A Date with Death-Short Story Excerpt
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After visiting a rock concert on their first date, a young girl is targeted for death by a serial killer. Her date is dragged through the ordeal and forced to be her protector.
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I had heard about the new drug from somewhere. Maybe in Reader's Digest. It started with a 'P', like paraphernalia, or something. I didn't read the article. I had also heard about Seth Hackshaw and his rock group, “The Suicides.” I did read about him. His bio listed him as the lead singer of the popular group. Rumor claimed he was a serial killer with the brilliant mind of a philosopher. His group would tour from state to state, spreading their vile message of self-destruction. I would say they had a strong following, but the primary message of their song’s lyrics matched their band’s title. It’s hard to have a following when your fans keep killing each other. I thought it was a cult following; everywhere they went, people took their message to heart and ended their lives. Most were found at the scene with his music playing on and on. Some believed he was placing subliminal hidden messages in his music but that rumor was disproved. Some believed that others were carrying out the works of death on wanting fans. Some thought that his followers might have been getting some ‘help’ in the death department, from Hackshaw himself. He was brought before several courts in many different states on charges of murder; twelve people in nine states. He was defended by his lawyer under the ol’ freedom of speech act. There was just never any proof that he was the one killing his victims-that they all ended their lives under their own volition. The FBI eventually became involved and they watched him with the smallest microscope they could invent. As the FBI watched him, they discovered that during his performances, he would show special interest in one of the audience members. Usually, that included having them sing a solo with him. A few days later, that person would end up listed among those that committed suicide, whether or not they had any previous mental problems. Hackshaw didn’t seem to discriminate. Most of the victims were women, though, which constituted a pattern. However, the FBI still couldn’t find any proof which led them to believe he was not acting alone. His accomplice was never found.
The next performance on tour was to be in Salt Lake City, Utah; my state capital. The Suicides’ show was to be monitored by dozens of police officers that would have the hall surrounded. The operation was monitored and controlled by Federal agents. Afterwards, the band would then be escorted back to their hotel for ‘their own protection.’ It was supposed to be a routine, cautionary job, but they never counted on his accomplice.
My name is Keith Murdock. I live in an apartment near Brigham Young University, where I go to school. When I heard about The Suicides performance, I decided to avoid it at all costs. Being in the same room with a potential serial killer was not my idea of a good time. But fate likes to play games with life, so I never counted on Monday.
It started out as a regular boring morning. My first class was at ten, so I slept in, despite Roy, one of my roommates, noisily shaving in the nearby bathroom. At ten, my alarm went off and I got up, slowly. I usually get up at eleven fifteen. Roy thinks I'm a rock. I will sleep completely sound, but at the slightest sound I will instantly wake up with complete energy. I got dressed after I had taken a shower, then ate breakfast. My other roommates were already up and gone. After breakfast, I grabbed my books and walked to school, avoiding the traffic the best I could as a pedestrian.
I walked into the class, Psychology, and took a seat at the end of the table so I could get out of there fast when class was over. A small, blonde haired woman sat next to me. I didn't pay much attention, like normal, as I started thumbing through my book and organizing my notes. Our instructor walked in and class started. He began writing notes on the board and I went for my pencil.
I was about to write when I noticed the lead was broken. I scoped around the room for a pencil sharpener, with no luck. A pen was then handed to me by the small woman on my right. I looked up to her as I took the pen. Her blue eyes sparkled with shimmering highlights. Her face shone with an inner beauty and excitement. Her hair was combed back and glistening like fair honey. Her lips, toned to a tulips hue. They...moved.
"Here, borrow my pen." her sweet voice sung. I was in a state of shock at her, and mentally slapped myself.
"Uh, thanks." I whispered, taking the pen and started to take notes.
"Tammy." she said.
I looked up. "What?"
"My name's Tammy. Tammy Hendrickson."
I nodded. "Oh, the name's Keith Murdock." I reached over and shook her hand, then resumed with the note taking.
"I've seen you around a lot." she continued. "You like to spend a lot of time in the arcade."
I dropped the pen. I wasn't going to get any Biology notes today. I'm working on my Chemistry.
"Oh, do you spend a lot of time in there yourself?" I politely asked.
"No, I hate arcade games." she responded.
My heart sunk. There is no way now we could have anything in common.
"Oh, I'm sure they're fun. I'm just not good at them. I like psychology, studying behavior, trials, speeches, and lectures. I‘m a scientist. I usually spend my time watching people."
"So, you're a stalker." I responded.
She laughed quietly to not disturb the class and the droning instructor.
"Well, in a way you might say that."
I decided to drop the bait and hope she bites. "Say, maybe we could do something sometime." I said.
"Well, I have a class right after this one. How about we meet for lunch at one and we can talk it over." she asked.
"Sounds great." I replied, then turned back to my notes.
After class ended, we waved good bye and I took off to my studying area: the arcade. After quickly memorizing everything we had done that day I went and watched the brightly flashing screens and even played a few myself. I was right in the heat of a game when I quickly glanced over at the clock. It was 1:05.
"Shoot." I grumbled. Pulling my hands away from the joy sticks with all of my will, I grabbed my books and darted to the cafeteria, where Tammy was waiting for me. We walked in as she turned to me.
"Are you usually late?" she asked with a smile.
Reluctantly, I nodded. "Time and I don't get along very well." I admitted.
"You should set your watch ahead five minutes. Then you'll always be early."
"Right." I smiled.
We sat down to our lunches after paying at a small table.
"So tell me, how does a movie sound?" I asked.
"Too violent, I hate violence." she replied before taking a gulp from her glass.
Okay, there's something else we don't have in common.
"Well, what do you recommend?" I asked, taking a bite out of my sandwich.
She looked up in thought. "How about the ballet?"
"How about a basketball game?" I replied.
She sighed. "This isn't going too well." She leaned on her side of the table, then looked up with an idea forming in her eyes. I didn't like the look of it at all.
"How about going to Salt Lake to hear Seth Hackshaw and The Suicides at the Salt Palace?"
I nearly fell out of my seat. "Hackshaw? The serial killer? Why would you want to go hear him?"
"Accused serial killer.” She corrected. “Besides, the man is a genius." she spoke excitedly, holding her hands up. "I have all his CDs, history, magazine articles, and reviews about him. It just may be my only chance to really hear them. Take me there, please?”
I looked across the table at her with a scowl of doubt, but her tantalizing eyes beckoned, lulled me under their hypnotic spell. Her lips enticed me to come closer. I slapped myself again and blinked, and regretted the he words as they leaped from my mouth.
"All right, we‘1l go there." I half-heartedly grumbled.
She smiled at me and grabbed my hands with her warm ones. "Thank you. You won‘t be sorry, they're really good." she spoke with a smile.
Yeah yeah, right. "When and where do I pick you up?" I asked.
"I'll write it down for you." she said and pulled out a slip of paper from her purse. "It's a small house on the outskirts of Palmyra. Pick me up at 4:30 so we can get there on time. Don't forget and don't be late." she stood up and walked away, smiling back at me. I picked up the paper she had written on. 'See ya Friday' was written on it along with the directions to her house. Our first date and she's already me going all the way to Salt Lake.
I sighed. Yeah yeah, right.
I quickly finished my lunch, grabbed my books, and headed for my next class.
“You have a date?" Roy asked in surprise later.
"Yes, I do." I remarked.
"And you're going to see The Suicides?” Steve interjected, leaning back in his chair while sipping his soda. “Scary. Not my idea of a first date."
"A date with death." Kevin joked as he slapped on the TV and sat down.
"It's not going to be like that at all. It‘ll just be a quiet little date. What could possibly go wrong?" I asked.
"Seth could go crazy and start chopping people up into little pieces." Roy said, sitting down next to Kevin.
"You know, I heard that he killed some people with an ax." Steve replied.
"I heard he did it with a hacksaw." Kevin said sternly.
"And I heard he did it with sarcasm." I replied sarcastically. "Nothing is going to go wrong."
"But what if something does?" Roy asked.
