

# The Healy Murders

By Rodney Mountain

Copyright © 2002 Rodney Mountain

Smashwords First Revision © 2011 Rodney Mountain

Second Revision © 2017 Rodney Mountain

Discover other titles by Rodney Mountain at smashwords.com.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return toSmashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other Titles by Rodney Mountain

Immortal Universe Novels

  * The Accidental Immortal

  * Undercover

  * The Killer Strikes

  * Anoki's Revenge

  * The Immortal Progression

  * Corporate Immortality

  * Not With A Whisper

  * The Mullinix: Ascension

  * The Mullinix: Redemption

  * The Mullinix: Resolution

Other Works

  * Durell's Insurrection

  * Night Strike (Short Story Anthology)

  * The Black Fossil

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all of the people who have worked on encouraging me to finish what I started. Through all the versions and the rewrites and the questions about minute things, all of you are the reason this book and the others were completed. Therefore, the dedication of this book goes to all of you who suffered through my endless prattling while trying to get this book created.

I'd like to make a special dedication to two people in particular, however, two people that have had to sit through more of this than anyone else on the planet:

My wife, Jennifer, who has to listen to me rattle on with what I'm doing even though the stories are nowhere near what she'd normally read on her own. Thanks for putting up with it for all these years.

And to Chris Barnes, generally known on the net as Rael, thanks buddy for sitting through my endless talking about these books. I don't think I've ever written anything longer than ten pages without spilling out the plot to him in some rite of passage that is pretty well akin to mental diarrhea.

Without them and the countless others who have expressed support for my writing over the years this book would not be where it is today. Thank you all.
_Prologue_

_June 24, 1996, 11:00 pm_

Chris looked around the dark graveyard, wondering why he was back in this damned place. His wife and two others, a young blonde woman and an older man whose little remaining had gone completely gray, accompanied him. His wife walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Chris?" she asked him, her manner quiet but the trembling apparent in her tone.

"I have to know," Chris said, his tone hard and determined, "I need to ensure that this is merely a part of my past."

"We all need to know," the older man said, "Jerry Healy is a scar that will never heal, but one that we all need to learn to live with."

"Do you think that seeing your brother's body again will stop the nightmares?" the blonde asked him incredulously.

"It's a start," Chris said, "after what he did to your family I'd think you'd want to make damned sure that he is dead."

"I thought you made sure of that ten years ago," she countered.

"If you didn't want to see it then why did you come along?" Chris's wife asked her.

"I didn't say I didn't want to see it," the blonde sighed, "I just wish this would go away."

"That's what this trip is all about," the old man said as he put a calming hand on her shoulder, "putting the past to rest."

The four walked quietly through the cemetery, careful to not let the tools they were carrying clank together. It was a particularly dark summer night and the moon was nowhere to be seen. They purposely chose the new moon for the task, primarily to ensure that they would not be caught.

They went to the low rent section of the cemetery, which was where the remains of the Healy family were laid to rest ten years before.

The stones were actually decent, since the Healy family had not been completely destitute. There was a mid-sized gray headstone for the plot and three smaller ones for each of the people buried under it.

The one on the right side was the one that they were there for. Chris looked long and hard at the stone with his brother's name carved in it. Due to the notoriety and pain that Jerry Healy had caused the stone had been vandalized numerous times. Many hateful things were written all over the stone, almost obscuring the name and date.

"Jerome Healy," the old man said as he read the stone, "1970 to 1985. It's hard to believe that he caused all this pain and never made it past the age of fifteen."

"Be glad," Chris said bitterly, "if he'd lived to the age of sixteen he'd have been more famous than Dahmer or Bundy."

"Not to mention that we'd probably all be dead," the blonde said.

"Chris," his wife began, "you're not seriously going to go through with this are you?"

"Yes," he replied quietly, "I need to be sure."

The old man put his finger to his lips and shook his head at the younger woman. He knew that Chris had to work through these demons. It did not hurt that he, himself wanted to know for sure as well. He had seen most of the hell that Jerry Healy had caused, and wanted to make sure that the kid stayed in his box.

Chris looked at the ground for another second and shoved his spade into the cold, damp earth. The old man nodded and took his spade as well, helping as best as he could.

It took two hours, with Chris doing most of the work towards the end, but finally Chris hit the concrete shell of the coffin.

"Looks like we got there," the old man said.

"I think so," Chris agreed, "let me clear it off."

By the time Chris had cleared enough dirt off the coffin to allow it to be opened it was nearly two in the morning. He was tired, and still a little unsure of what he was doing. He stared at the casket that was supposed to contain the mortal remains of his brother and wondered just what he would find inside.

"Are you going to open it, Chris?" the old man asked.

Chris did not have an answer yet. Just being this close to his brother gave him the willies. A flood of memories was hitting him. Good ones, bad ones and downright horrific memories were just overwhelming him. He had to think about what his brother had done and about how life had been before Jerry decided to start killing people.

His brother had not always been a maniac, he knew, he had become one. Many things had brought him down the path that he'd taken but no one thing had ever stood out. He tried to think of the good things he'd done with his brother, tried to remember the good times instead of the bad ones. Unfortunately the last few weeks of his brother's life had well outweighed the good years.

Chris stood there transfixed as he continued to think about the events that had led his brother to his death and changed his own life, as well as the lives of the other people here with him forever.
Chapter 1: About the Brothers

1970-1985

Christopher and Jerome Healy were born approximately twelve minutes apart on January 29, 1970, a set of fraternal twins. Their parents named them after each of their long deceased grandfathers, Christopher Alexander Healy and Jerome Kuliches. Just as the Irish and Polish sides of their families often differed greatly, Chris and Jerry were very different as children.

Chris grew tall and large very quickly, usually towering at least two inches above the other boys and girls in his age group. Jerry was just the opposite, remaining relatively small and wiry, though fit for his size. Neither one of the boys were considered standouts in the looks department, though they were nowhere close to hideous.

Unlike most brothers they got along well most of the time. It was not so much what they had in common as much as how their differences simply fit in together. Chris would read or write stories, while Jerry would sit in the other corner and work on his drawings. They both shared an artistic side, though Chris' was expressed with words while Jerry's flowed from the tip of a drawing pencil.

Their personalities could not have been more different, either, but this too usually worked out for the best. Chris was calm, collected and easy-going for the most part. Jerry was hotheaded, quick to anger and eager to try anything. It was as if they were two sides of a whole most of the time, with Jerry egging Chris on and Chris keeping Jerry from doing anything too stupid.

Their room alone showed the difference between their two very different personalities. They had shared the room for their entire lives. The side by the door belonged to Chris and the far side was Jerry's.

Chris's half was covered with posters of rock stars and the three stooges. Jerry's side was filled with his drawings to the point that Chris hadn't seen the paint on that side of the room in years.

Their home life was average, though far from perfect. Their parents had married early, soon after high school. In the early years of their marriage they did well with the kids, but the home was fracturing towards the middle of the eighties, leaving the kids caught in the middle.

Juliana Healy was a true modern woman, finding strength as she moved towards middle age. She had started selling real estate and was developing a life away from Joe Healy, who was the manager of a local hardware store.

Joe Healy tried to be supportive, but it became more and more of a strain. By the time the Healy brothers were teenagers the union of Joe and Juliana was beginning to truly fracture.

