John walked out the office door, and Chris asked Sara, “Where the hell is he going?” Sara and Karen looked at each other, and Sara said, “Hell, if I’m not mistaken.” Chris and Vickie just stared at Sara until he took her by the arm and led her out of the building.
The Elliot house was quiet when two of Jim’s deputies showed up and knocked on the door. It was just six p.m., and the two deputies stood patiently knocking with no response. Tim heard the knock as Mark was getting ready to leave the house. Tim pulled up the cameras he told his mother he installed for security and saw two sheriffs’ deputies standing on his front porch. “Oh, holy fuckin’ shit, man.” Mark and Jerry were looking at Tim’s sheet white face and moved around to see what he was seeing. Jerry saw the cops and said, “That’s not a social call, guys. They are here for us…who the fuck blabbed?” They looked at each other and shrugged. “Are there any lights on in the main house?” Jerry asked, and Tim shook his head. “When is your mom due home?” “Any damn minute, man. Shit. Do you think they have a search warrant?”
Jerry looked at the deputies on the front porch and said, “No…if they had a search warrant, they would not be knocking on the door. We have to get the fuck out of here. Is your car parked in the alley?” Tim nodded, and Mark said, “Mine is parked back there, too. I have to get to Brad’s. I’m sure we can make a break for it out Tim’s window.” Jerry looked down at Tim’s screen and said, “I’m not worried about getting out of here right now. I’m worried about the plan and who blabbed. Where the fuck is Debbie?” “She had study hall. She will be here later. I know what you’re thinking, but there is no way that she said a word. Fuck, man, she killed two chicks.”
Tim grabbed a duffle bag and started stuffing it with clothes. Jerry looked at him and asked, “What about our stash of weapons? We can’t just leave them here…they might not have a search warrant now, but if this escalates, and they can’t find us, they will get one, especially if someone is talking to the cops.” Tim shook his head as he turned his laptop now in a split screen showing the GPS coordinates of Alan, Debbie, Jerry and himself. “No way. Everyone that knows about this plot is where they are supposed to be. I haven’t told anyone about anything we are doing. What about you, Mark?” He shook his head. “Jerry, you’re the mastermind of this operation. Did you tell anyone?” He shook his head. “Well then, all I can figure is the cops got something from the last two crime scenes. But even that doesn’t make sense. They would not be knocking on the door.
Tim watched as the two deputies talked into the microphones on their uniforms and then walked away. He paned the camera out to the street and saw the deputies get into two separate cruisers and drive away. Tim said, “Well, whatever they wanted it wasn’t that urgent.” Jerry looked down at the screen and said, “No. They are off to pick up Alan and Mark. Send Alan a message that he needs to get out of his house.” Tim looked down and asked, “Just where the fuck are we all supposed to go, man?” Jerry thought for a second and then said, “Alan’s folks have a rental house on Roscoe Boulevard. I know that it’s empty. IM him and tell him the situation and see if we can crash there. I’ve taken Vickie there a couple of times. It’s a nice house, fully furnished with a pool and privacy. It’s right off Quartz Avenue just on the other side of Reseda Boulevard on the edge of Reseda and Winnetka. We can hide there. Can you move this weaponry?”
Tim nodded and said, “Yeah…but I’m going to need some help, and no one can tell a soul about this or everything will be destroyed.” The three boys nodded as Tim opened up the false wall in his closet. He grabbed a couple of boxes and suitcases and started handing weapons to the other two until the closet was clear. They went out the back door and through a doublewide gate into the alley. They put all of the weapons and ammunition into Tim’s car and then broke up. Mark drove off to take care of Brad Dell. Tim called Debbie and gave her the location of the new safe house and told her to meet him there. Jerry called Vickie’s cell phone but got voicemail. He left her a message that he would be over to pick her up soon and took off for the house with Alan.
Chapter Eight
“What we are planning would
make anyone a little paranoid.”
