James Swain - The Night Monster

A Colonial-style house came into view. The paint was peeling and three cars were parked in the front yard. On the front porch sat a woman in a rocker. She was missing her right foot. She looked up from her knitting, and waved to us.

“Wave back,” Seppi said.

“Why?” Linderman asked.

“That’s Travis Bledsoe’s wife, Delia,” Seppi explained.

We lowered our windows, and waved to the widow Bledsoe. Wood, who trailed us in his Audi, did the same, as did the drivers of both SWAT team vans.

“How much farther to the dairy farm?” Linderman asked.

“A couple of miles. It’s the only place around here. You can’t miss it.”

Linderman still had his body armor on, and was cradling a shotgun in his lap. There was no hiding his apprehension. He was ready for his nightmare to be over.

– – The most evil of places looked banal, almost dull. They were never dungeons equipped with torture equipment, or attics where the dead hung from the rafters, but were usually houses or farms that could be found in every community.

Mouse and Lonnie’s dairy farm was such a place. It had several overgrown pastures, a red barn with a weather vane on its roof, and a two-story shingle house with lead-glass windows and hurricane shutters. Had there not been a tall fence with razor wire surrounding the property, it might have passed as a B amp;B.

“That’s it,” Seppi said.

“Anyone home?” I asked.

“That’s their Jeep. It’s parked by the house.”

I slowed down. Mouse and Lonnie’s Jeep Cherokee was parked next to the side door of the house. The backseat was filled with groceries. It made me think that they’d just gotten home, and gone shopping.

I lowered my window and stuck my arm out. I pointed at the farm so that Wood and the drivers of the SWAT team vans would know that we’d arrived.

In my mirror, I saw Wood gesture. Wood wanted me to pull over. I obliged him, and let Wood and the vans pass me.

The vans drove up to the gate in front of the house. The gate had a metal chain and a padlock keeping it closed. Two SWAT team members jumped out of the van. One had a pair of bolt cutters, which he used to cut the chain.

The sound of a clanging bell made me jump in my seat.

“What the hell was that?” Linderman asked.

“There’s a bell on top of the house,” Seppi said. “Mouse used to ring it when there was trouble.”

“They’re on to us,” Linderman said.

The bell stopped ringing. Then a shot rang out. The man with the cutters clutched his arm, and dropped to the ground. I grabbed Seppi and pulled her head down.

“You said all Mouse had was a pistol,” Linderman said to her.

“He’s a good shot,” Seppi replied.

The other members of the SWAT team slipped out of the van, and took up positions behind him. They began to fire back. Wood and his assistant got out of the Audi with their weapons drawn. I heard Wood telling the SWAT team to be selective with their shots because there was a hostage inside the house.

The firing coming from the house suddenly stopped.

“Both of you stay here,” Linderman said.

Linderman got out of my Legend, and took up a position with the SWAT team. The firing from the house resumed, with bullets now hitting the SWAT team vehicle. I was a sitting target. I threw my car into reverse, and floored it.

I kept driving in reverse until I was out of range. Then I sat very still, and clutched the wheel. Seppi was still crouched down, and lifted her head.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“They’re shooting at each other. Stay down.”

Seppi lowered her head. I continued to grip the wheel. I found myself wondering why Mouse had rung the bell when we’d pulled up. The bell in a farmhouse was used to call to people working outside. Had Mouse rung the bell to alert Lonnie?

“Didn’t you tell me the farm backed up onto a national forest?” I asked.

“Yes. There are several thousand acres,” Seppi said.

“Did Mouse or Lonnie ever go back there?”

“Lonnie did.”

“A lot?”

“Yes. It was his favorite place.”

I threw my car into drive and floored the accelerator.

“Show me where the forest is,” I said.

Peppi pointed and I drove. My wheels tore up the grass as I left the road and drove around the farm. Seppi pointed to the gate at the back of the property. It was open, and swinging with the wind.

“There,” Seppi said.

I pulled up alongside the gate, and threw my Legend into park. From the glove compartment I grabbed the box of bullets that I took with me wherever I went, and reloaded my Colt.

“Show me where the path into the forest starts,” I said.

Seppi led across a short field to the path. It was recently trampled, with two sets of footprints clearly visible in the dirt. Buster sniffed the path and started to whine.

“I left the keys in the ignition,” I said. “Go back to the farm, and tell Special Agent Linderman what we found.”

“I want to stay here, and help you,” Seppi said.

I grabbed her by the shoulders. Seppi had shown a lot of courage, but sometimes bravery got people killed. I said, “Do as I say. It’s for the best.”

“Please don’t let Lonnie get away.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

She left, and I ran down the path with Buster. The forest was dark and foreboding, the air cooler than out in the sunlight. Lonnie had a big head start, but he also had Sara with him, and hopefully that had slowed him down enough for me to catch up.

“Find the girl,” I told Buster.

He sprinted ahead. Soon I couldn’t see him. My breathing grew labored, and my legs felt like lead. I thought back to the night I’d gone to the Sunny Isle apartments, and confronted Lonnie as he’d come out the door carrying Naomi Dunn over his shoulder. Had I stopped him then, none of this would have happened. But now God was giving me a chance to redeem myself. I told myself not to blow it.

A scream pierced the air. It was the voice of a man, but childlike. The scream was followed by a harsh tearing sound. My dog had found Lonnie.

I went off path and tore through the woods. I heard Buster’s frantic bark, and followed it into a clearing. It was the most beautiful of places, with golden sunlight filtering through the trees and blooming sunflowers everywhere I looked. A barefoot Sara Long stood in the center of the clearing, wearing a white nightgown and a band of flowers in her hair. A rope was tied around her waist that Lonnie was holding on to.

“Bad dog! Go away!” Lonnie said.

Buster had taken a bite out of Lonnie’s pant leg, and was circling his prey. Lonnie was trying to swat him away with a tree limb while continuing to hold the rope. Lonnie was shirtless, his muscles so huge they didn’t look real. He was so preoccupied fighting off my dog that he didn’t see me approach.

“Sara,” I whispered.

Sara jerked her head and let out a gasp.

“Oh, my God,” she said.

“Duck,” I said.

Lonnie suddenly realized I was there. He roped Sara in, and used her body as a shield. He tossed the tree limb at Buster, knocking him to the ground.

“Go away!” Lonnie demanded.

I moved sideways to get a clean shot. Lonnie moved sideways as well, keeping Sara between himself and me.

“Let her go,” I said.

Lonnie laughed wickedly. He grabbed Sara from behind by the neck, and lifted her clean off the ground. Sara struggled helplessly, her legs flailing in all directions.

“I’ll kill her!” Lonnie shouted.

I instinctively started backing up.

“Don’t leave,” Sara begged me.

I glanced at Buster. My dog was dazed from getting hit with the branch, and slow to get up. I wanted him to make another run at Lonnie, and distract him. Lonnie had enough intellect to understand what I was thinking, and he shook Sara like a rag doll.