The Hum (12 page)

CHAPTER 20

Chasing after a murderer wasn’t something Russell Jent was accustomed to in his current position. No one had been killed in his town for nearly eight years. It didn’t help things in the least that the victim was one of his own deputies. Larry Carlson had worked with him for the last five years, choosing to leave his home out west and settle down in the quite town of Wise, Virginia.

Russell smiled at the recollection of his first encounter with Larry. Larry came in, applied for the deputy position, and then he went into town and rented an apartment. The position was more important to him than a place to stay. That was the way Larry viewed life too. He wanted to help people, to protect them. He didn’t care about his own wellbeing, as long as the law was being upheld. Russell wiped a tear from his eye—he wasn’t accustomed to crying, but he also wasn’t accustomed to people murdering his deputies, and friends.

The driver of the older model car in front of him was swerving all over the place, going in speeds excess of 90 miles per hour, and had already ran two vehicles off the road. Russell knew he needed to stop the man quickly, before more innocent people got hurt. He just hoped he’d be able to control his anger once he met up with the man—right now all he wanted to do was take his life in exchange for Deputy Carlson’s.

Using the same move they’d taught him at the academy, Russell clipped the left rear quarter panel of the car just enough to send it spinning into the side of the mountain on the right. Once the dust and smoke cleared, he jumped out with his weapon drawn, and headed over to the assailants smashed up vehicle. The entire front four feet of the vehicle was now compacted into the back, and the driver was forced into the rear bench seat from the force of the engine.

“Get out of the car and put your hands up!” Russell said with his weapon pointed at the perpetrator’s head.

The driver looked over at him confused and dumbfounded. Slowly, he reached up and wiped the blood dripping from his forehead out of his eyes. “What… what happened?”

“Open your door slowly, and get out of your car, mister!”

The driver did as he was told, as if in a daze. Once he was a few feet from the vehicle, Russell went around to his back and kicked his legs out from underneath him. Holstering his weapon, he then started kicking the man repeatedly.

“Please, stop. I’m sorry for killing that man. I…I had to do something to stop the humming in my head.” By this time, Russell had made his way around

to the man’s front and had his fist drawn back for a crushing blow to the side of his head. He stopped mid strike, when he heard the man mention the humming. Quite a few years had passed since he’d brought in the killer from the service station for murdering not only the four workers there, but also his wife, kids, and two other people. At the time, he thought the man insane like everyone else claiming the voices inside their head made them do it. Now, he was no longer sure.

“What did you say?” Russell asked the perpetrator, stopping just before his knuckles smashed into the man’s face.

“Officer, I need help. I keep hearing this strange humming sound in my head, and it won’t stop until… until I hurt people. I didn’t want to kill your friend back there, but it was the only way. The headaches have been unreal—I’ve pounded my head against the wall so many times that I’ve given myself a concussion. I didn’t know what else to do. It’s never enough. It’s almost like it wants me to kill for it. I’m telling you, it’s the only relief I get. The problem is that it doesn’t last for long. It always demands more. Please help me. Lock me up, take me in. Shoot me if you have to. If it will make it all go away, then I’ll take it. I’m begging you, Officer.”

Pulling the man back onto his feet, Russell removed his weapon and said, “Don’t tempt me.”

The perpetrator reached out and slowly guided Russell’s gun over to his temple. “Go ahead; anything to make it stop.”

All of the anger that he’d felt towards the man turned to pity in that instant, and it left Russell wondering how to proceed. Once again, he had the urge to console a murderer, but this time his anger over the loss of his murdered deputy won out. He put his weapon inside his holster and brought out the cuffs.

Placing the now handcuffed prisoner in the back of his police car, Russell took his seat up front and called the station to inform them that he was bringing the killer in. Over his shoulder, he asked the man, “How long have you been hearing this humming sound, mister?”

“It started when I turned sixteen. There was this senior in my school that liked to pick on us smarter kids, and one day him and a few of his bullying friends cornered me after school. They took turns punching me in the head and stomach, and at some point the humming set in. It wouldn’t stop after that. The funny thing was that it only occurred when I was near him.

The headaches were so intense that I had to do something to stop it all. Since the older boy normally hid out in the bushes and attacked me on my way home, I decided to carry a knife with me. Fortunately, he was by himself on this particular day. The details of it all are still a bit fuzzy, but I remember stabbing him over and over again, until he was no longer moving.”

“Did the police lock you up?”

“That’s the weird part—the boy’s body disappeared and no one ever mentioned him again. I started thinking that I’d blanked out and hidden his body somewhere, and feared that any day the police would show up and haul my butt off to jail. But it never happened. It’s almost as if the boy was never even a resident in Taos, or a student at Taos High School. When I asked a couple of my friends about him one day, they looked at me all weird, like I’d lost my mind. Over the next few years, I think I really did start to lose my mind.”

Sitting there in the front seat with another murderer confessing his crimes behind him, Russell was taken back to the service station incident, and he immediately remembered Kevin Black saying he’d murdered his own brother in Taos, New Mexico. He was beginning to wonder what was going on in the town. It had to be more than coincidence for two entirely different people to be hearing this strange hum which ultimately caused them to kill. When he’d heard Kevin’s confession all those years ago, he’d experienced a mixture of emotions, but never once did he seriously consider the man’s claims about the hum being true. Was he wrong?

“Have you been back to Taos since you moved away, mister?”

“I tried once, but when I got within fifty feet of the state, the headaches became so intense I couldn’t cross the line. It became pretty obvious that the town didn’t want me there, because my head eased off as soon as I turned around. I even tested it by trying to come back a day or two later, and sure enough my head felt like it was about to explode. Have you ever experienced a migraine before, Officer?”

