by Anna Blakely
She’d never been on the receiving end of a taser before, but Eden knew the dizzying effects she was feeling now were a result of Josiah drugging her after shocking her into submission. That probably explained why she wasn’t getting more visions.
Looking around the room, Eden searched for some indication of where she was. Because she was laying down, her line of sight was limited, but she did her best to focus on what she could see.
The room was small and dark, its damp mustiness reminding her of the old storm cellar on her grandparent’s farm. At her feet was a stone wall, and about eight feet to her right there appeared to be a step peeking out from around the wall’s edge. Above her were exposed, wooden beams that looked as though they’d been in place for many years.
Eden turned her head to the left, expecting to see more of the same. Instead, what she found left her gasping.
Hanging from a piece of tattered twine were several pictures. Each of the five victims were there, the images from both before, during, and after the women’s abductions and subsequent deaths.
It had been bad enough to see their faces on the board at the precinct, and those had been provided by either their family members or the DMV data base. To see them in the midst of their final moments on this earth was heart wrenching.
Eden started to turn away when something else caught her eye. On the wall next to the corner were more pictures. They were neatly arranged around several newspaper headings and articles, each photo of the same, unknowing subject.
Though she was too far away to read the smaller print, Eden knew exactly who the articles were about. She could also easily make out the woman’s face in the photos. It was the same face she saw every time she looked in the mirror.
Bile rose in her throat as she realized The Liberator had been watching her for the past several days, and she’d never even known it.
A comment Sergeant Murphy made while they’d been going over the killer’s timeline the other day rang through Eden’s head. He’d mentioned their guy was escalating, which meant he was getting closer and closer to his end game.
Until this very moment, no one knew what that was. As Eden stared at the pictures of herself on that wall, she understood all too well.
It’s me. His endgame is me.
Terrified, she began pulling against the unforgiving restraints. The sharp edges cut into her skin, and she could feel the warm blood coating her wrists. Ignoring the pain, Eden continued to fight.
She was still pulling when a sudden onslaught of memories—other women’s memories—struck without warning. Whatever Josiah had put into her veins was wearing off, allowing her visions to break through.
She could see what they saw. She could feel the pure terror they’d felt. Soon, the pain and horror those women had experienced became too much, threatening to consume her like before.
Not again.
Eden had to keep fighting. She had to figure out some way to control the powerful visions. If she couldn’t, if she gave into the darkness this time, Eden knew she may never find her way back.
It was only by the grace of God that she was able to remain conscious as she tapped into the mental strength and control she’d been practicing for the past two years. As hard as it was, she forced her eyes to remain open when the man known as The Liberator entered the dark and musty room.
“I was hoping you’d be awake.”
Working to control her heaving breaths, Eden committed to memory every detail she could as the killer came toward her. If by some miracle she found a way to escape, she wanted to be able to give Alex as many details as she could.
Still dressed in the same jeans, T-shirt, and ballcap he’d been wearing at the club, she approximated his height to be just under six-three. He was leaner than Alex, but clearly still strong enough to overpower her and all the other victims.
His hair was a bit on the longer side—its dark waves curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck—and his square jaw was clean-shaven, making him look much younger than Eden expected.
“Hello, Josiah.” She was proud of how steady her voice sounded.
The man smiled. “You are the real thing.”
“Not everyone thinks so.”
Josiah frowned. “Those reporters were wrong to doubt you. Even back then, I knew you were like me.”
The hell I am. “I’m nothing like you,” Eden bit out.
Grinning, he moved closer to her. “We’re more alike than you think. I see things about people, too. I can see their pasts and feel their emotions. I can tell if they’re happy with their lives or are in search of something more.”
With no way out of the restraints, Eden knew her only chance was to keep him talking long enough for someone to find her.
“That’s why you killed those women, isn’t it? And why you call yourself The Liberator. You thought they needed to be freed.”
This seemed to please him. “They did need freeing.”
“Those women had lives. People who cared about them.”
“Those women were miserable! They were treated like outcasts by almost everyone they knew, including their families.”
“Not Chloe Howard. Her parents loved her.”
“Her parents ignored who she really was and forced her to do the same. They pretended as if her gift didn’t exist.”
“But they still accepted her as their daughter.”
“They accepted the daughter they wanted her to be. Not the daughter she was. I saw it in her eyes when she stood by while her mother gave that fake, scripted speech of hers.” Josiah used a gloved finger to brush some hair from her forehead. “It was the same look I saw in your eyes the day those reporters attacked you on live television.”
“They didn’t attack me. They attacked the validity of my gift.”
“Same thing.” He shrugged. “Your gift is who you are.”
“No, Josiah. My gift is something I can do. I’m more than my ability. So were those women.” Eden swallowed and took a chance. “So was Mary Grace.”
Pain flashed behind his wild eyes. “Don’t talk about my sister.”
“Why not?” Eden licked her dry lips. “She’s the reason for all this.”
