Randy and Walter: Killers Part 15

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

She stared into Walter's eyes as she replied, "Yes. Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

Walter felt himself smile as she took his hand and led him towards the school parking lot. He saw he was being led to a small, two-door Ford something or other. Then he was sitting in the pa.s.senger seat. She handed him a cell phone and said, "Here, call your dad. Tell him you got a ride."

He took the small pink cell phone in hand and dialed his father's number. Within a minute he told his father he had a ride home and hung up the phone by pressing one of the b.u.t.tons after she showed him how. Then the car was steadily cruising along the road and leaving the school behind.

They had decided to go to Jordan's house instead of Walter's. He wanted to spend time with her and he didn't want to see Paul, so it seemed the best place to go. He knew that Paul would be there at his house soon enough.

It was a dangerous decision but he knew that Paul would figure out who he was with one way or another. He knew that Paul meant what he said. But at the time, Walter just didn't care. He just wanted an escape.

So now, here they were, sitting in the living room of Jordan's quiet house on a brown quilted couch. They were watching some reality show about some wife swappers. But they weren't really watching it. More or less, they were stealing glances at each other. Over the course of an hour, Walter found himself in love with this girl. He found what he wanted and it was her. Nothing but her. Everything else in his life seemed like an illusion. As if nothing had ever happened.

Then she was pulling him closer and he found himself kissing her with such fierceness and fiery pa.s.sion he thought he was going insane. He ran his hands along her body and found it alluring.

Her hands were running along his arms and then going into his s.h.i.+rt to caress his chest. He followed suit on her, and for the first time in his young life, he felt the softness of a breast and the warm body of a woman. In a way, while it seemed alien to him, he liked it. Her skin was smooth, except for a scar that ran along her back. The scar didn't horrify Walter, and he actually found it to be even more attractive.

Surely by now she had felt his own scar on his back that had been placed there by Paul during one of their s.e.x sessions. And then she did and she pulled away slightly, smiling at Walter as she put her hands along his face as if to say she understood. They soon began kissing again. She fell back on the couch, pulling Walter with her. She ripped his s.h.i.+rt off and he pulled hers off as well.

For the first time, Walter lost his virginity to a woman. When he was inside of her he felt as though he never wanted to be away from her. He wanted it to go on, to continue forever. Time had seemed to stop all around them and the world outside of their embrace seemed to fade away. All troubles washed away and for a time they were both truly happy.

Afterwards, they didn't sit awkwardly like the usual young couple who feel they shouldn't have gone so far. They were complete as if they had always meant to be together. The two lay together on the couch and fell asleep holding each other.

Walter awoke to the sound of a door being kicked in. He sat up quickly and heard Paul's voice angrily cursing and coming through the house towards the living room. He'd entered through the back door which was an even worse sign.

The sky outside was dark; it was night. Jordan was up and pulling on her clothes along with Walter. He'd been putting on his s.h.i.+rt and exiting the door when Paul entered the room, baseball bat in hand.

Walter looked at Paul who was now running at him. Jordan tried to intervene but was pushed aside. She fell to the ground and struck the floor with a loud smack that seemed to fill the house. Although scared, he was also angry. Walter stood his ground and looked at Paul with hatred in his eyes. Once Paul reached him, Walter grabbed his boyfriend by the collar of his s.h.i.+rt and punched him in the face.

Paul looked shocked, but then the shock went away and in its place, anger reared its head. Paul dropped the bat and punched Walter in the stomach and he immediately dropped to his knees gasping for air.

"I told you what would happen!" Paul screamed in Walter's face. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? One of my friends saw you leave with her. It wasn't hard to find out where she lives." He turned to pick the bat back up and noticed it was gone.

But then Jordan, who had picked it up, struck him in the groin with the bat. Paul scowled and dropped to his knees and the bat struck him in the back of the head. Paul's head seemed to bounce off the floor. The bat struck again and again and again; and one more time for good measure.

Walter looked up to see Jordan holding the bat firmly in her hands. She dropped it as if coming to her senses, realizing what she'd done. Blood was pooling around Paul's head and the white of shattered skull was clearly visible beneath the b.l.o.o.d.y scalp.

She fell backwards to the floor and put her head in her hands.

Walter looked at Paul's corpse and Jordan sobbing.

"I know what to do," he said to Jordan as he got to his feet. "Help me get him up."

It took her a minute but she eventually got to her feet and helped Walter drag the corpse to her car and pick it up and place it in the trunk. The darkness helped, no one from nearby homes was able to see what they were doing.

