Servant of Evil

By J.R. Gonzalez

Servant of Evil is about a serial killer in Los Angeles, 

and the police officer that won't rest until he puts him in the ground or in jail, 

either way works fine for Detective Galang. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Global Summit House
• Release date: Jan 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957054599

J.R. Gonzalez

This is the sixth book by J.R. Gonzalez, who with each new book is proving that he is a master of horror; this book is a very worthy addition to that collection, originally intended to be part of a short story book, this book follows in the path of his last book, "The Wolf Man" and will be followed next by a story called "Nocturnal" which will reveal what happened to Carl Lingstrom after leaving that cliff side in his third book, "The Lingstroms." J.R. lives in Los Angeles and all of his stories take place there or end up there.

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Copyright © 2022 by J.R. Gonzalez.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.

ISBN: 978-1-957054-60-5 (Paperback Edition)

ISBN: 978-1-957054-61-2 (Hardcover Edition)

ISBN: 978-1-957054-59-9 (E-book Edition)

Some characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to the real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Book Ordering Information

Phone Number: 315 288-7939 ext. 1000 or 347-901-4920

Email: [e-mail]

Global Summit House

www.globalsummithouse.com

Printed in the United States of America

Servant of evil

Don’t you know we all feel pain The rest of us just found a better way Cause no one can hide forever from the rain

Servant of evil

He’s not the only one calls for you Serving that devil

It’s the easiest thing you can choose Servant of evil

Gotta go your own way

Empty is any promise made by the devil One day you’re going to have to pay

—J.R. Gonzalez

Prelude: An Explanation of Sorts

AN EXPLANATION OF SORTS

As had been the story of my life for as long as I could remember, it was another Saturday night and I was sitting alone, but this time was different; instead of being alone at home, this time I was alone at precinct headquarters. It seemed lately as though wherever I went, I was always alone, even when I was in a crowd; and this was a perfect example of that, it was a damned New Year’s celebration, everyone was wildly drunk; and I was sitting alone and watching everyone else have fun.

At one point, it struck me that no one was minding the store while they were all out here getting drunk, and we were letting our hair down.

Because it seemed as though the entire police force was running around in here, and not all were keeping their clothes on and no one else seemed to have noticed or thought of the people outside except for me.

It seemed that I was the only one in the city not caught up in the revelry of the New Year, and I was sitting there, talking to myself, and trying to think of a good reason to stick around; I wanted so badly to leave because it was just another place where I felt I didn’t belong.

I had friends there, some guys I trusted with my life, and would have laid my life on the line for and not thought about it or hesitated in the least, but some of them were transferring away, and others retired or just left the job because it didn’t suit them, either way, I was losing friends and it was getting to me, as much as I pretended to be the lone wolf and liked doing things my own way; it wasn’t working as well for me these days.

Maybe that was the new style of police officer, younger, more technically proficient, and of a different mindset than when we came out of the academy, it seemed that there were more specialty units now, that the assignments weren’t going to the next guy on the line as before whoever was next in the rotation got the call and went out to investigate, and as if a certain criminal demanded a certain type of officer to bring them in; it was hard to explain but easy to understand, and it made sense to me, there were some that just couldn’t get past the idea that a crime was committed and someone needed to pay for it, while others were more compassionate or maybe empathetic and could look past the crime and see more of the reason for it and then catch the criminal following that line of investigation, and that worked well too, though not everyone could do it.

But that divided a lot of the officers and detectives up though, it became a house of grunt squads that were sent in to do the dirty work, they went in first and took the greatest risk, the others the brains followed and analyzed the situation and made the decisions as to how it went from there; some thought they were too smart for the grunts and had a hard time hiding that from either side, once in a while they were right, but for the most part, the shoe fit and no one was going to change it.

That made me think about what it was that led me to this point in the first place; not just the party, but being a cop, a policeman, an officer of the law; one of those that would run to the danger while others ran from it; no matter what their instincts screamed at them during that time; their survival instincts were to escape, while mine seemed to be angry at someone for disturbing the peace or interrupting whatever was going on because they were too lazy to work hard for what they wanted or thought they needed, or the other person deserved to die for cutting him off in traffic or winking at his girlfriend, any excuse they thought gave them license to do whatever they wanted.

I guess I thought someone needed to remind them that this isn’t the wild-wild west.

If you knew anything about me as a kid, that I wore this uniform would come as a huge surprise, as I was wild and pretty much did whatever I wanted as I grew up, I thumbed my nose at the cops whenever I saw them, and as I grew up, they all knew me by name.

Not because I was in trouble a lot, my father would kick my ass (when he was around) so I couldn’t, but I was running under the radar and none of them ever really knew what I was up to, they only saw what I wanted them to see, a boy has to have his secrets after all; and my crimes weren’t anything serious; I never hurt anyone unless they wanted to fight and I never stole from anyone, I just liked to stretch the lines and see what I could get away with.

