Chapter Twenty-Eight

While Craig showered, I went out to ask about his serial killer. I had to put up with some good-natured ribbing about sleeping with the enemy. At least Janie had some information. When I got back to my trailer, Craig was rubbing his hair with my last towel.

“One of the gang said a guy with a mole was looking for me the day after the tornado,” I said.

Craig lit up like a pinball machine when I told him what Janie said. He considered it a solid lead. He got his computer out of his car.

“Craig, using a computer around me isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t worry. I have a surge protector.”

I didn’t make it to the door before the machine died with a zap and a trail of smoke.

Craig was absolutely jittering with his need to find the guy with the mole. “I don’t want to leave you alone. It’s just that if I don’t find this guy, he’ll kill again.”

My white knight. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. There’re lots of people around. Besides, you need to find another computer and buy some comfortable clothes.” I walked him to the gate. When I hugged him goodbye, he smelled like my apricot shampoo and onions. Not an appealing combination, but I didn’t mind.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I watched him go with his shiny shoes and brown T-shirt. What an endearing geek. I couldn’t get the grin off my face.

When I turned to go back to my tent, Mister D was leaning against the entrance booth. “You know he’s a Fed, don’t you?”

I blushed. “Yeah, I know, but he’s an awfully nice guy. He’s trying to protect me.”

“Mmm…hum, is that what he was doing?” Mister D sauntered off singing “I Shot the Sheriff”, which I thought was in really poor taste.

It was only eight in the morning. Not many people were stirring on the midway yet. The carnival didn’t officially open until ten. I decided to take a walk around the grounds to check how my wards were holding up. As I walked along the low fence by the parking lot, a man stood up from behind a battered Dodge.

I barely had time to register his height and something in his hand when every nerve in my body fired at the same moment. I convulsed and fell twitching to the ground. There were wires coming from my shoulder. I heard him jump the fence. I tried to roll away. My muscles wouldn’t respond. They just shuddered randomly. I saw the dangling mole as he leaned over me. It was the crazy mark from Cleveland. The adrenalin surge caused my muscles to go rigid. I tasted acid vomit in my mouth. Why did I let Craig leave?

He muttered, “I am an instrument of God,” as he heaved me over the fence. I felt the chain link rip into my back as I fell. The air whooshed out of my lungs when I hit the ground. I moved my arms and legs with some volition, swimming away across the ground on my back. With the eerie smile I remembered, he pressed the gun’s button, sending me back into convulsions.

Amidst my jerking and twitching, I saw Big Mike looming over the crazy. I thought, I’m saved. As Mike touched him, the crazy whirled, quick as a snake. I don’t know where the knife came from, but in one smooth motion, he cut Mike’s throat. I watched, still twitching uncontrollably. Mike fell on the other side of the fence. He looked right at me. His mouth moved…only blood bubbled out. More blood spurted from the artery in his neck. His eyes glazed over. Oh, Mike. I tried to scream but only managed a gargled, gulping noise.

The crazy pulled me into the back seat of his car. I lost sight of Mike. He shoved something large and soft into my mouth. My spastic limbs were useless as I tried to kick and scratch. He taped my hands and ankles together. A rag with a gagging sweet smell took the last of the fight out of me.