The Uninvited (8 page)

Read The Uninvited Online

Authors: Mike Evans

Chapter 13

 

“Chief, I think you better call in some boys on their day off today. We are going to need them.”

“Oh my god, what, what do you see?”

“A crime scene, sir. The SUV is all kinds of banged up. There’s a man that I am hoping isn’t Isaac.”

“Why, is he hurt? Why don’t you give me some fucking information here?”

“Is he hurt? Yes, he is hurt. His head was chopped off. I don’t see the head anywhere, someone might have taken it as a trophy. This screams of the killer though. It is a brutal scene. I am going to get out and look, but you need to get someone besides me out here. We are going to need a search team and the quicker we can do this, the faster we can put it to bed and know what is going on."

The chief sat back in his chair, taking a deep breath. He’d met the kid a dozen times but for the life of him couldn’t think of one distinguishing mark that he had on his body or tattoo he could remember. “Initial thoughts?”

“There’s a trail of blood heading back deeper into the campground. My guess is that someone is carrying their trophy and it’s dripping as they are walking. There is blood all over the inside of his truck. There isn’t anyone else in there, but this place has been bloody. It looks to be a day old from the dried blood. Whatever happened is in the past by now.”

The Chief covered the phone’s receiver and screamed at the top of his lungs. “Bynum, DeBryan, Nulty get in here now.” When his yell fell on ears that were too busy watching the race he gripped the first thing he could sending it towards the wall and shattering his coffee cup into a thousand pieces. "I said, Get the fuck in here and do it now!”

The three appeared at the door looking around wildly. Nulty tried to smile but it looked more like he needed to have a movement. “Everything okay in here, Chief Lambert?”

Bynum choked on a laugh, “Yeah, he’s always throwing coffee cups on a Sunday.”

DeBryan had the most tenure and knew damn well to keep his mouth shut. The chief had seen some serious shit in his days and freaking out wasn’t something he typically did. “Last lap of the race. Sorry, chief. Sorry about that.”

The chief nodded and said, “I want you to call the next county over and tell them we need a chopper and all available resources that they can offer. Hardin just called. He’s a few hours away and called saying there is a decapitated white male in a state park, one that is closed currently, along with a crashed SUV and enough blood to paint a house with.”

Nulty ran off immediately to call and get them a ride. Bynum said, “So do you think it’s him again?”

Lambert nodded slowly yes and then no thinking about it, and said, “Well, for their sakes I pray that it isn’t.”

“Sorry sir, is there something else that we need to know here?”

“One of the people that more than likely was in the SUV was my goddaughter. The only reason Hardin found that so quick was because he can do magical things with LoJack and has connections from previous departments he's worked at there. They know the jobs that he is usually assigned to so he can skip through some of the bullshit political tape and just get locations.”

DeBryan said, “Sir, are you sure you want to go with on this? It isn’t going to be too personal, is it?”

The chief stood, pulling out his drawer and staring down at his Glock. He pulled it out checking that, yes, there was a bullet in. He attached it to his belt and to accompany that got his handcuffs and extra mags to clip on his left hip. “It doesn’t matter if it’s too personal. If she’s still out there, she’s been there at least a day from what it sounds like and has got to be horrified at what is going on. I pray that if the killer was out there that she got away from him.”

He heard Hardin again saying, “You definitely need to get out here, chief.”

“What? What else?”

“There is a camp ground I assume belongs to them. It’s been torn all to hell. I don’t see anyone here so I’m going to head back to the gates to meet everyone from the other counties.”

 

*****

 

The helicopter landed on the highway. They’d radioed saying they were going to drop in on the campground and Hardin had asked if they were fucking stupid. Finding the people he told them was as important as anything but the fact that there was evidence here, evidence in his mind that he could hopefully use to one day track down the killer, was as important, he told them, as finding the people. He knew the MO of the man that was doing this by now. The fact that they still had hopes of finding these kids alive was something that made him question how much these people had a grasp on reality. By the time that he made it to the edge of the park there were three other squad cars sitting there waiting for him.

