15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers)

by Luis Samways

  We were heading back to the border crossing. It was only four days ago that I had been sneaking into the crossing, and now I was speeding out of it.

  We drove down a long straight, and I saw the border crossing in the horizon. Part of me was a little upset at the idea of leaving Tijuana. Even though I had hated almost every second in that godforsaken place, part of me felt free there. Even when I was being held in that van. There was a certain freedom to the place that America lacked. I knew that L.A. was my home, but there were too many formalities. In Mexico I could just live the rest of my days in peace. Even if I wasn’t exactly sure how long the rest of my days would be, at least I had the comfort of knowing that in Mexico, it was me, myself, and I. Maybe those two girls on the corner could have tagged along. It was dumb, really. It was all pipe dreams. The reality of it was, I was stuck in a dilemma. No matter the outcome, I was going to be judged, be it by the courts or by God himself. I knew my time was coming to an end. It had to. There was no way I could live with this condition, whatever that may be. I needed to know what it was. So I took some comfort in knowing that I would find out. I would know what I was. I would finally know why my heart stopped beating, but I remained alive and well.

  “Well” being a relative term, of course. I would call the past couple of days anything but “well”.

  “You seem distracted,” I heard the marshal say out of the blue.

  “Well, forgive me for mulling over my options.”

  The marshal cracked a smile as he finally slowed down. We were close to the crossing when he turned to me and tried to reassure me. “Look, Derrick. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll get you back to safety.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ll be as safe as you claim, sir.”

  That’s when the marshal gave me a wink and reached for another cigarette. “L.A. is the city of angels. I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

  Sixty-One

  “We’re here,” a voice said as I opened my eyes. I had fallen asleep again. For some reason, I had dozed off for the majority of the trip.

  “We made it over the border, then?” I asked as I refocused my eyes.

  The U.S. marshal was reaching into his jacket for another cigarette. The SUV smelled of stale smoke. He must have gone through a whole pack. There was a discarded and crumpled Marlboro Red pack of twenty on the dash. Cigarette ash had sprayed up the dashboard and glinted in the noontime sun.

  “Yeah, we made it just fine. We’re parked just outside the FBI building.”

  I looked around and saw a large high-rise building gleaming in the sun.

  “Where are we exactly?”

  “Wilshire Boulevard,” he said, getting out of the SUV. He stuck his head back into the car and said, “You’ll have to wait here. An armed escort will be coming to pick you up. My job here is done. It was nice meeting you,” he said.

  He was just about to close the door when I said, “Yeah, as nice as it is to escort wanted murderers back across the border.”

  “I’ve met plenty worse,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

  I saw the marshal walk up to a small booth. We were parked on the curb. I watched as the traffic went by. None of them knew who was inside the SUV. The only people who were aware of the occupant were the FBI. I wondered what the general public would think if they knew I was back on American soil. Would they cry foul, or would the people rejoice at my capture?

  The irony of it was that they had as much of an idea as I did as to what I was. The marshal had told me that some suspected me of being an alien, while others thought the doctor who took the polygraph on television was nothing but a loon. I had the same exact thought. I know it must have been hard for the man to contemplate a case in which a patient presents no vitals, yet is able to walk, talk, and live. I would’ve probably done the same thing. I’d go on TV shows trying to prove that I was right. But unfortunately for me, I didn’t have the foresight to do such a thing. Looking back, I should have handed myself in way before Chad and Mrs. Weaver died. Maybe then, they’d have no choice but to listen. But they were determined to pin me for murder. I didn’t know why, but I assumed that it was so they could experiment on me without worrying about my rights. If I was locked away in a cell, nobody would ask questions. They wouldn’t care about the man who claimed to be immortal. They’d just see a guy who was deranged and had murdered his friend. They’d believe whatever the authorities told them to believe.

