Dead Even (27 page)

Making her say she loved him, and wanted him, was simply a manner of demeaning her. A way of control. He did it because he knew it disgusted her, not because he had a deep need to hear the words. The only deep need this man had was to inflict as much pain and horror as he possibly could. She understood that. She understood him. She would not play his game again.

“Take off your clothes, Audra. Do it slow and seductive. Make me want you, and maybe I'll let you live.”

She stood defiantly. “Go to hell.”

He looked back toward the van. “You'll do as I say, or I'll kill the kid.”

Audra stared into his eyes, and knew he was lying. She could tell when he touched Jason that he wanted to believe he was his son, that somehow he needed that little piece of immortality.

“No,” she said quietly. “You won't hurt him. He is your son. He loves you, even though he has never met you until now.” As she spoke the words, she prayed that they were registering somewhere in Isaac's twisted brain.

Isaac's face contorted, and Audra saw his eyes flicker as he tried to digest her words. She must have gotten through to him, because he glared at her, speaking harshly. “Take off your clothes. Now!” He jerked the rope, but instead of coming toward him, Audra backed slowly away. She would rather the rope choke the life out of her than succumb to him again. And maybe, if the rope was tight, she could jerk him off his feet.

Isaac loosened the rope and laughed. “It won't work, Audra. You are going to please me before you die. You're going to beg me to do it to you again and again. Just like last time.”

Inside the van, Jason had worked his way into the front seat. Even though his hands and feet were tied, he could still maneuver with his body.

The crazy man had started to use the chloroform again, but he had promised him he would stay on the floor of the van with the blanket pulled over him. What would his reaction be if he caught him?

In the roadway ahead, Jason could see Isaac and his teacher, illuminated by the headlights from the van. The motor was still running. If he could somehow put the van into gear and move forward.…

He stood beside the steering wheel. No way. With both feet tied together, he couldn't use the gas pedal. He sat down on the seat, but in this position, his short legs could not reach the pedal. He looked around desperately.

The seven-foot rope was now stretched tightly between Audra's neck and Isaac. He stood in the middle of the road, taunting her.

“I've been looking forward to this moment all week, Audra. And it makes no difference to me whether you fight or not, the end will be the same. Come on my pretty—say you love me. Beg me to—”

Audra saw the van inching forward out of the corner of her eye. Before she had time to think about what was happening, the van suddenly spun forward fast, directly at Isaac's back.

Too late, Isaac realized what was happening and tried to get out of the way. With a howl of rage he threw his arms out to stop the van. Audra watched in disbelief as his body flew up over the hood, landing in a crumpled heap beside the roadway.

The van swerved on up the road, then jerked to a stop.

Audra pulled the rope off from around her neck and raced for the vehicle. She opened the door and found Jason sitting on the edge of the seat, his feet still pushing hard on the brake.

She put the van into park, then hugged him to her. “Are you all right?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah. Did I get him?”

Tears streamed down Audra's face. “Yes, thank God. How did you ever manage to do that?”

Jason reached down and picked up
Moby Dick.
“I needed about three inches to reach the gas pedal. I put
Moby Dick
on it, then put the van into gear and sat down and pushed on the book. I was so afraid you might be back in the middle of the road! When I sat down, I couldn't see anymore!” His voice was cracking, as it all started to register.

Audra looked back at the lifeless form lying beside the road. “You were wonderful, Jason. Let me untie you, then let's get out of here.” Her hands began working on the rope.

Behind them, Isaac regained consciousness and stumbled to his feet. He could see the van in the road ahead. He crouched down and crept silently toward it.

Audra felt his presence right before the door was yanked open, but couldn't react fast enough. Isaac lunged for her. She pulled away, feeling his rough hands as they encircled her wrists. “No!” she screamed. “No!” She used the weight of her body to push against him, trying to force him out of the van. They fell together to the ground, clumsily.