Hardin made formal greeting with everyone, rushing through the pleasantries. One of the local county police put down a map on the hood and they started looking at entry and exit points. The officers showed him this was the way in and out, the entire thing circled around and ended up sending you back right here. He showed that there were some farm houses here and there but for the most part it was trees for as far as the eye could see with trails that had been woven over time by hikers and off road bikers, etc.

When the helicopter landed they divided up into the cars and started their ride to the horror show. They passed slowly by Isaac’s SUV and Hardin pointed it out to Lambert, who was riding shotgun with two of the deputies in back. , “If you look, it appears that he flipped the truck. There is damage that runs the top and both sides. It’s obvious that he ended up in the ditch and I'll save you the visual for yourself of seeing it but the inside of that is coated in dried blood. Whatever happened obviously wasn’t from the crash, it was a third party who had nothing but bad intentions. I’d assume even that he or she was the reason that they went off the roadside.”

Nulty leaned forward from the back seat laughing. “Wait, you think that the killer could be a woman?”

“We don’t find these people,” Hardin said, “until days usually after they have been dead and gone. Now couple that with the fact that it took multiple machete strikes on that young man’s neck to chop his head off and it would lead me to believe that every option needs to be explored.”

Bynum said, “Yeah but chicks aren’t serial killers. You probably know that by now right?"

“Yeah you’re right, what do I know? Have you ever heard of Elizabeth Bathory? They called her the Blood Countess. She lived around 1585.”

“No, of course not, why should I? Wait, let me guess, she killed a man?”

“No Bynum, she was more into the ladies…..well teenage peasants. She alone made this killer look like a pussy. As accurate as the numbers could be back then, she killed and tortured around six hundred and fifty girls. A little more in this century was The Giggling Nanny who killed four out of five of her ex-husbands, her mom, sister, and grandson.”

The three men stared at Hardin who never broke eye contact with the road. Lambert said, “Hey, are you shitting us? The Giggling Nanny?”

“Yeah she would laugh during interrogations. She was a real peach. Look up there, that’s the campsite.”

Nulty said, “Hey, so it’s just those two cases?”

“No those are just two that I thought of, I could list off another eight without thinking. If we assume that it’s a man, then we ignore every single detail being presented to us if it says that it is a woman. If you don’t look at every option then you won’t know what you are looking for until it’s too late. You find a woman that acts like a victim thinking it can’t be the killer and then baam,” he slammed his hands on the steering wheel, startling the three passengers with him, “and that is it and you are gone. She pulls out a gun and blows off the back of your head, or slices your throat open, or about a hundred painful ways I can think of to die.”

Lambert looked out the window, thinking that he’d been happy to trade anyone else here for a seat in their car. When they pulled up they saw the tent or what was left of it. There was only a third of it still standing. The men got out and started for the field. Hardin whistled to them when they turned around he tossed a box of blue gloves to Bynum. “Let’s try not to fuck up my scene.”

Lambert said, “Well, let’s not forget this is still a missing person’s case now.”

“Just don’t you guys forget that if we find more bodies the longer we go the better the chance you aren’t going to find anyone alive. If I were you, I'd see if there are any dogs we can get brought in. There’s a chance we can get a scent going for the girl that might be smart, we want to find her either way though.”

The two men walked into the field, leaving Lambert and Hardin by the car. Lambert said, “You don’t give me a lot of hope, Hardin, about finding this girl…..did I mention the missing is my goddaughter?”

“It doesn’t matter if she is your daughter or wife Chief, I’m not going to scream about you finding her and how it’s guaranteed. This killer has got a one hundred percent success rate. He or she goes for the kill and that is what happens. I’m sorry I am not being more optimistic but statistically it doesn’t look good."

