CHAPTER 5: KILLER.
Grand Mesa National Forest, Gunnison County, Colorado. October 14th, 2004.
The helicopter was flying low over the trees. On the co-pilot seat, Sheriff Eddie Morales looked down for any sign of Sam or Buddy Benson, and by extension, Deputy Adams.
When Ray hadn't arrived at the police station that morning, Eddie decided to call him home, thinking he must be sleeping after extending his search until very late.
-"Ray?" It was Carrie who responded the phone.
-"Good morning Carrie," Eddie greeted, "could you put me through to Ray?"
-"What? No," Morales noted the woman's alarmed tone, "I thought he was with you. I called his cell phone, but he didn't answer..."
-"Carrie...calm down," Eddie tried to reassure her. "Ray's been working really hard on this, he probably slept in the vehicle. You know the signal out there is-"
Now he was the one who was worrying. There were two people missing, and evidence of a crime. The situation was getting tense and it was something he didn't like.
-"He always calls, Eddie." Carrie said.
-"Listen, we'll go out in the helicopter, sure he'll show up covered in mud, with Buddy and Sam behind him." Eddie tried to sound optimistic, but it wasn't convincing enough. "I'll keep you updated," he said before hanging up.
Now they were flying over the area he had seen the previous afternoon, away from the main road, but it was one of the areas they hadn't searched on foot.
-"There," Eddie indicated to an area devoid of trees, "that wasn't here before," There was a low, water-covered depression in the center of the clearing.
Eddie motioned for the pilot to get down, and he turned the stick. The helicopter turned around and settled at the edge of the water. After a few seconds, the Sheriff descended, followed by Joe Wallace and another officer.
-"Do you know if anyone has cattle nearby?" He asked Wallace, who shook his head and wiped the mud off his boot. Eddie signaled to the pilot not to kill the engine. The man nodded and Eddie headed for the edge of the trees. There were no roads or cattle tracks, not even the usual animal footprints.
-"Sheriff!" Joe yelled at his back, "this way!"
Eddie walked over to the spot, Joe looking at something on the muddy ground. It was a boot print in the dried mud. He recognized it, it was Ray's shoe.
-Ray! he yelled. Judging by the dried mud, the sheriff's deputy had passed by. He decided to follow the trail for a bit. "Ray! Answer!" No answer reached his ears.
A moment of realization came to his mind. The cell phone signal was very bad, but Ray had his radio. Eddie unhooked the device from his belt and pressed the button. "Ray, do you hear me? Over." An electronic echo reached his ears, it seemed to come from a few meters ahead. Eddie called again as he walked deeper into the woods. "Ray? Are you there?" The echo repeated itself, this time closer.
A few steps ahead, Morales spotted something on the ground covered in pine needles. Ray's radio was there, still attached to his belt. "Ray?!" Eddie insisted, this time yelling at the top of his lungs. A drop fell on his forehead and slipped in the direction of his left eye. Before he reached into the socket, Morales wiped it clean with his index finger. The Sheriff's eyes widened as he realized that was blood.
Very slowly, Eddie looked up. High above, in the top of a tree, was Ray... or so Morales assumed. His body was dangling by its feet from a branch, a swarm of flies buzzing around the exposed chest cavity. Eddie watched in horror as the body of his friend had been flayed and skinned.
-"Santa madre de dios," he exclaimed. Deputy Wallace briefly covered his mouth before vomiting on the forest floor. Suddenly, all hope of finding Sam and Buddy alive was dashed in an instant.
-"Central? Over." He radioed again.
-"Central here," answered a woman's voice. "Did you find anything? This is crazy, Morales. I have five more missing persons reports here-"
-"We have a more serious problem." Morales cut the operator off in a serious tone.
All the way back to town, Morales did not say a single word. He just looked at the black bag strapped to the gurney next to him. Joe Wallace was now in the passenger seat, pale as a ghost and staring straight ahead.
Upon landing at the Crested Butte Medical Center helipad, a Gunisson County Sheriff's van was already waiting for them, along with a coroner's vehicle to take them to the station. There, Dr. Lennon, the chief of medicine at Crested Butte Medical Center would examine the body on the station's morgue. The reason for doing it there was to prevent the clinic staff and patients in general from witnessing a horrible scene.
