Jade wiped her hands on her dress. The smear of blood stained only the lower half of it. No one would notice, she thought. The others hadn’t, and on the faded burgundy fabric, it blended seamlessly. A private grin tugged at her mouth.
She smoothed her hair into a mousy bun and buttoned her sweater up to her neck. In her boot, her blood-soaked razor stuck out like a severed finger. She pressed it down and held out her thumb again.
The Nevada sun seared the horizon behind the Exxon gas station and the asphalt shimmered as cars drifted past one by one. Twenty minutes passed before one slowed. A bald man drove the station wagon with two children and their dog in the backseat. A blonde woman in the passenger seat whispered something to him, and he straightened up before driving on.
The fire in her eyes flared. They would have been easy. Another family on her list would have made her squeal with delight, and she wouldn’t have spared the mutt.
She slid her glasses up her nose. She didn’t need them; they were for show. They lent her an air of quaint demureness, like a porcelain doll. She had taken them in Arizona from an old praying woman before she slit her throat. She painted on a cheerful smile and lifted her thumb again.
She watched the evening stars bloom in the sky as baby blue washed into lavender. Five more minutes crawled by before a red Trans Am growled to a stop beside her. She peeked in and was startled.
The man behind the wheel was surprisingly young and handsome and dressed in a pressed shirt and neat slacks. She expected a grimy, old man with missing teeth to be driving the rust bucket.
He smiled kindly. “It’ll be dark soon, do you need a ride?”
“I do. Thank you,” she said and climbed in. As the door clicked shut she adjusted her backpack and the faint rancid odor from inside it reached her. It was the body parts she removed yesterday as trophies.
Unalarmed, she smiled coyly and waited for him to drive. She’d dispose of it later after dealing with him. He pressed the car forward and merged onto the interstate.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
“California…eventually. I haven’t decided on where yet.”
“Well, I’m not going that far, but I can take you to Grand Bluff. It’s about forty miles from here. It’s a little closer to your destination.”
“Thank you. That’s perfect.”
He turned down the radio but she could faintly hear the country song and the woman who crooned softly. “So…” they both said at once.
He laughed softly. “Excuse my manners. Ladies first.”
He was a gentleman. She might regret killing him, but she knew she wouldn’t hesitate. She never did. Just like the last gentleman in Colorado. He drove her to the state line, and after the rest area emptied, she pulled out her razor and cut him. Then she grabbed his tire iron and beat him in the head.
When he was on his last breath, he whimpered about his newborn son. Her final words to him: “Parents die. It’s what they do.” Then she jabbed the tire iron into his eye. It took her two days to wash the brain matter from her hair.
She remembered it fondly, then turned to him with a sweet grin. “So, what’s your name? I’m Jade.”
“I’m Erik.”
“I like your car. My dad had one just like this when I was growing up.” Lie and relate, she thought.
Everyone wants to feel connected. What did she know about connecting to anyone? She grew up on the streets and had to be brutal to survive. Connecting was a skill she learned, no matter how insincere it was.
“Thanks,” he said and patted the dashboard fondly. “I’m on my way to Grand Bluff to get a room at the Premiere Motel. It’s nice to have some company for the ride.”
He exited the interstate and merged onto a long stretch of highway framed by the Rockies. The sun bled out behind them as shadows stretched across the pavement and darkness swallowed them. The sign for Grand Bluff flashed by and read fifteen miles away. No other cars passed and after they put another five miles behind them she discreetly reached for her razor and clenched it in her palm.
“How about a game to pass the time?” he said. He shut the radio off and the only sound was the rolling tires against the road. “Game? How about I spy?” she teased.
“No, something better. Let’s compare our day and whoever had the most outlandish day wins.”
Her lips twitched. Her truth would send his smile into a spiral. Just that morning an elderly couple had taken her in for breakfast and before she left, she tied them up and dismembered them with a cleaver she found in their kitchen. She hated screamers, and the ones who prayed before their death. It was pathetic.
“I’ll decline,” she said. “My life is boring. I’m just a hitchhiker on her way to California.” Her eyes widened and she hoped she sounded as innocent as she pretended. “I’m off to start my life in whatever big city I choose. But, please, tell me about your outlandish day. I’d love to listen.” She tightened the grip on her razor.
He glanced at her and tilted his head. “Humor me, Jade. It wasn’t a request. I said, tell me something about your day.” His smile faded.
