"Ok," Rick began. "Death Row is about 3 hours from here in the opposite direction from Haddonfield so it'll be a long drive. Dr Loomis insisted on giving us a driver, just in case I can't after… you know, seeing it."

"That was in fact a lie," Dr Loomis interjected. "I've actually arranged for you to fly there. James will meet you at the airport at 11."

"Seriously?" Rick and Danielle said in unison. "That must be costing Smith's Grove a fortune," she finished.

"Seriously," Dr Loomis confirmed.

"Wo, um thanks," Rick said. "Ok so that… changes things somewhat. The flight will take about ninety minutes I reckon so we'll land just after 01:30PM give or take if we're taking off by 11:30. That will give us time to get something to eat if you want before heading to the prison. When we get there, we'll both be thoroughly searched of course and we have to leave all electronic devices in the car. I take it a driver's meeting us at the airport?" He asked Dr Loomis.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "That part about the driver is true."

"Ok, from the airport it's about another hour's drive to the prison, which will work perfectly as we have to be there by 4PM." He turned to Michael. "Michael, can I borrow your phone a sec please?" Silently of course the killer handed it to him. They heard the soft beeping as Rick tapped keys. "Thanks," Rick said after a moment, handing it back. "My numbers in there now enabling me to text you if necessary and you'll recognise it's me. Please bear in mind there will be at least two hours of radio silence while… we're on Death Row." The killer nodded to the guard. "It's…" Rick paused. Even given who was involved, it was still an execution a man was dying. "Happening at 6PM, but they need time to security check us and so on."

She nodded. "Can I ask a couple of questions?"

"Of course, is that a question?" Rick chuckled. "It's your meeting remember?"

"I just wondered… does anyone know if… if I'll hear anything?"

"If Chancer has any last words to say you'll hear those," Dr Loomis said. "He'll speak through a microphone in the Death Chamber linked to the witness room. It's two way glass which means they can see him and he can see the witnesses."

"I mean," she swallowed. "From the… the chair?"

"Possibly," Rick said. "Electricity makes a humming sound when a generator is turned on so you may very well here that. I doubt you'll hear anything from Chancer himself, maybe the odd moan of fear just before it happens but that's doubtful. They normally turn the mikes off to stop witnesses hearing that stuff."

"I…" she hesitated. "I really, really don't want to sound like a bitch, but is there any way you could give me a… a signal when…"

"The electrocution starts?" Rick's voice carried no hint of judgement or dislike. "Of course, I'll squeeze your hand how's that?"

"Thanks," she smiled at him. "After what he did to me I want to know when that switch is pulled! I'm sorry, but I do!"

"Understandable, yup I'll squeeze your hand once."

"Does anyone know how long it typically takes? The execution itself?"

"It… depends," Dr Loomis said delicately, "on quite a few factors. The size of the condemned, whether everything is attached properly and so on. I take it you know how the electric chair works?"

She nodded. "Yes. Call me weird but I've always been fascinated with the death penalty. I've done a lot of research on it. I know he'll be strapped in, wear a skull cap and his leg and head will be shaved to enable the current to go into his brain easier and faster."

"Correct," Dr Loomis said. "You may smell smoke afterwards, again they try to minimalize that but sometimes things happen."

"When the curtain opens between the witness room and the Death Chamber he'll already be strapped in, right?"

"Yes," Joanne confirmed. "They don't allow witnesses to see that part. He'll be alone in the room apart from the prison Chaplin. He's the only one who's allowed to be with Chancer at the end."

"After the execution is complete," Rick continued. "They will announce the time of death over the microphones. The guards will then come in and let us out. We should be back at the car… all being well by 06:45 at the latest. We'll then go back to the airport and fly back. We should be back here by what… 10PM at the most."

"Ok," she nodded. It all sounded relatively straight forward, she just hoped it would go that simply when the time actually came.

Eight hours to execution:

"Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…"

Derek Chancer had never considered himself a praying man it had never been part of his life. But as Father Fletcher continued to drone out the Lord's prayer, he found himself joining in. Hell, pun intended, what else did he have left? As the clock ticked relentlessly and mercilessly onwards closer to his death, he found himself fighting off uncontrollable bouts of panic and terror which he didn't like at all. He'd always seen himself as being in control, in charge, one step ahead. But that doesn't tend to work when you're about to get fried in 'old sparky,' he thought. You have no control then at all except what you eat for your last meal. "Father," he said when the Chaplin was finished. "I'm scared!" Immediately he hated himself for having blurted out those two words but neither could he deny they were entirely true. He was fucking terrified, although he doubted Father Fletcher would appreciate them worded that way. Although could he blame him? He wasn't the one dying in just under eight hours' time after all.

"Which is perfectly understandable," Fletcher murmured. Derek was again reminded of his earlier thoughts. This bastard would probably cheer with the rest when he was pronounced dead! He was just doing his job. He resisted snapping back, after all as much as he hated it Fletcher was now his only comfort left. "I tell you Derek, you need to give yourself entirely to Jesus, let him comfort you in your last hours and when he takes you home to eternity."

