Dead by Dawn—A Short Story of Terror and Bloodshed Read online

  Lee walked behind Ed, as obedient as a Labrador following his master into the woods to search for game. He wanted to scream, to run away, to call out warnings to the people around him. But he couldn't make a sound. He couldn't run away. He couldn't even concentrate on anything other than the rifle in Ed's hands.

  He could smell the smoke that came from the rifle's barrel. He could smell his own sweat mixed with his deodorant. He could smell freshly mowed grass. Behind him, people yelled and screamed. A man was shouting profanities as a dog barked maniacally.

  Ed ignored all sounds from behind and continued walking forward. Suddenly, he stopped and Lee sucked in a breath. A red car approached slowly, as if the person driving was lost and pondering their surroundings. Ed raised his rifle and the car braked to a sudden stop. Lee saw two female faces, their mouths open in stunned surprise. The woman in the passenger seat grabbed the sides of her face and appeared to be screaming. The woman driving simply stared at Ed, apparently in shock. The rifle bucked in Ed's hands as he fired and the side mirror on the driver's side flew off the car. The driver shifted the gears and threw the car into reverse, the car squealing loudly. Ed fired three more times then lowered his rifle.

  That's when Lee heard the sirens.

  Over. It was over.

  He felt like slumping to the ground in relief and wondered if he was going to faint. He knew only minutes had passed since Ed began his shooting spree, but 14 people had been shot and one killed. It felt like this situation had been going on for at least an hour.

  Lee and Ed watched the red car backing up, heading for the main road. As it swerved, its tires squealing, a police car arrived and screeched to a halt. Lee cheered in his mind as Ed cursed loudly. Lee's elation quickly died as the police officer got out of his vehicle and ran towards the red car. Hadn't someone told him that a madman was running around with a gun?

  Ed raised his rifle and began to shoot.

  ***

  It happened again. The spacey feeling took over Lee and he retreated into a world where he could watch all this happening without being in the centre of it. The policeman's face was almost comical when he realised bullets were flying in his direction. Either he was fairly new to the force, or his survival instincts were numbed by shock. The first bullet pounded into the red car, mere feet from him, and he simply stopped and stared at the hole the bullet created in the metal.

  Run! Lee thought. Just run, you idiot.

  Yet, the officer remained standing where he was. He made an easy target. The side of his head exploded as a bullet pounded into his left temple and he fell to the ground.

  A policeman. Ed just shot a policeman.

  Though the situation had been serious before, now it was dire. Ed had killed a police officer with Lee standing by his side. Would he be classed as an accomplice to this crime? Would the police believe his innocence as one of their own lay bleeding in the street? Lee knew the police would treat this situation as deathly serious, but now that one of their own lay dead in the street, they would now take this personally.

  Commotion ensued on the street ahead. Cars screeched as brakes were stomped on; women screamed and men shouted; a dog squealed; a car alarm wailed. The hysterical screech of a young woman reached a pitch as a brave, or stupid, young man rushed to the fallen police officer and tried to drag him behind the red car. Lee cringed, bracing himself for the gunshots he felt sure would rain down on the would-be hero. Ed simply watched, a confused frown on his face. “What does this dude think he can do,” Ed asked, sounding amused, “stuff the brains back into the pig's head?”

  Nausea assaulted Lee once again, and he fought the urge to pass out. Further sirens wailed as they approached and Lee prayed that Ed would throw down his rifle and surrender.

  But Ed was not finished.

  He shouldered his rifle and began walking towards a house on the left. Lee considered trying to run, but he knew Ed would shoot him in the back the second he tried. He'd seen first hand what Ed was capable of, and, in spite of the trauma he knew would remain with him for the rest of his life, Lee still wanted to live.

  Ed glanced behind him, watching Lee. He tightened his grip around the rifle and raised his eyebrows. “Wanna try it, Lee? I'll even give you a five second head start.”

  Feeling as though another part of his soul had just died, Lee lowered his head and followed. Ed reached the red front door and tugged on the handle.

  Unlocked.

  With one last glance at the road and the panicked crowd that had gathered, Ed entered the house. Lee followed, picturing the armed police who would soon swarm the area. This is the place where a stand-off between cops and psycho would take place―and Lee was caught in the middle. He was still hopeful, however, that he'd survive this, and his hope was the only thing keeping him from laying on the ground and curling up in the foetal position.

  His hope died upon following Ed inside the house. Lee froze, horrified and more frightened than ever. Toys littered the hallway that led to the left and a stair-gate blocked access to the stairs on the right.

  A child lives here.

  Ed kicked a stuffed animal and hesitated. He cocked his head to one side and appeared to be listening. Apart from the noise outside, Lee heard nothing from within the house. He wished with every fibre in his body that the house was empty. He looked down at the toys, dread stirring within his stomach. Numerous toy trucks were scattered on the floor, along with large Lego blocks and a couple of action figures.

  His body language told of a man still on the hunt, a man whose taste for blood had not yet been satiated. He was alert for any sounds within the house, sounds that told him of further victims awaiting a bullet.

