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Alexandra Jones wasn’t sure how long she had been tortured, but she heard her captors talking about disposing of her, after the one named David had his turn.
The will to live was more powerful than the two monsters grueling torture. They both had a hunger for power and control. Each had a need to dominate her and she refused to allow that to happen. She would not show them fear. Her stomach turned from the heady smell of blood in the air. "Stop it!" she told herself. Those thoughts won’t help you out of this mess, now concentrate. She would outwit them; beat them at their own game, even if every bone in her body did shake in fear.
Alexandra prayed she could actually deceive them and make them believe she was dead. Then, maybe they would just dispose of her body and drive away. All those years of swimming lessons would pay off if this worked. Alex wanted to fake her death before the one named David had his turn. The aura that surrounded him reminded her of pure, incarnate evil. His eyes were empty.
She cringed when the man told his partner, “Hurry up; I’m ready to have a turn with her. Whatever you do, let me finish my fun, before you super glue her best parts closed.”
Alexandra didn’t know for certain what this guy was talking about, but she knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. She had to escape, somehow, someway. When Alexandra felt his hands around her neck, she went into action. She took a deep breath in and held it. She struggled to maintain her control or she would forget to hold her breath. Her heart pounded faster, the sound steadily grew louder in her ears. The jugular vein in her neck began to throb. Just a little longer, don’t give up. She imagined herself swimming. Her body screamed for air now, but she continued to hold her breath, refusing to give up.
“I’ll be damned. I can’t believe this bitch is already slipping into unconsciousness.”
David asked, “What? What do you mean? I haven’t had my turn yet. Slap her, damn it. Let up, you must be squeezing too tight. We can revive her.”
“I’m telling you this one is too weak. She is already gone.”
Alexandra was thankful, so far they hadn’t decided to “revive” her or check for a heartbeat. If they did, then she was doomed. Alex felt someone slapping her face and continued holding her breath. She ignored the pain. She reminded herself that this was her only chance. Please, please don’t let them try CPR. This has to work. I want to live damn it.
Dumbfounded, The Traveler stated, “Damn. I can’t believe this shit. Let’s get on the road and dispose of her on the way out of here. We can’t stay around here once a body is found anyway. I sure in the hell don’t want the smell of a dead body in here. It takes forever to get that smell out.”
“Of all the rotten luck. Stupid cunt.”
The Traveler didn’t even bother wrapping her up. He just discarded her at the camping spot.
Alexandra waited until she heard the vehicle drive away, before she started taking deep breaths. She would wait a while longer before she dared to move. Luckily, they cut her loose from the restraints before disposing of her. They just threw her out like a piece of trash. Alexandra had no idea where she was, but the area reminded her of a campground. Hopefully, there would be other campers around.
The morning sun slowly made its way through the woods and lifted the darkness of the night. Alexandra tried to avoid the road as much as possible, in case her captors were still around. Faint streaks of daylight broke through the heavy woods, creating eerie shadows that seemed to follow her. All around her, she heard the woodland creatures making noise. With each noise, she stopped to make sure it wasn’t her captors returning.
The early morning air had a chill to it. Alexandra’s breathing became faster with each step. Her eyes were wide open now with terror. The horrific ordeal she just survived remained vivid in her memory. Blood matted in her hair and clung to her face.
Alexandra refused to allow the weariness to stop her feet from moving. Was the nightmare truly behind her? She became terrified that her captors would return. She must find help. She desperately tried to put some distance behind her, venturing deeper into the woods. She didn’t want to be found by her captors, not knowing if they had left.
Up ahead, she noticed a building. Could it be an office of some type? Hope entered her mind. Could someone be there? Anyone? Building up her courage, she slowly left her cover of the surrounding woods.
She thought she remembered what their motor home looked like. If only she had gotten a look at the license plate, but she had been too afraid to open her eyes. Not seeing any motor homes nearby, she took a huge chance and walked up to the door. The smell of coffee hit her right away. Her prayers were answered; someone had to be in there brewing coffee. When she tried the doorknob, it turned easily. As soon as she entered the small building, she fell to the floor, exhausted. “Please help me, I’ve been abducted.”
A man rushed to her aid. She felt him gently pick her up, as he talked to her. She was too tired to answer.
