Within five minutes Jerry returned, bearing a huge pot of tea, milk and sugar, plus another of coffee and a massive plate of white chocolate cookies. When Danielle felt the size of the plate she gasped. "Wow! You seriously expecting us to eat all those?"
"Maybe not in this meeting," Jerry smiled. "But I hear you're venturing out today? Thought you could take some with you, you might need them."
Danielle couldn't help turning towards Dr Loomis in mock suspicion. The Psychiatrist raised his hands. "I'm innocent," he said.
Jerry had just turned to leave again when Danielle lightly touched his arm. "Jerry?"
"Yes darling?"
Danielle smiled at him. "Can I ask you something? She closed the doors.
"Uh oh," Jerry said in mock fear. "Danielle's shut me in! Should I be scared?"
"Terrified," Joanne, Rick, Nigel and Dr Loomis said together.
"Hey!" Danielle tried to sound indignant, but it failed as Danielle too started to laugh. "No, I just wondered Jerry…"
"Oh, this might take a while," Jerry fake sighed, sat down and began pouring them all a drink. Everyone smiled at him. He poured himself a coffee then handed round the cookies, taking one himself.
"You're not busy, are you?" Danielle asked suddenly seriously.
"Nope," Jerry confirmed. "All's good in the kitchen's right now. There's your tea, milk two sugars, right?" He passed it to her, and Danielle nodded, smiling. "Thanks Jez."
"Jez, eh?" he chuckled. "I get called that a lot. So, Madam head of this meeting, how may I be of assistance to you this morning Mam?"
"Oh, shut up," Danielle lightly punched his arm. "No, it's just… you're Irish. How did you come to be here in Illinois?"
He chuckled again. "My parents were Irish, and the accent must have come down to me. I was born in Dublin, but my parents decided to move here when I was 12."
"Why?"
"To be honest with you sweetheart I don't know. Maybe they just didn't like Dublin? My father wanted to work on cars and obviously the US love their engines, and mom wanted to work in a huge retail store. So, Danielle now works in the huge shopping mall in the centre of IL.
"But why here? You could've gone anywhere? The US is huge after all!"
"I don't know. I think they like IL because of the views. Has anyone told you? There are stunning views if you know where to look, also it's quiet most of the time where we lived."
"But in winter it's freezing!" Danielle shuddered a little. "Why not go to Australia or somewhere?"
He laughed. "Ask my dad honey he made the decision."
Do your parents still live here?"
"Yep. Dad's retired now but mom's adamant she wants to work a little bit longer. I'm 28, mom's 50 and dad is 62."
"Isn't that a bit early to retire?"
"Dad made a fortune from his car business so decided he'd had enough. He set up his own business from scratch over here."
"Do you think you'll ever go back to Dublin? I don't mean to stay but to visit?"
"Um, to be honest I doubt it. I don't have much left from the place. Well accept the accent," he nudged her shoulder. Danielle laughed.
"So now I've been interrogated Madam, I think fair's fair. Tell me a bit about you?"
"Fair enough," Danielle grinned. "Um let's see. I'll be 20 on Christmas day this year and I've been totally blind since birth. I'm adopted as of last week; my best friends' parents adopted me. You remember Charlotte who came up to visit me a few times?"
"Ah yes," Jerry said after a moment's thought. "Nice girl."
"She certainly is," Danielle smiled a little sadly.
"I heard about what happened," Jerry's voice was gentle. "I'm sorry. But she will come back I promise you! When she does, I'll give her a whole batch of my white chocolate cookies, that's a promise!" Danielle couldn't help it now and stood, pulling the young Irishman into a hug. He hugged her back. "Thank you, Jerry," she said sincerely. "Then she'd better wake up because they are out of this world!"
"Yeah," Joanne agreed. "If that isn't a motive for her to come back to us then I don't know what is! Jerry's white chocolate cookies? They'll wake anyone out of a coma!" Everyone smiled. Danielle continued with her story.
"To be honest I can't remember what I told you, but I was admitted here following a suicide attempt after horrific domestic abuse. This man here," Danielle poked Nigel's shoulder. "Nigel was my neighbour, and he saved my life that day. Cut me down from the garage when I was hanging by the neck to end it all!"
