A Necessary Evil(2)

Collin drove in silence to his destination. He abhorred small talk. What was the point, anyway? Some of his girls had tried to talk to him in the past, but he’d quickly put an end to it every time. He couldn’t stand how fake their voices sounded.

Her little red sedan pulled off the roadway, and he drove down the track he’d made with his many trips to his hideout. No one would ever happen upon this place. He’d specifically chosen this location, as it was well off the beaten path. And since it sat on private property his family had owned for generations, no one could even get there without his permission. Plus, there was no way, even if the police ever suspected him, they’d find his special hiding place. It was underground—a bunker his grandfather had built as a bomb shelter during the war. Covered by dead leaves and dried-up, fallen branches, the only way Collin even found it was because of the gnarly tree that had grown up right in front of the entrance.

He tried to pull the girl out of the back seat, but when he grabbed her legs, she kicked and screamed violently. Though no one could hear her this far out, it pissed Collin off that she was being so stubborn, so he drew the gun out of his pocket and whacked her in the head, knocking her out cold. He was careful to hit her on the side of the head. He didn’t want to damage that pretty face in any way. She went out like a light, and it was now easier to drag her out of the car, across the cold, wet ground, and up to the entrance of the hideout.

After setting her legs down carefully, he bent and brushed away the dead leaves and twigs he’d scattered across the door, just in case. When he found the handle, he deftly unlocked it and pulled the door open, letting it fall back with a thud against the ground.

This was the hard part, getting the girl down the steps and into the bunker. Especially girls like this one he’d had to knock unconscious. He could drag her down the steps, but that would bruise her up significantly, and he needed her in pristine condition. The only alternative was to wake her up and force her down the steps. Collin patted her cheeks, lightly at first. When that didn’t work, he slapped her as hard as he could.

She jolted awake, and a blood-curdling scream erupted from her throat.

He didn’t try to stop her this time. He grinned instead. “You’re wasting your breath, sweetheart. No one can hear you out here.”

She tried to scramble away from him.

“There’s nowhere to go, either. It’s just you and me, doll.” He stood and dragged her by the arms to the nearby opening in the ground.

“No!” she shouted over and over again as she fought against him in vain. “I’m not going down there!”

He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Listen, I already told you. If you do as I tell you, I won’t hurt you. But if you continue to fight me, not only will I kill you, but I’ll do it slowly.” Her mouth snapped shut, and then…he finally saw it. That look he was always chasing. “That’s my girl. Now, please…be a good girl and go down the stairs, like I asked.”

She stared at him for a moment longer than was comfortable for him, but eventually turned and climbed down the stairs, whimpering the whole way down. Collin watched her trembling hands grab each rung as she descended into the darkness. The thoughts of what was about to happen made goose pimples appear on his flesh. She was his, now and forever. She knew it too. He’d seen it in her eyes, the moment she’d accepted her fate. But that look was just the precipice for him. He would do everything he’d planned for her, and she would oblige. Why? Because she probably still held out a tiny shred of hope that if she complied, if she did everything exactly as he instructed, she might still get out of this alive. But she didn’t know him. She didn’t know what he was capable of, or that he had no conscience whatsoever. That he’d lived for this moment, and that every girl before her was just practice. She was the one. It all led up to this moment.

He knew the police had been trying hard to stop him. But all they knew was that a string of young women had vanished over the past two years. There were no bodies, no clues, and no evidence whatsoever. Mall surveillance would no doubt capture the grainy image of a dark figure forcing her into her car, but that would be it. He was smart, and he was careful. He’d planned this for years. No one could stop him. This knowledge brought a smile to Collin’s face as he grabbed the latch, climbed down the steps after her, and closed the door behind him.

And now…it begins.





Chapter 2




Kurt



Frustrated, he ripped his notes from the yellow legal pad, scrunched the page into a tight ball, and launched it across his desk toward the trash bin. Of course, it bounced off the rim and fell to the floor. Kurt had played baseball when he was younger, not basketball. And saying he played baseball might even be a bit of a stretch. He spent most of the games warming the bench for the good players like Tommy Donovan and Jimmy Simpson. Coach Little would put him in toward the end of the games whenever it was clear they were either winning by a landslide or losing by a country mile. But his mom and pop would cheer him on from the stands as if Kurt were Babe Ruth, even though he was standing out in the field, more interested in the ladybugs in the grass at his feet than anything that was going on in the infield.

“Hey, Whiskey. You going to pick that up or what?”

His partner, Lonnie Howard, had taken to calling him “Whiskey” the day they were first paired up five years ago. When they introduced themselves, he’d said, “Kurt Jamison? As in, Jameson whiskey?” Kurt had told him it wasn’t, but from that day forward, the stupid nickname stuck.