by KJ Kalis
He swallowed a drink of water from a bottle he had inside the van. It should be just a few minutes now. Isabella and Anna D’Angelo should be coming down the street at any moment. He had found them quite by accident, a local reporter putting an article on the front page about the twins who had won first place in their eighth-grade robotics contest. Identical twins made for great medical experiments, he knew. Their matching DNA provided a control that was impossible to get with any other experiment structure.
He glanced in his rearview mirror and then his side mirror. They had just rounded the corner, the two of them chatting and smiling. Eighth-grade girls could be difficult to get near, but he had a plan. He got out of the van, opening the back doors and fumbling with something in the back. He had set up a small mirror so he could track their progress without them knowing. When they were about ten feet away, he turned and walked towards them. They both stopped dead in their tracks, eyeing him, “Hey! I live around the corner, and I found this dog. He seems to be lost. Do you know anyone who’s missing a dog?”
The twins looked at each other. Which one was Isabella, and which one was Anna, he didn’t know. “I don’t know,” one of the twins offered, backing away slightly.
Joseph knew he had to move quickly and convincingly. “That’s okay,” he said. “Could you just look in case you hear of someone who’s missing their dog? I can give you my phone number. I’m just gonna drop him off at the local shelter, I guess? I don’t know what else to do with him…”
Time seemed to stop, Joseph waiting to see what the girls would do. One of them took a step forward, then the other. “We can take a look,” one of them said, “But then we have to get to school,” she warned.
“That’s fine,” Joseph said. “I don’t want to delay you from school. School’s important.”
The girls walked next to each other to the back of the van, Joseph following. He pulled the stun gun out of his pocket. Before either of them could ask where the dog was, he tasered the girl on the right and swung around, shocking the second girl before she had time to react or run. He quickly scooped them up, shoving them in the back of the van, walking around the side and getting in the driver’s side door. He pulled away, his heart beating in his chest.
Joseph drove about two miles and then pulled into a parking lot, driving behind a bunch of stores that were still closed. He got out and opened the van doors, pulling a syringe from inside of the van. He had already loaded it with the same drug he used to keep Rebecca Blake asleep, Versed. He injected both of the girls with a dose and then a second injection that would prime their lungs for his experiment. Dexamethasone had been used successfully in babies. He was going to test to see how it would be used in preteens. He grabbed a set of cable ties and secured their hands and wrists, just in case.
By the time he got back into the van, he’d broken a sweat. But it was a good feeling, knowing that he was about to start his next experiment. He hummed to himself on the way back to the shop, not even stopping at the house. There was nothing there for him. He was focused on getting things started.
As he pulled up to the garage door, he hopped out and hit the keypad for the door to raise, stepping gingerly on his injured ankle. He opened the back doors on the van, looking at the girls. They were both sound asleep. “Yes, it’s a good time to take a rest,” he said.
Their bodies were much lighter than those of Layne and Evan, so it didn’t hurt his ankle quite so much to carry them into the garage. He set each one of them inside of the three-sided Plexiglass box he had created, adding a bottle of water, a bucket, and a roll of toilet paper. While they were still asleep, he lifted the final plank of Plexiglass and sealed the box with epoxy. Based on his calculations, the box should be big enough to carry the load. Across the top of each box, he slid another sheet of Plexiglas, sealing it. He stepped back. The girls were now encased in Plexiglass cubes. Oh, how surprised they would be when they woke up, he thought. He smiled. This would be one of his finest experiments. He double-checked the seals on the sides he had already closed, adding a little bit more epoxy to any spots that didn’t look completely and generously covered. Now, he needed to wait for the epoxy to dry and for the girls to wake up.
Joseph contemplated going back up to the house, but there was no need. He wasn’t hungry, no matter what time the clock said, feeling a sense of exhilaration at breaking his schedule. His laptop had been charging on the corner of his workbench. Opening it up, he gave the machine a second to boot. He quickly penned an email to all of his classes letting them know that he had a stomach virus and that he would be out of the office for the next two days. He sent a separate email to Meredith, telling her the same thing. He had sick time to burn. Might as well use it now, he thought.
