Devil's Nightmare: Premonitions (Devil's Nightmare, Book 2)

by Robert Pruneda

  “So, you know—”

  “No, not for certain, but this has markings of the occult.” Aaron pointed at three inverted crosses carved into the decapitated head, one on each cheek, and one on the forehead. “That’s unfamiliar to me, but the missing eyes is significant.”

  “Looks like a mockery of the Holy Trinity.”

  Aaron nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “What if this is connected to the same cult? You know, from Austin?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “That was… Well, it was different. We’ll know more once we can get a closer look. Let’s get him out of here.”

  “We’re not just going to dump him out are we?”

  “No, of course not.” Aaron put on a pair of latex gloves. “See if we can get some plastic sheets from the coroner. We’re going to have to pull this kid out of here one piece at a time.”

  †

  Aaron watched the coroner load body bags into the back of his van, and took a deep breath before slowly letting it out through his nose. He held a camouflage nylon wallet in his latex-gloved hand, flipped it open, and read the name on the Lee Hauser Middle School library card: Randall Flynn Cunningham, 8th Grade. Aside from the library card, the wallet only had eight dollars in cash—all Washington notes—and two photos. One of the photos showed the boy with his arm around a German shepherd. In the other photo, he wore a baseball uniform and held a regional championship trophy.

  “What kind of sick person would butcher up a kid like that?” Henderson said, while he loaded Randy’s bicycle into the trunk of the car.

  “The pure evil kind.” Aaron closed the wallet and placed it in an evidence bag. “That’s the only kind I can think of.”

  The coroner had determined the preliminary cause of death to be from a large blade to the heart. The perpetrator had cut the boy’s stomach open, exposing his intestines. The killer had decapitated Randy at the base of his neck and severed his limbs just below his shoulders and pelvis. His slayer had also removed his eyes and cut inverted crosses into his forehead and on each of his cheeks. He also had another carving in his chest. A single word above an inverted pentagram…

  REEDEMED

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Absence

  “Sandra Brown.”

  “Here.”

  “David Campos.”

  “Present.”

  “Randall Cunningham.” Mr. Reynaldo had the tip of his ballpoint pen poised over the class attendance form. When Randy didn’t respond, he raised his eyes, peering over the top of his spectacles. “Randall Cunningham,” he called out again.

  “He’s not here,” a red-headed girl stated from the back of the classroom, seated behind an empty desk.

  Kevin Thomas shot a preoccupied glance towards the empty desk. It wasn’t like Randy to miss school. He hadn’t missed a day all year.

  Mr. Reynaldo mumbled something to himself and continued the roll call. When he got to Kevin’s name, he had to call it out twice before he responded. “Be sure to respond immediately when I call your name next time,” Mr. Reynaldo said.

  “Sorry, Mr. Renaldo.”

  “Do you know why Randy is out today?”

  “Um…” Kevin’s heart pounded in his chest. His voice was constricted when he answered. “No, I don’t. Why?”

  Mr. Reynaldo curled his mouth downward with a slight shrug and tilt of his head. “I just thought you might know, since the two of you are friends.”

  “Maybe he’s sick,” Kevin suggested.

  Mr. Reynaldo’s forehead creased. “Hmm. Maybe.” At that brief statement, the teacher finished the roll call and began his history lesson about Thomas Jefferson and the Declaration of Independence.

  Kevin’s mind wandered. He thought about Pete dumping Randy in the lake and leaving him out there all alone. What was the big deal anyway? He just didn’t want to get high with them, that’s all. But Pete never liked taking no for an answer. Did Randy deserve getting tossed in the lake for that? Probably not, but he was acting like an ass, defending Cody. Why would he stick up for that freak? Hell, maybe Pete had done the right thing after all. Kevin failed at suppressing a grin at the thought of Randy getting stuck in the mud and whimpering like a five-year-old.

