by Dave Dykema
Dan didn’t want her to clump him in that category of psychos. She obviously trusted him enough to be with him now, but he wanted to clear the air. He was about to bring up the stalking himself and get it over with when Melissa surprised him with a question.
“What exactly did you do when you stalked? What did it involve?”
He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to be discussing it.
“I thought that might have been nagging you all day,” he said, not meeting her eyes. Just because he was happy to talk about it didn’t make him any more comfortable.
“It hasn’t nagged me as much as trying to figure out a way to use it.”
“Use it?” Dan asked, incredulous. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“There must be a way to keep an eye on Stone and his followers. Your stalking seems like it might work.”
“Now wait a minute,” he said, almost laughing as a defense mechanism. “You’re not suggesting that I start that up again?”
“You’re the one who told me about the changes in Janet. Wouldn’t you like to know what happened to her? Why she changed so much in so little time?”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
“You want to know more than that.”
“Okay, God dammit, I’d like to know! Is that what you want?” he snapped.
“Well that’s more like it,” she said. “At least now you’re being honest with me.”
Dan didn’t know what to make of this. It wasn’t their job to delve in this deep—that was for the police. Of course, there was no cause for police to get involved, only the worries of a reporter and her photographer, and downtown that didn’t amount to squat. This was personal for both of them: Melissa carried a vendetta because she’d lost to Stone and wanted to nail him; Dan lost someone he once loved to the man, and wanted to know why.
“Say that I did agree. What do you have in mind?”
She began to outline her plan. Dan shook his head in disbelief, but he listened, and that was more than half the battle. By the time she kissed him and left, she was convinced he would do it.
Stalking Again
*1*
Dan laced up his tennis shoes, pulling the strings taut. The leather pressed firmly against his foot, becoming more of an extension of his body than a piece of clothing. It was tight, but he could still wiggle his toes, which he subconsciously did in excitement.
Knowing it was wrong, a boyish part of him still longed for the thrill of the chase. He had been denied his hobby, and his anticipation was great. Watching Dan prepare was like watching a condemned man smoke his last cigarette: slowly, deliberately, savoring each and every moment.
He took one last inventory of his outfit. Everything seemed to be in order. He did some squats to loosen up, shaking every limb, cracking his knuckles. He stretched his muscles like an aerobics instructor, rotating front to back, side to side. When he left his apartment his mind was focused on a single goal:
Stalking.
*2*
Am I doing the right thing?
That thought haunted Stone as he tried to collect himself in his rectory. Caution dictated that he was foolish to proceed with tonight’s plan, and had he felt better, he probably would have canceled them. But last week’s experience with Melissa left him drained. A fresh sacrifice was required, where the blood pulsated from its host in dark spurts, rich with life-giving force. He wanted to look into the eyes of his victim and experience the shear terror they divulged, absorbing their fear, for fear was the strongest emotion. It was the only emotion where there was never any doubt—it was pure, unqualified.
He envied his victims. They had a feeling he would never know, not fully anyway.
Am I doing the right thing?
Again the thought intruded his mind. Despite all his special care, lingering doubt still persisted.
*3*
Janet headed out toward Reverend Stone’s church, but not with the same eagerness. The fire that burned within her whenever she thought of Stone had died out. She grappled with feelings of betrayal, jealously, and loyalty. Stone had done a lot for her, or so she thought.
The image of him leaning over and planting a soft kiss on Melissa’s cheek stung her again. What are they up to? What is his game? Was he using me to get some information on Melissa?
She opened the double doors and entered. Some of the cold baggage she carried in with her melted away. Friends she hadn’t seen since last time were laughing and carrying on, and she felt the embrace of her family. There were some good people here. That’s what she remembered as one of the major drawing points for her in the beginning, and was a major cause for her return visits. She looked for Reverend Stone, and wasn’t disappointed when she didn’t see him. She felt like she was trying to dodge a filthy uncle at a family reunion. As long as he wasn’t there, she was happy.
*4*
Dan was cold. A few snowflakes fluttered in the breeze, and the station meteorologists were calling for an early winter—all of them in agreement for a rare change. Farther north, a few inches already fell.
The cold front moved in over Halloween, and that holiday was a fiasco. Everyone was on edge, convinced that the Dumpster Killer would choose that night to strike again even though there was no logic to support it. The annual trick-or-treating was conducted under very watchful eyes, and several neighborhoods canceled it altogether, opting instead to hold supervised parties in their school gymnasiums. Dan and Melissa spent the night curled up on the couch watching a marathon of horror classics on DVD.
They were almost finished editing their piece on “New Religions.” It started airing next week Sunday, since Sunday was a big audience day. The series was turning out better than either of them thought possible, and they were pleased. Getting information on Stone now would be icing on the cake, although it had taken on a more personal meaning for both of them. Melissa would have come along tonight if she could, but this was his baby, and she didn’t have the first idea how to stalk. Trying to explain it to her was an exercise in futility. She just didn’t have the heart.
