A story based in the real world. For some reason, a high school boy named J.J. went to sleep and didn't wake up for nearly 3 years. Someone else was awake in his place ...
Sacrificial Alter
Chapter 11 of 13
by **Sigh**
Copyright© 2017 plaintivesigh All Rights Reserved. |
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Detective Castro walked back out to his car and got in quickly, not even bothering to close the door in the thick Florida heat. He kept an eye on the roads he could see around him as he picked up his car radio unit.
“This is Detective Ray Castro. I need an APB for Bob Evarist. Large overweight man driving a silver Buick Legac-“
Suddenly Castro was fighting for his breath, his very life. His vision was covered by something thick and sopping wet being pressed hard into his lips and nostrils. Noxious smelling liquid streamed into his nose, mouth and lungs. He dropped the radio and grabbed towards his face; his fingers felt the outline of a huge, gloved hand holding a wet cloth there. Castro grabbed the attacking limb by the wrist and attempted to pull it away, and he tried to squirm – but he quickly felt his strength dissolving, followed by his consciousness. He now was no longer awake enough to feel the finality of death overtake him.
Castro’s final earthly thought was Chan - Help!
He had no way of knowing that the Lieutenant stationed at the back door was dead. Chan had gotten the same treatment as Castro, one minute earlier.
Dr. Rama was inside on his cell phone relaying information on Bob Evarist to another detective at the police station when he saw Becky re-enter the living room where he and J.J. were.
She had a huge shotgun with her.
“Becky – I’m not comfortable with you bringing that in here.”
“To hell with your comfort, doctor. I’m protecting my child.”
“Becky, the police are outside. They will give us all the protection we need. See? I’m pulling back the blinds; there’s Detective Castro – “
Castro was indeed there. Sitting in his car, door closed, and head leaned back as if asleep. The physician noted a darkening blue tint on the lawman’s face as the sun reflected off of it; he also noted the total absence of any movement. Was he even breathing?
“Ma’am, keep J.J. here. I’m going to … talk to the detective. I’ll be right back.” Rama didn’t want to unduly upset Becky further, not with a firearm in her grasp. He exited the front door and quickly began to approach the cruiser, carefully scanning all of his surroundings.
All of his surroundings except directly behind him. That’s where the big arm came from, grasping his neck and choking him furiously and silently until he passed out.
Finny fretted as he drove up towards the Evarist house and saw the police cruiser in front.
So much for getting my transmitter back today. Too much heat. Wait. What in the hell?
The officer in the cruiser looked to be asleep. Then Finny saw through one of the hedge lines to see the outline of someone lying on their back ‘spread eagle’ and motionless on the lawn. He scanned the rest of the grounds but saw no one else; the outside front doorway was excluded from his vision by a huge citrus tree in the yard.
Finny quickly opened up his laptop and engaged his transmitter; he got a quality sound and video signal from inside the main hallway of the house. He turned the volume on high and hit the RECORD function.
Becky had just checked the shotgun; it was full with shells, so she pulled up on the barrel until it clicked in place. She reviewed in her head: Loaded. Safety off. When ready, pull back on this part to ‘cock’ it. Aim and shoot.
“Mom? What’s going on?” said a girl’s voice to her side.
“J.J.! Is that you?”
He smiled. “Who else would it be?”
“Kitty was present just a few minutes ago.”
“REALLY? I just changed to her? I don’t remember it at all. I hate that. What’s the gun for? And – have you been crying?”
“Yes, I have. And the gun is for our protection. Honey, this is too convoluted to explain right now, and I don’t know that we have time for me to go into it because I’m so confused. I just know I want you safe, and you need to trust me, OK?”
“Okay,” said J.J. with a worried look.
Suddenly, Becky heard the unmistakable rumble of a large diesel engine outside of their door. She looked out the window – there was a big gray truck cab, without a trailer attached. DTT was printed on the side – Becky recognized that as short for “Dustin’s Tampa Trucking”.