Audra felt his knee in her stomach, but her hands were once again free. She lashed out at him, scratching his face. Suddenly he was on her, pinning her to the ground. His face was next to hers, bleeding and contorted. She could smell his sour, fetid breath as he panted.

“Go Jason!” she yelled. “Get out of here!”

But Isaac was too fast. He yanked Audra to her feet, and with one mighty shove sent her spinning backward. She fell, rolling to the side of the snow-covered road. Before she could get back on her feet, she saw Isaac jump in the van.

“No!” she screamed, as she realized what was happening. “Jason! Ja-son!”

She ran down the road after the van, but its taillights soon disappeared in the night. She sank to her knees. “Oh, no. Oh, please, God. No.”

*   *   *

“You can't leave her!” Jason yelled, hitting against Isaac with his hands. “It's too cold! She'll freeze to death!”

Isaac pushed him back down into the passenger seat, his words coming in broken sentences as he tried to sort through his emotions. “We don't need her, son. My son. Mothers don't—mothers don't understand. They don't know—they don't know about our special needs. We're better off without her. Can't you see that?”

Jason wanted to scream at the stupid man that he was not his son, but the insane look in Isaac's eyes frightened him. He tried to think what to do.

“Maybe we could be a family—the three of us. Wouldn't that be all right?” Jason spoke the words tentatively.

Isaac shook his head. “No, my son. My handsome son.” He reached over and touched Jason's cheek. “She would try to turn you against me—try to control our lives. We don't need her. We don't need anyone. From now on it's just the two of us.”

*   *   *

Audra was already becoming aware of the freezing temperature. She stood, brushing snow from her clothing. Thank God she had dressed warmly to go sledding.

Her eyes searched the darkness for a sign of light—a point to aim for. There was nothing.

The road she was on was merely a small pasture lane. The farmer had made one run with a tractor, scooping the snow to the side of the road. Should she start in the direction the van had gone, or head back the way they had driven in? Isaac obviously knew the area. He could probably reach a main road by continuing forward. She only knew what he had said to her. If she could believe him, they had driven about three miles north on this little winding lane. She would have three miles to go before getting back to the main road. Once there, she could head back to the west and hopefully find a farmhouse.

She wanted to follow after the van, but her instincts told her that would be foolish. She could become hopelessly lost unless she stuck to a known path.

No. She would never be able to get help for Jason if she spent hours wandering in circles in some farmer's pasture. She would head back to the south—the way they had driven in.

She needed something to cover her face as she ran, something to filter out the frigid air. She searched her pockets, but they were empty. Quickly she shed her coat and stripped off her blouse. She still had on an undershirt, and with her heavy parka, that would be enough to retain her body heat.

Audra wrapped the blouse around the bottom of her face, put her coat back on and secured the hood, tying it tightly in place to hold the makeshift mask.

I can do it,
she told herself as she began running, pacing herself as she had been taught years ago.
It's only three miles back to the main road. I can do it! I've got to. For Jason.

Chapter TWENTY-SIX

Ahead, Isaac could see the lights of the city. He had taken the Toulon road from the interstate. It would place him on Twenty-Seventh, only two blocks away from his home.

It wouldn't be safe to return the van to the garage, but he had already figured out that problem. He would leave it at the blind lady's house. She had a big double-car garage sitting just to the west of her home. He would make up some story and leave it there. She lived only two blocks away. If anything happened, it would always be there waiting for him, safe and sound. He giggled at his cleverness, wishing the boy was awake to share the moment.

Jason sat with his head resting against the door of the van, his eyes closed. He knew the man thought he was sleeping. Instead, he had only grown weary of listening to his mad, rambling discourse, feigning sleep to escape it. The only thing that Isaac had said which was of any interest to him, was his talk about his second hiding place. Jason filed that little piece of information neatly away in his computer brain for future use.

Isaac passed the intersection of Castlebury and Twenty-Seventh. His eyes searched down the block for any sign of activity around his house. The street seemed quiet. He smiled confidently and continued on.

