15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers)

by Luis Samways

  David lowers his shotgun and steps forward a few paces towards the young guy called Tyrell.

  ‘Yeah man, I saw your friend. I’m afraid the gunshots you heard were those army guys shooting at us. Your friend came across us while running away from them and tried to warn us. Before we could do anything he took a stray bullet, but then we managed to fight them off,’ says David.

  ‘He’s dead?’ asks Tyrell, nearly in tears but trying to remain tough.

  ‘I’m afraid so kid,’ says Ray, patting him on the back.

  Ray and David try to comfort the kid some more and end up listening to the survival story of both Tyrell and Dwayne from the boy’s perspective.

  ‘Before we knew it, the guy we tried robbing ended up blowing up. He literally blew up in front of us. We heard some weird beeping sound and saw this light on his wrist, and then he exploded. We then noticed the same light thing on our wrist, so we rushed underground. We thought we would be safer,’ says Tyrell.

  ‘Seems like you been through the mills little dude,’ says David

  ‘You telling me man’

  Suddenly some laughter can be heard from the furthest corner of the makeshift sewer camp. It’s the captured army guy. His sadistic smile can be seen from where David and the other two men stand.

  ‘I shot your fucking friend kid. I did it. The bitch went down like a sack of potatoes. I enjoyed it too. Maybe when I escape I’ll cut your throat and then the two of you can have “homeboy” sex all the way up in heaven,’ says the captured prisoner.

  ‘What the fuck? That’s the guy who shot Dwayne?’ asks Tyrell

  ‘Yeah, we gather anyway. He also tried killing us. He’s our prisoner, so he’s off limits. We are using him to find out information on these scumbags that are taking over the city. Apparently they are responsible for the exploding people’

  ‘We can’t just keep a killer tied up like that. We need him buried. We need him dead,’ says Tyrell.

  David and Ray look at each other in confusion.

  ‘Who said anything about “we” kid? You’re welcome to stay here but understand this. Me and Ray are the boss’s around here. What we say goes. We make the decisions regarding what happens to prisoners around here,’ says David

  Tyrell shakes his head in disbelief.

  ‘Prisoners? Theirs more than one?’

  ‘Well, there is only one of them, but we do have another prisoner. He’s nothing to do with the covert army’

  ‘So what did he do then?’

  ‘He’s a suspected paedophile,’ says Ray

  ‘Well isn’t this a happy camp of sickos!’ says Tyrell

  Both David and Ray laugh to ease the tension a little.

  ‘We do our best to get by,’ says Ray

  Ten

  Albany New York

  ‘You sure you don’t want to stay for a few more days?’ Asks Clare

  Mrs Novik shakes her head as she gathers her belongings out from the white van she had spent the night in. In the van are two mattresses, one for her and the other for Clare who uses the van as a shelter. They had stayed in the van all night, most of it was spent swapping stories about the things they had seen and the places they had been to. Clare had found the story about Mrs Novik’s husband most interesting. The hostility that the two women found themselves in when they first met had surly gone by now and all that remained was the start of a friendship. Mrs Novik didn’t really want to be friends with anyone. She didn’t want that kind of baggage. She figured that if things went south, then looking after a person and making sure they got to safety just makes her more eligible to die herself. Mrs Novik just doesn’t want the hassle.

  ‘I’m okay Clare, but thanks for the offer. I really needed someone to talk to,’ she says

  ‘Don’t worry about it Angelina. You’re welcome to come back anytime you want’

  The two of them stay silent for a while as Mrs Novik continues to gather her possessions, filling up the rucksack that Clare had given her with the supplies that she had managed to scavenge.

  They both kiss each other of the cheek.

  ‘I guess I’ll see you around. Thanks once again Clare’

  Mrs Novik turns around to walk away from the van when a man with a gun steps in front of her. He had managed to jump out from behind a parked family SUV. It happened so quick that Clare was still smiling until she realised what was happening.

