Page 114 of Her Last Whisper
But then he became winded and seemed to calm down.
“You’re tougher than you look, Detective. Oh, but did I read that you were in the army? Makes sense. But I’m afraid that your career is coming to an end. I’ve never killed a veteran before. Sounds like fun.”
Katie tensed and was ready for the next assault—assuming it was going to be a stomp kick to her throat or her head.
Instead, Randy let out an anguished yell. He stormed about the house talking to himself and fueling his anger.
Katie heard him walk toward the hidden room. He began to curse out the wounded semi-conscious woman on the bed.
“It’s your fault!” he yelled. “Why did you have to be so special? That wasn’t in the plans. I was just going to let you go… Well… maybe not!” he yelled, half laughing and half seething in anger.
Katie heard a loud bang and another one against the wall, like the entire house was going to tumble down on top of them as he beat the walls with his fists. Then all was quiet. There were strange splashing sounds and the smell of gasoline permeated the air, and she realized what he was doing. Dark memories gripped her once again.
Smoke filled her nose and clouded her vision. The smoke. The fire savagely consuming the bodies. Death was everywhere. Few were left alive—bleeding—missing limbs—pleading for help.
Her mind spun. There was nothing she could do… she couldn’t save them… it was human life… they mattered… there was nothing she could do…
She could save the woman in the torture bedroom. She had to. With every ounce of strength garnered in her body, Katie rolled onto her side. Blood was seeping through her clothes. She moved her arm slowly, inching it towards the small remote hidden on her waist. If she could just press it, she knew that Cisco would do everything he could to find her. The remote had a range of about a quarter mile. She had no other choice but to deploy him—and hope for the best.
Find me, Cisco…
Most of her strength crept back and she sat up, still hearing the rampage in the hidden room. Desperately looking around for something to defend herself, she saw garbage, straws, a doorknob, and old tattered baseboards. She heard the distinct crackle of fire. It reeked of the accelerant. Smoke began to billow from the room through the small opening. She was terrified that he had doused the woman with the gasoline.
Katie pulled her legs underneath her and pushed herself up, dizzy at first, but she managed to stumble into the kitchen area, holding her side, searching for anything—a knife, a frying pan, anything to fight him. In the corner, leaning against the wall, was a three and half foot long metal bar with a hook on the end used to open high windows.
She grabbed the pole, gripping it tightly, making fixed fists around the metal; feeling her balance return to about ninety percent, she crept toward the opening of the room.
Katie dared to look inside, where she watched in horror: Randy was panting for breath, standing in the middle of the room watching two of the walls begin to burn. As sweat dripped from his face the flames crept higher.
Without hesitation, Katie ran full speed into the room and swung the metal pole aiming for his stomach. It struck Randy in the arm and knocked him down against another wall leaving a large dent behind where his head had struck.
Katie took a fighter’s stance and swung again downward, hitting Randy in the shins.
He screamed in pain, huddling over his wounded legs.
Her adrenalin spiked and she wanted to beat him unconscious—a strike for every woman he made a victim. Her head pounded. As she regained her stance, she hesitated, and tried to strike him again. Her hesitation was all that he needed, he lunged at her, taking her down like a linebacker on the field. They struggled as the flames began to build momentum.
Truth…
Sixty-Seven
A searing headache permeated throughout McGaven’s skull, causing him to puke several times. He moved his arms and legs until he could push himself up and into a standing position. A few seconds passed before he realized where he was and that Katie was all alone.
He cursed himself for allowing someone to sneak up on him.
As he took a step forward, he groped for his weapon which amazingly was still in its holster.
Cisco ran at him, barking nonstop and running circles around him, waiting for a command.
Smoke filled the air and he realized that there was a house on fire.
Katie…
“Find her!” McGaven yelled. “Find her!” he yelled again. He realized that Katie must’ve pressed the release button for the back door of the cruiser. She was in trouble.
The dog barked again, gave McGaven one last look, and took off at full pelt, leaping over several tall bushes and scaling a fence before running at full speed down the street and disappearing from view.
McGaven followed as fast as his legs would carry him, stumbling every couple of feet, his head still spinning—probably suffering from a minor concussion. He knew that Cisco would beat him to the house, but he ran as fast as he could to get to Katie.
