Anatomy of Evil (18 page)

Part Six

The Devil's Scream

Chapter Thirty

Kelly grabbed her clothes and got dressed in a flurry of motion. She yanked off her hospital gown, threw it aside and pulled on her street clothes. “I can't stay here. I have to go. I have to be with Christina.”

Emma and Jake pleaded with her.

“Kelly slow down,” said Emma. “We need to call somebody for help. This is dangerous.”

“No,” said Kelly. “Rodney means what he says. He'll kill her if we call for help.”

“But you can't go there alone,” said Jake. “They'll kill you.”

“We should get the nurse,” Emma told Jake.

Kelly shouted, “Don't call the nurse! I'm leaving. That's all there is to it.”

Jake reached out for Kelly and she pulled back, avoiding his grasp. “Kelly, be reasonable,” he said. “You're not well. You're still recovering.”

“I need to be with my daughter,” said Kelly. “I need to be with my parents.”

“Kelly, please think this through,” said Emma.

“I have,” Kelly responded. Then she scrambled past them for the corridor.

“Dammit!” said Jake, and he quickly followed with Emma close behind.

Kelly weaved through the obstacles in her way: medical staff, hospital patients, visiting relatives, gurneys and laundry carts. She reached the elevator and pounded on the down arrow. When the elevator arrived, Jake and Emma had caught up with her and the three of them rode down together.

“Let's talk about this,” said Jake. “Just stop and talk.”

“There's no time to talk,” said Kelly.

When the elevator opened, Kelly hurried down another busy corridor to reach the front lobby. She exited through the electric sliding doors, entering the bright afternoon sunshine.

Emma and Jake caught up with Kelly on the curb, where she stood, momentarily paralyzed.

Thick traffic rumbled in front of her. She eyed the multi-story parking garage across the street.

“Where's my car?” she said.

“Your car isn't here,” said Emma. “You were brought here by ambulance.”

“You're not going anywhere,” said Jake in a gentle voice. “So, please, let's go back inside and think this through.”

Kelly's shoulders slumped. She nodded. Slowly, she turned back to face the hospital entrance. Jake and Emma turned with her.

Within a few feet of the hospital entrance, Kelly lunged at Emma. She grabbed Emma's purse and pulled it from her arm. Then she turned and ran.

“What the hell!?” said Emma.

Jake spun around to witness Kelly running into the street with the purse. Cars screeched and swerved to avoid her. Drivers blasted their horns.

“Son of a bitch!” shouted Jake, and he took off after her.

A huge bus filled Jake's path, stopping his momentum. Emma caught up with him. “What the hell is she—?”

“I don't know.”

Running into the parking garage, Kelly reached inside the purse. She pulled out Emma's car keys. She began pressing the red button on the keychain, listening for a response from Emma's SUV.

Not hearing one, Kelly dashed into the elevator. She lit up the panel of buttons for a stop at every floor until she found what she was looking for.

The doors opened on the second floor and Kelly reached out and clicked the keychain button repeatedly—hearing nothing in return.

She advanced to the third floor. The doors opened and she stepped halfway out, thrust the keychain forward and clicked the button over and over, moving her arm in a sweeping arc at the rows of vehicles before her.

Then she heard it—two high-pitched beeps.

Emma's SUV.

Kelly jumped out of the elevator just before the doors shut. She ran in the direction of the sound.

Kelly found the SUV parked halfway down the aisle, lights blinking.

Behind her, loud footsteps pounded the concrete, echoing through the garage like gunshots. Kelly turned to see Jake sprinting toward her with Emma limping to keep up.

“Sorry!” said Kelly. She kept the car keys and tossed the purse in their direction. She climbed into the SUV and quickly started up the engine.

Jake reached the SUV as Kelly was backing up. He scrambled to grasp a door handle.

Kelly accelerated away from him. She reversed into a pillar, striking it with a loud crunch.

Emma picked up her purse from the ground. She joined Jake in trying to stop the vehicle from getting away.

As Kelly shifted gears to move forward, Emma opened the SUV's rear passenger door and climbed inside.

“Stop the car!” she yelled at Kelly.

Kelly drove into the center of the aisle and began picking up speed. Jake ran at the car and reached the open door. He grabbed a shoulder strap and pulled himself inside, joining Emma.

Kelly accelerated the car through a rapid succession of screeching turns, rotating through the layers of down ramps to ground level.

“This is crazy,” said Jake, catching his breath in the back seat.

Kelly reached the exit, blocked from the street by the outstretched gate of a toll booth.

“Please don't—” said Emma.

