See Them Die Part 3

See Them Die: Part 3

Mike Faraday walked the running path in the park for hours. People were back on the trails. He encountered an elderly couple, several college kids, and a few random runners. People barely reacted to the fact there was a murder on the trail. As he searched the area around where the doctor's body was, Mike feared for those running the trails so soon after Sylvia's death.

When Mike's search at the park didn't find anything, he decided to return home. He had gone at it for twelve hours. It was time to stand down and recharge his battery.

At home, Mike took off his jacket. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass. Sitting at his computer, Mike began combing through case files. He was still looking for cases like Sylvia's. He looked at every case the department had on record, and after, he began checking news stories from the region.

Coast City was a beautiful area. It happened to be in a state known for violence and tragedy. The statistics from the FBI indicated that there were between twenty-five and fifty active serial killers in the US. Mike believed this wasn't the first of its kind. The thing he was hunting had killed before.

There was a knock at the door that distracted him from his work. Mike viewed the feed from the security monitor. He wasn't expecting anyone at his door. Few people knew he was back in town.

Mike opened his door to see Susie Callahan. He tucked his pistol in his pants before unchaining the door. Susie came in with a file. It was the doctor's autopsy file.

"Are you going to offer me a drink?" she asked.

Mike knew she liked rum and soda. He put some ice in a glass and added two shots of rum and half a soda while he asked her what she was doing there. He wanted to know how she knew he was in town, but cops talk too much. All it would take is a couple of uniformed guys who saw him at the crime scene. As he handed her the glass, Mike asked her why she'd come.

"Can't an old friend stop by for a visit?" she said sarcastically.

"Is that what this is, or are you curious?"

"Alright, you caught me. What the hell do you think got used on Rodriguez?"

Susie Callahan was closer to retirement than the rest of the medical examiner's office. After twenty-five years, she knew the dead better than the living. Susie performed the autopsy on Sylvia and had no inclinations about the murder weapon. She knew it was sharp, thick, and had shredded a friend. For the first time in years, a murder had her stumped.

"You're the specialist," she told Mike. "What the hell happened to her?"

Mike could only wish he had answers. He shared that he was stumped.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was attacked by a Grizzly Bear," he explained.

"A grizzly," pondered Susie. "I don't think so."

Mike wondered what else it could be until she shared the angle of the wounds. They were precise, coming from the same implement but nowhere near the height of a bear attack. Susie couldn't tell them what caused so much damage as many exams and autopsies as she'd performed.

"So, what about you?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

Susie shook her head in disbelief. After being gone for several weeks, Mike was playing coy with her. She wanted to know if he was alright, but more than that, to know what drug him away from home.

"Where were you?"

Mike looked at his friend and appreciated the sentiment behind the questions. He couldn't tell her the truth and didn't want to lie to her. He gave her that look that told people not to pry, hoping for once she would take the hint. As close as the two were, Susie often pushed him to share things better left unspoken.

"I can't," he told her.

"You don't trust me," she said, her hand on her heart.

"It's not that I don't trust you," he promised.

Susie smiled at him. She understood the predicament he was in. There were things about his life that he couldn't share. She only wanted to be there for him.

"Are you good?"

The last job was a tough one. Mike had to make a judgment call to get it done. It was a decision he'd carry for the rest of his life. Those who oversaw the mission were pleased with the outcome. Mike wasn't so happy about things.

"I'll be alright," he promised.

As he sat there, struggling not to break down, the image from the job that haunted him etched into his brain, he felt his friend's arms around him. A tear streaked down his cheek as her head rested against his shoulder. She whispered in his ear.

"I'm always here if you need to free your conscience," she promised.

It had been more than a year since they grew closer. And in that time, Mike Faraday hadn't broken. Susie was intuitive enough to sense things were haunting him. He chose to leave it at that. Their relationship was important to him. It was the first time in years that Mike felt something for someone. It also meant he needed to protect her from that world.

"I appreciate it," he sighed.

The two shared a silent moment as she held her hand on his cheek, felt his tears, and sunk into his arms. Their lips tenderly met. She ran her fingers through his hair as their lips tangled together, their tongues dancing slightly against each other's.

Susie pulled at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons on the black button-down he wore. Her hands found his chiseled chest as he tugged at her top, bringing it over her head. Instantly, she grabbed his head and kissed him again passionately. Mike reached down, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her onto his lap. She wrapped her petite, toned body around his as he stood and carried her to the bedroom.

Stanley walked home from the bar every night, always a little bit worse off than he started. Tonight was the tenth anniversary of his big moment, winning the championship. A championship victory got him the scholarship money to pay for the rest of his education. It was the moment that would lead him to his dream life.

He'd been stepping out more and more the past year. His friends, colleagues, and his wife all tried to reach Stanley. Whatever it was, he wouldn't talk about it.

He took the same route every night. He'd leave the bar and walk through the district area. Stanley enjoyed seeing all the people. The vibrant colors in the district hadn't diminished with all the rain and flooding. There were always people there. The energy of the crowds reminded Stanley what life was about.

He'd watch the camaraderie between buddies. He would even watch the young couples walking together, holding hands. It made Stanley feel better about where he was in life. Stanley knew he didn't have much time in front of him.

Cutting through an alley between Fifth Avenue and Henderson Boulevard, Stanely whistled. He would whistle his favorite tunes and randomly whistle old show tunes while he walked through the alley. Stanley would get lost in his head as he spent the time alone. Each night he returned home, he'd put on a happy face. Was it just luck, he would wonder.