Jerry clapped Nigel on the back. "Good man! Well done, would've been a terrible loss to us all!"
"You're telling me," Nigel said.
"So yeah, as time went on, I got close to a certain man named Michael Myers," Danielle lightly nudged Michael's arm.
"I know," Jerry wolf whistled. "I wish you both nothing but the best."
"Thanks."
"Can I ask, why were you adopted? What happened to your parents?"
Danielle laughed humourlessly. "They fucked off and abandoned me when I was 15 because I'm blind. Sent me a text saying they didn't want anything further to do with me because of it as 'I'm not perfect,' "Danielle put air quotes around the last three words. "So, they were disowning me."
"Fucking hell," Jerry sounded horrified. "What the fuck?" Danielle smiled a little more genuinely this time. "Hey their loss, my gain. The Avery's are the best family in the whole world, and they truly love me. I'm thrilled to be Charlotte's sister. So, when Charlotte wakes up, while we devour white chocolate cookies by the load of course, I will tell her the good news! Well, Danielle might say bad, but…"
This time it was Jerry to hug her. "Now that's a real motive to wake up," he murmured. Danielle couldn't help it and softly kissed his cheek. He squeezed her tightly and kissed her cheek in return. "Charlotte will come back," he said softly. "I promise."
"Course she will, with your cookies on the table," Danielle blinked back tears. "Thanks Jez."
"You're the only one who's allowed to call me that," Jerry warned as Danielle sat down, and he poured and passed her another tea. "Right, better get back to work. Thanks for the chat, was lovely to get to know you better. Mr. Myers, look after her for us, will you?" Dr Loomis could hardly believe what he was seeing as Michael now stood up and shook hands with the young chef. With a cheerful, "Bye," Jerry left the room starting to whistle again.
"Sorry," Danielle apologised. "I know that wasn't planned, but…"
"Now what are you saying sorry for?" Joanne and Dr Loomis said together.
"Uh, well nothing I guess," Danielle mumbled, knowing Danielle'd just been put in her place.
"He's a lovely guy is Jerry," Rick smiled. "I've met him a few times, always have a little chat when I go down to the kitchens or see him in the corridors. Got a lot of time for him."
"I can see why," Danielle nodded. "He's lovely."
"Him, or just his white chocolate cookies?" Joanne teased. Danielle pretended to be thinking. "Um, both. Although his cookies are amazing!"
There were a few minutes of companionable silence while everyone sipped their hot drinks and ate another cookie, then Rick spoke.
"Ok before we start planning," Danielle checked her phone. It was almost 9. "Please," Rick laid his hand on her arm. "Please, just humour me for a minute. Are you sure you want to come with me for this? I will more than understand believe me if you've changed your mind."
Danielle stood up and pulled him into a hug. "No Rick," Danielle murmured into his shoulder. "I am absolutely 100% certain. After what he did to both of us hell yes, I'm sure!"
"Ok," he hugged her back then released her. Danielle retook her seat. "I just had to ask that once."
"I genuinely appreciate your concern," Danielle said sincerely. "I really do Rick. Thanks for your text last night."
"You're welcome."
"You gave her your personal number?" Joanne sounded mock terrified. "Rick, how could you! We've got ourselves a stalker!" Everyone laughed. Joanne reached forward and took the phone from her hand. Danielle didn't question it, Danielle trusted Joanne turner implicitly. When her guard and now friend handed it back, she pretended to sound devastated.
"What have I done? Oh no! Danielle's got my personal cell number too now! Shit! I made a mistake!"
Danielle stood up and hugged her as tightly as she could. "I love you Joanne," she murmured into her ear. Joanne hugged her back just as tightly. Danielle sat down and sent Joanne a text so she would have her number in return.
"Got it," Joanne confirmed a second later.
"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 arranged for you to fly there. James will meet you at the airport at 11."
"Seriously?" they said in unison. "That must be costing Smith's Grove a fortune," Danielle 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 must 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."