  Who knows, maybe the FBI really didn’t care about what the doctor was saying. Maybe they just wanted to get a killer like me off the streets. It was unfortunate for me that I wasn’t no damn killer. It was unfortunate for me that I wasn’t anything. I had no pulse, and soon, I’d have no rights. They’d strip me of everything. For what purpose? I wasn’t entirely sure. I’d find out soon enough. Of that, I was certain.

  I saw around ten armed men coming toward the car. The marshal stepped aside to let them through. He was still talking to the man in the booth. He shot me a look from afar. I could tell he was a little confused. It seemed as if the police were going a little over the top with the whole expedition. They were wearing full combat gear and armor. They had breathing apparatus on. They had face shields and helmets on. They looked like something out of a science fiction movie. All I was missing was Spock beaming me back to safety. But Spock wasn’t going to pull through. I’d have to deal with this myself. There wasn’t any getting out of this one. The starship Enterprise was galaxies away.

  The heavily armed men reached the SUV, and one of them opened the door on my side.

  “Come with us,” a robotic-sounding voice said. It was coming from beneath a thick black helmet that had an orange visor on it. I could see my reflection bouncing off its surface.

  I was about to get out of the car when I noticed that I was still handcuffed to the cup holder. “I can’t — I’m still attached to the — ” I was interrupted by the heavily armed man in the black helmet leaning over me. He wrapped his hands around the cuffs and pulled. The cup holder cracked and split in two.

  “Come with us now,” he said, his voice still sounding monotone.

  I stepped out of the SUV, the cuffs still attached to my left wrist. I was pushed to the side, and the heavily armed man frisked me. He nodded his head toward the other armed and masked men. Suddenly, I felt a pinch in my neck. I turned my head to see the man pushing a metal stick into me. It had prongs on the end. They were digging into my skin. And then suddenly they came alive with electricity. My vision went black, and I hit the deck.

  I was out cold.

  Sixty-Two

  The blackness subsided, and my head began to ring. I could hear a pulsating rhythm. It sounded like an electrical current running through something. I opened my eyes and saw a man standing over me. He had a white lab coat on. He was holding a clipboard in his hands. We were in a darkened room. I couldn’t see anything beyond the man standing over me. I was tied down to a chair. My wrists were fastened, my legs clasped. My neck was being pulled back by a rope. I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch.

  “Alone at last,” the man said. His coat was swaying a little. The ends were riding up and flapping about. I felt some cold air rush up my neck. Somebody had switched something on. It was blowing cold air into the room.

  “Nice and cool. Nice and cool,” the guy said as he took a few steps closer.

  The man had a monocle in his right eye. He had a large scar running down the left side of his face. It disappeared into a bushy beard that had white specks that meshed in with the natural black color of the hair.

  “Don’t you feel more relaxed when the air is a little cooler?” he said, bending down to my eye line and showing me his smile. He had two perfect rows of white teeth. They gleamed as he spoke. “I personally think cold air is a luxury. Without it, we’d all boil. We’d all die of sunstroke. We’d be covered in blisters and warts. Skin cancer would be rampant. Yet, I see people have an obsession with heat. It’s as if they like the sun. I don�
�t like the heat. Feeling warm and fuzzy on the inside is just fine. But sweating your ass cheeks off is another thing altogether.”

  The guy stepped away from me and turned to a cart that sat next to us. I saw a monitor on the top of the cart and a bag placed next to it. He reached into the bag and pulled out a stethoscope.

  “I do my best work when it’s cool. That’s why hospitals are my favorite places. Most hospitals in this beautiful country of ours tend to have very good air conditioning. I can’t stand sweat forming on my brow when I am working. I usually demand that there be some sort of cooling in my place of work. I guess that’s why they obliged when they fitted in a 250-grand air filter in this room. Usually this room isn’t used for much but storage. But seeing that this room is both your new home and my place of work, I guess it makes sense that we are comfortable in our surroundings.”

  I blinked a few times. I was feeling disoriented. The guy’s voice was hypnotic, yet grating. I didn’t trust him. I knew he was one of the bad guys. He had a certain way about him. He was much like the man in the white suit. Something was telling me to never trust anybody in white again. Seeing this guy was wearing a white lab coat, I was sure that I could hold that rule in the same regard.

