by catt dahman
Janice said maybe David was brought into the murders, but his family had been in the town for decades. The other three somehow fit into the situation. “Drink what water there is. We don’t want to get dehydrated. Rest. We have to stay strong. Maybe it isn’t as bad as we think. Maybe they are making David do this.”
“Riiiiight, nursie,” Dana cackled.
Vivian wondered what the hell Janice was talking about.
David brought water to them and patiently carried away the basins that were dirtied, washed them, and returned them. He brought toilet paper for them, but he didn’t say a word. He looked at Janice and then at Charlene for a while, his eyes narrowed. “I knew your mama, Charlene. About…let’s see…nine years ago? We were fourteen, and I was awful crazy about her. She left town a few months after we dated, not vanishing like some girls,” he said as he winked.
He smiled a little and said, “She didn’t come back for four years, and what did she return with? A little girl. She married Tobias right fast and that was that. I didn’t blame Debbie, and I didn’t hate her, so I didn’t tell my daddy. That’s why you’re here with me and why no one will touch you.”
“What’s he saying?” Charlene tried to slide closer to Christy.
“Nothing. He’s just talking, Honey. Don’t listen,” Vivian said.
David talked a while and left. Vivian held Janice and wept with fear.
Hours passed.
There was a shuffling and then more noise at the door. Dread seeped into the women and children’s bones as they waited to see who was at the door and what was going to happen.
Ronnie came alone to the basement, kicking the women away and grabbing Nina while he ignored the screams of the other women and children. “Lucy wants her. Shut up. David will come for one of you soon enough, so shut up and be glad you’re still alive.” He tried to get Nina to her feet, wondering why Lucy wanted such a sad sack with no spirit or focus, but no one ever understood Lucy.
She was as strange as ever, but David had started molding her into a better house-cleaner and cook. The house was kept clean now, and Lucy, despite needing a few adjustments, did want cleanliness at her core.
Vivian uncoiled like a snake, launching herself at Ronnie with her fingernails digging into his face. A punch almost stopped her fight, but it went to her ribs instead of her stomach, so she kept fighting. Janice grabbed his legs, causing him to fall on the hard floor.
Nina teetered on her feet as Ronnie lost his grip. Blood streamed down her legs as the bottom of her pajama top turned red. It was almost impossible to tell the pajama top had ever been a soft shade of pink.
Dana used her shackles to beat at Ronnie as he fell, but the shackles were not good weapons, so she imagined she had a knife and slammed her arms down. Vivian clawed, dug, felt a pop, but kept scratching.
Ronnie slapped at Vivian’s hands and rolled to his hands and knees. One hand reached back to his waistband and snagged the revolver he had taken from Vivian. Blindly, he fired the gun several times. The noise deafened everyone.
Vivian screamed, and again dug at his eyes with one hand. She knew she was screaming, but couldn’t hear herself.
The revolver flew to the other side of the basement.
“You, bitch,” Ronnie screamed, along with the women, rolling until he was out of the reach of their shackles, “all of you are going to suffer.”
“We already have,” Janice yelled back, hearing him, “do what you want, but now you can do it one-eyed, you bastard.”
Ronnie pulled his hand back from his eye. He felt blood, slick and hot, on his face, as well as another stringy blob that made his stomach queasy. He had never felt such pain as the sharp stabbing that roared through his eye socket and into his brain. He couldn’t see with that eye.
Stumbling several times, Ronnie got to his feet, and after taking several tries to grab the gun that he had dropped, he fought to see clearly. His vision was ruined by a lack of depth perception. “I should shoot you.”
“Then do it. Do whatever you want,” Vivian snapped, holding her arms and hand close. She stared at the man holding her gun and dared him. He wouldn’t do it for fear of David and Lucy. She hoped.
“I choose you. I am going to make you scream for days,” Ronnie promised Vivian.
Dana spat at him.
As soon as Ronnie left the basement, they knew he would return soon with his two friends, and then there would be more trouble. Janice looked around and asked, “Is everyone okay?”
“Nina isn’t moving.”