On top of the issues at home one of the problems was Jerry's declining position in the school hierarchy. While Chris was tolerated (though blessedly ignored) by the power elites at school, Jerry was often the whipping boy for them. They all took an irrational dislike to the artistic boy for reasons that were unknown to everyone but them.

Girls were another issue that went difficult for both Jerry and Chris. Chris handled it normally, with the usual reticence, but Jerry had a morbid fear of most girls. He also had a serious crush on one, the extent of which Chris only later began to learn.
Chapter 2: February 2, 1985

And We Dance

Chris and Jerry arrived at the dance about twenty minutes late, which was about par for them. Their parents were on the outs again, as was becoming more and more the norm, so they had to walk to the dance, about a mile and a half from the house.

They were wearing their usual clothes and much to their mother's chagrin they did not vary them much. Chris was in his old blue hooded sweatshirt that he had been wearing nearly every day for over four years, with blue jeans and combat boots completing his ensemble. Jerry wore his standard gray winter jacket and dark jeans. Neither one was particularly well dressed for the cold, but they were used to it.

"Do you think she'll be here tonight?" Jerry asked his brother.

"Probably," Chris shrugged, "I overheard Cookie Morris talking to Scott Adler about the dance. I believe I heard them say that Annie was going to be here. I don't know if she'll be alone or not, but she's probably here."

The two of them walked over to the refreshment counter and paid too much for two lukewarm imitation colas. They drank a little of them and winced as an adult normally would do after taking a shot of whiskey. They then went over to their usual spot about fifty feet away from the DJ's podium and started talking about normal useless things.

"Jerry," Chris said to his brother, "you at least going to ask Annie to dance this time?"

They had been going to these dances for over two years and Jerry had never managed to ask the object of his affection to dance. Chris was not much better, but at least he did go dancing occasionally. Jerry had never danced with anyone.

"Maybe," Jerry said nervously, shifting a little, "Jeez, I don't know. Maybe if she doesn't walk in with that slime ball Mikklechek again."

"Screw Mikklechek," Chris said quietly, though he caught a disapproving look from a nearby teacher, "You've had the hots for Annie Jenkins for two years now. Go for it!"

The thought of asking a girl to dance completely mortified Jerry Healy. Chris could do little but sigh as he watched his brother recoil at the thought of putting himself out that far, despite the fact that he hated Jack Mikklechek

Jerry had been infatuated with Annie Jenkins for years. He truly worshipped the ground that she walked on. Chris had never understood it really. Annie was cute, but not the hottest girl in school. It might have been just the fact that she hadn't treated him as bad as the rest of the girls did.

"Still," Jerry said, and then Chris cut him off.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Chris shrugged, "last Carrie heard they've been on the outs for two weeks. She heard that Annie caught him down necking with Betty Millon down at the pond."

"That scum!" Jerry said through clenched teeth, his eyes barely short of being completely psychotic, "I should tear his eyes out. He had a chance with a girl like that and he blew it for a slut like Betty Millon. What a stupid..."

"True," Chris shrugged and cut off the dangerous line of thought, "no need to go after the idiot though. That slut, as you so subtly refer to Betty, has cleared the way for you to go up and ask her to dance."

Chris was trying his best to hold a straight face as he told his brother this, but it was no use really. Chris still did not see what his brother saw in Annie. Jerry wasn't quite ready to make the leap of faith, however.

"I still don't know," Jerry said, still very unsure, "She is the most beautiful girl in school. I don't know if I have a chance with her."

Jerry was looking around and shuffling a little. Chris was more relaxed in this setting and leaned against the wall sipping on his horrid imitation cola. Chris was able to think of plenty of prettier girls, but to Jerry she was the only girl in the world.

"Jerry, there is no way in hell you are going to know for sure if you don't at least ask her to dance," Chris said, deciding to give his feeble attempt at encouragement for the night, "I mean, what the hell is life good for if you don't take a chance once in a while? Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't. If it does, then great, everything worked out. If it doesn't then screw it, tell her to go to hell and move on."

"Easy for you to say," Jerry said with a smile, "you haven't had feelings for a girl for more than two weeks."

"Maybe not," Chris admitted and grinned evilly, "but at least I've danced with one."

That stopped Jerry short and pretty well ended the conversation. The Healy brothers continued mingling around the room, with Chris making the rounds and Jerry retreating a little. He still was not particularly welcome in most of the cliques that Chris tended to at least breeze on the outside of with some limited success.

They bought two more putrid imitation colas and were having as much fun as was humanly possible in the oppressively organized school dance environment. The teachers and principals walked around trying to make sure that the young people's hormones didn't get out of hand on their watch.

Things were going normally for the brothers, at least until Annie made an entrance into the room, walking along with some of her friends in the clique. She wasn't with any guy, however, making her for sure available. Jerry's jaw dropped as it usually did when she was anywhere in proximity to him. It was as if all conscious thought had stopped for him.

"You're in luck, bro," Chris said with a smile, "jack is nowhere in sight. She's here alone."

Chris prodded his brother along a little, trying to get Jerry to show some gumption and go ask the girl to dance. The worst that could happen was that she could say no. Unfortunately, Chris did not quite realize that for his brother that was the absolute worst thing that could happen.

"I can't," Jerry stammered, "I just can't do it."

"Why?" Chris asked him, almost ashamed at how big a wuss his brother was being, "She looks good, she's alone, and you have the hots for her! What more could you ask for you idiot?"

Chris figured that if encouragement did not work, then maybe getting his brother pissed off would. He had been watching this go on for years without any hint of resolution and it was driving him nuts. Jerry's eyes went wild, like they usually did when he was either pissed off or scared. Chris was not sure which one he was at the time, so he continued pushing.

"Come on, Jerry," Chris pushed, "get off your ass and show some of the balls that you have on the beach. At least go talk to her! The worst she can say is no!"

"I can't do it!" Jerry shouted at his brother, "I just can't do it you son of a bitch!"

Jerry pushed his brother against the wall, causing him to spill his crappy imitation cola on himself. He then barged into the bathroom and left his brother standing there to ponder the fact that they shared a mother. It didn't take long before he was getting the attention of a dozen pairs of eyes, including the vice-principal, Richard Nyhoff.

"Is everything all right there, Mr. Healy?" the principal asked Chris.

"Yeah," Chris nodded as he wiped himself off and tossed the cola in the trash, "no problem at all."

"See that it stays that way," Nyhoff said and turned to another batch of students.

"I'll try," Chris muttered and managed to refrain from flipping the bird to the principal.

Chris soon regretted having tried to push his brother at all. Jerry was just too afraid of her saying no to risk actually making the attempt. Chris went over to the soda stand and managed to talk the girl running concession into parting with a few napkins to clean off.

Chris was talking to the girl who was a year or so behind him when his longtime friend Jason Brigand came over and tapped him on the shoulder. Chris turned around and saw Jason make a face at him.

"Cradle robbing now, Chris?" Jason said with a grin as he put down his quarters for a soda, "I knew you were hard up, man, but it hasn't been that bad a night has it?"

"You don't want to know," Chris growled.

"You want lemon lime or cola?" the girl asked Jason, a mite annoyed at the interruption.

"Lemon lime doll," Jason said and turned back to Chris, "So where is your psycho brother?"

"You mean you didn't hear him?" Chris asked him, "Man, you've got to be the only fifteen year old hearing aid candidate I've ever met."

"Yeah," Jason nodded, "Mike Sanders told me about it. What was that display about?"

