My Soul's Decay

By Josh Blundell

“My Soul's Decay” will take you on a high rise of suspense and thrill. An FBI team was put together to hunt down one person, a serial killer known as the Isotope Killer, who targets American children who are in the system. Agent Bret Williams, second in command of the FBI team, is the killer’s first victim and only survivor. Teresa, Bret Williams’s high school sweetheart, calls Bret in the middle of the most important case of his life, with news that will tip the scales and change Bret. Teresa refuses to leave matters into Bret’s hands and finds herself in the middle of the case and in grave danger. Bret now finding hope and feeling love never experienced before in his life forces himself to his feet and runs out of the flames. Bret now at the hospital, waits at his daughter’s bedside for her to wake up, thinks about the nightmares that haunt him praying they don’t torture his daughter now too. Bret awakens from a nightmare, performs his first fatherly act, still knowing his life will never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365079405

Book preview

My Soul's Decay

My Soul’s Decay

By Josh Blundell

Copyright @ 2016 by Josh Blundell

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2016

ISBN 978-1-365-07940-5

Lulu.com

Prologue

Casper, Wyoming, Salida, Colorado, Santa Fe, New Mexico, Pueblo, Colorado, Chadron, Nebraska, Lamar, Colorado, Dumas, Texas, Valentine, Nebraska, Yankton, Nebraska, Colby, Kansas, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, Concordia, Kansas, Sallisaw, Oklahoma. 

Or

George Cook age 8, Lily Chandler age 9, Gustavo Jimenez age 6, Joyce Dinefield age 5, Ben Winger age 7, Chris Pike age 7, Melisa Gomez age 11, Jessica Green age 8, Jordan Michel Smith age 8, Tasha Gonzales age 7, Clark Rodgers age 6, Stephanie Little age 10, Jesse Clock age 9.

These are the names of the 13 victims who are all American orphan children.

A special FBI task force has been on the case in hopes of soon catching a mass serial killer. The media gave him the name The Isotope Killer. Many others just call him a monster including special agent Bret Williams. The method of operation (M.O.) of the Isotope Killer is first he will kidnap an orphan child then inject straight into the neck a radioactive cocktail, watching his victims die from radiation poisoning, then just hours from death the killer will burn onto his or her chest with HCL an identification number representing a failed experiment. The Isotope Killer makes sure that all of his failed experiments are marked before returning the failed worthless orphan child back to hell where he pulled him or her from. Once he perfected his killing, two years had passed, now he kills on a precise schedule. The killer’s first American orphan child survived because the killer miscalculated the right amount of cocktail injected. An FBI task force was formed after the seventh victim, Melisa Gomez, was found alive in Dumas, Texas, at a public park. After her rescue, she only survived three hours, before she died in the middle of a bone marrow transfer. Now six victims later the task force waits in Sallisaw, Oklahoma, for the Isotope Killer to strike again.

Chapter 1

I wake up from a cold sweat and my upper left chest burning, this has been happening more and more lately, the nightmares, as it was coming up on the two-month mark. I knew that the nightmares and the flashes that tortured me would only get worse as I start to live within the fear of the memory I can’t remember. I look over at my digital clock on the night stand. Four a.m. in the morning well might as well get up, I can get an early start on my day, I thought. The alarm would go off soon anyway, 0430 to be exact. I was not a lazy person, and at 26 years of age, six feet tall, 180-lbs, and one of the most promising FBI agents at the Bureau, there was no room or time in my life for any laziness. I was out of bed and moving towards the coffee maker to start it since I was ahead of schedule and the coffee maker hadn’t turned itself on quite yet. As the coffee was brewing I slipped on sweatpants, jacket, and my running shoes, consumed half a cup of coffee, and was out the door for my two-mile run before work following my normal routine.