Stanley cut down the alleyway again after a night of frivolity. He could see the street lights on the next street. As the rains started to douse the excitement of another Coast City night, he pulled his hood over his head. The rains came down so forcefully that he was already soaked. Stanley's jeans clung to his legs.

A slight rumble from behind him caused him to turn. There was an old homeless man passed out in a doorway. Other than the old homeless man, Stanley noticed fogginess in the alley. Everything else looked normal.

He kept walking, and Stanley was halfway through the block when he heard the rumbling sound again. He turned, expecting to find someone following him. Stanely felt his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered if this was it.

"Come on!" he yelled.

Stanley turned in a circle, his arms outstretched. He yelled again.

"Come on! I'm right here!" he yelled.

Was he losing his mind, he wondered. As he stared into the hollowed eyes of the old homeless man, Stanley felt like his paranoia was getting the best of him. He put his arms down and chuckled to himself. He wondered, had he let his mind get the best of him?

As Stanley turned around, he heard something move. He looked over his shoulder and saw the same empty alleyway. Something told him to run. Someone or something was stalking him.

He ran toward the next street, Henderson Boulevard. He could hear the music from the nightclubs along the Boulevard. If he could get there, he knew he'd be safe.

He kept looking over his shoulder until he finally noticed something different. Stanley told himself it wasn't real. He had to quit drinking so much. His heart raced, pounding harder and harder against his ribs.

He looked back again. His eyes locked on the shape of something following him.

"No!" he screamed as he ran.

He stumbled hard and tripped, his face crashing against the wet concrete. Stanley turned and tried to get up but was thrust forcibly into the ground. He yelled for help but to no avail.

The jacket he wore shredded as the old homeless man sat watching. His mouth hung agape as something tore into the strange partier that cut through his alley. As the man stumbled to get to his feet, trying to flee the scene, he watched Stanley's murder.

"Ugh!" screamed Mike, sitting straight up in his bed.

Susie rolled over, looking at Mike as he sat there, frozen in fear. She touched his shoulder and felt the cold sweat pouring from him. She could feel his heart beating.

"What is it?"

Mike didn't say anything at first. He was frozen. He could see the long incisions ripping into a blue rainjacket. The savagery was stuck in his mind as the blood poured out of someone.

"Michael," Susie spoke again. "Talk to me."

Mike jumped out of his bed and rushed to his computer. He looked for the business name from the sign in his dream. As Michael's computer searched for the business, Susie called his name again. When he turned toward the bedroom, she stood there with a sheet wrapped around her.

"Jesus, would you talk to me? You're freaking me out," she told him.

"I remembered something important," he lied.

"It must have scared the hell out of you," she commented as she walked to him.

"I guess so," he admitted. "It was a nightmare, but something about it was real."

"Does this have anything to do with Sylvia?" asked Susie.

He didn't yet know if this was connected, but the imagery in his nightmare was the same as the nightmare he had before finding her body. Mike feared a connection to the murder. He didn't see another reason he'd dream about Sylvia's.

"I don't think so," he told Susie. "it's just PTSD or something. Maybe I've seen something similar before and forgotten it until now."

Mike grabbed her hand, and the two lovers returned to his bedroom. He tried to reassure her that the nightmares were a separate issue.

"Now, where were we?" he playfully asked as he wrapped his arms around Susie.

As much as he reassured her, he wanted to believe it himself until his cell phone started ringing. When it rang, the two looked at each other. Mike turned over to grab his phone as she got out of bed.

"Hello," he answered.

The look on his face changed from annoyed to grim. He nodded a couple of times and gave a couple of non-personal uh-huhs. As he listened to the details, he heard the door to his apartment closing.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm on my way. No, I am pretty sure I can find the location."

Mike pressed the red icon on his phone. He lay there for a moment. Mike dreamt about two murders as they were happening. He didn't know how, and he didn't know why.

As Mike stormed out of his apartment and raced to his Suburban, speeding away with his red and blues on, someone watched him leave. The man from the first crime scene was watching his home. Mike made it a block away before the man followed.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. When the call went through, the man gave a short answer.

"It's me," he told the person on the other end. "I think it's happened again. The investigator assigned to the case left his apartment in a rush."

"Don't lose him this time. We need to know what he knows," said a man's voice. "What have you learned about him?"

"Not much, his name is Michael Faraday. He's more of a freelancer than a regular Joe Cop. He's worked at ten different departments over the past seven years, and each chief and he are friends," explained the man following Mike.

"Really," sighed the person on the other end. "Anything else?"

"Just one thing," said the man in the Taurus. "He's a ghost. Before ten years ago, Michael Faraday didn't exist. Running him down any further than that will flag us. I tried, and I keep running into classified files. Whoever he is, he's connected."

"Well, be careful, my friend. Don't get yourself killed. If this guy is what I think he is, maybe you should work with him," suggested the person on the phone.

"Considering the facts, I am unsure we can trust this Faraday. He's too unpredictable," suggested the driver.

"Well, James, that's for you to decide. But as much as you might not like it, what's happening requires a skill you don't have. Perhaps this Mr. Faraday is someone you can learn to work with, or take advantage of," suggested the person on the phone.

"Of course, I'll keep an open mind. Thank you, sir."