"Well," I stuttered, "I'm not thinking about it."
My roommates all smiled at each other, then resumed watching TV. I left them and went on with my business, hoping Murphy's Law had somewhere else to be Friday night.
I had all week to think about Friday. Tammy reminded me every day in Psychology class, which I didn't appreciate. How anyone could look forward to go to a serial killer I just couldn't understand. During that week we got to know each other better. We had lunch together every day and I took her to the arcade. I even brought her to my apartment once to meet the guys. They saw it only as an opportunity to get on our backs again, but Tammy fought them off with twenty minutes of lecturing about Hackshaw's songs. That's to say, they only endured twenty minutes worth before they were wise enough to retreat. I had to endure another ten minutes of it before I could change the subject. We sat and talked what seemed forever before I took her home. I was really glad I had met her.
Friday came at the sound of my alarm. I rolled through my morning routine and was off to school. In class, Tammy once again sat of her was a pure delight until she down next to me. The vision opened her mouth.
"Thinking about tonight?" she asked innocently.
I paused for a moment to reflect on the comforting thought of having my guts wrenched out with a tuning fork by a demented mad man while busily singing Socrates.
I turned to her and smiled. "Sure, sounds like fun." I whimpered.
She patted my arm. "It won't be that bad. Seth Hackshaw is really a nice, intelligent man. You have nothing to worry about." she said with a smile.
"I'll be the judge of that tonight.” I grumbled under my breath as the instructor walked in and started class.
I spent the day with her as usual until I went home. I watched the clock as if it were about to sign my death warrant and seal my doom. Then I stopped and laughed to myself. Tammy is a smart, clever girl. If she thinks there is nothing to worry about, then there isn't.
I hoped.
Soon enough I found myself getting ready. Jumping in my car, which I rarely used, I drove to pick her up. The directions she gave me took me away from any city and out into the farmlands. For miles there was nothing to focus on but endless fields of crops. I drove forever along a road that led to nowhere, but then I saw it. A quiet, blue, two story house in sight.
I went to the door, knocked, and waited. I looked around while waiting for an answer. There was literally nothing in sight but miles and miles of tall, farming fields of... wheat? What was that tall, tan grass? I didn't know, but why anyone would live two dozen miles from the nearest fork in the road I could not understand. The commute to school must be a killer to the wallet and the clock. If anyone got lost, the only one anyone could ask for directions from was a cow.
Finally, she answered. She was beautifully dressed in a red dress with a black jacket. Her shoes and nylons were white to match the flower in her hair. I stood gasping with awe as she stood in the door. I thought she was dressed for the concert… and to kill, also; no pun intended.
“You said red, white, and black were your favorite colors.” she said.
I tried to organize my thoughts. "Yeah, but they look better on you than they do on me." I blurted. Then I offered her my arm and we were on our way.
The trip to Salt Lake would have been a most boring one if she hadn't been there. She brought a bunch of her favorite The Suicides CDs and she walked me through the band’s histories. She wanted me to be educated and aware so that I could enjoy the concert, too. I had to admit, as rock music went it was not that bad. We enjoyed the scenery and each other's company until we finally arrived at the Salt Palace. With all the people there, we had a hard time trying to find a parking place. Once inside, we found it harder to find our seats. But soon we did and sat down to enjoy the evening.
I scanned around me. Police officers were scattered everywhere, each speaking into their walkie talkies to some other cop. I could only assume plainclothes FBI agents were also mixed in among the audience, as well. I sunk lower in my seat. For all the airs of a regular rock concert, there was certainly the foreboding of something bad, lethal, and permanent about to happen. I tried not to think about it as hundreds of people flocked in. Within no time the conference hall became crowded and stuffy with thousands of groupies, fans, and rock lovers.
Soon the lights dimmed and a loud voice announced Seth Hackshaw. Spotlights flashed around the audience in a carnival atmosphere while colored strobes flashed, blinding the audience. A hap-hazard cacophony of music blared over the speakers. All lights then died, replaced by hundreds of black lights, to create a ghostly glow from the audience’s white-lined wardrobes. Tammy went ballistic with excitement. The white flower in her hair and her nylons emblazoned with ethereal power. That’s when I noticed that she had added a bit more makeup I couldn’t originally see: glow in the dark. Her face beautifully shown like the wife of the man-in-the-moon. She had also applied some to her clothes, creating a vivid scene of heavenly clouds and angels. Seth’s name was also applied with the make-up’s touch. Tammy explained on the way down it was intended to signify the change of leaving the mad-cap craziness of the living world behind to surrender to the calm, peaceful life of the world after. I then realized it was not the death aspect she craved from this band, it was the peaceful serenity and the hope of a better life to come.
A curtain down below then parted and the band, already in place behind their instruments, began to play, but the microphone stand was empty. A spotlight cut through the darkness from the front of the stage to the back of the auditorium. Everyone turned around to see Seth Hackshaw, standing at the top of the massive stadium on an erected platform. Both I and the cops watched carefully at him as a thunderous applause arose from the throng of visitors and admirers, including from Tammy who was so anxious to hear from her idol. He wore jeans and shoes, but stood bare chested with his arms open wide, as if he wanted to embrace the whole audience… or show the officers he didn’t have any weapons on him. His eyes were dark and sunken, his cheeks sallow, and his skin pale: the very face of death. He had long, black, shoulder-length, straight hair that looked oily, reminding me of a raven about to take flight. As if he knew what I was thinking he stepped off of the platform out into the open air. Everyone shouted, either with surprise or delight as he glided like a ghost down a suspension system to his place on the stage below. During his decent, the spotlight turned off and the black lights lit Seth up to look like a haunting specter. It was then I realized the subconscious use of his imagery; his selling point. He had just performed a visual act of possible suicide, jumping off of the side of a building, but he had portrayed it as a peaceful thing; something to be enjoyed, welcomed. A peaceful act, a doorway to a better life and not to be feared. Man, this guy was twisted! No many so many people were so confused by their songs.
Seth landed and stage hands wearing black to make them appear invisible detached him from his see-through harness. He then approached the microphone as it nestled in its cradle. He stood straight with both hands on the mic and gazed around him with a smile. “Good evening Salt Lake City and welcome,” he spoke, his voice low, welcoming, and ominous. His eyes were happy and cheerful as he breathed in the air around him. From where I was sitting, I had no reason to fear this man. Seth raised his right hand and began to sing.
"Saddam Huissen was a cruel dictator. That's what he was. Why live in a world where such sorrow stands supreme?"
He then sang long and strongly about the various wars on the earth, and looking around me I could tell that the people listening were deeply involved and impressed with his thoughts and ideas. Between his songs we would speak on the issues the songs were about; war, disease, poverty, bigotry, hatred, starvation, lack of education, and politics’ disinterest in solving these problems. While he spoke, he drummed his fingers on the side of his legs, to set a rhythm for the upcoming beat: the two outside fingers, the two inside fingers, and then the index finger last. Each song was based on the various ways of taking one’s life as a way of ending each person’s suffering. They included strangulation, drowning, bleeding out, poison, and more. Each song portrayed the passing as a way of ending suffering and passing into a portal of peace. They contained beautifully haunting melodies that spoke of hope and joy in the hereafter, being reunited with lost loved ones, and an end to suffering. During each song, a visual scenario was portrayed, depicting the suicide-scenario as a positive event and placing a powerful, positive message on the act.
I could not believe it. The whole thing was sick. Such, the music was swaying, catchy, and inviting, but that just made it all the more terrifying. As an additional selling tool, each person would have their favorite song; the perfect soundtrack to play on never-ending repeat mode while they ended their lives. As if somehow that would help make the transition any easier. As beautiful as Tammy was I suddenly lost all respect for her. The exit sign suddenly couldn’t come any faster. Wow, and I thought psychology was boring!
Once in a while I would look around at the police officers to see them periodically talking into their walkie talkies and searching for any signs of potential foul-play. I sat back and listened to the music, fighting the urge to get pulled in, also.