There was a time, a friend that grew up and found his way out of here, but he came back to the old neighborhood one day, driving a really nice Chevy Nova, a light blue convertible that he bought with his own money, but forgot to get a driver’s license or even to learn how to drive before he bought it; he thought those little details would work themselves out in time, until the day that he ran out of time.

We were stopped at a red light and were just laughing and talking about the old days, and some of the guys we grew up with, remembering the ones that were no longer with us, that list that we thought would never start and yet it seemed that every year another name would be added, those things that were rudely reminding us that life is a gift and we’d better appreciate it while we could.

But we were just being guys, out having a good time, and not really worried about anything, when the light changed and he made a left turn, without waiting for traffic to clear, and right in front of a squad car with two angry white cops inside, they felt disrespected, the light gave them the right-of-way and he drove as if they weren’t there.

He was quickly and angrily pulled over and given a ticket, which even I would admit that he deserved, but then the cops went beyond teaching him a simple lesson that day; they weren’t satisfied that he’d signed the ticket and was not arguing or trying to talk his way out of it, one of them threatened us with his Shillelagh because we were just kids and it made him feel better about his life to think he scared us; that he held power over us at that moment, and we’d better respect that or it would get really bad for us in a hurry.

It made us both angry, but we knew better, and held that in check, he was just small-minded, and I knew even then that not all cops were like them, but at the time it sure seemed like it. They carried a badge and a gun, and the judge was more likely to believe them than two kids who were out with no adult supervision, and no clear understanding of the rules and how they applied to us.

Eventually, when we didn’t act frightened, or tried to push back, he got tired of waiting for us to be scared and let us go with a warning, and I think he might have kept us there longer, making himself feel like more of a man by over exerting his authority but his partner was tired or hungry and took him aside for a moment; when he returned he dropped my friends license on the ground in front of him and the turned and left without another word.

After that dubious start to my relationship with the law, we left there to get my mother from work and then out for pizza and pool while we shared out memories.

One of those memories that my friend didn’t seem to like was when we were twelve, he was always a rather large individual, and we playfully referred to him as Freddie Blassey which would make him angry and he would chase us all over the place when we did, it wasn’t meant to be mean, and since it was the name of a professional wrestler at the time, I thought it should have been a compliment but he never saw it that way, it was fun running from him until you got tired and he finally caught up.

Maybe it was because I grew up with my friend Freddie that it didn’t bother me, but it sure seemed to bother the officer who seemed to be more focused on my friend than me, which normally would make me happy, but I liked Freddie, and was worried for a few moments before they finally let us go when we weren’t afraid of him and his stupid club, and were smart enough not to feed into his line of bullshit.

As rebellious as I thought I was, I never set out to deliberately hurt anyone nor really went that far outside the law, no felonies, or serious crimes on my record as they say, but they also say that sometimes you need a crook to catch a crook.

For me the problem was, since I was one of the new guys on the block I didn’t have much pull, and they say that shit rolls downhill; I was forced to stay.

It will be good for your career to be seen here tonight! the chief told me and a few others before he signed off duty for the night and went home.

Just as I was thinking about those things, the door burst loudly open and out of a newly developed habit I reached for my service revolver, which was still hanging from my locker, about four feet away.

But it turned out to be just Nathan and Estella; she was one of the new dispatchers and started about a month ago, there were rumors about her being a little wild but nothing I saw until now.

I didn’t mind wild, it gave things life, but it was the first time I’d ever seen her this close like this, I felt a bit embarrassed.

He was a beat cop that worked the West side most of the time, but came with something of a playboy reputation, with dark, greasy European features and dark, wavy hair, along with a smile that even Eric Estrada would have envied.

When we first rumors heard about her and the others going through training, he told everyone he couldn’t wait to see what she looked like, and now it looked to me as if he didn’t waste any time. I knew him from the academy, he was a year older and graduated early because he was smart, but when he was honest about it, he admitted to having a photographic memory; he knew things he saw but never understood what made them what they were.

I could see her clearer now as she got closer, and I could tell that she was older than she wanted to be, yet she still held her beauty well; it showed more on her face, at the edges of her eyes and the corners of her mouth, her body still looked fit, yet she claimed that she never worked out a day in her life; and I think that the wrinkles showed more at that time because of her makeup which was smeared under her eyes and in the corners.

He was young, and still wild for a cop, but he was well-liked by the brass and those above him, they cut him slack because of that but he knew the limits they set out for us, yet it seemed as though he was working his way through the female staff of the precinct, and if the rumors were right, she would be the fourth notch on his belt in two months.

For a moment, I wondered where he was on her belt but as I was thinking I shouldn’t say anything about it, I was certain that they were not going to hear me anyway by the looks of them.

Hey Joe, do you mind giving us a few? he whispered and then winked at me confidentially; She wants to do it in the shower and won’t take no for an answer! he said and then laughed as if he thought to say no to her.

