Chris Carter - The Crucifix Killer

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In a derelict cottage in Los Angeles National Forest, a young woman is found savagely murdered. Naked, strung from two wooden posts, the skin has been ripped from her face – while she was alive. On the nape of her neck is carved a strange double-cross: the signature of a psychopath known as the Crucifix Killer.
But that’s not possible. Because, two years ago, the Crucifix Killer was caught and executed.
Could this be the work of a copycat killer? Someone who has somehow accessed intricate details of the earlier murders – details that were never made public? Or is Homicide Detective Robert Hunter forced to face the unthinkable? Is the real Crucifix Killer still out there, ready to embark once again on a vicious killing spree, selecting his victims seemingly at random, taunting Hunter with his inability to catch him?
Robert Hunter and his rookie partner are about to enter a nightmare beyond imagining, where there's no such thing as a quick death.
To date The Crucifix Killer has been released in over fifteen countries.

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‘He doesn’t. If he did they’d be down here already,’ D-King said, throwing Hunter a defiant look.

‘Tie them up,’ D-King commanded again.

A couple of minutes later the three naked men sat tied to metal chairs in the center of the room.

‘Look, you’re not in the wrong yet,’ Hunter said, taking a step closer to D-King. ‘This still hasn’t gotten out of hand. Let me take them in. Let the law deal with them. They’ll rot in jail.’

‘If I were you I’d stand still,’ Warren said, lifting his gun and aiming at Hunter’s head.

‘If you were me you’d be good-looking,’ Hunter shot back. ‘D-King, I know you’re upset by what they did to Jenny, but we can solve this the right way.’

D-King let out a loud laugh. ‘Somehow “upset” doesn’t quite say it. And this is the right way. Let me bring it to you real, Detective Hunter. The law will allow them to walk and you know it. They’ll turn this thing around using some bullshit technicality as they always do. If you take them in, you’ve gotta take us in and that ain’t happening, baby. Sorry, Hunter, we’ve gotta deal with them our way.’

‘I can’t just stand here and watch you kill them.’

‘Close your eyes then. You’re not even supposed to be here. These people kidnap, rape, and kill women for profit.’

Hunter gave D-King a nervous laugh. ‘Coming from you that’s grand.’

‘Oh hell no. You ain’t comparing me to these fucks? I don’t force any of my girls to do the job they do. I also don’t force anyone to hire them. What these guys do, whatever way you look at it, is just fucking sick. Look at this place. How does this compare to what I do?’

Suddenly, catching everyone by surprise, the wall behind D-King swung open. A tall, shaven-headed man holding a Desert Eagle.50 pistol in each hand emerged, his eyes wide open, his pupils dilated, his nostrils inflamed. There was a murderous and deranged look on his face.

No one had any time to react. As gunshots showered the room Hunter sensed his opportunity and jumped to the floor searching for his pistol.

The onslaught of bullets had neither aim nor specific direction. One of the filming lights exploded with a deafening blast. The sudden change in light blinded everyone for a split second and on instinct D-King ducked down – bullets hitting the wall behind him, missing his head by a fraction. He heard Warren’s agonized cry as his colossal body crumpled to the floor, both of his hands covering his face, blood dripping through his fingers.

Jerome stood his ground like a fearless soldier ready to face death. He squeezed the trigger on his machinegun and the wave of bullets found its target with military precision. The intruder’s body shook violently with every blow and he tumbled back. The total impact was so powerful it almost separated his legs from his torso. His limp body fell to the floor. The entire gun-fight lasted less than ten seconds.

As the shots died down, their echoes were replaced by the terrified screams of the three helpless naked men. Miraculously they were still alive.

‘Shut the fuck up!’ Jerome blasted in a heated voice, turning his Uzi towards them.

‘Chill, nigga!’ D-King shouted, aiming his shotgun at the newly revealed door. ‘They’re no threat to us. Check him,’ he gestured towards the semi-mutilated intruder.

Warren was still on the floor, his hands and shirt covered in blood.