  ‘Fucking move and I’ll kill the both of you,’ says the scraggy looking man who’s brandishing an equally unclean looking 9mm.

  ‘Please don’t kill me,’ says Mrs Novik

  ‘If you move I will,’ says the man.

  Mrs Novik is partially blocking the view of the man’s face. Clare moves a little to the left to try and get a glimpse of what is happening.

  ‘I said don’t move. That includes you near the van! If you move, the bitch gets it,’ he says

  ‘Please!’ says Mrs Novik

  Suddenly the man hits the floor as the sound of a loud gunshot ricochets off the Albany skyscrapers around them. A pool of blood oozes out of the man’s skull. The bullet had hit him right in the middle of the head. It was a crack shot if Mrs Novik had ever seen one. She turns around in shock and see’s Clare holster a heavy looking pistol.

  ‘Always carry a gun,’ says Clare unapologetically. ‘It’s a dangerous world out there,’ she says, brushing her hair out of her face.

  Eleven

  London, England

  Steven Grimshaw has just finished packing his suitcase. He has put enough clothes in his luggage to last a good lifetime. The scene unfolding in front of his wife is one that is hard to believe. She didn’t expect her husband to get back so soon, and she certainly didn’t expect him to be on edge. She had never seen him like this before. She never knew her husband to have fear or be rattled in any way, but today it was obvious that he was experiencing both of these senses at a heightened state.

  ‘Why are you packing clothes Steven? What happened?’ she asks, a little scared at what she might hear in response.

  Steven grunts in frustration.

  ‘Can’t you see why? Can’t you understand what the hell is going on woman?’ he says.

  His wife isn’t used to hearing him in such a manor. She has never heard him speak to her like this before. If she wasn’t so scared she would tell him where to stick his chauvinistic comments.

  ‘Why are you covered in dirt?’ she asks, not used to seeing her husband in such a state. Usually he would be wearing a suit with grace, but today he looks like a bomb victim of some sorts, which wouldn’t be too far from the truth, if only she knew what the truth was.

  ‘Uh, I don’t know. Maybe it was something to do with the explosion I witnessed down the barber shop. Don’t you think that me being so close to it that I might just get a tad dirty?’ he says sarcastically.

  ‘Explosion?’ she says, petrified at the realisation of what her husband has been through.

  ‘Yeah. I told you I was down the police station didn’t I?’ he says

  ‘Yeah but I gathered that you might have been arrested for tailing a perp’

  ‘Why would I be arrested for that?’ he asks

  ‘I don’t know,’ she says

  ‘Look, just get your clothes and some other supplies, we need to leave the city,’ he says

  ‘But why? I thought the police let you go?’ she asks

  ‘They did, but then when I left the police station blew up as well,’ he says

  The look on his wife’s face is one of complete shock. She doesn’t know how to perceive what her husband is telling her.

  ‘What?’ she says

  ‘They are going to pin it on me, I just know it! They tried to pin the barber shop explosion on me, and now I bet they will try and pin the police station explosion on me as well!’

  ‘But why would they do that?’

  Steven shakes his head in frustration. He can’t believe the amount of questions his wife is asking him. In his head he had imagined that the
conversation would have gone down differently. In the movies people listen to people when they say something bad is going to happen, but to Steven’s dismay, even with half the debris of London on his clothes, his wife still doubts him.

  ‘Steven?’ she says

  ‘Just bloody get the clothes and pack some supplies. I’m not going to tell you again. I’m leaving in a bit and if you’re not packed then I’ll leave you behind,’ he says

  His wife nods her head and quickly gets a move on. After ten minutes of packing and sorting, Mr Grimshaw is in their car on their driveway and Mrs Grimshaw is putting the luggage in the trunk. After a few more minutes, they are leaving the driveway and speeding off towards the M5.