The convoy passed through the intersection of Houston street, and to the right, Watercrest street. Through the window, Eddie saw how a few of the passers-by looked nervously at the trucks. They were going to have questions, he knew that very well, but Morales had to know what happened to Officer Adams and who was to blame, before facing the inhabitants of the quiet town.
- o -
Ricky took off his shirt and tossed it on the passenger seat of the truck. He was running late for work, Drew would make his day hell if he was late one more time. He saw the yellow and red Pizza One hat, but left it on the seat. He would only wear it at work and when Drew was watching.
-"Damn!" he exclaimed, looking at the clock. He took the shirt from the pizza parlor and struggled to put it on.
Across the street and walking in his direction, he saw Jesse and his boyfriend, Dale, accompanied by Jesse's inseparable cronies, Mark and Nick. Dale was holding his phone, Nick was throwing a football at Mark.
Ricky ducked instinctively, not wanting Jesse to see him getting dressed in the car, least of all with idiot Dale Collins there. He would wait for them to pass, even if that meant being five minutes late. Putting up with Drew's speeches was better than seeing Dale's face.
-"Dale, record this," Nick told Dale, crossing the street and getting ready to throw a long pass at Mark. Dale took the phone from him.
Just as Nick threw the ball, the sheriff's SUV, followed by a coroner's van sped down Main Street. Dale was momentarily distracted and the ball hit him, causing him to drop the phone. Which fell through the sewer grate where he was standing. "Dammit!" Dale cursed.
Ricky chuckled from his truck. Karma is a bitch, isn't it? , he thought. Dale was furious, pacing like a caged lion and growling at Nick.
-"I'm sorry, man," Nick apologized.
-"I'm sorry?" Dale repeated, "Sorry? It's my damn phone. You better get it back."
-"There it is," Nick said, peering through the grate. The phone had fallen between some pipes, but its situation was precarious. "You just have to put your hand in."
Dale glared at him. "I'm not going to stick my hand in there," he hissed at him, "you will." He pushed it away with both hands.
-"Hey, calm down friend." Nick demanded. "I will," he reached down to put his hand in, but the grid on him was too tight. "Doesn't fit."
Dale snorted. "Well, I'm not going to leave it there." He looked around until he found what he was looking for. Ricky saw a boy about 10 years old, playing on the sidewalk.
-"Hey kid!" Dale called out to him. "Come here. Can you get my phone out of there?" he said, pointing to the grate on the floor.
Jesse approached her boyfriend. "Leave him alone, Dale." He glared at her, holding back his fury, and then turned back to the boy, all smiles.
Curtis looked uncertain, alternating stares between the boys and his sister. Those boys were always doing mischief, but his father had told him and Kendra that they had to help the neighbors. He agreed.
Curtis walked to the drain and crouched down, and put his hand between the metal bars. It wasn't enough.
-"You need to reach out more," Dale was telling him.
Curtis practically lay down on the rack and stretched out as far as he could, his fingers touching the phone. "I can't reach it," Curtis said, the grill grating on his cheek.
Something moved in the darkness of the sewer. Curtis winced, jerking his hand out so fast that he scratched his wrist on the rusted grate. The phone dangled on the pipe, about to fall into the murky water below.
-"Saw something down there," he said, one hand over the wound.
-"Probably a rat," Dale replied, ignoring the boy's pleas. "You're almost there, try again," and he pushed the boy gently back down.
-"Leave him alone." Jesse intervened, leaning toward Curtis. She helped the boy up again, staring at his wrist. The wound was not serious, but it was somewhat deep. A 15-year-old girl came running up.
-"Curtis! What happened?" she said, looking at the boy's hand.
-"Take him to be attended to." Jesse advised her, then turned to her boyfriend. "What's wrong with you?!" Jesse yelled, pushing Dale back.
His response was immediate, Dale grabbed her by the back of her shirt and practically lifted her up. "Stay out of it," he said threateningly.
Ricky, who had seen the scene, got out of the truck and ran towards it. "Hey! Leave her alone, asshole," and he threw the first blow at Dale's face, sending him stumbling.
Dale wiped the trickle of blood from his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes bloodshot as he charged.
Curtis stood up from the rack, "Got it," he said, holding out the phone, but Jesse pushed him away just in time. Ricky and Dale fell where he had been, locked in the fight like a pair of alley cats.
-"Stop!" Jesse yelled, to no effect.