Danielle 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," Danielle 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…" Danielle 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," Danielle 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?"
"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," Danielle nodded. It all sounded relatively straight forward; Danielle just hoped it would go that simply when the time 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 done. "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 killer's 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 man 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 types 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'd 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 must 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 09:40AM 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 her arm. "We ready kid?"
"Yes Sir," Danielle mock saluted.
"Knock it off," he poked her arm but was laughing. Danielle 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 Danielle 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 must tell me, and a guard will take care of you until I come out. Ok?"
"Got it," Danielle smiled at him. "Understood."
Before Danielle knew quite what was happening, they were at the airport, shaking hands with James and climbing into the private plane. Danielle 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. Danielle stood by what she'd said in that conference room, she hoped Derek Chancer felt every second of his death. If Danielle had her way, she would 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. Danielle told him what she'd been thinking, and he chuckled.
"I don't think you're alone there."
Danielle 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. Danielle 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 priority will be your safety. I promise it has nothing to do with you."
"You sure?" Danielle 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! I don't think Joanne would be too happy either!"
He laughed. "Very true."
"Ok guys," 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."
Danielle 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 Danielle was able to pay real attention to the safety briefing, although Danielle 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 Danielle was left in a corner as the little blind person, people spoke about her instead of to her. Danielle 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 Danielle 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 they'd had to turn their phones off.
I love you too. Take care and please stay safe. M.
Now as the plane flew onwards, Danielle smiled to herself. Yes, she was perfectly safe this was true, but Derek Chancer most certainly was not. Danielle 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? Danielle 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, Danielle 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.
…
Danielle pulled on her thick coat as the car drove inexorably towards the prison. Even with the heating activated it was freezing. Not that Danielle was surprised as it was late November after all. "Cold?" Rick asked.
"Yeah, it's freezing."
"It is rather," he agreed and before Danielle could stop him had put his thick coat over hers. "I'm…" she started, but Rick simply started to whistle. With a sigh but smile, she surrendered. "Thank you."
"I'm sorry I can't turn the heating up any further," said Martin, the Smith's Grove driver.
"No worries," Danielle smiled at him. "I'm sure heating always struggles this time of year."
Martin chuckled. "Indeed."
Before Danielle knew it, they were at the prison. She felt another shiver of… something but wasn't sure what. Fear? But there was absolutely no way she would change her mind now.
"Ok?" Rick murmured; something had obviously shown on her face.
"Fine," she said with a determined nod.
"You don't have to you know," he said softly. "Honestly you don't."
"I know," Danielle smiled a little. "But I've come this far so I'm going to see this to the end. I guess it's just… strange to think I'm about to see a man die. Evil son of a bitch yes, but still…"
"As long as you're sure, remember what I told you."
"Nope," Danielle squeezed his hand. "I'm good Rick, let's do this."
"Ok," her friend squeezed back.
They reached the first security point, and Danielle realised Rick hadn't been kidding. They were patted down by armed men and all Danielle could hear was the chatter of radios. Rick told them he'd left his equipment in the car so as not to have to surrender it.
"Ok," one of the armed guards said. Danielle didn't have to see them to know their guns were the real deal. "Can I see both your acceptance letters please?"
They both pulled them out of their pockets. Danielle remembered when she'd gone to her cell just before they left to change into her black suit and slipping said letter into the pocket of the suit's jacket. Michael had gone with her.
You look gorgeous.
Danielle smiled thinking of that text now. "You're just saying that because you're biased," she joked.
No, I'm saying it because I'm honest.
Rick was also wearing a suit and tie under his equipment vest. He knew Danielle loved men in suits, and she had kept touching his jacket and tie. "What would Michael say?" He joked.
"I don't think I want to find out," she grinned back. "I'd probably be dying myself." The guard must've cleared her because he handed her back the letter, simply saying "Thank you Miss Avery." The sound of her adopted name made her smile again, Danielle doubted that would ever change. Seconds later Rick was also cleared, and they headed through the first set of prison gates. The buzzing sound of the gates opening was of course familiar to her after Smith's Grove, whose gates did the same. Along with other witnesses, Danielle and Rick continued walking to the next checkpoint.