I have been living in a small studio apartment for the last month and at a hotel for two weeks before the apartment. After my run I would return to my furbished apartment, completely void of any personal affects because I knew that any day now I would be getting a call which meant I would be moving to the next town or city with the next crime scene, the next Isotope Killer victim. When returning to my studio apartment, I showered only a few minutes and after put on my already laid out clothes: black suit with a light blue shirt and striped tie. Before walking out the door I grab my ID badge, gun (Glock MDL-22) standard-issue 40 caliber, put coffee in a traveling mug, and locked the apartment door. As I was making my way to the company issued black Ford Crown Victorian, I noticed an unusually large number of Harleys and custom made motorcycles. There must be a rally coming up soon I thought perhaps this weekend. I remembered a time I really liked motorcycles because in college I had a CBR 1000; I really loved riding that bike, but ended up selling it the day I joined the agency. Maybe I will stop by the motorcycle rally if I have time to do so. The drive to work was only 10 minutes away, to the Sallisaw police station where I and my team of eight FBI agents and analysts have been occupying two of its bigger office rooms.

The Sallisaw Police Department was a light color building on W. Chickasaw Avenue. There was a skate park on one side of it and a First Baptist Church across the street. I always arrived at work right at six and would start the coffee for the team. Then I would pull out my laptop from its bag and log onto the network. While waiting for the team to arrive, I would go through my email reviewing what had accumulated from last checking. After checking my emails, I would go through missing person reports hoping that the next victim will be reported early enough. The rest of the team would show up about 0630 but never later than 0700. The first team member after myself to arrive was usually special agent Nick Tidwell, next was special agents Sara Paterson and Alisa Smith who would usually walk in together, then Jack Clark (analyst) and special agent Scott Mann, next to arrive was Kelly, and last was Charlie another analyst.

I heard the door open, see Nick walking my way appearing to be way too happy. I wonder what’s going on with him because he usually looks like his puppy was just killed in a hit and run.

Hey Bret how is your morning going, hopefully better than your night seeing how you didn’t take that girl home with you last night!  But yours truly, me! I did indeed meet and woe a girl and I think I’m in love, said Nick.

What happened Mr. Bret Williams?  Do you need me to go be your wing man again, especially if Nick had luck and you didn’t, chided Sara.

No, I said, I do alright considering I told her I only take home 9s and 10s and never a 6, she got upset at first but later still gave me her number before she left the bar, she had written it on a napkin that said ‘Booty call: 521-6543.’ See I have it right here, I thought Nick might like to have it.

Oh stop talking out of your butt, said Kelly as she walked into the office only hearing the last part of the conversation. Kelly Beasley was a very beautiful woman with dark brown eyes and dirty blonde hair. She is the team leader which impressed me; I was attracted to a woman with authority.   At times it seemed as if Kelly likes me, but it didn’t matter though considering nothing would ever happen between Kelly and me. We are both way too professional to start a romantic relationship with a co-worker.

I sometimes thought about when we catch this monster how I might want to pursue a relationship with Kelly, but for now my entire being and all energy was focused on the case. I remembered when I first drove into Sallisaw.  To this day we still didn’t know why the Isotope Killer chose a small town like Sallisaw, why the killer chose to leave the young orphan boy that was just hours from death at the Brushy Elementary School, or why the killer took the time to duct tape the boy to a swing. I thought about the pain the orphan boy must have experienced as he died slowly, but it was fast when it comes to radiation poisoning. I thought about what all the Isotope Killer victims must have felt. I would try to imagine what they were thinking during the time of their captivity. I would find myself becoming really emotionally connected to the case and my work; to the point where I had to be taken off of the Isotope Killer case before in the past. Then I proved myself to be so valuable to making any progress in the case that I was brought back. I wouldn’t let the case get the best of me again. Even though all I want and care about doing is catching this killer. I have to be the one to do it; it’s important. I imagined myself killing this killer, oh how I wish I could be the one to put a bullet in his brain, No! That would be too easy as he deserves worse; a bullet is way too nice too fast.  I wish I could find him first to have time with him alone to make him suffer like he makes his victims suffer, and as he makes me suffer from the nightmares. Yes! A bullet would be too fast, he needs what he gives: a slow death with radiation and acid. If only my soul could handle giving him what he deserves, but I can’t, even though I might, I wouldn’t because I am not a monster, no I am not, and all I am is the number one.

Bret! Do you want more coffee before the morning brief? asked Sara.

No thank you, I reply, being jolted back to reality. 

