EIGHT
Erin awoke to the sound of chattering teeth. It took her a second to realize she was the one making the noise. She wondered how long she’d dozed off for. She was freezing, and it was pitch-dark.
As her gaze darted around the cell, she rubbed the chill from her arms. “Garrett?”
No answer.
Pushing herself to her feet, she hoped her eyes would adjust to the dark. No such luck. She held both arms straight and stiff in front of her like a mummy in an old black-and-white movie and walked slowly across the small space. A few seconds passed before her hand came into contact with something cold and fleshy. She yanked her arm back. “Garrett,” she said again. “Is that you?”
Still no answer.
She swallowed as she reached out again and forced herself to touch whatever it was in front of her. It was definitely a human form, bony, skeletal. She held back a cry. Standing on the tips of her toes, she felt the cloth around his neck, and realized then what he’d been doing with the backpack. He’d spent hours ripping it to shreds. She’d thought he’d wanted to ruin something that belonged to the man upstairs. But she’d been wrong. Garrett had seen the backpack as his chance out of here once and for all. He’d made a rope and noose to hang himself with.
She held his wrist, felt for a pulse, but there was none.
Her stomach tightened as a sharp pain gripped her heart and squeezed.
Garrett was dead. And now she was alone with a dead man.
Her heart raced as she grabbed hold of the bars and shook them. “Let me out! I want out!”
Unable to stop the tears from coming, she crawled back to where she’d been sitting before, got down on all fours, and felt around for the pile of things she’d collected. Her mind raced as she pulled the pen apart and then hid the coins under a pile of straw.
Calm down, she told herself. You need to think. Think. Think.
She’d already eaten the granola bar and now wished she’d saved half of it for later. She would ration the water. Before she had time to plan beyond that, the door at the top of the stairs creaked open, shedding a thick stream of light across the room.
She could see Garrett now. His face was swollen and black, and he seemed to be looking right at her. She clutched her stomach as she looked away.
Footsteps sounded, prompting her to reach out and grab the Taser. Her hands shook as she held it in front of her, her thumb ready to flip the switch when the time came.
A match ignited. The oil lamps were lit, providing a soft glow.
“Oh, would you look at that,” he said, walking toward Garrett so he could take a closer look.
Don’t judge a book by its cover was the first thing that had gone through Erin’s mind when she’d awoken in the cell yesterday. She guessed her captor to be in his early thirties. He was clean-cut and newly shaved, just as he’d been when he’d offered her a ride. He was well spoken, too, and he had a nice smile. Nothing about him had set off alarms.
But now she knew better.
From outside the cell, he was touching Garrett, poking and prodding. Was he making sure he was dead? Or was he having fun with him even in death? The thought horrified her.
Although Garrett wasn’t facing him, he reached through the bars, put a finger to Garrett’s lips, and wagged his finger back and forth, making a hollow popping sound emit from Garrett’s mouth.
She held her breath.
He pulled his hand back through the bars, never taking his gaze from hers—a cold, hard stare. If there was a devil, he was it. “Such a shame,” he said. “I was going to attach electrodes to his testicles and shock him.”
Erin stiffened as she stared back at him, unblinking.
He pressed his face up close to the bars. “You would have loved it.”
Hoping to provoke him, she growled at him. “You’re a monster. A bloody monster.”
He frowned.
Come and get me, asshole. She needed to piss him off enough to get him to come inside so she could Taser him and then make a run for it. There was no way he was getting his weapon back without a fight.
“I like you,” he said. “You have spirit.”
“You are a disgusting pig.”
He smiled.
She couldn’t get over the fact that he looked like a regular guy. His light-colored hair was cut close around his ears. His bangs swept across a high forehead. Just a regular-looking guy. Had she seen him on the street, she never would have given him a second look. He could have been a professor or a grocery clerk. Nothing about him stood out.
“I can make you do anything I want.” He smiled. “Anything.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oooh. A nasty girl with a foul mouth.” He made a slurping noise and then said, “Intoxicating.”
She recalled Garrett telling her to do whatever the freak told her to do because otherwise he would get angry. And there was no telling what he would do if he was angry.
Well, she wanted to find out. Better to anger him quickly, she thought, and possibly catch him off guard. Besides, the nine-volt battery in the Taser wouldn’t last forever.