He stood back and looked at her again, admiring the latest trophy in his case, some big deal in his life anyway, some things I guess I just wasn’t meant to understand.

I hated being called Joey and they all knew it, but at least it was better than when I was in the 87th where they called me JoJo and thought nothing of the way it pissed me off.

It made me happy that I didn’t have as much interaction with those guys anymore, now that I was finished with my training and found my Home as opposed to being a precinct whore and going anywhere they sent me, different places each day; never the same faces on either side of the badge, it was frustrating, but it was also a learning experience, it taught me how to relate to different people on the fly; to respond, rather than react when something was wrong, to relate to all kinds of people and situations without losing it or doing something out of the ordinary that wasn’t covered in the book.

The moving around and seeing different situations, locations, and even some of the duties I was assigned to were good for one thing, it was never the same, different streets, different types of crimes and even different types of criminals but I didn’t like not knowing where I was going to be after I clocked in.

It could have been worse though, it could always be worse, that was something that I was reminding myself a lot these days, and sometimes as soon as I reminded myself of that fact, it did get worse.

The one good thing about the 87th was that I made my first

bust while I was there, got my feet wet anyway when I caught a peter-pumper that was sitting in his van near the beach and was touching himself while young children and families were walking so close by and unaware of what he was doing.

I was off-duty at the time, and walking on the path that led down to the shore line when I saw him, and like everyone else I might have walked by and not noticed what he was doing but it caught my attention when I saw the towel propped up to the rear window a slight moving of the vehicle, and call it a side-effect of my job but I wondered if it was just to change into something to swim in or go home, or something that my gut told me it really was, but since I was becoming something of a snoop, I wanted to make sure before I left as there were plenty of open rooms nearby that were provided that he could change in private if he wanted to, and they weren’t busy at the moment either some of the doors were open.

From where I was, I could see him and part of his silhouette well enough that I knew that he was naked from the waist up; not a big deal when you think about how close to the shore he was, yet he was clearly not putting anything on, and his body and the vehicle were both shaking from his movements.

He was watching the crowd as they walked by, those women and children oblivious to the sickness being perpetrated as they passed him, I looked at the rear plate and couldn’t read it because he smeared mud on it to obscure it and I got mad, I felt my blood boiling in my body and my heart pounding hard in my chest, that told me that he had done this before and he knew what he was doing.

I know that there are some that saw things like these as minor crimes, he wasn’t out where they could see him, he wasn’t flashing them or trying to get them to join him in the back seat; but there were kids out there for God’s sake and kids were my soft spot.

A while back, I stopped reading the newspaper because there were so many stories about kids being murdered, or moleste,d and I would break down and cry for them, though I didn’t even have so much as a picture in the newspaper to identify them with and I didn’t know anything about what kind of kid they were or anything about them, just that they were kids, that was enough.

The other thing was, during my training they offered us some basic courses in psychology to help us understand some of the criminals we would be dealing with, and the crimes they would stain our souls with and fuel our nightmares with images we could never imagine on our own and this was one of them.

They taught us that there were those that would be happy doing this, maybe forever and never go onto other ways of expressing their sickness on the rest of us, but they almost always escalated to more brazen crimes, some eventually becoming violent when nothing else sated their perversions enough.

That told me that it was better to stop him now then to let him go, and later read that he did something far worse to one of those poor kids walking by, I was thinking of this as preventative medicine or therapy, I’m not sure which label fits better but I was trying to do something good and not just look the other way.

As I was walking to the rear of his vehicle, he was still looking to his right and never saw me, though I was watching his face in the mirror, hoping he wouldn’t make any sudden moves or try to run me over while getting away.

Too late he saw me; my gun was out, and I was ready to shoot him through the head if I heard the engine turn over and he almost managed that before I made him stop and shut the engine off.

He must have been used to these kinds of narrow escapes I was thinking, because he started the car so quickly; but I was also thinking that he wasn’t going to get away this time, I had him by the short hairs and wasn’t going to let go until I heard the steel door of his cell clang shut.

Police! I shouted at him loud and clear, loud enough that several people heard me and some of them screamed, not knowing what was going on but seeing the gun and knowing it was serious; they started to pull their children away, but they never took their eyes off us as they tried to leave.

I saw him cringe in fear as I shouted for those people It’s alright, I am a police officer, in the performance of my duty! I told them though they didn’t react, or calm down at all, so I wasn’t sure they heard.

Shut off the motor and toss the keys out NOW! I said to him nice, and slow, so he would understand that it wasn’t a polite request, even though the motor was already off.

He still thought about it for a moment, so I raised my gun to eye level before closing one eye and focusing on the spot just below his hairline.

As I waited for him to toss out the keys I said, I wonder while he was still slow to react and that caught his attention.

