Getaway

by Anthony Jacobs

  Slasher had become more and more desperate to find a job. His only real skills were killing and blowing things up. He applied for work as a demolitions expert, but nobody wanted to hire him because of his less than honorable discharge, and his lack of education.

  Slasher found himself watching people and wondering if he should turn to a life of crime. What if he followed one of these businessmen to his car and robbed him when he was fumbling for his keys. He began following people, and one day, he robbed a businessman out of desperation. It was dark, and the man never saw his face. Slasher hit the man on the back of his head with a wrench and knocked him out. He stole the man’s wallet and briefcase.

  Later at his apartment, Slasher had opened the briefcase and found a bunch of sales brochures and a set of really nice knives. He had read the brochures, and was impressed with the knives. The next day, he called the company and applied for a job.

  To his surprise, the company had hired him as a salesman, and shipped him ten sets of knives for him to sell, along with brochures. He had to travel to their corporate headquarters in Michigan for an orientation, which he did the next week.

  Soon Slasher was a door-to-door salesman. He made two sales his first day, and his spirits picked up. By the end of the first week, he had sold all ten sets of knives. He called the corporation, and they sent him ten more sets. The second week, he sold three sets of knives, and the third week he only sold one. By the end of the month, he had sold sixteen sets of knives, and had knocked on nearly every door in town. When he got paid his commission by the company, he realized that he would barely make the rent for the month, and still had bills piling up.

  Slasher drove thirty miles to the next town, and started knocking on doors. Several people seemed interested, but even after he spent the time making his pitch and demonstrated the knives for these people, they turned him down. His frustration began to build when he realized that if he didn’t make some sales soon, he wouldn’t be able to pay his bills.

  The next house he came to was owned by a middle-aged couple, that invited him in. He spent an hour making his speech and showing them how his knives could even cut a tin can, but after all that, they replied that they were not really in the market for a new set of knives. Upon hearing this, Slasher lost it. He sliced, he diced, he cut them up into bite-sized pieces.

  Slasher went home and cleaned up and changed clothes. Next time, he would bring a set of coveralls, he thought. He couldn’t afford to keep burning his sales clothes, and bloodstains never came out.

  The next day, he killed two other couples in a similar way. He was really starting to get good at killing. He didn’t really enjoy it that much, but felt that these people were preventing him from being able to pay his bills by not buying his products, and wasting his time. He got rejected hundreds of times, but most people who didn’t want to buy anything would simply say no, and no time was wasted, so he didn’t really blame these people. It was the ones that acted interested, had him give his speech, and demonstrate his knives, and then said no, that really pissed him off.

  The killings got national attention because of the nature of the crimes, and how random they seemed. The Police were convinced that they had stumbled onto a serial killer, so they asked the public for any information that would lead to his capture and arrest.

  A few weeks later, a concerned citizen had called the Police saying that they had seen a salesman enter their neighbors’ house and come out later carrying a large trash bag. The caller gave a description of the salesman’s vehicle, but hadn’t been able to see the license plate. The Police started looking for Slasher’s car, and located it parked in front of a house in a residential area. The officers peeked through a window into the house, and discovered Slasher standing over two mutilated bodies covered in blood. Blood splatter covered the walls and ceilings of the room, and he had a determined look on his face. The officers had kicked the door in and arrested Slasher.

  Slasher had been tried and found not guilty by reason of insanity. He was sentenced to twelve consecutive life terms suspended pending psychiatric treatment at the asylum. As long as he could convince the doctors that he was crazy, he would stay out of the regular prison. He knew, however, that he couldn’t convince them forever, and that sooner or later he would be sent to prison for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 31

  As Doc sat there watching Slasher, he thought to himself; how had it come to this? What had he done to deserve this life? He had dedicated his life to trying to help people, and had been treated like a common criminal for his troubles. He had first decided to become a doctor when he was eight years old. He had been playing on the playground with his friends when one of his friends had fallen and dislocated his shoulder. He had pulled the shoulder back into the joint, even though his friend had screamed like he was being tortured. What thanks did he get? His friend accused him of trying to kill him and he had been suspended for a week.

