Merciless

by Bryan Smith

  Both men turned toward the sound of Lindsey’s voice.

  She came striding rapidly toward them with a big smile on her face and a hand inside a white plastic bag. Grant recognized the bag as something she’d dug out of the trash in the camper. It’d originally contained snacks purchased recently at a convenience store. Now something heavier weighed it down.

  Grant matched her expression with a strained grin of his own. He was a little on edge due to still having no idea what she was up to. “Hey, babe. We were just about to call a wrecker.”

  She was within six feet of them when she said, “Like I already said, that won’t be necessary.”

  Grant glanced at the Hispanic guy and saw right away he was already transfixed by Lindsey’s piercing blue eyes. Her ability to disarm nearly anyone of the male persuasion with one smiling look was like a superpower. It was the main reason so many never saw the hidden streak of cruelty beneath the pretty facade.

  “Unlike my husband, I know a thing or two about cars. Pretty sure I can get your motor running.”

  Grant barely managed not to snort at that last comment. The not-so-subtle innuendo behind her words was no accident, and was yet another practically infallible method of distraction. In those moments, the guy wasn’t thinking about his broken-down car or being late for work. He was thinking only of Lindsey and her luscious body.

  The man cleared his throat and blushed a little as he said, “Oh, hey, that would be awesome.”

  Lindsey glanced at her husband. “Step back, babe. You’re out of your depth here. Sorry, but you know it’s true.”

  Grant shrugged and moved several feet away without a word.

  The stranger frowned as his gaze focused on the plastic bag. “What do you have there?”

  Lindsey laughed. “Something fun. Check it out.”

  Grant felt a sharp pang of apprehension as her hand came out of the bag.

  Oh, shit.

  The stranger’s frown deepened as he stared at the thing in her hand. “What is that? That’s not real, is it?”

  Lindsey said nothing.

  She aimed the tranquilizer gun at the man’s chest and squeezed the trigger.

  4

  THE OTHER ITEMS IN THE white bag were two rolls of duct tape. The two rolls constituted a small percentage of their unusually large supply of the stuff, the rest of which was still stowed away in the camper. Once Lindsey had removed them, she allowed the empty bag to float away in the breeze. She tossed one roll to Grant before dropping to her knees to flip the unconscious man over onto his stomach. He was heavy, so Grant had to help her. Using the tape, she went to work securing the man’s hands together behind his back.

  At his wife’s direction, Grant simultaneously did the same with the man’s ankles. Though he was shocked by what she’d done, there was no taking it back, and arguing about it with her while they were still in clear view of anyone who might come driving by was clearly a waste of time. Getting this guy tied up and stowed away out of sight in the camper was priority number one for now. Any debate regarding her actions could wait until after that. So he went about his work without comment, focusing only on doing the job properly to ensure the stranger wouldn’t be able to kick free of his bonds. He was certain Lindsey was doing the same as she secured his wrists.

  As soon as they were finished, they grabbed hold of the stranger at either end and heaved him up off the ground. Grunting from the exertion, they carried him over to the camper as quickly as they could manage. The back door was standing open and Lindsey had put the steps down. Grant was grateful for that, at least. Wasting more precious time setting the man down and picking him up again while they got the camper open would’ve sucked.

  Grant sighed in relief as they made it into the camper before another vehicle could come along. He was breathing heavily when they dropped the still-unconscious stranger on the floor. “Why . . . the hell . . . did you do that?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . . I thought we discussed this. We agreed we wouldn’t try it until we got to the end of our trip.”

  She gave him an impatient look as she opened one of the camper’s many storage cabinets, from which she plucked out a pair of lace black panties. He knew it was the same pair she’d been wearing all day. Evidently she’d taken the time to remove them while inside the camper a few minutes ago. “We’ll talk about that as soon as we’re back on the road. Let me finish here.”

  The unconscious stranger was on his back now. Kneeling next to him, Lindsey forced his mouth open and pushed the panties in between his lips. She then tore off a strip of duct tape and smoothed it into place over his mouth.

  “Why the panties?”

  She shrugged as she stood up. “I just liked the idea of it. Gives the whole thing kind of a kinky edge. You definitely like it when I do it to you.”

  “The difference is you’re not gonna fuck this guy.”

  Lindsey didn’t respond to that as she stepped over the stranger’s unmoving form and moved toward the back of the camper. “Come on. We need to get moving.”

  Grant sighed in exasperation. Her impulsiveness bothered him, as it left them susceptible to all kinds of potential unforeseen complications. A thing like this required careful planning and execution. As speedily as they’d worked together, this was just sloppy.

  He followed her out of the camper and around to the side of the truck facing away from the road, where she’d already folded up the lawn chairs. She had one in each hand. He offered to take one for her as she again headed to the back of the camper, but she shook this off and told him to pick up his empty beer bottle. He was about to ask why when the obvious reason occurred to him. The bottle had his fingerprints on it. As he knelt to scoop up the bottle, he heard the rattle of the chairs being tossed into the camper. Next he heard Lindsey putting the retractable steps back and closing the door.