This is a thirty-eight-caliber gun I’m pointing at the bone behind your ear, and I don’t think you’ll mind excusing me but right now I can’t remember what that bone is called! I said as I tapped on it with the barrel of my gun to make sure he knew where I was going to put a bullet into his brain.

You know the bone I’m talking about, right? I asked him, again speaking nice and slow so he’d understand.

But I was wondering, do you think the bullet would penetrate that thick bone and enter your skull, or just bounce off into space and leave you with a very dark and deep bruise and one nasty fucking headache! I said, and then I pushed harder.

Especially from this angle, I said, and tapped onto the bone for emphasis, knowing how much that hurt, What do you think? I asked him again and then cocked the gun as a last warning and put it against his head, Think it will just bounce off and take your ear?" I said, and then almost laughed.

I am not asking you to move, and I will not be telling you again to toss out the keys! I said, when he finally gave up and tossed them out, I yanked the door open, grabbed him by the arm and tossed his boney ass out into the street.

Don’t even think about moving! I warned him, though cars were still flying by close enough to rattle him, I was trying to remember what was next in the manual when he spoke to me, and I looked at the speed limit sign and knew that neither of us was safe, but I didn’t seem to care as much as he did.

Can I please put my pants on? I feel naked without them! he said, looking over his shoulder at the cars whizzing by so close he felt the pull as they passed him.

That wasn’t bothering you a minute ago! I reminded him,

Go ahead, you pull them up real slow, and don’t bother standing up, just do it from there! I said, still holding my weapon on him, I stepped a bit closer to make sure there was no weapon in there with his other things, when two other things happened at once that broke my concentration and pissed me off.

First, someone called the police because they didn’t believe me when I told them I was an officer, and a patrol car came screeching to a halt just behind me, and I knew by the sound that they were really close, and did that on purpose to stop me from whatever I was doing, it was standard distraction procedure, meant to take me out of my thoughts enough that no one would get shot.

The second thing was that I remembered being off duty and not in uniform, my badge was in my wallet, but I wasn’t going to make any sudden moves either; just because I was the good guy didn’t mean they would see that from where they were, I almost laughed thinking that I’d forgotten my white hat.

Then I heard one of them yell Freeze! while the other shouted at me to drop the gun and I heard their guns click into firing order as they waited for me to do what they said.

As they focused on me, I wondered if they were pointing at that same bone as I did and made a mental note to find out what that bone was called because I really couldn’t remember and it was driving me crazy now, which was even crazier when you think about that was going on at the time.

Uncocking my own weapon, I pointed it up, and raised my other hand to show them it was empty, and then slowly put it on the ground as I tried to tell them what was going on and show them my badge so they would know I was one of them, though I didn’t recognize either of them.

They put their guns away slowly and told me to be more careful next time I’m not in uniform before they took him in, but as they were leading him away the bastard smiled at me, as if this was just a formality and he didn’t need to worry about a thing.

Now, you would think that since I caught him literally with his pants down and such an easy bust, a slam dunk, and see you much later man; but then, if you really believed that (as I did at the time) then you really don’t know the legal system with all its checks and balances and the quirky way things get turned around in that courtroom; the way a crooked lawyer can twist your own words around until they are looking at you as a suspect and think his client is innocent.

His lawyer argued that he was merely changing into his bathing suit to join the others frolicking at the beach, and that I embarrassed and humiliated him in front of everyone, and then threatened to shoot him in front of women and children who were frightened beyond their wits, and they were demanding a public apology.

He even managed to somehow bring a few eyewitnesses that were supposedly passing with their children and saw his ass, they were allegedly traumatized as well; and after a few days it seemed as though half of the city was there with their hands out waiting to sue the department for the trauma they suffered over this event.

In the end, that bust turned out to be both a blessing and a curse, because it followed me everywhere like the proverbial albatross; but it led me to where I was now because they didn’t want the notoriety it brought and transferred me out as soon as they could.

This was when most of the guys I was training with were still hoping for a bust, to get it rolling and under their belt so they could get off the streets, I was on those streets doing what they wanted, but with the extra weight of the captain giving me incentives to keep my mouth shut about the peter pumper and let it all die down, and this was a story that it seemed that everyone else was not in a hurry to let go.

It wasn’t such a great way to start my career, but I still thought that this was such an absurd turn of events that it wasn’t going to stick, and it wouldn’t matter as he was going away for a while, and yet I was wrong, and he got off with six months of unsupervised probation.

I argued that it was going to get worse and how things like this lead to more serious crimes but my argument held no merit to them, they said that I didn’t have the legal pedigree to say I was a doctor, and there were no facts I could present to back me up; it made me feel as though even the judge was on his side because every argument I brought up, though sound and legal, was shot down vociferously by the lawyer and then quickly by the judge.

