The End The Beginning (Humanity's New Dawn Book 1)

by Ryan Horvath

  “Tell me about it,” she responded, raising her arms up in a stretch. “Did I bother you?”

  “Yes,” Blaze chuffed.

  “I’m sorry, Blaze. C’mere,” she said, reaching her hands out to him.

  Blaze stood and quickly ambled the short distance to her outstretched hands and Karen grabbed his head and proceeded to scratch his ears.

  “OOOOOhhhh. Okay, I forgive you,” Blaze barked. His tail zinged the open air behind him in its characteristically typical way.

  Karen scratched Blaze for thirty or so more seconds before tossing the sheet off her legs and stepping out of bed. Blaze also bounded to the floor with over a dozen toenail clicks. Karen walked to the bathroom off her room and conducted her morning business. When finished, she turned on the shower as hot as it would go, stripped off her panties and nightshirt, and stepped under the stream. Blaze sat down outside the shower, watching her through the glass door.

  The steam came fast and the small room was soon filled with humid haze. The jets from the shower head against her skin both relaxed and invigorated Karen.

  “The heat feels good,” Blaze woofed.

  “Yes it does. I bet you’re probably due for a bath too, huh, Blaze?” Karen said back to him.

  “A bath!? No way! I hate baths!” Blaze barked.

  Karen smiled at the dog’s reaction. “C’mon Blaze. Everybody has to take baths. How often did Master George and Master Ann bathe you?”

  “No baths!” Blaze barked insistently. But Karen thought she could hear something playful in his tone.

  “I bet you’re one of those pooches who likes to splash around and make a mess when you get a bath aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” he chuffed sheepishly.

  I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” she said smiling down at him.

  “Maybe,” he chuffed again. “But probably not. I hate baths.”

  A moment later, Karen turned off the shower and opened the door and grabbed a towel off the hook by the door. She quickly dried herself off and wrapped the towel around her body. She stepped to the mirror and pulled her hairbrush from her purse. She brushed out her shoulder length auburn hair and fixed it into a short pony-tail behind her head.

  “No need for makeup today, I think,” Karen said somewhat sardonically.

  She left the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom and stepped over to the window. She pulled the curtains open and was greeted with a beautiful image. The autumn had come alive today. The sky was a brilliant cerulean blue and the auburns, golds, and beiges of the trees’ foliage bounced off of it in contrast. The grass was still lush and green and a large group of asters was in full bloom along the privacy fence on the eastern edge of Mitzi and Ralph’s property. As Karen looked out on the perfect, calm, and beautiful day she had woken up in, she couldn’t believe that the end of the day was probably going to be quite unpleasant.

  Karen opened the window more and pressed her hand to the screen. The air had gotten cool overnight and the chill wasn’t quite burned off yet by the day.

  Blaze jumped up on the window seat and pressed his nose to the screen. Karen left the window and dressed. She put on cotton panties, a sports bra, and thick socks. Over this she donned blue jeans, a long sleeve T-shirt and her windbreaker she had brought from Virginia. On her feet, she put a pair of Reebok jogging shoes. Karen packed up her remaining possessions and put them in the paper shopping bag she had received from the clothing store. She threw her purse over her shoulder.

  “You ready to roll, little buddy?” Karen asked Blaze.

  Blaze jumped off the window seat and padded over to her. “I’m ready,” he woofed. “We’re definitely not far,” he added, looking back over his shoulder toward the window.

  “Good,” Karen said. “Hang on, Amanda. We’re coming.”

  The pair left the room and headed downstairs where they ran into Mitzi before they could walk out the front door.

  “Good morning, you two. Breakfast is just about ready,” Mitzi reported.

  “Oh,” Karen started. “We were just going to get something on the road.”

  “Nonsense!” Mitzi blurted out. “Don’t tell me that you don’t know breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And this is a bed and breakfast after all, young lady.”

  Karen laughed. Yes, this day is just starting off so pleasantly. “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

  “Then we’ll see you at the table. Let Blaze, there, out to do his business then march yourselves into the dining room and eat with us,” Mitzi said in the tone of a woman who had clearly reared multiple children.