  The classroom door opened. One of the administrative staff approached the history teacher and set a piece of paper on his desk. Mr. Reynaldo read the note while the staff member left the room. He glanced at Kevin and pulled open a drawer. After filling out a hall pass, he called Kevin to his desk and handed it to him.

  Fear crossed Kevin’s face when he read the pass. “This is to the Principal’s office. What did I do?”

  Mr. Reynaldo raised his eyebrows. “You tell me.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.” Mr. Reynaldo nodded towards the door. “Go straight to Principal Newman’s office. No detours. Understood?”

  “Yeah, but what about the homework assignment?”

  “It’ll be in your student email.” He gave him a gentle push towards the door. “Now quit stalling and go.”

  †

  Sergeant Henderson stood next to Principal Newman’s desk while they waited for an administrative staff member to escort Kevin to the office. It took less than twenty minutes from the time the principal sent a staff member out to deliver the message before there was a knock on the office door.

  “Come in,” Principal Newman called out.

  The door opened slowly. Kevin poked his head around it and froze at the sight of Sergeant Henderson. The color drained out of his face. Henderson had questioned him and Peter once before about the chewed up body they’d found floating in the lake at Maple Hills Park.

  “Come inside, Kevin,” Principal Newman said. “This is Sergeant Scott Henderson with the Sheriff’s Department. He’s here to ask you a few questions.”

  “About what?” Kevin stepped inside the office and shut the door behind him. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Principal Newman motioned towards a chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat, Kevin.”

  He sat with his U.S. History textbook flat on his lap, both hands held tight on the cover. “Shouldn’t my parents be here with me?”

  “You’re not in any trouble,” she said, while returning to her chair behind the desk. “Mr. Henderson has some questions about Randy.”

  “Ruh… Randy?”

  “Randall Cunningham,” Sergeant Henderson said. “Do you know him?”

  Kevin gazed past Henderson for moment. Henderson waved his hand in front of him. “Hey, you still with me, son?”

  Kevin twitched. “Huh? Um… yeah, he’s a friend of mine.” He faced Principal Newman. “Did something happen to Randy?”

  She glanced at Henderson and sighed. “Yes, Kevin. Something did happen.”

  Kevin reverted his attention back to Sergeant Henderson. “What? Is he okay?”

  “I’m afraid not, son,” Henderson said.

  Kevin darted his eyes between Henderson and Principal Newman.

  “Is he—?”

  “The reason I asked to see you is because Randy’s parents mentioned that you knew him very well. That you were best friends.”

  Kevin cocked his head a little. “What? They said that?”

  “You’re not friends then?”

  “No, we’re friends. I just… I don’t know…” Kevin bit his lower lip. He shifted his weight in the chair and dropped his textbook on the floor. His body jumped at the sound. When he retrieved the book, he held it with both hands while staring at the floor. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” His voice was cracked.

  Henderson took a brief moment before he answered. “Yes, I’m afraid he is. I’m sorry, Kevin.”

  Kevin’s face turned red and his eyes welled up with tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Kevin,” Principal Newman said and stepped around her desk. “Come here.”

  Kevin rose, setting his history book on the chair, and emb
raced Principal Newman. He buried his face against her shoulder. Henderson watched as the principal consoled her grieving student. He shook his head and thought about how much he hated this part of his job. He wanted to leave the office and let Kevin mourn in peace, but he still had a job to do, questions that needed answering.

  He waited for Kevin to stop crying before asking, “I know this is hard, but is it okay if I ask you a few more questions? It’ll help me out.”

  Kevin rubbed both hands over his face and nodded. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were wet from the tears. Henderson moved Kevin’s textbook from the chair to the desk.

  Kevin sat in his chair, and in a low and shaken voice, he asked how his friend had died.

  “He… um…” Henderson struggled to come up with the appropriate words to explain a gruesome death to a thirteen-year-old boy. “A county employee found Randy’s body at Maple Hills Park.”