"Guess," Chris said bitterly, "same thing that happens every time he and I come to one of these damned things."

"Tried to get him to dance again," Jason said after taking a drink and growling at the can of soda, "didn't you?"

"You know it," Chris said, "I tried to get him to go ask her to dance."

"Who?" Jason asked.

"Who else?" Chris said, "The same girl he's been hooked on for over two years."

"He still has a thing for Annie?" Jason asked him incredulously, "I thought he'd have gotten past that by now."

"Nope," Chris said and shook his head sadly, "He's hooked through the bag. He can't even go within twenty feet of her and keep what few marbles he has left. Its nuts really, he has a serious crush on her and can't even muster up the courage to ask her to dance. I've lived with him all my life and still can't figure him out."

"Don't try," Jason shrugged, "Jerry has a few screws loose, just like you do, Chris. I'm not going to worry about it though. That's not why I came to find you anyway."

"More bad news?" Chris asked him.

"Not really," Jason shrugged, "Carrie is looking for someone to dance with Regina Michaels and I thought of you. You interested?"

"I might be," Chris said, "why aren't you doing it?"

"Not up for it," Jason grinned, "I've got other plans. Besides, I like playing matchmaker. What do you say?"

"Why not," Chris shrugged, "Jerry is probably in the bathroom for the duration anyway."

"Probably," Jason grinned and pushed his friend along, "get moving."

Chris shrugged off the concern for his brother. While Jerry was sulking alone in a stall in the bathroom Chris went out and joined Regina Michaels on the dance floor.

Carrie Caron, a long time friend of both Chris and Jason introduced Chris to the shy young woman and almost pushed them out to the dance floor.

For the next half an hour they danced to almost every eighties standard that you could think of. They bounced along with After the Fire's bastardization of Falco's Der Kommissar, did the robot to Gary Numan's Cars and danced fairly close to the last song of the night, Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven. Unfortunately, Regina spoiled the mood by asking questions about Jerry.

"Chris?" she asked carefully, unsure about herself.

"Yes," Chris said, "that's me?"

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Regina asked.

"Go for it," Chris smiled, "I don't bite."

"What is up with your brother?" she asked, her voice sweet as she did not know she was asking the impossible question of Chris Healy.

"What do you mean?" Chris asked her, trying to mask the hurt.

"He just doesn't seem normal," Regina said, "I don't know how to put it kindly, he's just a bit strange."

Chris knew it was an understatement, but he did not like the way that she had put it. What little chance there had been of something happening between the two of them was pretty well ended by that. He did not let it ruin the evening though and answered her question as best he could.

"Jerry is just a bit shy, that's all," Chris tried to explain, knowing it would be lost on her, "He has a hard time relating to people. He's really pretty cool when you get to know him."

She nodded as if she understood, but he knew that she never would. To be honest with himself, sometimes he had trouble understanding why Jerry had so many problems. Neither one said anything else after this, though they finished the song before parting ways.

Chris walked back up to the area by the concession stand and found Jerry standing and talking to Jason Brigand and Tommy Caron, the only people who would stand with Jerry in public, since their status on the high school social structure was only moderately higher than his.

"Having fun yet, Jerry?" Chris asked sarcastically.

"Up yours, bro," Jerry said since he was not having much fun and wasn't really willing to hide it at the time.

"No chance," Chris said, "where's Carrie hiding, Tommy?"

"She's keeping options open," Tommy shrugged, "trying to find out how your stock rose or fell tonight."

"Did anything good happen?" Jason asked him, "Any chemistry?"

"Details," Jerry said with his first smile in an hour, "gotta share, brother."

"There weren't any, really," Chris said, "we didn't really click all that well."

Chris knew that Jerry was interested and wanted him to score, if only because he could live the details vicariously through his brother. Chris really was not interested in her though, if only because of the clique that Regina ran with. She could never understand Chris well enough to make it worthwhile.

"That sucks man," Jerry said, disappointed.

"I guess I misfired again," Jason said, disappointed.

"You did?" Tom said, "I thought my sister set this up."

"I helped," Jason grinned proudly, "let me have my moment, ok?"

"It wasn't all lost," Chris shrugged, "Most dancing I've done yet, guy."

"We need to head home," Jerry said, "dad told us to be back by ten."

"No worries," Chris said, "you've got the quarter to call him, right?"

"Nope," Jerry said, "you had it."

"I told you to hold on to one," Chris said.

"What do you think I bought my last soda with?" Jerry said.

"Looks like we've got to go," Chris said, acknowledging that they had no way to call home, "Thanks for the setup, Jason. Give Carrie my best as well."

"Take care," Tommy said, nodding agreement, "Its cold out there."

"You too," Chris said.

The walk home was mostly silent. Chris was still trying to figure out what he had done wrong in trying to get him to ask her to dance, but there was sometimes no figuring his brother out.

"I'm sorry guy," Chris said finally, "I didn't mean to push you so hard."

"Its cool," Jerry shrugged, "I overreacted. No big deal."

"You've gotta ask her someday, man," Chris said as they walked, "you're going to regret it if you don't."

"What if she says no?" Jerry asked him, mortified at the thought.

"What if she says yes?" Chris reminded him.

Jerry thought about that as they walked back to the house. Chris smiled and looked at his brother, wondering what was going through his head at the time.
Chapter 3: June 11, 1985

At The Beach

Jerry and Chris had just gotten out of school for the summer and it was the first day they were able to go out and spend time on the beach freely. Their parents were at work and they lived only about five minutes away from Willard Beach by bicycle.

It was early in the day and they had met several of their friends down on the beach, Tommy Caron and his twin sister Carrie along with the ever-present Jason Brigand.

The day had been going along, with all of them horsing around and performing the odd sandcastle demolition. One of their favorite pastimes was to take a running jump and flatten someone's sandcastle.

All of them took their turns at it, except Carrie, who really did not care to participate in the activity, preferring instead to watch it from afar.

"Take a look at that one, Chris," Jerry said excitedly as he saw a rather large and intricate sandcastle, "That one is just ripe, bro."

"You're insane Jerry," Chris chuckled as he pointed, "Do you see the big muscle-bound idiots that are watching those girls make their sand castle?"

"So?" Jerry asked, "What about them?"

"They'd tear you a new asshole," Tommy laughed, "I don't want any part of it. Not worth the risk."

"Come on!" Jerry pleased, "Look at it though... it's big and beautiful and it might as well have a huge circle on it with a red dot in the middle."

"And you might as well have a sign saying corpse," Carrie said dryly, "I think I'm going to go pay some of the girls a visit while you're busy getting pummeled."

Carrie walked off and flashed the boys a smile. Chris and Tommy knew better as Carrie would rather have been shot than waste time talking to the girls down the way from school. She took a position on the nearby monkey bars to watch because she knew that one or all of them would make the attempt.

"I'm not touching it," Jason said as he looked at the other three boys, "I have things to live for."

"I'm the smallest of all of us," Tommy, who stood barely five feet two inches tall, smiled, "I make a lousy cannonball."

"I say give it a pass," Chris said, "it's not worth the beating."

"Like hell it's not," Jerry said with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm going for it."

"Jerry," Chris said, "think about it for a minute."

"Fuck that!" Jerry said and then started a sprint towards the sand castle.

Chris, Tommy and Jason just stood there and watched him. They knew this wasn't going to end up well and they were praying that Jerry didn't get himself hurt too badly by those older boys.