Darkness was settling over the Dell residence when Mark knocked on the front door. It was quiet, and then he heard Brad call to him to come in. He pulled on the screen door and walked into the house to find Brad standing in the kitchen, nude, with a glass of wine in his hand and a smile on his face. There was a lightly lit table setting in the dining room for two. The candlelight glistened off the crystal glasses and water pitcher on the table. The room was homey and warm, and Mark hadn’t been in Brad’s house in nearly a year. He walked into the kitchen, and Brad grabbed him by the back of the neck and kissed him long and deep. He took Mark’s hand and put it on his cock, and Mark slowly moved his hand up and down on Brad’s shaft as he started to strip off his clothing. It was easy enough to do; Mark was wearing only a pair of shorts without underwear and a black button up shirt.
The buttons were popping off the shirt as Brad ripped it from his body. Before Mark knew what hit him, he was bent over a dining room chair with Brad grunting and sweating. “Oh, God, I’ve missed you, Mark…Jesus. When’s the last time we fucked?” Mark was trying to get his breath to answer when he felt Brad’s cock enlarge and start throbbing deep inside of him. He could feel the semen rushing into his ass, and it took Mark’s breath away, and he slumped down as Brad lay across his bare back. There were a few moments of silence, then Brad pulled out and pushed Mark to his knees to finish cleaning up his cock. When the ‘sucking and fucking’ were over, he said, “Damn, you’re a good kid…I wish I could be out of the closet and have you here with me all the time.”
Mark was wiping the sides of his mouth as he stood up and said, “But it will never be that way, will it honey?” Brad walked back into the kitchen and poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Mark and said, “You never know. I’m tired of living this lie. I’m going to tell Margo that I’m gay, and that I want a divorce.” That rocked Mark back on his heels, and he sat down on a barstool near the kitchen island gently as he could feel Brad’s semen trying to escape and said, “So you want to leave Margo for me?” Brad nodded, taking a sip of his wine.
“I do, and I will, but there is something that I want you to do for me.” Mark took a sip of the wine and then felt the semen starting to seep out of his rectum. “Just give me a second. I need to use the bathroom. You came hard, and your cum is making a break for it.” He ran to the bathroom holding his ass cheeks together while Brad worked on the meal. When he came back he said, “Wow…it has been a while. The toilet was nothing but a sea of blood after I shit out your cum.” “Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?” Mark shook his head, taking a sip of the wine and said, “No…it doesn’t hurt at all. I figure two months without anal, and after what happened to me in the school bathroom, it will take time to get back in shape. Now, what is it that you want from me?”
Brad put some cheese and fruit on a plate with some crackers and grabbed Mark by the shoulder and said, “Come with me. Let’s have a snack and talk in the bedroom.” There was candlelight and soft music playing in the master suite, and Mark could see the outline of the shotgun next to the bedroom door, leaning against Brad’s dresser. Brad fed Mark a few grapes and said, “I want you to kill my wife.” Mark chewed slowly and asked, “Why don’t you do it?” “You know and I know that I will be the prime suspect. But if you happen to knock her on the head and put her body in the trunk of your car, I’m sure you could get with some of your buddies and take care of her.”
Mark stopped eating and looked at him and asked, “What do you mean by, ‘me and my buddies?’” Brad laughed and said, “I saw Jerry and Brian at the bleachers the other night. I know what Jerry did to Brian. I also know that Tim killed Rocky.” Mark was silent for several minutes, and Brad asked, “Cat got your tongue?” Mark shook his head and said, “I really don’t know
what you’re talking about.” Brad stood up, his husky muscular six foot frame nude in the candlelight. He grabbed a whip out of the closet and then took Mark by the hand and put him in a leather restraint on his knees and said, “Well, I will just have to fuck and beat the memory out of you.” He grabbed a bottle of lube and started to slather it on as Mark pleaded with him not to hurt him.
The black Silverado pulled into a back alley behind the Dell home. It was half past nine. The Eagle stepped out of the truck in his full body armor with a small satchel of zip ties and duct tape. He had a tranquilizer gun on his hip, and he moved to the back gate of the house and entered in silence. The Eagle pressed a button on the side of his mask, and the integrated night vision that he had been working on to make his movements more fluid lit up. He could see a small Jacuzzi, and he could also hear murmurs and whimpers coming from a pair of sliding doors on the far end of the house. He moved toward the sound and saw Mark Rubio on his knees with a larger man behind him, pounding away. The Eagle moved to the doors, and they were open.