Kelly crashed through the gate, sending the wood board flying through the air.

The SUV made a sharp turn and barreled down the street. Jake reached over and slammed his door shut.

“I guess we're not changing your mind,” he said.

“It's about my daughter,” said Kelly. “I'll let you out at the next light.”

Jake sighed. “No,” he said. “If you go, we go. It's not just Christina and Rodney. It's Carol. It's Gary. It's Sam. We're all in this together.”

Emma nodded. “The three of us are the ones who really know them.”

Kelly began following the signs for the highway. “Thanks for letting me borrow your car,” she said to Emma.

Emma smiled, barely. “Any time.”

The roadside scenery transformed around them. The city became suburbs and the suburbs became countryside as Kelly sped the SUV along the familiar route to her parents' downstate farm in Cody, Illinois. The afternoon sun struggled against the advancement of a thin layer of clouds, dimming the light.

Returning to her hometown, she stopped short of her parents' property, pulling over on the side of the road at a neighboring farm.

“Let's park here,” said Kelly. “I know this area like the back of my hand. It's where I grew up. There's a path we can take…through the cornfields…to get a good look without being seen.”

“I don't feel good about this,” said Jake. “We're completely unarmed.”

“We're not here to fight,” said Kelly.

“Still, what if something happens and we need to defend ourselves? We didn't think this through. Dammit, Kelly, you were in such a mad rush to get here…”

“Let's just get out,” said Emma. They climbed out of the car. Jake paced, surveying the scene around them.

An occasional wind rippled through the crops, disrupting an otherwise picture-perfect stillness.

“You really did grow up in the middle of nowhere,” said Emma.

“To me, this was everything,” said Kelly. “It took me years to adjust to the city. The city was all Rodney knew…” Then she dipped her head, saddened by mentioning his name, as if referring to someone who was now deceased.

“Well, it isn't much, but at least it's something,” said Jake, circling from the rear of the SUV. “I found this.”

He held out a tire iron.

Emma sighed. “Great. You can change their tires.”

“It's better than nothing.”

“Follow me,” said Kelly. She moved up the road until she found the opening she remembered from her youth. “This is it. Here's the path.”

The threesome advanced quietly through the full-sized cornstalks that towered around them, unable to see much else.

“I hope you know where you're going,” said Jake.

“I do,” said Kelly.

After ten minutes of walking, the cornfield ended, and they stepped into lush, green rows of soybeans. Just ahead in the distance, a farmhouse with a red barn and silo sat on the horizon.

“My home,” said Kelly softly.

“Should we keep going?” asked Ellen.

“I don't see anyone,” said Jake. “Let's keep moving, but stay low.”

Kelly, Jake and Emma stepped through a narrow dirt path between rows of soybeans. As they approached the house, more of the surrounding property came into view. An old swingset produced a slow, rhythmic squeak as its single swing moved gently in the wind. Kelly's eyes became transfixed on the swing, a sweet memory. Then nearby, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye.

A young man stepped out from behind a small shed.

Kelly gasped. “Shit.”

Jake froze. “Keep calm. He sees us.”

“Who is it?” asked Emma.

Kelly studied the stranger. “I've never seen him before.”

The young man wore a black T-shirt. His head was shaved. He began walking toward them.

Jake slipped the tire iron up the sleeve of his shirt, hiding it.

“Maybe it's one of the neighbor kids…” said Kelly. “He doesn't look familiar…”

“Everybody just play it cool,” said Jake.

The young man in the black T-shirt advanced toward them. “What are you doing here?” he called out.

Emma looked at Jake for an answer.

Jake stepped forward. “We're looking for our dog,” he said.

The young man stood in their path. He studied their faces. “Dog?”

“Yes,” said Emma. “We live a ways down…”

The young man said, “Bullshit.”

“No, it's true,” said Emma. “Down the road. We…”

“You're trespassing,” said the young man. “You don't belong here.”

Kelly erupted. “Yes we do. This is my parents' house.
Who the hell are you?
”

The young man pulled a handgun out from under his black shirt. He pointed it at them. “Border patrol,” he said.

“What?” said Emma.

“I'm one of the chosen believers,” said the boy. “I have been enlisted to help guard the vicinity from unwanted intruders. I know who you are. You don't belong here.”

“Yes we do,” said Emma. “We're family.”

“No. Your family no longer exists. There is a new family. You are outsiders and you will be treated as such. Come with me.” He gestured with the gun for them to move in front of him. Kelly moved first, followed by Emma. Emma's first step caught in a small divot. She stumbled, falling into the dirt.

