Chapter VII

Kate awoke with a pounding headache. The sunlight pounded her eyes, so she opted to keep them shut and collect her thoughts. That’s when she remembered the man who had attacked her and proceeded to chase her for over two miles. Her eyes flew open and panic wracked her nerves instantly.
She looked around and found herself in a truck.
“What the fuck is going on?” she thought as she examined her situation.
She looked out the window and saw that she was at a rest stop somewhere. She saw that a seat belt was holding her in place and jumped when she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that there was a man sleeping in the back seat. She screamed, thinking of the events that had taken place, and the man shot up. As she struggled to undo her seat belt, his hands clasped securely around her mouth.
“Stop!” he yelled at her as she continued to struggle. Her mind raced with panic, and stopping was the absolute last thing she was going to do. She bit hard into his hand, which caused him to yelp in surprise and retract the digit, which had begun to bleed.
Kate freed herself from the seat belt and opened the door, taking off at a dead run. The man bolted after her and proved to be much quicker than she remembered from the night before. She didn’t get very far from the truck when she felt her feet being kicked out from under her. A cloud of dust billowed into her face as she hit the ground, and the man straddled her back and forced her flailing arms down.
“So, this is how I’m going to die,” she thought. Her mind wandered back to the book on her lap a few days ago.
“Suicide”
Even though she’d wished for death, hoped for it, prayed for it … now, in this moment, she didn’t want to go. Not here, not like this.
She could feel his hot breath on her ear as he said something to her. Her mind was racing too fast for her to comprehend his words, and she continued to struggle with everything she had left.
Then, a firm slap to the back of her head dazed her enough to make her go limp, but not unconscious. Her mind swirled as she lay there. She braced herself as best she could, expecting to feel his hands start tearing the clothes from her body. But they did not, and she wondered what he was going to do.
“Look, bitch, I’ve had a bad fucking night, and I don’t need your shit right now,” he said with such a command in his voice that she was captured, unable to fight back. He continued.
“Now, if I let you up, will you please not try and run again? Wait … No. Better yet, if you try to run again, you’re just going to really piss me off, and you don’t want that, okay?”
Kate nodded her head, and felt the pressure on her back lessen. She rolled over and looked at the man kneeling over her. Her first impulse was to kick him in the balls and take off, but she noticed something different about the man. Something very different, indeed. He was tall, he was handsome. This wasn’t the man who was chasing her last night.
“Who are you?” she asked him.
“My name is Henry. Henry Burns.”
“Alright … what are you doing here?”
“I saved your ass last night.”
Kate paused. She didn’t want to remember last night, but she did wonder how exactly he’d saved her. Before she could start again, he was questioning her.
“Now, who are you?” he said, staring right at her exposed left breast. She followed his gaze to his subject of interest, flushed and quickly pulled the remainder of her blouse over herself.
“Stop looking at that, you fucking pervert!” she shrieked. The fact that he blushed and turned away relieved her. She knew, undeniably, that this was not the same man from last night.
Henry rose to his feet, and bent to pull Kate to hers. As she dusted herself off, he took off his jacket and offered it toward her.
“Thanks,” was all she could think of to offer back as she gingerly accepted the jacket. “My name is Katherine. Now, do you mind explaining what is going on here?”
“I’d like to know that myself,” he replied.
Henry steadied Kate as they walked and recounted the event from the night before to her, emphasizing his “strategic” attack on the man that was chasing her. As he finished, she looked up into his face and saw the same look she‘d seen on the faces of countless cops and ex-boyfriends - conceit. She secretly cursed the fact that, thus far, the only people she’d run into were a rapist/murderer and a self-absorbed prick.
“So, pretty lady,” he continued, “what brings you here?”
Kate could tell that he was trying to be friendly with the remark, and though she thought it was cheesy, it did help to ease her nerves.
“I saw a news report over CNN by a man in Lake Charles, and seeing how there’s been no one else around, I figured it was in my best interest to try to make contact with him. Speaking of which, where is everyone?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I was hoping maybe you knew something about it, because you and ape-man over there are the only two people I’ve actually come across since seeing the same newscast.”
At the mention of the “ape-man,” Kate followed Henry’s pointing finger towards a ridiculous looking figure lying on the ground with his hands and feet tied together behind his back. When she caught a glimpse of the rage in his eyes, she immediately recognized him as the man that had chased her for so long last night. Instinctively, she backed into Henry’s arms, which she was surprised to find wrapped around her.
She was even more surprised to find that she felt safe, comfortable in them. She didn’t exactly know what to think of this man, but there was something about him …
Kate removed herself from his embrace and blushed as looked him in the eyes. She had always hated people thinking of her as a damsel in distress, and here she was, practically fainting into this man‘s arms. She quickly composed herself.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said apologetically.
“I don’t mind, and don’t worry about it,” he said smiling. “He’s not going any where. I’m pretty good with knots and those are as secure as they’ll get.”
“Hey, asshole, you mind letting me up? My back’s fucking killing me since you left me like this all night, you prick!” the man said with unhidden animosity.
“Sure thing, buddy, just as soon as I start working on being retarded,” Henry replied.
Kate giggled, although it was a nervous one. Henry turned back to her, and guided her away from the truck until the man’s furious curses were nothing but high-volume gibberish.
“Who the hell is that guy? Why was he chasing you last night?” Henry asked.
Kate hesitated a moment. She took a deep breath and thought about how her head was killing her. She looked up at Henry, and decided to go ahead and answer him. After all, he had saved her from the same fate as the girl in the car. She owed him the truth.
She told him everything that had happened, from the point of her finding the girl‘s body. She explained that as she was leaving the scene the man grabbed her from behind and started fondling her and tearing at her blouse. In the struggle, she had managed to get away from him, but he didn’t give up and chased her to the rest stop.
Kate wasn’t sure if she should tell him about what the man had done to the dead girl, but she’d already gone this far. She told him about what the body had looked like, what it meant and how her assailant had referred to it as “his art” as he harshly spoke into her ear. As Kate continued, she noticed a shadow pass over Henry’s face. She really didn’t want to ask what they should do next, but she had to know.
“Well, Mr. Burns, what are we going to do with him?”
“It’s Henry … and I’m going to kill the twisted prick,” he said.
This startled Kate and before she could realize what she was saying, the words were out of her mouth. She had already told him no.
Henry stopped in midstride as he walked toward Long, turned to her and ask, “What? You want me to let him go?”
She took a step back at the thought of the man up and moving again. She thought of how those dirty hands had maliciously passed over her body and quickly shook her head.
“No, of course not. But we can’t just kill him, it’s wrong.”
Henry looked her in the eyes and walked back toward her. Under his gaze, Kate felt as if she might turn to stone.
“I … I don’t think I could be a part of that,” she stammered. “I … um … I … I won’t do it.”
Henry gestured toward the vehicle as he responded in a horribly cold tone:
“Then, get in the truck and don’t watch.”
She watched as Henry took her assailant by the rope connecting his hands and feet and dragged him behind the restrooms. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard Henry’s words proclaiming his abhorrence towards child molesters.
Then, there was the sound of a fist connecting squarely with a head.
Again.
And again.
When the sounds turned to a soft, wet, sucking noise she decided to take his advice and wait in the truck.