Mark was unable to speak. He was just grunting and trying to catch his breath. Brad was pounding away on him and telling him he knew what his friends had done. Brad raised his arm to strike Mark on his back when he felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck. It was only momentary, and he slipped into unconsciousness and out of Mark. Mark looked over to see Brad on the floor, and he started to call to him while resisting and trying to release himself from the restraints when a large, dark figure stepped into the bedroom. Mark looked up to see the pale green eyes of the Eagle’s mask looking down at him. Mark opened his mouth to scream, but the Eagle put his fingers to his lips and said, “You are already in a lot of trouble, Mr. Rubio. Don’t heap any more onto it.” The Eagle shot him with a tranquilizer dart then took both men to his truck, leaving no calling card and the house untouched.
Margo Dell walked through the front door at nine thirty and was greeted by candlelight and the smell of garlic chicken. She walked through the formal living room and into the dining room to see a place setting for two and candles burning on the table. She called out to Brad, but the only thing that greeted her call was silence. She walked back to the master bedroom, but it was empty. She searched the house but found no sign of her husband other than a spilled bottle of lube, a leather whip, some clothing, and a small black bag on the bedroom floor.
Chris dropped Vickie off two doors from her house and watched her head up the walk and go in. He sat and waited for her date to arrive, all the while asking himself, “Where did John go? Why isn’t he in on this surveillance?”
Jerry pulled off Tunney Avenue in Reseda into an alley that separated the lower income blue-collar homes in the more depressed area of the city. He parked outside of Vickie’s house and looked around for any sign of people or vehicles. There was no one else around, and he pushed the broken wood gate on Vickie’s house open and knocked on the back door. At first he thought she wasn’t there. He pulled out his phone to call her when the porch light came on, and the door cracked open. Vickie was still dressed in the same clothes from school, and Jerry said, “That’s what you’re wearing for dinner in a fancy restaurant?” She shook her head and opened the door wide and said, “Come in. I just got home. I haven’t had the chance to change.” He followed her to her bedroom and watched as she undressed and walked into the single bathroom and started the shower. Jerry was impatient with her and said, “Jesus, Vickie, if I knew you were going to have to do a full fuckin’ presentation, I would have brought a damn video game to play.” She frowned and stepped into the shower and talked as the water ran over her body.
“So, what’s going on? I saw I missed a call from you, but I didn’t listen to your message.” Jerry sat down on the toilet across from the shower and said, “We have had to make some new accommodations for the guys as well as Deb and you. The sheriff’s department showed up at Tim’s, and I’m pretty certain that they are heading for each of our houses.” Vickie was washing her hair and asked, “You guys didn’t answer the door?” “No.” “If you didn’t, then how the hell do you know they were there about you or Tim or any of the guys? Maybe they were there for something else.”
Jerry looked through the clear curtain where Vickie was washing her breasts and body and had slowly moved down to her legs. “What the fuck, Vickie? Do you think that we’re paranoid?” “A little bit, yeah!” Jerry just watched her turn her back to him and bend over to shave her legs. He commented on her ass and legs. She laughed and thanked him before shutting off the water and drying off. Jerry was distracted, and she could tell.
“So, what do you think? Do you think that maybe you guys are getting paranoid?” Jerry looked over as she was drying her hair. He waited until she shut off the dryer, so he didn’t have to compete with the noise. “What we are planning would make anyone a little paranoid. I would rather be paranoid than get my ass caught before we can carry out the killings.” Vickie was pulling on a slinky red dress. She had no bra and no panties, and the low cut dress had a small amount of elastic to hold her ample cleavage. She spoke as she put lotion on her legs, “You killed Brian, Jerry. Tim killed Rocky, and Deb killed Greta and Beth. You sent Mark on a suicide mission to kill Brad Dell. You know as well as I do that he won’t be able to do it, and he is most likely either giving him head or getting fucked right now and loving it. Your plan is going to fall apart. You would be better off just dropping out of sight.”