I was brought back to where I was by Nate asking me to give them some privacy again, I looked at her and she was weaving to her own beat, too drunk to even know what was going on and I was sure that would have fallen but for his hand around her waist and yet he almost dropped her as they walked past me; it didn’t seem as though it would bother her if I was there or not, or even if I joined them, but that wasn’t my style either.

She looked back at me once and sort of smiled, even with her make up running down the side of her face and her hair so messed up birds would have a hard time nesting in it if they had a mind to, and I laughed because she still looked a bit sexy to me, though it might have been what the smile was saying, but I wasn’t going there either.

I saw where they were headed and thought I should least try to warn him, Are you sure Nate? I said, If you go to that area, there’s more a chance the Sergeant might come through there and what would you say if he caught you there with her? I asked him, though he either thought that through and already had a plan, he didn’t hear me or he didn’t care, the look he gave me was so blank it could have meant any of those things, but it mainly said, Go! so I did, shrugging my shoulders as I did because it wasn’t my ass on the line this time.

The Sarg? he said and then laughed as I left, He’s in the captain’s office, and I doubt he wants to be anywhere else for a while, he’s probably asleep in the chair, dreaming he was the cap! he said and then laughed and almost dropped her again, she mumbled something that sounded like, Careful honey! but didn’t even open her eyes.

He put his finger to his lips and shushed me as if we were in on a big secret, a conspiracy to not embarrass the brass, but then he started nodding his head at me and then waved me away, now even more impatient for me to leave them alone.

I finished dressing and started towards the exit, and I didn’t turn around because I was pretty sure they were already kissing and groping at each other, taking off whatever clothes they wore; I shook my head and tried not to laugh before I went out into the cold of that night.

That being settled, I was pretty sure I’d settled the issue of whether I needed to stick around or not, they were all into their own form of debauchery and most of them hardly noticed me as I left; though a few of my friends did ask me to join them for a drink, and I almost did, but by the looks of things, that was going to lead to those other things that Nate had in mind, and I didn’t want to play those kinds of games, probably because I was raised old school, and wanted to at least know her name and who she was before I took off my pants, maybe even who she was with before she met me or asked me to join her that night, it was just crazy all around for me and I’d had enough.

I’m not trying to pretend that I was some kind of saint, or that my morals were better and firmer entrenched in my soul than theirs was; I am more than capable of my own dirty deeds but I guess I just didn’t want to air out my dirty laundry in front of the people I was going to work with later, and sometimes work for, I learned long ago that you don’t shit where you eat because the smell takes your appetite away, and when that stops, you aren’t human anymore and it doesn’t matter.

As I walked out the front door, I wondered what would happen if there was an emergency and some of these guys were called out, it was New Year’s Eve after all, there were already gun shots and the sounds of parties everywhere, and guns, liquor and too much freedom is never a good mix.

All these people celebrating because they made it to another year of doing nothing with their lives, and those bullets fired into the air have to come down somewhere.

It was 1967, they killed our president in November, five years before, and the war in Viet Nam was still raging, still people dying in another far-off land for some obscure cause, the new president was losing control of his people that didn’t vote him into that chair, and there didn’t seem to be a lot of other things to be celebrating besides making it to another year of doing exactly the same shit all over again; the very definition of insanity, doing the same bad things over again, knowing you’ll get the same sad results.

Mundane lives was the term that popped into my head just then, and I didn’t like big words, and cared even less for the people that used them, but it was there just the same.

As if my life was any better than theirs, and I knew that wasn’t even close to being true, my life at that point was sad, even pathetic; there was a word that jumped out too, and boy did that one feel like it fit me right; it was as if my life was always empty and had been that way for so long and I was the only one that hadn’t noticed until now.

But as I stepped out into the street, I almost knocked over a woman passing me on the sidewalk and going the other way, I was about to apologize to her, I didn’t think I hurt her, but I did knock her off her track a bit though she never slowed nor seemed as if she noticed me at all.

After she passed me and was a few feet away, she managed to turn her head towards me, as if to acknowledge me, but she was in too much of a hurry for anything more than that; she quickly went about her business with that quick dismissal of me and it seemed more as though she was assuring herself that I wasn’t following her than anything like an actual acknowledgement of me.

I got the feeling that she didn’t like running into me and that it made her feel dirty or violated somehow, and then a feeling that I was being rudely dismissed with a strong degree of finality.

As I was thinking about that and trying to figure her out, I heard a loud, piercing scream, it was so filled with terror or pain that it took my attention from this woman,.

I felt the terror in the victim’s heart so strong that I felt that same fear gripping my heart as well, and I’m not sure if it was really that loud or it was just that open and empty out there that it amplified the sound of her scream, but it was so loud that it hurt my ears; even though I wasn’t that close to her.

My first reaction was to turn back towards the building, with all the policeman inside having fun, and in no mood to try to find their pants and keys to respond to something like this; I knew I was alone and it was hopeless to try and find some backup when I saw a woman run by in the far hallway, she was chasing another officer who was holding her bra high as he ran, and she was freely bouncing all over the place while trying to reclaim his trophy and put it back on.