Alexandra couldn’t stop the flashbacks of the torture she endured while in captivity. At first, her memory was sketchy, to say the least. Then the flashbacks came all at once. They were completely eerie and surreal, as if it was happening to someone else. This couldn’t have possibly been done to her. She kept seeing her attackers' faces everywhere. She swore they were watching her, waiting to finish the job. She was terrified to fall asleep, even though the nurses and police officers promised that she was safe.
***
ALEX HAMILTON COULDN’T believe it when the FBI called him. A victim had managed to escape. While being tortured, she pretended to be dead. Her captors threw her out of a motor home and took off. She was in rough shape, but alive and able to talk. The FBI wanted him to interview her, since he knew David Thorguson so well. The FBI believed David Thorguson was involved. Maybe after talking to her, he could get into their heads and help capture them before more bodies were found. Even if David Thorguson wasn’t involved with this recent abduction, Alex might learn something that would help the FBI locate the woman’s captors. Some of the witness’s details were fuzzy and maybe he could help clear them up.
Now he had to break the news to Jordan. She wouldn’t be too happy, especially since she was due in a few weeks.
“Go Alex. Don’t worry about me. Besides, everyone keeps saying your first child is always late. I want these two guys behind bars, if not dead. That way, we know they won’t escape again. Hurry up and catch them, so you can come back home.”
“I hate leaving you. I can go talk to the witness and come straight back, if you would rather.”
“Go, do what you need to do. Catch these two bastards; it’s what you do best. Well, one of the things you are good at.” Alex saw the twinkle in her eyes, as she made the last comment. He would miss her while he was away. He didn’t want to miss the birth of their child, and hoped to wrap this up as quickly as possible.
The FBI had a jet waiting on Alex, just in case he accepted their request. The witness had been brought straight to Quantico, where she was receiving personal medical attention and under heavy guard. The FBI wanted to keep the news of a witness quiet.
Once the plane was in the air, Alex reviewed the notes O’Riordan sent him on the witness. Most of his life had been spent traipsing across the country profiling madmen, working long hours, with no love life. No matter how many of these men Alex helped put away, it seemed like there was another to take his place. At one time, Alex had the ability to disengage himself from the situation, but over the years it became harder to remain unaffected by the horrifying cases he worked. Alex was ready to part ways with the FBI after this case and strike out on his own. He wanted to find out what else life had to offer.
When Alex arrived at Quantico, the gray skies made the day seem even bleaker. On the way to the hospital, Alex felt the rush of excitement when he had a new case to solve. Some of these cases were like puzzles and it required an exorbitant amount of concentration and resolve to solve them. Alexandra was the first woman who saw David Thorguson up close and personal at work and lived to tell about it. She was his first witness that had survived a brutal attack by any serial killer. He was keenly interested in what she had to say. This experience had altered her life forever.
When Alex entered the room, the sight of the witness startled him. She was younger than he expected. Her small body was covered in lacerations, both from the torture and rough terrain of the park. Thankfully, someone was working in the office the morning she escaped.
“Alexandra, my name is Alex Hamilton. I am a former agent helping the FBI find your captors. You’re a very brave, young woman. Can I get you anything before I sit down?” Alex tried to put the young woman at ease before he moved in closer. She had been through a very rough ordeal and he didn’t want to scare her.
***
EVERY TIME ALEXANDRA closed her eyes, she thought she was back in that motor home. She continued to relive the nightmare, even though she had escaped. Or did she escape? She couldn’t block the images of the rape, torture, and mutilation out of her mind. The smell of blood still lingered in her nose. Would she ever be a normal human again?
The FBI agent they sent in to talk to her didn’t look like any of the other agents. Wait, he did say he was a former agent. That would explain it. He seemed nice enough. Maybe if she told him what all happened to her, he wouldn’t judge her. She felt so ashamed.
Alexandra told Alex Hamilton, “The man named David never called the other man by any name. The only one that raped me was David. He had asked the other guy to hold off using the super glue, until he had a chance to have some more fun. I wasn’t sure what his plans were with the super glue, but I knew I didn’t want to find out. The rape and torture were bad enough.” Unfortunately, Alexandra did find out what the super glue was for. The doctors had informed her that she would need several surgeries to repair the damage, and they were not sure if she would ever feel right down there again. However, Alexandra did not want another man to touch her ever again. She had never felt so degraded before.
