Shadow of Perception (43 page)

The razor-sharp edge connected with David’s cheek, but the good ol’ boy still managed to unbuckle the seatbelt. Grabbing the headrest with one hand, he shot out his fist.

Pudge ducked, then shoved the scalpel up, catching the soft spot under David’s chin. As he screamed, Pudge dug the scalpel deeper until the blade pierced David’s tongue.
 

With a grunt, Pudge ripped the scalpel from beneath his chin. Blood poured from David’s mouth. He clutched the gash with one hand, narrowed his watery eyes and pushed his way into the back of the van.
 

Knowing Eden would be expecting David, Pudge didn’t have time for a brawl. Pudge sliced the air again. Once. Nothing but air. Twice. Air again. Third time around, Pudge slit his nose. When he used his free hand to shield his face, Pudge jabbed the blade into the back of his hand. Plucked it out, then slashed his stomach.

He swung, while Pudge anticipated he’d clutch his bleeding torso. His fist connected with the side of Pudge’s head.
 

hurry hurry kill him kill him

Driven by rage, hatred and need, Pudge punched the button securing the intern’s seatbelt, then shoved him to the floor of the van. David, the pathetic, wannabe cowboy looked down at the intern, and raised his leg over the dead man’s body. Pudge took advantage of David’s concern for the man and thrust the scalpel into the cowboy’s gut. Twisted, then gripped the handle with both hands and dragged the blade. David didn’t drop.
 

“Fucking die,” Pudge shouted. Ripped the blade from his gut then aimed for his throat.

The scalpel connected.

David’s eyes widened.

Pudge pulled the blade free. When he fell forward, landing on top of the intern, Pudge quickly flipped him over, and slashed his throat.

Ryan moaned.

Before the man regained full mobility, Pudge reached around his headrest and slit his throat, too.
 

Panting hard, Pudge unbuckled Ryan’s seatbelt, grabbed under his armpits, and pulled him over the van’s center console. Once the bodies were piled in the back, next to the camera equipment, Pudge dragged in deep breaths.

The country music streaming from the speakers continued to play. The van’s engine still hummed. Pudge glanced out the window, checked every direction, then reached for the backpack. After setting the bag on the passenger seat, Pudge checked the rearview mirror.
 

Blood splatter covered Pudge’s skin. “Damn it.” Pudge looked around the van. “I need to make myself pretty for the bitch.”

will anders use will anders

Pudge climbed into the back of the van. Although Ryan’s crisp, white shirt was covered in blood, his black over coat appeared clean.
 

Moving fast, Pudge pulled the coat off the dead man, and slipped into it. A little big, but better big than bloodied. Eden couldn’t be alarmed. She couldn’t know or suspect. She was the next to die.
 

Shrugging into Ryan’s overcoat, Pudge spied a blanket next to the equipment and the dead bodies. A water bottle, likely David’s, sat in the cup holder by the driver’s seat. After dumping water onto the blanket, Pudge wiped the blood spatter, then checked the rearview mirror again. Neck and face clean, Pudge smiled, then tossed the blanket over the bodies.

amazing amazing precious amazing

“I was kind of badass, wasn’t I?” Pudge asked.

yes yes i want you so bad so bad feel you fuck you

Desire ran through Pudge’s body. Three kills in a matter of minutes. A new record. One that definitely required a good fucking. “Maybe we should see Kyle later,” Pudge suggested.

only only if you promise to kill him too kill him

“So greedy. It’s one of the things I love about you. Won’t Eden be enough?”

mama mama too please please

Pudge glared at the rearview mirror. “You know the rules. She dies naturally.”

you you can come up with an excuse excuse

“I can for these guys,” Pudge said, and nodded toward the back of the van. “I left the studio, my car wasn’t working. I walked home or paid cash for a bus or cab.”

your prints bloody bloody your prints

“I’ve been in this van a million times. I’ll wipe stuff up, but my DNA was in here long before today.”

no no check your hand blood so much blood.

“Shit.” Pudge stared at the deep, three inch gash. Blood oozed from the wound, and trickled into the cuff of Ryan’s coat.

what what will we do now what now

Pudge moved to the back of the van again, ripped the shirtsleeve off of Ryan’s arm, then used the material to cover the hand wound. Once in the driver’s seat, Pudge buckled the seatbelt, turned off the shitty music, then shifted the van into DRIVE.

“Slight change of plans,” Pudge said, and drove the van out of the parking lot. “I’ve got to make sure my blood isn’t in this van or on any of the bodies. Fuck.” Pudge punched the passenger seat. Blood began to stain the material Pudge had used to tend to the wound. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m taking Eden home to meet Mama.”

why why mama cant see cant know she will talk she will talk

“To who? Mama’s arms are cuffed to the bed, her fat mouth is sealed shut and she has absolutely no access to the phone. Keep your cool. I don’t need you screwing this up for us.”

worried worried so scared worried

“Knock it off,” Pudge shouted. “You’re the one that wants everyone dead.”

sorry sorry plan tell me the plan

“We’re going to keep it simple. We’ll take Eden back to Mama’s, kill her…I dunno, maybe in the kitchen.”

good good big knives knives big

“Sicko.” Pudge smiled, then said, “After Eden’s dead, we’ll clean up any of my blood, clean the van, throw her inside with the others, then ditch it somewhere far away from the house. I just wish I could remember which one of these dicks I cut myself on…had to be David. He put up a fight. The guy just wouldn’t die.”

clothes clothes take his clothes

“Yes. You’re so brilliant.” Pudge grinned. “I’ll take all of their clothes and not have to worry about my blood being on any of them. Even if they did find my blood, they still wouldn’t know it was mine. Unless…what if they force all WBDJ employees to give a DNA swab?”

we we will leave quit the job wait for mama to die then leave start fresh fresh start

Pudge nodded. “Another brilliant idea. It’s obvious that prick, Rodger, isn’t going to give us a chance. We’ll quit before the shit hits the fan, and find something else to do while we wait for the fat bitch to die. Then where will we go? California? Florida?”

warm warm somewhere warm anywhere with you precious i love you

Pudge released a deep sigh. They’d been through so much together, and Pudge couldn’t wait until they were alone, in the privacy of their bedroom. After they screwed each other silly, they could plan, dream and fantasize about the future.
 

