Scream (40 page)

Cheryl was still lying on the floor, arms across her chest, legs
extended, when Amber sat next to her and placed a hand on
her shoulder. "You OK?"

"Yeah," Cheryl said. She turned her head to face Amber. "I
don't know if I can do that again."

Amber gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You don't
have to. I'll do the next one. Or maybe Ginny will."

Cheryl reached her hand up and covered Amber's. She'd only
known Amber a few days, but the woman was like a sister to
her already. Must be a captivity thing. The admiration she felt
for Amber went much deeper than sisterhood, though. It was
obvious the woman was suffering, and yet she had remained
strong and determined. There was no way, in her weakened
state, that she could wrestle the other demon to its death, and yet she had volunteered. And she'd give it a go too. But Cheryl
couldn't let her do that.

"Thanks, but I'll do it. I just need another minute. Where's
Ginny?"

"Looking for another crack that'll work. We can't use the
same spot. The other dog ran off."

Cheryl laced her fingers with Amber's. "Thanks for helping
me out there. I almost lost the belt, you know."

"But you didn't," Amber said. "You did it."

Cheryl smiled and felt another tear slip from her eye and
trickle over her temple. "I'm glad I have you here. Help me up,
and let's finish this."

Amber stood and offered her hand. Cheryl grasped it and
hoisted herself up with a grunt. Her hands were still sore, and
her back ached like someone had stuck a hot poker right into
the base of her spine. She walked over to where she had strangled the dog and peered through the crack. The clouds had
parted, allowing soft moonlight to wash the outside world in
deepening shades of blue. She could even make out the tree line
in the distance. At her feet, just on the other side of the wall, lay
a dark lifeless shadow. The dog. But where was the other one?

Cheryl heard footsteps shuffling through the straw behind
her. "I found another gap I think'll work." It was Ginny.
"So ... whenever you're ready."

Cheryl turned her head a quarter turn. "I'm ready." She
wasn't really. She would never be ready to do that again. It had
taken everything she had, physically and emotionally, to wrestle
that beast and kill it. How many times could she do that? How
many times could she turn herself inside out and drain herself
of every ounce of energy and courage and faith and resolve?

Once more. That's all she had to do it. Once more. And what
if it didn't work? It was pure luck, a miracle even, that Ginny's ridiculous plan had even worked once. What were the chances
of the other dog falling for the same trick after watching its pal
die? Luck or no luck, miracle or no miracle, it had to work again.
It was as simple as that. They couldn't be wandering around out
there in the open with even one of the Dobermans after them.
She needed to finish the job. Then they would be free.

She tried to focus on that, on the end result. Freedom.

An image of the three of them running through the prairie
in their stocking feet and sweat suits with the Doberman in hot
pursuit, gaining ground quickly, flashed through her mind. It
would be a terrible way to-

"-Cheryl" Amber's voice, followed by three loud coughs,
brought her back.

Cheryl blinked and looked at Amber.

"Are you sure you want to do this again?" Amber said.

Cheryl brushed her hair away and ran the back of her wrist
over her forehead. Despite the cool air, she'd already broken out
in a sweat. "Yeah. Yes. Let's just get it over with, OK?"

Amber held up the belt. It hung from her hand like a black
hangman's noose.

Cheryl was about to reach for the belt when she froze. What
was that sound? Tires on dirt. In the distance.

He was back.

A tingle started at the top of her head and shot down her spine.
Goose bumps peppered her arms and legs. Her pulse spiked. This
was it. They were too late. Freedom had slipped from their grasp,
and now they would die. And God only knew how.

Cheryl looked at Amber, and Amber met her gaze. They
stood motionless for a second, staring into each other's eyes.
Both knew what it meant. To her right, Ginny whimpered.
She'd heard it too.

"I'm sorry," Cheryl whispered.

"What if it's the police?" Ginny said.

The police. Could it be? Could they actually have found
them? Cheryl rushed to the wall and peered through a crack.
The sound was getting closer, but she didn't see any flashing
lights. But then again, maybe they'd turned the lights off so as
not to announce their arrival. As much as she tried not to let it,
a glimmer of hope worked its way through the gloom. Maybe
they'd somehow traced Mark's call. She glanced at Amber and
Ginny-both had their faces pressed against the gaps between
planks, like prisoners longing for freedom-then back to the
sound of the tires. The police. Freedom. Maybe-

The car came into view, and Cheryl couldn't hold back the
sob that leaped from her throat. Moonlight glowed off the white
roof and hood of judge's sedan.

HERYL STEPPED BACK FROM THE WALL. HER LEGS
felt weak and her hands tingled. She tried to swallow,
but nothing happened. Ginny crumpled to the floor and
began crying. Amber kicked the wall and cursed.

He was back. Tonight they would die. If she could, if she was
capable of such an atrocity and if she had the means, Cheryl
thought she would end her own life now, before that sicko had
a chance to get his hands on her.

