Rampage

by Roy A. Teel, Jr.

  LAPD had arrived on scene, and Chris gave instructions and then called for his own FBI team to get into the house and gather evidence. He called John’s cell phone but got voicemail. He left a message explaining what happened, and that he was on his way to Northridge Hospital to make sure Vickie was going to be all right. He jumped into his car and while driving at breakneck speed called Jim and asked him to meet him at the hospital.

  Chapter Nine

  “Do innocent people have to die?”

  “I guess so…I’m innocent, and

  according to you, I’m dying.”

  “I’m cold,” Mark said to an empty but well-lit room. He was nude and had been left the way the Eagle found him along with Brad, who was asleep on a gurney next to him, nude as well. Mark could see his breath, and he called out, but there was no response. “Jesus, I’ll die of exposure at this rate.” He tried to move but was unable to, although he wasn’t restrained. He called out again, and a large hulking figure dressed in white with a surgeon’s mask walked up to the table and towered over him.

  “Who are you?” “That’s not important at this moment, Mr. Rubio. Do you want to tell me of the plans being hatched by you and your friends?” Mark looked away and over to Brad on the gurney next to him. “Why isn’t Brad awake?” “Because I don’t want him awake yet, Mark. Answer my question.” “Brad and I have been lovers for nearly four years. His wife doesn’t know he’s gay. He told me before you came to his house that he was divorcing her and coming out of the closet to be with me.”

  “What else did he tell you?” There was a pause in Mark’s breathing, and the Eagle looked down to see him staring wide-eyed at Brad. The Eagle struck him on the chest, and he started to breathe again. He turned his head to see the Eagle staring back at him and asked, “Who are you?” “The person who is going to stop you and your friends.”

  Mark looked away again and said, “Not going to happen. I was supposed to kill Brad tonight, but I knew I couldn’t do it. He told me he knew of our plan, too, but I doubt that he could really have any idea of what is going on, or that you could stop it.” The Eagle pulled out a tablet and pressed a button on the screen, and the room’s cameras came to life. Mark could see himself on several video monitors in the room. He looked back at the Eagle and asked, “When are you going to kill me?” The Eagle rapped on the side of the gurney and said, “For your sake, your death is going to take care of itself.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mark said. “I know about your injuries from the rape and beating that you received a few months ago. I have looked over your medical history. Tonight was the first time you’ve had anal sex since the incident, wasn’t it?” Mark nodded slowly. His head was getting foggy. “Yea…but…um…I was having a great time. I’m feeling a little tired and weak.” The Eagle stood up and started an IV and gave him an injection of adrenalin. His eyes fluttered, and he became more animated.

  “Wow! What the fuck did you give me?” “Adrenaline. It will buy us a little more time as you bleed out.” “Bleed out?” The Eagle nodded. “Your injuries were fixed after the attack, but, unfortunately, your rectum still needed at least a year of healing and probably more surgery before you could engage in anal sex. Your lover over there,” the Eagle pointed to Dell, “is the one who killed you. When he put his penis in you, he ripped out that delicately healing tissue, and you’re now bleeding to death. So…since you’re going to be dead in a few minutes, do you want to tell me about the plot, or are you going to take it to the grave with you?”

  Mark’s face turned to one of sheer panic. He cried out, “You’re lying to me; you’re lying about all of this. You want to scare me into telling you our plans.” “I’m telling you the truth, and with each second that you lie there yelling and screaming, you get that much closer to death and that much farther from helping me stop those involved in this plot. Do innocent people have to die?” Mark laughed and said, “I guess so…I’m innocent, and according to you, I’m dying.” The Eagle leaned in close and said, “Tell me about the plan and who’s involved.”

  As Mark began to lose consciousness, the Eagle gave him another shot of adrenalin, and he woke a little but not near as much as he had a few minutes before. “It’s too late, man…if you found me, then you know who the others are. I don’t know for sure when they plan to attack. There is still unfinished personal business between some of the attackers and their bullies. What do you care? Who the hell are you?” Mark was starting to slip away, and the Eagle said, “I’m the Iron Eagle.” As Mark’s pupils began dilating, his last words were, “Of all the people to be after us, it has to be you…you will kill them all. It’s just a matter of if you catch them before, during, or after. Brad claimed he knew of the plot. Ask…him.”