But Dan did. It had only taken him a few blocks to get back into the persona of the killer from the movie, taking on his actions and mannerisms. He followed Janet with silent precision.
He watched her go inside from behind a thick oak tree across the street. He prepared himself for a long wait, gazing at the stoic building, wondering what secrets lay beyond its glass doors and white walls…
*5*
Kim couldn’t find Melissa anywhere. She felt they had developed a genuine friendship, something that she lacked in her professional and personal lives until the day she found Stone. She looked forward to seeing her friend, and Melissa’s absence left her feeling empty.
Kim felt most comfortable with the other newcomers. She had been part of the congregation for a few months now, but still had the distinction of novitiate, and therefore saw some of the others in a higher light, as if they belonged to a different caste. She happily talked with them when approached, but would never engage them. She wasn’t that bold.
“Kim, how are you?” asked Janet.
“Fine,” Kim said, beaming, happy to be spoken to. “Have you seen Melissa? I was hoping to talk with her before she went off with you.”
“No. I haven’t. Are you sure she’s coming?”
“I think so. Why? You don’t think she is?” she asked, never considering the possibility.
Janet said nothing. She knew of Kim’s kinship with Melissa and thought she might be able to get some information out of her about Melissa’s meeting with Stone, but it was obvious that Kim knew nothing of it.
“I’m sorry,” Kim suddenly apologized. “It’s not my place to ask such questions.”
The girl’s extreme devotion startled Janet. She was practically groveling for forgiveness around her knees. Janet didn’t share Kim’s vision of herself—far from it. She didn’t feel superior in any way.
“Kim, you’ve got to lighten up,” she chuckled. �
��This isn’t supposed to be frightening. We’re all equals here.”
Janet’s lighthearted reaction irked Kim. Color burned into her cheeks, her eyes blazed. She spoke before she could think.
“I feel Reverend Stone might think otherwise. Why else would he ignore me all this time? I’ve followed his teachings. I’ve tried to be a good example to others. Why does he withhold the ultimate knowledge from me? Every time I ask him, he rebukes me. What have I done to disappoint him? Why does he hate me?”
Tears burst from her eyes. Sobbing, she reached out to Janet and clung tight. In that moment, Janet saw a girl with extremely poor self-esteem, and awkwardly returned her embrace, patting her back and whispering soothing words, trying to bring some comfort into her world.
Then she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Without even having to look, she knew it was Stone. He waved her off with a simple flick of the wrist. Hating herself, but acting obediently, she released her hold on Kim and stepped away.
Stone moved forward.
“There, there,” he cooed, embracing Kim, pressing her wet cheek against his, stroking her back with his large, powerful hands. “What’s wrong, my dear Kim?”
*6*
Several times Dan had the urge to try to peer into the painted over windows. The hastily splashed on whitewash reminded him of Tom Sawyer and the picket fence he was supposed to paint, but instead manipulated his friends into doing the work. Dan supposed Stone was a lot like the roguish boy, and that was part of his appeal. If he was lucky, he might find a small corner of a pane that was missed—a dime-sized window into Stone’s world. More likely, if he were fortunate enough to find such a hole, it would look into a broom closet.
The glass by the front doors was out of the question for the obvious reason of being the only way in or out. It was too easy to be caught off guard with nowhere to hide should the doors open and the crowd spill into the sodium-hazed parking lot.
He kept moving while surveying the building. He didn’t want to be seen in one place for too long. While skirting around the back, he noticed a small cul-de-sac partially hidden by a high wire fence. He decided that warranted further investigation should the opportunity arise.
He started to head back to the front when suddenly he heard voices. He stopped, stooped over, listening, his head cocked to one side like a dog sensing danger. It sounded like people were leaving. He got up from his crouched position and scurried around to the front, staying close to the houses lining the street, enveloping him in the deep shadows they cast.
Janet was among those leaving. She walked with one other girl, and they soon rounded a corner, out of sight. He was extremely anxious to see how she interacted with other people, and if he could get close enough to overhear some of the conversation he might get a clue. He closed the gap quickly.
*7*
“What happens now?” asked Kim.
“We wait,” Janet said flatly.
“How long?”
“Long enough for everyone to leave. Coffee?”
“No thanks. I’m already a little on edge as it is.”
Janet nodded her head in understanding and plopped down on her couch, gesturing for Kim to follow suit. She turned on the TV and flipped through the channels.
Kim awkwardly sat down on the edge of her seat, keeping her posture very rigid compared to Janet’s floundering on the furniture. She didn’t know what to make of Reverend Stone’s invitation, and the secrecy that followed did nothing to calm her nerves. She wondered how long this “secret society” had been meeting, but didn’t feel it was an appropriate question to ask her hierarchical superior. Although, on the other hand, that status might be about to change.
Janet stopped on VH-1. Kim tried to make conversation.
