The River Runs Dry (21 page)

…

Jessie sat in the back of Jack's car, nervously watching through the windshield. There were half a dozen cop cars parked around her, a couple of cops standing guard outside. They shifted their gaze over to her and then towards Jack, who had Carla, Bill, and several other cops alongside him.

They'd driven out to a location outside of Burgess, several miles out onto the open plains towards Death Valley. There were no roads, nothing but cracked earth and red dirt, kicked up by the cars ahead.

Jack had spoken to her as they drove, telling her that they had a trace on Darcia's phone, that they were going to check it out. She'd insisted on going, and he didn't refuse. Jack's priority was her safety now, and he wasn't leaving her anywhere without him, even back at the PD.

Jessie's mind shifted between hope and fear as they drove: hope that Darcia would be found, alive, and that maybe they'd find the killer too. But her logic told her otherwise, and it whispered a different story into her ear. Darcia was dead. Her light had faded.

Ahead of her now was a vision from a horror film. An old shack, long disused, isolated and alone among the wide plains. There was nothing nearby, no homes, no settlements, no sign of life. She wondered what the shack was, why it was there. A hunting lodge maybe, but what was there to hunt out here?

Her mind was left blank, but what the place was was irrelevant. No, she knew what it was really.

It was a tomb.

…

Jack crept forward, his gun held out in front of him, Carla to his back, along with the others. Ahead was a small shack, rickety and old, creaking in the wind. It looked like a heavy breeze would blow it over, slats of wood splintered along the walls, barely holding up the flat roof.

Jack's eyes instinctively shot to the floor outside the door, where the dirt had been recently disturbed. There were signs of footprints, but they weren't clear. He stepped forward, hearing the breathing of the officers at his back, and pushed at the door with his hand.

It fell open easily, not hindered by a lock, creaking and scraping slightly as it dragged across the floor. The day was drawing on, the sun fading behind the old barn, so little light poured inside. Jack stepped in, his gun still pointing forward, and squinted his eyes into the bare opening ahead.

As he looked on, his heart constricted at a common sight. It started as a silhouette, before slowly, ominously, coming into focus. The sight of a body, sitting upright in a chair, the head bowed down, unmoving.

He arched his neck a touch and looked behind, where the others stood, guns pointing, faces tense, breath held.

“It's her,” was all he said, as he walked into the dimness of the shack, the wooden floorboards creaking underfoot.

He lifted his flashlight from his pocket, waiting to be greeted by a sliced up face and torn up scalp: the features of Darcia Robinson, mangled and brutalized. He clicked the flashlight on and swung it up her body and towards her head, but something was different. It wasn't the same as before.

There was no blood on the floor, no pool accumulating around the chair legs. The light swung quickly to the face and Jack's eyes grew wider. The head was bowed, but her hair was intact. He stepped forward, quickly, and lifted the girl's chin as footsteps creaked behind him.

The face raised to meet his, and so did the eyes. They were also unharmed, no blood or sign of damage around the closed lids. His finger quickly rushed to the girl's throat, feeling for a pulse.

“She's alive,” Jack whispered to himself, before his voice grew, reaching the ears of those behind him. “SHE'S ALIVE!” he shouted, hearing the sound of feet moving quicker towards him.

Carla rushed in, coming to Jack's side and quickly unbinding the girl's feet as Jack worked on her wrists.

“Darcia,” he said, loudly. “Darcia can you hear me?”

Darcia groaned, trying to form words but none came.

“She's been drugged,” said Jack. “Call an ambulance, now.”

Carla stepped up and backwards, rushing out of the barn and back into the setting light of the sun.

“Darcia,” Jack said again, “do you know where you are?”

Darcia continued to groan, her eyes still closed. She seemed as though she was in a deep sleep, as though she was in a nightmare. Her eyelids were clamped shut, flickering lightly, her head beginning to shake and twist.

“Why do you think he left her alive?” Bill's voice was heard behind, causing Jack to lift his head and arch his neck.

“I have no idea.” Jack said. “It doesn't matter right now. She's safe, that's all that matters.”

