A long cast.
This is a selection of a fiction novel I wrote back in 2006. It isn't completely proofread, and needs some work.
But! LET'S GO!
Get Back
Chapter 1:
The Sound in the Night
I woke up to the sound of Sara’s voice. She was shaking me gently, and she had a look of
absolute horror. “I heard something downstairs, Luke. Did you hear it too?” Sara is always
hearing things. I tell her she has an overactive imagination all the time. The look on her face
was so sincere; she was completely mortified. I guess you could say that I felt like she was the
one who cried wolf too many times. But I looked at this magnificent woman, her long, flowing
auburn hair, her soulfully deep, sparkling hazel eyes. She has an angelic face, delicate and soft.
Her body is something you dream of. In my eyes, she is the perfect woman. “Sara, are you sure
you heard something?” I said thoughtlessly. “Luke, if I knew what it was, do you think I would
have woken you up?” Her face started to twist up; she was getting upset with me. “Luke! Go
look downstairs and see what it is!” She was getting very anxious now. I had better go and look,
or I will never get to live this down, let alone sleep at all tonight. We’ve done this before, so I
knew that I had to check it out. “Okay, Sara. I’ll be right back. Just stay right here, wait. Shh!”
Now I heard something. A faint creak, or maybe it was a shuffling sound, perhaps the shuffling
of feet? Now I was convinced there was definitely something, or someone, down there, right? I
sat up and got out of bed, not really sure if I was imagining all of this too. Sara has the ability to
implant ideas into my head. She always has. Sometimes I joke with her, tell her that her gig is
up, I know she is a witch and has a spell on me. Anyhow, I was still somewhat concerned about
what I believed was going on. I slipped on my house shoes, then grabbed my trusty Louisville
Slugger and commenced out of the room. Sara was looking thoroughly distraught. “Be careful
and hurry back,” she whispered. I gave her the thumbs-up and proceeded out of the door.
It was unusually dark tonight. It must be a new moon or something, if that’s what you call it.
Walking down the hall in my boxers, I felt somewhat silly with this bat in my hand, yet also
concerned about what I thought I’d heard. Slowly, I walked down the stairs, bypassing the
upstairs rooms. Then, all at once, I saw it, or at least I thought I did, over by the kitchen. Why
would someone breaking into my house go to the kitchen? The sarcastic little guy in my head
told me they must be parched, going for some refreshments. Carefully, I walked toward the
kitchen, step after step. Now I was actually feeling pretty freaked out. As I peeked around the
corner, I heard something, a faint noise, but from where? I stood completely still and tried to
focus, it was the garage! Now I was fully aware that there was definitely someone in the house.
Someone, by their presence, was threatening the sanctity of my house. What did they have in
mind? What was in store for my family? What were they here to gain? My mind was racing over
many possible reasons for their being here and the outcomes that might be. As I walked
stealthily toward the garage, it occurred to me, who’s to say there’s only one intruder? Wouldn’t I
feel totally silly if this was just Sara’s cat? That cat is very peculiar. It has probably found a
plaything and is chasing shadows or something. As I walked up to the interior door to the
garage, I noticed that it was ajar. I felt a rush of adrenaline sweep through my body, a feeling I
hadn’t felt since my days of partying in college. It felt like every hair on my body was standing on
end and like fire pumping through my veins. I felt my grip tighten on my sole tool, my wooden
bat. Fleeting thoughts of security were now replaced with exhilaration and fear. What do I do?
Should I sound off and alert the assailants of my presence? No, I shall try to hold on to what I
consider possibly my only advantage; I have the drop on them. They are more than likely not
expecting a bat-wielding man roaming through this great urban home. As I stepped into the
pitch-black garage, I paused to allow my eyes to adjust. Then I heard it. It was, in fact, that
mischievous cat. I turned on the light, and there he was. What a relief. “Snitches, what in the
hell are you doing out here? And how in the hell did you open the door?” Wait, the door was
open? At this exact moment of realization, I heard the most horrible sound, a sound you hear in
your nightmares, a chain of events that makes your heart hit the floor and an encompassing
feeling of doom and unending terror. It was the sound of a small-caliber pistol, probably a 9mm,
followed by the shriek of a mortified woman. Sara!
Chapter 2:
The Assault
My beautiful wife was alone and possibly had just taken a bullet! Wait, she was not alone.
Whoever was in the house was there with her! I felt the rage boiling up through my body. I raced
through my dark home, up the stairs, directly to my bedroom. I saw Sara lying on the bed; she
was completely still. I could see she had not been shot. What a relief! Why was she not talking
to me? What had they done to my wife? As I scanned the room, I did not see anyone anywhere.
“Sara, are you okay?” I asked her in desperation. Sara was trembling, and her normally
olive-colored skin was so ghostly white it was unreal. The look in her eyes was like she had just
seen something strange, something unimaginably terrible. She nodded her head yes; however,
she looked very shaken up. At that moment, I was running through my brain frantically, where
did the gunshot come from? Where was the person who pulled the trigger? “Sara, where did
they go?” I asked. Sara’s eyes were growing very large, but she was saying nothing. Why was
she not answering me? She was doing something with her eyes, she was gesturing to me.
Behind me! Gripping my bat, I felt the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. As I began to turn
around, I felt a shock run through my spine. Had I been shot? Then I saw him, those eyes, so
demonic, so sinister, and yet vaguely familiar. My legs were weak; my grip on my only hope, the
bat, was faltering. Then again, I felt the shock, but this time it seemed to be emanating from the
left side of my head. Yes, definitely my head! I fell to my knees, clutching the bat; my vision was
hazy and closing in on me. “What do you want from us?” I wasn’t sure if the words were actually
coming out of my mouth audibly or if they were just indiscernible thoughts. The intruder was
looking at me, looking into my eyes through some sort of mask. He was saying something, but I
didn’t hear anything except a hideous ringing. He had something shiny in his right hand and also
something in the other, the pistol! He raised the pistol and directed the barrel directly at my face!