“Behind the Music. I love that show.”
“Don’t get too involved. This is only to kill time. The night’s barely begun.”
*8*
On the other side of the door Dan wondered what that possibly meant. It had an almost sinister tone to it.
He was nervous following them here. All it took was for Mrs. Hardy or some other neighbor to enter the hall and find him leaning against Janet’s door—dressed in dark colors, ear pressed to the wood—to ship him off to jail for the night.
He hadn’t heard everything they said. Only moments ago he reached into himself and found the courage to follow through with his plan, sneaking through the dimly lit halls and up the stairs to her door, cursing each time a step moaned with age. He eagerly listened for more.
*9*
“Has this been going on all along?” Kim finally mustered the guts to ask.
“Yes.”
It was hard for Kim to believe. For months a charade had been played out right in front of her and several others, yet none of them had a clue.
“Why all the secrets?”
Janet sighed heavily. Kim took that to mean she shouldn’t ask so many questions.
“It’s a precaution. Reverend Stone is a little paranoid, and doesn’t think that some of his followers would understand. I tend to think he’s right.”
That Janet would suggest such a thing shocked Kim. It also made her wonder what was in store for her.
“He likes to know that his people are with him one hundred percent before he shares with him his greatest gift. You must have proved that to him tonight, or else he wouldn’t have pulled you aside and asked you to come back.”
*10*
For the next few minutes all Dan could hear was some music from the television. He could only guess that Kim was mulling over all that she was exposed to tonight, forming a new opinion of Stone and everything associated with him. He wondered if Melissa had stayed with the program would she have ever come to know of Stone’s “greatest gift” or be invited back to find out? He shuddered thinking about it.
Suddenly the audio from the television clipped off as the featured band was beginning its downward spiral into alcohol and drugs. Dan’s heart leapt to his throat. Something was happening.
“We better get going,” he heard Janet say. She sounded just on the other side of the door, inches from him. The door was going to snap open any second and they would find him squatting here!
Before that could happen, he scrambled to his feet and fled down the hall to the stairs. He bounded down them three at a time, disregarding every warning his mother had ever imbued in him when he was a boy. Behind him, he heard the door swing open and their voices flood into the hall.
He was out into the street a second later. He paused for an instant, waffling as to whether he should run to the left or right. Panic had gripped him, and it was a fatal hold. He had to shake it if he was going to come through unscathed.
What would the Stalker do?
Certainly not run about like a beheaded chicken.
He risked an instant to take a deep breath and collect himself, realizing that the girls would be walking down the stairs, not leaping down them. That moment allowed some reason to trickle back into him and he quickly ran to his left, to her parking lot. If they were going to get into a car and drive, he’d be able to see them do it while hiding behind another car. If they walked back to the church, they’d go to the right, and he would elude them. He was regaining his control. He felt that. The moment of unease was gone, an unpleasant memory.
When they didn’t come his way after a minute or so, he realized they had indeed gone back to Stone’s church—but then again, he really knew that all along. Now he was acting on instinct alone, like some kind of animal. He crept out from his hiding place and resumed the hunt.
It didn’t take long to spot them again. This time he followed with an assurance he never felt before. The night’s high stakes were paying off in a windfall he’d never expected, fueling his desire for more instead of satiating his appetite. He cast his earlier doubts aside and stalked with relish.
A few minutes later he watched as Janet and Kim once again entered the white building, glancing furtively about before going in. Dan als
o noticed that some of the cars that had left earlier had returned, although the lot was peppered with far fewer vehicles now. He wondered if there was some sort of meeting of the higher members about to commence. The secrecy intrigued him.
While he kept watch a few more people trickled in, but after a time, the flow stopped. He guessed all the returnees had assembled and he emerged from hiding. Before he kept himself from trying to peer through the windows, but this time he felt an attempt must be made. He glanced quickly about, and then rapidly crossed the street, going right up to the cold exterior. Against the white building, dressed in blue, he felt like a blemish on a model’s face. Exposed such, he wasted no time examining the windows.
He found that his initial theories were incorrect, and that the whitewash was no rush job. Every inch of the glass was meticulously glossed over, butting up directly with the pane on each window he inspected. After the third one, he gave up on that avenue and instead concentrated on trying to hear through the glass. All he could make out was a dull murmuring, revealing nothing.
He decided he’d spent enough time on this face, and slipped around to the back. Aside from preventing the risk of overexposure on the east side, this gave him the chance to further investigate the cul-de-sac he spotted earlier. But no sooner had he rounded the corner to the south wall then he darted back the way he came.
A car was pulling in behind the building. As soon as it was off the street and on Stone’s property its headlights winked off. Dan could still see the light from them imprinted on his cornea after staring directly into the glare, reminiscent of a school photographer’s flashbulb.
A moment later he heard two doors open and close quietly shut, instead of slamming. His sight returning after blinking away the image, Dan ducked his head around the corner of the building to see what was going on.