Forty five minutes into the concert, something unexpected happened. A noticed groups of stage hands appearing on the various rows of the audience, all wearing black and carrying something in their hands. They were quickly approached by the police and others wearing suits and civilian clothing to pat them down. Activity on their radio sets escalated to a buzz.
Seth was coming up on the chorus for his romantic song about deadly injections when he suddenly the stage’s spotlight flashed on Tammy and I, blinding us and blocking out effects of the black light’s glow. Everyone turned and stared directly at Tammy, cheering, while I stared dumfounded at the surrounding crowd. Tammy slowly stood up and faced Hackshaw, holding her hands together. Around us, the cops spoke into their walkie talkies and pointed to Seth and Tammy. None of this was in my original bargain! I just squirmed away, trying to get out of the light as police officers moved in to protect Tammy, who was now expected to sing the well-known chorus with the rock star. Behind the band, a large screen showed a life-sized picture of Tammy, standing on stage. On the screen, I could see part of myself squirming to stay out of the spotlight and camera. One the show’s staff rushed down the row to her with a wireless microphone, and after being checked over by the police, he handed it to her. Tammy accepted it shyly, and started to sing with Seth. The audience roared.
As they sang, Seth turned to walk back to the large plasma screen, where he stood side-by-side with Tammy. Standing next to me, Tammy turned so that on the screen it looked like the two of them were facing and singing to each other. Seth held up his hand, as if he were singing to her and she mimicked his movements.
It was creepy, endearing, scary, and alluring at the same time.
The big finish to the song came and Seth did something that shocked me: he leaned in for a pretend kiss to Tammy’s tv image. I looked up at her for an even bigger shock. She kissed him back. In front of thousands of miss-minded suicide groupies my date was kissing an accused serial killer. They just finished singing about suicide via syringe, for crying out loud!
“Thank you, miss,” called Seth when their fake affection ended, “Let's give her a big hand!"
After the throng of applause and Tammy’s blushing died off, the spotlight vanished. A huge splotch of haunting white momentarily handicapped my vision while Tammy leaned over to me.
"Isn't this exciting!" she whispered.
Yeah, yeah. Right.
"It's great." I responded as I peered through the fading glare down at Hackshaw. The song was over, but the creep-singer continued to stare up at us.
Seth called on more people to sing, shining the spotlight and pointing the camera at them and everything, but to me, his attention remained on Tammy the rest of the performance. That wise countenance I felt comfortable with before now frightened me. I could almost see the thoughts of murder churning in his mind. With his song playlists he had plenty of possible options to end us. I shivered as I pictured him hunting us down with a cold, lifeless knife in hand. This is beyond Goth!
“Excuse me.” A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind, erasing my visions and causing me to jump. “Sorry to alarm you and your girlfriend.” I turned around and looked up to see a suited man waiting to address me. My fears subsided when I saw the FBI badge in his hand.
"Agent Hawthorn, FBI." he spoke as Tammy turned around, “As you may or may not know, we are investigating Seth Hackshaw into the possible murders of at least twelve people but don’t have any leads. We’re trying to build a profile against him and we could use your help.”
Tammy uttered an astonished cry and raised her hand to her mouth in shock at the news. I turned to comfort her, and was confused when I thought I saw the traces of a smile behind her hand.
“How can we help?” she was quick and excited to ask.
"Most of Hackshaw’s fans defend him but you two don’t look like his average audience.”
I snorted. “Ya got that right.” I guess my body language was proudly exclaiming that I had no love for the guy, his music, or his message. “What do you want?”
Agent Hawthorne continued, “We believe he is provoked by affection, so we would like to ask you to kiss your date."
Wow.
"What? Right here? Now?" I stammered.
“It would really help us out.” the agent reassured.
"I don't even know her." I argued while Tammy tugged on my sleeve to get my attention. "I just met her last week!"
"Hey Keith, it’s okay." Tammy said.
Wow.
I looked as if she’d just announced that she was made of glass and only filled with liquid to make her look human.
"What?" I asked surprised.
She nodded, then looked at me. “You do know how to kiss, don't you?"
Let's not get personal.
"Of course," I blurted.
Her name was Lisa. But that was another story. We would do it for fun and to say good bye.
No big deal.
“Well, would you please hurry?” the cop responded.
After seeing Tammy’s sighing reaction over the psycho Seth’s singing I was pretty sure the last place I wanted my lips to go was where those words last wandered from. I was already deciding to consign this as ‘the worst date ever.’ Sighing, I turned to her, curled my hand gently around her head, leaned over, and closed my eyes.
Every nerve in my frame suddenly fizzled out. A huge alarm in my head started screaming from the touch. My eyes wanted to flip open, but I think they were welded shut. My toes stretched out as if I stepped into a tub filled with angry electric eels.
With much unwilling effort, I pulled myself away, feeling dizzy. Lisa never kissed like that!
I turned to Seth and forced my eyes open. After the blurred picture focused, I saw Seth with a violently vengeful face, staring straight at us. I suddenly regretted the act I participated in and slunk down back in my seat.
"You've all been a great audience for me tonight,” called Seth Hackshaw from the stage, “but it's time to bring this to a close. I hope to see you all at my next concert." The curtain then dropped and he disappeared it with a wave of his hand. The guy in the seat next to Tammy threw his hands up.
“Bogus!” he cried, “He was right in the middle of the song!”
“I’m going to demand my money back,” called another.
The lights in the arena all came up and that was the agent's cue. “I’m sorry, but for your own protection we’ll have to escort you out.” He grabbed us out of our seats and led us to a small group of police officers. Surrounded by them, we were led out of the stadium into the halls while other police officers directed the crowds a different way. I could see other suited agents and armed police groups escorting the other solo acts away, down different directions. Agent Hawthorne asked for our parking location and quickly escorted us there, where he then addressed us.
"I’m sorry, but I believe you two are both in serious danger. These officers will escort you home where they will stay with you until we think it will be safe,” he said in hurried tones. Another cop ran and spoke to him while Tammy looked up.
"But won't he be escorted back to his hotel?" she asked.
"Look, I’ve been investigating this man across seven states and I’ve never seen him respond like this before. Every little bit helps us to understand his motives and how he works. If I’m right, he may have chosen you as his next victim.”
“But he was only accused of those murders.” Tammy argued.
“Look, I’m sorry, but just because he was acquitted doesn’t mean he didn’t do it.” Agent Hawthorne defended.
That seemed to take Tammy aback, but she surprised me again as she stood up straight and looked him in the eye. “Whatever we can do to help.”
I was confused. Did she like this Seth Hackshaw guy or not?
“Thank you,” Agent Hawthorne accepted, “As long as he is in town you two may be still be in danger. He has two more performances, so until he leaves, we’ll need to keep you together.”
Say that again?
“Excuse me?” I asked, groping for an explanation.
“I’m sorry, son, but keeping you together is the best way to protect you. Think of it as protective custody.”
Agent Hawthorne started to walk away.
“Wait!” I called, “How do we reach you if we need you?”
He stopped to hand me his card.
“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over before you know it.” The agent smiled and walked away, bringing his radio to his mouth to talk about operations with someone else. I looked at Tammy, who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
“Well, at least you’ll never forget this date.”
“Nope,” I agreed. “Not even with the therapy that’ll come after it.”
I opened my car’s door and she laughed as she climbed in. I didn’t think it was funny. I was being honest. I started the engine and began to drive. Several police vehicles pulled in behind us with their lights flashing. We rode through the streets, which were barricaded off so we could get through easily. We hit the freeway ramp and were on our way home in the dark night.
Unimaginable. I'll have to call my roommates and tell them I'm okay. Okay now, but for how long? That guy could be following us right now. Maybe drop a bomb on us from a helicopter. This was not the date I had intended!
We rode home in silence, unlike the way up. I watched her as she stared out the window as the cars followed behind and ahead of us like patrolling dogs. Their lights kept shining in my eyes, so I adjusted the rear view mirror. That kept some of the light out, I sighed. After a while, Tammy fell asleep and I was glad. It was soon going to be crazy soon, so she might as well get all the sleep she could get. I shuddered and turned on the heater. Tammy stirred, then looked up and placed her hand over the heater.
