Chapter 10

        “Get on your knees!”

        “You’ll have to shoot me detective, or if you lack the mettle, perhaps I’ll do it for you.”

        “Put the gun down, get on your knees and put your hands on your head, now!”

        He smiled at me and the rest of the officers and federal agents that surrounded him.  His name was George Nelson, he was the Burner, a serial killer we had been after for the past three months.  He was an ex-assassin for the C.I.A.  They had neglected to inform us that a former assassin and ex-patriot had recently gone off the charts after arriving in New York about a year ago.  We were able to figure out where to look after a conversation I had with another serial killer, Johnny Sikow.  Johnny had given me some things to think about, things only a serial killer would think of.

        We found Nelson’s profile quickly.  He was even easier to find after that.  Nelson had not even been using an alias, so we were able to get his current address and even triangulate his cell phone.  Finding him was the easy part.  Now that we had him, the s**t was ready to hit the fan and the situation was only going to get more intense unless something happened soon.  Somebody had to bring this guy down.

        The son of a b***h kept smiling at me.  He knew I wanted him alive, but he wasn’t going to let me do that.  Then showing just how quickly he could kill someone, he redirects his gun from his head and kills one of the officers then immediately has the gun back to his own head.  He was quicker than I had imagined.

        “Damn it Nelson, just give it up man,” I yelled at him as other officers tried to take the fallen officer to a safe point, but they already know, we all know, the man is dead.

        “Did you like that Detective?  That was nothing, watch this.”

        “No!” I started to shout but he’d already downed at least three men.  It was so quick I didn’t know if any of them were alive or just wounded.

        “Fox…Detective Fox…Come in…,” the radio screeched.  “Orders are now to take the suspect down.”

        I looked at my radio and looked at Nelson and knew what needed to be done.

        “All officers, get the suspect in sight and on my command open fire.”

        Screeching, “All of us sir?”

        “Every f*****g one of you.  The suspect is too good to be shot at from only one direction by one officer, everyman needs to shoot at the same time and pray that the suspect doesn’t focus on any specific officer.  It’s pretty clear what he’s capable of.”

        Silence then confirmations come in.  I double check that everyone is in position and then give the command.

        “Open fire…Now!”

        Nelson’s face went through a rapid change, almost as quick as his trigger finger.  His smile evaporated as he realized he was being fired at from every direction.  He did exactly what I feared and focused on a specific officer, me.  No one believed me the first time I told it so I didn’t tell it many times after, but what happened was something amazing.  As he fired at me, I fired a second shot that hit his bullet.  He was dead before our bullets dropped to the ground.  The arrogant b*****d only wasted a single bullet on me.  I don’t know how I was able to pull off that shot but I did and it saved my life.

        

        Nelson was a psychotic, that much was obvious when we stepped into his apartment.  The place was a gaunt, frightening place covered with anti-American propaganda, newspaper clippings of his and other serial killers’ exploits, and books.  Hundreds of books that ranged from myth and fairy tales to conspiracy theory books.  There were books on all kinds of military weapons, many of which had notes scribbled by Nelson that could be a kudos or a critic and even some sickening stories about how he’d used some of the weapons.  

        Nelson kept no journal or anything that might explain his actions in some kind of rational form.  It’s doubtful there would even be a rational explanation as to why Nelson had gone AWOL besides from his obvious disapproval of the so called decline of America.  I had to get away from all this.  The serial killers were pushing me to a point I did not want to go.

        I had killed men before in the line of duty.  I couldn’t understand the pleasure these people got out of taking the life of another.  Every person I had every killed or given orders to kill had been a horrible excuse for a human being, but they were still human beings.  What right did I have to kill these people?  I didn’t want to be God.  I wanted to try and make the world a better place, but the more I tried it seemed like the world was only getting darker and scarier.  The world was changing and unfortunately so was I.  I had no choice.  All I could do was keep trying.  But at some point I had to ask, What’s the point?

        I was asleep when I heard someone knocking on my door.  I sat up and realized I’d fallen asleep in front in front of the television again.  It was a rare thing for me to actually make it to bed anymore.  I looked at the time when the knocking continued, three a.m., never a good time.  As I got up to go look out and see who was at the door I was struck by a fear.  Could this be yet another serial killer come to take my life?  Was this the one that would do the job the others seemed to be unable or unwilling to do?  I was no longer a young man who had no fear of death.  I was a middle age man who faced death every day and feared him more than anything.

        As I looked out the peephole on my door, my surprise was overwhelming.  Outside was a young woman who looked scared and cold.  I opened the door and stared at her perplexed as to who she was and what she wanted.  She was very pretty, raven haired, milky brown eyes, a slight tan and very petite.  Her stance spoke a thousand words.  This girl was scared.  Of what, I didn’t know.

        “Can I help you?” I asked slowly.

        “Detective Fox?”

        “Yes…”

        “I guess you don’t remember me, but I tried helping you when Johnny killed the kids at our school.”

        Immediately I remembered her, “Brooke.”

        A slight smile touched her lips, “Yeah…can I come inside?”

        “Um, sure, yeah come in.”

        “I don’t mean to intrude or anything.”

        “It’s fine Brooke, what can I do for you?”

        “It’s Johnny, Detective.  I’m scared of him, I’m scared he’s going to come finish the job he started at our school.”