Jerry Healy put every ounce of energy he had into the run and launched himself as a human cannonball towards the large sand castle.

"That boy is insane," Jason said as he watched the display.

"Think how I feel," Chris said as Jerry's body made a perfect cannonball into the side of the sand castle, "I have to live with him."

"Poor bastard," Tommy said with a grin, "I'll take Carrie any day."

"No comment," Chris said and then turned back towards the sand castle destruction again.

Instead of running as he usually did, Jerry was pulled up out of the sand by one of the muscle bound morons. The other three boys thought about running, but they could not leave one of their own behind. They approached the area slowly to see what was going on.

Three muscle bound morons surrounded Jerry Healy. As Chris and the others approached they began to be able to hear the conversation that was occurring. It certainly was not pleasant. None of them looked happy.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the muscle bound idiot asked Jerry, "You just killed my girl's sand castle!"

Chris was able to tell that this group of muscle heads were not going to win any awards from MENSA. They were much bigger than Jerry, but no more than a couple years older. Chris, Tommy and Jason approached as they were slightly insulated from Jerry's insane action. Unfortunately, it looked like Jerry did not even want their help.

"You don't think he's going to do something stupid do you?" Tommy asked Chris.

"This is Jerry we're talking about here," Jason said.

"Of course he's going to do something stupid," Chris confirmed with a resigned sigh, "he always does."

"Screw you," Jerry said with a wide smile, proving his brother right.

It was the wrong thing to say, but it threw them off balance just enough to keep Jerry from being grabbed immediately. Jerry, being relatively small and light on his feet managed to dodge the initial lunge from the leader of the gang of idiots and side step him.

Chris thought his brother was about to have a spark of common sense and start running away. He had no such luck however, as Jerry decided to take out his trusty pocketknife and get behind the one who had initially rushed him. Everyone was surprised when Jerry managed to get the knife to the throat of the scared teenager.

Chris knew then that this had just gotten serious and rushed over. The idiot's friends weren't backing off, not knowing what Jerry Healy was capable of. They were all surprised, and the leader was not moving an inch for fear that Jerry's rusty blade would slice his throat.

"Hey," he said, "I didn't mean anything. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know," Jerry said coldly, an ice stare forming in his eyes, "Now you're not going to do anything ever again."

Carrie Caron immediately recognized the look in Jerry's eyes and jumped down from her position on the monkey bars to run over to them. She waved off the muscle head's friends to try to defuse the situation. She looked at Chris and then back at Jerry.

"Let him go, Jerry," Carrie said softly, "he isn't worth it."

"She's right," the guy whimpered, "I'm nothing. I'm navel lint."

"Put it down Jerry," Chris said, trying not to chuckle at the navel lint comment, "Let him go."

"Why?" Jerry asked his brother.

"You heard him," Carrie said, "the guy is navel lint. Look at him. He even wet his shorts."

If the situation had not been so serious they all would have had a good laugh at the wet spot in the muscle head's pants, but this was no laughing matter. Chris and Carrie had both seen the look in Jerry's eyes. They wanted to get this over with without a death.

"This isn't worth it, Jerry," Chris said, "listen to her."

"Come on, Jerry," Carrie said again, trying to remain calm and not push him over the cliff, "Let him go before we all regret what happens next."

After a few tense moments Jerry finally relented and let the muscle head out of his grip and put the knife back in his pocket. He managed to astound all of them when he got up and started walking away as if nothing had happened, leaving his brother and his other friends behind to ponder what happened.

"Did that really just happen?" Chris asked Carrie, "Did my brother nearly kill that guy?"

"I don't want to think about it," Carrie said, "I think I need a coke."

"I second that," Tommy nodded, "you buying, sis?"

"Yeah," she said as she breathed a deep breath, "you want one, Chris?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, and knew damn well that this was going to be an ominous beginning to the summer.
Chapter 4: September 4, 1985

A New School Year

Surprisingly, the rest of the summer went off without any further major incidents, though the incident at the beach would later return to Chris Healy's mind as the beginning of the changes in his brother.

It was the start of another glorious school year, or at least that is what Juliana Healy told her boys. Neither one particularly agreed with the sentiment. They went through and did what they had to do, but neither one particularly enjoyed it. It was an annoyance in their eyes, little more.

Chris, Jerry and Tommy Caron were standing outside of their first class, which they had managed to get together. Nobody looked particularly happy to be back. It was not even new anymore. Their second year of high school was looking to be just as bad as the first, though they were not completely at the bottom of the totem pole anymore.

"At least we haven't had anything thrown at us yet," Tommy said as he watched the people pass.

"Don't remind me," Chris groaned, "remember the seniors last year? What was it they were throwing?"

"Day old donuts," Jerry frowned, as he remembered being pelted with dozens of them, "I hear they're using some form of silly putty this year."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Chris muttered.

The conversation was about to continue when the teacher passed them. Regina Vasquez was not your average, ordinary teacher. She was five foot seven inches of total body. She looked like she could have stepped right out of the pages of a playboy magazine, golden blonde hair, long legs and a firm and supple bust. She had only been in the school about three years and was already one of the most popular teachers there.

Jason Brigand walked up to his friends and saw the expressions on his friends' faces. He merely chuckled as he always did when he saw this. Finally he waved his hand in front of Chris Healy's eyes and managed to bring him back to reality. Tommy and Jerry were a little slower to return.

"Man," Jason said, "you'd think Paulina Porizkova herself had just walked naked in front of you."

"Not yet," Tommy said with a grin, "but give me time."

They all laughed at that one. Jason merely shook his head.

"She's worth the staring," Chris said, "that's for sure. Why don't you stare?"

"Not my type," Jason shrugged, "but you've got an hour to stare. All four of us are in her Spanish class first period this year."

"What?" Tommy asked, "How do you know? My sheet just has the classroom number."

"You should talk to your sister more often, Tommy," Jason smiled, "she managed to find out where all of us are. She's stuck in old Señorita Bradley's class. So we get eye candy for first period while Carrie gets to endure hell."

They all knew what Jason meant. They had endured Spanish I with Señorita (a title whose irony never failed to strike them) Bradley, which they had all considered hell on earth. They had learned little and endured the 70-year-old woman's endless rambling lectures. It seems that they were finally trying to phase out Bradley's classes and give them over to Miss Vasquez.

"Dude," Chris said excitedly, "this is gonna be damned cool!"

"Yeah," Jerry said as his mind was going off into other directions.

The first period bell rang and the four boys went into the room, taking desks near the front of the room, Jerry on the far left, Chris next to him, one over. Tommy was sitting in the front and center seat with Jason Brigand bringing up the right side. It was already looking to be a good year.

"Welcome back, everyone," Regina Vasquez said with a bright smile as she looked over her first class of the new year, "we've got a lot of work to do, and a lot of things to cover, but don't worry. We've got plenty of time and it will be fun too. We will be continuing what you learned last year and expanding on it..."

Regina Vasquez kept on with her usual first day speech, but the boys were not even listening by this point. They were simply watching her move. Even Jason, who did not have much interest in her, was watching.

It was still passably warm outside and she was wearing clothes that were rather tight and showed her pleasing form very well. It was enough to make the average horn ball teenage boy drool, and drool they did, every single one of them in the room.