"It's cold." she said tiredly.
I really didn't want to wake her. "Sorry, it takes a while to warm up."
She looked out the window at the patrol vehicles running interference ahead of us. “Standard procedure,” she mumbled.
"Hey," he asked out loud, not expecting an answer, "how do they know where to go?"
"They’re cops,” she responded, almost bored, “All they have to do is plug in your license plate number. It tells them everything they need to know about you. And me."
"Then that means Hackshaw could find out where you live, too." I whispered in fear.
“Possible.” She mumbled.
Again, I was confused. “You sound pretty convinced.”
Now it was her turn to scoff. “I’d better.”
“Okay, how come?”
She looked over at me, a little disbelieving. “I’m a Criminal Sciences student. My major is Criminal Psychology.”
I blinked, trying to absorb this new information. Psychology class, oh... “So, when you said you were a fan of Seth Hackshaw…”
She turned away, almost embarrassed again. “I’ve long believed he was guilty of those other murders. He’s a superstar, in the limelight and headlines every day, but he still walks free. He’s a hobby. No, more like homework. That Agent Hawthorne,” she threw a thumb over her shoulder, “said he was trying to build a psychological profile so he could catch him. I already have.”
Again, she allowed me a brief pause while my brain caught up with me.
“That’s what the glow-in-the-dark makeup was for. You were trying to get his attention.”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “He’s an arrogant, glory hog. How can you not be, when you can get away with murder state after state? He’s not just mocking the system, he’s using it to his advantage.”
“I did notice his quiet advertising on how to get the audience to kill themselves to his music.”
“Now imagine these already sad people listening to his music over and over again. The brain can’t tell the different between entertainment and teaching. Well, I learned more about him from that one concert than all of my studies combined.”
“I saw how you lit up like a candle when that agent flashed his badge.”
A brief smile dawned and then faded on her lips. “Yeah, I want to work for the FBI.”
“Well, you say you’ve got a profile on his. Maybe you can give it to them.”
She looked over at me, looking tired and sad. “You’re sweet, but I’m just a student.”
I caught her eye quickly, as to not take my eyes off of the road. “Hey, your profile got both of their attentions.”
She smiled faintly again. Well, at least my respect for her was back where it once was. I reached in my pocket and handed her the agent’s card. Her smile now became genuine and her eyes softened as she accepted it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” One last thing I had to make sure of. “So, you’re not a groupie, you’re…”
She sighed again. “Hoping to catch him. But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for. I wanted Seth Hackshaw, and now I might have him.”
I reached out, touching her comfortingly on the shoulder. "Seth Hackshaw is dozens of miles behind us now with walls and badges between us and him. You're going to be safe." I assured her.
“Forgive my pessimism, but you don’t know him like I do.” Sighing, she fell asleep again, not seeming convinced and leaving me alone with my driving.
My smile quickly faded. I wasn’t convinced either.
Seth Hackshaw was sitting in his confined hotel room. He stared at the wall, waiting. The door was locked from the inside with two patrolmen guarding the door. Their claim was for his ‘own protection.’ He was totally confined.
Then the turn of a key sounded and the door opened. Hackshaw stood up and moved to the back of the luxurious room as the patrol men watched for any sudden moves. They moved aside as his lawyer, Shaun Brown walked in. He was a tall man with gray and black streaked hair, beard, and mustache. He walked bent over a bit and with a slight limp. A small pair of glasses hung on the tip of his long nose. His soft brown eyes gazed at the accused murderer, then walked in.
"That was a wonderful performance tonight. How did it go?"
"I went just fine." Seth answered.
"I told you that you could continue on with your tour. Let’s go over your documents." He walked further into the room, carrying a large bag. As soon as the door was closed behind them Seth dove for the bag as Shaun sat on the bed. Shaun reached in his coat and pulled out some papers. Seth opened the bag to find make up, wigs, and other assortments. He instantly started to work as Shaun read from the papers.
"Her name is Tammy Hendr...."
"I don't care about her name. Just tell me where she lives.” Seth exclaimed softly.
"Well, read them for yourself.” Shaun tossed the papers on the bed and went to gaze out the outside window as Seth brushed his face with blush. "I've been helping you now for several years. I defending you in court to give you a life. And what do you do? Go right back to killing. It’s only a matter of time and you’ll make a mistake. Then I won’t be able to protect you anymore." Shaun Brown then turned to face him.
Seth was spraying his hair with a gray spray, making it look older. He stared up at the older men. "I gave you your career. I promised I’d make you headline famous, and I have! You’ve made legal history-we’ve gotten away with murder!” Seth let out a small laugh, “No one ever thought to place the accused lawyer on the witness stand.”
“I’m telling you,” Shaun stated, “you can’t pull this off and get back in time for your next performance! She lives too far away.”
Seth grunted. “That’s what understudies are for. No one can the difference between me and him, anyway.” He paused to turn and stare at the old lawyer. “Everything you are you owe to me.”
Shaun hesitated, then spoke, determined. “Well, I’m ending it. Not any more, not with my help. I'm resigning as your accomplice and alibi.”
“Then when I'm done with her, I'll come back for you." He resumed his makeup application and laughed. "Or maybe I'll kill you now." A grim smile speared across his face as he reached for the lamp. A frightened expression spread across Shaun Brown's face as the cord was tightly wrapped around Seth's knuckles.
Minutes later, the door opened. One of the officers faced the door with his hand on his gun’s but as Shaun Brown walked out. The officers looked in the dark room to see a bundle wrapped under the bed covers.
"Everything okay?” one of them asked.
Shaun chuckled. "He's always tired after a performance. Out like a light."
"It’s nothing." the other cop replied as Shaun walked out and down the hall, clutching the bag and papers under his arm. Seth, in perfect disguise, shuffled easily down the hall, while the unsuspecting officers guarded an almost empty room.
It was around 1:00 AM when we got to Tammy's house. The cars pulled up and surrounded the small parking lot in front of her house before we walked in. A few cops stayed outside for protection. I went in the house and called Roy, telling him to bring some of my stuff over. Sometime later, he drove up. The cops had a fit, spreading him out on his own car and patting him down at gunpoint. I vouched for him and they went through my bag, searched his car, and did a background check on Roy. Roy, concerned for my safety, told me to be careful. I then made him promise not to tell anybody what was going on. He promised, but couldn’t vouch for the news, and drove away. I went back in the house and sat down in front of the TV, hoping to catch some news, and hoping they wouldn't mention anything about us. After Tammy changed her clothes, she came over and sat down next to me.
Every station was talking about what happened, in as much limited detail as they either had or could make up. The two guys sitting next to Tammy were being interviewed with the full story on one station. Fortunately, they didn’t know anything about her outside what she looked like. They described her as a, ‘really knarly chic with the glow-in-the-dark, weird outfit and got to virtual-kiss Seth.’ One of the guys mentioned how jealous he was, which made Tammy even more upset. "I wish we never went to that concert." she mumbled.
"Look," I told her, "these men are here to protect us. Nothing is going to happen. I think I'll go to bed."
"There's a guest room at the end of the hall at the top of the stairs." she told me as I stood up and walked away.
"See you in the morning." I called down to her as I climbed the stairs. Tammy called after me with a weak smile. “Thank you for the date.”
I shook my head. “Apparently, it’s not over yet.”
She sighed as I climbed the stairs. "How am I supposed to make breakfast for all these people?"