“Are you the Heartless Killer?” she asked.
“What if I am?”
She shrugged as if it didn’t make a difference one way or another. But it did matter. If he was the Heartless Killer, then that would mean he would never let her go, especially now that she could identify him.
“Everyone is talking about you,” she said after a short pause. It was true. Parents had been worrying and lecturing their kids about the serial killer on the loose for years now. Mostly they said to stay alert, never walk home alone, and, of course, don’t talk to strangers. Until she’d been brought here, though, it had been white noise. The man standing before her had been like an old folks’ tale or the bogeyman under the bed. A bad guy nobody ever thought much about until another body was found. She remembered a friend telling her that the killer chose his victims at random, taking multiple victims before disappearing for months. They called him the Heartless Killer, but she had no idea why.
“Have you watched the news lately or read the paper?” she asked when he didn’t respond. He just stood there staring at her, creeping her out, which meant he was winning. “I’ve read about the things your whore of a mother did to you,” she lied. “No wonder you’re a little messed up in the head.”
His jaw twitched. That was a good sign. She needed him to lose control and hopefully enter her cell, where she would have the upper hand.
“You need to shut that dirty mouth of yours,” he told her, “or I’ll make you eat crow. Literally.”
Erin had never personally read one word about him. She had no clue what police investigators were saying, since she’d never cared one way or another.
She cared now.
The good news was she’d obviously triggered his anger, so she stuck with it. “I read that your slut of a mother forced you to take showers with her so you could soap her up real good and make her moan with pleasure.”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a key.
Come on. Come on. Her gaze kept landing on Garrett. She hoped the weirdo didn’t leave him hanging there. No one should have to die like that. Tortured for months in a cold, dank cell in some creepy man’s basement.
Focus, she reminded herself as he unlocked the door. “You don’t even know who your father is, do you? Is it the postman? Or maybe it’s your next-door neighbor.”
The door clanged open. He stepped inside. Smiling now, he ignored her verbal jabs as he approached. Two feet away from her, he stopped and stared. And then, without warning, he lunged, baring his teeth and curling his hands into claws as he came at her.
She’d expected as much and jumped to the side.
He jerked to the right. She moved to the left.
He went left. She went right.
His eyes were bright. It took her a second to realize he was in his element, toying with her, having fun. The second he stepped close enough, she jumped forward and jabbed the prongs into his chest. She held tight, giving him a good long jolt.
He cried out as he fell to the ground, his arms and legs flailing.
She had no choice but to hop over him, and when she did he grabbed hold of her ankle and yanked her to the ground. The Taser flew from her hands, breaking into pieces.
He was laughing, his body no longer twitching. How could that be?
She kicked and screamed, then reached around for his face and jammed her thumb into his eye.
He cursed and let go.
She jumped to her feet and scrambled through the cell door. She got as far as the bottom step before he grabbed her leg and she fell. Her chin hit the stair, sending a searing pain through her skull.
“Nice try,” he said as he dragged her back to the cell. “You obviously know nothing about me. Because if you did, you would know I used to dream of being a Boy Scout someday. The Boy Scouts of America is one of the largest scouting organizations in the US. Be prepared!” He laughed. “Always be in a state of readiness in mind and body to do your duty!”
Once they were inside the cell again, he released his hold on one of her legs so he could lift his shirt and reveal another layer of fabric.
“It’s polyester,” he said. “A special fabric neutralizes any stun-gun jolt. Works every time. Prisoner has my Taser and thinks he has the upper hand.” He laughed as if that was the funniest thing ever.
Her heart raced. He was insane. She realized that this might be her last chance to get free. Before he reached for her leg again, she drew it back and slammed her foot into his shin.
He cried out and stumbled backward, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was prepared. Before she could get past him, he pulled a small canister from his waistband and sprayed her in the face.
Her eyes burned. The pain was intense.
He pushed her to the ground.
Get out of here, she told herself. Get out now! On hands and knees, she scurried back to where she’d left her pile of makeshift weapons. The granola wrapper crunched beneath her fingers.
Again his long, cold fingers grasped her ankles before he dragged her from the cell.
No. No. No! She reached out blindly in front of her, arms stretching, fingers searching. The pen. Where was the pen? Her hand passed over the coins.
“It’s time for you to take a time-out in the box.”