Ike Hamill - The Vivisectionist

He looped around through the woods to the west of the trail and made his way back to Jack’s house. He rejoined the trail right where he thought. Around the next bend, Jack waited for him, holding a plastic grocery bag.

“What the hell was that about?” asked Stephen.

“I had to get this,” said Jack, holding up the bag.

“What is it?”

“What do you think?” asked Jack.

He guessed that Jack had purchased a handgun. “I can’t believe you did that. That could have gone really badly,” said Stephen.

“I had the whole situation under control, and we won’t have to worry about those guys anymore,” said Jack.

“What are you going to do with it?” Stephen pointed at the bag.

“I think I may need it by the end of the week,” said Jack. “The kidnapper is going to come back and find that I’ve rescued the Vigue kid, and then he’s going to come looking for me.”

“Oh man, you’re nuts,” Stephen tried to reason with Jack as they walked down the path. “Just time-out on all this crazy talk for a minute. For one, if you think you know the kid is alive, and you think the kidnapper isn’t going to be back until the end of the week, then why not get the police involved right now. You’re smart, I’m sure you can think of some excuse to get the police to search that place.”

“Yeah, I thought that through,” said Jack. “But a couple of things to consider — he might have a way of knowing if the police go into the hotel and he could blow the place up, or escape. I want the kid alive, and I want the guy to go to jail. Getting the police involved now could risk both of those things.”

“No offense, Jack,” countered Stephen. “But we’re just kids. We don’t have any business screwing around with this stuff.”

“I think that’s the whole point,” said Jack, stopping and turning to Stephen. “He’s only letting us get in there because we’re kids. It’s his game to see if kids can rescue another kid. If we get adults involved he’s just going to kill the Vigue kid and move on. I read about these types of guys, they have a code that they stick to, like rules of a game. If you stick to those, they’ll give you a way to win.”

Stephen thought about that; he wanted to save the kid if they could — he wanted to be a hero and help outwit a killer, but knew he shouldn’t be involved and that it was wrong. Stephen considered Jack either overconfident or just wrong about the situation.

“I can’t be a part of this, Jack,” said Stephen. “I don’t think you should be either.”

“It’s okay,” said Jack. “I figured it would be too much for you, and I think I can do it alone anyway.”

“If you’re trying to psych me out, it’s not going to work,” warned Stephen.

That made Jack chuckle. Stephen noted that Jack’s mannerisms and laugh made him seem much older than just a few weeks before.

“I’m not trying to trick you,” said Jack. “But I am going to ask you to do one more thing with me, and then perhaps you should head back south a little early.”

Stephen was greatly relieved. He waited to hear the request.

“I’m going to show you evidence that our kidnapper is out of town for a few days, and I want you to help in the hotel one more time.”

Stephen ignored the request for a moment — fixated on the idea of being safe at home. “What excuse am I going to use to leave early? I’ve already got plane tickets for the thirty-first, and today is only the twenty-third. Those tickets are expensive to change.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jack. “We’ll think of something, I’m sure. But, will you help me?”

“I don’t know — what’s your evidence?” asked Stephen.

“I’ll tell you back at the house,” said Jack.

Back at the house they removed their shoes in the garage and snuck up the stairs to avoid Jack’s parents. As they passed down the hall to the safety of Jack’s room, Stephen noted that lying and sneaking around had become second nature to him.

Jack waved him into the seat in front of the computer.

“First,” said Jack, “look at this.” He leaned past Stephen and pressed a key, waking up the computer.

A CNN webpage appeared on the screen. Stephen scanned the article. It regarded a missing child in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The details of the case included a kid snatched from his pre-school; no witnesses. Then, the article discussed the similarities to the Gabe Vigue case. The police investigated a possible connection between the two. Stephen scrolled back up to the top of the article and saw what he was looking for — the article had been posted just four hours before.

“What if it’s not the same guy?” asked Stephen.

“I found this,” said Jack. He held out a piece of paper folded in quarters and quite wrinkled. Stephen unfolded it and saw the logo of United Airlines at the top of the page. Reading down, he saw that it was an itinerary showing a round-trip schedule from Manchester, New Hampshire, to Albuquerque. The name listed was Patrick Bateman.

“The name is fake,” said Jack. “It’s the name of a serial killer from a movie.”

“So, you’ve got another kidnapping and a plane ticket to the same place,” stated Stephen.

“Yeah — I think it’s pretty clear,” said Jack.

“What if he’s got a partner?” asked Stephen.

“I don’t think so,” said Jack. “These guys always work alone.”

“Okay, so he gets back,” Stephen scanned down the sheet, “on Friday then?”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “And I want to make sure I’ve got everything in place by Wednesday.”

“What do you need me to do?” asked Stephen.

“I need you to go back there one more time,” said Jack. “I need some help moving something heavy, and I want you to watch on the video while I try something.”

“That’s great, so you need help while you do stuff and things? Real clear there, Jack,” said Stephen.

“It’s no big deal, it’s just hard to describe,” said Jack. “Easier to show you.”

The boy stepped down the stairs and paused at a landing. He wished he could find a window or door, but the stairs continued down and he had spent enough time in the basement of this building to know that he didn’t want to ever go back there again.

Struck with indecision, he looked back up the stairs towards the room with the dead cat. Before the spikes had impaled it, the cat had been eating, so somebody must come to this part of the building. The man might be very close to him right now, and anyone close could have heard the awful noise the cat had made while dying.

He shook his head and tried to get that sound out of his head. Back in the chair, he had learned to control his panic. Now, he found himself fighting for control again. It wasn’t a battle you could win forever; panic would always come back stronger.

He sat down. He glanced back and forth — upstairs, then down. He pointed his flickering otoscope upstairs, then down. After about ten minutes of overload, he rallied. He remembered the feeling of being caught and he desperately didn’t want to experience that again. Back on his feet, he took a deep breath and headed down.

Five steps down, he discovered another landing and had to take a right. A couple more turns, through a door, and he found himself back on a cold, tile floor.

The boy took a few tentative steps down the hall. Up ahead he could see a thin strip of light on the floor along the right-hand wall. As he approached, the boy realized the light was coming from beneath a door. An electronic beep sounded above him. The red light of another camera turned on.