This guy was gonna execute me in my own house, in front of my terrified wife. I was frozen in
time. I could not move. He was saying something to me, but I still heard nothing. My vision was
closing in so very quickly; I was having a difficult time focusing. All of a sudden, he pulled the
gun back and swung it right into my head. 3 replies
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Chapter 3:
A Dangerous Proposition
“I don’t understand why, Sam, why you’d even wanna consider doing this but it sounds
deviously exciting. You know I’ll do anything for you!” the woman shouted over the pounding
techno music and the roar of all the ecstasy-enhanced youth. They were in an out-of-the-way
underground club in an industrial area. The man sitting opposite her at the table, Sam, was
looking at her with a mixture of disgust and longing. Sam had never enjoyed the company of a
woman who was so quick to conform, to do his every wish right at his command. Sam had
always enjoyed the chase, the game, and the challenge of a headstrong woman. Vanessa was
definitely not that type of woman, but she’d definitely do. She was youthful and physically
strong, with a body that resembled a long-distance runner’s lean, tight, and what Sam would call
“ready.” Ready for just about anything physical. Vanessa was looking back at him with a puzzled
yet devious expression. She truly enjoyed the idea of this endeavor. “Vanessa, this, in fact, is
not something that you’re required to understand, but you must, however, be willing to do
everything I ask without hesitation. Everything!” Sam’s gaze pierced into her with the utmost
seriousness. Vanessa looked away, swirling the straw in her drink. The thought of this
proposition was truly thrilling. To possibly get back what she so desired, what she’d lost what
seemed such a long, long time ago, was almost unfathomable. She was filled with excitement
and a desire to act right now, to begin tonight, this exact moment in time. “Sam, I’ll do anything
you desire, no questions asked,” she said, drinking up the last bit of her beverage through one
of those fluorescent green straws you see in some clubs. Looking up at him, she sensed
something, something emanating from this man, from his soul, something so focused, on the
verge of evil, an animalistic desire. This drive excited her; she felt deep inside her an urge to
seduce him. But for some reason, she knew, even though she considered herself irresistible, as
did most men, this man just seemed as if he’d deny her. Maybe later, maybe after this starts,
she thought to herself. “Vanessa, this is something that, once you start, there’s no backing out.
I’ll, how do I say this? Make you vanish, disappear, if you decide you want out or falter in any
way.” She was shocked at these words and felt her face flush. Thankfully, it was rather dark in
this club, she said to herself. “I’m in one hundred percent. Now tell me where to begin.” “Don’t
concern yourself with the details, my young vixen. Just be ready. We’ll begin one evening this
month. I’ll make all the arrangements and prepare for anything imaginable. Don’t lose that
charm of yours and have a bag packed.” “Sir, would you and the young lady like another drink?”
said the barmaid who had just slid up next to the table. How long she’d been standing there
concerned Sam. “One more Stoli martini for me and for my beautiful guest” looking at Vanessa
as he spoke. “Oh, I’ll have one more please, yes, Sex on the Beach,” gazing back at Sam. They
sat in silence for a few moments, the pulsing of the music and the flash of the lights surrounding
them, thoughts of what was to come filling both of their minds, revenge. Sam thought to himself
how sweet it was or actually, how sweet it’d be once everything fell into place. “Here you are,
ma’am, sir,” the waitress said as she placed the drinks on the small table, thinking to herself,
what an unlikely pair. Maybe just friends or business associates, but no, look at how they look at
each other, anyway, why do I care? “Thank you. Please bring me the bill,” said Sam, his eyes
glancing from Vanessa and burning into the young waitress. Damn, this guy looks absolutely
insane, she thought. “Yes, sir, I’ll be right back with it,” as she hurried away. “Vanessa, this is to Get Back…” raising his glass, gesturing for a toast. Vanessa, with an evil smirk on her face,
raised her glass, clinking it to his. “To Get Back…” They drank to this toast, consecrating a bond
that’d lead them to finality, a closure on a part of their lives.
Chapter 4:
The Plan Unfolds
“Take me home, Sam. I think I’ve had enough.” “Very well,” he said dryly, not particularly wanting
to go anywhere but not wanting to stay in this club alone. Dropping a fifty on the table, Sam
stepped off his chair, grabbed Vanessa by the hand, looked into her eyes, and said to her in a
most serious tone, “This is all between you and me, until death.” Vanessa, fearful yet very
excited, knew this was a threat, and a promise. “‘Til death,” she said. “Let’s go.” Walking out of
the dark, smoky club into the brisk night air, she sensed something, like a fresh beginning, a
renewed vigor for life. She looked at this man beside her, such an intense man. Sinister yet so
attractive, she thought to herself. This guy is… is so dangerous! If I didn’t know any better, I’d
think he was Satan himself. Sam looked down at his young accomplice, noticing her gazing at
him. “Take this,” he said to her, pulling an envelope out of his jacket pocket, handing it to her.