Jerry was seeing things differently than everyone else, however. He had been alone and ignored so long that his fantasies were a bit more vivid. He had had an active fantasy life for a while, but it was getting more vivid by the day. His keen artistic eye was noticing every curve on this woman and he was becoming less and less able to control himself.

Jerry Healy was also missing a key element in his personality, the element of restraint. Chris and other friends had seen the look in his eyes before, when he'd tempt the fates in ways that were dangerous or just plain stupid. If Chris had not been too busy daydreaming about this hot teacher he might have actually recognized the look in his brother's eye.

The lecture continued with the same amount of interest. Most of the boys were staring fixedly at Regina Vasquez's tits. Jason was about the only one of the boys that was still managing conscious thought and he looked over two seats at Jerry, who was sitting back with that confident smile of his that Jason knew meant he was about to do something.

The girls in the room were listening intently, ignoring the boys who were not about to learn a thing. Finally, after getting a little sick of talking she walked up to the rows of desks and started picking on people. She ignored the front row, which she did not expect much from, and walked in between Jerry and Chris Healy, stopping right between them.

"Miss Morris," Miss Vasquez said to Cookie Morris, "what is the Spanish word for red?"

Cookie never had a chance to answer, because Jerry Healy's right hand shot up and started fondling Regina Vasquez's left breast. He actually got a few good grabs in before she stepped back and clocked him a good one, knocking him out of the desk and on to the floor.

Chris looked in amazement at his brother. It was something that every boy in the room had thought about, but none were stupid enough to actually do. The fact that Jerry had actually done it shocked the hell out of him.

Vice Principal Frank Carter had been walking the halls looking for stragglers when he heard the commotion in the classroom. The other students were just sitting there in shock, not sure they had witnessed what they had just witnessed.

"What the hell is going on here?" Frank Carter asked the stunned classroom.

Regina Vasquez was crying and called Jerry Healy every name in the book, including quite a few that should never have come out of a mouth that lovely, especially in front of a classroom of teenagers. Some in the room were shocked that she even knew a few of those words.

"What do you have to say for yourself young man?" Frank Carter asked Jerry.

Jerry Healy was leaning against the wall and smiling up at the glaring principal through a marginally bloodied smile. He was singularly unrepentant over his action and frankly did not see what the fuss was about.

"Why not?" Jerry asked, still smiling, "She just parades around in these skimpy outfits just begging for it. Why should she care if someone actually takes her up on the offer?"

It took all of Frank Carter's will and might to keep from belting the boy across the mouth. Chris could not believe what he had just seen his brother do, let alone what had just come out of his mouth. Tom and Jason were finding the situation halfway funny, but they could see that Chris was mortified by the action his brother had just taken.

"Get to the office," Frank Carter said, still resisting the urge to knock Jerry out, "Right now!"

"Sure," Jerry shrugged and got up, dusting off his confidence and walking off.

"The rest of you had best stay here and stay quiet," Carter told them, "someone will be here in a few minutes."

As soon as Carter left the whole class was in an uproar. Chris was still in shock. This was the first time his brother had ever attempted anything this blatantly stupid where he could get caught. Tom and Jason sat there with him, trying to fend off the others.

"What the hell was he thinking?" Tommy asked.

"I don't think he was," Jason shrugged, "he is Jerry, after all."

Chris looked around at the other people in the room and just laid his head down on the desk. He just wanted the world to go away. At least he knew that he would not have to worry about his parents fighting that night. They would be testing out new methods of kicking Jerry's ass.

After about fifteen minutes one of the teacher's aides showed up to sit with the class, but all hope of the class being productive had flown out of the window. The aide simply kept them in line and let the class talk among themselves until the period bell rang.

Chris followed along with his friends and wondered what was going on with his brother. The year had begun all right, and it was a terrible beginning. What he did not know was just how bad it would finally get.
Chapter 5: October 27, 1985

Of Caves and Teenagers...

Chris Healy made the wise decision to be the invisible man during the period after his brother's incident with Miss Vasquez. There was nothing to be gained from defending his brother, nor did Jerry really expect it.

Jerry took his punishments, which included two weeks suspension from school and a month and a half of grounding at home, in stride. He spent most of his time, unrepentant, in his half of the room drawing. There was not going to be a repeat of the incident, as Jerry was immediately sent over to Bradley's class upon his return to school.

Chris never managed to figure out what he was drawing by this point, as Jerry guarded these drawings as if he was designing the next generation of nuclear weapons, which for all Chris might have known Jerry might have been. This did not stop Chris from trying to bring Jerry out of his shell though.

It started working a bit after his parents finally let Jerry out of his room in mid-October. Jerry would follow along with Chris again and go out. At first he would still not really mix, even with longtime friends like Tommy Caron and Jason Brigand. He would find a corner to sit and draw in when the activity went somewhere stationary.

It was not until nearly the end of the month that he was almost back to his old and bold self. When it looked like Jerry was ready the group decided to go and explore some of the old tunnels down at the state park right by the beach.

It was a chilly day at the end of October, but the snow had not made it to them yet and they wanted to have some fun outside before it did and they were housebound again.

It was a standard group for the day, Chris and Jerry, Tom Caron and his sister Carrie along with the ever-present Jason Brigand. The standard group for an expedition like this.

The state park was part of the grounds of the local community college and was once an army base. It looked like the army facilities dated back to before the First World War, possibly even back as far as the American Civil War.

It was often a popular place among the kids, as they were old stone and concrete structures that it would take dynamite to damage. The adults usually ignored the kids, figuring that there were worse places for them to be hanging out.

Carrie Caron was the music fanatic out of the group and had her little trusty boom box with her, playing the latest and greatest 80's staples, the type of music that everyone loved at the time and could barely remember a year later.

The little group was roaming around and creating a bit of noise pollution, trying to find something interesting to look at that they had not been to a dozen times before.

Finally, after quite a bit of looking around they found something that looked promising. It was an old structure built into a hill, or at least that is what it looked like. Truthfully none of them were sure what it was, as they had no frame of reference for what a murder hole looked like.

"What is it?" Carrie asked.

"I'm not sure," Chris said, "looks like there's a lot of space back there though. Think it's connected to the tunnel on the other side we saw the door for?"

"My older cousin brought me into that one three years ago and there were no windows anywhere in that place," Jason said as he craned his neck, "I think this is something else. Wonder if there's a door somewhere?"

"Only one way to find out," Carrie said, a twinkle forming in her eye, "You boys up for a climb?"

Carrie Caron was not like most other girls, mainly because she shared the same intolerance for bullshit that Chris and the rest of their group did. She sometimes stayed on the fringes of the girl cliques, but that was mainly to avoid persecution and to keep pressure off her brother. This was something that Carrie was much better at doing for Tommy than Chris had ever been able to do for Jerry.

Carrie also happened to be very pretty, though in a girl next-door type of way. She had long wavy brown hair and a clear, light complexion. She had been part of the group ever since it had been formed and she had proven herself many times in doing things that even Jerry could not manage.

She was not a complete tomboy, however, as she did keep herself presentable and was not completely averse to doing a little feminine pampering to herself occasionally. She had a foot in both worlds and she liked it that way.

Carrie had been one of Chris Healy's best friends for a long time. She was close with the whole group, but when things settled down it tended to be Chris that she would have the longest and most serious talks with. Of the boys she had long been friends with, Chris Healy was the only one who had come close to maturing as fast as she had.

"Well," Carrie said as she started to climb, "who else is going?"

