Fred grabbed the cordless phone in the kitchen and dialed 911. When an operator answered, he briefly told them where he was and what he had witnessed, saying that his wife lay dead on the kitchen floor and that the suspects were somewhere in his yard. He gave a description of his car and told the operator that it looked like the suspects planned to take his car when they left. He set the phone down on the counter without hanging up, and stealthily entered the garage.
Chapter 11
About a mile away, Steve was fighting his way through the thick underbrush. He was headed back to the patrol car, having all but given up on tracking these guys. With every step, he cursed the brambles and branches that seemed to reach out for him to hinder his progress. He was no tracker like Tom was, so he figured he’d get back out to the main road and travel in the general direction that the escapees had gone. He reached the car and hopped in with a sigh of relief.
Steve turned the key and smiled at the satisfying roar of the engine. Cool air washed over him from the air conditioner, and he let it envelope him for a minute before he put the car in gear and left the dump behind. The radio crackled to life, as the dispatcher announced a home invasion robbery and homicide at Fred Grimsley’s house, which was in the direction that the escapees had gone. He answered the call and pulled out onto the main road.
Steve headed East, in the direction the escapees had gone. After a few minutes, Steve saw a mailbox next to a gravel driveway on the right side of the road. The house, which was hidden from the road, was set back from the road about hundred yards, and was barely visible through the trees. This was the Grimsley’s house, and it was, by his estimation the closest house to the dump, so if the escapees had continued in the same direction they had started out in, they should be here.
Steve pulled over onto the shoulder, and turned off the headlights. He drove the car into the tree line and turned off the engine. Years ago he had learned to disconnect the fuse that controlled the interior dome light, so the lights wouldn’t come on when he opened the door of the car. He carefully opened the driver’s door and slipped out, closing the door gently behind him. He carefully threaded his way through the trees and underbrush toward the house, avoiding the driveway and being careful not to step on anything that would make noise.
Steve could see lights through the trees, and knew that this must be the house. He felt a sense of urgency, but knew that he had to approach stealthily to keep the element of surprise. He saw movement near the house, but couldn’t tell what was going on yet, because of the distance between him and the house, and the heavy underbrush.
A minute or so later, Steve heard the engine come to life, and heard gravel crunching under the tires of a car. Steve fought his way through the underbrush, and realized that the only way to intercept the car was by fighting his way back to the driveway. The bushes and trees seemed to fight him all the way to the driveway, but he desperately fought against them, and finally prevailed, stumbling out onto the driveway and falling to his hands and knees. “Get up!” he hissed at himself, as a vehicle came into view. Steve quickly crawled back into the bushes and came to his feet, cursing his clumsiness.
The car, an old Buick Roadmaster, was creeping up the driveway slowly with the headlights off. Steve could make out at least two silhouettes through the windshield, and as the car drew closer, he recognized the driver as one of the fugitives. He believed that this was the one nicknamed “Diablo.”
Chapter 12
Tom could see a farmhouse through the trees. He had followed the path that the escapees had taken through the woods, and had finally caught up with them, he hoped. Tom carefully picked his way through the underbrush in the direction that the escapees had gone and quietly drew his weapon. Tom had been issued a Sig Saur P220 pistol by the department. It was a very accurate weapon, and held twelve .40 caliber rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. Tom kept his weapon low along the seam of his pants, and crept toward the clearing. The sun was about to come up, and the sky was beginning to lighten.
Just before he reached the clearing, Tom tripped over an object on the ground. He steadied himself, and reached down to feel what he had tripped over. It took a couple of seconds for him to realize what the object was, but when he did, he dropped it like it had been on fire. It was an arm! A human arm, and by the looks of it a left arm. “What the hell,” he muttered to himself. Tom searched for the owner of the arm, but all he found was a massive amount of blood all over the ground. As far as he knew, arms didn’t just spontaneously fall off of people, so someone had been attacked, probably by one of the escapees, and had lost an arm, ouch!
Tom quickly scanned the yard in front of him, and saw a dark spot on the yard about twenty feet away. This must have been where the victim had been attacked, he thought. Whoever this arm belonged to would either be dead or in serious need of medical assistance. Tom thought he had heard a scream earlier, but had thought at the time that it was a wildcat or something. The hairs on the back of his neck felt as if they were standing straight up, and he started sweating, even though it was nearly fifty degrees outside.
With a sense of urgency, Tom ran along the tree line toward the house, keeping low. He stealthily made his way to the house scanning for any sign of life. The back door looked as if it had been kicked in, and when he sneaked a quick peek into what appeared to be the kitchen, he saw a body lying on the floor.
Tom approached the body, noticing that it was a motionless woman, who appeared to be either badly injured or dead. He put his head to her chest and looked for the rise and fall of her chest. He felt for a pulse, and thought he felt something, so he grabbed a glass and put it to her lips, looking for her breath to fog the glass. She was breathing, but barely. He hated to leave her, but knew that the fugitives may still be lurking in the house. He quickly scanned the kitchen, and found the telephone off the hook. He picked it up and realized that the emergency dispatcher was still on the line. He asked the dispatcher to send a life flight unit to the address with paramedics, because the victim was still alive, but barely.