“He’s here,” she mumbled to herself.
“Who’s here, Mom?” J.J. asked, walking up behind her.
Becky looked back at J.J. foggily. “I didn’t tell you?”
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Becky opened it to see her older son, Dustin. He was rippled with muscles and tanned; clean shaven, and with a close-cropped buzz cut on his scalp. He wore a sleeveless tee that was stained with sweat.
“I’m here. And it looks like Dad is too.” Dustin said with alarm.
“B-Bob’s here?” Becky gasped.
“I haven’t seen him, but I see his work in the police cruiser and the dude on the lawn.” Dustin could see from Becky’s bewilderment that she knew nothing about what he’d just mentioned. “Look – I’ll explain later. Let’s get inside and set up a safe room; I’ll stand guard.”
Becky looked over at J.J. “Jacob, look who it is! Your brother, Dust-“ she stopped in mid-sentence.
Kitty was back. She sat on the floor, knees pulled up under her chin, and arms wrapped around her legs. “NNNnnnNNNnnnNNNnnnNNNnnn…”
“What the hell – who is this girl?” gaped Dustin.
“This girl is your brother. She was changed into a female by kidnappers. And as a result of all her trauma, she now has multiple personalities. This is one of them; her name is Kitty, and she appears to be a young child.”
“What the – is this for real or are we in the twilight zone? J.J. is a transsexual freak?”
“Careful how you speak around your brother – or, sister right now,” admonished Becky. “Kitty has been essential in understanding what’s gone on. She’s the only personality who remembers who really killed Missy Renquist; the same person who raped J.J.’s body.”
Dustin turned pale. “Dad, right?”
Becky began to cry once more. “Yes. Bob. You were right. I’m married to a monster.”
Dustin’s face glared with urgency. “Speaking of that monster – there’s two dead guys out front. Dad’s here, somewhere. We need to get y’all out of this hallway NOW, to an interior room, where I can hold him off with your gun.”
Becky was near total meltdown. “Dustin! Can we make a run for your truck? I’m not staying here one more second in this horrible place! Take J.J. and me in somewhere safe, and I’ll get the law involved after we’re there. Will you stay with us and protect us for right now?”
“Ah,” Dustin thought – “OK. Yeah. Let me look out the front door to make sure the coast is – ”
“NNN! NNN-NNN-NNN!” Kitty’s humming got violently loud suddenly.
Becky put her arm around Kitty. “Baby, I need you to stand up. We need to-“
Kitty suddenly straightened and extended her whole right arm, and reached over to the poster board with the pictures on it. Becky had it with her to take it to the police for evidence. Kitty now pointed her finger to the same big picture of Bob standing in the yard from five years ago.
Becky sighed. “Yes honey, that’s the bad man. Your Da-“ … she stopped talking as her blood froze in her veins.
Kitty’s finger was now actually touching that picture, but not on Bob’s form. Instead, it rested on a partially obscured person sitting on the porch behind Bob.
Dustin.
Becky looked up at her oldest. She couldn’t fully mobilize all of her faculties in the midst of the sudden new shock and horror flooding her brain. “D … Dustin??”
The older brother wore a new look of disgust and inconvenience. “Well, shit,” he remarked as he brought his fist down on his mother’s face in rapid multiple punches.
To be continued tomorrow.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to an actual person or situation is purely coincidental.
Thanks to cyclist, whose advise and editorial skills have elevated this tale to 100x better than it was when I submitted it to her. She is one of the shining stars of our community!
Thanks to JenaJumbled for the awesome picture.
If you've gotten this far, leave a comment! Don't make me reach through the screen and tweak your nose!
Thanks for reading! **Sigh**
Comments
One of Two Possibilities
However, it could be two of two. Interesting story.
Portia
Wouldn't that make it 3 possibilities?
One of two, the other of two, and both of two? So we should say it one of three, two of three, and both of three. Wait. Brain hurt. Me stop.
