Standing in the doorway, holding some flowers and not knowing if it was her turn to enter yet, stood a very patient but concerned Claire. Christina tried to wave with her left hand for her to come inside, but that didn’t work so well, so she called, “Come on in, Claire.”
She repeated her story for Claire, and when she reached the part of what the two young men had done, Claire jumped from her seat. “Those no-good-sons of bitches are Anthony Goodney and Eddie Files—both as crazy as their parents! They live way out in the woods with a bunch of other hicks and moonshiners, thinkin’ they can do whatever they want! Normally they’re hours from here, but now and then they show their ugly faces in town. Not sure why they would be near your property, though.”
“Actually they weren’t, I think. According to the map, I had river-rafted quite some distance before I saw them.” Christina smiled at her own joke.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Claire sounded genuine concerned.
“Like the day after a movie premiere.”
“Frank sends his best. Sorry he’s not able to come and visit today. There have been some…problems.”
From the tone of Claire’s voice, Christina suspected that something was wrong. “Is he okay?”
Claire smiled tiredly, “There was an incident, and Nugget was badly hurt. We still don’t know if he’s going to make it. He’s with the vet as we speak.”
“Did that happen when they were hunting the grizzly bear?” Tom inquired.
Claire nodded, and filled them in on what had happened.
“Well, Claire, I don’t know if this will make you and Frank any happier, because I understand how much you love Nugget…but I’d like to buy the place.”
A surprised Claire, “You would? Even after what happened to you?”
“What happened with the mother bear was my own fault, but I can learn, and I want to because I have truly fallen in love with the place. Now, what happened with the two boys…well, that could have happened pretty much anywhere, so that doesn’t scare me. I’m tougher than I look. Well, maybe not right now.”
Both Claire and Tom laughed at her, but not Mr. Smith. She noticed him doing something again with his wrist, and moments later Malik Washington returned with two more people: Thomas’s personal bodyguards, whom Christina knew well.
Deputy Washington got the information he needed about the two suspects, including the names Claire had provided, and related it to Carlos over his radio. He then towered by the bedside. “I’ll find them,” he vowed.
Christina noticed that even though he had said it to her, he had stared at Tom, who calmly returned the stare from his sitting position, and then at Tom’s bodyguards. No more words needed to be said. He had just informed everyone in the room that there would be no vigilantism.
“Don’t worry, officer, I won’t be the one defending them,” Thomas said, his expression as terrifying as Washington’s. Both men measured each other, and none gave in to the other. Just as the black man was about to say something, Dr. Daniela entered the room, telling them that visiting hours were over.
Dammit, Christina thought. I was hoping Robert would show up. That bastard.
He had many names, but in Skull Creek he was Ted Hagglund, though very few people knew him well. He was an outstanding commercial lumberjack, known to travel all over in search of work, with a good reputation for being reliable and sober. The few people who knew of him saw him as being overall friendly, nice and quiet. Not a person who stuck out or demanded attention.
But that was only a façade.
His real name was Tarben Nero Hammond, and he had evolved far beyond what he had begun as. He was no longer one of the weak, inferior two-leggeds, as he referred to them. It had taken him a lifetime to achieve the transformation that made him the perfect superior being; born a man, transformed into an animal; and yet he was neither. Any beast with the mind of a human would always be superior to anything else, animal or person.
He had no religion, just one belief; and that was in Mother Nature, and that he was her guardian. The two-leggeds had, for far too long, been the dominant species on Earth; and like the dinosaurs, they rushed towards their own demise. This he knew for a fact: He had been created to help Mother speed up the process for the end of humankind. He was very patient, and a realist, and knew full well that it wouldn’t come in his lifetime. That didn’t matter, because what needed to be done had to be done. He had to remove the worse enemies of the planet: the ones that actually did direct harm against nature. Going after politicians seemed ridiculous to him; but going after someone littering or harming nature and its creatures directly…that was something different. It was enough for him to do what he did by removing them from the world of the living.
When he had been a simple two-legged, he had never had any sort of sadistic streak in him; nor did he suffer from so-called rape syndrome, or want power and control over other living beings. Weak-minded characters did that, like so many two-legged. What he did was as natural to him as breathing. He felt neither joy nor remorse when taking another life, be it human or animal; however, killing another animal must be avoided at any cost if possible. With his transformation came the learning side; one must always keep learning to become better, and therefore he accepted the fact that he had evolved away from others, but he still had much more to learn about Mother Nature.
Still, there was nothing as thrilling as hunting a two-legged. Using psychological terror on the prey before the kill was euphoria. But he was well aware of the modern technology that advanced law enforcement wielded; it had changed a great deal throughout his life. He knew his limits, and had to be careful. What had happened in Skull Creek had been an embarrassment; then again, in his last hunting ground for the past few years before Skull Creek, the technology had been somewhat limited. He had been careless. These new drones used by rescue and law enforcement presented a major dilemma, much worse than helicopters, because some of them were almost soundless.