“Review it in the privacy of your home, memorize it, and destroy it.” “Here comes a cab, will you
come with me?” she asked Sam invitingly. She always did this, without fail. “You know the
answer to that, my dear,” said Sam. She looked a bit disappointed but didn’t expect anything
different. Opening the cab door and helping Vanessa in, he said to her, “Good night, rest, and I’ll
be in touch.” Closing the door and watching the cab speed away, Sam wondered what it’d be
like to just take her up on the offer, just once. I bet she’s a banshee in the sack, he thought, but
it’d change everything. It’d never work out. Hailing a cab, Sam thought to himself, I wonder what
that bastard is doing right now? As the cab pulled up, he decided to take a few moments of the
night and go find out. “Cabbie, I need about an hour of your time.” “Time is money, mister,” the
cabbie said, eyeing Sam. “Money’s not an issue, sir,” said Sam as he handed him two crisp
one-hundred-dollar bills. “Just forget me and this little road trip, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You’re the boss! Where to?” said the cabbie energetically. “Get on the loop southbound and get
off on exit 134.” The cabbie looked back at Sam. “Nice neighborhood, here we go.” Riding by
the house, it occurred to Sam, why not now? I’ve got most everything planned, and it looks like
the neighborhood is dead. Dialing his phone, he said to the cabbie, “Back to the club you picked
me up at.” The cab made a right and sped back to the origin of this trip. As the phone rang, Sam
became irritated and impatient, thinking to himself how he’d told her to be ready at any moment.
Then he heard her voice. “Sam, have you finally changed your mind and decided to come stay
the night?” He heard the desire and anxiety in her voice, and it made him smile. Such a silly
woman. One day, I’m sure, but not tonight, young lady. “Vanessa, listen to me very carefully. It
begins tonight. Have you looked in the envelope?” “Yes, and I’ve got most everything except”
“Never mind, Vanessa, I’ll handle it. Dress appropriately, and I’ll be at your door in forty-five
minutes.” Back at the club, Sam stepped out of the cab and walked two blocks to his car. He
never parked at the club, instead parking in a pay garage. His baby, the 2006 Z06 Corvette, just
wasn’t safe outside! As the valet brought up his car, Sam thought to himself how he loathed the idea of this young kid behind the wheel of such a magnificent piece of American engineering.
“Your car is amazing, sir!” the young man said as he handed over the keys. “I know,” Sam said,
grabbing his keys as he sat in the cockpit of his only love. Rolling away in his horse-drawn
chariot, 505 horses, he thought to himself. As he pulled into his garage, he thought to himself,
it’s finally beginning, now! With the items in the gym bag they’d need, Sam got into the old panel
van he’d “requisitioned” a few days ago. 1 reply
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Chapter 5:
Bound and Helpless
Oh my God, what a nightmare, I thought to myself. Jesus, that was extremely too real! Still
half-asleep, feeling this intense throbbing in my neck and head, I realized that this unimaginable
nightmare was, in fact, reality. I was bound to an old wooden chair that Sara’s late father had
made her. Sara. Sara? “Sara, where are you?” I asked her in desperation. “Sara!” No answer.
What the hell was going on here? What really happened? I looked down at myself. I was taped
with duct tape to the chair. My legs were wrapped up in this shit an innumerable number of
times. My hands were behind my back, and they were wrapped together by tape, I was sure and
the shit was around my chest and the back of the chair. Whoever did this didn’t want me to
move too much; my legs were bound to the legs of the chair. “Sara!” Where was my wife? Dear
Lord, please let her be alive, I said to myself. Okay, I wondered how long I’d been tied like this.
As I looked around the room, nothing looked out of place. Above a photo of us from last summer
was the clock, 4:30. Damn, I’d been out for a while. Who in the hell did this? I was seriously
becoming furious, considering the dire condition I was in. Where was my wife? Struggling with
the tape and the chair seemed futile. I had to find Sara. Maybe I could stand and break the chair
somehow. “Ring, ring.” Oh great, the phone. The answering machine would get it. “…Luke, this
is Tom. Don’t forget about dinner tonight. The reservation’s at seven sharp. Bring the plans for
the house. See ya then, bro.” Click. Somehow, I didn’t feel that dinner with my best friend was
really important right now. Now, to get out of this entrapment. How? Oh yeah, try to break the
chair. Rocking back and forth, the chair was creaking under the pressure, but I seriously
doubted it’d give way. Who’d have thought duct tape would seriously be this strong? I had to find
my wife. Okay, I remembered Sara and the gunshot, and she’d looked okay, but damn, it was all
blank after that. If she was shot… my God, I had to get up there in case she needed help!
Maybe I could… yes. Lunging and hopping over to the small round table that Sara insisted we
put the phone on, I realized this might actually work. Knocking the phone off the table, yes!
Okay, the house shoe, how to get this thing off? Shit, it was hopeless. “Ring, ring.” Eureka! I
bounced the chair to get my foot to the phone “Ring.” Shit, I couldn’t quite get it. “Ring.” Just a
bit more. “Luke, I forgot to let you know that” ah, got it. “Tom! Listen carefully, can you hear me?”
I asked him, hoping he realized I was here. “Luke, I can barely hear you.” Tom’s voice projected
over the answering machine. “Tom, I need you here now. Someone broke into the house, and I
believe Sara may be upstairs, shot!” I could hear the fear and disbelief in my own voice, the
verbalization of my worst fear ringing in my ears. “Luke, I can’t quite get it all, but I heard, I think,
that you said Sara was shot! I’m on 4th and Vine, be there in five minutes!” Click. A dial tone. Hurry, Tom, hurry, I said to myself. This had gotta be the longest five minutes I’d experienced.
