The End of Evil Ch.15

Junie had barely come to live with her new owners when ugly reality intruded on their idyllic world. Her search for a Master had caught the attention of a serial killer and she had barely escaped being his next victim. He was caught and facing trial; but now Junie had to testify. The whole idea of leaving her new home was more than she could bear to think about.

But she had to do it. Not only was there a subpoena, there was Monica. Her new friend, Monica, the only other woman to escape with her life, was a tiny fragile thing. Her body was barely healed from the horrific trauma of her assault and if Monica could be brave enough to face court and the man who had mutilated her, Junie knew she had to do it too, for Monica's sake.

Junie knew she was not going to have to do it alone. Her owners, Bob and Donna, were going to be there with her every step of the way. She knew she couldn't do it without them.

Chapter 15: The End of Evil

Bob felt like he was coming alive as he entered into the forest. As soon as he entered into the deeper darkness of the trees he stopped and stood perfectly still, letting his mouth drop open and let the energy of the woods enter into him. His ears were perfectly attuned to the world around him. The familiar, almost inaudible, hum and tick of the forest was there, he had come to think of it as the sound of the trees. Then he heard the movement of something larger moving through the woods. Noiselessly he moved toward it. He knew where each step would fall on the deep needles of the forest. Soon he was within feet of Agent Durant.

Bob could tell that the veteran law man was making every effort to be quiet. Bob gave a low whistle, and David whirled, pointing his gun in Bob's direction. Bob whispered softly, "It's me."

Agent Durant moved closer, his words almost inaudible, "I figure he will be trying for the road. His car must be over that way." He looked at the bow. "Where is your gun?"

"I left it with Junie. She says she stabbed him. I don't know how badly he is wounded, but he will be moving slower." He held up the bow. "I am better with this."

"You certainly surprised me."

"I know these woods, they are my home. I will take this part along the lake front, you move back along the driveway. Junie is calling the sheriff and the ambulance. You can meet them."

Durant whispered softly, "If you see him, kill him. I don't care if you shoot him in the back. I don't want him walking away from here."

Bob grunted, "He hurt my Donna. He is a dead man." Bob moved out and vanished silently into the woods.

David watched him go and marveled at the easy way Bob moved through the woods. He would have never guessed this about the easy-going man he had met this spring. He turned toward the road, knowing he was making more noise than he ought, but it was almost pitch dark and he did not want to get out his flashlight. A flashlight would only telegraph his location, and blind him to the darkness.

Bob would move quickly for a dozen strides and stop, all his senses aware. He could hear the FBI agent moving away from him toward the driveway. He would listen then move on. He was almost halfway from the house to the highway when he heard a quiet scrabbling in the pine needles ahead of him and then a cough. Now each step was slow; easing his weight down on the thick carpet of needles, and stepping around branches and patches of fern. As he got closer he could hear the breathing, oddly labored with a whistling gurgle that Bob recognized, from his hunting, as a punctured lung. His grim smile grew wider. Junie had stabbed him good.

The breathing was not moving and Bob circled slowly working his way around trying to pick up some movement. When he caught the strange sour smell of fear and sweat, he pulled out an arrow and moved closer. Each step separate from the next, his feet feeling their way. He could tell Card was hunkered down under the low branches of a clump of low growing firs. He knew where he was, but he could not see him. He was only about twenty feet away. Bob slowly inhaled and then let out a long low growl.

The breathing stopped and there was a rustling sound of clothing rubbing on bark. Bob knew that Card had pulled back tighter against the tree. Bob carefully reached and snapped a twig and made a small snuffling sound. Then he stood still and silent, letting the fear and curiosity grow in his prey. He knocked the arrow and pulled back the string of the bow and waited.

When Sam Card stepped out of his shelter, Bob aimed at his heart and then felt a wave of reluctance. Human or not, he realized he did not have it in him to take the life of this thing. He pulled his aim up and to one side and let the arrow sink through Sam Card's upper right shoulder. Card staggered back and let out a low whistling shriek.

Bob growled again and then barked, "Run monster."