He scanned his emails, knowing he had a little time before he could start the experiment. There was one from Meredith he hadn’t noticed before he canceled his classes. “Dr. Schreiber, I hope this email finds you well. Unfortunately, based on a recent interaction we had with local law enforcement, we are putting you under administrative suspension effective immediately. Please know that your students will be well taken care of. Dr. Baxter will continue your teaching for the next few weeks. Many apologies for this abrupt communication. Once the internal investigation is over, we will advise you of your status with Grand Ridge College. Most sincerely…”
Joseph didn’t bother reading the rest of the email. His stomach sank, shrinking into a tiny pebble inside his body. He felt the same way he did when he was chastised by his parents. He couldn’t do anything right. He picked up the laptop and slammed it against the wall, the screen shattering, the computer landing upside down on the ground. He grabbed a crowbar from the corner and swung it over his head, hitting the laptop over and over and over again, the same way he had hit his father.
Fury gripped him. Who was that sniveling Meredith to tell him to stop working? “You have no right!” he shouted, his voice booming off the ceiling in the garage. The girls began to stir. They had given him no choice. His work had to go on no matter what. All of this, he thought, looking around, was their responsibility.
Joseph dropped the crowbar. It clattered on the ground. It was time…
41
Kat and Van leaned on the hood of his truck, waiting to figure out what to do next. They had been at the house for almost two hours, watching forensics people move in and out. “Something about this just doesn’t make sense,” Kat said. “This guy, he’s so controlled. There is no evidence in the house he did anything to anyone in there except for his parents.” She looked around. Even though the days were pushing them towards fall in California, the woods were still full and lush with leaves and undergrowth. The landscaping around the house was neatly manicured, the shrubs and bushes trimmed to perfect globes, much as was the style during the 1960’s. It seemed as if nothing had moved forward, as if the house and everything in it were stuck in a certain spot of time. Kat shook her head. “Are we sure there are no other structures on the property?” Kat said.
Dawson looked up from his phone, “Not that I know of. Usually, the commander takes a look at overhead pictures to see what the structures look like before they get here.”
Kat frowned. “This guy likes to keep everything close to home. Something about this doesn’t make sense.” Just as the words came out of her mouth, her phone pinged. It was TJ. Her heart skipped a beat. She hoped everything was okay. Opening her text, she saw a message from him. “Show this to Van. The house is not the only structure on the property. Watch your six. Garage hidden north-northwest by half a click.”
Kat handed her phone to Van, who nodded.
“There’s another garage on the property,” Van said, his head twisting each direction. Kat could tell he was getting his bearings. “There,” he pointed, “It’s that direction, about half a click.”
“What? How do you know that?” Dawson frowned.
Van shook his head. “Listen, when we headed out, we sent the address of where we are going to a for
mer Navy SEAL who's staying with our son. If he says the garage is there, it’s there. Believe me.”
Kat shook her head. Just like TJ to come to the rescue when she needed him. A sense of relief and dread covered her like a wave. Her phone chirped again. TJ wrote, “Tell the OIC the access road is five hundred feet past the main driveway to the house. Garage is hidden by a hill.”
Kat knew that the OIC, or officer in charge, would be Bentley. She could hear talking in the background as she read the text. It sounded like Dawson was already on the phone with him. She mouthed the words, “Is that Bentley?” to Dawson, who nodded. “Tell him the access road is five hundred feet past the main driveway. The garage is down on a hillside, about a quarter-mile away.” Dawson nodded.
Dawson pressed a button on his cell phone, ending the call. “They are on their way. Should be back here in fifteen minutes. Let’s saddle up and meet them back out on the street. Bentley said the search warrant covers all structures on the property, so we’re good.”