  “Yes ma’am,” Karen responded. She opened the front door and let Blaze dash out.

  As he ran across the lawn he barked, “I hope she puts that gravy on my kibble again!”

  Karen smiled in the morning sunshine while she watched Blaze disappear into his usual stand of trees.

  A vision appeared before her. The green eyed man. A bloodthirsty hateful expression lined with lust was on his face. He was right in front of her and his arms were stretched out toward her. They were stretched out to her because he had his hands around her neck.

  And when Blaze reappeared the maniac before her disappeared.

  Blaze joined Karen on the steps to the patio. After a few seconds he woofed, “Another vision?”

  Karen slowly nodded. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea of the chronological sequence of her and Amanda’s visions. She could find and save Amanda only to fall victim to the madman herself.

  Buck up, you bitch! a part of her mind shouted at her. You’ve all but been on vacation here for the last few days while your kid sister lies chained to a table God knows where with her tits on display. Cry about it later! Now it’s time to fight.

  A tear leaked out of Karen’s right eye at the harshness of this reality but she knew it to be true. She looked down at Blaze and said, “We’ll get through this together. C’mon. Let’s eat.” She wiped the tear away, opened the front door for Blaze and followed him inside. She joined Ralph, Mitzi, Bret, and Jessica in the dining room for what would be her last time. Blaze had already buried his nose in a bowl full of kibble which Karen noticed did indeed have some of Mitzi’s special gravy on it. Breakfast here was buffet style and Karen took a plate and various selections from the warming trays that were set on Mitzi’s buffet stand. She took her plate to the table and sat down with the two couples.

  “So, Ralph, what time is your eclipse today?” she asked.

  “Should be seein’ it around 1:45 or so,” he said excitedly.

  Karen looked at the grandfather clock that was next to Mitzi’s breakfront.

  In less than six hours, she and Amanda and Blaze would be running.

  Things at Jack Voight’s townhouse were quite active for most of Friday morning. Jack and Brian had spent the night together in Jack’s room with River curled up in a nearby easy chair. Ian had slept in the guest room and Simon had pulled out the sofa bed in the den.

  The four men began waking up around 7:30 AM with Brian being the first to rise. He pulled on a pair of jogging pants and immediately left Jack’s bedroom for the kitchen where he started making breakfast, knowing that the sounds and smells of food and coffee being prepared would rouse the guys quickly.

  Simon was the second to wake and he padded barefoot into the kitchen wearing only the trousers he’d arrived in yesterday. “Mornin’,” He said through a yawn and scratched his chest.

  “Mornin’,” Brian said. He turned to face Simon and pointed to the coffee pot. “Coffee’s there. Mugs are in the cabinet above it.” Brian blushed a little at the sight of Simon. He still couldn’t believe that man was older than him when he looked so young, lithe, and defined. He quickly turned back to tending the stove while Simon moved to the coffee.

  Simon noticed Brian didn’t have a mug nearby. “Do you need a cup?” he asked.

  “Sure. Thanks. Just some sugar please,” Brian answered.

 
; Simon poured two cups, added sugar to one from the nearby dish, and walked them over to Brian. He set a cup down for him and leaned his back against the edge of the counter.

  Brian took a sip of his coffee and then said, “Can you watch this for a minute? I gotta hit the head.”

  “No problem,” Simon replied and took the spatula from him.

  As Brian was leaving the room, Ian was coming in and Brian said, “Nice of you to put on some pants this morning for our guest, Dick Head.”

  “Oh I took care of my morning buddy today,” Ian announced. “Didn’t know when I’d be alone again. I used this hand right here,” Ian said wiggling the fingers of his right hand and then grabbing Brian’s chin.

  Brian slapped his hand away and said jokingly, “You’re an ass.” The two shoved each other a few times before Brian stopped and said, “Coffee’s ready. Give Simon a hand with the chow. Hi River.”

  The cat was ambling down the hall. “Hi. Something sure smells good. Do I get some of that?” she said in a series of meows. Without Jack being present, Ian translated for Brian.

