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Laura Kimber was the Police Academy’s best and brightest. She would outperform, outscore, outrun, and over shadow any male cadet. She was smart, articulate and was part of the new future.
On August 3rd, just before midnight, all of that future nonsense came to a complete halt. Nothing could ever change when reality hits and stays for the long haul. A crack of broken glass made her jerk upright and peer through the darkness that was 1717 Ella Grasso Drive. She heard the crackling sound of glass again. She froze, motionless, weapon drawn but by her hip, not fearful because she was a trained professional, but resentful for not apprehending the serial killer that escaped her grasp only a few days earlier. That mistake created the 1717 Ella Grasso Drive crime scene.
The serial killer’s latest victim was Denise Soto. She was probably held captive for a few days, killed earlier, and then dumped behind 1717.
Soto had been strangled with a piece of cord from a toaster or an iron, and then brutally disemboweled with a carpenter’s blade. She sustained over twelve deep slices to her chest and abdomen. Detective Laura Kimber realized that this only suggested a level of violence and intensity that could only come from a deranged sociopath.
She heard disturbing noises coming from the WentField Park directly across 1717. That park had succumbed to neglect and overgrowth. It was once filled with disgust, dirt and a large homeless population.
Kimber had moved quickly into the overgrowth, but she was forced to slow down. The overgrowth was thick and tangled, ripping at her face, her hair, her hands and her uniform. She reached for her flashlight and when she turned it on, the beam was quickly swallowed up in the fetid darkness. She had to fight off the stench that was trapped in her nostrils. That stench was cloying, a rancid dampness mixed with rotting flesh. She moved deeper into the brush. The overgrowth was thicker all the time, the putrid stench more intense. Then she came to a clearing that was once a basketball court.
There was a sense of movement, and then a rush of reality chilled her to the bone. Bodies were stacked on a park bench like driftwood. Her thoughts descended deeper and deeper into cold darkness. She had begun to doubt her training and her professionalism. Fear suddenly seemed to energize her body. The dead wasn’t what frightened her, it was the living. There was someone there with her.
Kimber’s thoughts were hollow as they billowed deeper into her mind. She was transfixed. Her eyes shone with intensity and fear that really shook every ounce of her tiny frame. She felt a chill envelop her which felt odd in the hot August heat.
The deranged serial killer spoke softly. His voice was hollow in the darkness. He took a menacing step forward. There was a twinge of sympathy coming from the killer as he realized what he had to do. He looked at the bodies piled up on the bench and knew that after he did away with the young detective, he’d have to clear the bodies too; but first things first.
The steps toward her seemed endless but certain. Kimber slowly turned to him and what he saw made him stop in his tracks. He quickly looked for a place to take cover, anything that would shield him from what was coming. However, there was no place to hide. Kimber emptied her police issue revolver into the serial killer without a moment of hesitation.
That night the code amongst detectives kicked into full gear. A gun was shot twice into an old willow tree and then placed directly into the palm of the serial killer. It was the showing of police colors and they were going to make it stand in court.
The future for Detective Laura Kimber was going to be the same old, same old. And yet for all the swagger and bravado tendered by the board of directors and police commissioner amounted to Jack. Protect yourself and protect the public and if that was something alien and unnatural, fuck it.
© 2013 Frank Atanacio