  After Mark died, the Eagle closed his eyes and turned his attention to Dell. He set an IV line on the sleeping man and prepared to wake him.

  Jim got to Northridge Hospital and met up with Chris in the ER. Chris was frazzled, and Jim asked, “So, what the fuck, Chris…what’s going on?” Chris sat down in one of the waiting room chairs and said, “I fucked up, Jim. I really fucked up. Jerry Pinskey got to her and nearly strangled her to death. Sara and Karen are working on her now.” Jim sat down next to him and said, “Listen, kid…you’re not going to save them all, and you’re not always going to make the right call. You figured the guy would come to the front door, right?” Chris nodded. “Well, you fucked up. Did you know the house backed up to an alley?” Chris shook his head. “The first rule of police work, man, know your fuckin’ stakeout. You need to know entrance and exit points when you’re protecting a witness. Didn’t they teach you that at Quantico?” Chris nodded, and Jim took a cigarette out of his top left pocket and put it in his mouth. “Follow me. I need a smoke.” As he stood up, Chris asked, “What about the girl?” “What about her? She’s in the hands of two great doctors. There’s nothing you can do for her now. It’s up to them. Take a walk with me. I need a smoke, and you need to clear your damn head.”

  Chris followed Jim outside to a small bench with a concrete ashtray and a sign that said, ‘smoking area.’ Jim pulled out his Zippo, lit the smoke, and took a couple of deep hits off it. “So, we know that this Jerry Pinskey kid is bad news.” “Yeah…I didn’t know how bad.” Jim laughed, “He’s a bad guy, Chris. Trust me. Anyone who would attempt to kill a friend is usually a bad guy. I would venture a guess that he’s the ring leader in this mess.” Jim looked around and asked, “Where the fuck is Swenson?” “I don’t know. We interrogated the girl right here, and he told me to take her home and wait for Pinskey, that he had something to do.”

  Jim took another hit off his cigarette and asked, “What did she tell you two?” “That one of her friends, Mark Rubio, was going to try to kill a teacher tonight. She gave us the details and some other information, and John told me to take her home and he left.” Jim nodded, blowing smoke out his nose and mouth. It rose up the right side of his face and made his eye water. “Well…if John’s on the move, we will most likely get more information on this situation soon.” Chris looked at him and asked, “What the hell does that mean? ‘If John’s on the move?’” Jim laughed and said, “You have a lot to learn about police work, kid, a whole helluva lot.”

  Chris started to say something when he saw Sara come out the ER doors into the lobby. He stood up, and Jim followed. Chris didn’t like the look on Sara’s face. “How is she?” “Her assailant crushed her throat and airway. We were able to perform a tracheotomy, which has restored her ability to breathe, but she’s in a coma. She’s in extremely serious condition. We need to notify her next of kin. She was without oxygen for over four minutes, so she might have serious brain damage. We won’t know for a day or so.”

  Jim looked at Sara and asked, “Have you done an EEG?” “Yes…she has brain activity; she’s not brain dead.” Sara looked at Chris and said, “That’s a good thing, Chris. It gives me more hope that she will pull through. Wher
e’s John?” “Beats the fuck out of us,” Jim said, “Chris says that John got some information out of the girl before the Pinskey kid tried to kill her, and he is on the move.” Sara nodded, and Chris asked again, “What the hell would John be on the move on? You two know more about John than you’re telling me.” Sara laughed and started back into the ER. She said with her back to Chris, “You’re kinda slow, Chris, but I’m sure you’ll catch up…eventually.” Chris looked at Jim who shrugged his shoulders and said, “She’s not fuckin’ wrong. Come on. We need to get to this girl’s house and the crime scene and see what… if anything…they have learned.”