He stood, turning back towards the door. “I need to tell Jessie,” he said, his eyes fixed on the exit, “stay with her Bill, call me if she wakes up.”

Then Jack paced forwards, straight back into the light, his eyes adjusting to the burning heat of the sun once more. Ahead he could see his car, Jessie still sitting patiently inside. She sat forward, staring through the glass towards him, her face a picture of abject worry.

He quickened his pace, reaching the car in moments and opening up the door to the passenger seat. Jessie looked at him as though she didn't even want to hear what he had to say, that she didn't want to hear the inevitable. That her best friend was dead. She didn't want to hear it said, then it would become real.

She shook her head as he approached. “Don't even say it Jack. I know it's her. I don't need you to say it.”

She kept her face down, unwilling to even look in his eyes.

“No Jess, she's OK. Darcia's alive, she's drugged, but she seems OK.”

Jessie's eyes shot immediately to his, and she saw the smile on his face. It was the first bit of relief from all of this, the first piece of good news. Nothing had gone their way, nothing. The Butcher had been relentless, killing with impunity; mutilating, torturing his victims. But not this time. This time she was safe. This time he'd slipped up, made a mistake. Maybe he hadn't realized the phone was with Darcia? Maybe he didn't know it could be traced. Or maybe...maybe he did.

Jack's mind ran with such thoughts as Jessie jumped from the car and hugged him. Her scent ran up his nose, the press of her body against his making him feel human again. But still he thought, still his mind remained occupied. Had the killer made a mistake? Had he left her here alive on purpose?

Jessie's embrace drew Jack's attention back to her, her words running from her mouth. “Can I see her?” she said, her chin over Jack's shoulder. “Can I go in?”

Jack pulled her back off him, begrudgingly removing her warmth from his body, and shook his head. “It's a crime scene Jess, it's got to be controlled. The ambulance is on its way, it should be here any minute, you can see her then.”

Jessie nodded and smiled wider than she had in a while. Then she moved in and hugged Jack again. “Thank you Jack. Thank you.”

But Jack knew such thanks were premature. Whether Trey Hunter had made a mistake or not, things were far from over.

…

It was a couple of hours later when both Jack and Jessie sat, side by side, in the waiting room of the hospital. The doctors had been doing tests on Darcia since she was taken in, just to make sure she was OK, that there was no real, lasting damage to her.

They sat, patiently together, waiting in silence. Both had so much on their minds. For Jessie she was delighted her friend was OK, but terrified that he'd given her something, something that would cause her damage, something that might kill her. Had the killer started changing? Was he poisoning girls now, watching them suffer in front of his eyes? The logical wannabe criminal psychologist in her thought it unlikely, but right now it was her emotional side that was dominating.

Jack had similar thoughts cascading through his head, itching to find out what had happened directly from her. Why hadn't he killed her? Was he going to go back again later, finish the job? Did he have to be somewhere else during the day? His job, perhaps?

The last thought, in particular, was dominating his mind. The girl had been taken overnight, during his 'hunting' hours, but left in that shack, alone. Maybe he was planning on returning the following evening after work? Maybe he had a normal life outside of his murderous moonlighting existence. Jack was well aware that most serial killers did just that, living regular lives, only punctuated by their violence and bloodlust when it got too much for them to bear. But even so, did it get him any closer to finding the guy? Probably not.

As they waited, and thought, in silence, Jessie's hand slipped into Jack's. She gripped it tight, and he gripped back. They sat there like that for a time, just looking forward, their minds wrapped around their own issues, their own thoughts. But within them, within the drama, both could feel something towards each other, something growing from the ashes. He would protect her until the end, and together, they'd hunt this guy down.

A voice struck at the both of them as they sat there, coming from the side as they waited, hand in hand. They both turned, quickly to the left, to see a doctor standing, smiling, next to them, and stood to meet him.

“Detective Slade,” he said, “my name is Doctor Ramdin. I've done some tests and it appears that Miss Robinson was given a small dose of suxamethonium chloride, a paralytic agent used to induce muscle relaxation and short term paralysis.”