I thought I was asleep, but I could feel the wind in my face. I was driving down the highway with Tammy beside me. The police officers were following lazily around us. Although we were moving, the engine wasn't running. I tried to start the engine, but nothing happened. Then I heard a sound above
me. Looking through the roof of the car, I could see Seth Hackshaw diving down at us on a rappelling line from a helicopter, wielding a huge kitchen knife. Desperately, I tried to start the car again as he swooped down in front of us. The police cars did nothing to stop him as I tried to start the engine. Another glance showed that the police cars were manned only by mannequins. My fingers ached with the attempt, and I swore to the object as sweat streamed down my face. I looked up to see Hackshaw's evil grin spread across his face. He dove onto the hood, pulled back his fist, and drove the knife through the windshield, cutting off Tammy's head. I cried out in horror as the mannequin’s head fell into its lap. Seth then looked at me, insanity flashing across his evil face. I strained on the key one last time, and the engine started. Just as the key turned, a huge explosion was heard, and all the police cars exploded into a torrent of flames.
I sat up straight in bed with a cry. I looked around for injury, then was satisfied that it was only a dream. Sighing, I got out of bed and got dressed. I left my room and went downstairs with the smell of bacon floating up to me. I sat down at the counter with two police officers talking and eating. Neither looked familiar to me.
The next performance on tour was to be in Salt Lake City, Utah; my state capital. The Suicides’ show was to be monitored by dozens of police officers that would have the hall surrounded. The operation was monitored and controlled by Federal agents. Afterwards, the band would then be escorted back to their hotel for ‘their own protection.’ It was supposed to be a routine, cautionary job, but they never counted on his accomplice.
My name is Keith Murdock. I live in an apartment near Brigham Young University, where I go to school. When I heard about The Suicides performance, I decided to avoid it at all costs. Being in the same room with a potential serial killer was not my idea of a good time. But fate likes to play games with life, so I never counted on Monday.
It started out as a regular boring morning. My first class was at ten, so I slept in, despite Roy, one of my roommates, noisily shaving in the nearby bathroom. At ten, my alarm went off and I got up, slowly. I usually get up at eleven fifteen. Roy thinks I'm a rock. I will sleep completely sound, but at the slightest sound I will instantly wake up with complete energy. I got dressed after I had taken a shower, then ate breakfast. My other roommates were already up and gone. After breakfast, I grabbed my books and walked to school, avoiding the traffic the best I could as a pedestrian.
I walked into the class, Psychology, and took a seat at the end of the table so I could get out of there fast when class was over. A small, blonde haired woman sat next to me. I didn't pay much attention, like normal, as I started thumbing through my book and organizing my notes. Our instructor walked in and class started. He began writing notes on the board and I went for my pencil.
I was about to write when I noticed the lead was broken. I scoped around the room for a pencil sharpener, with no luck. A pen was then handed to me by the small woman on my right. I looked up to her as I took the pen. Her blue eyes sparkled with shimmering highlights. Her face shone with an inner beauty and excitement. Her hair was combed back and glistening like fair honey. Her lips, toned to a tulips hue. They...moved.
"Here, borrow my pen." her sweet voice sung. I was in a state of shock at her, and mentally slapped myself.
"Uh, thanks." I whispered, taking the pen and started to take notes.
"Tammy." she said.
I looked up. "What?"
"My name's Tammy. Tammy Hendrickson."
I nodded. "Oh, the name's Keith Murdock." I reached over and shook her hand, then resumed with the note taking.
"I've seen you around a lot." she continued. "You like to spend a lot of time in the arcade."
I dropped the pen. I wasn't going to get any Biology notes today. I'm working on my Chemistry.
"Oh, do you spend a lot of time in there yourself?" I politely asked.
"No, I hate arcade games." she responded.
My heart sunk. There is no way now we could have anything in common.
"Oh, I'm sure they're fun. I'm just not good at them. I like psychology, studying behavior, trials, speeches, and lectures. I‘m a scientist. I usually spend my time watching people."
"So, you're a stalker." I responded.
She laughed quietly to not disturb the class and the droning instructor.
"Well, in a way you might say that."
I decided to drop the bait and hope she bites. "Say, maybe we could do something sometime." I said.
"Well, I have a class right after this one. How about we meet for lunch at one and we can talk it over." she asked.
"Sounds great." I replied, then turned back to my notes.
After class ended, we waved good bye and I took off to my studying area: the arcade. After quickly memorizing everything we had done that day I went and watched the brightly flashing screens and even played a few myself. I was right in the heat of a game when I quickly glanced over at the clock. It was 1:05.
"Shoot." I grumbled. Pulling my hands away from the joy sticks with all of my will, I grabbed my books and darted to the cafeteria, where Tammy was waiting for me. We walked in as she turned to me.
"Are you usually late?" she asked with a smile.
Reluctantly, I nodded. "Time and I don't get along very well." I admitted.
"You should set your watch ahead five minutes. Then you'll always be early."
"Right." I smiled.
We sat down to our lunches after paying at a small table.
"So tell me, how does a movie sound?" I asked.
"Too violent, I hate violence." she replied before taking a gulp from her glass.
Okay, there's something else we don't have in common.
"Well, what do you recommend?" I asked, taking a bite out of my sandwich.
She looked up in thought. "How about the ballet?"
"How about a basketball game?" I replied.
She sighed. "This isn't going too well." She leaned on her side of the table, then looked up with an idea forming in her eyes. I didn't like the look of it at all.
"How about going to Salt Lake to hear Seth Hackshaw and The Suicides at the Salt Palace?"
I nearly fell out of my seat. "Hackshaw? The serial killer? Why would you want to go hear him?"
"Accused serial killer.” She corrected. “Besides, the man is a genius." she spoke excitedly, holding her hands up. "I have all his CDs, history, magazine articles, and reviews about him. It just may be my only chance to really hear them. Take me there, please?”
I looked across the table at her with a scowl of doubt, but her tantalizing eyes beckoned, lulled me under their hypnotic spell. Her lips enticed me to come closer. I slapped myself again and blinked, and regretted the he words as they leaped from my mouth.
"All right, we‘1l go there." I half-heartedly grumbled.
She smiled at me and grabbed my hands with her warm ones. "Thank you. You won‘t be sorry, they're really good." she spoke with a smile.
Yeah yeah, right. "When and where do I pick you up?" I asked.
"I'll write it down for you." she said and pulled out a slip of paper from her purse. "It's a small house on the outskirts of Palmyra. Pick me up at 4:30 so we can get there on time. Don't forget and don't be late." she stood up and walked away, smiling back at me. I picked up the paper she had written on. 'See ya Friday' was written on it along with the directions to her house. Our first date and she's already me going all the way to Salt Lake.
I sighed. Yeah yeah, right.
I quickly finished my lunch, grabbed my books, and headed for my next class.
“You have a date?" Roy asked in surprise later.
"Yes, I do." I remarked.
"And you're going to see The Suicides?” Steve interjected, leaning back in his chair while sipping his soda. “Scary. Not my idea of a first date."
"A date with death." Kevin joked as he slapped on the TV and sat down.
"It's not going to be like that at all. It‘ll just be a quiet little date. What could possibly go wrong?" I asked.
"Seth could go crazy and start chopping people up into little pieces." Roy said, sitting down next to Kevin.
"You know, I heard that he killed some people with an ax." Steve replied.
"I heard he did it with a hacksaw." Kevin said sternly.
"And I heard he did it with sarcasm." I replied sarcastically. "Nothing is going to go wrong."
"But what if something does?" Roy asked.
"Well," I stuttered, "I'm not thinking about it."
My roommates all smiled at each other, then resumed watching TV. I left them and went on with my business, hoping Murphy's Law had somewhere else to be Friday night.
I had all week to think about Friday. Tammy reminded me every day in Psychology class, which I didn't appreciate. How anyone could look forward to go to a serial killer I just couldn't understand. During that week we got to know each other better. We had lunch together every day and I took her to the arcade. I even brought her to my apartment once to meet the guys. They saw it only as an opportunity to get on our backs again, but Tammy fought them off with twenty minutes of lecturing about Hackshaw's songs. That's to say, they only endured twenty minutes worth before they were wise enough to retreat. I had to endure another ten minutes of it before I could change the subject. We sat and talked what seemed forever before I took her home. I was really glad I had met her.