Jesus, what if she was up there bleeding, dead? No, she must be alive; she looked okay when I
saw her last! Click, ah, the door. “Luke, where are you?” Tom called out to me; he sounded
somewhat frantic. “In the den.” Tom dashed into the room, looking completely surprised when
he saw me. “Luke, you look horrible, what did they do to you? Nice shiner!” “Tom, I don’t have
any idea. Just get me loose!” “Okay.” As he cut the duct tape, I recollected and explained to him
everything that had happened, well, everything I remembered. Sara! Finally loose from the
bindings, I ran up the stairs to our room. She wasn’t there. Sprinting through the house
frantically, looking, searching, Sara was nowhere! “Luke, come in here,” Tom called to me from
what sounded like the kitchen. I felt my heart sink. He’d found her. “I think you need to see this,
Luke.” “Who’d do this? Who?” I asked myself, but spoke aloud, Tom looking at me quizzically.
My stomach turned inside out as I saw the horrendous sight. 1 reply
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Chapter 6:
The Intruders’ Move
Rolling away from his home, Sam ran a checklist in his head: Pistols, two, check. Night vision,
check. Cuffs, check. Crazed female accomplice, soon. He smiled to himself, thinking of
Vanessa. Such a devout partner. Yes, she’d prove to be invaluable, he thought to himself. Sam
wheeled the van up to Vanessa’s driveway, seeing her watching out between the mini blinds
from her kitchen. At once, the blinds bounced back to normal as she stepped away, and in a few
short moments, she came strolling out of the front door. Carefully locking the door, she turned
and proceeded to the van. Sam reached over to open the door for her, looking her over to make
sure her attire was suitable. It’d do, he thought to himself as Vanessa stepped up into the van’s
captain chair. “Nice ride!” she said in a sarcastic tone, looking Sam and the van over as if they
were an odd pair. “Vanessa, are you ready? I mean for anything? I’m sure this’ll be basically
uneventful, but people are known to do anything out of fear.” Sam eyed her and looked for any
sign of weakness, but of course, she was as solid and strong as ever. She truly would be perfect
for this, he told himself. “Don’t you forget what anguish I’ve suffered, Sam. What we’re
beginning will be a relief. This bitch is gonna pay!” Vanessa’s demeanor suddenly hinted at a
demonic side; the pain and hurt burned inside her. They rode in silence for a while, passing
through the town, a town of strangers, unaware of these two insane cohorts’ plan. As they
neared their destination, Sam reached down to the gym bag between them and handed it over
to Vanessa. “Open it up and get your insurance.” Vanessa looked at him with a fiendish smirk,
unzipped the bag, and rummaged through the contents until she found the case for the pistol,
the pistol she’d shot only a few times, but it felt perfectly at home in her petite hands: the
Walther PPKS. She opened the case and extracted the pistol, checking the magazine to ensure
it was, in fact, loaded to capacity. It’s ready, she thought to herself. It makes me feel like an
international spy, like James Bond, no, Jane Bond! Vanessa smiled to herself, looked back in
the bag, and pulled out the other “insurance,” as Sam called it. It was way too big for her hands,
but she thought it was just right for Sam: the HK USP. “Here you go, Clyde,” she said to Sam.
“Cute, Bonnie. Now let’s get serious. When we pull up to the house, we’ve got a short window of time. Now, we should have no problem with the neighbors, but we must act swiftly nonetheless.
Follow my lead.” Sam was looking at Vanessa in a very stern manner, very serious. “If it gets out
of hand here, we cannot leave anything to trace us. Grab the cuffs from the bag, here we are,”
pulling right up into the driveway, only after shutting off the headlights on the roadway. “Sam,
there’s no tape. There’s NO tape!” Vanessa exclaimed, looking at him anxiously. Shit, mistake
number one, Sam. “It’s fine, Van. We’ll get through this just fine. We’ll go in; I’ll go directly to the
garage and find some tape,” he said as he grabbed the night-vision monocle and put it in his
pocket. Vanessa, seeing him do this, grabbed the other and did the same. “Now let’s do this.”
“Okay.” Sam slowly opened the door, stepped out, and shut it back just enough to extinguish the
interior dome light. Vanessa did the same, and they quietly walked directly to the front door of
the “target” home. Sam looked at Vanessa, gestured for complete silence, and withdrew his
lock-pick kit from his inside pocket. Vanessa watched anxiously as he worked his magic on the
deadbolt. She looked around at the neighborhood, thinking, this should be mine. Click. Wow,
that was quick, she thought to herself. They stepped into the dark house. Sam turned to the
right, and there it was, the alarm console. Holding his breath, he entered the code: 4375. Beep,
beep. All clear. Well-spent hundred dollars. Looking back at Vanessa, Sam signaled her to
follow. As they walked toward the stairs, he signaled her to stand guard here while he
proceeded to the garage. She nodded in understanding and slipped into a shadow cast by some
large piece of furniture. Sam continued on past the kitchen, down a hallway in darkness, out
came the night vision. Oh yes, he thought to himself. Let there be sight! Here we go,
everything’s going fine. Sam spotted the door to the garage; it was locked. Good thing I’m
already in, Sam smiled as he turned the lock, opened the door, and stepped into the garage. It
was very organized, with a workbench, shelves, and a pegboard with various hand tools
hanging on it. Stepping over to the pegboard on the wall, he suddenly sensed something and
froze in his tracks, looked around, and at that instant, he had the source of the presence in his
line of sight: two glowing eyes peering up at him with a curious expression. A damn house cat!