…
Four hours to execution:
Derek's suspicions had been proved right. The macaroni and cheese did indeed taste cheap, but he tolerated it because he didn't want to die hungry. The chicken however with it wasn't bad. It was just a shame he couldn't also do so with his lust satisfied. The chocolate pie however was good. Derek severed each mouthful as he ate the huge dessert, trying to make it last if he possibly could. He was surprised he even wanted to eat without throwing it up, but it was as though his stomach just like his eyes earlier had accepted its life was soon to be over and wanted to go in style. Father Fletcher had spoken to him for three hours straight about Christianity and what it meant, how to accept Jesus and the rest. Derek had listened, nodded, said 'hmm' in the right places and even gone along with saying the so-called 'sinners' prayer.' He however doubted it would do much good. If he was Jesus, he certainly wouldn't accept a guy who was only talking to him because his life was over in under 6 hours. The Chaplin was still with him now, Derek had been told he could be with him right until he was dead. Normally he would've told him to fuck off hours ago having no time for religion, but his company was better than none. Aiden Thompson had arrived at mid-day and was sitting with them now as he ate. Derek didn't want to speak to him though unless he had to. His mind seemed to have gone numb unable to think about anything. It was as if his very ability to think had already died before his body did.
"Is there anything you can do?" He finally looked up from his pie of which he still had a lot left to look at Thompson. To get me out of this?"
"I am still trying," the lawyer said smoothly. "I will not give up until… I must."
He understood what his lawyer was not saying. Until you're in the chair being fried. "Thanks," he said grudgingly. If Thompson hadn't been able to thus far, what were the chances he'd be able to this close to execution? Derek knew very occasionally lawyers managed to get a reprieve, an appeal at the last hour or even a pardon for their clients in the past, but he also wasn't stupid enough to think the governor would pardon someone who'd raped and killed forty-two women without remorse or mercy. As if reading his mind, Thompson spoke again. "There are protesters outside the governor's mansion right now trying to stop this execution.".
Derek scoffed. Those fucking idiots. They only cared about the abolishment of capital punishment, not the man who was about to face it! "Those twats don't give a shit about me," he said, voicing his thoughts. "They just hate the death penalty. They're probably thrilled Derek Chancer is about to face the damn chair!"
"That's as maybe," Thompson said. "But you never know, the governor might take notice."
"Bullshit he will," Derek snorted. "He's probably as happy as all those fucking women out there that I'm about to die! Those gawping fuckers who will sit in the witness room come 6 and cheer when I'm pronounced dead! Those protesters never do any good, they just want the media to see them and have their voices heard! When in God's name have, they ever succeeded in stopping an execution?" He didn't even apologise to Father Fletcher for his use of God's name that way, he'd gone past caring if he was completely honest. "What the fuck do they achieve? Now if they stop this execution, I'll love them forever! But come on, their just fucking idiots who want an excuse to protest! Those candles? Songs? Prayers? They ain't for me! They're just to have attention on them as opposed to the guest of honour," he sneered the last three words.
"I understand your point of view," Thompson said evenly. "But you never know, they might. Either way I can't stop them if they wish to protest and that's not my responsibility anyway, my job is you."
"Then fucking do something," Derek snarled before he could hold the words back. "I don't want to die tonight, Thompson! My only hope now is you and you damn well know it! There must be something you can do?"
The telephone in the small office they were in suddenly rang and Thompson grabbed it. Derek desperately tried not to feel hope, he wasn't naive enough to think it would be good news. "The governor has just denied clemency," Thompson said softly as he lowered the receiver. Derek felt his panic threaten to take over again. That was it, the last nail in his coffin. The only way he could deal with this was anger. "Of course, he fucking has," he snarled. "Got to look after the victims, all those bitches who are dead and their families, got to respect the women he killed blab, blab! Spare me Thompson, I don't need to hear anymore! I bet that's what he said in his fucking tailored suit and tie in his announcement, yes?"
"Near enough," Thompson said quietly. Derek couldn't help it. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, terrified scream. "FUCK!"