Friday came at the sound of my alarm. I rolled through my morning routine and was off to school. In class, Tammy once again sat of her was a pure delight until she down next to me. The vision opened her mouth.
"Thinking about tonight?" she asked innocently.
I paused for a moment to reflect on the comforting thought of having my guts wrenched out with a tuning fork by a demented mad man while busily singing Socrates.
I turned to her and smiled. "Sure, sounds like fun." I whimpered.
She patted my arm. "It won't be that bad. Seth Hackshaw is really a nice, intelligent man. You have nothing to worry about." she said with a smile.
"I'll be the judge of that tonight.” I grumbled under my breath as the instructor walked in and started class.
I spent the day with her as usual until I went home. I watched the clock as if it were about to sign my death warrant and seal my doom. Then I stopped and laughed to myself. Tammy is a smart, clever girl. If she thinks there is nothing to worry about, then there isn't.
I hoped.
Soon enough I found myself getting ready. Jumping in my car, which I rarely used, I drove to pick her up. The directions she gave me took me away from any city and out into the farmlands. For miles there was nothing to focus on but endless fields of crops. I drove forever along a road that led to nowhere, but then I saw it. A quiet, blue, two story house in sight.
I went to the door, knocked, and waited. I looked around while waiting for an answer. There was literally nothing in sight but miles and miles of tall, farming fields of... wheat? What was that tall, tan grass? I didn't know, but why anyone would live two dozen miles from the nearest fork in the road I could not understand. The commute to school must be a killer to the wallet and the clock. If anyone got lost, the only one anyone could ask for directions from was a cow.
Finally, she answered. She was beautifully dressed in a red dress with a black jacket. Her shoes and nylons were white to match the flower in her hair. I stood gasping with awe as she stood in the door. I thought she was dressed for the concert… and to kill, also; no pun intended.
“You said red, white, and black were your favorite colors.” she said.
I tried to organize my thoughts. "Yeah, but they look better on you than they do on me." I blurted. Then I offered her my arm and we were on our way.
The trip to Salt Lake would have been a most boring one if she hadn't been there. She brought a bunch of her favorite The Suicides CDs and she walked me through the band’s histories. She wanted me to be educated and aware so that I could enjoy the concert, too. I had to admit, as rock music went it was not that bad. We enjoyed the scenery and each other's company until we finally arrived at the Salt Palace. With all the people there, we had a hard time trying to find a parking place. Once inside, we found it harder to find our seats. But soon we did and sat down to enjoy the evening.
I scanned around me. Police officers were scattered everywhere, each speaking into their walkie talkies to some other cop. I could only assume plainclothes FBI agents were also mixed in among the audience, as well. I sunk lower in my seat. For all the airs of a regular rock concert, there was certainly the foreboding of something bad, lethal, and permanent about to happen. I tried not to think about it as hundreds of people flocked in. Within no time the conference hall became crowded and stuffy with thousands of groupies, fans, and rock lovers.
Soon the lights dimmed and a loud voice announced Seth Hackshaw. Spotlights flashed around the audience in a carnival atmosphere while colored strobes flashed, blinding the audience. A hap-hazard cacophony of music blared over the speakers. All lights then died, replaced by hundreds of black lights, to create a ghostly glow from the audience’s white-lined wardrobes. Tammy went ballistic with excitement. The white flower in her hair and her nylons emblazoned with ethereal power. That’s when I noticed that she had added a bit more makeup I couldn’t originally see: glow in the dark. Her face beautifully shown like the wife of the man-in-the-moon. She had also applied some to her clothes, creating a vivid scene of heavenly clouds and angels. Seth’s name was also applied with the make-up’s touch. Tammy explained on the way down it was intended to signify the change of leaving the mad-cap craziness of the living world behind to surrender to the calm, peaceful life of the world after. I then realized it was not the death aspect she craved from this band, it was the peaceful serenity and the hope of a better life to come.
A curtain down below then parted and the band, already in place behind their instruments, began to play, but the microphone stand was empty. A spotlight cut through the darkness from the front of the stage to the back of the auditorium. Everyone turned around to see Seth Hackshaw, standing at the top of the massive stadium on an erected platform. Both I and the cops watched carefully at him as a thunderous applause arose from the throng of visitors and admirers, including from Tammy who was so anxious to hear from her idol. He wore jeans and shoes, but stood bare chested with his arms open wide, as if he wanted to embrace the whole audience… or show the officers he didn’t have any weapons on him. His eyes were dark and sunken, his cheeks sallow, and his skin pale: the very face of death. He had long, black, shoulder-length, straight hair that looked oily, reminding me of a raven about to take flight. As if he knew what I was thinking he stepped off of the platform out into the open air. Everyone shouted, either with surprise or delight as he glided like a ghost down a suspension system to his place on the stage below. During his decent, the spotlight turned off and the black lights lit Seth up to look like a haunting specter. It was then I realized the subconscious use of his imagery; his selling point. He had just performed a visual act of possible suicide, jumping off of the side of a building, but he had portrayed it as a peaceful thing; something to be enjoyed, welcomed. A peaceful act, a doorway to a better life and not to be feared. Man, this guy was twisted! No many so many people were so confused by their songs.
Seth landed and stage hands wearing black to make them appear invisible detached him from his see-through harness. He then approached the microphone as it nestled in its cradle. He stood straight with both hands on the mic and gazed around him with a smile. “Good evening Salt Lake City and welcome,” he spoke, his voice low, welcoming, and ominous. His eyes were happy and cheerful as he breathed in the air around him. From where I was sitting, I had no reason to fear this man. Seth raised his right hand and began to sing.
"Saddam Huissen was a cruel dictator. That's what he was. Why live in a world where such sorrow stands supreme?"
He then sang long and strongly about the various wars on the earth, and looking around me I could tell that the people listening were deeply involved and impressed with his thoughts and ideas. Between his songs we would speak on the issues the songs were about; war, disease, poverty, bigotry, hatred, starvation, lack of education, and politics’ disinterest in solving these problems. While he spoke, he drummed his fingers on the side of his legs, to set a rhythm for the upcoming beat: the two outside fingers, the two inside fingers, and then the index finger last. Each song was based on the various ways of taking one’s life as a way of ending each person’s suffering. They included strangulation, drowning, bleeding out, poison, and more. Each song portrayed the passing as a way of ending suffering and passing into a portal of peace. They contained beautifully haunting melodies that spoke of hope and joy in the hereafter, being reunited with lost loved ones, and an end to suffering. During each song, a visual scenario was portrayed, depicting the suicide-scenario as a positive event and placing a powerful, positive message on the act.
I could not believe it. The whole thing was sick. Such, the music was swaying, catchy, and inviting, but that just made it all the more terrifying. As an additional selling tool, each person would have their favorite song; the perfect soundtrack to play on never-ending repeat mode while they ended their lives. As if somehow that would help make the transition any easier. As beautiful as Tammy was I suddenly lost all respect for her. The exit sign suddenly couldn’t come any faster. Wow, and I thought psychology was boring!
Once in a while I would look around at the police officers to see them periodically talking into their walkie talkies and searching for any signs of potential foul-play. I sat back and listened to the music, fighting the urge to get pulled in, also.
Forty five minutes into the concert, something unexpected happened. A noticed groups of stage hands appearing on the various rows of the audience, all wearing black and carrying something in their hands. They were quickly approached by the police and others wearing suits and civilian clothing to pat them down. Activity on their radio sets escalated to a buzz.
Seth was coming up on the chorus for his romantic song about deadly injections when he suddenly the stage’s spotlight flashed on Tammy and I, blinding us and blocking out effects of the black light’s glow. Everyone turned and stared directly at Tammy, cheering, while I stared dumfounded at the surrounding crowd. Tammy slowly stood up and faced Hackshaw, holding her hands together. Around us, the cops spoke into their walkie talkies and pointed to Seth and Tammy. None of this was in my original bargain! I just squirmed away, trying to get out of the light as police officers moved in to protect Tammy, who was now expected to sing the well-known chorus with the rock star. Behind the band, a large screen showed a life-sized picture of Tammy, standing on stage. On the screen, I could see part of myself squirming to stay out of the spotlight and camera. One the show’s staff rushed down the row to her with a wireless microphone, and after being checked over by the police, he handed it to her. Tammy accepted it shyly, and started to sing with Seth. The audience roared.
