Chapter 33

The hairs on his arm stood rigidly at attention. He could smell her. The fear that emanated from her body was like a calling card. He had watched her from the alley across the street. He laughed while she cried. He nearly cried with pleasure watching her lose it because he had smothered the life out Miriam. He felt powerful. It was thrilling to know he had caused her such pain. There would be more pain before the night was over.

He watched her run back into the building. He wondered what she was up to. When she didn’t lock the door and she didn’t come back out, his hands began to sweat. A single idea danced in his brain. He could take her here! That would be exquisite.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he sprinted across the street to the radio station.

He pulled the glass door open and waited for the chime to announce his presence. When he walked into the front office, he knew she knew he was there, so he dispensed of any pretense to hide.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he began calling as he walked through the building. He made his voice high pitched as he scratched the walls with his finger nails.

His steps were light, his thoughts jumbled as his mind whirled with evil ways to make Cat suffer. His shoes squeaked a little as he walked through the offices with a large knife clutched in his hand. Every few seconds he called out to her. Each time she heard, “Here, kitty-kitty,” sickening nausea, like fingers - stuck in her throat. Her original plan was to lure him inside, hide and call Sullivan. She thought she was prepared for this. She thought she could take him on her own. But fear slapped at her brain. Its fierceness grew exponentially with each sinister word that he spoke.

She cowered behind a nearby desk with a pistol in one hand and her cell phone in the other, suddenly forgetting how to use both.

Tonight would be the last night she mocked him, he thought, as he crept from room to room. His eyes worked hard to adjust to the darkness. He scanned methodically while he continued to torture her mind.

“Here, kitty-kitty. Come out, come out wherever you are.”

He planned to carry her back to the wooden shed behind his house. Only special girls got to see it. She would be pleased to know that she’d be the first to use the small second-hand cot he had recently added for her comfort. It’s not like he was a monster or anything, he thought, with a wicked smile. He could hardly wait to hear her scream, to watch her suffer and plead for her life – it was exhilarating just thinking of it.

Cat knew she had waited too long to use her cell phone. She saw a tiny gleam of light reflecting off the large blade he held in his hand. Before she realized it, her shaky hand raised the pistol and pointed it up at him.

He intended to spend some quality time with Cat; hours, if not days, teaching her to respect him. That’s what every female needed to learn: respect. His plans were changed instantly when he felt a burning sensation in his right shoulder. The sound of the gunshot seemed to stun his senses for a moment. He was trying to figure out what had just happened when he heard another pop. The second shot spun him completely around. He dropped to the ground face first.

Cat held the pistol in both of her trembling hands. She got up slowly and walked closer to the crumpled form bleeding on the carpet. Head to toe, he was dressed in all black. She didn’t recognize him until she nudged him with her foot and saw his face. That’s when she saw his sharp profile. The thick brow, the stellar nose, the square jaw: it was Warren Garrison.

She circled his body, walking carefully around his head and stooped to pick up her cell phone which she had dropped during the shooting. She pushed the number 9, but that was as far as she got.

Warren lashed out like an injured tiger with the knife he still held in his hand. It sliced a nasty gash in Cat’s calf. Her scream pierced the air as she grabbed for her injured leg and stumbled a few steps. Warren wrapped his arms around her ankles, pulling her to the floor with a thud. Losing her balance, she dropped the gun before she fell on top of him. Struggling to break free of his grasp, she thrashed and kicked. After several unsuccessful attempts, she managed to knock the knife from his hand, but he held tight to her legs with vice-like claws. They rolled together on the floor, tumbling into a wooden desk, the wall, and several chairs while each tried to yank fists full of hair from the other’s head. She clawed at his eyes with her nails, gouging his cheek in the process.

With every scream, his grip grew tighter. With ever scratch or punch, he laughed. He wrestled her over onto her back and pinned her arms down to the ground, then straddled her. Blood dripped off his wounded chest and on to her moist cheek as he yelled for her to stop fighting. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She fought like a wild beast, bucking and kicking. She scratched at his wrists as he held her to the floor. Promising to kill him, she spat in his face.

Clearly, he was winning. His strong legs had her pinned beneath him to the floor, and he wasn’t letting her go. He smiled a sinful knowing smile at her. She drew in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut while visions of what he had done to her previously flashed torturously in her mind.

Just as she was getting her mad renewed, she envisioned her elderly neighbor, Miriam, sprawled on the floor, bloody, beaten and now dead because of him. Somewhere deep within, Cat could feel the hate brew inside her. Like a liquid heating to a boisterous boil, she exploded with a shrill howling scream. Her eyes flew open, and the hidden warrior inside her raged. With a fury she didn’t know she possessed she used her powerful muscular legs to propel Warren off of her. She planted her feet on the floor and used her hips to buck him off and away. She sprung up like a spider and spun away from him before he could react. As fast as her legs could sprint, she darted through open doors, around corners and up a flight of stairs. She never looked back as she ran. She didn’t dare stop to check if Warren was close behind her. She knew he was or soon would be.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she unlocked the rooftop door with a quick twist of her hand, flinging the door wide open. She was out on the flat rooftop in a heartbeat. She ran to the roof’s edge and peered over the side of the building, mentally weighing her options.