  Jerry made his way to the house on Quartz where Tim and Alan were already working. He walked in out of breath and Tim asked, “What the fuck, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Jerry sat down at the dining room table where the boys were typing away on their laptops. He said, “I think I killed Vickie.” They both looked up, and Tim asked, “You think you did what?” “She’s the mole. She’s the one who’s been talking to the cops. I was at her house, and I confronted her on it. I lost it, man. I just fuckin’ lost it and started choking her out when all of a sudden there was a fuckin’ FBI agent busting through the front door. I barely got away. I think I killed her. There’s no way she can talk. I’m sure of it.”

  The boys sat silent with shocked looks on their faces. Tim was about to say something when he heard Debbie clear her throat, “You killed my best friend? You killed my best damn friend. OMG! Why?” Jerry looked over at Debbie and said, “Because you have been talking WAY TOO MUCH. You told her too much, and she was in contact with the cops. The sheriffs on Tim’s front stoop…that was no joke. They were looking for us…all of us.”

  Debbie sat down next to Tim and asked Jerry, “Did she tell you that?” “She didn’t have to. I know it. I called one of my neighbors, and he told me that the sheriff was at my house looking for me and wanted to talk to me. He told me that the deputies left a card with him and asked him to call when I came home. They are most likely going from house to house, Deb, and it’s your damn fault.” She sat up straight and said, “Vickie has no idea the depth of this plot, Jerry. She knew that you killed Brian and about Tim and me and what happened with Rocky as well as Greta and Beth.”

  “Did she know about Mark and what he’s doing as we speak?” Debbie fell silent. Jerry yelled, “DID SHE KNOW ABOUT MARK AND WHAT HE’S DOING, YOU LITTLE BITCH?” Debbie was looking down at the tabletop. He threw a glass across the room, and it smashed into the wall. “You have no idea what you have done, do you Deb? You have compromised our whole fuckin’ mission. Years of planning, plotting, working to get these fuckers where we want them, and you spout off, and your friend tells the cops. I don’t need her to tell me she did it…for fuck’s sake, the goddamn sheriff and FBI are looking for us. If they get their hands on any of us, we are as good as dead. Do you understand what you’ve done?” Jerry’s voice was hoarse and strained as he asked her the question.

  Tears started running down her face, and Tim looked at her and asked, “Did you really do that, Debbie? Did you tell Vickie the whole plot?” “She was my best friend. We tell each other everything. I told her some stuff, but I did not tell her about the whole plot.” “What else did you tell her?” There was silence, and Alan said, “I have a lead in the chat room in underground five who says that word on the street is the cops are looking for us.” Alan turned his laptop screen, so Tim could read the messages. “What else did you tell Vickie?” There was a moment of silence between all of them, and she said in a soft voice, “I told her to stay away from school on homecoming.” Jerry shot to his feet and reached out for her, but Alan and Tim got between them.

  “YOU TOLD HER?” Tim and Alan were restraining him as he fought to get to Debbie. “So what now, Jerry? I fucked up. I made a mistake. I trusted my best friend…are you going to kill me now? Or maybe Tim or Alan? They know everything about the plot. Keep killing us and you will be alone in this mess.” Jerry shook free and walked into the living room and paced, talking to himself as he walked. He looked at them and asked, “Have you heard from Mark?” They shook their heads. “What about you, princess talks a lot? Have you heard from him?” She shook her head. “I don’t think this is a safe location,” Alan said, looking at his laptop and a message that had popped up on his screen. The message was cryptic but pointed. ‘They know where you are…you don’t have much time to get out and find a new crib.’

  Tim just shook his head and said, “Thanks, Debbie. You turned our lives into a nightmare instead of us doing that to those who hurt us.” Jerry looked at the three of them and said, “I know of another house. It belonged to my aunt and is vacant in Northridge. We can stay there, and there is no way that anyone on the planet will find us.” Tim asked, “What about your friend? The cops and now the feds are going to lean on him?” “I’m fine. No one knows.” Jerry looked over at Alan and asked, “What do your folks know about this plot?” “Nothing…not a damn thing. I have a desktop computer at home, but the cops and feds can sweep that hard drive. They won’t find anything. I have been doing everything on TOR in the deep web.”