As they sang, Seth turned to walk back to the large plasma screen, where he stood side-by-side with Tammy. Standing next to me, Tammy turned so that on the screen it looked like the two of them were facing and singing to each other. Seth held up his hand, as if he were singing to her and she mimicked his movements.
It was creepy, endearing, scary, and alluring at the same time.
The big finish to the song came and Seth did something that shocked me: he leaned in for a pretend kiss to Tammy’s tv image. I looked up at her for an even bigger shock. She kissed him back. In front of thousands of miss-minded suicide groupies my date was kissing an accused serial killer. They just finished singing about suicide via syringe, for crying out loud!
“Thank you, miss,” called Seth when their fake affection ended, “Let's give her a big hand!"
After the throng of applause and Tammy’s blushing died off, the spotlight vanished. A huge splotch of haunting white momentarily handicapped my vision while Tammy leaned over to me.
"Isn't this exciting!" she whispered.
Yeah, yeah. Right.
"It's great." I responded as I peered through the fading glare down at Hackshaw. The song was over, but the creep-singer continued to stare up at us.
Seth called on more people to sing, shining the spotlight and pointing the camera at them and everything, but to me, his attention remained on Tammy the rest of the performance. That wise countenance I felt comfortable with before now frightened me. I could almost see the thoughts of murder churning in his mind. With his song playlists he had plenty of possible options to end us. I shivered as I pictured him hunting us down with a cold, lifeless knife in hand. This is beyond Goth!
“Excuse me.” A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind, erasing my visions and causing me to jump. “Sorry to alarm you and your girlfriend.” I turned around and looked up to see a suited man waiting to address me. My fears subsided when I saw the FBI badge in his hand.
"Agent Hawthorn, FBI." he spoke as Tammy turned around, “As you may or may not know, we are investigating Seth Hackshaw into the possible murders of at least twelve people but don’t have any leads. We’re trying to build a profile against him and we could use your help.”
Tammy uttered an astonished cry and raised her hand to her mouth in shock at the news. I turned to comfort her, and was confused when I thought I saw the traces of a smile behind her hand.
“How can we help?” she was quick and excited to ask.
"Most of Hackshaw’s fans defend him but you two don’t look like his average audience.”
I snorted. “Ya got that right.” I guess my body language was proudly exclaiming that I had no love for the guy, his music, or his message. “What do you want?”
Agent Hawthorne continued, “We believe he is provoked by affection, so we would like to ask you to kiss your date."
Wow.
"What? Right here? Now?" I stammered.
“It would really help us out.” the agent reassured.
"I don't even know her." I argued while Tammy tugged on my sleeve to get my attention. "I just met her last week!"
"Hey Keith, it’s okay." Tammy said.
Wow.
I looked as if she’d just announced that she was made of glass and only filled with liquid to make her look human.
"What?" I asked surprised.
She nodded, then looked at me. “You do know how to kiss, don't you?"
Let's not get personal.
"Of course," I blurted.
Her name was Lisa. But that was another story. We would do it for fun and to say good bye.
No big deal.
“Well, would you please hurry?” the cop responded.
After seeing Tammy’s sighing reaction over the psycho Seth’s singing I was pretty sure the last place I wanted my lips to go was where those words last wandered from. I was already deciding to consign this as ‘the worst date ever.’ Sighing, I turned to her, curled my hand gently around her head, leaned over, and closed my eyes.
Every nerve in my frame suddenly fizzled out. A huge alarm in my head started screaming from the touch. My eyes wanted to flip open, but I think they were welded shut. My toes stretched out as if I stepped into a tub filled with angry electric eels.
With much unwilling effort, I pulled myself away, feeling dizzy. Lisa never kissed like that!
I turned to Seth and forced my eyes open. After the blurred picture focused, I saw Seth with a violently vengeful face, staring straight at us. I suddenly regretted the act I participated in and slunk down back in my seat.
"You've all been a great audience for me tonight,” called Seth Hackshaw from the stage, “but it's time to bring this to a close. I hope to see you all at my next concert." The curtain then dropped and he disappeared it with a wave of his hand. The guy in the seat next to Tammy threw his hands up.
“Bogus!” he cried, “He was right in the middle of the song!”
“I’m going to demand my money back,” called another.
The lights in the arena all came up and that was the agent's cue. “I’m sorry, but for your own protection we’ll have to escort you out.” He grabbed us out of our seats and led us to a small group of police officers. Surrounded by them, we were led out of the stadium into the halls while other police officers directed the crowds a different way. I could see other suited agents and armed police groups escorting the other solo acts away, down different directions. Agent Hawthorne asked for our parking location and quickly escorted us there, where he then addressed us.
"I’m sorry, but I believe you two are both in serious danger. These officers will escort you home where they will stay with you until we think it will be safe,” he said in hurried tones. Another cop ran and spoke to him while Tammy looked up.
"But won't he be escorted back to his hotel?" she asked.
"Look, I’ve been investigating this man across seven states and I’ve never seen him respond like this before. Every little bit helps us to understand his motives and how he works. If I’m right, he may have chosen you as his next victim.”
“But he was only accused of those murders.” Tammy argued.
“Look, I’m sorry, but just because he was acquitted doesn’t mean he didn’t do it.” Agent Hawthorne defended.
That seemed to take Tammy aback, but she surprised me again as she stood up straight and looked him in the eye. “Whatever we can do to help.”
I was confused. Did she like this Seth Hackshaw guy or not?
“Thank you,” Agent Hawthorne accepted, “As long as he is in town you two may be still be in danger. He has two more performances, so until he leaves, we’ll need to keep you together.”
Say that again?
“Excuse me?” I asked, groping for an explanation.
“I’m sorry, son, but keeping you together is the best way to protect you. Think of it as protective custody.”
Agent Hawthorne started to walk away.
“Wait!” I called, “How do we reach you if we need you?”
He stopped to hand me his card.
“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over before you know it.” The agent smiled and walked away, bringing his radio to his mouth to talk about operations with someone else. I looked at Tammy, who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
“Well, at least you’ll never forget this date.”
“Nope,” I agreed. “Not even with the therapy that’ll come after it.”
I opened my car’s door and she laughed as she climbed in. I didn’t think it was funny. I was being honest. I started the engine and began to drive. Several police vehicles pulled in behind us with their lights flashing. We rode through the streets, which were barricaded off so we could get through easily. We hit the freeway ramp and were on our way home in the dark night.
Unimaginable. I'll have to call my roommates and tell them I'm okay. Okay now, but for how long? That guy could be following us right now. Maybe drop a bomb on us from a helicopter. This was not the date I had intended!
We rode home in silence, unlike the way up. I watched her as she stared out the window as the cars followed behind and ahead of us like patrolling dogs. Their lights kept shining in my eyes, so I adjusted the rear view mirror. That kept some of the light out, I sighed. After a while, Tammy fell asleep and I was glad. It was soon going to be crazy soon, so she might as well get all the sleep she could get. I shuddered and turned on the heater. Tammy stirred, then looked up and placed her hand over the heater.
"It's cold." she said tiredly.
I really didn't want to wake her. "Sorry, it takes a while to warm up."
She looked out the window at the patrol vehicles running interference ahead of us. “Standard procedure,” she mumbled.
"Hey," he asked out loud, not expecting an answer, "how do they know where to go?"
"They’re cops,” she responded, almost bored, “All they have to do is plug in your license plate number. It tells them everything they need to know about you. And me."
"Then that means Hackshaw could find out where you live, too." I whispered in fear.
“Possible.” She mumbled.
Again, I was confused. “You sound pretty convinced.”
Now it was her turn to scoff. “I’d better.”
“Okay, how come?”