  The surge of emotion that swamped Lee when he heard the sounds of weeping, both from a child and woman, was so powerful he almost fell to his knees. Ed stiffened, facing forward.

  “Ed. No.”

  Ignoring Lee's plea, Ed walked down the hallway, his head cocking this way and that, before he abruptly stopped. Hurrying after him, Lee stopped too. It was clear the sounds were coming from the under-stairs cupboard. The muffled sound of a child crying increased along with a horrified gasp from a woman. Ed stared at the closed door, his smile that of a predator that had found its prey. Lee's outcry mingled with the terrified scream of the woman as Ed yanked the cupboard door wide open and pointed his rifle inside.

  “God, no,” Lee moaned. The woman had squeezed herself in among hanging coats, cleaning utensils and tools. She huddled in fear and stared up at Ed, tears streaking down her cheeks as her grip on the small boy in her arms tightened. Ed smiled and stepped forward, pointing the muzzle of the gun within inches of the woman's face. Lee cried openly as the woman pressed the child's face into her neck, trying to prevent him from seeing the gun pointed so close to his tiny face. “Please,” she whimpered. “ Please don't hurt my baby.” The child's whimpers intensified as tremors shook the woman's body. She lowered her head and began to sob.

  Up to that moment, surviving had been Lee's biggest concern. He hadn't known throughout the whole ordeal whether Ed planned to kill him along with everyone else or not. Now, his biggest concern was this young mother and her child. The horrors he'd witnessed today would remain with him for the rest of his days―witnessing the slaying of a mother and her baby would haunt him into the next life. He stepped up close to Ed, who took his eyes off the cowering, sobbing woman and looked Lee right in the eye.

  “You won't hurt them, Ed,” Lee said through clenched teeth. “You'll have to kill me first.”

  And for a split second, Lee thought Ed would do just that. A dark cloud descended over Ed's eyes, giving the impression of huge pupils and a gaping void where his soul should reside. Sweat ran down Lee's back as the whole world seemed to stand still for endless seconds.

  “Get out,” Ed told the woman as he backed away slowly. Keeping the weapon on her, he didn't stop moving until his back touched the wall.

  Lee couldn't believe it. The woman raised her head and l
ooked at Ed with terror and distrust in her tear-filled eyes.

  “I said get out!” Ed yelled.

  “My baby.”

  “Take it with you. Go. Now!”

  The woman resembled a newborn foal as she struggled to her feet and stepped out of the cupboard. The child wailed and tightened his grip on his mother and in turn, she held him tighter. Turning so her back faced Ed and ensured a bullet would hit her and not her son, she sidestepped until she was far enough away from Ed and his rifle before she took off running down the hallway. Lee held his breath as he watched her, the child's face bouncing around with the sudden, jerky movements of his mother.These were the toys of a small child, not an older one that would be in school. Lee had never wished for something more than he did at that moment.

  Please let this house be empty. Please, don't let this child be here.

  Meanwhile, Ed had lifted the rifle from his shoulders and was clutching it in his hands once again. Ed's rifle was still trained on her, his finger poised over the trigger.

  When she reached her front door, Ed stiffened, his jaw clenching. Lee's mind ran a mental film of the people he'd seen shot down this afternoon. He didn't know if his memories would ever fade, if his traumatised mind would allow him the luxury of blanking out the terrible memories. He knew one thing for sure: never would he be able to forget the shooting of a young mother as she clutched her child tightly in her arms. He felt paralysed with fear as the woman pulled her front door open and rushed out, a high-pitched squeal of fear leaving her and mingling with the sobs of her son. The street beyond the door was a scene of chaos and panic: police cars pulled up, their tyres squealing on the pavement; a small crowd of panicked people hurried back and forth, their expressions of horror now aimed at the young woman fleeing from the house with a small child in her arms.

  "Go and close the door," Ed ordered, gesturing with his rifle.

  Again, Lee considered running. Two policemen had rushed to the young woman, their faces twisted with shock and concern. One policeman wrapped his arm around the young woman's shoulders and hurried away while the other turned and made eye contact with Lee.

  All thoughts Lee had of running disappeared.

  The cop was furious, enraged. It seemed as if the man's professionalism and training were leaving the area with the woman and her son — he looked as though he were considering taking Lee apart with his bare hands.

  Lee slammed the front door shut and rested his head against it, a feeling of complete despair crashing over him. They thought he was involved, that he was partly responsible for the dead and wounded that littered the street. He felt like there was no way out for him.

  He was doomed.

  "Let's go and sit down," Ed said from behind him. "Let's see how much longer we can drag this out for."

  Lee remained where he was, his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to prevent the hot tears from falling.

  "Now!"

  Ed's shout startled Lee and he turned around. Upon seeing the rifle pointed at him, accompanied by a cruel, humourless smirk from Ed, Lee became angry. All the feeling of terror and hopelessness, despair and horror, snowballed together, turning into an entangled mass of rage.