        I was slightly taken aback at this, “Brooke I thought Johnny was done with the people from your school.”

        “I’ve just been studying the case Detective and what bothers me is where he keeps striking.  He’s never actually left the state and he’s never come back to our town, it’s almost like he’s avoiding it or saving it for a rainy day.”

        I had to think about that statement then go over to my desk to see for myself.  She was right.  It always seemed like Johnny kept leading me to different states and getting farther and then coming back a little or at least moving in circles.  He was really just moving in random patterns around the state but avoiding his hometown.  It was disturbing in a way and I could now see that Brooke had every reason to be frightened.

        “How long have you noticed this?” I had to ask.

        “A couple of weeks I guess.”

        “Do you think it means anything?”

        “I don’t know, you’re the one in charge of finding him, not me.”

        I sighed.  I really was too tired and exhausted of the whole case at this point.  I wasn’t sure how much more I could honestly take.

        “Look, I’m sorry for coming here, it was stupid but Johnny scares the s**t out of me, I’ve read those blogs he’s written about all the horrible s**t he’s done and the other day he released that video talking about the serial killer he’d killed.  It’s pretty disturbing that everything started at that high school and sometimes it feels like that’s where it might all end too.”

        I snapped a look at her, “What do you mean?”

        “I mean he’s not coming anywhere near our hometown whether that’s deliberate or a mental block that’s keeping him away, it feels like he’ll come back eventually and some bad s**t’s gonna go down when he does.”

        “Brooke, there’s a good chance Johnny will never return and even if he did what makes you think he’d go after you?  I still don’t understand why you think he’d want to hurt you.”

        “It’s not just me, it’s everyone, he’ll kill us all!”

        I couldn’t think of anything to say that would comfort her.  What do you tell a teenage girl who has seen horrible things and knows personally the person who committed them?

        “Brooke,” I said slowly, “if you need anything come and talk to me and I’ll do what I can.  Okay?”

        She looked at me for a minute then said, “Okay.”

        I gave her a shot of Jack Daniels and sent her home.  I couldn’t go back to sleep after that.  Then I made a decision I never thought I’d make.

        “You sure about this, Fox?”

        “Yes sir I am.”

        The Director sighed and looked down at his empty desk, “Do you know where you’re going to go?”

        “I have a rough idea sir, but I think telling you would make this sabbatical a little pointless.”

        He laughed humorlessly, “I suppose you’ve got a point there.  God knows we’d only be calling you everyday asking when you’re coming back.”

        I smiled the same sad smile he had on his face, “I need to do this, sir.  I wish it was at a better time, but I’m not sure how much longer I can take with all of this.”

        “It’s Sikow isn’t it?”

        “Ha.  Do you really need to ask sir?”

        “Heh, I guess not.  Well Fox I wish you the best of luck and hope you’ll come back soon and better than ever.”

        “Thank you sir, I hope I come back too.”

        “Brooke?”

        “Dr. Fox?  What are you doing here?”

        “I’ve decided to wait it out here.  If your theory that Johnny will eventually make his way back here is correct then this is the place I need to be, not behind a desk scrambling to clean up the messes he leaves behind him.  I need to be where he will be and be ready to strike first.”

        She laughed a little, “Well I suppose I feel a little better then.”

        “I’ll be staying at the motel across town, number 13.  Come talk to me if you need anything.”

        “Thanks, I will.  What are you going to be doing while you’re here, other than waiting I mean?”

        I looked at her for a minute trying to figure out my response, “I suppose trying to keep my sanity.”

        I tried to figure things out from the motel room.  I rarely left except to get food or books from the library.  But for the most part I kept to myself.  Brooke came by a few times but not a lot, we talked about our fears of Johnny and did we think we’d make it out if he came back.  I honestly didn’t expect to live through my next encounter with Johnny.  It seemed like the first time we met, he let me go out of respect, but the next time one of us was going to die.

        I believed Johnny when he said there was no way he’d ever go to real prison.  He would spend his life in a sanitarium, if he chose to stay there that is.  I felt like I knew Johnny pretty well.  He only let things happen if he wanted them to.  Otherwise they didn’t happen.  I feared Johnny.  He was death to me.  No one ever scared me before, but the more I got to know Johnny, or at least my idea of him the more I feared him.

        Maybe that was why Johnny was so frightening.  Maybe it wasn’t really the man, but the idea he invoked in people’s minds.  I know he affected me that way but could that have been the only reason? No, no he was the real deal.  Everything that you could fear he’d do, he could and would do it.

        Johnny was not some kind of boogeyman.  Johnny Sikow was the possibly the most frightening human being ever.  It was that unpredictable nature that he showed.  I think what scared the s**t out of me about Johnny was that he was an emotional human being.  He was not the emotionless monster you wanted him to be.  Johnny was rational and meticulous when it came to murder and he never thought twice once he made the choice to kill.

        This was truly a dangerous person and my job was to catch him.  No.  Not catch him, kill him.  One of us would die the next time we met.  I could only hope it would be me.  The truth was much scarier.  I’d never callously killed anyone before.  Could I kill someone at the drop of a hat?  If I could, what did that say about me?  These are the things I thought about as I waited to see if Johnny would return home.

        If he did I knew it would be because something had truly broken him.  If Johnny came home, it would be the beginning of the end.  I just couldn’t think of what exactly would drive him to the violent end we all knew it would eventually become.