Read A Mass Murderer - Blood for blood (ADDITIONAL BOOK INCLUDED ) Online
Authors: Sara Wood
Mystery:
A MASS MURDERER:
Blood for Blood
4
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Table Of Content
Copyright
Description
Excert
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
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Copyright 2016
All Right Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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DESCRIPTION
With three of the killers taken care of for the brutal murder of their wives. Ex-cop, Roy Klyne, better known as ‘the Hunter’ and his friend Bill Bates were now after the rest of the gang of killers.
As much as they were in pursuit for vengeance, there were others, too, keen on vengeance especially the rich senator Nathan whose son was the leader of the gang of killers and was the first to die at the hands of the two avengers. The senator did not bother much about the law as the law seemed to keep a blind eye on the whole sordid incident. He did not care whether he was justified in seeking revenge for the death of his son.
The rich senator now hired some professional hit men to track down the ex-cop and his friend. It now appeared that the hunters were being hunted. Will it be a stale mate or will the two friend despite the bounty on their head be successful in their mission of vengeance, one has to be patient to know the final outcome.
EXCERPT
There was a total and utter silence in the room. There was the creak of feet as Klyne shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but nobody looked up, paralyzed by the drama they were watching.
Desperate, Bates rose, still facing the man with the gun pointed at him. His movement was a bit too fast for the nervous looking man. “Wait you can’t…..” those were the last words that Bates ever spoke.
Larry Hailey shot Bill Bates three times and all three shots were fatal. The bullet-riddled body careered to the floor. Bates’s body splayed on the room floor, twitching foe a few seconds like a stranded fish, then lay still, blood pouring out in a crimson river from the wounds.
With Bates down Hailey turned the gun on Klyne, and started to squeeze the trigger.
But he never made it. Klyne, the Hunter moved with unbelievable speed, aiming his own gun and firing twice. Both bullets took Hailey high in the chest, near the throat. Knocking him stumbling backwards, where he finally tripped over the corpse of Bates, lying dead in a pool of their now mingling blood.
BLOOD FOR BLOOD
With the killer preacher left to burn in his own church. Ex-cop Klyne, better known as ‘the Hunter’ and his friend Bill Bates were now on the way out of town as they found that very soon they too might end up with the same fate if they were to hang around in town, more over their task was over and as such there was no necessity for them to stay any longer in that wretched town.
As things were getting a bit heated up and as matters were shaping up too close for comfort Klyne decided to let things simmer down for a while.
“Damn it, Roy, We aren’t playing some kind of baby, kiss-your-hand game! Our wives were brutally killed. And we got to get the dogs that done it.” Bates reminded his friend.
“I’m not forgetting that, Bill.” Klyne’s voice was deceptively calm. “But I reckon that when the heat is on it is best we give it a rest, it is best that we head home and lye low for a while.”
Muttering angrily to himself. Loud enough for Klyne to hear it “Find some two bit whore and get himself screwed, and get all soft. Damned if he aren’t turning yellow.”
Klyne jammed his foot hard on the brakes and brought the vehicle to a stop. “Get down.”
“What?”
“I said for you to get down.”
Bates shivered despite the heat of the day at the icy menace in his friend’s voice. He turned in the seat, trying to get a grin in place, but finding that it didn’t hold on top of all that fear.
“Now, Roy. I didn’t mean nothing by that. I was just funning a mite and….”
“If you don’t get down and face me, Bates, then I’ll shoot you in the back like the dog you are. And that’s the only kind of death you merit.”
“Roy. Roy? I’m right sorry for saying that. I reckon that it’s better if we stick together. At least till this whole thing’s over.”
“Right. One more word like that, and I’ll gun you down, Bill. Think on that. The days when I was just a good neighbor are gone. Maybe gone for ever. That one night back home done changed all that. I’m not the man I was once, and don’t you forget it. I think I’m going back to the way I was when I was younger and in the police force. Maybe not so nice, but I don’t have a Hell of a lot of choice. When we get home, then we do things my way. Quick and clean. Right?”
They didn’t exchange another word all the way home each deep with his own thoughts.
On the way Bates had asked Klyne to at least stick with him until they got back to their homes. The next man they had intended to go for was the man from Memphis, Barry Barton. But first they had other things to do. Both had agreed that it was senseless to try and keep their homes going.