“Stupid bitch,” said the young man and the distraction was all Jake needed…

Jake slammed the tire iron into the back of the boy's skull. Stunned, the boy staggered several steps and swung around to face his attacker. Jake struck him again, harder, creating a spray of blood. One more blow landed across the boy's temple and he went down into the soybeans.

Jake jumped on his arm to grab the gun. The struggle lasted only a few seconds as the boy slipped into unconsciousness. Blood continued to seep from his wounds.

“Oh my God,” cried Emma. “Oh my God.”

Jake stood up, catching his breath. He held the gun. “I had to do it. I had no choice. You saw the look in his eyes…”

“Now what do we do?” asked Emma.

“We keep going,” said Kelly.

Jake nodded. “We can't stop now.”

The three stepped out of the rows of soybean and into the tall grass surrounding the farmhouse.

Without making a sound, Emma waved to get the attention of Jake and Emma. She pointed to the side of the house. Gary's van sat parked in the gravel driveway, displaying the colorful Gary's Game Day logo embellished with his smiling cartoon character face.

Jake nodded and gripped the gun tighter. They moved closer toward the house.

Suddenly Kelly let out a muffled shout. Jake and Emma turned to find Kelly clutching her hand over her mouth, eyes bugged wide, screaming uncontrollably, while desperately trapping the sounds from escaping into the air.

Jake and Emma rushed to her side. Emma tripped on the way, stumbling over two large objects lying in the tall grass. She immediately discovered the source of Kelly's horror—a pair of dead bodies, shot execution style in the back of the head.

Kelly's parents.

Chapter Thirty-One

Kelly ran for the tool shed between the barn and the farmhouse. Once inside, she collapsed to the dirt floor and released an anguished cry, followed by heavy sobs. Jake and Emma caught up with her, closing the shed door behind them.

They gave Kelly time to collect herself. Emma kneeled down and stroked her hair.

“We're going to find Christina,” promised Emma. “She's safe, I know it. We'll find her and take her home.”

Kelly looked up at Emma, tears streaming down her face. “We don't know that. Maybe they've killed her too. Why wouldn't they?”

“Because they can use her as leverage,” said Jake, matter of fact. “She's valuable as a hostage.”

Jake stepped over to a small, square window clouded by dirt and spider webs. He rubbed a small peek hole with his sleeve and took a look outside.

Activity immediately caught his eye.

“They're moving the truck,” he announced.

Emma joined him and together they watched Gary drive the store van farther up the driveway. He turned the van to one side and then reversed, backing the rear of the vehicle toward the barn. Rodney and Sam emerged from the barn, swinging open its large red doors. After the van backed into the barn, Rodney and Sam closed the doors from the inside.

“What are they doing?” said Emma.

“I'm going to find out,” said Jake. He moved away from the window.

“Please be careful,” said Emma.

“They won't see me,” said Jake. He held the gun tight and stepped outside.

Jake surveyed the area, saw no one, and hurried to the barn's entrance, ducking low. He stepped up to a narrow crack between the closed doors and looked inside.

“Oh my God,” he said quietly, under his breath.

Rodney, Gary, Carol and Sam slid a large, bullet-shaped silver canister into the back of the van. Kelly's fearful premonition had come true: the foursome had acquired an inversion bomb.

Once the canister was secured inside the vehicle, Gary said, “Let's cover it up.”

Jake watched as Carol threw blankets over the warhead. Then Rodney and Sam began filling the back of the van with cardboard boxes, stacking them around the bomb, obscuring it. One of the boxes toppled, spilling its contents to the ground, revealing dozens of plastic promotional footballs.

Jake spun away from the barn. He ran back to the shed.

“They have a bomb,” he said, rejoining Kelly and Emma. “They're loading it into Gary's van.”

“Holy shit,” said Emma.

“It's the other inversion bomb,” said Kelly. “They found it. But how could they just walk off with it?”

“It doesn't matter,” said Jake. “We need to find Christina and get out of here so we can contact Homeland Security.”

“Where do you think she is?” said Emma.

“We'll check inside the house,” said Jake. “We need to do it fast while the rest of them are in the barn…”

Kelly stepped over to a side of the shed and grabbed a long, sharp bale spear used for moving bundles of hay. “Let's go,” she said, tears drying on her face. “Let them try to stop us.”

Jake, Kelly and Emma departed from the tool shed, moving swiftly to the house. They reached the front porch, opened the door and entered without being seen.

The three moved quickly through the rooms of the house. Kelly called out, “Christina! Christina, it's Mommy!”