At this Derek couldn't help but laugh, although it came out as a high terrified hysterical one. "Jesus ain't got time for men like me," he almost shouted. "Jesus doesn't love women rapists and killers father! Jesus will probably laugh as I enter hell!"

"Jesus loves us all," Fletcher said. "You just have to repent and accept he died for you and you will have eternal life through his sacrifice, Derek."

Derek snorted; he couldn't stop himself. "Yeah right, what sacrifice is that? He's not the one getting fucking fried tonight is he? Or have I missed something? Is he up after me?" Fletcher ignored his flippant words as Derek had suspected he would. Hell he'd probably heard them a thousand times from other now dead inmates during their last hours on earth.

"No, Derek." The Chaplin's voice was still as gentle and patient as it had been since 8 that morning. Derek was certain very little would change that. God only knew, yes God, how much training he must've had to do this job. Had he cried after his first execution? Derek wondered. "Or had he just gone home as though he'd just seen someone walk out of a door as opposed to out of this world? He would of course never know the answers to these questions but that didn't stop him wondering. "He died for you on the cross of Calvary, so that we could all be forgiven and have eternal life through his sacrifice. He took all our sin to the cross with him."

It took everything Derek had not to roll his eyes. What a load of total and complete bullshit! Did people really believe this? Were they really that stupid? He forced himself to listen, reminding himself that he didn't have much left to gamble on at this point. What Fletcher was offering him sounded like crap but he was out of options. "What?" He tried his utmost not to laugh hysterically again. If he did, he worried he would completely lose control and have a full on panic attack. "you're telling me some dude nailed himself to a cross so… what? We could… live? That makes no sense! One guy dies, so we all live for ever and ever?"

"Not 'some dude,' Derek." Derek could almost hear Fletcher's distaste for his wording. "Jesus Christ of Nazareth was the son of God! Have you never heard any of this before?"

At this Derek clapped a hand to his mouth to stop himself laughing. "Are you joking Father? My mother was not religious in the slightest! She killed her first boyfriend and is now dead because of it!"

"I know Derek," Fletcher said in his gentle voice. Derek was beginning to heartily wish Fletcher would stop using his damn name at the beginning of every sentence! "But how about at school?"

Now he did laugh, he couldn't help himself. "I skipped religious education, I thought it was a bunch of complete and total bullshit!" Of course if I'd known then where I'd end up, he thought. I might have paid a little more attention!

"Is that what caused your violence? Your mother's actions?"

"Ha," Derek snorted. "No Father. I hate women, always have done ever since my father ran off with some cunt and broke mom's heart. They're witches, bitches, all of them. They deserved to die!" He was surprised Fletcher didn't wince at his language. He was clearly stronger than Derek gave him credit for. Mind he was probably used to that too.

"So you committed your crimes out of anger for all women because of one's actions? A little unfair, don't you think?"

Derek shrugged. He wanted to tell Fletcher not to preach to him but… to be honest he had no fight left. Hardly surprising yes. But… "Cunts deserved what they got," he muttered.

"All of them?"

"Yes fucking all of them! They deserved to get fucked and killed! I would've given anything to do the same to the cunt who took my father."

"Have you considered your father and this woman may have really fallen in love? That happens, Derek."

"Fuck love," he growled. "My mother was everything to me and should have been to him too! Couldn't wait to get his cock out of his pants could he?" As he said this, he reflected like father like son. Considering he too had been turned on by the thought of fucking countless women but he pushed that thought away. He'd been single. His father had no God damn right to break his mother's heart in two the way he had.

"But these type of thoughts never end well, Derek." This time Derek had to resist the urge to punch Fletcher. Stop. Using. My. Fucking. Name. Every. Five. Seconds. Damn. You! But of course he knew he couldn't. Purely because the thought of his final hours alone in solitary would drive him insane. Although maybe that would be a good thing. If he went to the chair a blabbering wreck maybe he'd be none the wiser as he died. "After all," Fletcher continued totally unruffled. "Look at your mother. She killed a man in retaliation and got killed when she came out of prison."

"I fucking know that thanks," he growled, unable to stop himself.

"I apologise, Derek. But it just emphasises what I am telling you. You both died for killing the opposite sex."

"I'm not fucking dead yet," this time he almost snarled the words and had to physically fight the urge to stand up and attack this fucking smug twat! But there were too many guards and he was shackled. He desperately tried to fight off his anger. Think of mom, think of mom. Miraculously it worked somewhat.

"Indeed you are not," Fletcher agreed. "But we have to be realistic, Derek. You are in your final hours and I am trying to help you after they are over."