“Only on one occasion. Right after the attack on the twin towers, September 11
th
, 2001. The pain was so intense that I actually buried my head in the cushion of the couch, just to get some relief. I’ll never forget that day—I’ve always wondered what the connection was between my pounding head and the attacks.”

“I’ve  had  migraines before too, Officer, but  it’s nothing compared to this humming. It will make you lose your mind—you’ll do anything. Unfortunately, even murder.”

With his mind spinning, Russell drove the rest of the way to the station in deep thought. What was going on in Taos? Two killers from the same town, both committing horrific murders, both claiming to have heard the same humming sound, and both experiencing extreme headaches.

As soon as he processed the man, Russell logged onto the criminal database and started looking for connections between crime rates in the United States and the city of Taos. His search yielded five pages of murders all over the country, and two more pages spreading across the entire globe. Sitting up a little straighter in his seat, he could feel his pulse beating faster. Something was definitely going on in that small town, and he planned to find out what it was. Why were so many people from that place killing people all over the world? Why wasn’t his latest killer able to go back there?

For the next four straight hours, Russell and his two remaining deputies divvied up the seven pages of names and began the tedious chore of charting them all across the globe. A good hour of that time was spent finding a map which depicted every country. Once they finished listing the murders and drew corresponding lines back to Taos, the brunt of what they were dealing with really settled in.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, Russell got on the phone with an old friend of his from the FBI, Dean Mason. They’d worked together for almost eight years, until Russell left the Bureau for a quieter life as the Sheriff of the small town of Wise. He’d grown up there, and after handling hundreds of cases out in D.C., he’d decided that life wasn’t for him. He didn’t feel that he was cut out for city life, or the hideous crimes that went on there. And now, here he was back in the middle of what might possibly be the biggest one yet.

“Hello Dean. It’s Russell Jent.”

“Russ? How the heck are you, old buddy? What has it been, seven years?”

“Eight. And I’m doing fine. Well, I was doing fine, until some psycho came into town and killed one of my men.”

“Sorry to hear that, man. Didn’t you hand that mass murderer over to the Bureau not more than a year after you moved back there? What was his name? Kevin…Kevin something?”

“Kevin Black, and yes, I put him away. Unfortunately, he ended up spending his time in the mental ward.”

It doesn’t sound like that small town of yours is all you expected it to be. Didn’t you move back there to get away from all the madness in the world?”

“I thought I was getting away from the crazies out there, but they seem to find me no matter where I end up.”

“Sorry bro. Is there anything I can do for you?” “Actually, that’s the reason I called. The man that

murdered those people at a service station here in town, Kevin Black, claimed to hear a strange humming noise, just like the man that killed my deputy a few hours ago.”

“Are you thinking a copycat killer?”

“Truthfully, that never even occurred to me. When I sat in my car and listened to this man confess to killing other individuals, I was instantly reminded of Mr. Black and his murdering spree. Add in the fact that both men said they had to silence the humming in their head and were experiencing killer migraine headaches, and you have the makings for a great conspiracy.”

“So they’re both crazy—it wouldn’t be the first

time.”

“Dean, they were both from a small town in New Mexico called Taos. My men and I did some digging into that town and you won’t believe what we found.”

“Do you really want me to guess? Really, Russ?” “It might give me time to calm my nerves.”

“Is it that bad? Tell me, man.”

“We mapped out over one hundred murders all over the world with ties back to Taos. All of the murderers are either deceased, in prison, or in the nut house.”

“Taos? Taos? Yes, I remember now. I read something somewhere about a scientific investigation the government conducted there in the 90’s. Something about a strange phenomenon going on there. Oh crap, Russ, you might’ve stumbled onto something major here. Can you send me what you’ve got so far? I’ll take it to the Director, and if he gives the go ahead, we’ll assemble a team to look into it. I’m sure we’ll need to have a word with your new prisoner too. Is he still there?”

“He will be here until tomorrow morning. We have to transport him to Richmond. We’re not equipped to handle such crimes around here. Besides, he’s not safe in Wise. Folks around town have already been threatening to storm the jail, to get their hands on him.”

“Well, keep me informed of his whereabouts. Man, I can’t believe you gave up city life for Podunk, Virginia living, and traded in your job at the Bureau for one as the Sheriff there.”

“At the time, I thought it would get me away from all of the murders and the psycho’s that commit them— guess I was wrong. On a serious note, this thing really has me concerned, Dean. I sat down with both of these men, and I can assure you something’s not right here. Mr. Black killed his own brother when he was just eight years old. Eight, Dean. Now I know we’ve had some kids kill other kids in our country, but those numbers are relatively low and I highly doubt any of them claimed to have heard this humming sound.”

“One thing’s for sure, this is more than just coincidence. Shoot me what you’ve got, and I’ll be in touch.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Dean.”

“My pleasure. Debbie and I would love to see you and Sam again. How are the kids doing?”

“Everyone’s doing fine. Kids are growing and eating everything in the house, and Sam couldn’t be happier since we moved back here. What about yours? How’s Debbie?”

“She tells me all the time how much she misses having you guys around. Since Sam moved away, she’s been dragging me along shopping with her. Need I tell you how much I hate shopping? The mere thought of stepping foot into a clothes store makes me sleepy. As a matter of fact, I think I’m getting tired just talking about it.”

“Well you hang in there, man. Tell Deb we’ll have to come back up and visit sometime. I’d ask you guys to come down here, but she wouldn’t like shopping at Wal-Mart and that’s basically all we have to offer.”

“What? Everybody loves Wallyworld, man. I’ll talk to you soon, Russ.”

“Later.”