Life Rage

by L. L. Soares

  “Are we still going back there?”

  “Frankly, I don’t know what to do. I’d like to check the scene out, but it’s swarming with cops now. And Jeremy’s killer won’t be anywhere near there.”

  Jeremy’s picture faded. To be replaced with someone new.

  “Oh my God,” Colleen said. “That’s him.”

  Viv still had her back to her. She didn’t ask what Colleen meant, it was clear enough.

  “One of the cars involved in the crash was registered to Dr. Sam Wayne, but police did not find him at the scene of the accident. Anyone with information as to the whereabouts of Dr. Wayne is requested to call the following number.” A phone number flashed onto the screen below her. “The driver of the other vehicle, Alfredo Lima, was pronounced dead on arrival at County Hospital.”

  “Sounds like he’s been really busy today,” Viv said. “You’re sure that’s him, huh?”

  “I’d bet my life on it.”

  “Well, at least we have a name to go on. And a face. I just hope we find him before the police do.”

  She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and pushed buttons.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “I have friends who can find out information for me, quickly. It shouldn’t take too long to get a lead on this Dr. Wayne.”

  Viv turned off the television and led Colleen outside. The number she called rang, but nobody picked up. That was okay. She had other numbers. She stopped a minute to turn to Colleen.

  “You know, since I know where Jeremy was killed now, there’s no reason you have to come with me.”

  “Please, Viv. I want to come along.”

  “Okay,” Viv felt relieved. She didn’t really want to risk leaving Colleen behind and maybe coming back to find that she’d cut herself to pieces, this time maybe for good.

  Colleen followed her out to the garage. Viv’s BMW was in there.

  Viv got inside and turned the key. The engine came to life without hesitation.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  All he knew was that Dr. Wayne had brought him to a different place, but he had no memory of traveling.

  Charlie almost had his hands free of the ropes that were tied behind his back, when the shrink returned. He could hear the door opening, and then closing. Slamming.

  There was always the chance it could be someone who came to rescue him. Someone had been here before, ringing the doorbell incessantly. But they’d given up and gone away. Maybe they’d come back. There had to be hope. Except that it was fading fast. Despite a strong desire for it to be otherwise, he knew who it was.

  Charlie thought about his mother and stepfather, slain in front of him. Of the fury

  he’d felt when he found out he was Dr. Wayne’s prisoner. The desire to kill the man had been strong in his mind.

  It wasn’t so strong anymore. His anger, which seemed so important to Dr. Wayne, was dying out. It was replaced with something stronger now. Fear.

  Charlie was in a bathtub, his arms and legs tied behind his back, like a calf at the rodeo. He’d almost gotten his hands free, then he could free his feet as well. He might even escape, if he had any more feeling in his limbs.

  The bathroom door opened. Charlie saw someone’s silhouette, standing in the doorway, through the transparent vinyl of the shower curtain. The person moved toward him, and slid the curtain aside, tearing some of the hooks free in the process.

  From his angle, Charlie could barely see the man standing over him. But he saw enough to know who it was.

  “It’s time to go,” Dr. Wayne said. His voice did not sound human anymore.

  Charlie tried to respond, but the tape over his mouth prevented him from making real words.

  “It’s time to go,” Wayne said again. “But you’re not coming with me this time. I don’t need you anymore. When you were angry, you were useful to me. But you’ve lost that. You’re just a frightened little pup, now. And there are too many of those in the world already.”

  Charlie tried to get angry again. He knew that might buy him some time. Might make him worth something to Dr. Wayne. But he just couldn’t muster it anymore. The sheer hopelessness of his situation had beaten it out of him.

  “We have to part company,” the man said. “I think people might know about me now. They might be coming. I have to get out of here before they get too close.”

  Charlie struggled, but it was a feeble attempt. He was too weak, too defeated by it all. There was no reason to fight anymore. He knew it was futile.

  Dr. Wayne raised a booted foot above him, and the foot came down on him, hard. Charlie closed his eyes and held back the tears. There was no point now. Tears would win him nothing. The foot came down on him again and again. He could feel vomit and blood pushing up out of his mouth, but the tape over his mouth wouldn’t let it out. He started choking. And still the foot came down. He could feel his ribs shatter beneath it. The foot moved up his body. His spine must have been crushed, because all sensation suddenly left his body. There was no more pain. Then the boot came down on his head. Once, twice. And it was over.

  * * *

  Sam kept stomping on the body, watching the blood flow down toward the drain at Charlie’s feet. He was little more than pulped flesh and bones at this point.

  “You’re useless to me now,” Sam said, when he’d stomped on the body a final time. “I have to get out of here.”

  He left the bathroom and went to pack his clothes and other things in a suitcase, but he moved slowly, like a man in a trance. He wouldn’t have even thought to do such a thing, except there was a tiny part of his consciousness that made him think it was necessary. He was going on a trip. He needed a change of clothes.