Leaving them behind, I turned back to the street just in time to see a car speeding off down the block, and ran to the nearest squad car, hoping that I would find one with the keys in it; the captain was all over everybody about doing that, he was worried about liability and covering his ass.

There were still a lot of guys that didn’t see the need to carry the keys inside, they were the only ones that would use the car for that shift and no one was on record for stealing a cop car in over twenty years, when it used to be part of an annual frat hazing qualifier where you wouldn’t know the secret handshake or get the neat little decoder ring in the college down the street unless you were willing to be that stupid and prove that you didn’t need brains to attend college there.

The first car I tried was locked, something even rarer these days, when I tried the second one, the keys were on the floor right in front of the driver’s seat; I sat down and turned on the ignition at the same time and then quickly backed out as I was fastening my seatbelt, turning my car in the same direction as the other car that left so quickly.

I could see it now, almost two blocks ahead of me and headed West; I knew he would turn South in a few more blocks and head for one of the on-ramps that were all over Los Angeles nowadays, except of course, when I was in a hurry and needed one.

There was no way I was going to let him get a bigger lead on me because I didn’t want to have to call in the Highway Patrol, I wanted to be the one that handled it, I could call it in as Officer in pursuit and they would have to let me stay on it, at that point they couldn’t take jurisdiction from me, it would be considered an active pursuit.

When I stepped hard on the gas, I almost spun out of control, the rear-end started sliding crazily my left and then back to my right before it caught.

It must have been a greasy puddle, or maybe some black ice that everyone was talking about; hard to see and yet it was easy to spin out of control before you could correct the slide and save your car from going into the ditch.

I was distracted by what I thought was that same pedestrian, she was caught in my headlights and looked very enticing in the darkness even though I didn’t like the spiked haircut or her attitude; I would have to admit that it looked good on her because it accented her features more, really brought them out while not being exaggerated with it,.

She was cool enough to be around town like that, and yet she could manage that same look in the board room of any office building in town and make it work.

What made her stand out more than her obvious beauty was that she seemed to have been standing there, waiting for me to see her; as if she knew I was going to be there, she could distract me enough to help him get away but I dismissed that thought because I was being a guy, as soon as I cleared her, I stepped on it again to close the space between us, I was happy to see that he was caught behind someone that was moving slow because the lane was too narrow for more than one car in either direction.

It was easy to keep back and follow because while everyone else was driving the newer models of car, this guy was driving and older car, a classic Chevy Nova, and with that style and body, and the year I figured he’d have at least a 327 under the hood, a lot of power if he could get out in the open road.

But as soon as he cleared that car, he sped around him as if on fire, and I was glad that there was not a lot of traffic out there to clog it up any more than it already did; that slow driver helped me stay close, now I was just hoping that someone wouldn’t try to be a hero, stall the escape or get angry, and start fighting with someone that might have a gun and maybe be desperate enough to use it on them to get away from me.

As I followed that direction I didn’t turn on the lights or siren because I didn’t think I’d need them, I didn’t want to scare him off while I was that far back; even from as far as I was, I was still able to see where he was going, and hopefully; to get close enough to save whoever screamed like that before he hurt her any further.

To both my surprise and delight, he turned away from the freeways, going South for a few blocks, and then East, slowing down as he entered the business part of town, which made me think he was familiar with the area, and knew where he was going. He wasn’t just trying to get away from me if he saw me in the rearview as I tried to follow, but I couldn’t do anything about that except that hope that this was going to be my night and not his.

I knew that in this area there were no homes; it was mostly storefronts and some warehouses where they assembled furniture from the frame up, and we weren’t very far from skid row, this area was mostly coded for business and not residential, but there were a lot of store fronts that were being used as homes, people would rent them out and live in them rather than run their business, it didn’t make sense to me, but they didn’t seem to care what anyone else thought as long as it worked for them.

Suddenly his lights went out and he made a quick right turn, so I slowed even more, there were no cars between us to hide behind anymore, but I kept following from as far back as I was while keeping him in sight, then I saw that he turned into a long driveway that swept around what I assumed was his destination, and whatever it was, a house or a building, it was far back and away from the road and easy to miss.

As I watched him speed up, at first, I thought he was going to slam into a solid wall, if I didn’t see him pull into the driveway, I never would have known there was a house there, it was hidden between some palms and these natural-looking rock formations which I could see when I got closer they were manufactured, though very realistic.

I could tell that the driveway was meant to be hidden, that from this side you couldn’t see it until you were right on it, but I couldn’t see the driver anymore, though there was still a lot of dirt kicked up as he sped away, I was hoping I wouldn’t run into anything going in blind, said a quick prayer and then stepped on the gas again, felt the back tires spitting out a bit of gravel and then they caught and the car leapt forward.