  Even though he had been punished for helping his friend, he didn’t want to stop trying to help people. Because of this, everyone started calling him Doc, even if it was done jokingly. He decided that when he grew up he would be a doctor.

  His parents were poor and his grades were not great, so his chances of entering the medical program at any college were dashed. He decided that he would teach himself, and threw himself into studying all of the things he felt were necessary to be a good doctor. Some of the subjects he studied were not on any school curriculum, such as metaphysical healing, spiritualism, Voodoo, and witch doctors and their rituals.

  He started out by experimenting on neighborhood animals. His success rate wasn’t phenomenal (he had a 98% mortality rate), but he felt that he had helped them, anyway. At least they didn’t complain and get him in trouble.

  He would find dogs that limped, and try to reset their legs by yanking the leg back into its joint. At first he found that he was over anesthetizing them, because they wouldn’t wake up afterward. He started using a hammer instead of a large rock, and found that it allowed him to have much better control, so his “patients” would often recover enough to limp away when they regained consciousness.

  He also rescued stray cats and neutered them for free. The city should thank him for reducing the number of stray cats that were able to breed and reproduce. His first feline patient had been particularly ungrateful, and had clawed him to ribbons when he had removed the cat’s scrotum with a pair of scissors. After that he anesthetized them beforehand.

  Doc found that some humans needed to be sterilized as well. They were degenerates, and needed to be rendered “safe” for society, because they liked to rape women and children. He performed several of these operations by luring and capturing these men and then eliminating their privates. He was careful not to show his face to any of them, and would return them to alleyways afterward, while they were still unconscious.

  Doc knew, however, that in order to cure this type of person, he would have to delve deeper, into their souls. Often this meant removing all of their internal organs for them, and squeezing the evil out of them. It was a shame that his patients were so wracked with evil, that they didn’t survive the procedure, however, he was hopeful that he could cure them anyway. Either way, they never committed these heinous acts again after the operation.

  Chapter 32

  Diablo wandered through the woods looking for some place they could use as a shelter. He saw a few fallen trees, but thought that these would only shelter one of them. He also ran across a cave, but was afraid to go poking around in there, because he felt that it might be inhabited by a less than friendly animal. After about thirty minutes, he had nearly given up when he saw a shack in the woods. It wasn’t very big, but he thought that all three of them might be able to fit in it.

  Diablo moved closer to get a better look at it, and discovered that it had a padlock on the door. He scrambled around until he found a large rock, which he used to smash the lock. He struck it five times and the darn thing wouldn’t
break. “What the hell! Why won’t this stupid thing break?” he screamed.

  Finally, on the tenth strike, the lock broke and fell on the ground at Diablo’s feet. Diablo waited a few seconds catching his breath, and wiping the sweat from his brow. “That sucked,” he exclaimed to himself, as he pulled the door open and peered inside.

  When the door opened, he saw that the shack was full of dynamite and blasting caps and fuses and wires and other devices. “Great,” he mumbled, “Guess we’ll have to get all of this out of here if we’re going to use it as a shelter.” He also saw tools they might be able to use, and several flashlights.

  Diablo decided to close the door and return to Doc and Slasher, so he could lead them here. This wasn’t the Ritz-Carlton, but it would do, considering their current situation. He got lost several times on his way back to where he had left Doc and Slasher, but he finally made it back there about an hour later.

  By the time he rejoined the other two, Slasher had regained consciousness, and was in a foul mood. Getting shot in the ass tended to do that to a person he thought. Diablo thought about the horrible experience he had with the bull, and vowed to go back and kill that bull slowly and painfully. I wonder if I could kill that damned bull with a fork, he thought. Even that might be too merciful a death for that bastard. After all of the years he had spent in jails and prisons and the looney bin, he had managed to keep his virginity intact, so to speak, and then he escaped and got violated by a bull.