“Mary Grace has nothing to do with this.”
“She has everything to do with this, Josiah.” Eden waited a bit before adding, “The police found the notes you left with the bodies. When I touched one, it was like I was in the barn that day with you and your sister. I saw how your father treated her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, Josiah.” Eden purposely laced her voice with disappointment. “You know I do.”
He hesitated before admitting, “Our father was a monster.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “He was. But what he did to Mary Grace wasn’t your fault.”
“I was her big brother!” Josiah yelled. “I should have protected her.”
It was obvious the man was mentally unstable. If she had to guess, this was probably due to the many years Josiah had been forced to witness the abuse of both his mother and sister. In order to avoid the same type of punishment, he’d felt compelled to hide who he really was inside.
Having previously read the FBI’s profile of the suspect they were after, Eden knew they’d been spot-on in their description. Josiah’s personality traits factored greatly in becoming the killer standing before her now.
He exhibited all the classic signs of someone with narcissistic tendencies, as well as having a God complex. Because of those things, Eden was confident she could keep him talking, as long as he was the focus of conversation.
On the flip side, because of Josiah’s strong personality traits, his decision to keep his abilities a secret from his parents—as well as his sister’s abuse and subsequent suicide—made him feel like a failure. And failure was not something narcissists dealt well with.
In this particular case, when nature and nurture came together, they combined to create the perfect storm.
/> “You were just a kid, yourself,” Eden continued to talk about him. “And from what I saw, you did try to protect her. You gave her advice on how to avoid being beaten. It’s not your fault Mary Grace chose not to listen.”
“What my sister chose was death.” Tears slid down the tortured man’s cheeks. “She slit her own wrists, right in front of me. She knew if she continued on, her life would either be filled with lies or abuse at the hands of her own father. What kind of choice is that for a young girl to have to make?”
“A horrible one,” Eden answered truthfully.
“You’re damn right it was horrible. But she found a way out.” Josiah stared back at her. “She found a way to be free.”
When he started for the metal tray, Eden quickly turned the topic back to him. “What about you, Josiah? How did you manage to get away from your father?”
“My father claimed to be a man of God. He preached day and night that society was nothing but sinners, their fate already spoken for. Said if we joined them, we’d be damned to Hell, too.” He looked back at her. “That’s why we lived off the grid. The only time my father went to town was for supplies, and those were minimal. We grew our own food, made our own furniture. My mother sewed all our clothes.”
“But you broke free, didn’t you?” Eden focused on him again. “It must have been a hard thing to do.”
An evil grin slowly formed on Josiah’s lips. “It was the same day Mary Grace became free.”
Just as she’d hoped, Josiah returned his focus on her and came a few steps closer.
“My father heard me crying in the barn and came back. When he saw what Mary Grace had done, he didn’t say a word. He simply grabbed a shovel, went out to the tree line, and dug a grave.” His cold eyes found hers. “He didn’t even tell Mother what had happened until after he’d buried her.”
What a horrible, awful man.
“I waited until later that night,” Josiah continued. “I crushed some tranquilizers we kept for the animals and put them into their evening tea. After they went to bed, I snuck into their room. Drove my knife straight into my mother’s heart as she slept.” The look he gave was that of an innocent child. “I made sure it was quick and painless for her.”
Eden barely controlled her expression, knowing that had to be anything but painless. Her thoughts flashed to Zoe, but she forced them away. As heartless as it seemed, she couldn’t think about the detective now.
“What about your father?” She cleared her rough throat. “Did he wake up?”
Josiah smiled again. “He slept like a baby through the whole thing.”
Eden shivered as he came even closer to her. The madman showed no signs of remorse for having murdered his own mother in cold blood.
“I went to his side of the bed, but I didn’t kill him right away. Instead, I tied a rope around his wrists and carried him over my shoulders out into the barn. Once inside, I hung him from a hook in the wall we used to hold the extra rope for the horses.”
Not really wanting to know, Eden kept him talking. “What happened next, Josiah?”
Josiah looked down at her. “I woke him up. Tossed a bucket of cold water on the bastard. It took him a minute to clear his head and realize where he was. As soon as he did, he started yelling at me, demanding I let him down. When I refused, he asked what I was doing.”
“And what did you tell him?”
A look of pure evil crossed Josiah’s face, and he became agitated as the memories from that day came to life inside his head.
“I told him I was only giving him what he’d given to Mary Grace. And then I took the same belt he always used on her, and I beat him with it.” He looked somewhat satisfied when he added, “By the time I was finished with that part, the powerful, all-knowing Amos Black was sobbing like a child.”
“And after?”
“I released him from the hook and tossed him to the ground. Because he was right-handed, I slit that wrist first. Father cried out but was too weakened from the whipping to fight back. I remember him screaming at me as I sliced open his other wrist. He called me names. Said I was possessed by Satan, but I made sure he understood the truth.”
“What truth was that?”