  When he was packed, he pushed a curtain aside and looked out the window. Nobody was out there yet. No police cars, no teams of people. He still had time. The only thing out there that seemed unusual was an unfamiliar car in front of the house next door. He couldn’t tell if anyone was inside, or who they were. It didn’t matter. They were no threat to him.

  He grabbed his suitcase and looked around the house one last time, wondering if he’d forgotten something, but having no idea what it could be.

  * * *

  “Do you think he’s in there?” Colleen asked.

  “Who knows,” Viv said, her hands still on the steering wheel, even though they’d parked. She’d made the right calls to find out where to find Sam Wayne’s house. “I don’t know what made me bring you along. You shouldn’t be here. This guy’s dangerous.”

  “He killed Jeremy. He killed Turney.”

  “I know. And he’ll kill you if you get in his way.”

  “What about you?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Colleen looked at her. “How can you be so sure? He could kill you, too.”

  “Maybe.”

  Viv reached into her coat and took out the gun. “Maybe not.”

  “You’re going to shoot him?”

  “I’m sure as hell not going to talk him to death.”

  Viv took the cell phone out of her other pocket. It was small enough to fit in her hand. She gave it to Colleen.

  “Who do you want me to call?”

  “Right now? Nobody. But if something goes wrong, I want you to call the police. I don’t want him getting out of here. I don’t want him killing anybody else.”

  “How will I know if something goes wrong?”

  “I certainly don’t want you to go inside with me. Let’s give it fifteen minutes. If I don’t come out in fifteen minutes, then call the police. Can you drive? I want you to drive away as soon as you call. Or maybe drive away first.”

  “What if he’s not in there?”

  “Well, there must be a phone in there. I’ll just call the cell phone. If he’s not there now, I’m going to have to wait for him. I didn’t come all this way for nothing. You just stay out of sight, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Wish me luck.”

  Viv opene
d the door on her side and got out. “Don’t forget, if there’s any sign of trouble, drive away and make that call. If I’m in there and he starts coming down the street, make some kind of noise so I know.

  She grabbed the cell phone and made a quick call. She gave the address they were at and wrote down a number on a scrap of paper. Then she hung up. “Here,” she said to Colleen. “If you see him approaching the house, call this number. It’s for his phone. Just let it ring twice and hang up, so I’ll know it’s you. But don’t beep the horn, whatever you do. That might tip him off.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want to get revenge for Jeremy. I want to do this myself. But if something goes wrong, I don’t want him to get away.”

  “I know.”

  “Now scoot over and get behind the wheel.”

  Viv closed the door and started moving toward the house. Colleen watched her in the rear-view mirror. She went up on the lawn and walked around the building, heading toward the back.

  Colleen held her breath and looked at the phone in her hand, hoping she wouldn’t have to use it.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Viv jimmied the lock on the back door and quietly opened it. In her other hand was the gun, just in case someone was expecting her. You never know.

  When she got the door open, the first room she entered was the kitchen, and it was empty. The light was out.

  She slowly made her way to an adjoining room, a living room, with a couch and a television. That room was quiet as well.

  It wasn’t as dark in the living room, though. One of the shades was slightly open. She could see the furniture outlines in the faint light. It would be nightfall soon.

  I should have brought a flashlight along, she thought. In her hurry, she knew she’d forgotten something. But maybe it wouldn’t matter. If she got out quickly enough, she wouldn’t even need it. There was no way she was going to turn on the lights, though. Not even for a minute. If he was in the house, it would tell him exactly where she was.

  Viv thought how much easier it would have been to plan all this out. If she’d known beforehand who this guy was, she could have targeted him. Seduced him. Killed him with no struggle at all, and dined on his soul. This way was so much messier.

  Jeremy had told her about this guy. About how Colleen had described him. He was like her. There was something otherworldly about him. Some kind of vision around him that only Colleen saw.

  And all this time, Viv thought there was only one other one like her in the whole world. Grif. And now, to finally find another one. And have to kill him on sight.

  It was kind of sad in a way. To find someone else like her and Grif and to find out he was a homicidal murderer who she had to stop. But then again, weren’t Grif and she murderers, too? Maybe she had more in common with the monster who lived in this house than she realized.

  She wondered, have the police been here? She’d seen the report on TV telling her that Wayne had been in a car accident, but the police had access to the same information she had. They knew who had been in that accident, where he lived. Chances are they’d been here before she had, checking to see if Wayne had come back home.

  She was starting down the hallway, when she heard movement. He was nearby, in one of the rooms.

  She didn’t make a sound, or tried her best not to. She raised the gun, and removed the safety, ready for him to attack. The sounds got louder then.

  He must be distracted, she thought. He wasn’t even aware she was in the house.

  She approached the doorway where the sounds were coming from. She didn’t want this to go on any longer than it had to. The door was slightly open. Was he behind it?

  It flew open then, and someone jumped out at her.

  She leapt out of his way, and he slammed into the wall. It was a powerful crash. It sounded like he’d broken a hole right through.

  Viv reached over and turned on the hall light. There was no reason to conceal herself in shadows anymore. She could see him now, but his face was blurry, indistinct, and red with rage. He didn’t give her a chance to focus before he flung himself at her.

