Dr. Death
Kendra came to wearing a frozen halo of pain.
Everything hurt, but at least she had her wits about her. She knew exactly where she was and why. Without waiting for the pity party to start, Kendra turned over on her belly and started to crawl. The shivering was so severe her chattering teeth caught the tip of her tongue, but she was so cold she didn’t care.
She had managed to fall into the deepest part of the ravine. To make things worse, recent rains had softened the steep sides. Loose shale lay scattered all around her. It was the same area where Nicky Webb’s pup had been found months earlier. Kendra had no idea how she would get back up the precipitous slope, but she knew she had no choice.
Here and there were tiny plants—saplings of some kind—that she used as handholds as she inched her way diagonally across the wall of the ravine. Twice she lost her grip and felt herself sliding backward, scraping more skin off her belly in the process. But she never slid all the way back. Each time she would simply dig in her toes and wait for friction to stop her. The handcuffs actually helped. What she couldn’t grasp with her stiff, nearly useless fingers, she could nab with the chain or dig into using the iron plate.
Every few minutes she would have to rest and will the world to stop spinning. Most likely a mild concussion. But nothing to do except keep going. “Don’t let them go to sleep.” That’s what she’d always been told when her children were playing high school sports. In case of head injury, “get to the doctor fast and keep them awake until you get there.” Ha-ha. Fooled you all. Got my nap already, and I’m not dead. Not even close.
She licked up a mouthful of snow and let it melt on her tongue.
Thanks to her exertions the shivering had lessened somewhat and the snow soothed her thirst. Thanks to the cold, she barely felt the painful throbbing of her lips and face. As she realized the extent of her injuries, anger flooded back into her body. Bastard, she thought. You’ll pay for this. She welcomed the red-hot emotion as if it were a warm, fuzzy blanket.
And then she stopped to rest again.
But she didn’t stay still for long.
Her body began to ache where the snow had touched her exposed torso and hands. She bent her knees and pushed herself upward once again. From the air, one would have thought her a human crab scuttling across the side of the ravine in slow motion.
She tried to focus on something other than the pain. She imagined Woody talking to her. His face appeared in her mind’s eye like a carrot in front of a horse. I’m coming, Ken, she imagined him saying. You just tell me where you are, and I’ll be there. We’ll catch him together. But first, I’ve got to find you. Just tell me where you are.
Kendra renewed her efforts.
Inch by torturous inch, she dragged herself sideways and upwards across the rough ground. Her fingernails were short. She was able to grasp the smallest plant and dig into the earth without bending the nails backward. She dug her toes in, too. And it was in this manner that, in less than an hour, she crested the lip of the ravine and lay like a dead thing, frozen feet hanging off in space behind her.
She cupped her hands in front of her mouth and breathed into them to warm the cold air and thaw her burning blue fingers. The steel cuffs were narrow bands of pain around her wrists, the frozen landscape a cruel lover tenderly soothing the pain of her injuries one moment, savagely inflicting more in the next.
I’m here, Woods. She conjured an image of the ravine in her mind and tried to send it with her message. She didn’t believe or disbelieve in ESP or spiritual connections. She just knew he would find her if she showed him the way. I’m here, Woody, right here.
She curled her miserable body into a fetal position to conserve warmth around her core, and then she dozed.
***
He waited until she was all the way to the top of the ravine. He’d just crept away from watching the fun at his latest site when he spied her crabbing her way up the side. He was filthy from head to toe, blood mixed with grave dirt. He’d showered at home, but that had been several hours earlier. His darling Candy hadn’t even been completely dry when he’d wrestled her into the shallow grave. Without realizing it, he’d wiped her blood across his face more than once.
Adding to his demented look was an expensive pair of infrared field glasses hanging around his neck. They certainly came in handy at night. One more thing Candy won’t be able to nag me about—expensive toys.
Injuries no longer an issue due to the pain pills, the doctor hunkered down and waited until he was certain Kendra Dean was either asleep or unconscious inside her gray hoodie.
He raised the glasses to his eyes. Even with the expensive binoculars, she was little more than a wet lump curled up in the snow. Perhaps I should simply leave her. She’ll freeze to death soon enough, and the snow will cover her completely, possibly until spring. By then my car will be at the bottom of a cliff and I’ll be in Mexico, maybe even farther south. Hope they appreciate me when I’m gone. I’m giving them everything but a map, just to make it interesting. But maybe I should have left them a map, too. I am The Killer Cartographer, after all. He chuckled at the thought, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to simply leave her like that. She owed him something. And that something could only be paid in blood.
When he was certain she had stopped moving, he lowered the glasses and began to make his way toward her. He was amazed she’d made it out of the ravine at all, especially in that area. He was much farther along the top of the ravine, in a little crossover he’d used before. It was tucked away in a thick stand of trees and boulders right at the edge of his land. It was one of his favorite places. His woods.