Relief! Sam turned back to focus on the task at hand, find the duct tape; this was taking too
long. Hanging on the second peg, right by a claw hammer, was the bounty. Grabbing the tape,
Sam turned and suddenly heard something. Someone was coming! Ducking and hiding behind
the pickup truck just in the nick of time, he put the night-vision monocle in his pocket and
readied his pistol. The light immediately illuminated the garage. Sam’s blood began to boil in his
veins. He felt the anger attempt to take over, but he pushed it down deep inside. No time for
you, he realized. Startled, he heard the man’s voice “Snitches…” Crack! A shot rang through the
house! The man was gone! Sam cautiously proceeded through the garage. Then he realized the
man had walked right by Vanessa, and she must be up with the woman! 1 reply
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Chapter 7:
Chaos Unleashed
The house was terribly dark, and Vanessa was just standing, waiting. The animosity was getting
to her. This house, all of the things in it, the neighborhood, it all made her angry. It should be
hers, in her mind. Looking around the still, dark house, Vanessa noticed something, motion, a voice? Looking around frantically, she honed in on the source, an upstairs door was opening,
and a faint light illuminated a large figure. It must be him! Her senses on edge, synapses firing
wildly, her first instinct was to execute the bastard. Damn the plan, damn everything! Vanessa, a
voice in her head called to her, you cannot let him off as easy as death. Realizing that he was
now descending the stairs, coming right toward her, she slunk her body deeper into the shadow,
readied her pistol, just in case. It was taking him forever to come down the stairs! At once, there
he was, standing directly in front of her, gripping a bat. She could smell the fear emanating from
him. Exhilaration rushed through her, the thrill of the hunt, knowing her prey was fearful, having
no idea she was here. Watching the man closely, Vanessa raised her PPKS slowly, her anger
and rage trying to overpower her reasoning. He started to walk away, then directed himself
toward the kitchen but abruptly paused. At once, he directed his attention in the direction Sam
had gone! He proceeded that way, and Vanessa thought to herself, I have to take control of the
situation now! A million scenarios rushed through her head, follow him and do what? Shoot
him? That bitch he married would surely call the police. Think. In an instant, Vanessa stepped
out of her shadowy perch and proceeded up the stairs, slowly and steadily. Holding the
night-vision monocle in one hand and the Walther in the other, she crept toward the origin of
“Mr. Luke.” Easing up to the partially opened door, feeling like an infallible, unstoppable hunter,
she placed the monocle in her pocket, grasped the pistol in both hands, and swung the door
open, stepping into the room with complete confidence. There she sat on the bed, half-dressed,
clutching a pillow tight to her chest. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her mouth was
starting to open, Vanessa rushed forward directly at her. “Bitch, if you utter one word, if you
make one sound, I’ll paint a Picasso with your brain on that pretty white wall behind you! Don’t
test me!” The tiniest peep escaped from her lips, crack! Vanessa unleashed the fury of her
pistol, fire shrieking a foot from the barrel, the projectile passing through the woman’s hair,
vanishing into the wall behind her. “NOT A SOUND!” Vanessa exclaimed. Realizing “Mr. Luke”
would surely be en route, Vanessa stepped back behind the door she’d just entered through,
keeping the pistol on the sniveling woman.
Sam, realizing what possibly had just happened, followed stealthily behind, just out of sight,
through the hall, by the stairs where Vanessa was once hidden. Sam followed slowly up the
stairs; then he heard him, Luke: “Sara, are you okay?” Lurching up behind him, again Luke
spoke, “Sara? Where did they go?” As Sam stepped within reach, he raised the pistol above his
head.
Vanessa, with her pistol on the woman, heard the sounds of someone running up the stairs. She
saw the man enter the room through the crack between the door and its frame out of her
peripheral vision. Instinctively, she turned and aimed the firearm in the direction of the door,
chest-high, directly at the man, with her eyes still trained on the pitiful woman, piercing into her
with a fire-like gaze. The man on the other side of the door spoke, but it was unintelligible to
Vanessa. She focused on the task at hand: watching the woman and covering herself with the
pistol against the bat-wielding man. Her gaze alternated between the woman and the edge of
the door, watching for any movements. Then, at once, the woman’s eyes grew twice their
normal size, and pop! The sound of a blunt object crashing down onto bone. Vanessa stepped
around the door, seeing “Mr. Luke”, he was facing Sam, faltering, falling to his knees. The
woman seemed frozen in time, not a sound nor motion. Sam drew his pistol back and backhanded the man with the butt of his pistol across the head. The pitiful man, grasping at his
bat, looked up at Sam, Sam staring down on him. Sam, at once, looked as if he’d lost control,
aiming the HK directly into the cowering man’s face. “I’ll have my revenge, you piece of shit!”
Sam professed as he struck down onto him once again with the butt of the pistol.
As Luke fell to the floor, Vanessa turned the PPKS to the woman on the bed, considering her
next move. Turning to Sam, glancing at him with an expression of “What now?” “Take this tape
and bind her arms together behind her back, tape her mouth shut, and put a pillowcase over her
head.” Vanessa grabbed the tape out of Sam’s grasp and looked at the woman with a devious
smile as she closed in on her. “Sara, is it? Well, he always knew how to pick ‘em! Sara, me and
you, we’re gonna have lots of fun together,” Vanessa told the frightened woman with a sinister
tone. “Well, at least I’m gonna have fun with you!” Sara was out of it; she was catatonic, not
moving, not speaking, and just complying fully. “I assumed you’d be more of a fight, pitiful!”
Vanessa mumbled to herself as she pulled Sara’s arms behind her back and wrapped the duct
tape around her wrists. Sam was pacing the room, deep in thought. He grabbed one of the
pillows off the bed and removed the case, handing it to Vanessa. “Finish her up and stay right
here with her while I take the pinch-hitter downstairs,” Sam said with an authoritative tone,
taking the tape and putting it in his pocket. Vanessa glanced at him with a nod of understanding,
thinking to herself, anything for you, Sam, as long as I have my way with this little bitch! Sam
grabbed Luke, hurled the flaccid body over his broad shoulder and, seemingly effortlessly,
carried him down the stairs, scanning the area for a perfect spot to restrain “dear Luke.”
