The Hunt Begins: Beast

By J. R. Rada

Nazi hunter Daniel Levitt has come to small town of Fleetwood, Md., looking for the notorious Mueller the Mauler, a concentration camp doctor from WWII. However, something that can do worse than Mueller ever did to his victims is prowling and killing in the Western Maryland forest. Daniel is not hunting it, but it may be hunting him.

Karl Mueller, Daniel's quarry, has also come to Fleetwood. He is seeking one of his former "patients", Eva Lachman. She has been hiding in Fleetwood for years with her twin sons, but Mueller tracked her down. He is dying and wants to terminate the experiment he started with her in 1944.

Victim, abuser, and hunter converge in Fleetwood hunting and avoiding each other, but this can only last for so long in a small town, particularly when the residents are already worried about the brutal deaths nearby.

The Hunt Begins is the second episode in the serial story, Beast, that began with The Past Present.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AIM Publishing
• Release date: Oct 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201278755

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 7, 1993

The yard behind the brick ranch house was large and well-kept. Joseph Speer looked out of the large rear window, appreciating the landscaping in the back yard. It was obvious the owners took good care of their property. Large oak trees filled the yard and offered cool shade in the hot July sun. A split-rail fence ran around the edge of the property. The grass was a rich shade of green and neatly trimmed so that it resembled a golfing fairway.

His mother would have loved this house if she had been alive to see it. Would he ever own such a house, and would he ever have a wife and children to share it with?

He shook his head and tried to keep from crying. Who was he kidding? He would never lead a normal life. This piece of Americana would never be his life, at least not until his life was his own, and he could make his own decisions. Only then would he have a chance to live the life he wanted to live. He might even find Regina again and bring her back here. She would love this place just as he did. He chuckled at that bit of foolishness. Regina would surely be married with children by now. Still, he couldn’t help but imagine her standing beneath one of the massive oaks, looking out over the field of green. He saw her wearing a white summer dress. Her dark hair was tied behind her head in a ponytail. She was walking barefoot through the grass, holding her sandals in her hand.

The owner of the house and Joseph’s father conversed a few feet behind Joseph. It was small talk about how friendly Fleetwood was and how the townspeople would make the Speers feel like a member of a close-knit family. Joseph almost laughed when he heard the woman say that. What would she say if she knew she was talking to the dreaded Dr. Karl Mueller–Mueller the Mauler, as the Jew writers for the newspapers liked to call him? Would this killer of Jews be welcome in Fleetwood then?

Joseph still wasn’t sure why his father had insisted they come to America. Things had been peaceful in Brazil. No one suspected them, and people had begun to forget about the war. The Nazi hunters had all but vanished. Then three months ago his father had received a letter from the United States, and now suddenly they were here.

Joseph blinked and his vision of Regina vanished from the yard. He sighed and turned from the window. His father sat on a blue-pastel sofa staring at the owner, who was a slightly overweight woman in her mid-thirties. Her arms moved rapidly in exaggerated motions as she talked. Albert Speer–that was his father’s name now–was an old man with folds of loose skin hanging from his chin and a thin layer of white hair covering his head. He sat next to the woman, slowly nodding his head. Joseph asked himself once again if this man could have killed the thousands of people he was said to have killed.

Perhaps. Then again, it could be another Jewish lie, probably spread by the Nazi hunter who killed his mother. That was more likely. The Jews accused the Nazis of wanting every Jew dead, but they were just as bad. His mother hadn’t been a Nazi, only married to one. That hadn’t mattered to them. They had killed her anyway. Her life had been worth more than the lives of ten... of a hundred... of a thousand Jews.

Albert Speer coughed hard, and Joseph hurried to his father’s side.

His father’s cough was worse than it had been last month. Joseph didn’t need to be a doctor to know that. The cough was deeper and more filled with phlegm. If Joseph could recognize the difference in the cough in that short a time, he knew his father was sick. Albert coughed into a handkerchief, and Joseph glimpsed a puddle of dark-green phlegm before his father stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket. The stubborn old man wouldn’t go to see a doctor. It was true that doctors made the worst patients. As far back as Joseph could remember, he couldn’t recall his father ever going to the doctor, no matter how sick he had gotten. Perhaps his father was afraid that as a patient, the doctors would treat him the same as Mueller the Mauler had treated the Jewish prisoners.

Albert regained his breath and patted his son on the thigh. Then he looked at the owner and smiled at her. Her hands had stopped moving, and she now sat on the far end of the couch. Her expression made Joseph think she was worried more about having an old man die in her house than if his father was all right.

Forgive me, Albert said, I am getting over a case of bronchitis I had last month. It was a lie, but a sharp glance from Albert told Joseph not to contradict him.

The woman smiled, but her eyes still looked worried. I’m glad you’re feeling better. She let the comment hang in the air, waiting for Albert to agree. When he didn’t, she turned her attention to Joseph. I was just telling your father what an ideal home this would be for the both of you, Mr. Speer. It’s far enough away from D.C. and Baltimore not to be affected by their fast pace of life, but close enough, so that you could get to either city within two or three hours, the owner said, giving the house one last pitch.

She had already spent an hour showing them the house, but as soon as Karl had seen the large basement, Joseph knew he would rent the place. A large area that couldn’t be seen easily was just the place Karl needed to set up his laboratory. Not that he had any human patients to carry out his experiments on nowadays. However, he was still very interested in the fields of genetics and biotechnology.

Joseph nodded in agreement with the woman’s comment. Would you and your husband be interested in selling rather than simply renting this house out? he asked. Not that he believed his father would let him purchase the house, even if it was for sale. He just wanted to entertain the dream, if only for a little while longer.

Karl’s grip tightened on Joseph’s thigh. No, Joseph, we only need to rent for a few months. No more.

But... Joseph began to say, then he saw the look in his father’s blue eyes harden. This was a look that sharpened into a point, and it was aimed at Joseph. Yes, thought Joseph, this man could have killed 6,000 Jews.

Joseph looked at the owner and said, "If we were to give you a check for the first- and last-month’s