  “It was an alligator, wasn’t it?” Kevin covered his eyes with his hand, and sniveled. “Just like Mr. Travers.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “It wasn’t?” His faced showed a sense of relief, but then his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Someone killed him? Is that it?”

  Henderson knelt in front of Kevin. “Look, I know this is hard for you, but I need you to tell me something.”

  “Why don’t you just answer me?” Kevin said through his tears. “Tell me.”

  Henderson shifted his eyes towards Principal Newman, who simply shrugged. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and looked directly into Kevin’s eyes. “We don’t know what happened, which is why I need you to tell me if you were with him last night at the park.”

  Kevin frowned. “What do mean? I didn’t do anything to him.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying, Kevin. I just need to know if you were there so we can put together a timeline. It’ll help us figure out what did happen to Randy. Can you do that for me?”

  Kevin broke eye contact with Henderson and leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling. He pressed both hands against his forehead, then sat up straight again. He exhaled a heavy sigh.

  “I’ll take that as you were there. Is that a correct assumption?”

  Kevin nodded.

  “Anybody else with you last night?”

  Kevin glanced at his principal and answered, “Pete was there.”

  “Peter Slavic?” Principal Newman said and rolled her eyes. Kevin confirmed with a slight nod. “Why do you continue to associate yourself with him? We’ve discussed this, Kevin.”

  “I know he’s a total jerk, but he’s still my friend.”

  “What were you boys doing at the park last night?” Henderson asked. “Fishing?”

  “No, we were just… um… hanging out.”

  “Just hanging out?” Henderson’s voice reflected disbelief.

  “Yeah. Just chilling. You know, taking in the breeze.”

  “Uh-huh. And did you see anybody else there while you were taking in that breeze?”

  Kevin shook his head. “No, the park was closed. We made sure of it. We didn’t want nobody around because… um…”

  “Because what?” Sergeant Henderson raised his eyebrows. “Maybe because you were smoking pot?”

  “Huh? No, of course not.”

  “You sure about that?” Henderson stared into the boy’s fearful eyes for a moment. “I promise you won’t be in any trouble. I need you to be honest with me. Did the three of you share a joint last night at Maple Hills Park?”

  “Tell him the truth, Kevin,” Principal Newman urged. “I suspended you once before for smoking marijuana at school.” She turned her attention to Henderson. “A teacher caught him behind the school last year and—”

  “All right, we were smoking a joint,” Kevin confessed. “Happy now? But Randy didn’t smoke any. He never has. Pete tried to make him, but he still wouldn’t do it. That’s when Pete picked him up and tossed him in the lake. We teased him about getting eaten by alligators.” Kevin rested his forehead in the palms of his hands and cried. “We just left him there, even after he told us his foot was stuck in the mud. He’d be alive today if I would have just gone back to help him.”

  “It’s not your fault, Kevin,” Principal Newman said. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

  “Yes, there is!” Kevin cried out. “He’s dead because of us. Because of me! I left him there. Someone killed Randy and if I had just gone back to help him—”

  Henderson put his hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “You can’t change any of that, son. But what you can do is help us find the person that hurt your friend. You can start by telling me who gave you that marijuana.”

  “You think that person might have done it?” Kevin said, while glaring at Henderson’s hand.

  Henderson removed his hand and got up from his chair. “Just following some leads. So, do you have a name for me?”

  “It was Pete’s joint,” Kevin said, addressing the principal. “I don’t know where he got it. I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me.” He then looked at Henderson. “And I doubt he’ll tell you anything, either.”

  Henderson formed a confident smile. “We’ll see about that.”

  †

  “What up, faggot?” Peter rested his hand against the wall of lockers and towered over Cody. “I hear you tried to take a dirt nap and make maggot food of yourself. What’s up with that shit?”

  Cody shoved his mathematics textbook into his locker and slammed the metal door shut.

  Peter laughed. “Uh-oh. Did I strike a nerve, faggot?”