One of the nurses had suggested a hairstylist be brought in to fix the young girl’s hair. “A good haircut may help her mood. Every time she looks in the mirror, she is forced to see all that she had done to her.” Alexandra was surprised at the gesture. She hated to tell anyone she was afraid to be touched, but after a while, she did end up relaxing a bit. It was actually nice to be pampered again.
The hairdresser was taken aback when she arrived. She was not accustomed to being asked to cut someone’s hair in the hospital. She thought perhaps this was a cancer patient or someone that needed uplifting, but when the sedan picked her up and brought her to Quantico, she didn’t know what to think. Maybe this young girl looking at her was a soldier, but she was instructed not to ask questions. “Well, honey, I don’t know what the hell happened to you, but let’s see what we can do.”
Alexandra was so glad to see a female hairdresser. “I was in an accident.”
“That was a hell of an accident, then.”
Alexandra was impressed with the pixie cut; she looked even younger than she was. “Now don’t worry my dear, your hair will grow out faster than you think. Whoever did that to your hair should be shot.”
Alexandra couldn’t help but agree with her. Death was too good for those men. They needed to be put through hell as well
“Now, I think I have some fingernail polish. Why don’t we give you an impromptu manicure, while I am here?”
It amazed Alexandra at how a haircut and nail polish had managed to lift her spirits. She thanked Nurse Kelly. “You are so welcome. I’m glad to help you some. I like the haircut. I wish I could wear my hair short, but when it’s short, I look just like a boy.”
***
ALEX WAS POSITIVE THIS was the work of David Thorguson and the guy who helped him escape. They have a sketch artist coming in to try and get a sketch of the accomplice to post on the news. David Thorguson’s mug shot would be used with some variations, in case he had grown a beard or mustache. Sometimes the public had a hard time picturing the face with any type of facial hair. However, David was also a master of disguises. A BOLO had been put out on the motor home.
The manager had a detailed description of the motor home and license plate number, which turned out be to a stolen plate. The driver used a fake driver's license and there was no video surveillance in the office. They never had a problem before that warranted the expense.
The manager of the park was also working with a sketch artist. He only saw one of the men, though. He didn’t pick David’s photo out of a lineup, so they were hoping he got a good look at the accomplice.
Alex Hamilton needed to talk to O’Riordan. “Agent O’Riordan, I think we may have a break. Alexandra mentioned there was a man called David in the RV. She even managed to pick him out of a photo lineup, except she said that he had a light beard.”
If O’Riordan had pushed harder when he first had his suspicions of a potential serial killer, would any of this have happened? “Did she get a good look at the RV they were driving?”
“No. She was too afraid to open her eyes when they dumped her body. She has a vague recollection of it, but that is it.”
Agent O’Riordan wished he could get a handle on this case. These two were moving faster than he had expected. “I have a gut feeling that they are building up to something, but what? Where the hell are they going? How many more bodies will be disposed of on the way to their destination?”
Alex was missing Jordan something fierce. She had brought back the joy in his life and kept him from focusing on death. Just the thought of her and their unborn child made him smile. He couldn’t wait to get back home. He needed to hear her voice. “How are you doing? Is the baby doing okay?”
“We are doing great, ready for you to get back home.”
“It may be a while. The poor girl was abducted and tortured by David Thorguson and his accomplice. He’s as messed up as David, and now the torture is getting worse.”
“I have complete faith that you will catch them. I miss you and love you very much. Don’t worry about us. We aren’t going anywhere. I’ve had the deputies keeping an eye on David’s old camp, but there’s no sign of life over there. I didn’t expect him to come this way; he knew we would be on the lookout for them.”
“I worry that he will come after you, but David has no desire to go back to prison. The FBI has no idea how many men or women have been killed. Some bodies were disposed of like yesterday’s trash. There is no telling how many bodies are lying in ditches or woods, decomposing.”
“David’s package came in today. I had the task force come get it.”
“They called to say they got it.” This package was mild compared to the previous ones. David sent Jordan the poor girl’s chopped up hair and a couple of toe nails. The note was another simple note, “She was too weak.” If only David knew the irony in that statement.
Agent O’Riordan walked up to Alex as he was finishing his conversation with Jordan. “We are going to go check out the campground, if you’re interested.”