Love you, Portia! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Combinations and Permutations
You are correct; however, throw in another one and it really gets complicated.
Portia
Uh - uh.
Not gonna go there. Way too complicated. Like logarithms.
(Actually logarithms aren't complicated, beating out a rhythm on a log, that's simple right?)
HugZ! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
See! I Said I'd Wait
Even now, I'm waiting!
You know what they say
Good things come to those that wait!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
OMG< This cliff hanger is too
OMG< This cliff hanger is too much !
Great story !
Karen
Hey, that would make a great entry
For "Transname, Tennessee" (a silly little writing I have on the site)
As in: Writer of suspense novels......................Cliff Hangar."
THANK YOU for the compliment, Karen!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
It's not a Cliff Hangar
... unless you can put an airplane in it.
Portia
O I think I C wot U did dere
I was your spelling nazi yesterday, so you'll be mine today! Well, I MEANT to misspell "hanger" as "hangar", because ...
Gimme a minit ...
Nevermind. Touche', you. :)
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
yep, saw that coming
Dad made no sense as the perp, why would he actively give those two goons ammo against himself, also why would he put that much effort into finding JJ again
consider this
What if the dad, unknown to him or anyone else, had DID and a murderous alter that came out rarely? One reader proposed that. I personally would find it harder to make that as believable. Good work, Sherlock! :)
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
I knew it!
Scumbag brother!
Hopefully Finny can help out!
D
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
Lots of action
Next chapter.
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
oh crap
So it was her brother.
Can anybody save her?
might have to save herself!
Check back in 24!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
poor Rama :(
poor Rama :(
THANK you!
Someone finally pitied the long-suffering doctor in this tale!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Aww
Fu*k. An abundance of shit-brained creeps. Hopefully, bounty hunter to the rescue.
Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee
Rama
isn't shit-brained. He's just a doctor, not a policeman (dammit, Jim! - for all you trekkies out there). The dead officers just got expertly ambushed. But I agree, SOMEBODY needs to step up to the plate and get on base; so far everyone's striking out.
Thanks for commenting, Renee!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
What about...
What about the biker that is following Finney?
He wasn't mentioned this chapter.
THIS chapter. Read on tomorrow!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Dustin
has to be one miserable sick twisted piece of excrement. He murders Missy, police, and possibly Doc., rapes and enslaves his brother, beats on his mother, and wants to murder them too. And dad has an APB on him. J.J. needs Nova, she's tough but she probably doesn't know about Dustin unless she saw him beat on her mother, or possibly she can integrate with Kitty. Oh the horror, as Doctor Smith would say.
I agree, how could one person be that evil?
That will be specifically explained next chapter!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
How could one person be that evil?
Was that a hint?
Nope.
That's all. Just nope.
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Very convoluted all around.
Very convoluted all around. Back about two chapters ago, I was starting to think, for some reason, that Dustin was the guilty party.
Just something that was clicking in my head. I'm hoping that other police will arrive before Bob does, and is able to stop Dustin and his heinous actions; before he is able to kill his own mother and "new sister" J. J.
good
Good intuition!
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Hmmm?
Weren't the two in the car killed before the truck drove up?
Portia
Yes. My problem
- was how to explain that away in this chapter without ruining the climax, or even how to insert the explanation later without dragging the conclusion out even more.
Justin, from the phone call with his mom, knew the police would be there. He didn't want to drive up in the truck, which the cops would have noted, then get out and try to fight them. He parked three blocks away, around a curve; he then jogged the back alleyways to the house, carrying the materials he needed to silently do in the officers; then took care of the police (and Rama, too - he serendipitously encountered Rama when the doc left the house). Then he jogged back to his truck, and drove up, producing an alibi that he hadn't shown up before the officers were killed.
See? It's an unwieldy explanation. Sooo I left it out, knowing though that the sharpest of my readers would pick up on it. And you did! :)
Hugz! - **Sigh**
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
-Thomas Shadwell
Tap Dance
Chicago
Portia