Klyne intended to leave anyway, now that Louise was no longer there to provide him with a reason for sticking down roots and Bates was finding that life wasn’t all that hard for him without Becky. They always intended to move westwards, and they had a fair amount of money salted away. That money was being fast whittled down by Bates. But there was still enough to live it up on, and selling the house should make a little more.
They both had friends in their home town who would arrange for the two properties to be sold. Prime land close to the new Railway station should fetch a good price, particularly as they had signed a document agreeing to sell the two parcels together and that way make more money.
It was near evening when they got to the outskirts of the town, the sunset behind them throwing the jagged mountains into red-tipped silhouettes.
“Hell! It’ll be full dark when we get back, maybe those security guys you have employed to look after the houses while we were away will hear us coming and reckon we’re some trespassers and blast us.” Bates said.
“There won’t be no cops poking around. That’s to the good. We don’t know what’s been going on here after we wiped out that Nathan boy. Maybe his Pa’s got men after us.” Klyne stated.
“I don’t give a sweet damn about that. I just want to get me home. Get things moving to sell out, then head after this other bastard?” Bates said with anger.
“A fair distance, Bill. That’s a mighty long way. Maybe you should spend some time home first. I stand by what I said back in Yuma. As far as the revenge is concerned, you and I are through. I’m not going on with you. I know the names, like you do, and I’m going to be looking for them. I you get there first, then that’s fine with me. I just want to see all of the bastards dead. The way I do it and the way you’ll try it are a long way apart. For me it’s the dying I want. For you it’s everything that comes first. So we go alone. After we’re through here….maybe tomorrow or so and then we part.” Klyne said with deep thought.
Waiting until it was dark, they drove leisurely round the town, avoiding the lights and noise, though Bates figured there’d be no charge laid against them.
“I seen enough of human nature to doubt that. If this Senator Nathan’s as rich and powerful as they say, then he’ll be doing a whole lot of work to get us hung.” Klyne said.
“That aren’t justice,” complained Bates said getting impatient to reach home fast.
“Come on now, Bill. Since when was justice something that depended on pointless little things like right and wrong? You know as well as me that there’s some folks that robs you with a gun and there’s others that’ll rob you with a pen. A lawyer’s the sort of man who performs best when he’s got a bag of gold jammed in his pocket.”
Bates sniffed, and fell silent.
They finally reached their homes around nine O’clock, after watching to make sure the houses weren’t being watched. The security personals were eating together in Klyne’s house, and they seemed to have been making a fair job of managing the houses for them. But they also had two pieces of news.
One of the pieces of news that they gave the two men was bad.
The other was very bad.
First came the bad news.
There was a telegraph form that one of the security guys had picked up in town the day previous. It was from Phoenix, and it was addressed to Bates.
It read: ‘Regret your wife’s sister, Rosy, passed away yesterday. She was in no pain. Funeral is tomorrow. Telegraph instructions regarding her daughter Rebecca.” It was signed: ‘Mrs. Diane Peterson.’
“That’s the lady lives with her. Fine-looking woman. On her own since her husband died. She’ll be just fine for looking after Rebecca.” Bates said.
And as far as Bates was concerned, that seemed the end of the matter. But Klyne stood up and walked over to the chair where he was sitting.
“Damn it, Bill, Shy’s not a damned pet that you can leave here and there when it suits you. She’s your niece, your only relative. Now Becky’s gone, she’s your responsibility. You can’t leave her with some kind neighbor and walk away from it.” Klyne pointed out.
“Well….Look, Roy, If we are carrying on with this feud, then I can’t be having a brat trailing on my butt all the time, now can I?” Bates asked.
It was a fair point. But the key word was ‘if’
“But that’s the whole point of what I’ve been trying to drive into your thick skull since we left Yuma. I’m the one who’s going to carry on. You can do what you like. Move from here and go somewhere far. Set up a little farm with what you got left and take the girl. Start a whole new life. I mean it, Bill. You are not coming with me.”
It took time for the idea to soak into Bates befuddled mind, but it finally penetrated, and he agreed with extreme reluctance to telegraph the good Mrs. Peterson in the morning telling her that he would be out to Phoenix on the first train to pick up his niece.
Klyne finally agreed that he would at least travel to Phoenix with Bates to pick up Rebecca, but that he would then set off after Killer number four.
The worse news came idly from the elderly security personal. Almost as an afterthought.
“There were some strangers calling here a few days back, kind of rough looking guys.” He said.
Klyne looked up with interest. “What strangers? What did they want?”