…
"Ok guys," a guard said. "If I could ask you to just wait here, please for the first of the transport vans?"
Rick nodded. "Of course." They sat on benches specifically for waiting witnesses. They could hear the soft singing of the Anti-death penalty protesters just outside the Maximum-security unit's gates. Danielle wondered if it was Chancer's execution they were protesting for, or just against the death penalty itself. If Danielle had been one of them, she wouldn't be protesting for Chancer whatsoever! Hell, she would probably miss this entire execution altogether, unable to protest in good conscience because of whom was about to die!
"I don't know why they even bother to protest," Danielle said quietly, voicing her train of thought. "I mean, what good does it do? Illinois is a death penalty state, and I don't see how singing and praying with candles will change it."
"You are so sinical Miss Avery."
"So correct," Danielle countered. He chuckled. "I do have to agree though. I don't see the point of it either. Not really."
Danielle suddenly heard a voice she recognised from the news and couldn't resist turning towards the speaker. "Excuse me," Danielle said quietly. "Mrs. Goodall?" The woman turned. "Hello?"
"I'm sorry," Danielle said, standing and holding out her hand which Sarah Goodall took. "My name is Danielle; I was in Smith's Grove when they were…" she hesitated. "Insisting on trying to treat Chancer."
"It's nice to meet you," Goodall said, immediately noticing the woman in front of her was blind.
"I recognised your voice from the news," Danielle said, knowing Sarah would notice she couldn't see. "I heard you speak just now and wanted to introduce myself. I am so sorry for your loss Mrs. Goodall."
"You are a sweetheart," the other woman squeezed her arm. "Thank you. Rick stood then and introduced himself, telling Mrs. Goodall he was one of the Smith's Grove guards and what Derek Chancer had almost done to him. But Danielle noticed he altered the story slightly by saying guards had come in and knocked Chancer out. She understood, saying it was Michael Myers when no one knew how he'd changed? She doubted anyone would believe it. She couldn't stop a smile at Rick when he told the lie.
"Samantha Lever is also here," Mrs. Goodall said in a low voice. "Rachel's sister."
"Shit," Danielle exhaled. "Rachael was very young, wasn't she?"
"19," Mrs. Goodall murmured. Danielle felt anger for Derek Chancer all over again. "Son of a bitch."
"How old was Andrea, Mrs. Goodall?" Danielle asked softly.
"She was 25 when Chancer took her from us. She'd gone down to the local shops for some milk and bam! We told her not to go so late at night alone, but she was adamant. Said she was desperate for her coffee! Foolish woman!"
"Sounds like I would've really liked her, determined to be independent. It just sucks that fucking… sorry," Danielle apologised, but Mrs. Goodall chuckled. "You're right. They are fuckers."
"It sucks that fucking men think women are worthless, shouldn't be independent, should be controlled, obey the man's every word, raped, beaten, killed."
"You sound like you're talking from experience?" Mrs. Goodall said gently.
"Oh yes," Danielle almost growled. "Damn right I am. But we're not here to focus on me, we're here for Andrea and all the other women that bastard in there killed!"
"You're a darling," Danielle realised with shock that Samantha Lever had just joined them another she had heard speak on the news. "But do tell us your story? How were you… unfortunate enough to meet Mr. Chancer?"
Keeping it short Danielle told them about Adam, his abuse leading up to her suicide attempt which had landed her in Smith's Grove. How Chancer had come in and somehow been employed by Adam to listen to and report on her to him. How Adam had managed to critically injure Charlotte her best friend, and then kidnap her. Like Rick, Danielle altered the story, so it sounded as though other guards had rescued her. She felt him squeeze her arm as she too lied and they smiled at each other, sharing their beautiful secret.
"Sweet Jesus," Mrs. Lever said in horror when Danielle was done. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, you're just as much a victim as our families are!"
"Thank you, Mrs. Lever," Danielle said sincerely. "But I don't think that's true I didn't lose someone I loved, I wasn't raped and killed by him."