He went back inside and cleaned up the blood then he dropped the b.l.o.o.d.y rags into the trunk with Paul. "Let's go," he said simply.

Neither of them talked all the way to the Point. They didn't even talk when they were parked at the entrance to the path.

The two carried Paul's heavy body up the path, with Jordan holding his legs and Walter holding Paul's shoulders. They finally reached the Point and Walter removed Paul's shoes and pants, then on a count of three, they threw the corpse off the cliff. The b.l.o.o.d.y rags they burnt and watched as the ashes blew away. He wrote a letter in Paul's handwriting as best he could and left the suicide note on the edge of the cliff, using a fist-sized rock to prevent it from blowing away. The shoes and pants were left next to the note to show someone had been there. He found it amusing that the love note Paul had given him so many weeks ago was now the template Walter had used to forge Paul's writing.

"Will we get away with this?" Jordan finally asked as the two looked down at the water far below.

With a power he never knew he had within him, Walter replied, "Yes. Paul committed suicide. It ends here. If anyone asks anything that's what I'll say."

"Will anyone believe you?"

"Yes. They'll believe me."

"Why? Why will they believe you?"

"Simple. Paul killed his dad years ago. His mother covered it up. That's why he changed. He was truly a depressed and troubled kid. His mother can attest to that and so can I. n.o.body in school really knew him but me. His mom won't ask questions. If anything, she'll thank me. She was just as scared of him as I was."

"Are you glad?" Jordan asked, looking at Walter. She noticed his voice had changed. Something within those few minutes had changed Walter forever.

"Yes, I am. I regret you had to do it, though. I wish I'd been the one to do it."

Jordan's face was saddened and troubled by his words. She turned away from Walter and walked back to her car. She got in and drove away, leaving Walter staring down at the water below.

Walter watched the receding taillights of her car and then began the long walk home. He wasn't mad at her for leaving him, he understood completely.

The next day Jordan wasn't at school; she and her father had left town sometime during the night, leaving her house fully furnished. Walter wasn't in cla.s.s either, but he was at school. He was on top of the building, sitting along the side so he could look down at the students below. They're all like ants, he thought to himself while smiling. I wish I could just step on them all.

Something had changed in him after he saw Paul's head crushed like a ripe melon. Despite the blood and gore, he realized that somehow he liked it. When he had carried Paul's corpse and faked his suicide, he felt more powerful than he ever had in his life. He had also realized that he didn't care that he had been a part of Paul's murder. He hadn't gotten sick afterward, guilt hadn't troubled him, as he felt as though Paul deserved what he got.

He looked down, watching the ants below running from cla.s.s to cla.s.s as if anything they were doing was important, as if it mattered. They just didn't understand.

Walter had found his mark in the world, he'd found his pa.s.sion.

Jordan had run away, leaving Walter to clean up the mess.

A week later Paul's note and clothing was found, his body wasn't. Questions were asked for a while but they were soon dropped. Everyone seemed relieved that they didn't have to worry about Paul anymore. The problem had fixed itself.

Then Paul's mother was found murdered, a switchblade sticking out of her eye. She had been slashed apart by some nutcase on her way home from the market.

But then more deaths began.

Students disappeared and Walter wondered what was going on as the town lived in fear of the unknown killer.

It was night when Walter entered his bedroom to see that he had come back.

Paul was back from the dead.

Chapter 16.

Paul, at least he looked like Paul, stood in Walter's bedroom.

But it wasn't Paul. The eyes were different, less devious than Paul's had been. He was sitting on the edge of Walter's bed with a cigarette in his mouth and a knife in his right hand.

"h.e.l.lo, Walter. Where's the girl?" The man spoke in a devilish voice that seemed to be interrogating him.

"Who're you?" Walter asked quizzically.

"Call me Tim. Now where's the girl?" he repeated again as though Walter hadn't heard him the first time.

"Paul had a twin?"

"The girl!" Tim yelled ferociously, making Walter step back in fear.

"I don't know. She left."

Tim smiled and said, "If that's true that's too bad."

"What're you gonna do?" Walter asked while staring at the s.h.i.+ny blade in Tim's hand.

"Well...to be honest I'm gonna slit your throat. Then I'm gonna find that b.i.t.c.h and rip her head off," Tim breathed.

"Why?"

"You two killed my brother. He was mine to kill."

"What?"

"You think you're the only one Paul raped? You really think that?" He let out a heavy belly laugh and slapped his hand down on his knee.