He was concerned about but not afraid of the new advancements in technology, and kept himself fairly updated. He understood that all the high-tech bullshit would also speed the two-leggeds’ demise. Besides, it had been thanks to technology that he had finally had found the only witness who had gotten away from the cleansing over fifty years ago. Tarben Nero Hammond was very meticulous. He had made a commitment that, once made, he always honored.
Skull Creek had been a disaster so far. First the stupid couple he had come across in the forest, camping and throwing trash around too near his temporary territory, so that it had looked like a dump, not caring where they spewed their garbage. Would it been too much to ask for them to bring a plastic bag and fill it up with their crap? In his evolved mind and body, the rage had taken over, and he had killed the male with ease and then enjoyed hunting the female. The idiot had jumped in front of an upcoming car. What a loser, he thought, as he looked out the window upon the beauty of nature while he enjoyed his herbal tea.
Then there was the business with the giant and the bitch who had actually shot him. That had been a first. He shook his head, thinking about his own stupidity: crossing a fucking intersection just to save time and in the hope that the cover of the rain and darkness would hide him. Wrong; the giant had seen him. He should have regrouped right there and then, but when the beast took over his mind, it wasn’t very controllable, and it was extremely unpredictable.
Locating and killing the giant had been easy. He already knew what crew he worked for, and had heard enough while the idiot had visited the fat cow. Considering his superior skills, strength, and knowledge of human anatomy, not to mention his specially-made bear hide exoskeleton, the kill had been effortless; the big idiot had been afraid when he fell dead on the road. He had left him there next to the woman’s truck. What puzzled him most was, who the hell had rigged the body on the yarder and then cut off the head? Could there be another witness?
Later, killing the fat cow had been a must; she could have been a witness to the giant’s deat
h. The dogs and the police had been a shame; normally he didn’t mind people in law enforcement. After all, there were billions of selfish idiots out there destroying the planet who needed his attention before any police, as in this instance. He hadn’t used the claws built into the exoskeleton on the dogs, and hoped they would survive. His eyes teared up, thinking about them; and then he got upset at the owners, they should have kept the poor dogs on leashes.
He glanced at the newspaper on the kitchen table, which he had picked up before he’d left Skull Creek. Two headlines blared from the first page. One was about a raving grizzly killing people; the second one was about the homicide. A smaller article on the first page mentioned a huge multi-car accident on Deadman’s Curve.
He needed to rest, focus, and meditate, and more so calm down; but he knew that wasn’t possible. Soon, he must stop his hunt and hibernate through to next spring. Superior or not, even he had to rest. And then there had been that girl, the one he had planned on taking with him and keeping for a while, to use her as prey for his final hunt this season; but now she didn’t fit the criteria of being an enemy to Mother Nature. All two-legged were enemies, make no mistake. But there were billions of them, so killing the ones that were imminent threats was enough. But she had helped the rescue workers repair the mechanical damage to Nature, and she had saved the kitten. Tarben Nero Hammond loved all animals, especially cats.
Now the beautiful young woman was forbidden fruit.
He had no sexual interest in any woman, though he was what people would label as straight; it was just that fornication was only to be done for procuring a child. Animals didn’t fornicate for pleasure, only to ensure the future existence of their species. He didn’t see or feel any pleasure in fornication; in fact, he found the idea disgusting. After all, who would want to fornicate with a lesser species? He had no urges in that department, as the newly evolved species he was; however, there still was a small part of the human left in him, and like all humans, he was curious. Not so curious that he would rape a woman just so he could satisfy his curiosity; the very thought was repulsive. Rapists and others who committed heinous crimes should be removed from the surface of the Earth. Prison was a waste of time; killing them wasn’t.
The only television show Tarben Nero Hammond had ever liked was Dexter.
He never collected souvenirs from his own kills, as serial killers do. He didn’t regard himself as a such. For him, killing the two-leggeds was a natural act, and that made him very dangerous. He had a perfect record, and several identities created through as many decades. He had learned to become expert in many different professions, but where he stood out were in camouflage and fragrance.
Tarben Nero Hammond was by far nature’s perfect killing machine, with over two thousand kills to his name, and he was a virgin.
He took another sip from his cup, and took note of a sound coming from the basement. He placed his cup on the kitchen table and opened an old door leading down to Hell. It was time to play some with Anthony and Eddie.
As he descended the stairs, he turned on the light. On the floor lay two young men: one black, the other white. Both were hogtied, blindfolded, and gagged, and the only thing they wore was their underwear. They had finally woken up. He observed them, watching them struggle in their bonds more and more as they realized their predicament. Terror and fear would soon set in, and they would be in shock; that would be the perfect time to interrogate them, and learn more about the minds of these sadistic criminals who had murdered four kittens and had also hurt the pretty little thing, according to her own testimony. Removing criminals such as murderers and rapists from Earth’s surface was something he did from time to time; however, it wasn’t really on his life agenda. Perhaps if he was bored or something, he’d do it.