Hunter was also up on his feet with his gun in hand. ‘OK everyone, put your guns down.’

D-King’s aim moved from the door to Hunter as did Jerome’s. ‘This ain’t the time for this kind of crap, Detective, there could still be more people hiding in that room. I ain’t got no beef with you, not yet, but if I have to I will gun you down like a dirty dawg. Remember, you’re still outnumbered and outgunned.’

Hunter’s aim stayed on D-King. The trigger mechanism on Hunter’s Wildey Survivor pistol had been modified to lighter than normal. That, coupled with the knowledge that the average trigger resistance on a double-barreled shotgun is about half a pound heavier than most pistols, meant Hunter knew he could squeeze a shot out at least a second faster than D-King could. On the other hand, Jerome with his Uzi would pose a bigger problem. But they weren’t the enemy. Hunter wasn’t about to start another gunfight. And he sure wasn’t about to risk getting shot on behalf of the three naked scumbags in the room. He moved his aim away from D-King.

‘OK, let’s secure this place.’

‘Warren, talk to me, how’re you doing, buddy? Are you hit?’ D-King called out without diverting his attention from his primary target.

Like a wounded animal Warren emitted a loud growl indicating he was still alive.

‘This one is dead,’ Jerome announced, standing over the lifeless body by the new door.

D-King turned his attention back to the three tied-up men. ‘Anyone else where that motherfucker came from?’

No reply.

‘Anyone else in that room?’ he asked, pressing the barrels of his shotgun against the tattooed man’s head.

‘No.’ The answer finally came from the shortest of the three.

D-King nodded at Jerome who slotted a new clip onto his Uzi and very cautiously stepped into the new room. ‘We’re clear here,’ he called out after a few seconds.

‘I’ve gotta check on Warren. Jerome, keep your gun on Hunter.’

Jerome turned and aimed the Uzi at Hunter who returned the favor.

D-King placed his shotgun on the floor and rushed to Warren’s side.

‘OK, let me take a look. Move your hands.’

Warily Warren removed his bloody hands from his face. D-King wiped some of the blood away with his shirt in an attempt to get a better look. He saw two large cuts – one on Warren’s forehead and the other on his left cheek.

‘No bullets,’ D-King said after a quick examination. ‘You weren’t hit by bullets. It looks like shrapnel from the walls. You’ll live.’ He took off his shirt and placed it in Warren’s hands. ‘Here, just keep pressure over the wounds.’

‘Boss, you gotta come and have a look at this.’

Something in Jerome’s voice worried D-King.

‘What is it?’

‘You have to see it for yourself.’

Sixty-Four

D-King picked up his shotgun and approached Jerome by the open door. He stood rigid. His eyes carefully scanning the new room. ‘What the fuck?’ he whispered,. ‘Hunter, come and have a look at this.’

Hunter cautiously joined them.

The new room was in much better shape than the one they were in. The ceiling had been painted blue and decorated with what looked like a million fluorescent stars. The walls were even more colorful, displaying a tremendous variety of drawings – dragons, wizards, horses, leprechauns… On the far wall a series of wooden shelves held an impressive collection of toys – dolls, cars, action figures with even more toys scattered all over the floor. A large rocking horse sat to the left of the door. Against the west wall a video camera had been placed on a tripod.

Hunter felt his chest knot around his heart. His eyes left the room and rested on D-King’s baffled face.

‘Kids,’ Hunter whispered. The anger in his voice as clear as a loud shout.

D-King’s eyes seemed glued to the room’s decoration. It took him another thirty seconds to face Hunter. ‘Kids?’ D-King’s voice trailed off. ‘Kids?’ This time a powerful cry as he stormed back into the first room. The sadness inside him had been replaced by pure rage.

‘This is fucked up, man,’ Jerome said, shaking his head.

‘You do this to kids? What kind of sick fucks are you?’ D-King demanded standing before the three bound men. His bravado met with silence, his eyes met by no one.

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