"Help me out by getting me a fucking permanent stay," he muttered. "Maybe then I'll believe in this Jesus guy!" Of course Fletcher ignored this too. For the next fifteen minutes, Derek listened numbly as Fletcher told him all about the bible, Christ and the cross. The words seemed to go over his head though, he couldn't take them in. Sure he wanted some comfort, but his idea of comfort was a stay of execution followed by a pardon! Life in prison would be better than this, just as he'd told Thompson when he'd first arrived on Death Row. He didn't want to die yet; he wasn't ready for it! But it seemed something… or someone out there had other plans for Derek Chancer's future, or rather his afterlife.

Danielle stood up with Rick at 10:40AM to get changed and leave for the airport. Nigel hugged her and shook hands with Rick. "Take care," he said, echoing Michael's words. "Both of you, ok?"

"Got it," Rick smiled at him and took Danielle's arm. "We ready kid?"

"Yes Sir," she mock saluted.

"Knock it off," he poked her arm but was laughing. She could hardly believe it. She'd been able to say 'sir' as a joke an impossibility just weeks before. "Now I just want to say this once too," Rick said as she opened the conference room doors. "If at any point you're unsure or you change your mind right up until we enter the witness room, you only have to tell me and a guard will take care of you until I come out. Ok?"

"Got it," she smiled at him. "Understood."

Before she knew quite what was happening they were at the airport, shaking hands with James and climbing into the private plane. She was touched beyond words when the pilot asked her how Charlotte was doing. "She's still in a coma, but thank you so much for remembering and asking. I'll ask Dr Loomis to keep you updated."

"Give my best to her family," James said as he checked the plane before returning to the cockpit for take-off." "You got it, thanks James."

"Enjoy the flight guys." As the plane began to move along the runway and slowly gather speed, Danielle sat back in her seat thinking about the day ahead. She stood by what she'd said in that conference room, she hoped Derek Chancer felt every second of his death. If she had her way she'd execute him forty-two times one for each victim and maybe another two for her and Rick too.

"You ok?" Rick asked quietly, clearly detecting her thoughts. She told him what she'd been thinking and he chuckled. "I don't think you're alone there." She was surprised but couldn't deny a little reassured when she realised Rick was wearing all his protective equipment including his firearm. "Why?" She asked, unsure how she felt about having an armed guard beside her. She saw him as a friend, not a guard. Again as if detecting her thoughts, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Hey I'm with you as your friend not guard," he assured. "I've just been asked to carry all my stuff because I am a trained guard, just in case anything… kicks off if there is any trouble. If there is though, my first priority will be your safety. I promise it has nothing to do with you."

"You sure?" She joked. "Keeping me out of trouble and all that?"

"Well now you mention it…" She lightly punched his shoulder, before removing his handcuffs from their pouch. The fact he made no move to stop her just proved both what he'd just said and the fact to him this was just his uniform. They were two friends, not guard and patient. "Should I be worried?" He quipped as Danielle felt the heavy metal, opening and closing the jaws with quiet clicks.

"No thanks, I'm not into that sort of stuff, plus I think Michael would kill me, um, literally!"

He laughed. "Very true."

"Danielle, Rick," James' voice came over the intercom. "Please fasten your seatbelts in preparation for take-off, also pay close attention to the safety briefing video I'm about to show you. Thank you."

She raised an eyebrow. "He showed us that live last time?"

"I guess he just uses the video if there's very few of us or he wants to get us moving. Obviously we need to be on time today."

"True," she agreed. This time she was able to pay real attention to the safety briefing, although she knew most of it from having flown a couple of times before in her life. She remembered one holiday to Europe with her parents which had been an absolute disaster. Her brother got spoilt rotten and she was left in a corner as the little blind person, people spoke about her instead of to her. She hoped never to repeat the experience, but knew with the Avery's she never would again. She told Rick about it as they finally took off into the morning sky and he tutted sympathetically. Unlike months before when she would have immediately considered it patronising, now she was genuinely grateful to him for it. She'd text Michael just before they got on the aircraft.

Just about to board the plane now. I love you, Michael.

His reply had come just before she'd had to turn her phone off.

I love you too, Danielle. Take care and please stay safe. M.

Now as the plane flew onwards she smiled to herself. Yes she was perfectly safe this was true, but Derek Chancer most certainly was not. She wondered how his final few hours were going, whether he'd eventually right at the end apologise for his crimes during his final words. Somehow she doubted it. Men like Derek Chancer never surrendered or apologised, they took that with them to the grave. Maybe she would be proved wrong that evening, but wasn't holding out much hope for it. She knew a lot of Chancer's victim's families were going to be there and her heart almost broke with sympathy for them. They were finally getting the closure they should've had years ago. How had Dr Loomis not known right at the start Derek Chancer was beyond treatment? She said the same about him as she did regarding Greggory. Men like him could not be rehabilitated; they were destined for 'old sparky' from the moment they were caught. She supposed Dr Loomis had to try but to her it made no sense. If Chancer had ever been released he would've raped and killed again, of this Danielle was certain. She might even have been his next target. One down, she thought. Chancer was heading for 'old sparky' in front of her eyes that very evening, maybe soon it would be Greggory's turn. One to go.