Author's Note: A big smile for those reading this story and a big hug for all those who reviewed the previous chapter. Thank you. It took me a long time to write this chapter,even though its a short one. I had to cut and rewrite lots of stuff. I didn't want to make it too long, confusing or boring. Hope you'll enjoy it.
Chapter 7
Can this be? All that hope we had…to find her alive… was it all for nothing?
"What's wrong Nick?" Warrick's voice sounded foggy, like the way it did when Nick was in the glass coffin. Nick turned to face him, pointing the photo towards Warrick's direction. The photo that used to inspire hope now fills his heart with dread. He can't bear to look at it.
No, no, no…"Sara?" Warrick looked at the photo and then towards the chair. The room was still dim. The only sources of light were from the lighted candle and the flashlights they were holding. The orange glow from the fire caused the shadowed objects to dance around; their wild, unstoppable spasms moving around the black chair, their hands touching the limp arms of the decease. Warrick shone his light towards the chair, scaring them off into the dark corners of the room.
Sara… why is there a photo of Sara in this house?It was a candid shot of her. The photograph showed Sara walking across the car park, with her car keys in her hand. She was wearing her brown jacket over a black top and her dark pair of jeans, her scarf wrapped around her neck, keeping her warm. The picture was obviously taken at night. Nick looked at the date at the lower right hand corner of the photo. He recognized those numbers. The photo was taken on the same day that Nick and Sara were attacked. He looked took his eyes off the photo and looked towards the chair…
Blood. There's so much blood. Could anyone survive, losing that much blood?"Nick, we don't know if it's her." Warrick said, using his own words for Nick to calm himself down. "I'm going to turn the chair around. Nick. Nick! Do you hear me? It may not be her!"
We don't know if it's her… Sara… That can't be Sara. If it is…It's because of me--- my fault, my fault…"Nick! Snap out of it! I need you now!" Warrick grabbed Nick's thick, outer jacket and gave him a little shake. "I need you. The team needs you. Sara needs you! Do this for Sara…she may still alive."
Nick looked at Warrick in a daze before answering him. "Alright, I…I'm fine, I'm fine…" He took off his cap and scratched his head in desperate attempt to stimulate his brain. He wore his cap back on and placed the photo frame back onto the table. He didn't want to destroy the evidence by dropping it.
Just then, Brass and an officer walked towards them. "All clear, there's no one---"
Nick placed his index finger onto his lip, stopping Brass in the middle of this sentence. From where he was, Brass saw Warrick inching his way closer to the black chair while Nick was looking at the walls for any sign of a light switch. Brass instructed the officer next to him to stand his ground, both their hands on their guns.
Nick found the lights and switched it on just as Warrick turned the chair around…
Oh Gosh…
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It's the month of December. The temperature has hit an all time low in Las Vegas. The weather itself was enough to cause death to the homeless and the careless. He sat in his car, sucking the life out of a cigarette and soaking in the moonlight as he watched everyone; little bugs meandering through a network of buildings and high skyscrapers, oblivious to the fact that there are people like them dying every day, at every moment. And maybe… just maybe, today will be no different.
He drove pass the place where it all happened. Dwelling in the memories of that successful night. For a while now, he had managed to avoid the punishments of dumping the rejects and dodging the law that was suppose to keep them safe. For more than a year, he had what he needed; he didn't reject that one. But now… he needed them. He needed them to fix what he broke. If death comes, oh well…but once broken has been mended, he has plans to bring it back to hell.
They should be there by now, he thought as he drew in his last breath of poisonous fumes. I wondered whether they found the body yet. He threw his dead cigarette out of the car; driving back to wherever he calls a home.
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The body on the chair had no face. Her features were burnt beyond recognition, details melted together into a molten mess. The hair that made up her fringe had coiled and curled because of the heat, forming clumps of sticky brunette goo on her forehead. How did he manage to burn only her face? There were no other signs of burns anywhere else on her body. She did have a stab wound on her heart, indicating the cause of death. At least she died quickly…
Warrick recoiled in horror. He wasn't expecting to see anything like this. "Oh Gosh…" He whispered as he placed his hand on his forehead, still trying to process what he's seeing. He looked towards Nick's direction, trying to make sense of this tragedy. Nick's pale face had turned, if possible, unnaturally ghostly white. He looked as if he was about to pass out. The light switch was located at the corner of the room, a few feet from the door to its right. Nick was just at the right place to see the body in full view…
No... no way. Sara... are you Sara?
