on her Garmin. It was a personal record. Four miles in thirty-one minutes. She leaned up against the street sign to catch her breath and celebrate her victory. She was just about to begin that long jog back down Tropicana when that same black BMW she had spotted out of the corner of her eye stopped at the corner. An alarm went off in her head too late to escape as the car door opened and Dale stepped out of the BMW aiming a pistol at Sarah’s head.
“Get in the car.”
Sarah looked down Tropicana Boulevard and considered running. The street was packed with traffic. She could take a chance and hope that Dale wouldn’t shoot her in front of so many witnesses. Then she remembered that he was already wanted by the police. There was no longer any need for him to be discreet. If she ran maybe a police car would happen by before he could catch her again. Maybe someone would stop their car and help her. Dale was already coming around the car toward her. It was too late now. He had the gun pointed at her face now.
“If you run I will shoot you dead. Now get in the car.”
He opened the car door and grabbed Sarah by the arm, dragging her inside. Sarah began to scream and punch at Dale. There was blood leaking from Dale’s head and Sarah tried to aim a punch at the wound. Someone shouted something at Dale from a passing car and Sarah hoped that they would call the police, that someone would save her before he got her alone. Sarah felt Dale crack her over the head with the pistol and her legs wobbled. She was thrown into the car and the door was slammed shut behind her. Dale ran around the car and Sarah tried to reach up and lock the door before he could open it. Dale ripped open the door and pushed her back into her seat. He shoved the pistol into her ribs and pulled the BMW back out into traffic.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t know. Shut up. Don’t talk.”
There was a desperation to Dale’s movement that Sarah hadn’t noticed before. This was not the careful, meticulous killer who had bathed her and her husband after murdering them both, washed her sheets, and scrubbed the walls and floor. The impulsive madman who had just snatched her off a busy street in the middle of rush hour was an entirely different breed of killer. Something had changed him.
“You could have gotten away. The police let you go. They didn’t have anything on you. Why did you come back?”
“I said shut the fuck up!” Dale slapped her and Sarah’s head spun.
Sarah knew that she was going to be raped and tortured no matter what she did. There was nothing he could threaten her with. No matter what she did the pain would be the same.
“Why me? You could have any woman you wanted, a woman of your own who would love you. I’m married. Why do you want me?”
Dale turned quickly and Sarah braced for another blow but instead he gritted his teeth and answered her question. His face was twisted in anger and some deep emotional pain.
“Any woman? Is that what you think? I can have any woman? Women hate me. My own mother hated me. This is the only way I have ever gotten anyone to pay attention to me. That’s why God gave me this power, so I wouldn’t be alone, so I could make whores like you love me without violating his law. Thou shalt not kill. I can bring them back.”
Dale smiled smugly, proudly.
“But the Bible also says, ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.’ I’m married. I have a husband. You’re sinning right now, Dale. You’ve been sinning all along. You have to let me go and turn yourself in. You need help.” Sarah was trying her best to control her panic. Tears were streaming from her eyes.
“It doesn’t matter. God will forgive me. He knows what I feel.”
“What do you feel, Dale?”
Dale’s face twitched. He licked his lips and stared straight ahead through the windshield, avoiding Sarah’s inquisitive eyes.
“Do you love me, Dale? Do you think you actually love me? This isn’t love. You don’t hurt the people you love. This is sick. This is twisted and evil.”
“You have to be quiet now.”
“I want to know, Dale. I want you to tell me what you think you feel for me.”
“I loved my mother. She was the first person I ever brought back to life. My dad murdered her right in front of me. But I brought her back. She hated me ever since. She hated what I could do. She kept trying to kill herself and I kept bringing her back. Then she tried to kill me, beat me to death with a hammer. I mean, she tried to. She tried again on the day she died. She poured gasoline all over herself and burned herself up. She tried to take me with her. She poured gasoline outside my bedroom door while I was sleeping and set it and herself on fire.” He turned to look at Sarah again; his face was a riot of twitches and tics as he struggled to suppress his pain. “That’s it. No more talking now. I’ll shoot you if I have to. I can always bring you back. But no more talking.”
This time Sarah listened. She recognized the neighborhood as they pulled up to the gate. She even knew the code on the keypad. One, two, four, three. He was taking her home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“How do you see this ending, Dale? You see us being together forever or are you just going to fuck me one last time and run?”
Sarah was trying to get under his skin. She wanted to ruin whatever sick fantasy was driving him. Take away any satisfaction she could from what he was about to do to her. He seemed to be coming unhinged. Nothing about what he was doing made any sense. He had taken her back to her own house to do what? Rape her? And then what?
“Shut the fuck up and get out of the car.”
“You haven’t thought about it, have you? You’re just making this all up as you go, aren’t you? What are you going to do? The cops will be looking for me. They’ll put you in prison. Then you’ll be the one getting raped every night. You’ll be the one waking up screaming.”
“Get the fuck in the house!”
He grabbed her by the hair and shoved the barrel of the Glock against her temple. Sarah walked with him to her front door, knowing that she was in for unfathomable pain once that door shut behind her. She considered trying to fight him, forcing Dale to kill her now before he could hurt her, but that would only stall the pain. He would just drag her back into the house, revive her, and torture and rape her anyway. She stepped through the door into her home, hoping that someone would find her before Dale could hurt her.
Dale took her up to her own bedroom and pushed her down on the bed. The mattress seethed beneath her, crawling with thousands of maggots and flies. The entire room smelled like death and madness.
“You’ve never had a real woman, have you, Dale?”
Dale clamped his hands over his ears and winced. Blood trickled down his face from the wound in his head, which had started to bleed again. He wiped it away quickly. He squinted and swayed a little. For a moment, Sarah thought he was about to faint or perhaps even die on the spot. She rose from the bed.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get back on the bed!”
He pointed the gun at her and for a moment Sarah thought he was going to pull the trigger. Then he winced and grabbed his head with his left hand, still pointing the gun at her with the right. Blood was seeping from the wound and trickling down his forehead steadily now. He blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the blood out of his eye.
“I’m getting ready for you, Dale. You can’t fuck me if I’m fully dressed. Isn’t this what you wanted? You don’t have to rape me. I’ll let you have whatever you want. Maybe I’ll even rape you.”
She reached out for his belt buckle and he pulled away from her. She guessed he probably couldn’t get it up with a woman he hadn’t tortured and abused. That was part of his ritual, his fantasy. A willing victim ruined the fantasy for him.
“Come on, don’t you want to cum on my tits? Isn’t that what you told the detectives you wanted to do to me? Here I am, Dale. Let’s fuck!”
She reached out for him again and he pulled away again.
“Stop that! Not like that. Get back on the bed.”