Back at the house, he’d stuffed his winter hiking boots and socks into the passenger seat of his car. The trunk had been full. Candy may have been petite, but rolled up in their fat bedspread she had taken up a surprising amount of space.
There had also been quite a bit of blood and gore. He’d made an unholy mess with the chemicals, but it couldn’t be helped, he’d been rushed.
He wasn’t worried about that now, though. That chapter of his life had ended. Candy and her baby-fetish had put the quietus to that. Now, he had a new plan. A grand one. But first, there was the little matter of Detective Know-it-all.
As he crept along the edge of the ravine, he pulled another plastic-encased safety scalpel from his pocket. His lug-soled hikers gripped the bitter ground leaving deep imprints in the snow. Every few minutes he stopped and raised the field glasses again. The detective appeared to be unconscious or dead.
He continued toward her, the snow muffling his movements. He wasn’t worried about the cops or searchers. Right now everyone was focused on his most recent girl, not this one. Besides, he’d seen the majority of the volunteers enjoying coffee and hot chocolate back at The Drugstore Café. He’d driven back in front of it only a few hours earlier with Candy packed securely in the trunk.
Soon he had crossed the boulder-strewn area separating the trail from the lip of the narrow ravine. This time, he didn’t hesitate. This time, I’ll do what I should have done three days ago.
She never stirred until he grabbed a fistful of hoodie along with a wad of her hair. With a grunt, he yanked her head back and raised the scalpel high.
Moonlight walked along the edge of the blade.
“Woods?”
The doctor cackled with glee. “Yes, you stupid cow. You’re in the woods. My woods—Dr. Death.” He didn’t know where that had come from, but he wanted to be certain she knew exactly who had bested her. He wanted her to know who was ending her life. “Look at my face!” He crushed her head back exposing her throat to the cold night air. In his other hand, the scalpel was poised to slash. “Look what you did to me.”
The snow had stopped falling; the clouds scudded away. Soft light illuminated his blood-streaked face.
Silence enveloped them.
He pulled her head back even farther. His moment of triumph was at hand, but his adversary was so weak it was like an anticlimax. She’d been so strong, so unpredictable; now she was nothing. Beaten by the elements, not by him.
Disgusted, he drove the blade toward her throat. He was ready to be done with her once and for all.
Kendra wrenched her head to the side.
A minute sound like ripping Velcro left him holding a loose wad of hoodie and a few strands of wavy gray hair.
Unable to stand, Kendra straightened her legs and rolled.
“Stupid bitch.” The hoodie slipped from his grasp and he shook away the hair. “You can’t get away from me. There’s no place for you to go.” He followed her, laughing, as she rolled up against a boulder. “And when they find my corpse in my burning car at the bottom of Jumper’s Point, I’ll be home free.”
While he talked, the detective managed to get into a semi-sitting position, back shoved up against the solid rock.
Holding the surgical instrument like a tiny dagger, the doc stabbed at her arms and face with short thrusts, enjoying the way she cringed and jerked.
Just like in the hidey-hole, Kendra lashed out with her booted feet.
He sidestepped her easily. “No, no, no.” He wagged the scalpel back and forth in front of her eyes like a shaming finger. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice? Not in this lifetime.” He lunged forward, slashing and stabbing with maniacal glee. Guess there’s a bit of life left in the old girl after all!
Kendra held her cuffed hands in front of her face and continued to kick at his knees and ankles. Being wedged up against the large boulder turned out to be a blessing. He couldn’t get behind her, and the solid rock gave her something to push against each time she kicked at him with her booted feet.
“No-o-o!” he shouted. He couldn’t believe she was on the ground and he still couldn’t get close enough to her jugular to end it. Moments earlier, he’d been certain she was on the verge of death.
He renewed his efforts, slashing at her feet and legs with abandon. The short blade drew blood several times, but she managed to kick it away more often than not.
Her hands were also gashed, and the thick sleeves of her sweatshirt were striped with blood. But she was still alive. And she seemed to be getting stronger.
In desperation, he fell on her, thrusting the scalpel toward her throat.
She held the square of metal between her hands like a small shield. It deflected the scalpel blade so that it skated harmlessly off into space beside her head.
The force of his thrust caused him to overbalance and fall forward.
Kendra pushed her face forward and sank her teeth into his nose.
The doctor bellowed, and she bit down even harder.
He yanked the scalpel up and would have plunged it into the side of her head, but his jerky movement tore the end of his nose clean off.
She had bitten right through the fleshy tip.
The scalpel fell to the ground as the madman collapsed back onto his haunches, blood spraying over his lips and chin.
Kendra spat the tiny mess into the snow and lashed out with both feet.
This time, she caught him directly in the solar plexus.
With a roar of surprise, the off-balance murderer flung out his arms and tried to stand. Instead, he tumbled backward over the edge of the ravine. For a split second, he resembled the famous statue of Jesus looking out over the city of Rio de Janeiro.