Tom heard the sound of a car starting, and he made his way to the door leading to the garage from the kitchen. There were no lights on in the house, and as he entered the garage, he noticed that the garage door was open. The garage was empty, but he heard the sound of a car on the other side of the house, with the unmistakable crunching sound of a car driving on gravel. Tom sprinted out of the garage and onto the driveway in time to see taillights disappear in the distance. A second later, he heard gunshots coming from the direction in which the car had traveled. Tom grabbed his cell phone, and called Steve.
Chapter 13
When Fred had entered the garage, he had slit the sidewalls of both rear tires with a carpet knife he kept on a counter in his garage. This, he hoped, would cause the tires to go flat in a couple of miles. Fred had grabbed the spare set of keys from a peg on the wall next to the kitchen door, and now he quietly opened the trunk and climbed in. He took off his belt and wrapped it around the trunk latch so it wouldn’t close all the way, and gently eased the trunk lid down until it looked like it was closed.
Fred thought about Melissa and a mixture of sadness and rage welled up in him. How could anyone hurt such a sweet, kind woman? Where would they stop? Fred felt that it was going to be up to him to stop these animals. He was going to make them pay for killing Melissa.
As Fred lay there in the dark, he heard people approaching the car dragging something. He heard a door opening, and something heavy was tossed into the back seat. There was a groan from the back seat, and the car door closed. A few seconds later, two people entered the car and sat down. Fred could feel the car bounce slightly, the old leaf springs groaning under their weight. These guys must be pretty big, Fred thought, judging by the way the car bounced when they sat down in it.
The engine turned on and the car began to move forward. Fred heard the crunching of gravel under the tires, so they must be moving slowly up the driveway toward the main road
. Every muscle in his body was tensed. He had to be ready to pounce and move fast when the car came to a stop. He figured that one or both of the tires would go flat or blow out soon, and when these morons got out to check, he would give them a hot lead breakfast.
Fred imagined the scenario in his mind, and visualized what he would have to do to stop these animals. He saw the tire exploding, and the criminals cursing as they pulled to the side of the road. He visualized them getting out of the car and walking to the back of it to check out what had happened. He saw them kicking the tires in disgust and going to open the trunk. He saw the trunk opening and the shocked look on their faces as they stared into the barrel of Fred’s shotgun. Their shock turned to anger as they made their fatal (and final) mistake of underestimating him. Fred visualized himself pulling the trigger and racking the slide as fast as he could, stopping only when he heard the click of the firing pin falling on an empty chamber. He saw a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel of the gun as he imagined himself climbing out of the trunk victorious. He imagined reloading the shotgun as he walked around to the side of the car. Then he saw himself opening the car door and visualized the one-armed criminal lying there bleeding all over the interior of the car.
Fred was abruptly brought back to reality a few seconds later by the pop, pop, pop sound of gunshots, and the shattering of glass. A hole appeared in the trunk lid, and he heard a whizz-thud sound as a bullet slammed into the side of the trunk inches from his right foot. “Holy crap, that was close,” he muttered to himself. He heard a gargled scream come from the front of the car, and suddenly the car rapidly accelerated wildly, throwing Fred around in the trunk. Fred almost lost his grip on the belt when the car made a sharp right turn onto the road, tires screaming in protest. With these idiots driving like this, he thought, it would probably only be seconds before the rear tires blew out.
Chapter 14
Diablo had walked through the backyard with Slasher to check on Doc and the farmer. Too bad this idiot had killed the woman. They could have used her as a hostage. At least, he thought, he might still be able to steal the farmer’s soul when they got a safe distance away. Right now, he wanted to put as much space between himself and that hellhole of a prison as possible. At last, they reached the place where they had dragged the two unconscious men. To his astonishment, Doc was the only one there. He looked bad and smelled even worse. What the hell, he thought. Not only did Doc get his arm lopped off, but he crapped his pants. “Oh, wonderful!” Diablo said, “He is leaking out of everywhere.”
“Where the hell is the farmer?” said Slasher.
“I don’t know. Maybe he ran away. I know that’s what I’d do if I was him.”
“Let’s get outta here,” said Slasher.
Diablo grabbed Doc around the chest from behind, with his arms under Doc’s remaining arm and the stump that used to be his left arm, and dragged him backward toward the house. “Damn, this guy’s slippery,” said Diablo.
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you get blood all over you,” said Slasher.
He would know, thought Diablo. It was rumored that Slasher had killed a dozen or more people with a knife, and watched them bleed out. Diablo admired his style. Slasher’s killings were all up close and personal. He got to watch their souls leave their bodies and the light to leave their eyes. He wanted to experience this again so badly it hurt. It was a deep ache, like homesickness, and he yearned for this like a small child yearns for home.
They finally made it back to the garage and Slasher opened the back door of the car for Diablo, who heaved Doc inside. Diablo got into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine. He loved these old cars. They were built like tanks and had plenty of power. They were also very roomy, and you didn’t feel crowded when you drove them.