“Trust me, you will die if you jump,” Warren laughed. His voice was raspy and weak as he struggled to breathe.

She took one look at his bloody chest and scratched face and smiled at having caused him a little damage. She leaned her back against the low edge of the concrete wall and rested her hands on her hips.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Cat said with no empathy. “You look like you’re not gonna make it. I’ve wanted to watch you die for quite some time now. Looks like I’ll get my wish.” She nearly laughed at the sound of own her voice which sounded unfamiliar to herself.

“Listen to you, Cat. You sound evil. Look how I have changed you,” Warren alleged with a smile.

“You haven’t changed anyone, Warren. You are so pathetic,” Cat laughed.

Both of them stood there looking at each other, sizing up the other’s wounds. Warren put his hands on his knees and bent over at the waist. He coughed up some blood and spit it on the ground by his feet. His eyes never left Cat’s face. He licked his lips and began telling her what he intended to do to her. Cat wasn’t listening anymore though. She knew she only had one choice. She was alone and no one was coming to her aid. She would have to finish Warren herself. She silently prayed for God to help her.

Warren’s whiney voice interrupted her prayers, “I brought you something, Kitty Cat.”

He held up her silver bracelet where she could see it. Blood was smeared all over it. His nasty fingers twirled it around and around. He held out a single bloody finger and motioned for her to come to him.

“Why did you do it, Warren? Why did you kill all those women? Why did you kill Miriam?”

She didn’t expect a reasonable answer. There wasn’t an answer that would make sense or matter now anyway. She was just trying to buy some time. She needed to reassure herself that she had the courage, the strength, the will to see this through, no matter how it ended. Warren didn’t answer her. He just smiled at the knowledge of how much pain he had caused her. His eyes took on an eerie gleam.

“How could you hurt a little old dog?” Cat screamed. “You nearly killed her. She won’t ever be the same!” Cat screamed again.

Warren just laughed. He ran his bloody hands over his chest. “Honey, no woman is ever the same after being with me.”

Cat smirked. She rolled her eyes and just shook her head. “Whatever, Warren. You disgust me.” She pretended to gag a little before she forced a grin across her face.

Her disrespect hit Warren like a searing slap. Cat watched as he stood to his full height and wrapped his fingers around the silver bracelet. She felt his icy stare as a cold wind whipped at her body. She knew he was about to try something so she kept him talking, hoping to keep him distracted.

“I have something for you too, Warren.”

She pulled the silver necklace from her shirt and showed him the silver dove pendant. She ran the pendant up and down the chain and watched as his face changed from anger to pure rage.

“Quit calling me Warren and take that stupid bird off my necklace,” he screamed.

She watched as his eyes appeared to bulge as he yelled. She wondered if he had quit breathing, his face was so red and the veins in his neck were thick as ropes. Whatever his reasons were for wanting the necklace, she knew without a doubt that he wanted it desperately.

“What is the big deal with this piece of crap? Why do you want it back so badly?” she asked as she held the necklace out from her body.

“Shut your mouth, you whore!” Warren screamed. He shook with fury.

Cat watched as his foamy mouth spat as he yelled. She saw that his legs were shaking. Feeling panic begin to rise in her throat, she swallowed a few insults she wanted to yell back at him. She wasn’t ready yet to send him reeling.

“Where did you get this necklace, Warren?” She softened her tone a little as she asked. “Who else did you give it to, besides me?”

He shook his head no and yelled, “Trailer trash like you wouldn’t understand.”

“Come one, Warren, tell me.”

He relaxed a little by looking around before he spoke. Using the back of his hand, he wiped at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, since you won’t live to see tomorrow. It won’t matter if I tell you or not.” He cackled. “That necklace was my mother’s. I killed her with it. I killed every whore I ever knew with it, just like I’m going to kill you with it.”

He threw his head back and laughed like a lunatic then. He laughed so hard and for so long that fear began to plague her mind. She could feel her old self-doubt crawl up her leg like a spider; it clawed at her back and settled like a monstrous weight around her neck. Suddenly, she had a thought! She unfastened the silver chain and held it up for Warren to see. She watched his eyes follow her every move as she slid the dove off the chain and placed it in her pocket. His eyes looked feverish and yellow as she held the naked chain up for him to inspect.

Cat yelled, “Give me the bracelet and the chain is yours!” She watched as he appeared to be thinking over her offer. She knew she sounded scared, she could hear her voice cracking. Her mind was racing with ideas to distract Warren when she thought of the man who she watched die.

“Why did you kill that guy by my car? What did he ever do to you?” Cat asked.

“That loser died because he was incompetent,” he yelled. “You should have died too that night.”

She shuddered at the thought.

“What is the deal with this worthless chain, Warren? Why not just get another one?”

Cat could tell Warren was getting tired of talking. He ignored her and examined his wounds. He was losing a lot of blood. She watched as he straightened his shirt collar and tucked his shirt back into his pants. She could almost see his anger renew his resolve to kill her. He appeared confident that he could. He believed he could snuff out her life like that of all his other victims. He smoothed his hair back with a hand covered in blood and narrowed his nearly black eyes at her. The sinister smile that crossed his face had bile filling Cat’s mouth.

