him off-guard.
“I know. Surprising after everything, right?”
He didn’t give her a response. In that moment he felt like he was walking on eggshells.
Jack leaned back and breathed in deeply. “I can be out there within the day,” he said. “But um, there is something you need to know.”
“What?”
How was he going to say this? “I passed through San Francisco about seven months ago. Did a small job for a client. I think I was spotted coming out of the building.”
She was quiet for a moment on the other end of the line.
“So coming here will be a problem. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes. No. I mean I don’t know. I just...” He stumbled over his words. For weeks after that job, he’d kept a close eye on the San Francisco Police Department’s website, along with the media to see if there was any mention of a suspicious man seen in the area. There was none, so he figured the cop who saw him couldn’t have got a clear look at his face.
“Look, it’s not a problem. I’ll be there.”
“Okay, I’ll give you my address.” He picked up a pen and jotted it down. “And Jack, I’ll pay you. Whatever you want.”
/> “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
“No, I mean, I can’t accept that,” he replied.
She was quiet for few seconds. “Okay, um. I’ll speak to you soon.”
She hung up, and he was left feeling cold and empty. All the tension that had left only an hour ago was back with vengeance causing his head to ache. He slowly placed the phone down and sat there for a few seconds looking out the window. Although it was tranquil outside, inside he could feel a storm rising, something deep and dark swirling within. He got up and trudged down into the basement where he stored an arsenal of weapons in a locked cabinet. He retrieved a Glock 22, smacked a magazine into the bottom, grabbed a few more and exited the home. At the rear of the house, he’d created his own firing range.
There wasn’t much to it. A shooting bench, a shooting rest, a target stand and targets, all of which he’d purchased from a local sports retailer.
It was a great way to sharpen his skills and at times, let off steam. He was usually in a good frame of mind when he used it, not this time.
Once everything was set up, he raised the Glock and squeezed off round after round until he emptied the magazine. He tossed it and threw in another and continued firing as he moved downrange, getting closer and closer to his target. Every round that fired, echoed loudly. He went through four magazines before he gazed at the target that was riddled with bullets, all of them in a tight cluster.
He ripped the paper target away and balled it up in his hand, rage taking over his emotions as he went back inside. He set the gun down and headed to the computer and brought up everything he could find on the Zodiac. There were thousands of results. That’s when he saw it was still classed as an open case, and that no one had ever been identified, even though many accusations had been made. He scanned through the history of different victims and saw the similarity to Jason’s death. Jack brought up the video again and looked for where they’d fallen and listened to his commands as he ordered them around. He was setting them up like pawns in some kind of sick game. Trying to reenact a twisted fantasy in his head, but why? Most sickos who wanted to make their mark, didn’t wish to do it in the shadow of another killer. They weren’t there to impersonate but to demonstrate that they were better than the rest. In the mob it was the same. Ego trumped idolizing. Jack continued to scan through articles gleaning as much as he could about the murder hoping he might learn something, anything that could be of use. The last thing he wanted to do was arrive with nothing to go on.
Whoever had done this, it didn’t matter to him, he would hunt them down and dispose of them like any other. Though this time… it wasn’t business, it was personal.
Chapter 4
The San Francisco Public Library had twenty-seven branches spread throughout the city. He was at the one located at the Civic Center. The Sierra White granite façade stood out among the surrounding buildings, a majestic display of architecture. Inside it was buzzing with activity as he slipped in unnoticed. Just another face among the crowd, that’s all he was, but that would all change soon enough. It smelled musty, and eyes drifted over him as he passed the information booth. He rubbed his fingers over her library card in his pocket, the same one that had given him access to a computer to upload the video of the murder. Of course it had been taken from a different victim. That murder they’d never hear about. It wouldn’t be connected to him. It was random like the other three he’d committed prior to last night. They were just warm-ups, a means to get a taste for it. He relished in what he’d been able to achieve in such a short time. And he could now understand why he did it — the Zodiac, that is.
He glided through the crowd, feeling a sense of power, a sense of worth. It had begun and was going to plan perfectly, like flicking the first domino over and creating a chain of events.
It could have all been avoided if they’d just listened to him, but no, those pigs wouldn’t take his word. They wanted the case to remain open; they didn’t want to look like fools now, almost fifty years later.
Inserted into his ears was a pair of earbuds, connected to an iPhone, which played on loop the audio of the murders. He could envision it all without seeing the footage. His mind replayed each moment: the sound of gravel crunching below boots, the look of surprise on the young man’s face as he pulled the flashlight beam away and he registered the gun. He hit pause, then rewound and played it again.