“Well. We told you about the police chief coming out here? Saying that as far as he was thinking he was glad you done what you done, but that he was getting leaned on from somewhere further up the line?”
“Yes. That was what we figured all along. That’s why we decided to sell up now. Those letters I gave you will take care of all that. But if the police chief and his team of men are letting it go unless we go and spit on their badges, then who else is there?” His voice was disbelieving. “Folks round here all liked Louise and Becky!”
“Sort of hit-men, I guess. Seems that the Pa of that rich kid you gunned down in the Doc’s house is out to have you both dancing on the air. He’s hired some hit men to get after you.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean.” He said. “How did they look like?”
“It weren’t so much the meanness of them all. It was the guy who led them.”
“What was he like? Young or old?”
“Oldish. Begging your pardon for it, Mister Klyne, but he seemed much of an age with you. Sort who’d have been in the armed force or the police.”
A man like Nathan would have gone for the best that money could buy. That would be why it had taken them so long to get to town.
“What was he like?”
“Tall. Very tall. Weiged about….let’s see I think round one-fifty, dressed in ordinary sort of clothes. But all made in black like a preacher he was.”
“But not him, man. He weren’t like no preacher at all, was he?”
The security personal shook his head, agreeing with his friend. “Sure not. Not like a preacher. Longish hair but no beard or moustache.”
“His hair, was it white and his eye brows?” Klyne asked.
“White it was. White as the snow.” The man confirmed, “Seems like you know him?”
Klyne relaxed. Now it was told there was no call for more tension. “Did he say when he was coming back?”
“Yeah. Day after tomorrow. Know him?”
“I do Man,” Klyne laughed, his eyes catching those of Bates, frightened by the outburst of barely controlled rage. “That is….I knew him. Name is John Dalton. Most men call him ‘Snowy’, but not to his face.”
“He sure knew you, Mister Klyne. Is he a kind of old enemy?”
“No . No, I’d say that he was about the nearest I ever did have to a friend.”
Leaving the properties to be auctioned, Bates and Klyne quit their homes for the last time at dawn. All their possessions would be stored for them, though Klyne had little there that he wanted kept. Most of the furniture had been bought by Louise, and he couldn’t see his new life leading him to a settled existence where he’d need tables and chairs.
The town lay dead behind them. There was nothing for either of them ever to go back for, and with Barry Barton breathing vengeance down the backs of their necks, it was time to move on and keep moving.
Klyne had pointed out to Bates that Snowy would also have the list of names, and he would probably know by now just where they’d been, and who they’d removed forever from that list. And he’d be closing in on them, watching to see which way they went next.
“But he won’t guess Phoenix he won’t know about Rebecca. So we go there, then you head west with your niece and drop out of sight. I’ll be moving after Barton.”
Bates grunted. Unconvincingly. He’d brought very little with him and only after Klyne had reminded him did he throw in a few of Rebecca’s clothes. His breath smelled like the bottom of a spittoon, and he was clearly in a bad temper.
They drove around the town, in case they happened to run into Barton and his hit men, leaving their old pick up one block away from the station to mislead any hit men trailing them they boarded the train to Phoenix.
Bates was asleep, having drained the first of the bottles he’d picked up in town, his mouth gaping open, showing a mouthful of blackened, rotting teeth. Roy Klyne sat and thumbed through a paper that the conductor had found for him.
The last few weeks had proved to him what he’d always suspected. That the skill and the feeling for killing never deserted you. It simply lay slumbering, ready to be reawakened.
They were passing some unknown way stations laboring on an upgrade, when the train slowed to a bare crawl. Bates moved in his sleep, rubbing his nose with a grimy finger, then settled back again. Looking round him. Klyne saw that every other person in the coach was asleep.
The trail lay dusty and still right outside his dirty window, and he held the paper almost covering his face and spotted two men looking inquisitively at the sleeping passengers. Klyne’s hair prickled. Without being observed he noticed the very man whom he was hunting. Barry Barton and one of his hit-men.
Towering head and shoulders out of the dust, far taller than the hit-man. Though he wore his jacket with its collar pulled up and his hat tugged over his forehead, Klyne knew him.
The train had climbed laboriously up and was now going downgrade and was gaining considerable speed. They were now traversing a long stretch of deserted land gaining more and more speed.
The locomotive had virtually reached top speed, hooting and whistling as though it was trying to encourage itself to greater efforts on the down grade run.