  Twelve

  New Jersey, East Rutherford, Met Life Stadium

  Sammy Banes is standing over the pile of massacred survivors that the group managed to gather ready for cremation. The atmosphere isn’t one of happiness which that much is obvious. It is an atmosphere of pain, anguish, anger and the need for revenge. It’s a feeling that is both unanimous and universal. It is a feeling that Sammy has felt ever since he had witnessed his Super Bowl winning team blow up on the field no less than forty eight hours prior. It’s the same feeling he felt when an army of men rushed the survivors hunkering below MetLife stadium and opened fire on them. Although some of the dead contain the unknown soldiers that attacked them, they won’t be burned like the survivors. They will be left to rot in the spots that they were defeated on until nothing but bones is left. The smell will be intolerable, but it will serve as a reminder of their victory. He and the rest of the survivors, all one hundred plus of them have agreed with the idea of leaving the dead attackers to rot. It was an easy decision gathering the fact that they have other areas below the stadium in which they can set up a more permanent camp.

  Sammy continues to stare at the dead. Some female, others male, some adult and a few others are children. It’s not something he is used to. Death has become something of the norm now in the past couple of days. He knows that he needs to stay underground if he wants to remain one of the lucky few to breathe in air, or if he makes a mistake, the next thing he could be breathing in could be his last breath.

  ‘So we burn them?’ a woman says from behind him

  ‘Yeah, we burn them,’ he says

  The woman starts to cry out loud. The wallowing of her screams rattles Sammy to the core.

  ‘Will my children feel the heat in heaven?’ she says, still crying. A man goes over to comfort her. The rest of the group of survivors remain scattered. Some are paying their respects from afar; others haven’t bothered to pay any at all.

  ‘I don’t know mam,’ says Sammy

  ‘Will they feel the fire?’ she says again

  ‘I don’t know’

  Sammy just doesn’t know what to say. He wonders if it should be him to put the flame to the victims, or if it should be someone else. It’s not exactly a decision that anyone has offered to make, and Sammy doesn’t want to seem eager in burning children and adults, no matter if they are dead or not. Principle is principle after all.

  ‘Should I burn them?’ he finally asks

  No one dares to say one word. Sammy takes the silence as answer enough and bends over to grab the jerry can full of gas that he got from the generator room earlier on. He starts pouring the contents of the jerry can onto the heaped pile of bodies. After a few minutes of soaking the bodies through, he throws the can onto the pile and strikes a match. He watches the flame for a second or two and then flicks the burning match onto the bodies, immediately setting them ablaze.

  Thirteen

  ‘Please don’t leave me in here! I’m claustrophobic!’ Miss Harriet screams as she is bundled into the dark room.

  ‘You’ve been a bad girl. You will be punished,’ says the guard who pushes her into the room as he slaps some handcuffs on her.

  ‘I beg you, please don’t kill me,’ she says

  The guard laughs.

  ‘Oh no, I’m not going to kill you, before I do that, the boss said I can have some fun with you first!’ he says while forcing her onto a wooden stool.

  The room she is in is dark beyond normal. It is as if it was made that way, and judging by the blood stains on the walls and smearing on the floor, she isn’t the first person to have had the pleasure of staying in this particular dungeon.

  ‘So you’re not going to kill me?’ she asks

  ‘Nope, not yet anyway,’ he says, wrapping some chains around her torso, confining her arms and shoulders so she can’t move.

  ‘Not so tight!’ she screams

  ‘I’ll put it on tighter if you don’t shut the fuck up lady!’

  She nods her head as she looks up at the burly guard in a pleading fashion. Her hair dangles down her face freely, the dirt and grime is making it stick to her forehead. The feeling in the pit of her stomach is one of tremendous fear, and the only thing she can hear beside the constant chatter from the guard bounding her up, in the thudding of her heart.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  ‘This won’t hurt,’ he says as he takes out a bandanna from his back pocket and stuffs it into her mouth. She tries to scream but the bandanna muffles the sound.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  ‘But this will…,’ the man screams, as he punches her square in the jaw a few times.