He placed his hand onto his mouth as he walked to the side of the table to get a better look. He walked with great caution, like as if he was walking on eggshells, trying not to break anything. As he inched towards the table, he heard the sound of a mini fan whirling. The sound came from under the heap of papers on the table. Nick looked at Warrick for a moment.
"Did you hear that?" Nick asked, trying to distract himself from looking towards the chair. Warrick took his eyes off the body and gave him a puzzled look.
"Yeah… What is that? — A computer?" He looked towards the table, trying to look for the source of the sound. He and Nick carefully shift through the papers that were scattered around, revealing a black laptop on the table. Both men took it out of the room, giving Brass and the office a chance to evaluate the scene. Once they were in the dinning room, they sat by the table and opened up the laptop. On the screen, it showed a black screensaver with a tiny box right in the middle.
Type in your password.
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He opened his black car door and looked up to stare at the starlit sky. The same stars from long ago stared back at him, habouring the secrets that he had kept to himself all this time. It was like they were watching his every move, threatening to tell others of his crimes on earth... to shout out what he did to the rejected ones... to the 3 kidnapped victims... to the 2 friends in the alley way... to the one person in the house in the middle of the desert far away from here...
Pancho... He hated that word. Why did she have to say that? In front of the one of the kidnapped victim no less. She had broke the rule that was set. She knew what will happen if she broke it. Was she testing his patience? Was she trying to be defiant? Does she really think that this "Pancho" could help her? Save her?
He had hurt her before but not this bad...It was her fault that he needed their help... she had put herself in that situation. It was her fault that she might die tonight.
Only time will tell...
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"What is the damn password?" Warrick said after his first attempt. The computer threatened to erase and corrupt all memory after its third try. He has tried Sara's name, thinking that since Sara's photo was on the table, the killer could have used her name as a password. Wrong move... Only 2 tries left.
Nick walked back into the room to look around for a possible clue. The walls were blank, the shelves were empty, and the papers on the table were filled with gibberish. The scene looked staged, like as if the killer was expecting them to show up, pulling them deeper and deeper into his mental, psychological game. "Damn." He said as he hit wall in pure defeat. He was about to walk out when a thought came to him, The last case that bother Sara was the newspaper article... We talked about it in the alley before we were attacked. The victim in the newspaper was involved in the 'rejected killings'…
"Hey 'Rick," Nick shouted, "try the word 'rejected'."
Warrick typed the word in, praying in his heart that it was the right one. The screen lagged for a while before coming to life. "All right, we're in!" Warrick said has he looked at the contents in the computer desktop. There were only 2 folders on the screen.
The Rejected and The Approved.
"Hey Nick, come here a sec." Warrick said as he clicked on the Rejected folder. "I think we found our 'rejected' killer." He pointed to the screen as Nick sat next to him. Within the folder, there were files with the names of several victims as their titles. Within those files, there were detailed profiles of each victim, from their medical history to education qualifications. There were pictures of them before and after death, with the word "rejected" clearly visible on their bodies. There were also video files that showed the abuse and murders taking place. However, during the whole time, the killer's face was covered.
"That sick bastard…" Nick said with anger. "What's on the other folder?"
"Let's see ..." Warrick opened up the Approved folder. There was only one file in there. "I'm going to need her back?" Nick read out the file title, "What does he mean by that?" Warrick looked back at Nick, confused. He opened the file…
On the monitor screen, Nick and Warrick were face to face with a video, shot with a thermal infrared imaging camera. The camera showed them images of temperature variations within a room. From what they can tell, there was someone at the far right corner of the room.
The name at the bottom of the screen read: Sara Sidle.
"Oh my gosh---" Nick turned to the direction of the study room, "The body in the study is not her…that's Sara!! That's Sara in that room!" Nick shouted and pointed at the computer screen, feeling alittle relieved but mostly worried at the same time. He tried to recall what someone told him about infrared thermography. "Warrick— blue means dead… red means alive right?" Warrick thought for a second before nodding his head. Nick looked back at the monitor. "Hers shows pink, which means body heat's fading…" He turned to look at Warrick, unable to hide a desperate, sad look on his face.
"She's dying…"
TBC
One of my siblings said that Nick was not emotional enough in this chapter. Do you all agree?. I kinda like it when Nick puts up a strong front. He seems like that kind of guy, if you know what I mean.
Could I ask you guys,do you think I should continue this story? I kinda think its long-winded and not many people will like that kind of thing. Do let me know.
Thank you for reading this chapter. You guys are great. Smile!