Jessie gripped again at Jack's hands. “Paralysis.”

The doctor turned his eyes to Jessie, and spoke with comfort. “Only short term. She's fine now.”

“Any idea when the drug was administered doctor?” asked Jack. “And how long it should last?”

“I'd estimate some time last night or early morning. It really depends on the dose as to how long it would put you out, as well as other factors. It was clearly intended to keep her in a state of paralysis until this evening.”

A day's dose. Perfect to keep her out of commission until he got back.

“Might we see her doctor? Is she ready to take questions?”

Dr Ramdin nodded. “She's just fine now. You can see her, but keep it fairly short. She needs her rest.”

“Thank you so much doctor,” said Jessie, itching to move off.

Dr Ramdin nodded at her thanks and turned to walk away, leaving Jack and Jessie to move down the corridor towards her room. There were two guards outside, standing like statues up against the wall.

They walked in past them, straight through the door, and saw her. Darcia lay there, in the white bed, looking tired and distressed. Jessie's reaction was immediate, running forward and hugging her tight. Darcia cried into her shoulder as they embraced, her tears soaking Jessie's shirt.

“You scared us honey,” Jessie said. “What the hell happened?”

Jack moved forward quietly as they hugged and cried, slipping his notepad, as he always did, from his pocket in preparation. He stood and waited, until the girls finally unlocked their bodies and Jessie pulled back.

It was only then that Darcia's eyes met Jack's. They showed a deep thanks as she looked at him and spoke, her voice weak and brittle with emotion.

“Thank you so much, thank you....for finding me.”

Jack moved forward and briefly took her hand. “It's my job,” he said, smiling.

He stepped back again and pulled two chairs from the wall. One he moved round to Jessie, and the other he pulled up for himself. He sat down, still looking into Darcia's eyes, and asked her calmly: “can you tell me what happened?”

She nodded, a calmness to her, and spoke. “I remember my door opening. I remember waking up and seeing a shadow come forward towards me. I thought I might be dreaming....I've been having bad dreams about that since....before.... so I just stared and did nothing.” She lifted her finger to her eye and brushed a tear away before it slid down her face. Both Jack and Jessie could still see the guilt inside her from what happened with her brother.

“I didn't do anything, I just lay there, watching,” she continued. “It wasn't until he got close that I saw him, that I knew it wasn't a dream, that it was real....”

“His face....you saw it clearly?” asked Jack, noting in his pad.

“Not clearly, no. It was dark, and he wore a cap. I saw his eyes, they were dark, weird, full of....hate.”

“And then what?” Jack whispered.

“His hand came down onto me, so quickly I didn't know what to do. I was still hazy, still half sleeping, and then I felt a prick in my neck, and it all went black. That's it. That's all I remember. The next thing I know I'm waking up here, just a little while ago.”

“Your phone,” Jack said. “How did you have that with you if you were in bed?”

“My phone?” she asked, frowning.

“Your phone, it's how we found you, we traced its signal.”

Darcia still looked at him confused, trying to think. “I don't know. I always leave my phone on my bedside table. I....didn't touch it.”

Jack glanced up at Jessie, who also had a large frown on her face. “So you didn't have it on you, in your pocket or anything?”

She shook her head. “No, I'd never do that, not with my pyjamas.”

Jack looked down to his pad and scribbled a couple more notes.

“Anything else Darcia, anything else you remember?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. That's it.”

“OK, that's OK,” he said, his mind moving elsewhere. “If something comes back to you, let me know.”

Then he stood and moved quickly to the door, leaving Jessie and Darcia alone in the room. He stopped outside and turned to the two guards. “I need one of you on this door at all times. If you need to piss, do it quick. And don't take any coffee or anything from a doctor or anyone else. And if you see a man matching our description, call it in.”

Then he carried on down the corridor, moving quickly out into the night air. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, sucking in a deep breath as he stood gazing up into the night sky. He heard footsteps to his back, and turned to see Jessie quickly coming out towards him.

“What do you think's going on here Jack? The phone, he took the phone?”

Jack took another drag and offered one to Jessie. She shook her head, her eyes set on him.