Spotting what looked to be a rather sturdy wooden chair, Sam knew at once this’d do. Plopping
the limp body into the chair and positioning it proved to be a daunting task, but Sam completed
it nonetheless. As he secured Luke’s arms and legs, Sam heard Vanessa taunting the woman
upstairs, thinking to himself, he was gonna have to set some ground rules about this situation.
Okay, time to get out of here. Sam headed back upstairs to get the woman, only to see Vanessa
brandishing a knife and running the dull side over Sara’s bare flesh. Tears were flowing down
her picturesque face, and she was terrified. “Okay, enough, for now. Let’s get her out of here.”
Vanessa looked at Sam, somewhat disappointed at having to stop but realizing they had to get
the show on the road. Holding the knife in her teeth, Vanessa neared the cowering woman,
maneuvering her face within inches of her victim’s. She smiled and laughed a sadistic laugh as
she placed the shroud over her face. With a satisfied look, she turned to Sam. “Okay, all ready
here!” “Just one finishing touch,” as he placed tape around her neck to hold the pillowcase in
place. Sam grabbed her around the waist, dragged her to the edge of the bed, and motioned
her to stand. “Just do what I say, and you won’t be hurt. Now stand!” Reluctantly, Sara stood
and let out the faintest whine as Sam grabbed her around the thighs and hoisted her rigid body
over his shoulder. “Relax, Sara.” She was weeping as she lay across his shoulder. “Okay, let’s
go, my big, strong man.” Vanessa was rushing in excitement and joy; her voice reflected this, as
did her expression. Lumbering down the stairs, Vanessa spotted Luke, thinking to herself, we’re
forgetting something. “Sam, what about our dear friend?” Sam, rolling this thought over in his
head, said to her, “Yes, leave it in the kitchen. Be creative.” Vanessa, like a kid in a candy store,
smiling from ear to ear, strolled into the kitchen. “Hurry up, we've gotta get going. We’ve got
quite a trip ahead of us, many things to do.” Sam, eyeing Luke, wondered how long he’d be out. 1 reply
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Chapter 8:
A Gruesome Message
“Ahh!” Vanessa shrieked from the kitchen. “Die!” she screamed! Still carrying the woman over
his shoulder, Sam quickly moved toward her. Gazing into the dark kitchen, he saw the bloody
scene. “Vile creatures, these damned cats,” Vanessa muttered as she proceeded to write her
note on the floor in crimson oozing from the cat’s gut. “Okay, let’s get out of here. You go out,
open the side door on the van, and double-check the neighborhood,” Sam ordered her in a firm
manner. “Okay, I suppose this’ll work.” Vanessa stood, took one last look at her masterpiece,
and proceeded to the front door, Sam right on her heels. They entered the van, slowly pulled out
of the driveway, and away, unnoticed by anyone.
Lying in the back of this strange van, Sara wept as she ran through the events of the previous
few minutes. What in the world did these people want? How did they know her name? Sara ran
all these things through her head. What were they gonna do to her? Thank God they’d removed
the pillowcase from her head. Oh my God. She heard the two in the front of the van talking
about some trip, but the radio was drowning out most of the conversation. As she felt the van
accelerate, Sara felt as if someone was near her; their presence was unnerving. Looking over
her shoulder, her fear was true. It was the knife-handling crazed lunatic, eyeing her like a nice
cut of meat. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re gonna live, but you may very well wish you didn’t!”
she laughed. This woman was surely the spawn of Satan, the devil’s daughter. Sara imagined.
She shuddered at the thought of all the horrible things running through her head—they were
gonna torture then kill her. What about Luke? Did they kill him? She heard the man say over the
radio, “Put her out; it’s in the bag.” What was in the bag? And then she saw it, this psychotic
woman was brandishing a large syringe. Jesus, they were gonna kill her! Sara suddenly had a
new realization that this, in fact, was happening and began to struggle. “Hold still, bitch!” Sara
looked up at her at the exact instant she was hit with the back of a small, bony hand. Stunned,
Sara watched with terror as the needle was brought to her neck and the contents were
emptied…
Unbelievable. I stared at the sight in front of me and wondered what it meant. What a sick, sick
bastard. On the floor in front of me, there, in a pool of his own blood, was Snitches, Sara’s cat.
He’d been cut all apart. On the refrigerator, smeared with bloody fingers, was a note: “WE HAVE
YOUR OTHER CAT.” Suddenly, the entire situation overwhelmed me. I raced to the bathroom
as my gut began to bubble, and I made it just in time. It felt like I was vomiting everything,
including my organs. “Luke, I’m calling the police and an ambulance,” Tom called to me from the
other room. “No, I’m fine, no ambulance,” I responded, not seriously believing that. I was not
fine. My Sara was gone. I had a pounding headache, and my vision seemed skewed. “You look
terrible. Come in here and have a seat while we wait for the medics,” Tom said to me, grabbing
my arm and urging me out of the bathroom. He’d done this before, like in college when I drank
too much. I wasn’t sure, but maybe he subconsciously connected the bathroom and the illness
together—if he got me out of there, I wouldn’t puke again. I got up and went with him into the
den and grabbed a seat on the couch near a picture window so I could see the arrival of the
police. I really wasn’t looking forward to any conversation with the police; I rather despised them, not that they’d ever done me wrong, but I’d seen them take people from my life and just
cause havoc on families. In fact, the more I thought about it, I was sure they’d assume I was the
culprit in this situation. “Here comes the parade,” I said to Tom. He walked over to the window,
looking out at the oncoming barrage of vehicles, and said, “Luke, stay put. I’ll let them in and
send the medics to see you. We’ll get to the bottom of this real quick.” Somehow, I had a sense
that it wouldn’t be so easy. That man in the mask, those eyes, so familiar.