  He carried the empty bottle with him as he got back behind the wheel of the truck. Lindsey took it from him and tossed him the keys as she climbed in on the other side and closed the door. “Get our asses out of here.”

  Grant put the key in the ignition and started the engine, shifting gears even as he glanced at her. “You still owe me an explanation.”

  A worry line creased her forehead as she leaned forward and glanced out at the road. “And you’ll get one, honey, but I want to be away from this place first. So fucking hurry, okay?”

  Grant reluctantly acknowledged the wisdom of what she was saying. He was impatient to know why she’d done this now instead of waiting to do it in a more organized way in a more controlled environment. But she was right. At some point, the guy they’d taken would be reported missing. News reports might include a description of the man’s broken-down car. Allowing a witness to later recall seeing that car and their camper together in the same clearing would obviously be a very bad thing.

  He hit the accelerator and the old Ford surged to the edge of the road where he paused a moment to glance back and check for approaching cars. Still nothing in either direction, which seemed almost miraculous at this point. He eased the truck out onto the road and hit the gas again, speeding away from the clearing. Checking his mirrors several seconds later, he saw it had disappeared entirely from view.

  Letting out a relieved breath, he relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and settled back in his seat.

  He glanced again at his beautiful bride, who was visibly more relaxed now. She was smiling in a contented way as she stared at the passenger side mirror.

  “Okay, Lindsey. Spill your guts.”

  5

  TAKING ANOTHER HUMAN BEING’S LIFE had always been a key component of their long-planned trip across the country. It was an idea borne out of their shared fascination with serial killers and true crime in general, which was one of the big things they’d bonded over during the early stages of their romance. In the beginning, this had seemed benign enough. After all, it was a fascination shared by countless others, the vast maj
ority of whom would never dream of committing such crimes themselves.

  Until falling in love with Lindsey, Grant had always considered himself in that category of people who would only ever read about murders instead of actually committing them. True crime documentaries and books were more than sufficient to feed his morbid fascination. He had a good life and had no interest in blowing it up by doing something stupid and potentially winding up on death row.

  That changed three months into his relationship with Lindsey when, after a particularly frenzied bout of lovemaking, they discussed the latest multi-part murder documentary they’d just finished bingeing on Netflix. In the midst of this conversation, Lindsey confessed to harboring for years a fantasy to kidnap and kill someone. Grant didn’t take this seriously at first. It was a fantasy. People had all kinds of crazy fantasies. As long as they didn’t do the truly crazy things in real life, where was the harm in that? So he played along, telling her he harbored similar fantasies.

  In the ensuing months, they kept talking about it and the fantasies Lindsey described became more elaborate. It became clear to Grant she had given a great deal of serious thought to the real practicalities of how to kill a person and get away with it. Even then, he didn’t believe she had any genuine intent of doing it. They took up roleplaying in the bedroom, mostly kidnap scenarios featuring him as the victim. He spent a lot of time tied to their bed while she beat him and threatened to torture and kill him if he failed to satisfy her sexually. The kinky and sometimes violent roleplay didn’t bother him because he thought of it as a safe outlet for channeling and purging their darker desires.

  Six months into their relationship, the day after his proposal of marriage, she gave him what amounted to an ultimatum. She would only accept the proposal if he agreed to help make her murder fantasy a reality. Her body language and stern tone of voice finally convinced him of her seriousness. She really wanted to do this. Commit a murder. Kill an innocent human being for no reason other than pleasure. Upon realizing this, Grant felt a reflexive sense of horror, but this faded quickly. He realized he wasn’t as bothered by the idea as most people would be. And above all else, he did not want to lose the woman he considered the love of his life.

  So here they were.

  Agreeing to help her actualize her fantasy was his wedding gift to her. Lindsey called it their “gift to each other”, but whatever.

  Several more quiet moments went by as they continued at a rapid rate down the winding road.

  Unable to take her silence any longer, Grant rolled his eyes in exasperation and shouted, “Lindsey!”

  His louder tone finally snapped her out of her reverie. She was still smiling as she sat up straighter and looked at him. “What, baby?”

  He sighed. “You said you would explain.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. Got caught up in thinking about things.”

  By Grant’s estimation, they were now about ten miles away from the private access road that would lead up to the old family cabin. Things seemed more or less under control now, but he’d feel a lot better about the whole situation once they were on private land. The odds of a nosy cop stopping them and asking to take a peek inside the camper were already low. He was riding the speed limit and there was no probable cause for a search anyway. The truck was old, but everything about it was in proper working condition, with no malfunctioning tail lights or anything else of the sort warranting a pullover. There was no reason to think they’d be anything other than fine as long as he kept his wits about him this last little stretch of the way.

  His eyes went back to the road as he said, “Care to share what you’re thinking? Because I’m really confused about pretty much everything right now.”

  Lindsey lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “Okay, look, I know it’s not the way we talked about doing it. I’m sorry I didn’t discuss it with you beforehand, but it was an impulse and there was no time for that.”

