Lance Berkshire had a much stronger stomach, but a much softer heart. He handed the scalpel over to Harry, then realized it really wasn’t necessary in the case of Carl Dent. His torso had a square hole cut into the centre of it, revealing cracked bones and a barrage of vital organs. “This time the killer took lungs, heart, intestinal tracks.... geez.”
“Yeah, I know, Lance. I’ve been afraid to let my kids outside the house at all, let alone at night.” He took a small pause before returning to business. “Serial killer?”
“That’d be my best guess. I hear the police are exercising the possibility of gang and cult killings.”
“God, what is wrong with this world,” he murmured, but it wasn’t a question so much as a general statement towards the plight of their town.
“It was definitely the same guy though. He took the lungs he didn’t get the first time. Also the heart, small and large intestines...”
“Anything our creep hasn’t got yet?”
“Well, muscle tissue, brain matter... he got kidneys and livers from the old couple...”
“Why? Wouldn’t he want a younger one?”
“It appears our Mr. Dent had a bit of a drinking problem. But there’s something even stranger.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“In every case, even that poor kid who wasn’t killed... the appendixes were completely removed. But in the first case it was smooth, cut edges. Like one of us did it. This time... it’s like it was done in anger.”
6:00.
Dusk.
Tim parted two sections of his venetian blind and peered out into the street, making striped shadows across his face. The body count was now four, with a possibility of it rising within the next eight hours. He let the blinds fall back into place and paced back to his desk. On it were Carl Dent’s files, both those he kept at the precinct and those found scattered near the murder scene. The only lead or suspect that actually made any sense at all was the Xander Drew file. A dark loner of a kid who hung around with the same people all of the time. It fit, but it wasn’t enough to put anything on the kid. There were probably a hundred kids like that in this city. But then Dent went to that Grendel kid and that pushed the focus of this case in Dent’s favor. And now Dent’s dead, but that may help the case, god forgive me for thinking it. All they needed now was something solid. Some actual evidence...
“Sir?” the skinny blonde secretary called out, popping in her head from outside the door.
“Yes, Felicia. What is it?”
“There’s a young girl here. I believe Carl Dent questioned her briefly in the hospital. She says she has some information which may be helpful. I think her name is Johnson.”
“Send her in.”
Darkness covered Coral Beach that night. And when it came, the city closed its doors. Roadblocks were set up. Police were even borrowed from nearby towns to patrol the streets, which were like vacant lots, giving the entire town a ghostly tranquility. Everything was silent and still.
The only place still open was, naturally, the Factory.
The musicians had gone home and many of its workers wouldn’t have stayed there for a million dollars, but the four owners and three of the customers still remained. Sud, Tommy and Derek.
Sud sat on the pool table opposite the one that Tommy and Derek were playing at. Derek leaned over the table and easily sank the eight ball into the corner pocket.
“Damn man. How’d you learn to play like that?” Tommy chided, shaking his head as he looked at the massive amount of balls he still had on the table.
“I just learned. That’s all,” Derek shrugged.
“You going to Gren’s party tomorrow night?”
“Who isn’t? Something tells me it’s gonna be a wild time.”
“Yeah,” Sud grunted in agreement.
“Alright boys,” Roxanne, one of the ladies that owned the Factory, called out from behind a desk. “We’re closin’ down. Pack it up and get out.”
The three of them grabbed their coats from the rack and started out the door. They all lived in opposite directions. Derek was right across the street from the Factory, so they walked him to his door.
“You guys could come in a while if you wanted,” Derek offered. “Call your ‘rents, ask them to come and pick you up.”
“Naw, man,” Tommy shrugged. “We’ll be fine.”
Sud nodded in agreement.
“You sure?” Derek pushed, taking a quick glance around the street. “It’s not safe out there, man.”
Tommy just chuckled a little at that. “I don’t think there’s anybody stupid enough to try to take on us... not even lil’ Xander Drew.”
Sud laughed, but it seemed forced.
Derek smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Take it easy, boys.”
“You too,” Tommy said, as the duo started walking home.
The street was cold. It wasn’t winter yet by any means, but Tommy had noticed that ever since school started the temperature around town had become a fickle thing - warm one moment and then freezing cold the next.
The cold left an odd crispness on the street they walked on, like stepping into one of those walk-in freezers in the back of a restaurant. It sent sparks of life up through his calves and created swirls of dancing white mist that could only been seen in the direct light of the street lamps.
The rest of the street was covered in a sort of soft stillness. It felt like he imagined the inside of a snow globe would feel between shakes.
All of the storefronts were closed and the street was deserted, so much so that neither of them had ever seen the like before.