In the kitchen, they came across a table filled with maps and blueprints. Jake studied them for a moment and discovered the layout to Chicago's football stadium. The realization sent him reeling. “There's a big game tonight, Monday Night Football. It's sold out, 60,000 in the seats and a national television audience. They're taking Gary's truck because Gary's a local football hero. He'll get in, no questions asked.”

Kelly moved away from the table. “Christina!” she cried out more urgently, heading into a corridor.

Then she heard a response: a small voice, muffled and distant.

“Mommy.”

“Christina!”
She raced to the one area she had not yet explored—the basement.

Kelly unbolted the door to the basement and opened it. She hurried down the wooden steps and saw her three-year-old daughter chained beneath a water basin, dirty and scared.

“Christina!”

Kelly ran to her, dropping the bale spear. Jake and Emma followed close behind.

Kelly hugged her little girl and tried to pull her closer —but the child barely budged, handcuffed to a pipe.

“Son of bitch!” said Jake. He grabbed the pipe and pulled hard, but it would not break from the wall.

Christina started to cry.

“Don't cry, honey,” said Kelly. “We're going to get you out of here. We'll find a way…”

“We need a hack saw,” said Jake. “Even then, it'll take time. I don't know how much time we have…”

“A hack saw?” said Kelly.

“Or something…anything that can cut…” Jake inspected the silver cuff around Christina's wrist. “Unless we…”

“Unless what?” said Emma.

“Those police handcuffs are designed for adults, she's got small hands. I might be able to pull her hand out. But…”

“Pull her hand out?” said Kelly.

“She'll be okay…but we might have to break some bones in her hand to make it work.”

Kelly let out a short gasp.

“No,” said Emma. “We can't—”

“Yes,” said Kelly. “Do it. Do it fast, get it over with. We have to leave. Just get her free!”

Jake looked into Christina's eyes. “We're going to free you, Christina. It's going to hurt. You're very brave, Christina. You're a big girl. We have to get you out of here. Your hand will hurt but it'll get better. It's the only way…”

Kelly held Christina's free hand. “Squeeze my fingers, honey. Squeeze tight. Close your eyes and squeeze mommy's hand…”

Jake reached forward. He gripped the metal cuff in one hand and placed his other hand over Christina's fingers. He began squeezing hard, compressing the bone and flesh, forcing it down.

Christina screamed.

Kelly silently cried, clasping her daughter's free hand, which squirmed wildly.

After several sharp pops, Jake pulled Christina free from the handcuffs.

Christina sobbed.

Jake handed her to Kelly, who held her tight. “Honey, don't cry,” she said, still crying herself.

“We have to quiet her down before we can leave,” said Jake.

“Please don't cry,” said Kelly, kissing Christina's wet face. “Please, honey. We need to take you home.”

After several minutes, the little girl's cries became soft whimpers. Her broken hand swelled up, scraped and raw.

“You're very brave,” Jake said to her. “Your mommy's very proud.” He turned to the others. “We better go.”

“I'll carry Christina,” said Kelly. She picked up and handed the bale spear to Emma. “You take this.”

Emma took it and stared at the strange, sharp object.

They moved to the basement stairs and began climbing the steps in a single file, beginning with Emma, followed by Jake, and then Kelly carrying Christina.

As Emma reached the top step, a tall figure moved into the doorway, blocking it.

Sam.

He halted their exit from the basement.

“So, we do indeed have intruders,” he said. A head-shaven young man stepped next to him, similar in age and appearance to the boy Jake had struck down with the tire iron.

Sam said, “Scott is a member of our border patrol. He discovered a strange car parked down the road and suggested we might have visitors. Scott is a disciple of my church, very faithful to our cause and prepared to do anything I ask of him to serve our mission.”

“Sam,” said Emma, gripping the bale spear. “This isn't you. Please. Listen to me.”

“No, you listen to me. You three will remain in the basement. The girl will come with us. Now hand her over.”

“No!” shouted Kelly.

Jake remained standing behind Emma, keeping his hands out of view. He slowly pulled the pistol out from under his shirt.

“You will provide us with the girl or we will take her by the hair and drag her up here,” said Sam. “You choose.”

Scott lifted a black handgun. He pointed it down the stairs at them. “You heard what he said. Give us the girl.”

No one moved.

“You poor dead bastards…” started Sam.

Jake exploded into action. He pushed Emma aside, raised his gun and pumped the trigger, firing a series of shots. A bullet struck Scott in the chest and he stumbled backward to slam into the corridor wall. Jake continued firing and Sam slipped out of sight.

Scott sunk to the ground, leaving a red stain on the wall. Jake charged out of the basement with the gun still drawn. He found Sam at the other end of the corridor, crawling on his hands and knees, bleeding on the carpet.