  “Stop calling me that,” Cody said, as he closed the padlock to secure his locker. “Just leave me alone, Pete.”

  “Or, what?” Peter blocked Cody’s path. “You gonna tell your mommy on me? Oh, wait…” He laughed. “You can’t, because she’s dead.”

  Cody tightened his jaw and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through his nose. He tried to walk around Peter, but the tall, overweight teen continued to block his path and pushed him against the lockers.

  “Cut it out! I’m not playing with you, Pete.”

  “Whatcha gonna do, faggot? Punch me with them girly hands of yours?”

  Several students walked by and ignored the confrontation. One boy, who was about as tall as Peter, stopped, but then reconsidered after receiving a warning glare.

  “What do you want from me?” Cody said with his back against the lockers.

  “Nothing. I just like giving you shit… and making you wear it sometimes.” Peter chuckled and spotted Kevin heading down the hall towards them. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Principal Newman’s office,” Kevin said. “She wants to see you after school, too, Pete.”

  “The fuck for?” Peter pressed his arm across Cody’s chest. “What the hell did you tell her?”

  “He didn’t say anything,” Kevin said. “It’s not about him… It’s about Randy.”

  With his arm still pressed against Cody’s chest, Peter turned his head to face Kevin. “What about Randy?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Is. 13:16

  Aaron removed the pages of a report from the laser printer in his office and stood by his desk. He reviewed the list of evidence found at the recent crime scene at Maple Hills Park. His team had lifted fifteen unique sets of fingerprints from the trash barrel near the boat ramp, but not a single hair or fiber on Randy’s body parts to link to the killer.

  Sergeant Henderson entered the office with a brown paper bag in his hand. He set it on Aaron’s desk and opened it. “Is that the report for the Cunningham kid?”

  “Yeah. This one is going to require some overtime, that’s for sure.” Aaron sat in his chair and placed the documents in a folder. Scott handed him a burger from the bag and sat in a chair on the other side of the desk. Aaron cleared some space for Henderson to eat his meal. “So, were you able to talk to any of Randall Cunningham’s friends?”

  “Yeah, an eighth grader named Kevin Thomas.”
<
br />   “Kevin Thomas? Isn’t that one of the kids that found Doug Travers?”

  “That’s the one.” Scott removed the wrapper from the burger and used it as a makeshift plate. He dumped his fries next to the burger. “He admitted to smoking marijuana, but he couldn’t tell me where they got the joint from.”

  “Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

  Henderson filled him in on the details of the conversation. When he mentioned Peter’s name, Aaron asked if he had spoken with him. “No, not yet. I’m going to meet with him after school lets out.”

  Aaron checked the time on his watch. “I’ll take care of it. Peter and I have some catching up to do.”

  †

  Aaron noted Peter’s lack of emotion when they discussed Randy’s death. He showed no remorse and only presented a sense of disbelief, but not a morsel of grief. Aaron then asked him about the marijuana, which he of course denied having smoked any. “Then you wouldn’t have a problem giving us a urine sample.” He nodded towards a clear plastic cup at the edge Principle Newman’s desk.

  “I don’t do no drugs. And you can’t test me without my parents’ permission. I know my rights.”

  Aaron smirked. “Of course you do.”

  “You’re on the football team,” Principal Newman stated. “As a condition to playing school sports, your mother and father have already given written consent to random drug screenings.”

  “So, kick me off the team. I don’t care, but ain’t taking no piss test.”

  Aaron leaned back against the principal’s desk with both hands gripping the edge. “Peter, trust me when I tell you that it’s in your best interest that you cooperate. If you were smoking pot last night, we’ll find out one way or the other. What I want to know is how you got it.”

  Peter snorted. “That’s what this is about? You’re trying to bust some lame-ass drug dealer?”

  Aaron tilted his head back and sighed. He pulled up a chair and sat next to Peter. “Do you even care about what happened to Randy?”