Diablo steered the car around to the front of the house, and turned onto the driveway. He drove up the long driveway through the woods, thinking that these people were smart. You couldn’t have seen the house from the main road, so they had all the privacy they wanted. Diablo rounded a slight curve and the main road came into view.
At that moment, shots rang out and all hell broke loose. The windshield exploded, and a bullet hit the headrest behind his head and the headrest exploded. Then the passenger window exploded and blood splattered all over the side of his face. Something wet dropped into his lap. When he looked over at Slasher, he looked like something out of a horror movie. A bullet had passed through his face at the jaw line, and his tongue hung down like a necktie. Diablo looked at his lap, and realized that Slasher’s lower jaw bone was lying in his lap, and had been blown completely out of Slasher’s face.
A third shot struck the back passenger window and went through the rear window into the trunk. Diablo punched the gas pedaled as hard as he could, and the car lurched forward spinning tires and spitting gravel. “Holy Crap!” he shouted. “What was that about?” An unearthly scream escaped Slasher as he reached for his jawbone and stuffed it back into his mouth.
Chapter 15
Steve stepped out from the bushes as the car approached his hiding spot beside the driveway. He drew his pistol and aimed at the driver through the windshield of the car. Steve took aim with his pistol, and just as he was about to shout “Stop, Police!” the headlights turned on blinding him. Steve squeezed the trigger as he dove out of the way of the car, which was now bearing down on him. His first shot struck the windshield and seemed to deflect, because it missed the driver by an inch to the left. When he fired again, the car was almost even with him, and he was sure that he had struck at least one of the occupants. He fired a third time, but the shot went wild, shattering the rear passenger window and back window of the car.
The car accelerated and made a right turn onto the main road, fishtailing on the loose gravel and spraying Steve with rocks, which bounced off his chest and head as he shielded his face with his arm. Steve struggled to his feet again, and ran up the driveway to the road. He had to make it back to his car before the other car drove out of sight.
Just then, his cell phone rang. He answered it, discovering that it was Tom calling. “Where the hell are you?” he asked.
“Who was doing the shooting?” asked Tom
“I did. When I saw the car, I fired two times. I think I hit one of them, but can’t be sure.
“I was running up the driveway, when I heard the shots.”
Steve got in the car and fired up the engine just as Tom arrived. They took off in a cloud of dust in the direction that the other car had gone. Steve knew what his car was capable of, and knew that he could overtake almost any car on the road, but he also knew that if the other car turned off on a side road, they might lose the car.
Steve and Tom were hurtling down the road at breakneck speed, and the car was actually getting airborne at the crest of every hill. After a minute or so of desperately trying to catch up to the criminals, they finally caught sight of the other car. The car was about a quarter mile ahead of them, and they were gaining fast. They saw the other car’s tail lights disappear over a hill ahead of them. When they came over the hill, the other car was nowhere in sight.
Steve turned to Tom and asked him, “Did you see a turn off back there?”
“No,” said Tom.
“How did we lose them so fast?”
“Maybe they crashed.”
Steve slammed on the brakes, and turned the car around. “Maybe they died and we can stop searching for them and go home,” said Tom.
“We couldn’t get that lucky,” said Steve.
Steve had to drive about a mile and a half back to where he guessed they had lost the other car. “They killed Mrs. Grimsley back at that house,” Steve said.
“No, they nearly killed her, but hopefully she’ll be alright. I found her in the kitchen and she was still breathing,” Tom said.
“Was Mr. Grimsley around?”
“No, but he must have called 911, because the phone was off the hook when I got there. He must have thought she
was dead when he called.”
“Man he must be pissed,” Steve said.
Chapter 16
“Aaaaaaagh!” screamed Slasher as he desperately tried to stuff his jawbone back into his gaping mouth. This screaming, along with the flying glass, the thunderous boom, boom, boom of the gunshots, and the crazy fishtailing of the car, woke Doc in the back seat. “What happened, and where am I?” Doc moaned. He looked at the stump where his left arm had been and everything seemed to come into focus. Slasher and Diablo had packed the wound with bed sheets, and the bleeding had apparently stopped for now. He had to admit that for a couple of knuckleheads, they had done a pretty good job of stopping the bleeding and wrapping the wound. He realized that he must have lost a substantial amount of blood, and this worried him, but he felt confident that he would survive if he managed to somehow avoid the cops that would surely be searching for him by now.
He sat up a little, just enough to get a look at Slasher, who looked positively grotesque fumbling with his lower jaw. Now that was disgusting! Diablo turned to Doc and said, “Can you fix him, Doc?”
Surely he was joking, doc thought, but since Diablo wasn’t smiling, and Slasher was still screaming, Doc surmised that he must be serious. “First, we have to get to a place where we have some privacy. Then I will need some basic medical supplies.”
“What medical supplies?” Asked Diablo.
When Slasher heard Doc and Diablo talking about fixing him, he screamed even louder. He had, after all heard about the “operations” Doc had performed, and he wanted no part of that.
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