"That's as maybe," Mrs. Goodall said firmly. "But that fucker in there still put you in terrible danger. That to me makes you just as much of a victim! Kudos to you for being here to witness him fry, you deserve closure just as much as we do!" Danielle was so touched by Mrs. Goodall's passionate words, she stepped forward and hugged her. She was almost brought to tears by the warmth in the other woman as she embraced her back without hesitation as did Mrs. Lever.
"I meant to say call me Sarah," she murmured in her ear, just as Samantha Lever had done.
"I prefer Sam," she said in a confidential whisper.
"Here's the van," Mrs. Goodall said a minute later. Danielle could not believe it when both women took her arms and helped her towards and into the van, Rick following behind. "Oh, I see how it is, I'm out of a job," he murmured to her once he was sitting behind her, the two women either side. Danielle smiled at him.
The van pulled away and Mrs. Goodall told her that this one was only for family and directly connected witnesses. "Which of course includes you," she squeezed her arm again.
"How many… grieving family members are here?" Danielle whispered to Sarah Goodall.
"I think every victim has one witness," the other woman murmured back. "Due to his high number of… casualties we could only bring one witness for each victim."
"Did that cause you a problem? You sound a little frustrated."
Sarah laughed a little. "Oh, my husband wanted to be there, insisted he wanted to see that, "Fucker die,"" she stressed the last two words and Danielle knew it was a quote. "But… you know, Andrea's my daughter, Chancer killed women, you understand?"
"Oh, hell yes!" Danielle said vehemently. "Damn right I understand Sarah! Did your husband relent in the end?"
"He didn't like it, but yes, he finally understood my point of view."
They finally reached the gates to the Maximum-security unit and the van came to a stop. The doors slid open at the push of a button from the driver, and they all exited. Mrs. Goodall immediately taking Danielle's arm again. It was almost as though something in her story had caused Sarah to take her under her wing during this execution. That said, Danielle knew they were both united by terrible loss in their own way thanks entirely to Derek Julian Chancer.
…
Two hours to execution:
Now, Derek was starting to feel sick. He was certain he was about to throw up the chocolate pie he'd just finiDanielled. He desperately fought with his insides, determined not to give the prison even that small victory before they fried him. He knew the witnesses would be starting to arrive now and it made everything seem even more real, as if he'd been living in some horrible nightmare for the last few days. He could almost hear the grim reaper himself banging the symbols of deaf together in his ears, telling him he would soon claim Derek Chancer's soul. Derek believed more in the grim reaper than this Jesus rubbish Fletcher had spouted at him all day. Just as he'd suspected no visitors came to see him during the allotted final visit time, but then he wasn't surprised. Thompson and Fletcher had stayed with him inside the holding cell as they were allowed to do. Every now and then Thompson would step out to take a phone call on the office phone nearby. Every time he did this, Derek would desperately clamp down on any shred of hope which tried to rear its head. There was… pun intended, absolutely no chance it would be good news at this late stage. Yes, it had happened before this was true, but to him. A rapist and woman killer? Not likely! He wasn't naive to think it would do either. Even though every single part of him had prayed… hoped for it constantly over the last forty-eight hours. He didn't even have the energy or inclination to put up a final fight when a guard entered to shave his head and calf. He was a beaten man by this point and what would fighting do anyway? They'd probably just shackle him and carry him to the fucking chair when the time came if he did that.
…
Danielle was surprised how small the witness room was, or perhaps it was just the sheer number of witnesses within it for this execution. Either way it was tight and claustrophobic. Just before they'd entered Rick had asked her one final time if she was sure, she'd hugged him and nodded once. Now they were inside, the time for changing her mind had passed. Once again Sarah Goodall was sitting on one side, Samantha Lever on the other. It was as though she'd made two instant friends united in grief and loss. Rick was sitting right behind her. The witness room was almost silent, save for the soft murmur of conversation. Rick had asked the guards ahead of time if he could show her the glass before Chancer was brought in, to which they'd agreed due to Danielle's special circumstances. So, when they'd entered the witness room, he'd taken her up to the huge sheet of glass and she'd touched it. It went from one side of the witness room to the other, Rick had explained, giving everyone the best possible view. The Death Chamber was directly on the other side, a small room containing purely 'old sparky' and nothing else.