*   *   *

Philomena Leikum heard the doorbell and smiled to herself. It had to be Ivan. He was the only one who ever came calling after dark. It had been almost a week since he had dropped by, and she had missed his company.

Her hand reached down for the wooden lever to lower the footrest on her recliner. Such a nice young man. Always took the time to listen to her stories and her complaints.

She crossed the darkened living room smoothly, her feet moving swift and sure. She knew every inch of her house. She was eighty-three, and glaucoma had left her totally blind for the last ten years. At first her children had insisted she move into a rest home. Then there was the flurry as one after another wanted her to move in with them. She had resisted all their suggestions.

“Now you listen to me,” she had told them. “I have just lost my eyesight, not my senses. I've lived in Hays for sixty-three years, and in this house for thirty of those years. I'm not about to move clear across the country and spend my last days getting on my children's nerves, and getting used to a different climate.”

They had argued and pleaded, but she had stood fast. Finally, one by one, they stayed with her until they were convinced she could handle it on her own. Then they had returned to their own lives and families. Which was as it should be. They had all been home for Christmas. Fifty-three of them. “For the last time,” she had told them. After this, she would make the trip to one of their homes. It had taken her days to get her small home back with everything in place. They tried, but when a piece of furniture was moved even half an inch, it threw her off.

Philomena's hand reached up on the wall for the light switch. She flipped it on and opened the door.

“Good evening, Mrs. Leikum,” Isaac said. “How are you getting along tonight?”

“I figured that was you, Ivan,” She answered, recognizing the raspy voice. So sad about the cancer. “And I'm doing right fine. Just been sitting here listening to the radio and the snow reports.” She swung the screen door open. “Come on in out of the cold. I'll make us some coffee.”

He stepped into the living room. “I have a problem, Mrs. Leikum, and I was hoping you could help me with it.”

“Why certainly, Ivan, if I can.”

Isaac smiled at the use of the name he had invented for himself, one close enough to his own that he would remember it. He had a whole litany he used when the occasion warranted it.

“I have to go back in the hospital, for a few tests on my throat. I might have to go through chemo again, they tell me.”

Philomena made a little clucking noise. “Such a shame. You've been through so much, already.”

“What I need,” Isaac said, “is a place to leave my car. With the snow and all, I hate to leave it on the street. Would there be room to leave it in your garage?”

Philomena nodded vigorously. “Why, of course. Of course. The youngsters up the street even cleaned my walks and driveway, so you should have no trouble getting it in. You're more than welcome.”

“Does it make any difference which side I use?”

“Yes. My Jacob's old Studebaker is on the left side. I never could bring myself to get rid of it. The grandkids, they still take it for a spin once in a while when they're home. But I'm sure there is plenty of room for your car on the other side.”

Isaac was getting impatient now to get away. “I'm due at the hospital in thirty minutes. I'll just put it in, then walk back to my house and call a cab. Thank you so much.”

Philomena walked him to the door. “I'll say a rosary for you, son. For the cancer.”

Isaac shut the door and returned to the van.
Stupid old biddy.
It was getting entirely too easy to fool people. Where was the challenge? After everything died down a little, he would come back and kill her. Yes. It would be fun to terrorize her, move her furniture around, disorient her. He slipped quickly into the fantasy as he drove the van into her garage.

In Isaac's absence, Jason had worked furiously at the rope that was holding him down to the base of the chair. All he had succeeded in doing was causing his wrists to bleed. He had tried to convince Isaac not to tie him down, promising faithfully to wait for him, and even calling him “dad.” But Isaac wasn't buying it. He waited, tired from his struggling, as Isaac drove the van into the garage and then returned to him.

Isaac began undoing the ropes. “We're almost home now, son,” he said. “You'll like it. I know. We'll have to stay in the attic for a while—until things cool down—just for a short time. The police won't be able to hold my father for long. They have nothing on him.” He stopped working on the ropes and laughed. “The van was clean. I always convince Father to get a new van after—after a killing or two. Father likes to please me. He doesn't know why I insist on a new van every year.”