It was funny, I took this street a lot of times when the other way was jammed with too much traffic or there was something going on and traffic was higher than normal, and from all the times I drove by there I never thought anyone lived in this area, it always seemed deserted any time of the day or night.

The area was so clean there wasn’t even graffiti on the walls even though it covered an overpass for the freeway that was only three blocks away, but dismissing that, I pulled my car sideways, across the driveway, so that he couldn’t get out this way, it never occurred to me that there might be another way out but I guess I really didn’t have much time to think about it; I tried for the second time to call for back up but no one answered, and all I heard was static.

Then I got a rude reminder that the inmates were running the asylum when someone actually did pick up the mike and answered by shouting HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! loudly into the com system and then a series of words that sounded both vulgar and drunken as they ran together until someone wisely shut it off, so I gave up on getting any help or backup.

That made me realize what time it was, and I could imagine them all watching the television, counting down the end of the old and the beginning of the new, while they watched the silver ball drop, so they could get back to celebrating and drinking their way into the new year.

I checked my rounds and took the shotgun before I followed the path into the house, all the time I got the feeling that the house was watching me, while I thought it was the other way around, then I dismissed that as ridiculous, but also thought that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone in the house watching me, giving me that feeling.

As I got closer, I tried to peer into the windows without getting too close and getting in trouble, but it was too dark and there didn’t seem to be any lights on inside the house either, nothing was going to help me, even the moon was hidden behind some clouds when I looked up there for help.

I looked again but thought that the windows didn’t seem like they were made of regular glass because they were too dark, I thought maybe they were painted black from the inside, it was the only way they could be that dark and impenetrable, there was not even a shade of light at the edges, telling me it wasn’t curtains that were keeping me from seeing inside.

The other thing was, the closer I got to the house, the more it seemed to be abandoned, it felt empty and dusty-old, the paint was faded and cracked, peeling away in a lot of places where the sun hit the hardest; yet I was still certain that I was being watched, if not from the house then somewhere nearby, I was sure of it.

It was about that time that I realized that there were no night sounds either; I couldn’t hear the freeway, which was really close by, no crickets, nothing that you would expect to hear, it was deadly silent, and I didn’t like that it came to my mind that way.

There was a single string of naked bulbs that ran from the main house to what looked like a barn or shed, if it was a garage it was the back end of one, the big door would have been on the other side, making me wonder if there was another way out after all.

I finally worked up the nerve to walk past the house and to that barn, though I wasn’t sure why, but my gut told me that was where they went, and not into the house; I listened closely to make sure there was no one in there behind those darkened windows, I thought I heard a sound, but not from there, though it wasn’t loud enough to get a bearing on where it might have come from.

On one hand, I was thinking that this was too easy, and that in the movies this was where they would spring the trap set out for our intrepid hero and catch me off guard, but I didn’t think either of those labels fit me and that if I didn’t make a decision and move my ass, whoever I was trying to rescue was going to die of old age waiting for me to save him or her, I kept looking behind me because I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though nothing moved behind me.

As I neared the barn I heard another scream, this time it was louder and more urgent; more insistent and filled with the promise of pain, or at the very least its kiss on her soul.

I knew that I needed to hurry but my training told me to make sure and not rush ahead, to make sure of my footing and make sure I didn’t take any chances that I might not survive, and it didn’t sound like the same scream that got me started chasing this guy, and now I was wondering where the hell he was.

Two dead makes no sense! I remember them telling me, If they need to rescue you while you’re trying to rescue someone and you both die, so just remember that at least one of you needs to be able to get help or report what happened!

I was distracted, though I was trying not to spend too much energy thinking about these things, when I finally got close enough to check the weathered door, it was so old and cracked that it almost seemed as if it would fall off if I pulled too hard.

Trying to peer between the faded slats of cracked wood to see what was going on, I realized that it was not much help, it was dark in there too, but there was a little bit of light coming from somewhere to the right side of the room.

It was enough light that I was able to see a door closing on the far side of the room, just enough light that I saw some big, dark- looking guy carrying a small bundle.

There was movement in that bundle, as if it was a child that was trying to escape but the man carrying it hardly seemed to notice.

Finally, I pulled on the handle and the door opened immediately with a loud rattle, I turned back to see if anyone heard and was coming to check it out when suddenly the lights went out; an un-natural darkness covered the area, and I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face if I extended my hand more than a few inches.

Everything was as quiet as a tomb, and again, I felt tremendous fear that I thought of that word instead of something nice, like a library.

I stepped inside anyway, thinking if I let go of the door it would fall off and bring more people to investigate, I just tried to remember the layout of the room, so I didn’t trip on a chair or something else in the dark as I cautiously stepped forward.

That was when I was hit on the back of the head, it felt like a sock filled with sand or something, the only thing for certain was that I was going to have one hell of a headache when I came to, I was out so fast that I didn’t even have time to raise my hands to break my fall.