Jerry sat back on the toilet seat and said, “You sure know a lot, Vickie. I don’t recall giving you all those details. Who have you been talking to, or more importantly, who has been talking to you?” Vickie put on some makeup and was brushing her hair. “Debbie told me everything that she knows. We’re best friends. She told me about what you guys are planning, and now that Brian is dead…and I’m not sad about that…I know that you killed him. Deb told me about the stockpile of weapons that Tim has at the house, and she warned me to stay away from homecoming. Come on, Jerry. I don’t need a full page ad in the Times to know what you’re planning. What Tim, Alan, and Mark are putting together with you. You want revenge. You want to take out your aggression for the beatings, the bullying, and the bad shit that you have gone through at the hands of so many for so many years.” She paused and looked at Jerry’s downturned face and continued, “You know damn well you feel bad about what you did to Brian, and I know Timmy way too well. He may not show it on the outside, but inside what he did to Rocky is tearing him apart. As for Mark…I’m sorry, but he is not going to do anything other than probably confess to Coach Dell that he planned to kill him tonight because Dell allowed Brian and the boys to rape and torture him a few months ago. It’s falling apart, Jerry. The plan is falling apart.”
Jerry jumped off the toilet seat and grabbed Vickie by the throat. He pulled her close to his face as he choked her. “What the fuck are you doing, you little bitch? Who the fuck have you talked to outside of Debbie and me?” Vickie was choking and gasping for air as his grip got tighter around her neck. Her eyes were bulging, and she was trying to say, “No one…no one…I swear…no one.”
Chris was sitting in the car watching Vickie’s home. He saw the lights come on at the back, and he was looking at the gray frosted glass of the lighted bathroom window and the light coming through it. He looked down at his watch, and it had been nearly forty-five minutes, so he opened the car door and headed toward the house, listening for any sound. He heard clipped and hushed conversation and then the sound of glass breaking. He ran for the front door with his weapon drawn.
Jerry had lifted Vickie off the floor with both hands wrapped around her throat. She was struggling to breathe and fight him. She swung her right arm widely and struck the bathroom mirror, breaking it and sending shards of glass into the sink. Jerry held her tight in his grip and said, “You little bitch…you’re the one who got the cops to the house. You’re the one who’s talking out there, you fuckin’ cunt.” Jerry threw Vickie down onto the bathroo
m floor, and she gasped for air as he pulled a knife from his waistband and pointed it at her. “You won’t talk to anyone else, you little cunt. I’ll make sure of that.” He started for her as she pushed her back against the bathroom wall and attempted to scream.
Jerry stopped when he heard the sound of breaking glass and a male voice call out, “FBI!” He looked down at Vickie then ran out of the bathroom, jumping through her front bedroom window and running around the corner to the alley and took off in his car. Chris was calling out to her as he cleared room by room with his weapon. He heard her strained voice coming from the bathroom and found her on the floor, her dress hiked up to her throat, her hands at her sides, and her neck purple and swollen. Chris felt for her pulse as she stared off into space, her breathing heavily labored. He called 911 and an ambulance was on its way. He picked her up and laid her on her bed. She looked into his eyes and said in a raspy voice, “I told you he would get to me. He’s killed me.”
Chris stroked her hair and said, “You’re going to be fine, Vickie. You’re going to be just fine. Who did this?” “Jerry. Jerry Pinskey. He’s losing it. He’s going to do worse.” Vickie was blacking out as the ambulance sirens were approaching the house. Chris looked at her slowly dilating eyes and said, “Stay with me, Vickie…hold on just a few more seconds.” He heard the EMTs calling out and yelled out his location. They got in the room and began working on her as he walked out into the front room, pacing, waiting, needing to know that the young girl he was responsible for was going to be okay. There was a flurry of action all around him, yet he stood silent, staring as the paramedics rolled Vickie out with a ventilator bag on her throat. They rushed passed him, and he called out, “What hospital?” “Northridge.”
Rampage Page 7