  “What about your Internet activity on social media?” Alan laughed. “I post general shit. All they will find are hate messages from people from school. Everyone hates me. Shit, I must have two dozen messages that are telling me to kill myself because I’m a loser.” Jerry asked Tim the same questions. “I have no digital footprint that would point here in the standard web. I have the same hate messages that Alan talks about, saying the same things, that I should off myself. My hard drive is clean. Everything I do is on TOR and is on this laptop and my tablet…and both are with me. My mother knows nothing, but my father is a different story.

  “He and I video chat at least once a week. I do it on my laptop, and it is encrypted by me and the government. My old man knows what I’m going through. He’s the one who has been smuggling in the weapons and the ammunition we have for the plot. I think he thinks it’s a game; at least he talks like we are playing a role play war game. He’s been shipping me all the weapons we have, claiming he is stocking in case the worst happens. He has no idea I intend to use them on the school and my enemies.” Jerry looked at Debbie and asked, “What about you?”

  “Only Vickie…I’m the same as the rest of you. My social status is up to date, and I have tons of messages about how much of a loser I am and how I should kill myself, too. I don’t know a damn thing about TOR nor have I ever mentioned it, not even to Vickie. My folks don’t even know where I am, nor do they care. I live with Tim for the most part, so they are no threat.” Tim looked at Jerry and asked, “What about you, Jerry? Are you clean? You are the king of this plot. Is there anything on your computers that could lead the cops to us?”

  Jerry looked at the three faces staring at him and said, “My laptop has all of my TOR deep web information. It’s password protected and encrypted, but it’s also at my house. I haven’t been home since killing Brian. If the cops are on to us and they serve a search warrant, they could get my laptop.” “Great…you’re in charge, and your shit is sitting at home just waiting for someone to take it.” Jerry said, “It doesn’t matter. We haven’t mentioned anything in our manifesto about where we’re going to strike. We’ll still get a high kill rate at homecoming even though it’s been moved off-campus.

  “Sunday night at the Northridge Mall in one of the empty Anchor department stores. Everyone who is anyone in school will be there, plus all of the teachers and administrators. We can get a great kill rate, and we also can escape easily after we have hit them with everything we have.” Alan and Tim sat back down, as did Debbie, and started typing. Jerry was calmer and said, “You did wrong, Deb. You put the whole plot in jeopardy not to mention our lives.” She nodded. He continued, “Let’s hack the database at the mall. We can break in tomorrow night and start setting up bombs and trip mines at the emergency exits. When the shooting starts, they will all run. There
will be hundreds of the fuckers and for every one who makes it to an exit, they will just blow more and more of the group to hell.” Tim and Alan nodded as they typed. Debbie sat silent as Jerry paced, talking to himself and them about the new plan to open up a rampage on those who had done them wrong.

  Brad Dell awoke to the smell of burning flesh and a pain in the middle of his chest. He was still groggy and not sure what was happening until he realized the flesh that was burning was his own, and that a large man dressed in white was pressing a steel rod hard into the middle of his chest. Brad felt the pain of the branding iron and tried to scream but could not get his breath. He moved his head from side to side as his assailant continued. When the rod was taken away, the smell of flesh and the agony of the burns took hold, and he started screaming. The Eagle put the branding iron down and gave Brad an injection of a pain killer. Brad’s pain level began dropping, and he became happier. He looked at the masked man and asked, “Why are you doing this to me?”

  The Eagle pointed to Mark. “Who are you?” “I’m the Iron Eagle, and the kid is dead. He died as a result of your sex acts on him this evening and injuries he sustained as a result of your actions and the actions of Coach Trent Hameln. Do you remember what you two allowed to happen to this kid who says he was your lover?” Brad looked over at Mark’s still corpse, and his eyes filled with tears. “He’s dead?” “Yes, Mr. Dell, he’s dead and not as a result of anything that I did to him. He’s dead because of your actions and inactions. He did tell me before he died that you claim to know of a plot that he and his friends are involved in. Is that true?” Dell winced against the restraints the Eagle had running across the upper part of his chest. They pressed down on the burnt flesh where the Iron Eagle had branded him.