  Grant shook his head and sighed heavily again, not bothering to hide his dismay. “Come on, Lindsey, we talked about this. We’d only do this in a carefully planned way because—”

  She nodded, scowling. “Yes, yes, yes, I fucking know, okay? Acting on impulse with something like this is bad and dangerous. You’re absolutely right about that. We did agree on it, and I’m sorry I broke the rules. But, baby, I just couldn’t help it.” She paused briefly to heave a breath and collect her thoughts. “Okay, listen . . . and I know this will sound flaky as hell, but whatever. When that guy showed up in his pathetic junker, with nobody else around, I took it as a sign. A moment of serendipity. Like he was meant to come along at that exact time and we were meant to take him. It was like he was a gift from the universe or something.”

  Grant nodded slowly.

  He said nothing for several silent moments. Her argument boiled down to excuse-making disguised as something deep and meaningful. She wanted what she wanted when she wanted it. Simple as that. All he could do now was move forward and hope to keep her from doing anything as risky as that again.

  6

  BACK THERE AT THE ROADSIDE clearing, a couple of elements came together in Lindsey’s mind at almost precisely the same moment. First and foremost, the commitment they’d already made to taking a human life together. Nothing would have happened without that agreement already solidly entrenched in her psyche. Their proximity to a private place where they would be free to do whatever they wanted with their captive was, however, the deciding factor.

  This is what she told Grant.

  She described it as a perfect storm situation, a set of circumstances so ideal for indulging in her darkest fantasies she couldn’t help but take action. The nearest neighbors were miles distant. There would be no one around to hear the man’s screams or pleas for mercy.

  She laughed. “Seriously, what’s the big deal? We’re already planning to murder at least one person. For no reason other than the sheer enjoyment of it. Once you’ve gotten to that place in your head, why put it off needlessly? There’s literally no good reason we had to wait until the end of the trip. And the sooner we go ahead and do it, the freer we’ll be. I’m talking about real freedom, Grant, freedom in its purest fucking form. We should seize the moment and revel in that. Hell, we’re already doing it. This is exciting, baby. A dream come fucking true. Please try to enjoy it with me.”

  What she was saying made some level of sense, at least from a certain deranged perspective. Despite arriving at this conclusion, Grant nonetheless experienced a high level of apprehension as they arrived at the gated private access drive and came to a stop. His mind was buzzing as he got out of the truck and approached the gate, which was the bar type mounted to a pole. He dropped his keys several feet shy of arriving at the gate and had to stop and kneel to pick them up.

  When he glanced back at the truck, Lindsey was staring at him in a way that was neither impatient nor serene. On the surface, it was an emotionless blank. She was observing him in the dispassionate manner of a scientist studying a microbe on a slide. It gave him a small case of the creeps. Probably this was just him allowing stress and paranoia to get the better of him.

  He gave her a little wave and continued to the gate.

  His burgeoning paranoia was a result of certain subtle implications he’d picked up on in her little speech . . .

  . . . at least one person . . .

  It was hard not to interpret that as leaving the door open for more murders in the future. Yes, a promise had been made. Their honeymoon murder would be the only one they’d ever commit, a final way of bonding at the deepest, most intimate level. Something they could always look back on with secret fondness as they grew old together, that shared knowledge of how far they were willing to go for each other. In a way, it would be a more solemn and sacred thing than the vows they’d exchanged at their wedding.

  At this point, however, it didn’t feel far-fetched to believe she might come away from this experience with a genuine taste for murder. She might, in fact, decide she enjoye
d it so much she wanted to do it again and again.

  The bar gate was secured by a padlock and a heavy length of rust-flecked chain. Grant found the duplicate key he’d been given by an elderly relative a day before setting out on their trip. He slid it into the padlock and unlocked it. After pulling the old length of chain clear of the slat holding it in place, he pulled the bar open wide enough to allow access. He then got back in the truck and drove it through the opening onto the private drive. With that accomplished, he got out again briefly to close and lock the gate.

  The drive was a rutted dirt road that rose sharply on a narrow and winding mountain ridge. There were steep drop-offs to either side, which became more potentially hazardous the higher up they went. The truck’s old suspension bounced and loudly creaked in a way that steadily became more unsettling. There were no guardrails along the sides of the road, a fact of which Grant was intensely aware as he steered them up the road toward the cabin, which he still couldn’t see. Right then, all he cared about was avoiding a calamitous plunge down into the tree-covered valley below.

  When they finally arrived on level ground and the cabin came into view, Grant let out a relieved breath along with a whispered thank you to whatever deity or power was responsible for seeing them safely to their destination. Here was where the mountain ridge ended, on a much wider piece of land. The cabin was at the back of a large clearing ringed by tall trees. Fading sunlight glinted off rooftop solar panels. Out back was a large generator for backup power and a massive water tank. All the cozy comforts of home in the middle of nowhere. Grant loved this place. After he parked the truck parallel to the long porch, he shut the engine off and they got out of the truck.

  With full darkness encroaching, there was close to zero chance of anyone observing them as they transferred the man they’d abducted from the camper to the cabin. Even in broad daylight, the cabin’s isolation would’ve made this virtually impossible.