"I'm in," Jerry shrugged, "Chris?"

"Sure," Chris agreed.

"I'll wait here," Tommy said, "I want to look around the area here."

"I'll stay with Tommy," Jason said, "no use leaving anyone alone."

"Ok," Carrie said, "I'll race you two to the top."

Chris and Jerry struggled for a moment to catch her and then Jerry got another wind and managed to get a good foothold that allowed him to leave both Carrie and his brother in the dust.

Carrie was surprised when Jerry managed to race past her and lost her footing, starting to tumble down a few steps. Chris was right behind her, however, and managed to catch her arm before she started the dangerous tumble down to the bottom. He held on and let her steady herself before he brushed her long brown hair out of his face.

"Thanks," Carrie said as she looked down, "I wasn't expecting to see him pass like that."

"Me either," Chris said, "it's ok now. Did I hurt you when I grabbed you?"

"A lot less than hitting bottom would have," Carrie assured him, "shall we continue?"

"Yeah," Chris chuckled, "be more careful this time, eh?"

"You got it, studmuffin," she smiled and continued up the side.

Jerry was standing at the top with a triumphant smile on his face when Carrie and Chris managed to catch up and get to the top of the hill. He looked at them and shook his head.

"Thought this was supposed to be a race?" Jerry asked.

"She lost her foothold," Chris explained, "nearly hit the ground."

"Ouch," Jerry said, "maybe next time, eh?"

"Maybe," Carrie agreed, "did you see anything?"

"Grass and concrete," Jerry said, take your pick.

"Look at the way the hill here has a double hump," Chris noted, pointing out the contour of the hill, "The door to the one that Jason had been in is on the side of the second one."

"Think there's a sealed off tunnel here?" Carrie asked him.

"Possibly," Chris said, "look down at the bottom of the hill to the left. That pile of concrete pieces could be going over the old door to that one.

"Too bad we don't have any way to clear those out," Carrie said.

"Explosives would do it," Jerry smiled, "It would be fun too."

"It would also get us caught," Chris frowned and tossed a rock lightly at his brother, "I think it will take a much more subtle approach to get in there."

"Window?" Carrie asked him.

"That's what I'm thinking," Chris nodded, "How long do you think it will take to chip out those blasted bars?"

"An hour or so, maybe less depending on how old the concrete is," Carrie shrugged.

"What about the cops?" Jerry said, "They leave us alone as long as we stay outside. How are we going to hide this?

"They won't notice the bars," Carrie said thoughtfully, "but they might notice us sitting there and chipping."

"The rest of us will have to sit there and watch for cops," Chris smiled, "we're young, we're smart. We can do it."

"Let's go see if they've found anything else down there," Carrie said, "we'll talk about it with Jason and Tommy."

"Race you down!" Jerry said.

"I'll let you have one," Carrie said, "I'm going to take it slow and easy this time."

"No fun, Carrie," Jerry said and started going down the hill.

"Your brother is insane, you know that right?" Carrie asked Chris once Jerry was out of earshot.

"Every time I start to forget he reminds me," Chris chuckled, "let's go on down before they start getting the wrong impression down there."

"Ok," Carrie laughed, "though I do like to keep them wondering sometimes."

"It can be fun," Chris admitted with a smile, "ladies first."

"You're so kind," Carrie chuckled, "and so full of it. You go first so you can catch me if I fall again."

"Who catches me?" Chris protested, though not very hard.

"The ground," Carrie smiled.

"Gotcha," Chris nodded and started making his way down the hill.

This trip happened without incident and before long the group of five was whole again. Jerry, Tommy and Jason were waiting for the slowpokes and words of wisdom.

"Jerry was telling us about your idea," Tommy said, "I don't think it will take long. The concrete was crumbling around my fingers. Get a good flat rock and it will probably come out in 30 minutes."

"Good," Chris said, "I'll take the first chipping shift if we can find a flat rock. Tommy, you take my back."

"I'll sit across the way over on that rock and pretend to be reading," Carrie said, "if I turn off the boom box there's a cop car coming."

"That leaves the two of us sitting around diddling?" Jerry said, "I don't think I like that."

"No," Chris smiled, "It leaves you two to go up to Cashman's store and get a couple of the cheap Eveready flashlights. We're going to need light if we go in there."

"I hope you're paying," Jerry said, "remember, they aren't going to reinstate my allowance until the beginning of the month."

"I've got two dollars," Chris said, "you have any Jason?"

"I'll chip in a buck," Jason said, "Tommy? Carrie?"

"I've only got 50 cents," Tommy said.

"I'll cover the dollar fifty," Carrie said and pulled out the required amount, "that makes it a dollar each. Probably get at least four flashlights for that."

"That works," Chris said and ponied up his cash, "let's find a flat rock and get to work."

It took Jason and Jerry nearly an hour to walk to the store and get flashlights, which was more than enough time for Chris and Tommy to pry both of the bars out of the window. Carrie's position was not all gravy either, as patrol cars came by twice, forcing Chris and Tommy to take cover in the trees.

When Jason and Jerry showed up with four cheap plastic flashlights and surprised them with three cans of classic coke and two cans of new coke. Chris quickly grabbed one of the classics, while Jerry happily kept one of the new Coke's. Tommy took the other New Coke with no argument from either Carrie or Jason.

"Ok," Jason said, "what do you think we're going to find in there?"

"There's only one way to find out," Jerry said, "as soon as I finish this thing, I'm going in."

"Someone needs to stay outside," Chris reminded them.

"I'll do it," Carrie said, "check it out for safety and then I'll join you."

"Cool," Jerry said and finished his Coke, he tossed the aluminum can into the bushes and slid in through the window, his Keds making an audible thump as his feet hit the floor.

"I guess I'm going in next," Chris said, "to make sure that Jerry keeps out of trouble."

"If you're not back for me in thirty minutes," Carrie said, "I'm going to flag down one of those cops."

"I'll be back in 29," Chris winked at her as he squeezed through the window.

Tommy and Jason smiled as they went in and flipped on their flashlights. The tunnel was actually very large, the top was actually some eight or nine feet high, just tall enough that Chris, the tallest of the boys, could not touch the top from his tip toes. To a group of fifteen-year-old boys it looked to be one of the coolest places known to man, despite the fact that it was dark, damp and dirty.

"Is it safe?" Tommy asked Chris.

"Looks solid," Chris said as he tapped the concrete, "Good arch, not even many cracks in the concrete. If the whole thing is this solid we're looking good."

"Let's go," Jerry said, "there's more to explore back here!"

"Go ahead with him," Chris said, "I'm going to go get Carrie."

"Right," Jason said, "see you in a few."

Chris flashed his light around the corridor to see the old junk that was piled away and sealed in many years before. He shook his head as he went back to the window.

"Boo," he said to Carrie, who was sitting and reading outside, "Its cool. Its solid concrete, no cracks to speak of. You can come on in if you like. The others are still moving on in."

"If you say so," Carrie grinned, "take the radio?"

"Sure," Chris said and took the boom box. He laid it out on a nearby box and offered Carrie a hand.

"Thanks," she said and jumped in, "not overly clean, is it?"

"What did you expect, kiddo?" Chris chuckled, he'd called her kiddo for years, despite the fact that she was only 3 months younger than him, "The Ritz?"

"No," Carrie smiled, as she always did when Chris called her kiddo, "But I wouldn't mind it if I found it."

