The Past Present: Beast, #1

By J. R. Rada

What is that makes a man?
Body or soul?
What releases the beast within?

 

No one knows all the atrocities the Nazis committed against the Jewish prisoners in WWII concentration camps. Evidence of the crimes was reduced to silent ashes in the ovens. The few survivors will not speak of the hideous experiments Nazis doctors performed on them. Eva Lachman has told no one of the experiment that led to the birth of her twin boys, Jacob and Esau, at Auschwitz in 1944. She fears what would happen to them if the truth is known.

In 1993, Karl Mueller, the Nazi doctor who created the twins, has tracked Eva and her sons to the small town of Fleetwood, Md. He is determined to kill the twins, who are now men in their 40s. He considers it an act of penance for his crime against nature.

Daniel Levitt is a Nazi hunter on the trail of Dr. Mueller. Mueller killed his grandparents and left his father a paraplegic while they were at Auschwitz. Daniel is growing weary of his work, but this will be his last mission. He finds Mueller in Fleetwood, but he also finds the Lachman twins. Daniel has spent his life chasing after men whose victims he cannot help, but in Esau Lachman, Daniel might have found someone who needs his help.

The Past Present is the first episode in the Beast series. In this story, Daniel is put on the trail of Karl Mueller, who has tracked his own quarry to Fleetwood. Eva has instilled her own fear of Mueller in her boys. In Jacob's case, it has caused a paranoid fear that he is beginning to act upon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AIM Publishing
• Release date: Oct 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215467657

J. R. Rada

J. R. Rada is the author of seven novels, a non-fiction book and a non-fiction collection. These include the historical novels Canawlers, October Mourning, Between Rail and River and The Rain Man. His other novels are Logan’s Fire, Beast and My Little Angel. His non-fiction books are Battlefield Angels: The Daughters of Charity Work as Civil War Nurses and Looking Back: True Stories of Mountain Maryland.He lives in Gettysburg, Pa., where he works as a freelance writer. Jim has received numerous awards from the Maryland-Delaware-DC Press Association, Associated Press, Maryland State Teachers Association and Community Newspapers Holdings, Inc. for his newspaper writing.If you would like to be kept up to date on new books being published by J. R. Rada or ask him questions, he can be reached by e-mail at [e-mail] see J. R. Rada's other books or to order copies on-line, go to jamesrada.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

July 3, 1993

Robert Armentrout kept looking back over his shoulder as he hiked the C&O Canal Towpath. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw dark figures moving behind him on the trail, but each time he turned to look directly, he and his wife were always the only living things in sight.

In front of him, Diane hummed a country song as she walked with her bouncing stride. He would much rather watch his wife’s shapely legs and butt move, but the shadow figures kept distracting him. He thought it might be another hiker, but when Robert turned... nothing.

He sighed and told himself he needed to rest, and if possible, sleep. It was getting dark, and it would be hard to see the dirt trail soon. They had walked their twenty-five mile goal for the day, and Richard wanted to make camp for the night. Better yet, he would have preferred to find a place to stay in Fleetwood, but they had passed through there an hour ago and hadn’t seen another town since.

If they waited too much longer, they would be making camp in the dark, which was never fun.

He and Diane had been on the trail for six days now. She wanted to reach the end in Cumberland tomorrow night. Robert thought that would be nice, but he doubted it would be the case.

The C&O Canal Towpath was 184.5 miles long running from Georgetown, near Washington D.C., to Cumberland, Maryland. The Armentrouts had started in Georgetown and covered 153 miles so far. That meant they would be hiking at least another eleven hours before they finished the trail. They had been averaging about eight hours a day. The math was betraying them.

Robert enjoyed taking his time on hikes. He enjoyed stopping to photograph the sites. He had even taken a swim in the Potomac River two days ago. For him, hikes were all about the journey. Diane just wanted to get from point A to point B as soon as she could. For her, it was a race.

What’s that song you’ve been humming since we left Fleetwood? Robert asked.

It’s called ‘Romeo.’ It was playing on the radio in the store, Diane answered and immediately started humming again.

Singing about me again, are you? Robert teased.

Don’t you wish, Diane said in tune with the music.

Robert wiped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief. He still hadn’t become animal enough to use the back of his arm. Give him to the end of the week.

I thought you didn’t like country music, he said as he stuffed the white handkerchief into his front pocket.

I like this song.

Near another of the dozens of abandoned locks along the long ditch that was once a major commerce route, the towpath turned west abruptly. They starting hiking away from the Potomac River, which they had been paralleling until now.

Robert looked back over his shoulder toward the river and thought he saw something dart upward into the trees. He stared for a little while longer but didn’t see any movement.

Look at that, Diane cooed. Isn’t it gorgeous?

The sun was getting low on the horizon, and it was right over the towpath, so that it looked like they were walking right into the sun.

Robert held his hand over his eyes to act as a visor as he looked into the setting sun, but when he caught a whiff of his underarm odor, he lowered his arm. So much for his deodorant’s long-lasting protection.

He sat down on the ground and leaned back against a tree. If it wouldn’t have hurt his pride to say so, he would have announced he was too old for this sort of vacation. Next year, he wanted to take a Mediterranean cruise and sit around while people waited on him.

Fat chance of that happening with Miss Fitness helping plan their trips.

Did we buy any milk in Fleetwood? He had a craving for a nice cold glass of skim milk right now.

You bought a pint and drank it. Anything more wouldn’t have kept, Diane said.

She turned to take a quick picture of him as he leaned against the tree. He flipped her the bird just as she took the shot.

That ought to make a lovely picture for the photo album, Diane said sarcastically.

I want an eight by ten for the living room. His wife turned back to taking shots of the scenery and he flipped her the bird. And I know that milk wouldn’t keep, but I want my cow juice, he said as he struggled to his feet, which was nearly impossible with a fifty-pound pack on his back. Do you suppose there’s a 7-Eleven at the top of the hill?

You’re lucky there was a store in Fleetwood. This is an isolated stretch of the towpath. Diane started hiking again. She waved for her husband to catch up. C’mon, I want to get another mile before we settle down for tonight.

Robert groaned.

We should have stayed in Fleetwood. We’re not that far from it, and the cashier at the grocery store said there was a bed-and-breakfast just outside of town, Robert said, hoping he might persuade to turn back. Sleeping on the hard ground was messing up his back as much as carrying the pack.

We’re not hiking to stay in a hotel, Diane said.

No, we’re hiking to give ourselves coronaries. What beautiful words! Bed and breakfast, Robert shouted dramatically.

Stop complaining, you wimp, Diane teased.

Robert reached forward and yanked on Diane’s blond ponytail. She yelled and almost fell backwards.

You wouldn’t want to stay in town, anyway. Look at the friend you made while you were there, that guy who kept calling you Mueller, Diane told her husband.

You can have him. I’ll take the cute redhead in the grocery store, Robert taunted.

She’s too young for you, Hon. Forget the hike. She would give you a coronary. Besides, the big guy is your friend, not mine. You told him so. You shouldn’t have agreed with him.

It got him to leave us alone, didn’t it?

When they had walked out of the grocery store in Fleetwood with the supplies they had bought, a man had walked up to them. He had the flat-appearing features of someone with Down’s syndrome. He was also at least 100 pounds heavier than Robert, with arms as large as Robert’s head.

Are you Mueller? the man had asked.

Afraid not, Robert had said as he dipped his plastic spoon into his chocolate ice cream.

He and Diane had started walking toward an access trail behind the country store. The huge man had continued following them.

Are you Mueller? he asked again.