Eyes widened. “What the fuck?”
The girl’s scream. It was like tantalizing music to his ears. He allowed the recording to continue playing as he entered the center of the library. A dramatic skylight flooded the six-story atrium giving it a sense of peace amid a chaotic city, now in the grip of terror. The stocky man gazed up at the bridges connecting floors, and the grand staircase that rose near a wall that had the names of a hundred authors. He passed by a mural, an artwork that comprised of three stories’ worth of 50,000 annotated cards. Computers were on all floors except the sixth and second. He’d already reserved a computer online to avoid having to do a walk-up booking. All that was required was a library card and password, all of which he’d got from his victim before puncturing her skull with a round weeks earlier.
He ascended the spiral staircase that would take him up to the third floor. He glanced down at the scrap of paper that listed the computer MAIN347. Today’s upload would send the investigation in a whole new direction. He was fully aware that they weren’t going to treat this as he hoped they would, despite its obvious parallel to the Zodiac’s original murders. He’d been very careful to make sure that everything was just right. Sure, he couldn’t use the same locations as much had changed over the last forty-eight years, and it would make finding him too obvious, but the murders, that he could control.
It was all about preparation. If anything, he’d learned from the Zodiac that he never got caught because he’d always been two steps ahead of the police and media. So many killers were caught because they didn’t plan ahead — they used only one vehicle, instead of multiple, they didn’t cover their face and so they were easily identified. Even now as he glanced up at the library security, he didn’t feel a bead of sweat on his brow, that was because he’d made sure to conceal his face behind a baseball cap, sunglasses and false facial hair. Even the hair was a different color to his own. He’d even gone so far as to use a fake mole on his left cheek to draw people’s attention away from his other features. To others it might have seemed like overkill but to him it was as exciting as squeezing the trigger and watching someone’s brains leak out. It was part of the process, the chase and damn, he was enjoying it. Once again he could sense what it must have been like for the Zodiac, to move among the crowd without them knowing. They were like sheep, going about their business. From the cradle to the grave: get an education, get a job, get a home, get a life, and then die. Nope, not him, he was going to leave his mark on this world even if it was painted in blood.
He arrived at the computer, dropped his backpack and took a seat. He glanced at a young woman seated to his left, he wondered for a second what it would be like to watch the light go out in her eyes, or to hear her plead for her life. She was a pretty little thing, dark hair, blue eyes and fair skin — a student. Probably was studying to impress the parents, boast to her friends and land a job in some boring office where she would spend the remainder of her life being someone’s lapdog. He smiled at her, and she gave a nervous glance before looking away.
After removing the flash drive, he logged into the system with the library card and password and brought up the next video. He glanced around, fully aware of the cameras and which way they focused. He liked the feeling of being watched. The sense that he was flirting with danger and would one day be caught. The Zodiac enjoyed that too, that’s why he sent the letters. He liked to go to the edge in every aspect both with his victims and the police; so would he. He would embody every aspect of who he was, and relish every moment for however long it would last, except he would go a step farther, and
do what the Zodiac only threatened to do.
The video was simple, a pre-recorded message of him in a location that would be impossible to identify. He’d recorded it far from his home, in the dead of night inside an abandoned building. He cast another sideways glance at the girl; willing her with his mind to look over his shoulder, give him any reason to snuff her light out.
She had her nose buried in a book, then she would glance up at the screen and begin typing away. He looked back at his screen and played the video again just to make sure that nothing had been missed or cut off. Next, he logged into the VPN network that would mask his IP. They made it so easy. Though he had uploaded the last video from the Golden Gate Valley branch, he was still taking precautions. He didn’t want them tracking him down too soon. There were others to kill, others that needed to die in order that he might be elevated into the consciousness of those around the world.
He spent five minutes reading some of the comments online in response to the murder video.
He’s a sicko. I hope they catch him soon.
This man is a genius.
The Zodiac is back? Shit, I hope they catch him this time.
I still can’t believe no one has cracked the 340 Cipher yet?
Has he sent out a new cipher?
I want to marry him.
Do you think it’s him? It can’t be, he would be like 90 years of age by now.
I call bullshit. The guy died a long time ago in prison.
Everyone knows the police knew who it was but never arrested him as it would have embarrassed the department. Apparently he murdered people to get back at law enforcement.
He’s nothing more than a coward.
I want his babies.
I hope he dies.
He chuckled. The opinions were wide and varied. Thousands had already commented on the murder video and passed it around social media platforms.