Sam Card turned and bolted toward the driveway. Bob pulled out a second arrow and followed, herding the panicked man toward Agent Durant. Bob made no effort to move quietly now. Deliberately he crashed through the woods behind the struggling fugitive, urging him on. When they broke onto the driveway, Sam Card froze for a second and then turned and ran blindly toward the highway. As he fled from the man behind him, he did not even see the FBI agent in the dark suit rise up before him. The sound of the gun was deafening. Sam Card was stopped and made a tiny grating sound and then fell full length, face down on the gravel.

Agent Durant pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and shined it on the body. The tip and shaft of the arrow reflected the light where it had come through Sam Card's shirt in back. Bob could see it was not moving like it would have been if Card were still breathing. There was a great deal of blood on the back of Card's head. Grabbing one of Sam Card's hands, he rolled him over and looked at the neat hole in the center of his forehead. Bob looked up at Agent Durant. "You are a good shot, better than me."

Durant shined the light into Sam Card's face and muttered, "Go check on the women. I will stay here."

The dull boom of the gun and the echoes that followed brought Junie's head up. Donna's hand clenched hers and she muttered, "Is he dead?"

A soft tremble shook through Monica and she pressed herself even closer to Junie's side. Junie carefully put the gun she had been holding for so long down and slipped an arm around Monica. She murmured, "It will be over soon, pretty girl. David will come back soon."

Monica's voice was soft and clear, "I told him I loved him."

Junie did not move, but she tightened her arm around Monica, "I am glad. He loves you too."

Bob came in the back door and looked at the little group of women huddled together on the floor. He spoke softly, "It's over. He is dead."

At the sound of his voice Donna tried to get up again and once more Junie hushed her and held her down. Donna protested, her voice was impatient and complaining, "Let me up. I want Bob."

Monica's voice was quivering on the edge of breaking, "Where is David? Is he all right?"

Bob's voice was distracted and he knelt by Donna, he spoke without looking up, "David? He is fine. He is out on the driveway waiting for the sheriff." Monica jumped up, ran out the backdoor and into the darkness before anyone could say a word. Junie started to get up to try to catch her, but Bob shook his head, "Stay here, Junie. We need you here."

Bob touched Donna' face and she grabbed his hand; her words were reassuringly normal and irritable. "I am fucking tired of lying on this fucking floor. I want to get up and lay on the couch. My head fucking hurts and it is uncomfortable as hell down here."

Bob looked in her eyes and then smiled, "That's my goddess speaking. Sure, let's get you up on the couch, but I want you to lie still up there." Gently he slipped his arms under her and lifted her to his chest and Donna's arms wound around his neck. Junie met his eyes and slipped her arms under his, adding her strength to his as he struggled to stand. His voice was amused, "I just can't quite do that like I used to." Soon Donna was on the couch and Bob was gently running his fingers over the back of her skull. "You have a blue ribbon sized goose egg back here, my goddess; tell me how you are feeling?"

Donna blinked, "It's all in my head. My head just really hurts, hurts on the outside, aches on the inside."

"Is there anything that is numb or tingles? Do you feel nauseous? Are you dizzy?"

Donna started to shake her head and then stopped with a little moan. "No, none of those things."

Bob's voice was gently mocking, "Remember I said to stay still."

Donna's voice was sad, "Bob, did you kill him?"

Bob took a deep breath, "No, no I didn't. I thought I wanted to. I thought I could, but in the end I couldn't. David killed him."

Donna reached for him, "Good, David is a true hunter of men."

Monica flew down the driveway, oblivious to the stones under her bare feet, her breath coming in short gasps. The form of Agent Durant loomed before her and caught her before she tripped over the body lying in the gravel. Monica grabbed the front of his suit, clutching at him furiously.

Monica was speaking furiously, "David, I cannot bear it anymore. I cannot let you go away again. You have to listen to me. You have to understand." Her voice was that same clear tense tone she used when she testified. David knew it was used when Monica was scared to death and yet resolved to be in complete control. He also knew that she could only hold it together for so long. She was pushing and pulling at him, trying to shake him. "David, I can't survive without you. Promise me, damn it, promise me you will never ever go away again."

He stood paralyzed looking down at her, unable to find the words. Every part of his mind was saying that this was wrong, he could not do this. He had to tell her that this was a mistake. But he could not find the words. He swallowed, "Monica, pretty girl..."