She looked over at me, a little disbelieving. “I’m a Criminal Sciences student. My major is Criminal Psychology.”
I blinked, trying to absorb this new information. Psychology class, oh... “So, when you said you were a fan of Seth Hackshaw…”
She turned away, almost embarrassed again. “I’ve long believed he was guilty of those other murders. He’s a superstar, in the limelight and headlines every day, but he still walks free. He’s a hobby. No, more like homework. That Agent Hawthorne,” she threw a thumb over her shoulder, “said he was trying to build a psychological profile so he could catch him. I already have.”
Again, she allowed me a brief pause while my brain caught up with me.
“That’s what the glow-in-the-dark makeup was for. You were trying to get his attention.”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “He’s an arrogant, glory hog. How can you not be, when you can get away with murder state after state? He’s not just mocking the system, he’s using it to his advantage.”
“I did notice his quiet advertising on how to get the audience to kill themselves to his music.”
“Now imagine these already sad people listening to his music over and over again. The brain can’t tell the different between entertainment and teaching. Well, I learned more about him from that one concert than all of my studies combined.”
“I saw how you lit up like a candle when that agent flashed his badge.”
A brief smile dawned and then faded on her lips. “Yeah, I want to work for the FBI.”
“Well, you say you’ve got a profile on his. Maybe you can give it to them.”
She looked over at me, looking tired and sad. “You’re sweet, but I’m just a student.”
I caught her eye quickly, as to not take my eyes off of the road. “Hey, your profile got both of their attentions.”
She smiled faintly again. Well, at least my respect for her was back where it once was. I reached in my pocket and handed her the agent’s card. Her smile now became genuine and her eyes softened as she accepted it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” One last thing I had to make sure of. “So, you’re not a groupie, you’re…”
She sighed again. “Hoping to catch him. But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for. I wanted Seth Hackshaw, and now I might have him.”
I reached out, touching her comfortingly on the shoulder. "Seth Hackshaw is dozens of miles behind us now with walls and badges between us and him. You're going to be safe." I assured her.
“Forgive my pessimism, but you don’t know him like I do.” Sighing, she fell asleep again, not seeming convinced and leaving me alone with my driving.
My smile quickly faded. I wasn’t convinced either.
Seth Hackshaw was sitting in his confined hotel room. He stared at the wall, waiting. The door was locked from the inside with two patrolmen guarding the door. Their claim was for his ‘own protection.’ He was totally confined.
Then the turn of a key sounded and the door opened. Hackshaw stood up and moved to the back of the luxurious room as the patrol men watched for any sudden moves. They moved aside as his lawyer, Shaun Brown walked in. He was a tall man with gray and black streaked hair, beard, and mustache. He walked bent over a bit and with a slight limp. A small pair of glasses hung on the tip of his long nose. His soft brown eyes gazed at the accused murderer, then walked in.
"That was a wonderful performance tonight. How did it go?"
"I went just fine." Seth answered.
"I told you that you could continue on with your tour. Let’s go over your documents." He walked further into the room, carrying a large bag. As soon as the door was closed behind them Seth dove for the bag as Shaun sat on the bed. Shaun reached in his coat and pulled out some papers. Seth opened the bag to find make up, wigs, and other assortments. He instantly started to work as Shaun read from the papers.
"Her name is Tammy Hendr...."
"I don't care about her name. Just tell me where she lives.” Seth exclaimed softly.
"Well, read them for yourself.” Shaun tossed the papers on the bed and went to gaze out the outside window as Seth brushed his face with blush. "I've been helping you now for several years. I defending you in court to give you a life. And what do you do? Go right back to killing. It’s only a matter of time and you’ll make a mistake. Then I won’t be able to protect you anymore." Shaun Brown then turned to face him.
Seth was spraying his hair with a gray spray, making it look older. He stared up at the older men. "I gave you your career. I promised I’d make you headline famous, and I have! You’ve made legal history-we’ve gotten away with murder!” Seth let out a small laugh, “No one ever thought to place the accused lawyer on the witness stand.”
“I’m telling you,” Shaun stated, “you can’t pull this off and get back in time for your next performance! She lives too far away.”
Seth grunted. “That’s what understudies are for. No one can the difference between me and him, anyway.” He paused to turn and stare at the old lawyer. “Everything you are you owe to me.”
Shaun hesitated, then spoke, determined. “Well, I’m ending it. Not any more, not with my help. I'm resigning as your accomplice and alibi.”
“Then when I'm done with her, I'll come back for you." He resumed his makeup application and laughed. "Or maybe I'll kill you now." A grim smile speared across his face as he reached for the lamp. A frightened expression spread across Shaun Brown's face as the cord was tightly wrapped around Seth's knuckles.
Minutes later, the door opened. One of the officers faced the door with his hand on his gun’s but as Shaun Brown walked out. The officers looked in the dark room to see a bundle wrapped under the bed covers.
"Everything okay?” one of them asked.
Shaun chuckled. "He's always tired after a performance. Out like a light."
"It’s nothing." the other cop replied as Shaun walked out and down the hall, clutching the bag and papers under his arm. Seth, in perfect disguise, shuffled easily down the hall, while the unsuspecting officers guarded an almost empty room.
It was around 1:00 AM when we got to Tammy's house. The cars pulled up and surrounded the small parking lot in front of her house before we walked in. A few cops stayed outside for protection. I went in the house and called Roy, telling him to bring some of my stuff over. Sometime later, he drove up. The cops had a fit, spreading him out on his own car and patting him down at gunpoint. I vouched for him and they went through my bag, searched his car, and did a background check on Roy. Roy, concerned for my safety, told me to be careful. I then made him promise not to tell anybody what was going on. He promised, but couldn’t vouch for the news, and drove away. I went back in the house and sat down in front of the TV, hoping to catch some news, and hoping they wouldn't mention anything about us. After Tammy changed her clothes, she came over and sat down next to me.
Every station was talking about what happened, in as much limited detail as they either had or could make up. The two guys sitting next to Tammy were being interviewed with the full story on one station. Fortunately, they didn’t know anything about her outside what she looked like. They described her as a, ‘really knarly chic with the glow-in-the-dark, weird outfit and got to virtual-kiss Seth.’ One of the guys mentioned how jealous he was, which made Tammy even more upset. "I wish we never went to that concert." she mumbled.
"Look," I told her, "these men are here to protect us. Nothing is going to happen. I think I'll go to bed."
"There's a guest room at the end of the hall at the top of the stairs." she told me as I stood up and walked away.
"See you in the morning." I called down to her as I climbed the stairs. Tammy called after me with a weak smile. “Thank you for the date.”
I shook my head. “Apparently, it’s not over yet.”
She sighed as I climbed the stairs. "How am I supposed to make breakfast for all these people?"
I thought I was asleep, but I could feel the wind in my face. I was driving down the highway with Tammy beside me. The police officers were following lazily around us. Although we were moving, the engine wasn't running. I tried to start the engine, but nothing happened. Then I heard a sound above
me. Looking through the roof of the car, I could see Seth Hackshaw diving down at us on a rappelling line from a helicopter, wielding a huge kitchen knife. Desperately, I tried to start the car again as he swooped down in front of us. The police cars did nothing to stop him as I tried to start the engine. Another glance showed that the police cars were manned only by mannequins. My fingers ached with the attempt, and I swore to the object as sweat streamed down my face. I looked up to see Hackshaw's evil grin spread across his face. He dove onto the hood, pulled back his fist, and drove the knife through the windshield, cutting off Tammy's head. I cried out in horror as the mannequin’s head fell into its lap. Seth then looked at me, insanity flashing across his evil face. I strained on the key one last time, and the engine started. Just as the key turned, a huge explosion was heard, and all the police cars exploded into a torrent of flames.
I sat up straight in bed with a cry. I looked around for injury, then was satisfied that it was only a dream. Sighing, I got out of bed and got dressed. I left my room and went downstairs with the smell of bacon floating up to me. I sat down at the counter with two police officers talking and eating. Neither looked familiar to me.