  “Of course,” Brian answered and squatted down and scratched her head. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “What’re we havin’?” Ian asked as he sidled up to Simon. “Eggs. Sausages. I’m going to kick those eggs up with some peppers and onions and whip up some French toast.”

  “Quite the chef, are we?” Simon asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Nah, more of a hobby. I believe that when it comes to food and eating, it’s best not to fuck around, you know?” Ian replied. He went to the refrigerator and took out more eggs as well as a half loaf of bread, a red pepper and an onion.

  Brian returned and noticed Ian. “Oh good, you’re making more. I was wondering how the five of us were going to get by on those eight dinky sausages.”

  “Chef Ian to the rescue,” Ian said raising the knife he was holding.

  Brian walked over to the stove. “Looks like you got this covered,” he said to Simon. “I’ll grab some plates.”

  A moment later, Jack shuffled in wearing a pair of gym shorts and ankle socks. He was carrying a T-shirt. He paused momentarily to scratch River’s head where she sat on her perch on the window sill. Then he and Brian exchanged a quick kiss and muted “good morning.” After, he opened the fridge and said “How’re you guys?” They all answered positively but Jack caught a sense that none of them had really slept well last night. The strong smells of coffee, sausage, and onions tickled Jack’s nose and his stomach instantly came alive. He opened the refrigerator and took out the bottle of orange juice of which he poured himself a tall glass and then replaced the bottle where he had got it. He liked the focus he saw in the three men, each doing their own task, but Jack did not like the silence. He decided to do something about it.

  “Guys… I’m not going to beat around the bush about this. Are you all still with me? If anyone wants to change their mind, I won’t get mad. I won’t like it but I won’t get mad.”

  “Of course,” River immediately responded from her sill.

  “Wouldn’t miss it, Jack-Rose,” Ian followed.

  “Neither would I.” Simon surprised himself, considering he had only met these three men and the cat less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “Absolutely,” Brian finished up.

  Jack silently thanked everyone and sipped his juice.

  “Eggs are ready. Sausage will be in a minute,” Simon said. “Would you too each grab two plates?” he said indicating Jack and Brian. “Ian says he’s making French toast.”

  “Which will be up in a jiff,” Ian assured.

  Jack and Brian each grabbed two plates and Simon dished up eggs on all of them. He followed those with the meat and set aside a link to cut up for River who was sitting at his feet staring up in hopes to catch food falling from a pan or plate.

  The group ate quickly and quietly, other than the clank of silverware. When all was finished, they loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and, out of habit, Jack started the machine. It seemed to him to be such a ridiculous thing to do at this time. They’d be gone by the time the cycle finished. Jack wondered if he’d ever be coming back to his home he’d only had for a short while but that he’d loved.

  Back in the garage, the last items were loaded into Ian’s Honda and the roof top cargo box for the SUV. The four men easily lifted the box and placed it on the roof of the vehicle and Jack secured each of the four brackets. They discussed where they’d go first. Jack wanted to be far enough out of the metro loop to find isolation but not so far that it would be a long, potentially dangerous, trek back to the city. So he had done some searching on the internet. He had checked numerous real estate listings and had found a suitable residence that was vacant and in foreclosure. Jack said it had a lot of land and the house was right in the middle of it. It was surrounded by a barbed wire fence, while, not one hundred percent effective, it still would afford some reassurance. The interior floor plan revealed two small rooms that could not be penetrated from the outside walls. And to top it off, the listing advertised that the home came with a full two hundred fifty gallon tank of propane. The house was just outside of Orono, about twenty miles west of the city.

  “Sounds like a resort,” Simon said kiddingly. And they all shared an uneasy laugh.

  The morning had been perfect, at least in regards to the weather and the companionship. None of them wanted to believe that there was something dark looming over their heads.

  After a few last checks of both the vehicles, Jack said, “I guess it’s time to hit the road.” Midday was approaching.