He walked around the prey, hovering over them as they struggled. He estimated both youths to be in their early twenties, or perhaps their late teens. In the old days, the rule had been to never kill a teenager or a child, as they knew not what they did. But as society evolved, youths’ increasing lack of respect for their surroundings and elders had caused him to lower that age limit. He had no difficulty killing a ten-year-old if that person committed a heinous crime against Mother Nature or animals. He was disgusted with the way children were raised nowadays by their incompetent parents. In the animal kingdom—and he didn’t concider humans animals, because they were inferior to animals—did the cubs disrespect their elder? No, they most certainly did not.
He walked over to the white kid, or young adult, or whatever, and removed his gag. He hushed him some while the prey screamed and shouted and tried to spit, but his throat was too dry. He spoke in a very friendly voice—almost a bit gay, because if the prey was straight, it always freaked them out, and if they were gay it might even freak out Nero some—while combing the prey’s hair with his fingers. The kid immediately pulled away, but Tarben Nero Hammond would have none of it and continued petting.
“Relax. Relax, now…would you like some water?”
Not waiting for the answer, he took a bottle and forced water down the kid’s throat. Coughing, cursing, and spitting, the prey started to regain some courage. “What’s goin’ on, man, what the fuck?! Why you doin’ this shit?” It went on like that for next five minutes, and the more time went by, the more courage the prey got. “My pop will kill you, you fucker, you hear?”
Silence.
The prey became uneasy. The moaning of his friend finally got to him. “’Zat you, Anthony, he got you too?”
More moaning.
“Fuck, man, we need to get loose and fuck ‘im up!”
“Did you think I had left the room?” Nero asked quietly.
“Fucker, I will end you, you hear me, slick? I will fucking kill you.”
“You seem to have forgotten who’s tied up here.” Nero grabbed the prey hard, and pulled him off the ground by the hair. The reaction was instantaneous: First a howl of pain, and when the prey realized that his blindfold was about to be removed, he became even more frightened, and all his built-up false rage vanished. The prey trembled and pissed himself.
“You will answer my questions,” the beast said.
The prey tried to nod while screaming in pain.
Nero asked, “Which one of you came up with the idea of murdering the kittens? What goes through your mind when you harm a tiny, defenseless animal? Is it a way for you to feel power? Is it a sexual thing? What drives a person like you to commit such a heinous act? Don’t worry, I’ll repeat the questions as we go along…and believe me when I say this: you will answer them. One way or another.”
He could have added dozens more questions, but he knew that an idiot like this one would take too long in between answers, with its useless blabbering and begging before each question had even been asked.
An hour later, he had received his answers, and all of them were excuses and blame, as always; never once did the prey take responsibility for his own actions.
“So, to summarize: you were high because society has marginalized you, forcing you to become what you are, and therefore you were so mentally incapacitated that you really didn’t know what you were doing. In the end, everything was your buddy’s idea, and you just went along for the ride.”
“Yeah. Yessir. That’s how it was.”
“So what about the woman?”
“What woman?”
Again Eddie found himself hanging in the air by his hair.
“Should I scalp you, Eddie? Or will you answer?”
“Oh, the mermaid bitch! The one swimming. Yeah, we never hurt her!”
Nero lay the prey back on the ground. He placed a knife on the boy’s forehead, and made sure he would feel the cold hard steel; and then he made a small cut along the hairline while pulling on the kid’s hair. When Eddie screamed, Nero stopped. For the moment.
“Bitch just swam by, and Anthony hit her on the head, that’s all!” Eddie screamed.
“So you guys didn’t think she might need saving?”<
br />
“From what?”
Nero only shook his head, because that was pretty much all he was going to get from this idiot.
“The river.”
“What ya mean?”
“She tried to swim ashore, did she not?”
“Fuck, man, I was so wasted I don’t remember!”
“You wanted to fornicate with her, didn’t you? Against her will.”
“Forni what?”
Nero looked up towards the celling, swearing at his own stupidity at using a word like that with this moron. “I meant you wanted to fuck her, rape her real good. Come on, she’s a pretty lady? Hot, right?”
Silence.
“Oh, fuck, now I know,” the white boy finally babbled. “You’re her pop or boyfriend, aren’t you…it was all Anthony! He the one you wanna hurt!”
A long silence from Nero, while Eddie started to tremble and cry like a baby. Once he started to mumble, Nero petted the prey, and then he gagged him again.
Nero repeated the same procedure with Anthony, and now it was Eddie who lay there protesting through his gag while his friend blamed everything on him.
Nero started to sound hesitant, and as his two prey finally fell silent, he started to talk to himself, deliberately making himself seem weak. It didn’t take long before their body language changed, even though they were tied up. Finally he was finished here. It had taken too bloody long anyway, not that Nero wasn’t a patient being; it was just that the likes of these sadistic pricks bored him. But what really angered him was that at no time did either prey apologize or show a hint of remorse for their actions.
It’s a miracle that the police nowadays have the patience not to shoot shitheads like these, he thought, remembering why he didn’t like to harm law enforcement people. Time to speed things up.
He quickly removed their blindfolds, under loud protest. After a while, he hushed them, and both lay crying and staring down on the floor. “Raise your heads, or I’ll castrate you both,” he said harshly.
The Lumberjack Page 17