“Well…” she began slowly, “I was picked up by a wonderful stranger who not only made me feel welcome but safe.”
“Who?” He frowned.
“You, of course.”
“Me? I’m honored.” He touched his chest. “I made you feel welcome and safe. That was the goal. I’ve outdone myself today. I impress myself more every day with people like you.” He paused, “My outlandish day, however, consisted of hearing about an old couple who were heinously murdered and then dismembered. Then I heard the horrific details of two innocent sisters who were killed yesterday while camping. Pieces of their body were removed. One heart. One liver. And both of their tongues.”
He looked at her, really looked, and it was in that moment for the first time, she felt exposed. She played naïve. It was impossible he knew what she did or the body parts in her backpack. That was foolish for her to think.
Her voice sharpened. “Disgusting world we live in, huh?”
“Yes, indeed. It’s despicable. But tonight, Jade, is going to be a beautiful night for you. Just like you made so many others’ nights beautiful too.” He smiled but it never reached his eyes.
Her hands turned cold and fear erupted inside her for the first time. She lunged towards him but before she could drive the razor into his throat, he plunged a needle into her thigh and she fell back. Her world spiraled to black, and she passed out.
Her vision flickered.
She moaned.
Her head throbbed.
Jade stumbled back into consciousness and forced her eyes open an hour later. The sounds of metal clanked and dropped around her. She couldn’t move her body and the tape over her mouth prevented her from screaming. The overhead light that was strung up swayed back and forth, and it was the only thing she could focus on.
She twisted and jerked but was immovable on the hard surface. Erik came into view. The light above him made it look like a menacing halo around his head. He was covered in plastic and a metal mask sat on top of his head.
The blowtorch hung in his hand and spat fire. “Jade, there you are. You’re just in time. We’re about to get started. If you were familiar with this location you’d know the Premiere Motel has been abandoned for years and you might have tried to escape.”
She panicked and tears streamed down her face. She wanted to scream and run and get as far away from him as she could.
“I’m sorry!” she mumbled but it came out garbled. He paused and a flicker of hope ignited in her.
“Jade, do you honestly think apologizing now will make up for all that you did?”
“Please…!” Her words were incoherent.
He shook his head and his eyes hardened. He lowered the mask and turned the blowtorch up. It crackled as he stepped towards her and the hiss of the flame filled the room. Her sobs were drowned out as fire seared through her flesh down to the bone. The acrid scent of burned tissue stung her nostrils. Pain surged through her like lightning as her muted screams rose and her skin began to melt.
The next morning the sun rose over the desert as Erik’s cell phone went off. It was Deets. He crumbled up the remains from the night before and discarded them in one of the shallow graves he had dug.
On the third ring he answered. “Good morning, boss.”
“Morning to you. Are you finished yet?”
He imagined Deets sipping his morning coffee with his various maps of the U.S. highlighted and circled in different regions, and hundreds of papers thrown across his desk. In his back room, surveillance screens flickered as the others tracked and worked in silence. Deets would probably call one of his other team members after their briefing, he guessed.
“Yes, sir. She’s finished. I buried her remains behind an old motel on Seneca Road.” He clutched his stomach as a wave of regret hit him, “It never feels quite right to kill the women.”
“Stop that!” Deets dismissed. “You’re doing good work, Erik. You’re all doing good work. You’re a good team. Another threat has been neutralized. She can’t hurt anyone again. Think of your mother. Imagine if someone would have taken out the man that killed her.”
He was right. Deets was always right.
Erik’s sympathy hardened into ice as he remembered why he joined the organization—to avenge his mother and to hunt serial killers, and give them back the pain they’d inflicted on others.
“Next assignment, sir?”
“The man’s name is Callaghan. Vinny Callaghan. He’s traveling around your location in his old RV. So far, by our records, he’s been linked to the death of three boys and a young girl. We won’t make it a fifth. He moves quickly but the surveillance on him is heavy.”
Erik jumped into his car, “Give me the location, boss.”
“He’s northwest of you, in a small town called Benton. It’s a three-hour drive. You better get going. He’s at the Meads View RV Park. I’ll give you the rest of the details when you arrive. Let’s take this scumbag out tonight.”
“I’m on it,” he said and started his engine.
Cheryl Brown
Cheryl J. Brown has been a lifelong lover of horror and science fiction. She studied Mass Communication and Psychology at Winthrop University. When she isn't writing short stories, you can find her with her beloved husband and dog by her side.