Survivor: 1 (28 page)

"Well, what do you know," Rick said, leaning back in
his chair and stroking his chin. "I had no idea Jeffrey was
a necrophile as well as a sadist. I've got a client who's
been bugging me about getting him some necro stuff. Animal might come in handy with that, don't you think?"

"You better believe it" What was the world coming to?
First snuff films, now necrophilia videos? What was next?
Cannibalism films?

The image of Jeff tearing a chunk of that infant's flesh
from its body and stuffing it into his mouth, chewing it as
he tore it apart in front of the camera, came to mind and
he shook his head. Fuck yeah, cannibalism films were
next. That was a no-brainer. Shit, no wonder he had to
get out of this business. It was getting sicker and sicker. It
wasn't enough to have some gimp like Animal torture
and slice up some homeless junkie for some faceless pervert. Now they were getting into using people who would
be missed and babies, and Rick was seriously considering having Animal perform cannibalism. Fuck!

"You know as well as I do, Tim, that I don't give a fuck
what my customers are into." Rick leaned forward, his
pale features bored. "People are into all kinds of weird
shit ... fucking little kids, letting chimpanzee's fuck 'em
in the ass, watching coke whores in high heels stomp on
mice and kittens, watching people getting off on being
tortured and shit ... eating shit and drinking piss ...
sticking their heads up horses' asses and eating the shit
while they jack off, watching somebody get cut up, getting off on somebody getting murdered by somebody
like Animal. I'm not into the shit myself, but what the fuck
do I care if some rich pervert wants to get off on this
crap? Know what I mean? Long as they're discreet and
have the money, I'm willing to ... help them out. Know
what I mean?"

Tim nodded. He'd been in the illegal pornography industry long enough to know that the core audience of
this stuff paid a lot of money to obtain it. Show me a man
or a woman who works hard at wearing a veneer of respectability and I'll show you somebody with a dirty secret.

"As much as I would trust you and Animal to do the job
right in securing our loyal subject again," Rick said, leaning back in his chair, "I'm afraid I can't risk it. She's seen
both of you. I do want you to be a part of the production of the film, though. In fact, the client has specifically requested Animal to be the ... ah, how shall I say it? The
method of execution?" Rick grinned.

"So we're going through with it, then? This guy really
wants to see this particular bitch get done?"

"You bet he does."

"Fuck!" Tim couldn't believe it. What kind of sick fuck
wasn't satisfied with two good-looking bitches getting
done? Hell they'd delivered not one, but two snuff films
with some pretty hot-looking chicks getting the shit
fucked out of them by Animal, and that still wasn't
enough. "What, this guy's got money falling out of his asshole or something?"

"Consider it picking up where we left off," Rick said, his
features cold, predatory.

"Huh?"

"We fucked up the first time. We're going to deliver the
second time."

Tim Murray looked at Rick, feeling his skin grow hot
from the implications. What Rick was insinuating was
that there was no additional money involved, that he and
Animal were to do a job for free. "We're doin' this for
free?"

"It's not for free."

"Bullshit it ain't!"

Rick flinched at the sound of Tim's voice, and Tim felt
his stomach roll in his belly. He could tell by the look in
Rick's eyes that he had pushed his limit. "Just shut up and
listen. We're doing her, and we're doing this my way. I
don't need to explain to you why we have to, but-"

"This motherfucker's got us by the balls, doesn't he?"
Tim asked, trying to connect with something that would
appeal to Rick's basic instinct. "We didn't deliver the
bitch he wanted, and now he has us. He's trying to blackmail us, right?"

"Blackmail's the least of our problems right now," Rick
said, leaning forwatd, jabbing a finger at rim. "It's personal, rim. The bitch got the best of you and she fucked
me. I want her. I want to see her sflffer. My client is rightly
pissed, and he's scared shitless. If the bitch tells the cops
and they start chasing down trails and even get one whiff
of who I am, the whole fucking operation falls apart. You
got me? It's not only about covering our asses, it's about
getting the bitch who fucked us and making sure we shut,
her fucking trap"

In that case," Tim said, feeling the tension ease. "We'll
be ready whenever you are."