…

A typical day at the office for the FBI team is now slow. We were preparing to move our operations base probably in about a week or so because the Isotope Killer would strike once again. The killer was kidnapping and killing his victims about once every two months precisely within a day or two. The team members all worked extremely well together; no one had to hold anyone else’s hand when it came to the job, everyone knew how and what needs to be done. We were just under two weeks from getting the alert that a young orphan boy or girl will be reported missing, which means, God forbid, most likely that the Isotope Killer has struck again and an orphan is the next victim. We only hope that the foster parents or the head person for the group home would report the missing child promptly without waiting 24 plus hours.

Special Agent Kelly Beasley, the team leader, would usually spend her time coordinating with the higher ups and any branch chiefs within 500 miles of their current location to inform them that the team would be moving soon. Kelly has two master’s degrees in foreign language both in Japanese and Korean; she also has a Ph.D. in psychology with specialized training in criminal profiling. She had many accomplishments to show for it. Being a single 27 year-old, her career took first priority, which was perfectly okay because she was still young and extremely beautiful, so no need to rush into a relationship and start a family. Kelly had long dirty-blonde hair that she wore up most of the time. She stood about 5’ 3" and had dark brown eyes. She had an athletic tone-shaped body and overall was a head turner when it came to her appearance. Kelly came from a truly loving family; she talked about them often and wished she could spend more time with them. Kelly had one younger brother that her parents adopted when he was two years old, and Kelly was five years old at the time of his adoption. Kelly and her adopted brother were really close; the team knew that Kelly’s brother was her driving force every day. She was a good team leader and extremely good at connecting with people and everyone on the team liked her. Although lately she has been on edge in light of the fact it was almost time for the Isotope killer to strike again, and they were not any closer to finding this monster than they were two months ago. Kelly was feeling the pressure from the director for not having any success thus far. In fact, Kelly warned the team that we may be getting surprise visits and forced help from the agency sent by Director John Killer. Kelly had really been on the team about monitoring any chatter of missing children especially orphan children, and she had pretty much set up residence at Sara Paterson’s desk, reviewing data.

Sara, our main analyst, had developed a program that screens 911 calls for anything involving the disappearance of children. The program assigned each 911 emergency an importance level. For example, if someone reported a missing teenager who belongs to a loving family of five, the program would ignore the information marking it a low importance level. If a foster parent reports a missing orphan child between 6 and 14 years old, it would be marked a very high importance level and most likely the next victim. Sara Paterson was a single 29-year-old with a master’s degree from Minnesota in computer science and information technology. Both Sara’s mother and father were still alive. Sara had two brothers and one sister. One of her brothers was in the army and the other just starting college; her sister was almost through with her college degree, and Sara couldn’t be more proud of her. Sara looked up to Kelly.

Scott Mann was 30 years of age and was the team’s nerd. He was as smart as or smarter than Sara having two doctorates, one in physics, and the other in biochemistry, on top of a master’s in psychology. In fact, Nick started calling Scott Marshall because of the character from Alias in that they could be related looking almost identical with the same characteristics and facial features. Scott mostly spent his days going through past data and old evidence records trying to find anything that may uncover something new. Scott also helped Kelly when addressing the public, talking to news stations, reporters, and anything that had to do with public affairs, which Scott did really well.

Special Agent Nick Tidwell and I had fairly the same story other than the fact that Nick wasn’t an orphan. Nick’s mother was still alive; his father had died when he was a freshman in college, which led him to join the army, I decided to join with him. We both passed the entry exam ASVAB or the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, which was similar to an easier version of the SAT being all multiple choice. I got a higher score, but didn’t tell Nick just how much higher. I was an orphan all of my life; my mother gave me up and my first adopted parents abandoned me. There used to be a time when I would dream about my parents or the parents I imagined for myself. I had always been smart; I attended college on a full ride scholarship, which included books and housing. We both would eventually join the FBI, and one day would be in the CIA when we got recruited.

Nick didn’t take losing his dad very well at all. He could never understand why God would take his dad away, I didn’t understand it either. Nick and I loved God.  We were involved in the First Baptist Church’s youth group all through high school until we left to join the Army. Nick’s parents raised him up within the church, I, on the other hand, was a lost and socially awkward kid until Nick helped me through the awkwardness.

I found God after Nick invited me to church and we became best friends. I always wondered if the reason Nick wanted to enlist was because he was trying to run away from God. This made me think about the story of Jonah and Job in light of how going through hard times and heartache can make even the best run in the opposite direction. Nick and I accomplished a lot in the military advancing up fast, and as I predicted we would get recruited into the FBI probably because of our superior skills in analyzing data, putting pieces together, prisoner interrogation, and criminal profiling coming out of the army. It was that knowledge and experience we learned in the army that made the FBI want us both considering it made us top candidates.