For a brief moment the thought crossed her mind that today would be her last day on the planet. She cursed her weakness and forced herself to stand tall and face him. She could hear a voice screaming inside her head as Warren walked slowly towards her like a jackal waiting to pounce on his prey. The closer he came, the louder the voice in her head became. It was screaming for her to run, but her feet felt cemented in place. For some unknown reason she raised her arm and held the silver chain out to him like an olive branch. The horrible smile that played on his lips twisted her gut. He was within an arm’s reach when she assured herself that his overconfidence would be his own demise. He took the chain from her hand and absent-mindedly handed her the silver bracelet.

She kept her eyes on him, watching as he gingerly fingered the chain. He appeared lost in cherished memories as he wound the chain through his fingers. She wondered if he was reliving each murder he had ever committed as he studied the necklace. In turn, she glanced at the silver brace-let, slid it on her arm and read the inscription engraved around its outside edge: “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

The truth will make you free? How many times had she heard that from one or both of her parents? Cat couldn’t know for certain, but somewhere in the hundreds, if not thousands. She thought of her parents. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about never seeing them again. No matter what happened, she would see them again. Her faith would see her through.

Warren’s arms grabbed her before she finished the thought. He was putting the necklace back around her neck as she struggled against him. His body weight pinned her against the wall as he clasped the chain at the nape of her neck. She was thinking how rank he smelled, as he buried his face in her hair. Every inch of her body repelled his touch.

She held her breath and forced the involuntary gagging sensation to stop as he whispered in her ear, “I love what you have done with your hair and you smell so good, baby.”

She struggled to get free. “Stop it, Warren!” she yelled. She tried pushing him away, but he was too strong. “Get off me,” she said, but Warren didn’t budge.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me you’ll never leave me,” Warren demanded.

When she didn’t answer, he tightened his grip on her neck and slid his fingers through the chain on her neck. He twisted the chain mercilessly as it cinched tightly against her skin. She began to choke and struggled to get her fingers under the chain.

Panic slammed her mind into action. She bent her knees and lowered her body slightly, as she had learned in her self-defense class. Warren meanwhile, continued twisting the chain, cutting off her air as it bit into the tender flesh of her neck. Cat quickly drew her right leg back and then brought her knee up rapidly into Warren’s crotch. Immediately his grip loosened, and she worked the fingers of both hands between her neck and the chain.

As Warren dropped to the ground groaning in pain, Cat jumped clear of him and darted away. She stretched a shaking hand out to the door handle of the roof door just as Warren grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her back viciously. The pain seared her senses and had her seeing stars.

“Trying to leave me again?” he yelled.

His body was sticky with sweat as he pressed himself against her back. The revolt that Cat’s stomach had staged earlier came back with a full vengeance. Dry heaves wracked her body as the tiny flashes of light performed a floating dance before her watering eyes. He forced her to her knees with one torturous jerk of her hair.

“Now I’m going to teach you some respect, slut.” He screamed.

Without waiting to see what he had in mind, Cat let go of his hand that held her hair and felt for the blade she had hid-den in the sole of her shoe. She wrapped her fingers around the woven handle and moved with deadly stealth as she plunged the knife blade deep into his inner thigh. She knew she had hit her target when massive spurts of bright red blood sprang into view on his slacks and then began pouring down his leg.

She ran back across the rooftop to the ledge. She would jump if she had to, she decided.

Warren realized he was bleeding to death. He screamed a list of obscenities that had Cat turning back around to face him. They stood there staring at each other, accepting their own fates.

Warren ran with incredible speed towards her. Cat didn’t know how or why she did what she did next. She crouched down in a fighter’s stance, preparing for his attack. When Warren reached her, he was running full blast. With agility she didn’t know she had, she side-stepped out of his way and pushed him all at once.

He hit the low wall and toppled over, disappearing out of sight.

Cat stood, feeling nothing for a few seconds before realizing what had happened. Slowly she took a step, then another, as she neared the edge of the building. She peeked over the side of the ledge. She had to see this through to the end, she told herself. Once she saw Warren’s mangled body on the concrete below, she could breathe normally again.

Warren wasn’t dead, though. He hadn’t fallen to the ground. He was hanging onto a bronzed antique light fixture that was mounted to the building. He hung a few feet from the top of the ledge.

“Help me,” he pleaded. “Help!”

Instinct told her to help him. She started to give him her hand, but stopped and pulled her hand back before he grabbed it. She stood there staring at him afraid he would pull her over the edge with him.

“Give me your hand. Please, Cat, help me,” he pleaded.

“I’ll help you, Warren, but don’t try to pull me over with you. Let me help you. I can help you.”

She didn’t know why she did it, but she held her hand out to him. In that split second she saw the transformation in his eyes. The fear of dying, of pleading for help, turned to hatred and malevolence. He smiled as he yanked hard on her arm. The smile faded instantly, though, as he came away with nothing but the silver bracelet as he fell two stories to his death.