  Slasher was on his feet now, groaning and thrashing about like a zombie. When Diablo saw that Doc had made even larger bunny ears for him, he started to chuckle. This made Slasher even madder, and he lunged for Diablo, who neatly sidestepped him with ease. Slasher became so infuriated, he started ripping small trees out of the ground and throwing them at Diablo. Diablo called out: “If you don’t calm down, I won’t show you the shelter I found.

  This calmed Slasher down a bit, and Doc perked up. “What’s that? Did you actually find a shelter we can use?” asked Doc.

  “Even better,” replied Diablo, “I found an abandoned shack we can use, but we have to clear it out a little or we won’t fit in it.”

  “Ceer ik ouk?” slurred Slasher

  “Yes, it’s full of explosives and fuses right now,” Diablo retorted.

  At this, Slasher looked so excited, Diablo thought he would piss himself. He hadn’t seen Slasher happy before, and this was more than a bit creepy. Slasher was dancing around in his huge bunny ears giggling uncontrollably. If he starts skipping, thought Diablo, I’m going to lose it.

  When Slasher had calmed down a little, Diablo pulled a pill container out of his pocket and handed it to Doc. “Here, this might help both of you with the pain. I swiped it from the medicine cabinet in the first house we were in.” The pill container read Hydrocodone. It was expired, but it would certainly get rid of the pain. Doc gave one to Slasher and took one himself.

  Soon the pain went away, and Slasher was in a better mood. Doc noticed that the pain in his stump had also gone away. He was still pissed that these two morons had forgotten to save his arm, but he also knew that they would have had to keep it on ice to preserve it, and this would have been nearly impossible.

  Diablo led them through the woods to the shack. It took them just twenty minutes to make it to the shack, and when he opened the door and Slasher saw what was inside it, tears of joy welled in his eyes.

  Chapter 33

  Slasher stared disbelievingly at the contents of the shack. He hardly understood their good fortune, but figured that some farmer or mining company must have built the shack to store the explosives, away from any inhabited areas in case there was an explosion.

  Slasher took inventory of the explosives, fuses, detonators, blasting caps, and tools in the shack. If he could smile, he would have had an ear-to-ear grin on his face. This was a gift, he thought. Finally things were going to turn around for them. For the first time since their escape, he finally felt optimistic that they could get away.

  Slasher gathered some of the explosives and wires, and went to work setting up booby traps for anyone who might come looking for them. By the time he was finished an hour later, nobody would be able to get closer than two hundred feet from the shack without triggering the explosives. He saved most of the dynamite for later, because they might need it for their escape, and if they were able to give the cops the slip, he planned to teach the farmer a lesson. He promised Diablo that he would save the last stick of dynamite for the bull. Apparently, Diablo wanted some well done steak later.

  Next, Slasher decided that they needed an escape route so they wouldn’t be trapped in the shack with no way out. He grabbed a shovel and motioned to Diablo to do the same. Slasher also grabbed a lantern and discovered that it still worked. Diablo had mentioned the cave he had found, so Slasher motioned to Diablo to show him the cave.

  The cave had a small entrance (just big enough for a man to fit through), and a quick peek with the lantern showed Slasher that it was not occupied. Slasher crawled into the cave, and after about twenty feet, it opened up into a large chamber. Further exploration led to other passageways and chambers. After exploring for about an hour, Slasher found an exit passageway near a stream. The exit was obscured almost entirely by undergrowth, and invisible to passersby. This will be perfect, he thought. We should be able to escape undetected this way, and if they try to follow us, I can blow the cave up after we escape.

  Slasher backtracked to where Diablo stood in the first chamber. He told Diablo about the exit, and his plans through a series of grunts and pantomime, and Diablo replied that he understood. Diablo looked as if he was not too thrilled about having to wander through the cave, and voiced his concerns about the life of the lanterns. “What if the lanterns go out?” he asked, “What then? Will we be trapped in this cave forever in the dark?”