Emotionless, Josiah locked his eyes with hers. “That it was his fault Mary Grace ended her own life. And that she wasn’t the only one cursed with special abilities.” His loud chuckle surprised her. “I can still see the look on his face when I read his mind that day. When I told him things about his childhood. Stories about him and my grandfather. Ones he’d never dared to share with us.”
Several seconds passed while Josiah traveled back in time. Eden didn’t dare speak out. The longer he remained trapped in that horrific day, the more time Alex and his team had to find her. Before long, Josiah began talking again.
“I remember the look filling his wide eyes as he realized, not only was he about to die, but the son he’d thought to be perfect was as damaged as the wife and daughter he loathed. I stood back and watched, waiting while his blood mixed with Mary Grace’s on the barn’s dirt floor.”
Eden scrambled to think of what to say next. After a few seconds of silence, she decided to ask the question burning inside her.
“Why kill those other women? And watch me?” Other than the fact that you’re a delusional sociopath.
“Delusional sociopath?” He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “That hurts, Eden.”
She didn’t bother trying to deny it. He obviously could read her as well as she could him. Better, actually.
“So, you’re a telepath?” That explained how he picked up on his victim’s thoughts and feelings.
“Actually, I’m much more than that. I can read minds, yes, but I can also see things before they happen.”
“You have both telepathy and precognitive abilities?” She’d never met anyone with multiple powers before. Actually, she’d never met another individual with any sort of psi ability.
Dan had spoken about his agency’s new psi Department. Eden just prayed he and Alex were enlisting their help, now.
“What can I say?” Josiah shrugged. “I’m a special kind of fucked up.”
“Y-you’re not fucked up, Josiah.”
He laughed. “Yes, I am.” His smile vanished. “So are you. And so were all those other women.”
“But you helped them, right? You read their minds and knew they were hurting, so you took it upon yourself to free them?”
“That’s right,” he bit out sharply. “I did that. Me.” He slapped his chest. “Mary Grace showed me the only way for someone like her to truly become free is to leave this world for the next.”
“Yet you’re still here,” Eden taunted him. “Why is that, Josiah?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re just as miserable as the rest of us, yet instead of stepping up and taking your own life like a real man, you’ve been going around killing innocent young women.”
“I liberated them!” he yelled.
Eden glared back at him. “You kidnapped and tortured them. You killed them.”
“I helped them!”
Eden knew pushing him was risky, but he was all talked out and she was desperate. Fully aware her plan may backfire, she continued on with her angry rant, wishing the entire time that someone would burst through that door and save her.
Come on, Alex. I need you. Please, help me.
She worked to keep her voice steady. Worst case, he lost his cool and killed her quickly. At least then she wouldn’t have to lie there, helpless, while he sliced and diced her, too.
“You cut them and then sliced their throats. Admit it, Josiah. You got off on their pain.”
“No.” He shook his head. Running a hand through his hair, he said, “Those other cuts were to help release the evil inside them. To make them better before they crossed over.”
“Did it make you hard?” Eden asked, praying she hadn’t taken things too far.
“Shut up!”
“It did, didn’t it?” She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat before tempting fate and saying, “I bet you’re getting hard just thinking about it.”
Cold, angry eyes flew to hers. “They were hurting.” His voice turned low. “Just like you are.”
Josiah went to the metal tray and picked up a scalpel. Eden’s heart felt as though it would fly out of her chest any second. She was running out of ideas…and time.
“The only one hurting me, is you, Josiah.” She tried to get through to him. “I’m happy with my life. Really.”
“You’re lying.” He turned to her. “I saw you on the news. All those reporters yelling their accusations at you.” Josiah moved back toward her. “I saw the look on your face. The pain behind those stunning eyes.”
“It was all a show,” Eden explained. “Designed to draw you out.”
He stopped at her side. “Congratulations, Eden.” Josiah smiled wide. “Your plan worked like a charm. However, there is one, major flaw you’re forgetting.”
“What’s that?” She whispered.
“I read your mind, remember? I could tell those ignorant people’s words hurt you. Here.”
Josiah pressed the scalpel’s sharp blade on her chest, just above her heart. Eden gasped, then clamped her jaw shut.
She refused to scream, even when the metal tip pricked her skin and warm blood began slowly running into the hollow of her throat.
“What those reporters said hurt, yes,” she gritted out. “But only because they brought up old memories.”
“You’re lying.” He lowered the scalpel to her side. Placing it just beneath her ribs, Josiah cut her again.
Eden squeezed her eyes shut and rolled her lips inward to keep from crying out. Her heaving breaths moved in and out through her nostrils at a high rate of speed, but she somehow managed to remain quiet.
Determined to stay strong and not let him see her pain, Eden looked back up at Josiah. Trying her hardest to make him see she was telling the truth.
“I’m happy with my life, Josiah. I found someone who loves me just the way I am. Someone who supports my gift rather than seeing it as something to be ashamed of. I no longer feel alone in this world. Read my mind, if you don’t believe me.”