"Maybe someday," Chris said, "let's go see what the others are doing."

She nodded and followed Chris, who still had the light. Her smile always had filled Chris with a warm feeling and he sometimes wondered if anything would ever happen between the two of them. It would have surprised him to find out that she often wondered the same thing.

The other boys were in the back of the tunnel looking at the area that widened out and took a 90-degree left turn. It looked like it went on for another forty feet after the turn and then just came to a dead stop. It was not as impressive as they had hoped, but they figured that it could be a useful place.

"What do you think guys?" Jerry said, "This look like home to you?"

"Could be worse," Tommy admitted, "I think there's even a set of table and chairs over here."

"Did you bring the cards, Tommy?" Jason asked him.

"Hell yes," Tommy grinned, "I'm up for a game of spades. How bout you, Jerry?"

"Works for me," Jerry shrugged, "you in, Chris? Carrie?"

"I'm going to explore for a bit," Carrie said, shaking her head, "Care to join me, Chris?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, spades was a game that he had long detested and she knew it.

"Suit you," Jason said as he began dealing, "just don't get lost."

"Give me your light so I don't," Carrie said, "you can play with two."

"All right," Jason said and tossed her the cheap plastic flashlight, "I still think you're going to get lost."

"Not likely," Chris laughed, "we'll leave you the boom box though, so we can find you."

"And to cover up any other noise we might make," Carrie said with a mischievous smile as she led Chris away.

"Woo," Jerry, Chris and Tommy jived in unison. Not one of them believed that anything would happen.

They went back towards the front and started poking through stuff with sticks that they found along the way. After about ten minutes of silence Chris realized she wanted to talk about something, but was not sure about how to start. He found an old overturned bench under some decades old trash and righted it. After cleaning it off he sat down and looked at her.

"What's on your mind, kiddo?" Chris asked, "You look like you want to talk."

"Yeah," she said and sat down next to him, "I'd like to talk. What do you think about how school is going this year?"

"About like always," Chris shrugged, not seeing the point but going along, "It sucks rancid donkey dick. There's nothing new about that, kiddo. The older kids are meaner, the younger kids are dumber and the classes are just as boring."

"Not to mention that stupid stunt that your brother pulled," Carrie said, trying to be nonchalant about it.

"Don't get me started on that one," Chris chuckled, "we're still feeling shockwaves from that."

"What do you think about what he did?" Carrie asked him.

Chris had to think for a minute about this one. In some ways Chris almost admired it, though he knew for sure that it was wrong. He was more disturbed that his brother would actually go through with something like that. He was wondering what Carrie was leading to and how much trouble she was having with it.

"It was stupid," he finally said, "I don't know what to think, truthfully. I'm sure he's not the only one who wanted to do something like that, but it was a damned stupid thing to do."

"Doesn't it disturb you the way he did it?" Carrie asked, "From what Tommy told me it was like he had no shame, no remorse."

Chris nodded to that one, as he really did not know what to say. It was frightening for him and he just did not know what to do about it. It scared him that Carrie was noticing it so much, truly validating the fears that had been going through him on the subject.

"It does scare me I guess," Chris agreed, "I never thought Jerry would have the balls to do something like that."

"I'm not so sure it was balls, Chris," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Chris looked at her hard and could see that there was something that she was holding back, something that scared her. He did not know if she was afraid to tell him or afraid of him. Whatever it was, it was not normal. She and Chris usually did not have a problem telling each other anything.

"Ok," She said and looked hard into Chris's eyes, trying to read his thoughts, "Can I talk honestly about your brother?"

"Sure," Chris nodded and looked down to make sure that the others could not see or hear them, "you can tell me anything, Carrie. You know that."

"I don't know what it is with Jerry this year, Chris," Carrie sighed, deciding to let it all out, "He used to be just one of us, you know? But I get scared around him sometimes now. I know he's your brother and all, but there are times that he scares the living daylights out of me."

"What happened, kiddo?" Chris said as he moved closer and put an arm around her, "I'm your friend no matter what. If he did something to you, I want to know about it. I need to know about it."

"Nothing like that," Carrie assured him, feeling comforted by his arm, "I'm just not sure if I should talk to you about this. You are his brother."

"Listen," Chris said, "when we talk, I'm just me. My brother isn't a part of the picture. If you want to talk to me, I'll listen. I won't tell Jerry a thing. He's probably better off not knowing anyway."

She looked at him and nodded, believing him completely. She then did something that she had never done with him before and put her arm around his back and snuggled in a little closer. She then took a deep breath and then began talking.

"I had a little run in with your brother," she said quietly, "at school, not too long after he came back."

"I don't think I want to know," Chris grimaced, "but tell me anyway. What happened?"

"It really wasn't what Jerry did as much as the manner he had when he did it," Carrie told him and bit her lip as she decided what words to use, "it's something that I've never seen with him before. The thing with Miss Vasquez, the way he's acted at school since his return, everything."

She paused for a second and looked at Chris again. He was pained by what he was hearing, but he was not running from her. He looked at her and smiled a little, encouraging her to go on.

"He asked me about Annie last Friday," Carrie said finally, "I guess he'd seen me talking to her earlier in the day. He was more direct than was usual for him. I know that he's had a thing for Annie for several years, so I indulged him with a little bit of gossip and such, just the sort of things he likes."

"So what was so bad about that?" Chris asked, wondering where this was heading.

"Nothing wrong with that," Carrie agreed, "but he was eating it up and starting to ask me more and more questions about her, stuff that was personal enough that I had no chance of knowing it."

She paused again and looked down the corridor to make sure that nobody was coming their way. Satisfied that the others were still safely occupied with their game of spades she continued with what she was saying to Chris.

"It was like an interrogation, Chris," she sighed, "I can't think of anything else to call it. He pushed harder and harder, and for a few minutes I thought he was considering violence. I was a little bit scared, honestly."

Chris sighed and hugged her tightly. He had no idea what to tell her, as he was as confused by Jerry's manner as everyone else was. He could tell that she was scared of Jerry. In some ways, he was even more scared that she was. She was echoing concerns that he had already been having.

The brother Chris Healy had been sharing everything with for over 15 years was becoming more and more distant to him, to the point where Chris could not even read him anymore. This is a most disconcerting thought for any twin, not to mention something that Carrie would be one of the few people he knew would be able to relate to.

"I know what you mean, Carrie," Chris sighed, "I honestly don't know what the hell is going on in his head. That probably scares me as much as it does you. I know more about your thought processes at this time than I do his."

Chris felt good admitting this to someone. Carrie nodded at him and understood completely. She had a bond with Tommy that was very strong. It scared her to think of what it would be like if they started losing that bond.

"I understand," Carrie sighed, "hopefully he'll get better though. If you need to talk, I'm here for you too."

"Thanks," Chris said, "don't worry about Jerry. He's harmless. He'll get over this infatuation someday. Maybe he'll even get up the guts to ask her out this year."

"Somehow I doubt that," Carrie chuckled.

They then looked into each other's eyes and finally saw what they needed to see. What had just been passing thoughts for both of them finally were coming to the forefront.

He saw his opportunity and it was clear that she was willing for him to take it. He leaned over and kissed her, not too deeply and most certainly not a movie star quality kiss, but a soft and warm one that left both of them feeling good about it.