Chapter 9:
Aftermath and Investigation
I heard the police enter the house; it sounded like Tom was filling them in on the story as the
medics made their way to me. “Mr.?” the female medic said to me in a questioning tone.
“Williamson, call me Luke.” “Okay, Luke, what’s the date today?” she asked, looking me over,
focusing on my head. “Sunday, March 12, 2006.” “Good, that’s fine. Now, who’s our president?”
“G.W.,” I responded. As I sat there, I wondered about my wife. Was she okay? I hated to think of
her with this man, this monster who’d done this to me. “Luke, I need you to lie right here; we’re
gonna have to take you in for an MRI. You took a pretty hard knock to the dome,” the male
medic said while directing me onto his stretcher. Here we go, I thought to myself. “No, I’ve gotta
find my wife! I’ve gotta go now! Tom, let’s go, you drive.” Standing up, I felt strangely dizzy, but
not so bad that I couldn’t still walk. “Sir, please sit down. I don’t think you’re in any shape to go
anywhere,” a young policeman ordered me from across the room. Who did this guy think he
was, telling me what I’m gonna do in my house? The thought severely angered me! “I don’t think
you understand, youngster. My wife’s missing, and I’m gonna find her right now!” As the words
came out of my mouth, my head began to pound; my vision was very distorted now. Okay, I just
needed to rest for a moment, and I’d be just fine. No, let’s just go, I told myself. Sara needed me
now—no time to wait. She was still close; they couldn’t have made it too far. Wow, I was really
dizzy. Just walk to the car, Luke—you can do this. A million images flashed before my eyes:
Sara, silenced on the bed; the door open to the garage; the sound of a gunshot; the man; those
eyes… I felt the ground come up to my knees, but I couldn’t see anything, blackness…
“Tell us what you know, Tom, is it?” the young police officer said to Tom, gesturing to himself and
the investigator in street clothes. “Yes, my name’s Tom. Okay, I was calling Luke to confirm a
dinner date when he told me someone had broken into his house and possibly shot his wife,”
Tom told them slowly. “I was just down the street, so I rushed over, and here was Luke, taped to
this chair with duct tape. I cut him free, and he ran upstairs to look for Sara, his wife. I walked
into the kitchen and discovered Snitches.” Tom looked flushed and exasperated from the telling
of these events. The investigator sat quietly, writing notes, occasionally glancing up at Tom and
also at the young uniform. “Snitches? I suppose that’d be the calico?” the young cop stated
quizzically. Tom nodded yes. “Tell me, Tom, is there anything else you can recall that may help
us determine what happened here? Anything?” Tom was showing his anxiousness. “Officer, do
we have to do this now? I mean, my best friend just passed out and was taken away in an
ambulance. I’d like to go see him!” Pacing back and forth, Tom was ready to leave. The young officer looked to his superior and shrugged, as if asking if he was to let him go. The inspector
nodded in affirmation and continued to make notes. “Sir, you’re free to go. Here’s my card; call
me the moment anything comes to mind. We’ll be in touch.” Hearing these words, Tom departed
from the house rapidly, off to the hospital.
White light. A young blonde woman dressed in all white. Everything was hazy. Jesus, I was
dead. If so, why was my head throbbing? The woman was standing over me, looking at me with
concern. Her lips were moving; she was saying something to me. “Mr. Williamson, do you hear
me?” she said in an angelic voice. “I need you to respond. If you can, nod, or blink, or
something.” “How about I just say ‘yes’?” Her face flushed a bit. I think I embarrassed her.
Realizing I was, in fact, not dead, only in a hospital, I sat up and immediately lay back down.
The pain in my head was unbearable. I closed my eyes, trying to will the pain away, to no avail.
“Ma’am, Tylenol, please?” I asked, knowing it probably wouldn’t help. “Dr., Mr. Williamson’s back
with us!” You could hear the smile in her voice. She really loved her job. “Mr. Williamson,” a
smug, gray-haired man said with a scratchy voice. “You seem to have sustained a traumatic
blow to your head with some sort of blunt object. We need to run some tests.” He looked at me
over the small, round glasses perched on his slender nose. “After the tests, we’ll do our best to
make the pain subside.” “Well, what are we waiting on?” I asked, ready to get this over with.
“Luke, are you okay?” Tom must’ve just slipped into the room; he looked severely distraught.
“He seems to be, but we’ll run a test or two and have a look at his noggin.” “Yeah, I’m okay,
Tom,” scowling at the doctor. “We need to take you now, Mr. Williamson.” Looking at Tom, the
nurse said, “Sir, you can wait in the lobby, and we’ll notify you when the tests are over.” I felt the
bed beneath me begin to roll—here we go! Great, I didn’t like hospitals at all, especially being
here knowing my Sara was out there somewhere, all alone. 1 reply
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Chapter 10:
Into the Wilderness
“Peterson, make sure we get the pictures of the kitchen, the chair, and sweep the house for
prints. Also, have someone talk to all the neighbors, surely someone’s seen something.” “10-4,
I’m on it,” the young officer said to his boss, the plain-clothed investigator. “What kind of sicko
wrote this note? James, you think they’re referring to the wife?” James, looking at his notepad,
gave him a look of disbelief. “Of course, Peterson. What else would it mean?” “Well, maybe they
had another cat or something…” Peterson stopped abruptly, noticing he was beginning to sound
ignorant. Trying to get onto another subject, he got up and mumbled something about prints and
moved off through the house.