  Whether he survived or not, his life was ruined. He may be able to prove his innocence today, but that wouldn't help to remove the memories. The horror he'd witnessed today would haunt him till the day he died and the knowledge of this overwhelmed his desire to live.

  "They'll smoke us out," Lee said, clenching his fists. "Rubber bullets, gas bombs, tear gas— whatever they have to do to get you."

  "And risk your life?" Ed shrugged. "As far as they know, you're my hostage."

  "Or, I'm your partner. This is over, Ed. I'm leaving."

  Ed lowered his rifle, and smiled. The smile was mean, cruel. It sent chills down Lee's spine.

  "You could be right about them thinking you're in on this. It all depends on whether they've found the first victims."

  Lee frowned as Ed's smile grew wider.

  "45 Maple Street," Ed said, and Lee's vision swam. He remembered opening the door to Ed at the start of this nightmare. The blood splatter on his clothes. This meant...

  "You shouldn't feel too torn up over it," Ed said. "After all, they weren't your real parents. They signed a few forms and took you home. Of course, you only found out yesterday. Rough couple of days for you, eh?"

  The tears Lee had fought to keep inside now flowed like a burst dam. His parents were dead? Sure, he'd been angry with them for keeping this from him his whole life. Yesterday, he'd stormed from their house, hurt and furious. He went straight to work for his night shift and hadn't called them to talk things over. The last time he'd seen them, his mother was hunched over, sobbing into her hands as his father consoled her, looking just as upset as she was. Lee's last words to his parents were 'you liars '. He pictured their bullet ridden bodies and swayed.

  "Your fake dad didn't even fight me, he just took the first bullet in his chest and fell. He twitched as I shot him several more times, but that's it."

  "No," Lee mumbled. He grabbed the sides of his head as he pictured his father, the pain and fear he must have felt.

  “Your fake mother, however, well, she was far more interesting. Her first bullet was in the back as she tried to run from me."

  "Stop it!" Lee shouted, still holding the sides of his head.

  "She screamed so loud I thought she was gonna frazzle her vocal chords. I shot her 11 times. She took longer to die."

  Lee's fragile mind crumbled. He yanked the door open and ran, ran from Ed's words and the images they created in his mind. Ed's laughter followed him as he sprinted from the house and panicked shouts erupted from the crowd in front of him. Lee was aware of police officers tackling him and knocking him to the ground before darkness seized him completely and he passed out.

  ***

  Lee's eyes were swollen and itchy from the many tears he'd shed and he pulled the blanket given to him by the detectives tighter around his shoulders. He was entering his third hour of questioning and after listening to his story and taking notes, the two detectives had left the room. They wouldn't tell him whether they'd caught Ed or not, but Lee couldn't see how they hadn't. There'd be many witnesses to verify he'd had no weapon and hadn't hurt anybody. Plus, the woman who'd been traumatised in her home with her son in her arms should have told her story by now.

  Still, Lee worried. A police officer had lost his life in the line of duty. If the police felt Lee was to blame in any way, they'd do their best to take him down.

  Of the two detectives questioning him, Lee was confident of only one being on his side. He spoke with sympathy as the other glared at him with undisguised contempt.

  Lee shivered again and lowered his head, weary and defeated. All he wanted to do, was sleep. Though the horror of the day remained with him, as it would forever, he also felt a strange numbness of his senses. He felt detached from reality and closed off from his own feelings. With his head bowed and the blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, he knew he painted a pretty pathetic picture for a suspected accomplice to mass murder. He imagined his parents, dead and bloody, shot down by a madman in their own home, and his sense of detachment and numbness slipped. Grief clutched him so fiercely that he gasped as his shoulders shook with the force of his sobs.

  This is how the detectives found him when they re-entered the interrogation room. Lee wouldn't have believed that his situation could become any more horrifying.

  He was wrong.

  The detective whom Lee believed was on his side began asking questions, the same questions that Lee had already answered. When they reached the point where he and Ed had entered the young mother's house, Lee became angry. "I've already told you what happened! Why don't you go and ask Ed? He'll tell you the same damn thing!"

  "And what makes you think Ed will want to talk to us?" The other detective asked this question, who, up until now, had remained silent.

  "The sicko wants fame for this.
He'll tell you everything you want to know, in detail."

  "And he told you this?" The same detective asked. He seemed to have assumed the lead now as the other detective listened quietly.

  "Yes. He wants his name known, for everyone to know him and fear him because of what he's done."

  "And what's his name again?"

  Lee sat back and frowned at both detectives. "What do you mean: what's his name? Ask him! You must have caught him, he was right there in that damn house!"

  The detectives shared a look and the sympathetic one nodded.

  "Tell me again, Lee, what was Ed wearing?" sympathetic detective asked. Lee frowned again and lowered his head. Staring at the table, he said: "like I told you before — he was wearing a green T-shirt, camouflage trousers, and army style boots." Frustrated, he raised his head and looked at both officers.