And then what, Cheryl? Huh? Then what?

The sedan came to a stop, and the headlights winked out.
Seconds later, the driver-side door swung open, and the familiar
form of judge climbed out. He donned his Stetson and walked
around to the rear of the car. The trunk swung open. Cheryl
lost sight of him until he rounded the corner again, hauling
something large over his right shoulder.

Cheryl's heart dropped into her stomach. The moonlight distorted the image of judge walking toward them but
not enough that she couldn't tell the bundle thrown over his
shoulder was another woman. Number four. Surely that was it.
Four victims who would die tonight. She tried again to swallow,
but her throat was still locked up. Her hands began to tremble.

Judge dumped the woman on the ground, kicked the cinder
block out of the way, and unlocked the cutout door. He stepped through the door, dragging the woman by the wrists. When her
feet cleared the doorway, he let go of her wrists, faced Cheryl
and the others, and straightened his back. "She's alive, but don't
bother with her. It's time." And with that he left, closing and
locking the door behind him.

Cheryl and Amber rushed over to the new girl. The first
thing Cheryl noticed was her uniform. She was a cop. A sheriff's
deputy from Allegheny County. Her nameplate read Foreman.
Was she looking for them and judge intercepted her? If so, then
maybe others knew where they were. Maybe they were on their
way right now.

Cheryl looked at Amber then over her shoulder at Ginny,
who was back in her corner, arms wrapped around folded legs,
face buried in her knees. She turned back to Amber. "We have
to stay alive a little longer."

Cheryl heard a rustling behind her, turned, and saw Ginny
heading her way.

"Stay alive a little longer?" Ginny said. Her jaw was tight, lips
pulled thin, a wild look flared in her eyes. "We tried that. First
the cell phone, then the dog, and where did it get us? Huh?"
Her voice was tight, and tears started falling from her eyes.

Cheryl stood up and faced her. Amber followed, standing
shoulder to shoulder with Cheryl.

Ginny's lips began to quiver. "Tell me. Where did it get us?
We're still going to die." She then covered her face with her
hands, taking fistfuls of hair, and burst into sobs.

Cheryl reached out and pulled Ginny into her chest, holding
her tight. The younger woman was broken and defeated and
scared. Different people handled the imminence of death in
different ways. Some fought it stoically, some with panic, and
others surrendered to it. But either way, if death was coming,
the end result was the same for all.

Outside the barn, the trunk slammed shut. Amber ran to the
wall and put her face to a crack. Moments later, she returned to
Cheryl, Ginny, and Foreman, who still lay unconscious on the
floor. "He's coming back, carrying some kind of container."

Cheryl waited for the familiar sound of the cinder block
falling away and the metal lock disengaging, but it never
came. Through the gaps between the planks she could see the
broken silhouette of judge outside. He stopped at the door and
crouched down. When he stood, he walked to his right, and
Cheryl heard the sound of liquid splashing against the side of
the barn. What-?

Then the odor filled her nostrils. Gasoline. He was going to
burn them.

Ginny must have smelled it too. She broke away from Cheryl
and ran to the wall where judge was just on the other side,
dousing the brittle barn with gasoline. "Stop! Please stop!" she
screamed, her voice frantic. "Why are you doing this? What did
we do?"

But Judge ignored her. He continued sidestepping slowly,
swinging the gas container with each step.

"Listen to me!" Ginny cried. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

Suddenly, she jumped back and spun to face Cheryl and the
others, mouth wide in a silent scream, hands raised on either side
of her head. Cheryl knew what had happened. Judge had threaded
some of the gas through one of the gaps and doused Ginny.

Ginny stumbled toward them. Amber caught her and
wrapped her in a tight hug.

Judge continued his slow pace around the barn, rounding the
far corner and working his way across the back. When he came
to where the dead dog lay, he stopped. Cheryl held her breath.
Seconds ticked by, silent except for Ginny's muffled cries; her face was buried in Amber's chest. Judge stood motionless, gas
container at his side.

He turned then and let out a loud, long whistle. Then, "Duke!"
Within seconds, the smaller of the Dobermans was at his
feet, sniffing the carcass of its companion. Judge turned and
faced the barn. "You four women are hereby charged, tried, and
found guilty of the murder of Katie McAfee. Your sentence is
death. By fire."

With that, he doused the dead Doberman with gas and
continued on his course around the barn.

Cheryl looked at Amber. They had to do something. This guy
was insane. Guilty? Of murder? Who was Katie McAfee? He
obviously had the wrong women. But then, he knew that, she
was sure of it. Amber had told her what judge had said, about
a girl being burned to death and him watching the whole thing
and then being blamed for it. He said someone had to pay. That
someone was them-Cheryl, Amber, Ginny, and this poor cop,
Foreman. She was the lucky one, though. Unconscious, she
wouldn't feel a thing.