  Slasher indicated to Diablo that there were two lanterns, and that they would only use one at a time. Slasher also figured that they could probably find their way out in the dark eventually.

  Slasher and Diablo returned to the shack to tell Doc what they had found. Doc liked the idea better than the shack idea, because he had been thinking that it seemed rather like the OK Corral. He had visions of them being surrounded by cops, and trying to hold them off with dynamite while standing in a shack full of explosives. Slasher grabbed as much dynamite as he could carry, giving Diablo the detonators, fuses and blasting caps. Diablo grumbled a bit, but Slasher tried to explain that he didn’t want the explosives with the detonators until he was ready to blow something up. When Slasher wasn’t looking, Diablo grabbed a couple of sticks of dynamite and stuck them in one of the pockets of his jumpsuit. Doc grabbed the other lantern and they headed to the cave. They could hear barking in the distance.

  Chapter 34

  Steve and Tom finished greeting the latest arrivals at the farmhouse, and seeing Fred off to the hospital to check on his wife. They had already greeted the County Sheriff, a dozen Deputies, another six Police Officers, a K-9 handler on loan from Indianapolis, and a helicopter pilot, as well as the Police Chief. The County SWAT Team was on the way, and would arrive shortly.

  When everyone was assembled in one central location, Tom and Steve gave a briefing to all participants. They explained how the three inmates had escaped, and how dangerous they were, then Steve added that all three appeared to have injuries of one type or another. When the SWAT team commander asked the extent of the injuries and how they were sustained, Tom explained the events that had led up to the current situation. Several of the SWAT team members began to snicker when they heard about Slasher having his jaw taped shut and wearing bunny ears, but when Tom described the bull ride, nearly everyone present guffawed with laughter. Every time this many law enforcement personnel gathered together, there was an overabundance of testosterone, and everyone seemed to try to one-up each other with comments and jokes. This time was no exception.

  When the laughter and comments had died down, John Turley,
the SWAT Team commander, pulled out a map of the area and described the terrain and hazards, as well as what he felt was the possible direction of travel and most likely hiding places for the fugitives. Julian Ortiz, the communications specialist for the Sheriff’s Office gave a short briefing on radio communications and instructed everyone to check in every half hour. He insured that everyone was using the same frequency, and that they addressed the communications hub on the radio as “CP” for purposes of this operation. Julian introduced himself and said that he would be manning the Control Post.

  Assignments were handed out, and the operation commenced a short time later. A tent was erected in the back yard of the farmhouse, and tables and chairs were brought in. A base radio was brought in and set up, and when it was operational, radio checks were conducted. The map was set up on a table, and after all units had checked in, their positions were circled on the map with a blue marker. Blue, of course, stood for the Police, and Red was reserved for the fugitives when they located them. In these types of operations, it didn’t matter what department you worked for, it was only blue against red.

  Steve and Tom joined the search, and pointed out to the K-9 handler the area in which the fugitives had entered the woods. Steve had handed the welding mask that Diablo had been wearing to the K-9 handler, so the dogs could get the scent. After a few seconds, the dogs seemed to pick up the trail that the fugitives had taken through the woods. The trail led to a small clearing where they found a large amount of blood and what appeared to be shotgun pellets on the ground. They also found some bloody duct tape on the ground as well, and surmised that someone had removed the pellets from the butt of the inmate who was shot by the farmer.

  The helicopter was circling overhead making wider and wider circles looking for signs of the fugitives. One of the deputies, Greg Roads, had volunteered to ride in the helicopter as a “spotter,” and he was looking out the side window of the helicopter with a pair of gyroscopic binoculars. The binoculars worked great, but when you first calibrated them, the world seemed to swim until the gyroscope stabilized. After that, the view was clear, and no matter how bumpy the flight was everything on the ground stayed in focus. Greg found that he could only hold the binoculars to his eyes for a few minutes at a time without feeling a little bit motion sick. Besides, the binoculars were heavy and Greg’s arms got tired quickly holding them up.