"That sounds so macabre," Danielle remarked with a grim smile. "The best view of someone dying. Now it kind of make sense why they stopped public executions. At least all these people in here have a valid reason to see it as opposed to pure blood lust."
…
Thirty minutes to execution:
The sedative they'd given him hadn't worked. They'd told him it would sedate him slightly; it'd done fuck all. True he'd only swallowed the little pill ten minutes ago, but damn where were the effects? Panic and terror were most certainly not the last two feelings Derek Chancer wanted to die with!
…
Danielle retook her seat between Sarah and Samantha five minutes later, not quite able to believe what had just happened. Rick had arranged it in secret and affection swelled for her friend.
"Danielle?" Said the voice of one of the guards. Danielle looked up. "Yes?"
"Please can you come with me for a moment?"
Without questioning it she stood up and took his arm. He led her through two secure doors and then stopped. There was no echo where they were and all Danielle could hear was a soft humming sound.
"Am I…" Danielle spoke in just above a whisper, unable to believe where she was now standing. "Am I now in the Death Chamber?"
"You are indeed," the guard confirmed. Taking her hand, he laid it on the arm of a wooden chair. Danielle could not believe it, she was touching 'old sparky' himself. "Your friend Rick arranged it this morning," the guard said, and Danielle could hear he was smiling. Taking her arm again he showed her how small the Death Chamber indeed was then the glass from their side of the room.
"I wouldn't want to die in here," Danielle said, keeping her voice low, though she wasn't sure why. Something about the atmosphere in here, perhaps? Or simply because of where she was. "It's claustrophobic and I can see how only a few people fit in here. Not exactly where I'd want to face my death!"
"Yes, only three guards to secure Mr. Chancer and the Chaplin are in here, the guards then leave, and the person being executed is alone with the Chaplin."
He laid her hand back on the electric chair and spoke softly. "Go on it's fine."
Again, she could hardly believe what she was doing as Danielle Avery sat down in 'old sparky.' Danielle was glad this was before the execution not after. As if reading her mind the guard spoke again.
"We wouldn't do it after. For one thing the chair may be hot and for another…"
Danielle nodded. She wouldn't want to sit where someone albeit an absolute asshole had died just minutes before.
Unable to stop herself, Danielle felt the straps which would go around Derek Chancer's arms, legs and chest. Picking one up, the guard loosely strapped down her left arm. Even loose Danielle couldn't move it. "Wow," she let out a soft whistle.
The guard then handed her the skull cap, a metal heavy helmet like object with more straps attached to it.
"Doesn't he also wear a hood?" Danielle was still speaking quietly, something about the Death Chamber made her unable to speak in normal tones. Was it the very smell of death? Or maybe even that this room was possibly haunted by the scores of people who had died exactly where Danielle was sitting right now.
"Yes," the guard confirmed, handing her the piece of cloth. He then loosely applied the chest strap to her.
"Shit," Danielle let out a low whistle. "That is scary enough, just knowing you're about to die strapped down like an animal… that said, Derek Chancer fucking deserves it! I'm sorry Sir but he does!"
"Hey, it's Joel," he squeezed her strapped down arm. "Nice to meet you. For what it's worth I completely agree with you regarding Mr. Chancer."
"Nice to meet you too, Joel. Thank you so much for this."
Danielle heard the snap of a camera and realised Joel had just taken a picture of her within the seat of 'old sparky.'
"Rick asked me to so you can prove your story," he smiled.
"Oh god," Danielle groaned. "Now I can tell you for a fact I'll have people saying 'what? And they let you out alive afterwards?' Thanks Rick!"
Joel laughed softly. "Thanks," Danielle said as he took a couple more shots. "Are you going to pull the switch on me now?"
Joel chuckled. "Nah, I'll let you out this time I suppose," he sighed dramatically. "You won't both fit!"
Danielle couldn't help but laugh. She knew the guards had dark senses of humour and couldn't blame them either. It was doubtlessly their coping mechanism to get them through putting even evil people like Chancer to death. Joel released her from the restraints, helped her stand and step down from the small platform 'old sparky' stood on.