“Would it be possible to catch a ride with you? I still don’t have a rental car. I just jumped on the jet and headed over.”
“Let’s go. I’m sure we can get you a vehicle afterwards.”
“Great. Let’s go. Has the local police department checked for evidence?”
“No, they just closed down the campground. Everyone was informed to stay put until they were interviewed and cleared. Only a few people were at the campground. They are waiting on the FBI’s forensic techs to get there.”
“I doubt our perps are still there. We might get lucky and some trace evidence was left behind.”
“I’m hoping someone staying at the campground got a close look at the guy. The park manager is working with the sketch artist now. Maybe we can have a sketch sent out and have identification before we know it.”
When Agent O’Riordan and Alex made it to the campground, the forensic techs were finishing up. Agent O’Riordan surveyed the crime scene, trying to imagine it through the killers’ eyes. This was a quiet spot, little to no foot traffic. He tried to picture it at night, darkness would envelope you here.
Agent O'Riordan's mood had soured by the end of the day. This deadly duo was pissing him off. He wanted to go back to the hotel bar and knock back a few. David Thorguson and his accomplice seemed to stay one step ahead of them. Where the hell were they going next?
Laughter greeted him as he walked into the bar. He pulled up a stool and waited for the bartender. "What’ll it be?"
"Maker’s Mark and Sprite."
"Coming right up."
The first one went down smooth. By the time he had his second, Alex had joined him. "I'll have a Manhattan."
Both drank in silence. A deep frown formed across Alex's face. "I thought this case was over."
"Do you miss profiling?"
"Sometimes, but right now I'm enjoying my life just as it is. I have found a passion in writing and Jordan will be having our first baby soon."
"I'm getting tired of seeing death every day. It can wear you down after a while."
"I hear you."
The next morning, Agent O’Riordan found Alex Hamilton back at the hospital. “Let’s go grab a cup of coffee.”
In the cafeteria, the smell of hot coffee and bacon welcomed them. “How is she doing?”
Alex thought about it for a moment. “It will be a rough road for her physically and mentally. She was tortured badly, but at least she is alive. David and his partner did a number on her. Now, we need to figure out where they are going next.”
“If you are done here, would you be interested in talking to the detectives and other law enforcement personnel working the other cases. Maybe we can figure out where they are headed to or at least come up with a plan of attack.”
“Let’s go. There’s not much more I can do here.”
***
AGENT O’RIORDAN WAS furious when he picked up the morning paper. Dean Albright had somehow managed to find out about Alexandra. Who the hell leaked him the information?
A young woman is in critical condition at an unknown hospital after surviving a brutal attack. This young woman is believed to be a victim of a serial killer that has eluded the FBI for years. Sources say she was abducted and somehow managed to escape during the early morning hours. The young woman is working with an FBI sketch artist to help identify her captor(s). Inside sources have revealed the FBI suspects David Thorguson, an escaped convict from Hope, Louisiana, and his accomplice may have been her captors. The FBI, BAU, and ex-profiler Alex Hamilton, have been called in to help with the investigation. Alex Hamilton’s experience with serial killers was monumental in the capture of David Thorguson last year. Alex Hamilton has just published his true crime novel on David Thorguson. The book has been on the New York Times bestseller list since its release.
All women in the viewing area need to be extra careful until David Thorguson has been apprehended. Please don’t go out alone, keep your doors locked, and your cell phone charged.
Alex called O’Riordan as soon as he read the article in the paper. “I hate reporters. How the hell did he find out about her?”
“I wish I knew. Obviously we have a leak somewhere, but who was it? Unfortunately, there are more civilians involved in her escape than we could contain. If it was an FBI agent, there will be hell to pay. At least Dean Albright attached another photo of David Thorguson.”
With Dean Albright’s recent article and the sketch having gone out to the press, O’Riordan had warned everyone to be ready. There would be many false leads, but they needed to be checked out.
The case took a nosedive after Dean Albright’s article ran in the paper. The media went into a frenzy, demanding answers. The story was even picked up by the cable news, causing mass panic in most of the states that David Thorguson and his accomplice had left bodies in. The media made it a point to lay blame on all law enforcement agencies involved. It didn’t matter to any of them that the local law enforcement agencies and the FBI were all working hand in hand; blame was being passed around equally.