“I love you, too,” Pudge said, then glanced at the van’s clock. “We’re close to Eden’s townhouse and only a few minutes off schedule. It’ll be at least another thirty minutes before anyone from the station starts looking for David, Eden and the others.” Anticipation coiled through Pudge’s belly. Plenty of time to take care of business.
 

Pudge slowed the van along the curb in front of Eden’s place. Glancing at the townhouse, Pudge caught Eden looking out the family room window. Seconds later, Eden exited, then hurried down the front steps.
 

boy toy dont forget edens boy toy

With everything that had happened, Pudge
had
forgotten all about him. Hopefully he wasn’t in the house. Even if he was, what did it matter? Pudge drove the WBDJ van. Eden worked for the station. Fuck it.

want want to fuck him

“So do I, now hush,” Pudge whispered as Eden waved and approached the van.
 

When Eden opened the passenger door, she climbed in and smiled. “Hey, Rusty. I wasn’t expecting you. I thought David was picking me up.”

“Rodger thought it’d be best if David and Ryan went immediately to the church. So, you’re stuck with me.”

“No hardship there,” Eden said. “It’s been a while since you’ve worked the camera for me. I love working with David, but I also love the way you capture everything that’s going on when we’re working a site.”
   

minion minion she treats you as her lowlife lackey minion

“Well, I hate working for you,” Pudge said, then punched Eden in the face.

Her head snapped back, and connected with the window. Before she could gain her bearings, Pudge hit her again, unbuckled her seatbelt, then reached over the center console. Grabbing Eden’s hair and overcoat, Pudge shoved her toward the back of the van. Once Eden lay on the floorboard, Pudge climbed over her, then grabbed the backpack.

Eden moaned, and shook her head. She opened her eyes wide, then twisted her body.

Pudge kicked her in the gut. Once. Twice.
 

Coughing, Eden hugged her waist, and curled her legs. “Stop. Please, Rusty. Stop,” she cried, then raised her head. “Oh my God.” Her eyes grew wide as she gaped at David’s bloodied cowboy boot. “David?”

“He’s dead,” Pudge said, and snapped a handcuff around her wrist.
 

Eden quickly jerked her arm. Pudge was faster, and clasped the other cuff around the metal rod holding the headrest.

The bitch fought against the cuffs. She pulled and tugged at the headrest to the point Pudge thought she might actually rip the metal rod out of the seat.

kill kill her now dont wait kill her now

“Two great minds think alike,” Pudge said. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Pudge grabbed the bloody scalpel from the backpack, then glanced out the van’s back window. A car approached, slowed, then parked along the curb. Although the car idled some thirty feet behind the van, Pudge didn’t want to take any chances killing Eden just yet.

After slipping the scalpel back into the backpack, Pudge reached inside for the Taser gun. “I need you to stay still, and be quiet for a little while. If you don’t, I’ll just keep doing this.”

Pudge shot Eden with the Taser gun. Her body bowed, violently jerked, twitched, then she collapsed.

Satisfied, Pudge moved back into the driver’s seat, shifted gears, then headed for home.

*

Michael Morrison gripped the steering wheel, and clenched his jaw. Heart beating erratically, he waited until the news van turned the corner, then stepped on the gas pedal.
 

Moments ago, when he’d turned the corner to reach Eden’s townhouse, he’d seen the WBDJ news van. At the time, he’d thought the situation perfect. He hadn’t noticed Eden’s boyfriend’s Trans Am along the street, and assuming she’d entered the news van, he figured she’d be gone for a while and he could deposit the DVDs at her front door.
 

He hadn’t anticipated Eden being kidnapped in broad daylight, though.
 

At first, he wasn’t sure if Eden had been taken against her will or not. He hadn’t been able to see much through the news van’s back window. When he’d seen the electric, blue light dancing, and caught the brief iridescent glow of Eden’s horrified face, he panicked. He’d tested Taser and stun guns in the past, and had even considered purchasing one to subdue his patients. With his access to sedatives, he’d realized he didn’t need the weapon. Now he was glad he’d researched them and had actually shot several models. If he hadn’t, Eden would have been taken, without anyone’s knowledge.

But he knew. Now he needed to tell someone before something terrible happened to Eden.
 

He didn’t want to call the police. Not yet.
 

“Damn it,” he muttered, and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He’d completed his death wish list, and had only one last thing to do.
 

As he followed the news van, he considered his options. If he called the police, and gave them Eden’s location, they could apprehend the stalker. At least he assumed the person driving the van was the stalker. Considering he’d seen someone lurking around her house one time too many, how could he not? It didn’t matter at this point. What mattered was Eden’s safety. While he needed her to tell the world his story, he also wanted to keep her safe. He hadn’t been able to protect Eliza. Her mother had brainwashed his
impressionable
daughter, and while he’d tried to stop Eliza from going through procedure after procedure, Eliza hadn’t listened. She was dead, but Eden was still alive. He could be the one to make sure she remained that way.
 

Deciding he’d call the police, Michael reached for his cell phone, then hesitated. The phone wasn’t one of his disposables, it was his personal phone. Traceable, the police would know he’d made the call. Eden would learn his identity. She would eventually, but that was to happen when he was ready. He wasn’t ready yet.

He could stop at a payphone. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even seen a payphone.