"This has to be done right," Rick said, drumming his
well-manicured fingers on the desktop. "Let me speak to
my contact. I'll call you tomorrow. What I'll probably do
is arrange to have Lisa abducted. That's already in the
works, and I'll need you to assist."

"Is there any news on the Golgotha cabin?"

Rick shook his head. "It's off-limits after Al fucked up."

'Ibat's what I thought."

"I'll have a plan ready by tomorrow. I'll phone you tomorrow morning with details and hopefully a new location. I'll also have all the equipment you'll need for
shooting. I should have Lisa in twenty-four to forty-eight
hours."

"What about the husband?"

"What about him?"

"What if he causes trouble?"

Rick shrugged. "He'll be dealt with."
"

"Oh" Tim knew not to question him further. Rick was
probably going to hire one of his goons to snatch Lisa in
a stealth move. There was no doubt that she was being
not only extra cautious, she was probably too scared to
leave her home. Rick was pretty good at employing guys that could snatch anybody-businesspeople who had
cheated him, lawyers that had not gone to bat for him the
way they said they would, suppliers that skimmed from
the top. Rick had a way of getting to people who were
cautious and always looking for danger. Whatever it was
Rick did, it worked every time.

"Don't worry, Tim," Rick assured him, grinning as he
leaned back behind his desk. "It'll work out fine. I've got
tabs on the Millers. I'll make a few phone calls and pool!"
He waved his hands like a magician. "She'll cease to exist.
Next thing you know, she'll be before your very eyes
screaming for mercy as you capture her final moments on
film."

Tim smiled as he rose to his feet. "I'll be waiting for
your call, then "Then he went home and prepared for the
upcoming shoot.

Brad Miller woke up late the following morning. He knew
he was sleeping in, but he allowed himself the luxury. After all, Lisa was sleeping soundly beside him and they
were in a plush hotel room, twenty floors above a sprawling casino in the Luxor in Las Vegas.

Brad lay in bed, his mind tracing the events of last
night. Lisa and Billy had returned late last night before
nine-thirty. Brad had thrown the suitcase he had packed
into Billy's car and the lawyer had driven them to John
Wayne Airport, explaining to him what had happened in
Big Bear. "We should have a search warrant by tomorrow
morning," he'd told Brad. "Big Bear PD. and the FBI will be searching that cabin. Golgotha Multimedia has threatened to file an injunction to prevent the search from happening, but I don't foresee that happening."

The police had informed Golgotha of the intent to
search based on the testimony of the victim of a kidnapping and attempted murder who alleged she had been
held at the cabin and that she'd witnessed a second attempted murder there. She also hinted at the possibility
that two homicides had been committed at the residence. A lawyer representing Golgotha had politely informed Big Bear that they would petition a higher circuit
judge to circumvent a search warrant being issued.
Meanwhile, the FBI had been contacted and was working with them on the case. Lisa had been driven to the
Golgotha cabin, and despite being unable to identify the
cabin by sight, she thought she could identify it as the
place she'd been held captive. "She said she remembered
a dip in the driveway," William had explained as they
drove to the airport. "There's a noticeable pothole in the
driveway. Plus we poked around and saw evidence that
the windows to one of the rooms on the south side had
been boarded up. There were fresh nail holes in the shutters consistent with this."

They had tried peering through the windows but had
been unable to catch much of a glimpse of anything; the
curtains had been drawn over all the windows. There
were also spatters of fresh paint dotting the porch, indicating that the place had been fixed up rather hurriedly
within the past two weeks. Sheriff Sweigert had tried the
front door, but it had been locked. "There wasn't a damn
thing we could do without a proper warrant," Billy had
said wearily, shaking his head. "We sat there and waited
for word to come down, and an hour later it did in the
form of a phone call and the arrival of a representative
from Golgotha, who ordered us off the property" William had glanced at Brad as he drove. "The search warrant was
suspended by a higher-court circuit judge, and the appeal is being heard tomorrow"

After dropping them off at the airport, William had told
him whom they would meet in Vegas. "His name is John
and he used to be a professional wrestler. He's worked security for a bunch of people. You'll like him. He's already
got you set up. And don't worry about the money. We'll
have you temporarily set up at the Luxor until John can
find some other digs for you in another part of the city."