She looked up at him and interrupted, "No! No, don't say it. Don't think it. I don't care about doubts or excuses. I don't care if this is impossible. All I care about is being with you. Nothing else matters." Her voice was quivering with effort to convince him. Standing as tall as she could on her tiptoes, she whispered furiously, her lips inches from his. "All I want is you." And she pressed her lips to his, her arms wrapping around his neck.

For many moments he stood, his lips motionless under hers, and then he let out a groan and pulled her tighter against him, pressing his mouth to hers. When he let her free she whispered again, "Promise me."

It was like breaking down a wall, but he said the words. The only words he had left. "I promise."

Only then did she release him. "Good." She remained pressed tight to his side as she looked at the crumpled form lying on the ground. "I need to look at him. I need to see that he is really dead."

David shone his flashlight on the dead body. Monica slowly stepped closer, her eyes curious and wary. "He looks so harmless now, like the evil has gone out of him."

"His spirit is gone. All that is left is the meat and bones, just the ashes of a fire."

The headlights of ambulance and the sheriff's pickup truck found them there looking down at the body, her hand trapped in his.

Donna argued all the way out to the ambulance. "I don't need to go. I am feeling much better. It is just a bump on my head." Bob rode with her and Junie followed along behind in the SUV. And she was right. There were no fractures on the x-ray and the doctor said there was no evidence of any intracranial hemorrhaging. He said that he thought that Donna's thick French braiding on the back of her head had probably acted as a cushion, protecting her from a more serious injury. Diagnosing her with a concussion, he allowed her to go home with strict instructions for Bob and Junie to keep an eye on her for signs of nausea, dizziness, or confusion.

It was early morning when they drove back down the driveway. There were three different big black sedans parked along the driveway. Bob yawned and muttered, "The mafia is here." After they pulled into the garage, Bob helped Donna to the house and straight to bed. "Make us some coffee, Junie. I suspect we will be up for a while longer."

Agent Gold was sitting at their kitchen table working on a laptop computer. He looked up and smiled in greeting. In a soft voice he asked, "How is she doing?"

"Doctor says concussion. She is sleeping now."

Agent Gold nodded, "Agent Durant is trying to get Monica to sleep now too." Gold looked at his watch, and looked surprised, "In fact, that was almost an hour ago. I guess he is sleeping too." Suddenly the younger FBI agent yawned. "Excuse me. Sorry about that. No one has been getting much sleep since Card escaped."

The yawns were irresistible. After starting the coffee, Junie blinked sleepily and swayed, "Well if everyone is falling asleep on their feet, I am going to go lie down before I fall down." She turned abruptly and headed back into her Masters' bedroom and stripped off, crawled under the covers with Donna, and was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

This time when the dream started she felt surprised. Why was she dreaming now that he was dead? She spoke out loud, calling to the empty rooms, "You are dead." But is seemed like the silence swallowed up her words. She looked down and saw the scissors in her hand again, shining wet and red with blood. She had an odd little rush of joy, she really liked these scissors. They were her favorites and she thought they were lost.

She still had this sense that there was something she needed to find, something important. She walked through the house and looking down she noticed that the floors were once again the familiar sealed stone tiles. She nodded in satisfaction. She really did not like that carpet.

In the basement the dungeon was up and Junie walked around the St. Andrew's cross, smiling at it like a long lost old friend. Then her attention was drawn to a doorway that she had never seen before. She went up to the door and looked at it puzzled and realized that it was somehow part of the fireplace and she pushed on it. The room inside was disturbingly similar to the front room of her ex-husband, the same dark walls, the same heavy leather furniture and the same disgusting smell of cigarettes.

Sitting in the room were three men, Greg, her ex-husband, James Conrad, her former online Master, dressed ludicrously in his leather chaps and nothing else, and Sam Card, covered in dirt like he had been when she last saw him. All three looked up at Junie in surprise and, to her surprise, guilt.

Junie looked at them and was suddenly enraged. Her voice came out as a low growl, "Fuck no. Oh, fuck no. What are you doing in my house?" They all started talking, but no sound came out of their mouths and Junie brandished the bloody scissors at them. "Shut the fuck up and get out of my house! Get out, get out now!"