Sometime later, when I opened my eyes, it wasn’t because I wanted to wake up, but more so because someone had me by the hair and was shaking my head impatiently, they couldn’t wait to speak to me though, they never said a word as they shook my head violently around that way.

I opened my eyes slowly and started blinking several times while I tried to adjust to the light and I felt as though my head was incased in cotton because everything felt and seemed to be off somehow, maybe I was feeling the effects of a slight concussion because I couldn’t seem to focus on anything; my head hurt so badly, it felt as though it was split open in the back and I tried to reach back and feel it when he slapped me hard across the face and then realized that my hands were tied to the arms of the chair he tied me to.

It was not clear if he was trying to make sure he had my attention, or because he was trying to help me focus, but now I could see a small child on the other side of the room.

From here, I could not tell her age, but she looked old enough to know that we were both in trouble, what they call deep shit, and yet she was young enough to still feel there was hope for us that we might escape.

You’re a cop? he shouted at me, and when I turned to look in his direction he slapped me across the face with the back of his hand, as his hand swept past me and the stars came out again, I saw that he was holding my badge as he slapped me, explaining to me why it hurt so much more than a mere slap.

My face was turned towards her with the momentum of his hit, and I saw a glimmer of hope on her face; as though the knowledge that I was a police officer was enough to save us, and it was going to be alright after all, and now that he saw it, he would simply just let us go, as if it were going to be that easy.

I saw that there was a mark on her eye, and at first I thought that it was because he’d hit hurt, slapped her around a bit, and that really got my dander up; I could not tolerate a child abuser, it was obvious that I was angrier because of that and was going to do something about it when I noticed that it wasn’t a cut or bruise at all, but a small birth mark that stood out in contrast to her pale skin as it was bright red.

She was sitting on a chair almost directly across from me and looked dirty, as if he kept her in a basement or someplace that didn’t get cleaned a lot because people normally didn’t go there; she had another mark like that one on the crook of her right elbow, just inside the bend of her arm, it was a little smaller but just as bright as the other one, she was wearing jeans and tennis shoes that were scuffed, with an over-sized, dark blue sweat-shirt with the sleeves cut off, it said, See you at the Pike! in big letters and nothing else that I could see but a faded identification sticker on her right shoulder that looked like a day pass or something.

I kept willing her to get up, though her hands were tied at her sides, she was not tied to the chair, her feet weren’t tied together, but duct tape covered most of her face and obscured some of her features; I felt her fear then as it joined mine.

As hard as I concentrated and told her to get up, I could tell that she understood me; she kept shaking her head at me, it was clear to me that she was too afraid of him to try and save her own life; that left it up to me and I didn’t feel as confident as I should have.

I was not worried about me, I was thinking of her, and hoping I could do something about it, she was a little girl after all, and deserved to be at the mall having ice cream with her family or whatever little girls liked to do these days.

Looking into her eyes I saw something else; the innocence of a little girl who thought that maybe she could escape.

He was not focused on her at that time, it was a small window of opportunity that was about to close but it was there.

The thing of it was, she felt that if she escaped and left me there it would not feel right, even if she went and brought back an army of help it would not be in time to save me as well, I felt that she was mistaking my sense of urgency as fear for my own life.

I wasn’t in the least thinking of myself, I was only worried for her, and didn’t know how to tell her that without bringing him into it, she was too far to whisper, and I didn’t want to include him in whatever I was trying to get her to do; I couldn’t think straight with so many sharp points poking inside my head, I tried to shake it off but that made it hurt even more.

Whoever was doing this to us put a rag in my mouth so I couldn’t speak, my only option was to try another way to convey messages to her that it would be alright, that somehow we would both get out of there alive, yet I didn’t feel it and knew that my message fell far short of what I wanted; instead, my body language was telling her that it would not be a happy ending tonight.

Maybe she finally got that message because I saw her shoulders sag and then start to shake as the tears began to flow, her entire being sagged under the weight of that, and she shifted her gaze downward.

I felt she didn’t want my feelings of despair to infect her feelings of hope and escape to see another day and was so frustrated at letting her feel that way, but nothing was working in our favor.

While I was still trying to think of something I might be able to do for her, some way to at least calm her, he stabbed me.

I felt a sharp blade going into my shoulder and tried to scream but the sound was choked off by the filthy rag in my mouth, I turned as much as I could away from him, but he moved with me while he stayed just out of my sight.

Then he twisted the blade in my shoulder to make me stop moving, leaning forward as if we were old friends he softly whispered into my ear; Don’t worry little trooper, I’m not going to kill you, I just wanted you to know what she was going to be feeling for a while and that you can’t stop me, you’re going to have to live with that reality for the rest of your miserable fucking life! he said.

Or! he said and then paused, "I could push a little harder and to my left until