Janice stretched and moved closer. The child wasn’t breathing; Janice moved her gently and saw that Nina was soaked in blood. “When he shot the gun, the bullet hit her. She’s dead.”
“It may be better than what Lucy intended. Poor thing,” Dana said.
Vivian sat back, “I’m shot.”
“Our rescue team is shot? Ain’t that a riot?” Dana chuckled wildly.
Janice scooted back to Vivian. Her sister-in-law was actually shot twice. The first bullet left an ugly gash across Vivian’s shoulder that bled a little but wasn’t bad; it was only a graze but looked as if a long streak were burned on her; it smelled charred. The second shot was worse. The bullet caught her wrist just below the hard shackle and shattered part of the wrist bone.
“I know it hurts,” Janice said.
“Wait,” Vivian said. Janice held a strip of cloth that she was going to use to bind the wound, but she stopped, puzzled.
Vivian narrowed her eyes and breathed in and out as slowly and calmly as she could. The rest, who watched, could actually hear her gritting her teeth and grinding. She felt a back molar crack and chip and then spit out the tiny piece of her back tooth.
“Oh, Viv....”
Ignoring the sympathy and very slowly and gasping with pain, she slid her mangled hand against the leather and pressed the tattered flesh, using the slick blood to slip free.
Black dots swam in her vision. If she passed out and missed their only chance, she figured they would all die. But first, she would scream for days as Ronnie promised.
She shivered and jerked hard. The ruined bones roared as nerves fired off and pain engulfed her, but with a tiny plip, her wrist slipped out of the old-fashioned cuff. For a second, she was shocked and stared at her freed hand.
Janice quickly wrapped the wrist, securing the bandage carefully.
“Holy shit,” Dana said. She thought Vivian was a waste of oxygen for being caught, but now watching, she was impressed. “That’s tough.”
Vivian scrambled to her feet and quickly began searching through the room. Ronnie had failed to lock every door behind him. Vivian found several wires that she handed out, instructing the captives to pick their locks.
Jillian Berger didn’t stop her endless staring into the corner; Vivian rubbed Jillian’s arms and tried to talk to her, but Jillian showed no response.
One handed, Vivian worked Christy’s ropes, getting Janice to help with her one free hand. It seemed impossible, but Vivian dug her fingers into the rope, ignoring the pain, and loosened the knots as her fingertips bled. She wiped her hand on her shirt.
Christy did as told and worked to free Charlene.
“Janice, I can’t get you out without a key. You’ve got to pick the locks, you and Dana. Don’t stop.
When you get free, you run, hear me? I am going to take Charlene and Christy and run like hell for help. I’m going across the area and not down the road, okay?”
“Go; Just go, and get us some help, Viv.”
Dana stopped trying to pick her locks for second. “Hey, deputy, you’re kind of bad-ass. Get us out of here, okay?”
“You bet.”
Vivian told Christy to hold Charlene’s hand and follow her. Nervously, she went through the doors, glad Ronnie had been in too much pain to remember to lock them. She could feel the pressure; time was moving way too fast. In the barn, Vivian grabbed a pitchfork from the wall and tried to use it one-handed, but it was impossible; she would
have to swallow the pain and use both hands.
“When I open the door, no matter what, you and Charlene run as fast as you can. Don’t run down the road, or they’ll follow. You run across and down and head way off towards the bridge,” she almost added ‘the bridge where the poor boy was shot”.
“Okay. Then what?”
“You hide if you hear anyone or anything. Then, quickly and quietly go towards the campgrounds and find an adult and ask him to call for help. Don’t stop for anyone or anything.”
“Go with us, Vivian. I’m scared.”
“If I can, I’ll follow.” Vivian swung the door open and hissed, “Go.”
Close to the house, Ronnie was pacing, his head bandaged. Closer towards them came Lucy and David, furious and ready for payback. Ronnie lunged, as if to run after the girls, but he stopped and put both hands to his head and wailed with pain.
Vivian only guessed what was wrong and went by what she was fairly sure she saw. When she fought Ronnie, she had raked out one of his eyes. He was hurting.