The next day “Dr., can I go now? You already told me my head’s okay, nothing major, right?” I
asked, ready to go. Now I’d sat here and endured the tests, the machines, and, worst of all, the
awful food. I was just ready to go, go look for Sara. It was 2 p.m., and I could’ve spent all this
time today searching for my dear Sara. The doctor was looking over his clipboard, probably
trying to find some reason to lengthen my stay just a bit longer. Tom, my great friend, had been here with me all night and had recently dozed off in the chair in the corner. How could he sleep
at a time like this? Finally, the doctor looked at me. “Mr. Williamson,” he said in his scratchy
voice, “you’re correct that all tests show no major damage. However, I feel that you need to be
under observation for another twenty-four hours.” “Dr.! My wife’s just been abducted! I’ve gotta
go!” I realized that I was screaming at this man; he was only trying to ensure my health. But I
had to go; I had to get somewhere… Think, Luke, think. Tom! “Dr., what do you think about
this?” If he didn’t agree, I’d just leave anyway. “How about I have Tom here” gesturing to Tom
“stay with me for however long you require, and if anything seems wrong, we’ll call. Deal?” The
doctor looked as if he didn’t wanna agree, but I believed he sensed that I planned on going no
matter what. He double-checked his clipboard, looked at me, then at Tom, and with a look of
disgust and exasperation, he said, “Let’s make sure your friend’s up for the endeavor.” Great, I
knew Tom’d do it, but who knew how long the doctor wanted? “Tom, Tom!” I called to him. He
slowly opened his eyes, blinking slowly and clearing the sleep from them. “Tom, the only way I
can leave is if you agree to stay with me for…” “Let’s make it thirty-six hours,” the doctor chimed
in. “Uh, oh, yeah, that’s no problem, Luke. Hell, we’ve got plenty to do anyhow.” Thank God for a
good buddy.
Walking out of the hospital, I felt the anxiety overcome me. My sweet Sara, where had they
taken her? I kept running that message from the refrigerator over and over in my head. What a
crude note, but it surely meant she was alive. I thought about this over and over. Who’d do this?
“Luke, the police asked me to call them the moment you were released so they could talk to you
about last night,” Tom said, looking at me over his car before getting in. “Just take me home;
we’ll call a bit later.” I could tell by his expression that Tom didn’t agree but accepted my
suggestion, if only for a short while. “Luke, she’s alive. I’m sure of it.” “I know.” We got into the
car and proceeded out of the parking lot toward the scene of the abduction, my home. The
thought made my body shudder; my head ached for my wife, my best friend. What had they
done to her? It was a quiet trip back to my home, recollecting the events in my mind, the sound,
I walked to the garage, the gunshot. Wait, the garage door was open. The sound downstairs
and the gunshot—there must’ve been more than one. Those eyes, so familiar. As we turned into
my neighborhood, I saw my house. The police had all left, wait, there was one unmarked car
just about half a block up the street, or at least it looked as if it could be a cop. “Do you think
that…” “Yes, they were here earlier. We should’ve called when we left the hospital.” I wasn’t
sure what Tom was thinking, but that was neither here nor there. As we wheeled into the
driveway, I was watching the car up the street, no activity; they weren’t getting out or anything.
Well, I've decided what to do now. Out of the car and walking up the path to find my front door, it
hit me, how did these people get into my house? “Tom, let’s check all the exterior doors and
windows for a sign of entry. How did they get in?” Hell, I had motion detectors and all sorts of
crap. Last year, some young guy came out and sold me the whole shebang, told me it was
impossible to circumvent. “Here they come, Luke.” The unmarked car slowly proceeded from
their spot up the street toward us. Great, I really didn’t care to talk to these guys right now.
It was a muggy and dreary night, not quite raining, but humid enough that the roadway was
damp, and the windshield occasionally required the wipers. Sam, behind the wheel, was cool
and calm, focused on the last task at hand, getting the bounty to the bank. Just a few more
miles, he thought to himself. Vanessa, on the other hand, was much more wound up. Sitting in the back of the van, she was crouching over the incapacitated woman like a lioness over her
freshly killed prey, guarding it admiringly. Vanessa stared at her with a maniacal gaze as she
smoked her Marlboro Reds. “Here we are, just right up this path,” Sam informed Vanessa,
knowing she was dying to get out of the van and get her prey into its cage. He felt very much
the same, however, for totally different reasons. “Vanessa, you’re not to injure this woman in any
way. She must be alive and able.” Vanessa mulled these words over in her head, considering
his words and choosing hers carefully. “You’re no fun, Sam!” she said. “I promise not to break
any bones.” With a fiendish smirk on her face, she extinguished her cigarette on the sleeping
woman’s arm. The smell of burning flesh floated throughout the van, up to Sam. Yes, you’ll do
just fine, Sam thought of Vanessa, as long as she didn’t go too far. On the horizon, a large,
log-type cabin appeared, two stories, a nice-looking place. As they neared, the beauty of the
place unfolded. Vanessa, now moved up to the front seat, admired her new residence with awe.
So this is it, this is it! A large pond glistened in the sun off to the right of the abode. Surrounded
by trees and wilderness, the cabin was serene. “Let’s get her inside; she may be awake any
moment,” said Sam, opening his door and stepping out onto the damp ground. Vanessa, already
out of the van with the side door open, was almost salivating over the woman curled up on the
floor of the van. Sam, walking around the front of the van, shook his head as he saw Vanessa.
She was enjoying this too much. Oh well, as long as the woman could still stand, that’s all that
mattered. Sam dragged her to the door of the van and threw her over his shoulder. “Get the
door, Vanessa, then pull around the back of the house.” She nodded in acknowledgment, ran
ahead, and opened the front door, saying to Sam as he passed, “Don’t do anything without me.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll save all the fun for you. I’ve got plenty to do, she’s all yours.” 1 reply
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