Bob's voice and hands shaking her pulled her from her tirade. "Junie, if you are going to talk like that, you can get the fuck out of my bed." But his sleepy voice was amused and loving.

Junie's heart was racing and she could feel the adrenaline singing through her veins. She knew from experience that she would not sleep again for awhile. She had to think hard to remember what day it was and what time she had gone to bed. The alarm clock on the night stand said 1:22 and Junie decided from the gray light filtering through the curtains that it must be afternoon. She slipped from bed and looked back. Her Master had already rolled over and fallen back asleep. Donna was in her habitual little ball that meant she was sound asleep.

The house was silent and Junie peeked out into the front room. Agent Gold was sitting on the couch with his feet propped up, sound asleep. Happy was lying on the floor next to the door casually chewing on the little rug Junie had put there to catch any dirt that may have gotten past the mat by the door. Wrapping a large towel around her, Junie furtively tiptoed through the front room and down the stairs. She could not face putting on the same dirty clothes from yesterday.

As she walked through the basement she found her eyes drawn to the stone fireplace as if she expected the secret door to suddenly appear. Junie shook a finger at the wall and said, "Fuck no."

Pulling on a soft, comfortable, pair of sweats she quickly ran a brush through her hair and brushed her teeth. Pulling on her shoes, she went upstairs. She called softly to Happy, "Come on, you. Let's get you outside for some exercise before you destroy the whole house."

The sky was leaden with rain and the lawn was wet. The water of the lake looked flat and gray as the sky above it. Junie could see the tiny dimples of raindrops making endless circles in the water. Happy tore in her usual crazy circles around the yard. Then she stopped and picked up something in her mouth and trotted up to Junie, her tail tall and wagging with pride at her discovery. Junie looked curiously at the shiny object and then gasped to recognize her scissors. She reached down and took them from the puppy's mouth. "Good girl, Happy."

Happy was all fed and blissfully asleep on the floor in the kitchen. Junie was sipping on a fresh cup of coffee and keeping an eye on a big pot of chicken vegetable soup, thick with chewy homemade noodles. She was mixing up a big batch of her biscuits, when her Master came out of the bedroom. His hair was damp and he was freshly shaved.

His eyes were amused as he looked at the sleeping FBI agent on the couch. Junie poured a cup of coffee for him and he slipped his arm around her waist as he took the mug from her hand. "I wasn't serious about you getting the fuck out of my bed. It just seemed to be the thing to say, when you were so rudely shouting for whoever it was in your dream to get the fuck out of your house."

Junie shook her head. "It was weird. It wasn't just Sam Card. James Conrad and Greg were there too. All three were in this weird little room hidden in the basement fireplace. I was really pissed to find them hiding in there. I told them to get out."

"Did they leave?"

"I don't know. You woke me up and threw me out of bed about that point."

Bob chuckled and moved to look in the pot of soup simmering on the stove. "That smells wonderful. I am starving."

"I made a huge pot. You could have a bowl now and then eat again later."

"That sounds great."

Junie filled a bowl with a ladle, "Is Donna still sleeping?"

He ate standing up in the kitchen, blowing on each spoonful, and then wolfing it down. "Yes, I woke her and talked with her a little to make sure she was doing alright, but she wanted to sleep some more."

"Good."

Bob looked at the sleeping man on the couch, "Agent Gold told me that he had been up for forty-eight hours straight. I am not surprised he is still sleeping with us being out here. He said David probably had been awake a lot longer."

"We were all tired. It's kind of hard to believe it is all over."

Bob grunted, "Well, there will be a lot of loose ends to tie up before this is all really over. They are going to want to take our statements as to what really happened here."

Junie had already told her Master and Mistress about how Sam Card and come into the sewing room and grabbed Monica. She had told them about pushing him, stabbing him with her scissors and him running away. "Oh, I almost forgot. Happy found my scissors in the grass out by the edge of the trees." She pulled them from her pocket and showed him.

Bob looked at the scissors, noting the faint rusty discoloration along the blade. "The FBI may want to see those, Junie. Put them on the table for now."