Killing Season: A Thriller

“No word.”

Ben couldn’t think of anything else to say. He beckoned her in with a crook of the finger and she came over. She looked him up and down, covered with gauze, his face and arms splotched with blood. Her own shirt was bloody red, evidence of her heroism. Her hair was matted, her face was drained of color. If there was such a thing as a zombie, she was it.

Ben licked his lips. “You did good.”

Water fell from her eyes and rushed down her cheeks. Her voice was a whisper. “It’s all my fault.” A pause. “You must hate me.”

Ben smiled. “I will admit . . . that I’ve been thinking a lot. And . . . I will admit . . . that I went down that road. That if it hadn’t been for that stupid rehearsal, this wouldn’t have happened. And if you hadn’t insisted that I go, this wouldn’t have happened. But then . . . honestly, probably something else would have happened. Because he wasn’t going to stop. So . . .” It was getting hard to breathe. “We could do the blame game. Or . . . we can put the blame where it belongs . . . on a psychopathic serial killer . . . and save ourselves a lot of misery. So let’s hate the monster and not each other.”

She wiped her tears. “That’s kind of you to say.”

“Ro, we’re all sick about Lilly. That’s what we’re all thinking about. But it’s still better than thinking about a burial. And that’s because of you.”

Millstein came back in and regarded Ro, who immediately burst into tears. The doctor waited a few moments until she had regained some control. Then he said, “He’ll be out in a little bit. It would be better if you waited outside.”

She kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Sure.”

Millstein cleared his throat and she left. He finished up about a half hour later, giving Ben an armful of medication along with several prescriptions. Ben put on his new and blood-free clothes—jeans and a T-shirt—but his sneakers were still blood-spattered. Pain was seeping in where before it had just felt numb.

Numbness wears off quickly.

Pain lasts a long, long time.





Chapter 16




Dozens of pairs of eyes were upon him. Ben figured that there must have been around forty people, although who they were barely registered. But they included people from the pueblo—some of them outside doing a healing chant. His mother relieved him of the bag of medication along with a bag of bloodstained clothes. “Sit down, Ben.”

“I’m okay.”

She was pulling vials out of the bag. “Sit down!”

“I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. He hurt, but he didn’t want any pain medication. Nothing to dull him. His eyes scanned the faces around him and his eyes eventually landed on Haley. She saw him and looked away. To his mom he said, “One moment.”

Limping over to his baby sister—each step agonizing—Ben put his arm around her, taking her to a private corner. “Don’t talk, okay?” His breathing was labored. “It’s hard for me to talk, so you’ve got to listen. It’s no one’s fault except his.” She kept shaking her head no, her eyes pouring out tears. “Haley, blaming ourselves is a waste of time. We’ve got to keep it all together, okay? Whatever happens, we can’t let him fuck us up any more. If he does that, he really wins. And everything that happened today will be for nothing. So let’s just . . . hold it together until we get some news about Lilly, okay?”

Haley bit her lip and wiped her eyes. “Okay.”

Her voice was a mouse squeak. Ben kissed her head, and when she started to hug him, he gasped in pain. “Oh my God. Sorry.”

“I’m fine. Just . . .” He pointed to his cheek. “You can kiss me here.”

She did and they both walked back to the group. Ben looked around for an empty seat and the whole waiting room stood up. But then he saw George and June and Lilly’s two half brothers in a corner by themselves. June was facing the wall, rocking back and forth. Lilly’s half brothers were talking to George. His eyes were downcast, but when he looked up, he noticed Ben. He made the first move. They met in the middle of the room. George’s broad face was drawn and colorless. His dark eyes were piercing as they regarded Ben’s face.

“No one is telling us a fucking thing . . . just that she was attacked and she’s now in surgery. What the hell is going on?” When Ben tried to talk, the words jammed in his throat. George said, “Are you going to man up or stonewall like everyone else? I know it’s bad.” Tears ran down his cheeks. “Just tell me something!”

Ben pointed to his throat. “He cut her.”

George’s voice grew faint. “Her cut her throat? Dear God! How bad?”

Ben tried to think of something positive. “Like I said . . . she never lost consciousness. She was staring at me on the ride over. And she knew it was me.” Ben’s voice cracked. “She held my hand. They got her here, George. That’s the main thing.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

Ben ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “No.”

“Could she talk?”

“I . . . don’t know.” He looked down. “There’s a neck specialist flying in from Dallas. You’ll need to sign some stuff so he can operate.”

“I know. They told me that.”

“He’s a vocal-cord specialist. She was hurt in that area, so they called him down.”

He stared at Ben. “What else did the monster do?” When the boy didn’t answer, he said, “Was she—”

“Yes.” Ben looked away and George swore under his breath. “How’d he even get to her? I thought she was studying at your house. I was going to pick her up from there.”

“They walked over to the library. I think he was stalking them—”

“He got her in the library?”

Ben nodded.

“The public library?”

“There was an emergency exit near the women’s bathroom. Most of the time they don’t bother to lock it. I think he waited until one of them went to the bathroom.”

“He was waiting until Lilly went to the bathroom?”

“I think if it had been Haley, he would have taken her instead.” Ben looked down. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

“Yeah, you damn well should have killed him. Why the hell didn’t you?” When Ben was silent, George said, “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m not in my right mind now.” His eyes went to Ben’s red-stained arms. He lifted the hem of Ben’s shirt and looked at his bandaged body. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you fight him off?”

“I don’t remember what I did, except I stuck a gun in his mouth. Other than that, it’s all one big nightmarish blur.”

“How’d you find out where he took her?”

“Ro managed to track him using her hotel connections. We got there ahead of the police. We called in the police.”

“And you’re sure it’s Kevin Barnes?”

“Yeah . . . it’s him.”

“I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking put a gun to his head and shoot his brains out.” He paused. “I should have taken you more seriously—confronted the bastard.” He shook his head. “This is my fault.”

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