J. Gonzalez - Survivor

The weather forecast for tomorrow afternoon was calling for a storm.

'Iim Murray grinned. Today's late-afternoon drive had been a scouting expedition. When he had gotten the call early this morning to get his ass to Las Vegas and prepare for filming, he knew he had to do some fast thinking. Rick Shectman had warned him that if he blew this one that he would end up worse than Al. Tim believed himhell, he'd seen what Animal had done to Al, and knew the sadist wouldn't care about doing the same to himbut he wasn't afraid. He was confident in his abilities; he knew that the desert outside of Las Vegas was the perfect stage for a snuff film, and it was just a matter of doing some exploring to find the right remote spot. The weather report only boosted his confidence. Not only was rain expected, but wind as well. It could very well turn into a sandstorm. What better way to fuck up DNA evidence and scatter a body?

Tim laughed. He looked back down at the boulders, where he decided they should film tomorrow. He had found this spot twelve miles away from a secondary road; the dirt trail had led northeast, and there had been no signs of civilization. When Tim had seen the small rise he had pulled over and begun the hike, telling himself he would only go out for a mile or so. A quarter of a mile in, he had come upon the little canyon. Away from prying eyes. Tomorrow they wouldn't have to hike this far back-they could bring her here in the SUV The storm would erase tire tracks, too. Ha

Tim Murray clambered down the rocks, heading back down to the desert floor. He didn't think Rick suspected that he was planning on leaving the business. Tim had made the decision last night after his meeting with the producer and hearing his indifference to the fact that he'd produced a film in which Animal had murdered an infant and was thinking of using the sadist to indulge in similar atrocities for the pedophile underworld he'd sold the film to. Tim knew from experience it would only get worse. 1 wenty years ago, producing a snuff film was something he thought he'd never be involved in. Sure, he'd heard the rumors before. When you worked in underground pornography you heard the stories, but you never saw the actual product. Then, fifteen years ago, he'd actually seen his first one, at a private party. It had been old, an 8 MM reel shot in Mexico. Not too long after that, the party's host had asked Rick Shectman if he could make him one, and Rick had agreed and asked Tim for his assistance. And being that Tim knew so many people nobody would care about if they went missing, and because the money dangled in front of him was too good to pass up, he'd said yes.

But f never agreed to kill innocent babies, he thought as he trudged through the desert, the warm wind blowing at his back. Junkie fuckups that cause nothing but trouble to society are one thing… babies are another. That was something people like Rick Shectman didn't understand. And that was why Tim Murray wanted no part of it. Maybe I'm getting too old for this shit, he thought. Fuck, twenty years ago you couldn't find anal scenes in mainstream porn, and now it's a mainstay. Nowadays people are paying to watch videos of chicks throwing up. People are getting more bizarre in their fetishes. And the underground is getting more hardcore. That first snuff film he'd seen had merely shown a woman being raped and strangled by two men on camera, their faces hidden by masks. Violent, yes, but not perversely so. Now Rick wasn't satisfied with a snuff film unless Animal sadistically tortured the person. Now the bar was being raised even higher by using chicks that looked like models, by using babies and children, and the fact that Rick was entertaining the thought of having Animal do a necrophilia or cannibalism film. Tim wanted no part of it. After this job was over, he was finished.

The rays of the dying sun beat upon the back of Tim's neck. As he reached the desert floor, he heard the light churr of rattlesnakes rattling their tails, agitated that he was nearby. Tim stepped carefully down the path he had taken, being careful not to step near rocks or plants or gopher holes. They wouldn't have to worry about wildlife tomorrow afternoon in the heat of the day. It would just be the three of them: he, Animal, and Lisa.

He still didn't know how they were going to get Lisa out here. Rick had told him he was working on that now, but to stay by the phone in his room; there was a good possibility his services might still be needed in assisting in the actual abduction. All Rick had asked of him in his original phone call was to make sure Animal was in Las Vegas by tomorrow morning. 'Choose a location, then have Jeff picked up at the airport tomorrow morning at eight. When you've picked out the location, call me. Make sure you and Animal are ready.' Tim had assured Rick that he wouldn't let him down.

Tim was glad he wouldn't have to worry too much about abducting the bitch this time. Rick didn't elaborate, but Tim guessed he was relying on his contacts on the East Coast to fly somebody in to assist in the actual abduction. How they were going to do it Mm didn't know, but it was out of his hands. He had one job, and one job only. Running the camera.

And by tomorrow evening at this time they would have it. On film.

And if the weather held up, everything elseincluding what was left of Lisa Miller after Animal was finished with her-would be washed away. By the following day, Tim would have his money, including his share of the bonus Rick had gotten out of the pedophilia group in the Pacific Northwest who had paid for the footage of the baby, and then he would begin thinking about his next plan.

First item on the agenda: Completely disappear. Change his identity.

Then, when he felt safe and set up in a location nobody in the business would even think of looking for him, start thinking of a way to snare Rick Shectman and Animal under the cross-hairs of the federal authorities.

He could do it. He was pretty confident that if the cops could get to Rick, surprise him somehow, they would have all the evidence they needed in Shectman's records. They could find the clients who had bought the baby snuff film, and sweeping arrests would be made. Tim would make a deal-he'd spill the beans on the whole operation in exchange for total immunity from prosecution and witness protection.

But he'd only do it if he was one hundred percent confident he could get such a deal. He'd do some sniffing around first under his new identity. If it appeared that he couldn't make such a deal, he'd find another way to expose the group. Make an anonymous call or something. Maybe in the next day or so, if he was able to, he would get close enough to Rick Shectman's office to get the information he needed. He knew that was next to impossible-Shectman was extremely secretive about his clients, and rumor was he had the backing of the Russian mafia to protect him-but it was worth a try. He had to do something to stop the memories of the screaming going on in his head.

The wailing screams of pain that sounded so much like the wails of an infant…

… or a rabbit…

Tim Murray took a deep breath. He felt a little better about himself now that he had made up his mind to expose the group. He thought about this as he walked back to the SUV Tomorrow was going to be a good day; he was going to go through the job, do it good to win back Rick Shectman's confidence in him, and then he was going to return to Los Angeles to get ready for the next step. He was looking forward to it.

Morning.

Brad sat on a chair at the desk, his back to the curtained window. Lisa was asleep, a snuggled form beneath the thick blankets. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, ever vigilant in monitoring her behavior and health. Every time her breath hitched just a little Brad would jump, wondering if she was in the throes of another nightmare. She had screamed herself awake three times last night, clawing at the air, scrambling to run away as if someone was chasing her, and each time she shot out of a dead sleep Brad would grab her, shake her out of her dream-state until she finally snapped out of it, looking around the room wide-eyed, uncomprehendingly, until she saw where she really was, that she really was safe, and then she would collapse into Brad's arms, crying fitful tears.