“That bitch got out. Get those kids,” Lucy yelled and ran at Vivian.
Vivian turned away from watching Charlene and Christy run. If they were given a few minutes, they would make it. Vivian smiled to herself and pulled the pitchfork up against her sore ribs and held on as tightly as possible with one ruined hand and one good hand with bleeding fingertips. To Lucy, it looked as if the blood-covered woman was grinning manically, and it stunned her for a second to see the fury.
Cars pulled into the driveway, lighting up the night.
Ronnie fired the revolver at the people who yelled at them to stand still.
David ran towards the barn.
Vivian knew they were saved; it was over. She gulped a breath and ran at Lucy. Vivian wasn’t finished.
Chapter Twelve: Blood
At the station, Virgil asked again where Vivian was, and Joey wondered why Janice was late. They had been gone for six hours, and it was getting late.
“Are you sure Janice is with Viv?” Joey asked Nick.
“Positive,” he said as he patted his brother’s back, dispelling worries she was with another man.
Virgil tried to read his notes again. His hands tapped imaginary piano keys. He paused as he, in his mind, hit a C note.
C.
See.
What was he supposed to see?
“Tina, those folders…any names come up a lot?”
“Names? Let me see….”she muttered names at random, and then repeated one, “I have the Gaithers. Aaron Gaither’s wife and daughter supposedly left…marital issues, but her parents reported she never came to their house and that they never saw her again. Open case, but cold. I remember how he always came to the house and treated my colds and stuff; he was so nice.”
“And the other?”
“In my notes, Aaron’s father was also a doctor, Dr. Nathan Gaither. His daughter and son also were reported as runaways. “His wife,” said Tina as she pulled the file, “ was found slaughtered, but the death was ruled a suicide. Damn. The sheriff back then made a few notes about Nathan’s being covered in blood, but that’s it.”
Kurt tilted his head and said, “I went to school with David Gaither. Weird guy. He was a big-time loner who always stayed to himself: reading or sitting in a corner. We had a few classes together. When we were in maybe the first of high school, we had a woman teacher who adored David. He was totally the class pet, and then she gave David a bad time. Really railed at him. Then, we heard she ran off, and some of the gossip was she was pregnant.”
“All these reports were in clusters. In fact, each time an incident was reported about a bunch of runaways or missing people, Aaron
Gaither and Nathan Gaither’s names came up. And they were twenty to thirty years old.”
“Doesn’t Gaither’s land butt right up to the river? Right where the boy was shot?” Virgil asked.
“Yeah. And the land,” Kurt leaned over a map of the county, “runs right into the campgrounds.”
“We were at the Gaither’s, Virgil. Vivian and I went there, and we met this Doctor Estell and a crazy woman that he was treating for some mental issue. David told us she was there with the doctor and her brother…her brother…Stan,” Tina suddenly said.
“Stan?” Virgil asked.
“Yeah. I’m sure that was what he said. I just thought of that.”
“Sheriff Harding was trying to tell me something. I know he was. He was saying to walk and talk the case. Why? He wanted me to walk a long way over to the Gaither’s place and talk. My God, what if they were there at the house and hunting victims in their own backyard? Don’t killers start with places that are familiar and safe?”
Joey went pale, “Janice said she and Viv were going to see a doctor and get some advice. Doctor Estell? Virgil?”
“They’ve gone to the Gaither’s and haven’t come back. Tina, call those FBI men at their hotel and tell them where we’re going. I want you carrying a shotgun and your side arms. Kurt, take the rifle. We roll on five.”
Kurt took the Winchester Model 70 from the armory, caressing the glossy walnut stock. It was a beauty with a twenty-four inch blued steel barrel and an unusual Unertl 8x scope, the same scope that the newspapers reported was used by Carlos Hathcock, a sniper serving in Vietnam.
Virgil slapped his notes onto the desk: David Gaither-- white, young, smart, a loner, physically fit, army-trained, and socially inept, lived right next to the killing fields. He had hidden in plain sight. He had fit so perfectly that Virgil hadn’t even considered a town’s resident. Or had he? Hadn’t he been slowly piecing together that something or someone had been hunting in the town for decades?