  “I must say, we have gone to great lengths in securing your capture. It means a lot to us,” he said.

  I decided to cut in. I was fed up with hearing this guy’s voice. “Who’s ‘us’?” I snapped.

  The man cocked his head a little, like a dog that doesn’t quite understand what you’re saying. “Hush. Don’t get stressed. I don’t want to risk your organs. I don’t want whatever is keeping you alive to suddenly make you dead.”

  He moved closer and placed his stethoscope on my chest. My shirt had been ripped off, revealing the purple bruising from a few days ago when they attempted to revive me.

  “Interesting. I guess it isn’t your heart that’s keeping you alive. I wonder what we can deduce from that? Maybe you are an alien after all!” He grinned.

  He turned his back on me and pulled the cart closer. The A/C behind me was making a racket. It was spraying more cold air up my back. I was squirming, but the restraints made it nearly impossible to move.

  “Don’t fight it. You won’t want me to make a fatal error, now, would you?”

  He grabbed some cables from the cart and started sticking them down on my head. He placed some on the front of my skull and some on the sides. He then switched on the monitor.

  “Relax. This won’t hurt, unless you make me hurt you,” he said, the monitor sounding off, bringing an image to life on a small screen.

  Sixty-Three

  I watched as a few guards entered the room. They were all watching from afar. Their orange-tinged visors glowed in the dark. I felt like I was on board an unfamiliar UFO. I felt as if the probing was just moments away.

  I looked up at the monitor that was placed on the cart next to the doctor and me. He was paying close attention to its readouts. I couldn’t decipher exactly what a normal head-scanning monitor readout looked like, but judging by the reactions I saw on his face, he was rather impressed with the findings. He stood there for a few minutes, “ahhing” at every moment, jotting down notes. I squirmed a few times, but he didn’t care. He knew I was bound and clasped. He knew I was no threat to him. That and the ever-watchful eyes of the guards in the doorway kept him feeling safe while making me feel fear deep within my core.

  I was coming to the conclusion that I was right. Somehow, the government wanted to test me. They wanted to hold me against my will. I was their new pet guinea pig. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Looks marvelous to me,” the guy said, turning to face me, his lab coat floating in the air as he turned, soon settling back to its taut hanging position afterward. “I don’t know about you, but I’m impressed you made it this far! I didn’t think that a young man like yourself could survive on the run. But, by golly, you did it. Your only mistake was to think we wouldn’t get you. Thinking you were invincible was your downfall. You see, your body may be a medical miracle, but you, son, belong to me. Not God.”

  He turned back around and started rummaging through his belongings again. I saw a few more guards entering the room.

  “I’m not going anywhere. No use in trying to scare me!” I shouted.

  The guy in the lab coat turned his head and nodded. “Oh, that’s so true. It’s so true, in fact, it’s sad. I do pity you a little. If only you hadn’t risen from the dead like Jesus himself, then maybe you wouldn’t be prosecuted!”

  I wiggled in the chair as the anger that I felt flooded my system. “I did not choose this! I didn’t know this would happen. You think I just thought to myself one day, ‘Hey, here’s an idea — why don’t I die in a half-marathon and rise from the dead? Won’t that be a kick in the head?’”

  The guy shook his head and knelt on one knee, bringing his stare parallel with mine. He had a glint in his eye when he said, “We don’t choose our fates, Derrick. We just make them. Everything you did leading up to this was your choice. We didn’t make you die. We didn’t make you resurrect. Our only job here is to find out why. I don’t care about the crimes you committed. I am not here to judge you. I’m here to dissect you. I’m here to understand you. If you have a problem with that, than I suggest you get real acquainted with disappointment, because you and it will be spending a whole lot of time together for the foreseeable future.”

  Sixty-Four

  The man in the lab coat undid my restraints. Suddenly, three armed guards swarmed around me.