"Plus, last time I checked I hadn't raped and killed forty-two innocent women," Danielle said in disgust. "Fuck I hope it hurts him!"
"Yes, it was a terrible crime," Joel murmured, and Danielle could hear genuine sympathy and sadness in his voice. She already respected him enormously for what he'd just let her see and do, but it only rose even further if that were possible at this.
Joel made to lead her out, but Danielle likely tugged his arm and he stopped. "Listen," she whispered. She could've sworn the soft hum had just changed in both volume and pitch. It was louder and higher.
"Yes," Joel confirmed softly. "That's the electricity generator, they've just powered it up to start the chair's charging cycle. They do that with 20 minutes remaining until execution."
Danielle shivered a little. "Just to clarify I do know it's not actually one switch," she said as Joel finally guided her back out of the Death Chamber a few seconds later. "Don't three people all press a button at the same time, so no one knows who actually sets the current going?"
"Yep," Joel said. "Psychological thing."
Danielle nodded. "That makes sense, although I have to be honest with you Joel, I'd have no God damn qualms about pressing that single button on my own for this bastard!"
"I don't think you're alone there," Joel said. "I'm sure women would be queuing up to do it if they could."
Now, as Danielle retook her seat between the two women, Rick squeezed her shoulder. "Did you… well like is possibly the wrong word… did it help you understand execution even better?"
"I can't thank you enough for that Rick," Danielle said sincerely, turning in her seat to grasp his hand. "I really, really can't."
"Then you're welcome."
"Rick has asked if I could squeeze your hand when the electrocution starts," Sarah said. "I'll do that for you no problem."
"As will I," Samantha said. Danielle felt a swell of affection and sadness for both women, plus the other family members in here. The four of them in their little group were only sitting in this room because of one man's evil, misogynistic actions which had taken so many innocent lives.
…
Fifteen minutes to execution.
"Time to go Chancer," a guard said opening the door to the holding cell. Now Derek was feeling numb. Was that the effects of the sedative? Truth be told he didn't know but he was glad of it. Maybe his body had finally accepted its fate? The guard handcuffed him, and Fletcher placed a hand on his shoulder. It was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture, but Derek hated it. But neither did he have the strength or inclination to shrug him off. Three armed guards joined the first and he was escorted in his cheap prison slippers (he couldn't wear shoes of course) through two doors, taking the final steps of his life as he entered the Death Chamber. The first thing he noticed was the hum. Fuck! He knew what that sound was alright, the electricity which would very soon take his life. They reached the platform where 'old sparky' waited and Derek wondered briefly if he was about to faint. Dizziness overtook him and he grabbed one of the guards' arms without thinking. "Steady there," the guard murmured as another took his other arm and they helped him step up onto the platform. If this had been any other situation whatsoever Derek would've hated it and shrugged them off violently, but this time he was almost grateful for their aid in making the last step up of his life.
They turned him around and he took his seat in 'old sparky.' The electric chair was hard wood, but it wasn't like he would be alive inside it for long, this was where he was about to die! Two of the guards quickly and efficiently started strapping down his arms, legs and finally his chest. Derek could feel himself shaking now and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The sedative hadn't worked after all. He was only too aware of his surroundings and death's heavy breathing down his neck. He had less than ten minutes to live.
…
It was the sudden hush of conversation which alerted Danielle the execution was about to start. Both Sarah and Samantha took her hands, and Danielle could feel them trembling a little with emotion. She squeezed both back as hard as she could trying to tell them in her own way she was there for them and understood, even though Danielle herself hadn't lost anyone to Chancer. He had still done more than enough damage to her safety and even life. From behind her Danielle felt Rick's hand rest on her shoulder and squeeze after which he left it there. Her heart was thumping surprisingly fast considering she was only sitting in the witness room. Perhaps the knowledge of what she was about to be a witness to had finally hit her after all. She had texted Michael one final time just before entering the prison.
We're entering Death Row now. I love you.
She'd had to turn her phone off immediately, so wasn't sure if he replied or not.