Chapter 2

Gregory Sheppard, also known as the Isotope Killer, was a tall slinky man.  He had blonde hair that he combed and parted down the middle and dark blue eyes. Gregory Sheppard was driving down a country road as he remembered when he was just a little child, adopted out of Germany by his American parents, Lisa and Jack Sheppard. He had a great childhood upbringing while he lived with his parents; however, his parents both died in a lab fire that was started by a stupid low level technician. Gregory remembers vividly the day that child services came and picked him up at school.  They told him that both his mother and father had died just four hours earlier. From that time on, he had an atrocious childhood upbringing and never was adopted again. It wasn’t because American parents didn’t want him; no it was all the other orphans fault. It was their fault that he never found new American parents to adopt him again because American orphans are stupid and probably were the seed of other stupid adult American orphans. Gregory Sheppard, the Isotope Killer, thought of himself as the best and smartest orphan ever, he knew he was a result of his adopted parents, who were probably German on the inside, adopting him out of all the other children in the world.  Likewise, his parents were really smart too working at a research lab. The truth is, he didn’t know much about his American parents, he only knew what they told him during the time they were all three together. Later when he was older he tried to look up more information about his American parents, but their files and any information about his parents were missing.

Gregory now was approaching the town of Des Moines in his 2010 Jeep Wrangler Mountain edition.  He took a right turn down another old country dirt road.  He always made sure he made himself really knowledgeable in the area of his hunting grounds; the town where he would take another worthless American orphan child out of the gene pool. He would take a child and let his soul decay in hell because that’s what and where he deserves to be and have his soul’s decay without resting. No rest in America for the orphans because he would keep them away from good parents and not even on this planet.

I will never give up, my mission will not be completed till all the scum American orphan children are gone. The more of them I let get too old, the more of them that are out and free to destroy this country and my livelihood. It’s bad enough one already got away from me, but experiment #1 was a good learning experience and I will never let another one get away like #1. He pondered to himself.

The dirt road then started curving left and heading back towards the town, Gregory was approaching Interstate 80. He would take Interstate 80 to Interstate 235 then exit on E. University Avenue, where he would make his way to an empty lot next to a shipping yard. The empty lot was next to Redhead Park. Redhead Park was where little Delilah Sincraft an orphan, age 8, was always at walking home from the park. Gregory had watched the little orphan girl now for two days. Everyday Delilah would make her way to Redhead Park after school to play and draw in her notebook for about an hour before sunset then she would walk four blocks to her home.

Tomorrow would be the go day, the day he would grab Delilah while she was leaving Redhead Park to return home. Gregory knew he would dream well tonight, he would dream about how he would take another orphan scum out of this world and back into the hell where she came.

The next day, Friday at 1500 hours, Gregory makes his way to the side street one block up from Redhead Park where he would wait in a moving truck that he painted himself to match the U-Haul moving trucks. Gregory designed and engineered a spring loaded snare into the side of the moving truck. He would use this to grab Delilah in less than three seconds. It was now 1700 hours and Delilah was playing at the park where she would always be after the school days. Gregory knew she would start home soon, which would be perfect for Gregory as the sun will start setting giving him an advantage as the light will be dim and harder for anyone to witness the act. Gregory had back and side cameras set up on the moving truck to watch for onlookers. Gregory will also use these two cameras and the target camera to time when to take the orphan by releasing the snare spring. The snare spring is made with three industrial size garage door springs, a thick gauge steel pipe, and a steel cable with high tinsel strength.

It was now 1830 and Delilah was starting to walk home. The snare was set, covered with a small amount of leaves, and ready to be triggered.  Now, Delilah was within 20 ft. of the trap continuing straight towards the readied snare. Approaching 15 feet away and still walking right towards her doom, there were no onlookers on any of the monitors that Gregory could see. Ten feet, Gregory was starting to breathe harder and harder. His excitement to carry out his mission was starting to make him sweat. He hates sweating. Gregory tried to slow his breathing, but the anticipation was too much…five feet now. He quickly checked the monitors