Why were Vivian and Janice late?
Were they missing?
He managed to wait four minutes before he loaded up and rolled out with his deputies. Tina drove fast, but not fast enough.
“What are you playing in your head?” Tina asked, skidding around a corner.
“Nothing. I’m banging on the keys. Tina….”
“Last curve. Hang on. Oh shit, look at that.” Tina slammed on the breaks as they pulled into the drive with Nick and the rest beside them. Way back were the FBI agents, their lights flickering too far away.
“Stand down, David Gaither. Everyone stand down, and show me your hands,” Virgil yelled. In one quick snapshot of vision near the house, Virgil saw David Gaither, who was between the house and barn on the path, a woman close to David, and Vivian who was holding something, a stick maybe, but she was covered in blood. Her white shirt was stiff in some places and wet in others. A bandage flopped around her arm like a bright crimson flag.
The woman hardly looked like Vivian; her face was a mask of fury with eyes far away and focused on some other place that no one but she could see, and her mouth was set in a blood-chilling snarl. Virgil thought of a mama bear for some reason.
That was a split second.
The man by the house stepped into the light. His head was wrapped in a bandage of thick gauze, but where his eye should have been, a dark red stain seeped through. He fired a revolver at the deputies. At the same time, David Gaither ran toward the barn, weaving and dodging. One of the deputies might have shot him, but at that moment and to their shock, Vivian ran toward them while they dodged the gunfire and fired back at the man by the house.
On one side, Tina ignored the chaos and walked towards the man she knew as Doctor Estell. His gun clicked empty, and she held a hand up to call for a ceasefire.
“What now, bitch? You want me to do you like all the rest, huh?” He raised a hand and tore away his bandage. “Look what she did. She took my eye out! She took my eye. Come on. I’ll make you scream. I’ll fuck you and cut you and….” Ronnie screamed.
Tina calmly pulled the trigger of her Ithaca 37. “No more,” she said as she fired into his groin, and his screeches filled the night. He leaned over. Holding himself, he raised his face and one arm in surrender, maybe. Intestines began to uncoil. Maybe i
t was just a reaction to the agony of what he had done.
Tina covered the final five feet, pumped her shotgun, felt the shell bounce off her boot, and said, “And I got the other eye, you stupid bastard.” She blew his face away from twelve inches. Brains and blood vaporized as everything above his jaw vanished.
“On the ground. Show me your hands,” Virgil yelled at the girl, but it was too late.
Running, Vivian hit her full speed and drove the pitchfork into Lucy’s chest, pushing until Lucy was on her back on the ground, the handle of the pitchfork standing upright.
“Viv….” Virgil came to her, but her face didn’t change. Before he could say another word or reach for her, she turned and ran. Virgil had never seen anyone, even when he was back in school watching track meets, run like she ran. Her legs kicked out forever, grabbing distance and air and propelling her. She wasn’t just running; she was all-out chasing someone or something.
“Nick, with me,” Virgil yelled, and they both took off after her, but they didn’t have the speed of the wings of Mercury, but they stayed within view as they chased after her.
Tina motioned Joey and Kurt to come with her. Dan Smith and Ed Brewster joined, asking questions about the woman pinned by a pitchfork and the man with his head blown off, but Tina shushed them. She kicked open the barn door, entering with Kurt on one side and Joey on the other. She took point. “David Gaither? You’re under arrest.”
He stepped from the shadows with his hands raised and said, “As you wish.”
Tina cuffed him and pushed him out of the barn, making him lie down on the ground. “Where are the women and girls?”
“Dust to dust. We are of the earth. You can’t have them back, Deputy. I’m sorry.”
“Why? Just tell me why?” Tina begged.
“My great grandfather kept an orderly house, and messy things were done outside. He cleaned the outside messes when he had to. Have you ever noticed how there are messy people and loud, obnoxious people? It isn’t enough to clean your house, but you must clean all around. My grandfather, Nathan, kept a tidy house.”
“He killed people!”