Dale managed to wriggle out of the attack and cornered Ricky, getting on top of him. He took hold of his shirt collar and raised a fist, ready to slam it into his face. Ricky closed his eyes, waiting for the blow that never came.
Dale found himself lifted and thrown to the ground. He turned his head to see his attacker and growled. Dallas was standing there. "Any problem?" he asked him seriously.
Dale spat to the side. "No," he responded. He got up from the ground and joined his friends. Dallas followed him with his eyes. "Come on…Jesse?" he addressed the girl, but she did not move. Dale and his cronies walked away.
Ricky got up from the ground shaking. "I don't need your help," he protested, removing the hand his brother held out to him.
-"You're grounded," Dallas said firmly.
-"Fuck you," Ricky cast a gesture, walking back to the truck.
-"Hey! Hey!" Dallas caught his arm, forcing him to stop. "Do not turn away from me."
Ricky jerked free and continued on his way. "I don't owe you anything, I didn't ask you to spend three years in prison for me." Dallas stood there in silence. Ricky climbed into the cab and started the engine.
-"Hey," Jesse leaned out the driver's window. Ricky was startled.
-"Hey, J-jesse. H-hi." He responded stammering.
-"I want to thank you," the girl began, "for what you did. Dale is an idiot."
-"That idiot is your boyfriend."
-"Actually…" she hesitated, "Ex-boyfriend. I don't want to see him anymore."
Ricky rolled his eyes, trying to appear nonchalant. Actually, he would have clenched a fist in victory if Jesse hadn't been there.
-"I've seen the way you look at me." Jesse interrupted his thoughts. Ricky stared at her. "In class," she continued. "I've seen the way you look at me."
He quickly thought of an answer. "The clock."
-"What?" the girl asked.
-"In class..." Ricky repeated, "the clock is behind you."
-"I know it's there," she said with a suspicious look. "But we both know it's not what you're looking at."
Ricky blushed like a ripe tomato, he didn't mean to be caught out like that.
-"Do you want to go swimming tonight?" she asked. The question took him by surprise.
-"Where?" Ricky asked back.
-"The school, I left the door open this morning." Jesse said with a mischievous smile. "Ten o'clock" Then he turned around and left.
Ricky couldn't believe it. He watched her walk away from her, then started the truck's engine and pulled away, whistling and smiling all the way to work.
- o -
In the small morgue of the Sheriff's office. Eddie Morales looked at the white blanket that covered the body of his friend, which had been placed on a stainless steel plate. Behind him, Dr. Lennon removed his latex surgical gloves and tossed them into the biohazard bin. He washed his hands and turned to Eddie.
-"And?" The sheriff asked.
-"The cause of death," the doctor began with the preliminary report, "was two stab wounds to the abdomen. One went through his stomach and spleen, the other penetrated parallel to the next and almost split the liver in two.
Morales listened carefully.
-"Both wounds were made with an extremely sharp blade. Although," the doctor hesitated, "the precision of the cut, the curvature and depth suggests that they were made simultaneously." Morales frowned. "The killer had to use something with double blades, so..." The doctor used his index fingers on his own belly to further explain. "I had never seen anything like it."
Morales was stone faced. He couldn't believe that his friend was dead, and worse yet, that a ruthless killer was on the loose.
-"Whoever did this," the doctor said, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes. "He had the patience to strip the body, decapitate it and skin it. He couldn't have done it alone."
-"There were no footprints," he said, "not one. No vehicle tracks either. It's as if it had vanished into thin air."
-"You're in over your head, Eddie," Dr. Lennon studied the haunted look on Morales' face. "What are you going to do?" The question was as sobering as the horror.
-"I'll let you know when I figure it out," Morales said darkly, then added, "but first, we'll have to put a curfew on."
- o -
A/N: Welcome back. I hope you have enjoyed... A few part of this chapter actually made to the movie. Originally, in the script by Shane Salerno, the scene with Dale and Friends and confrontation were two separate scenes: On the first one, Dale and Ricky fight at school and then Dallas revealed he was sent to prison instead of Ricky. The second one was Dale making Molly reach for a ball in the sewer, with an alien almost grabbing Molly's arm. I merged both scenes here and changing Molly for another kid, Curtis, who was in fact present in a deleted scene along with his sister Kendra. Instead of the ball, I changed it to Dale's phone in order to piss him off and having him mistreating Jesse. Ricky would fight with him, revealing why Dallas was sent to prison in the process.