As Van got in the truck, she saw Dawson walk over to the officer standing at the doorway, giving him an update. The officer immediately put his hand on the butt of his gun and moved towards his cruiser. He was at high alert. They all were.
It didn’t take long for Bentley and his team to arrive. “Where did you get this information from?” he asked, looking directly at Kat.
“A buddy of ours is staying with our son. He’s a former Navy SEAL. Has a lot of connections. If he says the garage is there, it’s there.” Kat held her breath. Would Bentley help them or fight them? She didn’t know, but what she did know was that there had never been a case when TJ had been wrong. Kat held her breath.
“If he’s a SEAL, that’s good enough for me,” Bentley said. He looked at his team, “Gear up. I have no idea what we're going to be looking at, so bring it all.”
42
Joseph was out of breath. The fury that had engulfed him had abated enough for him to clear his head. He walked over to the workbench and pulled a paper towel off of a clean roll that was in the corner. He wiped the sweat off his brow and the back of his neck and took a moment to wipe off his glasses. If he was going to do this experiment, he might as well get to it.
As he put his glasses back on, he looked at the girls. They were both standing up, their eyes wide, their palms pressed against the Plexiglass, pounding on it, “Let us out!” they screamed. Joseph felt so satisfied at the look of them, the two perfect twins in the two perfectly matching Plexiglass boxes. “Oh no, not quite yet. You see, you both are going to take part in an important experiment for medical history.” Normally, Joseph would have grabbed his notebook and made extensive comments in it about how the girls had been grabbed, their general condition, the time and date. He didn’t feel like that now. He just wanted to do the experiment.
He walked over to the hoses that had been positioned behind the plastic boxes. He inserted the end of each hose into the top of each box where he had drilled a small hole the correct size to accept the flow of water. By his calculations, it shouldn’t take more than seven minutes for the boxes to fill. The water pressure on his parents’ property was exceptional, and he had even added a supplemental pump to make sure he could get all the water he needed. It had worked so well, in fact, that his original calculation of twelve minutes for it to fill was wrong. He used duct tape to secure the ends of the hose just inside the boxes. He walked over to the wall, a glimmer of hope and excitement in his chest. This experiment could be his finest, he thought, as he turned the spigot on full blast.
The girls screamed. They were instantly drenched, the flow of cold water pouring down from the top of the box. They pounded even harder on the side closest to him, the water rising to their ankles and then to the middle part of their calf. “Let us out!” they screamed, “We are sorry! We’ll do anything you want us to do!” they cried, the water rising to the middle of their thighs. Joseph turned away for a moment, getting his chair. He sat down, resting his ankle, which was pounding with pain. The Ibuprofen must have worn off, he thought. “Now, girls,” he said, “Pretty soon you will be underwater. But you don’t need to worry. I’ve given you a drug that should help you to breathe underwater. You’ll be just like a fish!” Joseph tried to make the experience sound fun, though he wasn’t sure it would be.
43
As Kat and Van followed in the line of vehicles down the access road that TJ had found, she looked down in her lap. Her hands were shaking. If Joseph Schreiber was indeed in the garage that TJ had said was there, they would be facing down a madman in less than two minutes. The bile crept up in the back of her throat. She swallowed, hard. Van glanced at her as the truck hit a pothole, jostling both of them, “You okay? You can stay in the truck,” he said, straightening the pickup out on the road.
A few seconds passed before Kat answered. “I’m okay. I can do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he said.
A minute later, the side of the abandoned garage came into view. The van they had seen on the video cameras was parked in front, the lights glowing just a little bit inside the garage with the break of day. Bentley's team leaped out of their vehicles. Kat and Van did the same. From behind them, Kat heard Dawson yell, “Kat! Van! Wait for the team!” It was no use. If Joseph Schreiber was in the garage, they were going in, for better or worse.
The SWAT team breached the side door of the garage, Kat right on the heels of the last man in the line. Two officers charged Joseph and tackled him, flipping him over while he kicked with his legs and scratched at them with his hands, as they yelled, “Hands up!” Two more officers joined them, securing him and flipping him over. Within seconds, the takedown was over.