 

Chapter 14

 

The three watched as the SUV disappeared, going over the hill and back down the other side. They were all shaken from it, Jack and Brandi were both covered in blood and looked a mess. Katy placed an arm around Brandi. “Come on, Brandi, we have some water back by the tent. Let’s go back there and wait.”

Brandi shook her off, emotions she hadn’t realized she had for Tony had come pouring out and left her mentally in a state of mind that she did not know she was capable of. “What the fuck are you talking about water? I need a drink, god damn it. What the fuck was he thinking? He didn’t act weird the entire night last night. He was laughing and having a good time. He wasn’t suicidal, that’s for sure. And a man that had his brains fucked out had nothing to be upset about. He had a smile on his face more than once last night. What was he thinking? He has it made, he has everything anyone would ever want and then some.”

Jack said, “You know….I could probably use a drink too.”

Katy pointed to the two of them and said, “What I meant was that maybe you might want to wash the blood off of yourselves and get a change of clothes.”

They looked at themselves and Jack said, “Let’s just go back to the water’s edge. I think we are going to need some serious water to get all of this off. Can you grab some clothes for us? I’m sure something of you or Traci’s is going to fit her right?”

Katy assessed Brandi, nodding. “Nothing like loose clothes anyways right? You’ll be fine Jack, the two of you wear identical summer attire anywhere, shorts and a shirt and you are good to go.”

Jack shrugged, his attire at the moment was about the last thing running through his mind. “I just realized we don't have any way of contacting them and finding out what is going on.”

Katy said, “They’ll come back. The news isn’t going to change anything. They are going to be wrecked when they get back. It’d probably be good if we leave them some cold drinks.”

Jack grabbed two beers, stuffing one into each pocket and one for the walk, and said, “There’s plenty of booze and beer, besides I’m confident right now we are as mentally fucked up as anyone could be.”

They walked down to the lake. Jack stripped off his shorts, the only thing left he’d had on after making a makeshift bandage on Tony’s neck. He stepped into the cool water, running it over his chest, arms, and hands until the crimson red washed away, revealing bronze tinted skin again. Brandi watched and Katy kept a close eye on her. She felt a bit uncomfortable having her husband in nothing but a pair of tight, now very wet, boxers. Brandi slammed back some sort of concoction that she’d mixed herself, ignoring the beer, saying something how it was too many calories. Katy couldn’t imagine how you’d be worried about your figure at a time like this, but only screamed on the inside at her frail body as she stripped down to her unmentionables in order to wash herself as well. Jack dried and when Brandi was dressed in borrowed clothes they headed back to the campsite.

Jack went to the firewood Isaac and himself had collected, not paying attention to it. He was focused on his wife and making sure she was really doing okay and not just saying that she was. When his hand came back wet it caught his attention. He looked down seeing it was sticky and red. He moved his fingers around trying to think what it could be and very quickly had the answer, the one that he didn’t want to be true. He fell backwards dropping the firewood and choked on his own scream.

When Brandi and Katy saw the look on his face there was no question that he’d seen a ghost. Katy questioned as they ran to him, “Jack? Baby, what is it? What is wrong?”

He held up his bloody hand, pointing it at the woodpile. She saw it and misinterpreted what she saw. Katy yelled, “What’s wrong with your hand? Did you cut yourself? Fuck this day!”

Jack tried to speak but nothing came out. He just mouthed the words woodpile, woodpile. Katy leaned in, watching his face. She’d never seen him go so pale so fast even at his worst condition. She dropped to her knees in front of him and when she finally figured out what he was saying she turned around to look at the wood. Tony’s dead eyes were staring back at her. She screamed this time and there was no choking on her screams there was just screaming. This grew in intensity when Brandi looked to the pile in her near buzzed state and began screaming as well.

Jack pushed up from the ground, somewhat in a daze. “If he didn’t commit suicide then who…...who did that to him?”