  Thump thump thump thump thump thump

  Fourteen

  ‘Sir, the National Guard have captured a covert army grunt. They are wondering if you want him interrogated,’ says the Whitehouse advisor standing in front of the Oval Office desk.

  The President’s expression changes from a placid look to one of excitement and bewilderment.

  ‘What do you mean captured?’

  ‘The National Guard managed to capture an unwounded soldier. He surrendered after the blast in Manhattan. Most of his fellow fighters were killed in the blast. He is literally all that remains’

  ‘Yes, interrogate him. I’m giving the National Guard full powers of interrogation. That includes but is not limited to torture. Get all the information you can out of this son of a bitch. Hopefully he can give us the location of this militant group’

  The Whitehouse advisor looks a bit nervous as he listens to what the President has to say regarding the capture of the prisoner. The man’s face begins to twitch a little and he starts to rub his hands down his side. President Harriet soon picks up on it and throws him a pandering look.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asks bluntly

  ‘I just didn’t know we could torture him, that’s all,’ the man says

  ‘The Geneva convention act is null and void at the minute considering the possibility of these certain individuals being responsible for the outbreak of these so called beacons, and not to mention the fact that they are waging war on the streets of New York. I think a little torture will do us good in the long run. Command has informed us that an A12 missile was detected in the southern axis of the country. The heat signature was picked up, but we don’t know where it was fired from. We do know however that the missile failed for some reason and dropped out of the sky. It landed in a farm somewhere in Nebraska. The Marines have dispatched a bomb expert down to the farm so we can determine where it came from and how far it travelled before it duded out. We are this close to finding out where the enemy is based, and if we have any luck; the missile was fired from the same location in which they are based in. If we can get that information from the A12 or the captured prisoner, either way we will bring the war effort to our side, and maybe, just maybe we can stop this before it becomes the last thing we do’

  The man nods his head and smiles nervously.

  ‘I’ll tell the National Guard that they have our full support on this,’ he says

  Fifteen

  Mrs Novik is staring at the dead man on the highway. She is feeling unsure of herself and the surroundings she finds herself in. Clare on the other hand is holstering the pistol she shot the man with.

 
‘You killed many people?’ asks Clare

  The question shocks Mrs Novik

  ‘No of course I haven’t! What made you think I had anyway?’

  ‘I didn’t. I just thought I’d ask. You shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He was pointing a gun at us after all,’ she says

  ‘You could have shot him in the leg or something’

  ‘And then what? Have him shoot at me?’

  ‘Well no…’

  ‘Look Angelina, sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. If someone is threatening my life, or in this case, our lives, then action needs to be taken, rather him than us right?’

  ‘Right, I guess’

  ‘Right,’ says Clare

  Mrs Novik continues to stare at the man on the floor for a few more seconds until Clare pats her on the shoulder, snapping her out of the depression she was in for a split second.

  ‘I think you should stay the night. I mean, I think it would be best if me and you stick together for a while. Who knows what’s out there? We could be a good team,’ says Clare

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure I’d be real valuable shaking in the corner sucking my thumb at any sign of trouble,’ laughs Mrs Novik.

  ‘Someone’s got to do the thumb sucking around here!’ smiles Clare as she pats Mrs Novik on the shoulder once more.

  The two women smile at each other for the first time since they met. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad Mrs Novik thought.

  Sixteen

  Sergeant Richards swings his clenched fist at the man tied up to the chair. Richard’s knuckles crack on the man’s jaw, the covert army man lets out a whimper. He doesn’t cry out loud by any means, it’s obvious by the amount of pain the National Guard First Sergeant has dished out that the captured prisoner won’t break easily. After years and years of hanging with the hardest men in the military, Richards knows a lost cause when he sees one. He knows a prisoner who won’t break better than most mothers know their children and this particular prisoner will not break any time soon unless Richards can find something the man fears, and at this moment in time, one thing is for certain, the man doesn’t fear Richards.