  She aimed the gun at him and fired. There was no way she was going to give him a second chance to lunge at her.

  He did not move, did not cry out, even though she was sure she had shot him in the chest. She raised the gun, aimed for his head. Fired again.

  He darted to one side, avoiding the bullet, and hurled himself down the hall at her.

  She fired one more time before he made contact, and threw her to the floor.

  * * *

  Colleen heard the gunshots. She heard someone cry out. Was it Viv? Should she wait here for Viv to come out, or was she in trouble? Colleen stared down at the cell phone in her hand and wondered if this was time to make the 9-1-1 call.

  What if the police came and found Viv in there, after she’d killed the guy? she wondered. I don’t want them to take her away. To arrest her for this. She’s doing this for Jeremy. She’s doing this for me.

  Heaven knew she wanted Jeremy and Turney avenged. But there was no way she could do it. Viv was her avenging angel.

  She waited. Viv had been in there for ten minutes by the time the gunshots went off. She’d agreed to wait fifteen.

  She rolled up all the windows, and locked the doors. And waited. Ready to punch the numbers on the phone.

  * * *

  The gun was gone. Not that it had done much good, but she’d just felt better holding it in her hand. Now it was somewhere on the floor, just another failed attempt.

  He had a tight grip on her, and kept slamming her into walls. Somehow, she’d stayed conscious.

  She’d used her moves on him, taking advantage of her training over the years, but nothing seemed to stop this guy, or faze him in the slightest. If a bullet didn’t slow him down, Viv was pretty sure that trying to stop this guy was a lost cause.

  And so it continued. He kept hurling the both of them at walls, at furniture, making sure that she took the brunt of the impact. He was trying to knock her out. To crush her. But she resisted.

  If we are alike, she thought through the haze, through the constant battering. Then maybe I’m as tough as you are. Maybe I can take as much punishment as you can.

  But she knew that wasn’t true. She couldn’t survive a bullet to her heart. She’d been injured in the past. She’d been hurt. So maybe they weren’t totally alike after all. But maybe she was just tough enough to beat him somehow.

  He kept throwing her around rooms, and then she bounced off a bathroom wall, falling against a blood-splattered tub. She got her hands out in time, to prevent the porcelain from connecting with her head, and caught a glimpse of what was in the tub. Something that had once been human, and now was so much crushed flesh and bones and blood.

  It was then that his foot came down on her. And any illusion she had of her toughness faded away with her consciousness.

  * * *

  As soon as fifteen minutes were over, Colleen punched the numbers. She was talking on the phone when a police car pulled up in front of Sam Wayne’s house. They were already on their way, before she’d even called. A neighbor must have heard the gunshots and called.

  Regardless, she told the woman on the phone that her friend was in trouble. That she’d been abducted by Dr. Wayne and that she’d heard gunshots from inside the house. Colleen said this because there were only two police officers getting out of the car and approaching Wayne’s house, and she was sure that two wouldn’t be enough. That they would need more. Many more. After what she’d seen him do to Turney, and then Jeremy, she knew that even a dozen cops might not be enough to subdue him.

  She also knew that Viv was probably dead by now.

  She sat in Viv’s car, afraid to start the engine and drive away. Afraid to leave before she knew for sure. She didn’t get out to say anything to the officers, to tell them what she knew. She just sat there, watching.

  Waiting.

  The police officers knocked on the front door an
d waited on the steps. They looked at the house and talked to each other. Maybe they were trying to decide what to do next.

  Then the front door opened and someone grabbed the two men and pulled them inside before they even had a chance to draw their guns.

  The door closed again.

  Colleen sat in the car, frozen. Knowing now that it was time to go. That this was the evidence she needed to know that all was lost.

  But she couldn’t move. Not a muscle.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Colleen sat there in the car, watching the house, and time was as frozen as she was. She had no idea how much longer it took for the sirens, for the other police cars to pull up in front of Sam Wayne’s house.

  There was a lot of activity. Colleen started the car finally, and pulled away from the curb. She drove two more houses down, but she pulled over again and parked. She turned around in her seat and watched the house. Officers surrounded the place and some forced their way inside.

  There were more gunshots. She thought she heard people screaming.

  And then he was running across the lawn. Sam Wayne. He was carrying a suitcase as he made his way toward the police, and she thought it was a surreal moment, because he moved like an animal. He dropped his case as the police approached and grabbed an officer who got too close to him. He ripped the man apart as she and the other officers watched. He threw the pieces back at them.

  Then he stopped where he was and stared at the others who surrounded him. They were watching intently, their guns drawn, waiting for his next move. For some reason, they did not shoot.

  And then something began to happen. The officers stopped watching Wayne and turned their attention to each other. They began to fight, but it wasn’t like anything she had ever seen before, in life or on television. It was worse than fighting—it was more like the way animals tore into each other with tooth and claw. As if the rage and violence inside of Sam Wayne was contagious, a virus that he could spread without effort.