The stranger stepped out slowly and in no hurry. Jack saw him and took a few steps back. The white mask was smeared with blood. Jack had to assume was Tony’s, which freaked him out. The fact that Tony’s head was here and his best friends in the entire world had been the ones to take him hit home. When the idea of it hit him it was hard enough that it made his stomach turn and he puked the beer out that he had been consuming like he hated it. Jack said between gasps to catch his breath, “Who…..who….who are you? Where are my friends? What the fuck is going on? Is this some sort of sick fucking joke?”

The man shook his head no. It was hard to stare directly at the man because he had the afternoon sun peeking over his shoulder. The man shook his head slowly no, he dragged a hand across the tent as he walked forward, blood streaks were left on it as he let his hand fall back to his side.

Jack looked down at the girls who were frozen in place, He yelled, “I need you girls to get your asses up and I need it right now! We need to leave, there’s obviously something fucking wrong with this guy and I’m not going to wait around to see what it is. We need to go and try to find Isaac and Traci. We need to see if they are okay and get out of here.”

Brandi asked, “What do you want from us?”

The man pulled the machete from his belt, holding it up with one hand, and with the other ran a bloodied finger around his heart and then pointed at them. Katy said, “What? Are you trying to say that you want our hearts?”

The man put a finger to his temple and then gave a thumbs up sign. This infuriated Jack. He made sure Katy was completely on her feet and said, “I love you baby, I want you two to run. You run like you’ve never had to in your life.”

“Jack, baby, don’t do anything stupid. We can run together. We don’t need to do anything, we can just run!”

“He’ll catch up to us. He’s got a foot on us, it doesn’t matter how far we go he’s going to be able to keep up and from the looks of him he’s been out here for a while.”

Brandi walked over slowly towards Katy and said, “If he wants to keep us alive, you might want to take him up on that. Now come on let’s start running while the giant is still peaceful.”

“He isn’t your husband, you bitch. He doesn’t fuck me because I’m just there, he loves my ass and I love him. I’m not going to leave him. It’s both of us that make it or none of us, there is no middle ground on this one.”

Jack who was by far the laid-back one of the two made no question about it. He screamed to the two of them leaving no choice but to listen to his words. He bent down, preparing to rush the giant of a man. Brandi reached for Katy’s hand taking away her choice to stay, or leave and pulled her into the distance. She said, “I can see some smoke coming from over there, maybe someone else is out here camping. Someone with a fucking car, we can hope, or better yet a gun.”

Katy fought it at first and to her surprise a hand came from nowhere and Brandi slapped her open handed with a good amount of force sending a numbing feeling across Katy’s face. Jack winced seeing that and said, “She’s right baby, you need to go with her. There isn’t anything you can do to help. The two of you standing on each other’s shoulders you are barely as tall as him.”

Katy thought about the fact that the two girl’s weight combined probably didn’t come close to what the man in front of them was pushing. They took off at a run and the man turned his focus to Jack. Katy looked back over her shoulder as she was practically be dragged into the distance. Jack screamed, “I love you!”

He bent down further, gripping one of the branches of wood, and the stranger held up the machete. Putting a finger to the blade and running it across. The stranger held out a hand teasing Jack to come forward. Jack now had wished the hatchet hadn't been put away with the other gear already. He looked at the branch, trying to think of what to do, and knew all options were shit. He rushed the man, taking a swing with the stick. The man brought down the machete and connecting with the branch, not slicing through it but knocking it out of Jack’s hand.

Jack backed up a few steps at this, trying to keep his balance. He had no death wish, but knew if he could give the girls enough time to get a head start that at least they would have a chance at surviving. He ran back at the man, bringing up a foot at the man’s groin. He closed his legs around Jack’s making him fall off balance. When the man released his leg Jack tried to crab walk backwards. The man walked towards him, kicking his legs out. When Jack held up his hand, the man brought down the machete.

 

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