"You mean he..."

"Yes!" Tim interrupted. "He did such terrible things to me! Didn't you ever wonder why he changed that year?"

"Well...Iawhy?"

"Because that wasn't him freshman year. It was me! But one night Paul had his way with me so I ran away. The following year he took my place at school." He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and held them towards Walter. "Would you like one?"

"No, I don't smoke."

"Take one. It won't kill ya. You might feel a bit better about this whole thing."

Walter took the pack and pulled out a soft white cigarette with a brownish b.u.t.t. Tim handed him a lighter as Walter handed him back the pack. He put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

The first drag was harsh and Walter started coughing almost immediately. He eyed the cigarette in his fingers and took another drag. The second wasn't as harsh and Walter was able to cover his cough a bit more. Somehow, he did feel a bit better. Lightheaded, but a bit better.

Tim continued. "As for me, I ran to the good ole N.C. and hid. I slept on the streets. After a while, my fear became anger and I decided to get revenge. So I came back. And what do you think I found after following Paul to that girl's house?"

Walter shook his head, not sure as to what Tim had seen.

"I saw you and that girl dumping my dead brother over a cliff," he laughed again. "After so long of waiting and now I wouldn't have my revenge all because some queer fell for a girl. Funny how that all works, huh?"

"Then you started killing people?" Walter asked as he took another drag of his cigarette. Tim looked into his eyes and smiled that devious grin Walter had come to know so well.

"No...first I went home. And guess what? That b.i.t.c.h of a mother thought I was Paul! You believe that? She forgot all about her other son! So I did what anyone would do."

"You killed her?"

"Oh...yes. I did kill her. Then what happened you might ask? Well...I found that I liked it. So I started killing others, too."

"So...what? You're gonna kill me now, too?"

"Yeah, I think I deserve to kill the man who killed my brother. So, are you ready?" Tim stood up and smiled. Walter began backing up to the door to his room, his hand going behind his back in search of something. He found it; the doork.n.o.b.

Then, before Tim could move, he opened the door and ran out.

Tim watched for a second and whispered to himself, "Guess he's not." He made a low humming sound and ran after Walter.

Walter had reached the living room, and as he had pa.s.sed by the side table, he grabbed the cordless phone. He wished that his dad was there to help him. But for now, he would have to rely on the cops. He quickly punched in the number as he exited the house. The operator asked questions and he answered them as quickly as he could, then hung up the phone.

Behind him, he heard Tim coming up quickly, his boots slapping the ground. Walter turned to face the oncoming man with the knife in his hand. He drew the phone back and threw it at Tim's snarling face. It struck Tim straight in the forehead which broke the phone and sent Tim falling backwards. Walter heard the sirens. He looked backwards and saw two squad cars driving up behind him. Walter smiled and put his next plan into action. He looked at Tim as the man was standing.

"You liked being f.u.c.ked by your brother, didn't you, boy," he whispered only loud enough for Tim to hear. Walter's words infuriated Tim. He picked up his knife and started to run at Walter again, blood dripping down his cheek from a gash made by the phone.

They both heard the gun shot at the same time, followed by another and another after that. Tim's chest exploded in a spray of blood and he went forward as if he'd been standing on a catapult. He struck the sidewalk with blood splas.h.i.+ng away from his lifeless body. Walter stood staring at the corpse before him. Cops walked around Walter to the fallen body and he couldn't help but smile at the carnage around him.

The police asked him questions about who Tim was and what he wanted; why he was attacking him and Walter told them everything, except for the full truth. Later that night, Walter's father came home and saw what had happened. The town was feeling easy again. They had found their killer and he'd been put down like a mad dog.

The final day of high school, Walter turned and took one last long look at the high school. He made it, he survived high school. Somehow he felt as though he would never feel so happy again.

A week into summer, Walter received a phone call. Jordan was on the other end of the phone. She sounded upset. She was threatening suicide.

And Walter could have cared less. So, not wanting to hear her complaints, he hung up the phone on her crying voice.

A few days later she was found dead in an alley in Los Angeles. She had climbed to the top of a parking garage and jumped. Walter still could have cared less. His emotions had been killed off long ago.

It was after Paul's and now Tim's death that he realized just what he could do and get away with.

But at the time Walter didn't realize that perhaps if he'd cared just a little, and had taken the time to talk with Jordan about Paul's death, tried to help her with her guilt, maybe the haunting would have never begun.

Chapter 17.