The Luxor?"

"Yeah." William had grinned. "Hey, it's the best I could
do under short notice. It was either that or some fleabag
piece-of-shit hotel off the strip where there's no security.
John's hooked up with the security at the Luxor, and he's
gonna have them keeping an eye on things. Thist me."
He'd clapped Brad on the shoulder. "You'll be under not
only tight protection, but well-armed, twenty-four-hour
protection. Know what I mean?"

The flight had been short. Lisa had dozed, and when
they arrived in Las Vegas he had helped her out of her
seat and escorted her down the walkway. Their contact,
John Panozzo, was waiting for them. He'd recognized
Brad, nodded, then approached them casually. "Got a car
waiting outside," he'd said. John was in his mid-forties,
with an olive complexion, long black hair, and a black
goatee. He was about six feet tall, probably tipped the
scales at two-fifty, and his fingers bore silver rings with
skulls and bats on them.

John didn't talk much on the drive to the Luxor, but
then Brad and Lisa hadn't been in the mood for conversation. John drove them to the strip in a Ford Explorer.
When they reached the massive hotel and casino, he led
them past the lobby to the elevators. Lisa temporarily
snapped out of her dazed expression and looked around at the dazzling lights and explosions of activity at the
casino. "Got you a room in the pyramid itself," John said
as he ushered them into an elevator. "You're registered
under the names of Brian and Katherine Hopkins. You're
in room twenty-seven twenty-seven. Everything's all
taken care of. If you want to leave your room and walk
around the casino, press this button and dial star nine
eight" He'd handed Brad a cellular phone." hat will get
you directly to me or a member of my staff. We won't be
hanging all over you, but we will be watching you quietly
in the background. I'd suggest that you lay low the first
day you're here, though, just to play it safe and until I
hear from Billy."

They'd crashed almost immediately upon arriving at
the hotel. Brad had made a quick call to his parents to
tell them where they were, and had spoken to his father.
"We're at the Luxor," he'd said, quickly giving him the
room number. "Billy's got us hooked up here and we're
safe. He's got a bodyguard looking after us, and I don't
know how long we'll be here" Naturally, his father was
worried, and his mother had come on the line and begun asking him a lot of questions. "I can't talk too much
about it right now," he'd said. "Look, I'll try to call you tomorrow, okay?" Then he'd placed a call to Lisa's parents
and given them the same brief message, giving them the
same information on where they were staying before
hanging up and going to bed for a mostly sleepless night.

Brad stood in front of the window, looking out at the
Las Vegas morning. This was the weirdest hotel room he'd
ever been in. Being in the pyramid of the Luxor meant
that one side of the room slanted upward at a forty-fivedegree angle. That side of the room was composed almost entirely of windows. Such an angle made it nearly
impossible for anybody outside to see their suite. The interior of the room was decorated with hieroglyphics; they ran along the walls and doorways, were imprinted
on the tiled floor of the large bathroom. The bed sat
along one wall in the middle of the room. The carpet was
light beige and felt deep under his bare feet. In short, he
and Lisa were hiding out in relative luxury.

Lisa yawned and sat up in bed. Her eyes blinked open,
puffy in sleep. Brad smiled and went to the bed. "Hey, he
said, sitting down beside her. "How ya feeling?"

'tired,"
she
said,
yawning.
She
had
slipped
into
a
pair
of boxer shorts and a tank top and tumbled into bed the
minute they'd entered the room.

"Want some coffee?"

"Yeah." She looked around groggily. 'First I need a
shower. I probably stink."

"You go for it. Want some breakfast?"

"Yeah "'Ihe mention of the word'breakfast" perked her
up. She stopped on her way to the bathroom and looked
back at him. "Gimme some French toast and scrambled
eggs.'

"FYench toast and scrambled eggs it is."-

Lisa went into the bathroom and Brad picked up the
phone and ordered a pot of coffee, French toast and
scrambled eggs for Lisa, and pancakes and eggs overeasy for him. As an afterthought, he also ordered orange
juice. By the time he was finished, the shower had already started. As well as Lisa's crying.