Sam muttered in a low, guttural voice. At first, it sounded like gibberish. Then Jake realized he was praying. But not to God.

“Hail, O Satan, O rebellion, O you avenging force of human reason, let our prayers rise to meet your greatness.” Then Sam erupted into a coughing fit, spitting up blood.

A rush of emotions overtook Jake. “Sam, I'm sorry. I had to do it…”

Sam turned and looked at Jake. “Yes, you did,” he said, eyes glassy. “You shot me dead, Jake.” Then he smiled with red teeth. “You know what that means, don't you?
I'll see you in hell
.”

Sam pitched face first into the carpet.

Emma emerged from the basement, followed by Kelly carrying Christina. Kelly shielded Christina's eyes from the bodies on the floor.

“Sam,” said Emma. “Is he…?”

“Yes,” said Jake, stunned. “I couldn't help it. I just started firing. There was no other way…”

Kelly took Christina away from the carnage, heading for the front door. “Let's get out quick before…”

Then she stopped, freezing at a window. Outside, she saw Rodney, Gary and Carol walking swiftly toward the house.

“They're coming!” she shouted.

“They probably heard the shots,” said Jake. “Stay close to me. I have the gun.”

They huddled in the kitchen and waited. The front door creaked open, followed by footsteps.

Rodney stepped first into the kitchen.

“Stop right there!” shouted Jake. He pointed the gun. Emma and Kelly crouched behind him. Kelly shielded Christina with her body.

Rodney lifted his arm to display his own gun. “I would not recommend a shootout. I'm a trained police officer. I can tell you in advance who will win.”

“Don't be so sure,” said Jake. “I took care of Sam.”

Gary and Carol appeared next to Rodney, standing on either side of him at the kitchen entrance.

“They've seen our maps,” said Gary.

“Yes, we know your plans,” said Emma. “Gary, please, don't do this. You're sick. This whole plan is sick.”

“Sick?” said Gary. “I've never felt better in my life.”

“Can't you see what's happening?” said Kelly. “The island… The boat trip… You went through a cloud, a passage in the atmosphere. You're contaminated, it turned you evil. You're good people, this isn't who you really are.”

Rodney cocked his head. “Turned us…evil?”

“Yes,” said Kelly. “You've changed.”

“I'm afraid you're wrong,” said Rodney. “You're operating on the assumption that we're born good, that good is a core essence of what it means to be human, and that something changed us to create a new behavior. So let me set you straight. Evil, my dear, is not created by a sickness, a defect, a disturbed environment or outside influence. Evil is the starting point for all of us. We are not born good and become bad. We are born bad and conform to good. We are shaped by society, molded by laws, force-fed ideals by phony religions to create a false sense of security that doesn't represent who we really are. We are beasts, Kelly. It's part of our DNA. We hand over our souls to evil the day we're born. This isn't a departure. It's coming home.”

“You're possessed by the devil,” said Emma.

“No,” responded Rodney. “You're possessed by your own delusions.”

Carol stepped forward. Her face turned gentle. She smiled at Jake.

“Honey,” she said, “I wanted you…to be proud of me.”

“Proud of you?” said Jake.

“Of course. You were always telling me I needed to stand up for myself. You said I needed to show some backbone at work, that I let them walk all over me. You said I didn't discipline the kids, I let them push me around, I wasn't showing my strength and authority. You did say that, didn't you?”

“But that's different—” said Jake.

“Is it? You wanted me to toughen up, those are your words. You said I was too gentle, too soft, too passive…at the office, with the kids, in bed. You wanted a tiger, didn't you?”

“Carol,” said Jake. “You're not making any sense.”

She stepped over to the kitchen counter. She extracted a long knife from the carving block. “Well, a tiger needs its claws.”

She held the knife out and twisted it in the air. “This is the Carol you always wanted. Dangerous. Mysterious. Unpredictable. God knows it's more sexy than shy little miss prim ‘n' proper who blushes at R-rated movies. Anything but boring old Carol. Soft-spoken Carol. Sad little Carol, the victim, the weakling of the family. Do you think I enjoyed it? I spent my days frightened and intimidated, always accommodating everyone else. And where did it get me? The same pitiful response every time, the lamest of all accolades, the word we use to cover up every other deficiency… ‘She's so
sweet
.'”

“Carol,” said Jake. “Please. I liked you…sweet.”

She stepped in front of Jake. She gently touched his face and looked into his eyes. Her voice lowered to a soft whisper. “Maybe you did, Jake. But I didn't like myself.”