  “Get up and follow the good doctor,” one of the armed men said, with that same robotic tone the one who’d spoken to me earlier had.

  I got up. My legs felt wobbly. The ground underneath me felt uneven as I attempted to walk. Something was holding me back. I didn’t know what, but I turned around to see what was pulling on me. I saw nothing. It was all in my head. When I turned my head again to face the “good doctor,” I saw a huge flash of light pulsate in my vision. It was as if the inside of my head had exploded with a brilliant light that jerked and pulled on me. I shook my head violently, my neck cracking as I did so. I dropped to one knee and held my hand over my eyes.

  “The light! It’s bright, it’s too bright!” I said.

  The doctor grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back up. “Stop messing around and get to your feet. I haven’t got time for your games. We have a schedule to keep, and the President would be mighty pissed if he found us lollygagging like we are,” he said, pulling me again.

  I nearly stumbled as my eyes returned to their normal state. The bright light I’d seen was enormous in size, but it was apparent that I was the only one who’d seen it. No one in the room had shielded their eyes. It was just me. I started to wonder if I was going insane. It had to be that. I mean, who else sees a pulsating light flash before their very eyes? I must admit, for those few seconds that the light shone, I felt some sort of peace within me. It was as if all my troubles were evaporating into nothingness. I was free for those few seconds, but the darkness of the room had returned me to reality. The prodding from the guards had reminded me of my fate. As the doctor had told me, fate was what we make. And I guess I was ready to make my fate that day. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I was determined to escape my fear, to get away from the fate the government was so obviously interested in forcing on me.

  I didn’t want anything to do with their “fate.” I was only interested in one thing; getting out of there.

  “You see that piece of apparatus over there?” the doctor said, pointing to a treadmill in the corner of the room. One of the guards had turned on a low-level light near the machine, showing it for the first time. It seemed that the whole room was a little less dark now. I could see other machines. I didn’t know what they were, but I had a feeling that I would be finding out what they did shortly.

  “Yes, I see the treadmill,” I replied, my resolve slowly leaving me. I felt flattened by my reality. It was as if all ho
pe was lost. But the light I had seen seconds ago kept me safe. It was like a beacon inside me, pulsing where my heart should be, or, to be more precise, where my soul once was.

  “Yes, yes, that’s a treadmill. You ought to know. In a previous life, you were a runner, so you shouldn’t have any trouble working that machine out. The difference between this machine and the one you most likely used in a gym is that this particular apparatus is a state-of-the-art stress-test machine. I’ll be able to monitor your vitals, or lack thereof. I’ll be able to see what makes you tick, so to speak. After your session on the running machine, we may be a little closer to understanding what exactly you are.”

  He pushed me toward the stress-test machine. I looked at it and said, “What if I don’t indulge you in your mad scientist routine? What if I say no?”

  I turned my head to see the man in the lab coat smile. “Oh, that won’t be a problem. I’m sure you’ll cooperate. I mean, if you don’t, the people you know and love will suffer. Make no mistake about it.”

  “You’d better not hurt my family, or I’ll kill every single one of you!” I yelled.

  The doctor gently put his hand on my shoulder, as if to mock me with false sympathy. “I can assure you, Derrick, the only person who has the power to hurt your family is you. You remember what happened to Chad and his mom, don’t you?”

  I shoved his hand off my shoulder and said, “That wasn’t my fault!”

  He nodded and looked at the three guards standing next to the treadmill. Their visors were glowing orange as they stood tall like high-rise buildings.

  “If your family suffers, know it’s because you didn’t cooperate. Now do as you’re told.”

  Sixty-Five

  Twenty minutes passed. I had been running on the treadmill for a good three-quarters of those twenty minutes. The other five minutes were used to stick all sorts of sensors on me. Some of them I had never seen before in my life. Others I recognized from before. While I was running, the light in my eyes grew brighter. I was paranoid that the guards and the mad doctor could see the light, but judging by their lack of questions about the phenomenon, I was starting to think they were oblivious to it.