  As midday approached on Friday morning, Art Specktor sat is his bumperless car were he had been all night and all morning. The Shepherd look alike had not shown his face the entire time and then, finally, just as Art was going to return to his place and then probably the bitch woman in the basement, his smart phone buzzed. He read the incoming message.

  POSSIBLE LOCATION OF TARGET. VEHICLE TARGET WAS SEEN IN REGISTERED TO IAN TURNER OF ROCHESTER. DIGGING REVEALED TURNER IS A COLLEGE FRIEND OF ONE JACK VOIGHT OF MINNEAPOLIS. CHECK ADDRESS 305 –B 4 1/2 AVE NE.

  Art reread the message as he always did when it came to matters of business. When he contemplated the address, he realized that he was less than a mile away. Art put his phone down on the seat next to him, put his hand on the ignition, started his car, and drove in the direction of Jack Voight’s residence.

  He was happy. Finally he could put an end to this mission and the puny doctor and then he could get started on the bitch woman. His penis roused at the thought.

  As midday approached in the cold, creepy, rank confines of the abandoned farmhouse basement Amanda Breck woke up.

  A tear streamed down the side of her face as she realized she was still trapped. And if the monster who held her captive held true to his word, he’d be here soon to begin doing the unthinkable to her.

  In the silence, the drip from nearby persisted.

  Amanda prayed that today would be the last day she would wake up in this room.

  54

  ART

  Art approached the intersection a block away from Jack Voight’s residence. Art didn’t know the homeowner or the man who had been driving his prey around yesterday when the traffic camera finally caught a glimpse of Shepherd. He didn’t know them but if they got in between Art and the doctor, he would not hesitate to tear them apart. His excitement level rose as he anticipated being done with this assignment and finally settling in with the bitch woman for a while. It had been days since he had killed anyone and his bloodlust neared an all-time high. Additionally, his most recent orgasm had been moments before his last homicide and his sexual hunger was beyond the boiling point.

  After moving through the intersection, Art parked his car. He was not in front of Voight’s place but he could see it. He watched it for about a minute and did not notice any activity though the blinds were down and mostly closed. After another minute, he decided to move. He opened his glove bo
x and removed his pistol, a Sig Sauer P226. He didn’t think he would really need the gun, given that he was strong and fast and trained enough to dispatch the three men by hand, but he thought it was better safe than sorry. He checked the chamber, confirmed it was loaded, re-clicked the safety, and tucked the gun in the waistband of his pants at the small of his back. He then stepped out of his car and looked around. The neighborhood was relatively quiet with most of the residents around here being young working class professionals at the grind downtown just across the river. Art walked over to and then strolled down the bicycle path that ran parallel to the sidewalk.

  Voight lived in a townhouse association which was made up of twelve units. These units were grouped into three groups of four with about twelve feet of green space between them. All the end units were single story and looked small from the front. Each of these had a deck attached to the front with a long sidewalk leading to the front door. The middle units all contained a second half story and a mature tree stood in between each middle unit. Art strolled past Voight’s unit, which was on the left end of the middle group of residences. His goal was to look innocuous and casual but to also look for movement in the stranger’s home and those adjacent. He continued to the end of the row and then turned left up a slope. When he was able to see the backs of the units, he discovered that, because the homes were built into a hillside, they all sat atop two and a half car garages that were not visible from the front. Art guessed there was some kind of basement there as well, given this was Minnesota.

  The rear view of Voight’s residence showed no activity inside. This pleased Art. If no one was there right now, Art could slip inside and lie in wait for the inhabitants to return.

  He took out his smart phone and pretended to text while he decided what to do. If someone was there, Art had to be ready to strike fast and furious. He didn’t like the thought of killing in this city, where he would always be at risk of discovery in a place he loved, but his heightened need to kill combined with his acute desire to begin the breaking of his captive in the farm house was forcing him to make decisions he would not normally make. Another obstacle Art saw was that Voight’s home had a storm door which wouldn’t likely get opened if the owner was answering a ring of the door-bell or a knock. As he looked back toward the units, he noticed something that he hadn’t seen before. There was a service door next to Voight’s automobile garage door. None of the other units had one.