Kat ran past the officers who had piled on top of Joseph and came to a stop, facing two enormous Plexiglas boxes overflowing with water, two bodies of what looked to be young girls floating in them. Her heart jumped in her throat, “Van!” she screamed, “Van!”
She saw Van glance around the room, his eyes stopping on something in the corner. A crowbar. He ran over and picked it up, running towards the first box. She saw him swing, the crowbar bouncing off of the plastic. Kat ran to the other box and pushed as hard as she could, hoping to topple it. As she ran around the back and turned off the water, another officer swung his billy club at the side, with no effect. So much water ran out that it covered the floor and was running towards the garage door where Joseph Schreiber was in custody. The legs of his pans were wet. “No,” she could hear him moan, “No, you will ruin my experiment!”
Kat heard the clunk of the crowbar against the plastic again and again. Van was swinging with all he had but was unable to crack it. She saw him stop, stare at the boxes. What was he doing? she thought. The girls were drowning. “Van! Do something!”
Her heart pounding in her chest, she watched. Van set his jaw and then used the end of the crowbar like a harpoon, aiming for the corner. He rammed the joint with all his body weight. The edge popped open, a flood of water erupting over the floor, the first child’s body dropping to the ground. “Over here!” she screamed. Van did the same with the second box, Kat’s clothes getting soaked at the rush of water.
Kat ran over to the second girl, rolled her on her back, and felt for a pulse. “She’s got a pulse!” Kat said, starting chest compressions. She looked over at Van, who was doing the same for the first girl. As the first girl started to cough, and then the second, the room came into focus. Dawson was yelling for paramedics, officers were coming to help them, the girls were trying to sit up, one of their wet bodies laid across Kat’s lap. “It’s going to be okay,” Kat said, stroking the girl’s dark hair, “It’s going to be okay.”
Epilogue
The cleanup at the garage took the rest of the afternoon. The girls were life-flighted from a field nearby to Mercy Children’s Hospital. A squad car had gone to their parents’ home to take them down to meet the girls. Based on the reports from the paramedics, they hoped that the twins would make it and were cautiously optimist
ic for a full recovery. “Hey,” Kat said to one of the paramedics, shrugging the blanket she had been given a little higher up on her shoulders. She hadn’t been able to get warm for the last several hours. She knew it was shock. “Any news on Evan Chapman? Weren’t you one of the paramedics that came to take him to the hospital?”
The woman nodded and looked at Kat. Kat knew she was doing more than offering her a friendly glance. She was assessing her condition. “Yes, I was. He didn’t make it, I’m sorry.”
Kat looked at the ground. Six people lost, two people saved, she told herself.
Van walked over to her, wearing a new SWAT team baseball hat. He held another one in his hand. “Bentley said we can be official members of the team,” he smiled. He put his arm around her. “You ready to go home?”
She nodded.
When she walked in the door at home, still wet from the explosion of water and cold from the shock, Jack, TJ and the dogs were there to greet them. TJ had gone to a local burger place with Jack and brought home sandwiches and fries and cupcakes. They would have a celebration, but not until after Kat took a shower.
Finally, in a set of dry clothes, Kat felt as much as herself as she could after helping to catch a serial killer. When she got down to the kitchen, the dogs licked her hands. She checked her phone. There was a text from Dawson. “Schreiber confessed. He’s going away for a long time. Judge already told us no bail.”
A month later, Kat published an article about what had happened. Dawson had been giving her regular updates. They had found nearly a thousand rejection letters from medical journals strewn throughout the house. Schreiber had been fired from his job at the college and had been incarcerated in the psychiatric unit of a local prison. He had pled guilty, not wanting any trial, telling Kat during the single interview she had with him that he didn’t want any notoriety for his experiments. “It’s always been about the science, don’t you see?” he said, a small smile creeping over his face. “It’s all about the science.”