They continued that way for a few minutes until they both decided to come up for air. It was the first real kiss for either of them and both of them came up smiling at the end. They stayed together like that for a few minutes and Chris ran his fingers lightly through Carrie's hair.

"It'll be ok," he said again, "don't worry about Jerry. If he bothers you again, just let me know. I'll have a talk with him."

"Don't worry about it for now," Carrie said, "he isn't bothering me much, just creeping me out a little."

"You aren't the only one," Chris admitted.

"Would it offend you if I kept my distance from him a little?" Carrie asked him and then smiled a little, "I want to be close to you still, maybe even closer than I am now, but I just don't want to be around Jerry without you around if I can help it."

Chris could not blame her very much for that. He was not much for spending time with his brother as of late either. He also wanted to continue to get close to Carrie, just like the typical teenager he still was at this point.

After a few more moments they heard motion down at the other end of the corridor and it seemed that the game was over. Chris and Carrie smiled at each other and moved apart a little bit, deciding that it would not be good form to be caught mid-embrace by the rest of the group yet. Carrie put on a smile for the group, despite the fact that she did not particularly want to see one of them.

"I told you they'd get lost," Jason said, "what are you two doing up here?"

"Just talking a little," Carrie shrugged, "who won?"

"Tommy trounced us," Jerry said sourly, "badly."

"It's all skill," Tommy said brightly.

"So what do you think, bro?" Jerry asked Chris as he sat down next to him on the bench, "This place rocks, doesn't it?"

"Hardcore," Chris agreed, keeping his feelings inside as well.

Carrie just smiled and looked at the two boys, feeling that things were going to be all right after all. Tom and Jason were poking around stuff and the entire group began talking about the school gossip, which mostly centered on the latest and greatest of teenage relationships, most of which were to be doomed within days.

The conversation was not hard to follow, really. Cookie Morris was going out with Philip Kane, Charlie Douglas was cheating on Betty Millon, and Archie was doing Veronica instead of who he was supposed to be doing. They speculated on who was doing whom, and whether they agreed on whether they should be doing it or not. All of it was probably wrong and would be further refuted by all parties the next time they actually went to school.

One thing that was never really said, but not particularly disputed by anyone there was this was going to become the group's unofficial home. A small place that nobody knew about that could retain heat and keep out the cold wind like this did was as good as gold to the group at this point.

"We need to name this place," Jason said, "its dark, its damp and dirty, but damn, this place is ours!"

"Great idea, Jase," Tommy shrugged, "but what should we call it?"

"I don't know. What can you do with a dark tunnel?" asked Carrie.

"I'm sure I could think of something," Chris said, causing her to blush. Lucky for them it was dark enough that none of the others noticed it.

"Ooh," Jason said, picking up the vibe if not the intent, "A lover's getaway sounds good. Pity we are all still single, huh?"

"There's probably hope for some of us," Jerry said, though he was the least likely out of the group to get a girlfriend, "Right Chris?"

"If you say so," Chris said, knowing Jerry was full of it.

"Yes, but we just can't call it the lover's getaway, that sounds stupid," Jason said as he looked around for better suggestions, "anyone got anything else?"

"Why not just call it hell?" Jerry said, "I mean it's all dark and underground and stuff?"

"Great," Carrie laughed, "we go from love to eternal damnation. Sounds just like you, Jerry."

"He might not have a bad idea, sis," Tommy said, "I'm sure some nice double entendre thing could be done with that."

"One of the L's could be lover," Chris said, showing where his mind was.

"There are two Healy brothers here, so H could be for Healy," Jerry said.

Jerry Healy seemed to be getting into the idea, despite the fact that the only girl who would even consider him was Darlene Welles, who was bigger than both Jerry and Chris put together and had all the personality you've come to expect from a dirty sweat sock.

"How the heck can we get anything romantic from the word hell?" Jason asked.

"Jason, Jason, Jason," Carrie said, tsking away at him, "You can come out with something romantic from anything if you try hard enough."

Everyone laughed. And then finally, Jerry came out with it. It was one of the most profound things the boy had ever said. Which, given the source, is truthfully not saying a lot. Jerry Healy had never been considered one of the smartest of the group. Not even in his own mind.

"I've got it! Healy's Enchanted Lover's Laydown!" Jerry exclaimed with joy.

"That's got to be the dumbest name I've ever heard," Jason said.

"I like it," Carrie chuckled, "it has pizzazz."

"Works for me," Chris agreed, liking the sound of it after what had just happened with him and Carrie, "I'll buy it at any rate."

"Makes no difference to me," Tommy shrugged.

"We need to do something to celebrate the founding," Jerry said, "what can we do though?"

"You still carrying that charcoal chalk thing?" Chris asked him, "That would probably be good to write on the wall in here. Probably last for years as well."

"Sure," Jerry said as he dug through the bag, "What should we do?"

"A giant middle finger," Jason said, "right on that far wall where it will be the first thing any intruders shine their lights on."

"Crude," Carrie scoffed, but objected no further.

"Let's do it," Tommy said, "it'll keep the place ours."

"Provided the cops don't seal it off once they realize the bars are gone," Chris reminded them.

"So we put the bars back up," Tommy said.

"No point," Carrie grinned, "nobody will give it a second look. It'll take months for anyone to notice."

"What time is it?" Jason asked finally.

"Time to start thinking about going home," Tommy said, "look, it's getting dark outside."

"Shit!" Jason said, "Dad's gonna beat me for sure."

"We probably should go home too," Chris said, "see if Mom is even cooking tonight or if it's leftovers again."

"Let's mark this place first," Jerry said and started on the finger.

Jerry made the finger quickly and briefly, intending to fill it in later. Tommy took the chalk and added a huge 'Go Away' to it. He handed the chalk to Chris, who simply went over to another wall and wrote on the wall with it. "Healy's Hell" was what he wrote and wrote his name and the date.

"Let me sign that and head home," Jason said, "good idea, Chris."

Before long all of them had signed it and left the tunnel, much the way they had come in. It was crude and interesting, but the names were all there. The five of them left the tunnel together and walked as they usually did.

Tommy and Jason were walking up ahead and talking about the inane things in life, followed about ten feet behind by Carrie and Chris, who were discussing much more mature topics. Jerry, as had become the norm, was trailing behind quietly, ignoring everyone and stopping to watch the stars every once in a while.

"Listen," Carrie said, "I don't want to get down on Jerry too much, you know? I've known him as long as I've known you..."

"Don't worry about it, kiddo," Chris said, smiling at her, "Jerry will get better in time. Don't think you're going to get away from me that easily. I like being around you."

"Good," Carrie said with a smile, "I'll remember that."

The group made it to Tom and Carrie's place, which was the closest to the park. There wasn't much said other than a few goodnights and a couple knowing smiles between Carrie and Chris, ones that went generally unnoticed by the other members of the group, including her brother.

"I gotta jet," Jason told Chris and Jerry, "I'm late already."

"So run for it," Chris said, "we'll see you tomorrow."

"Try not to get beaten too badly," Jerry said to Jason's back as he started his sprint home."

"Screw you too, Healy!" Jason shouted as he flipped them the bird.

They brothers chuckled and they walked along in silence, not having much to talk about after this point. Jerry just withdrew into his shell, like had been the norm and Chris walked along and whistled along to a beat he only heard in his head at this point.

"Ok Chris," Jerry said in annoyance after watching his brother for a few minutes, "you look like you're walking on air. What is up with you?"

"What do you mean?" Chris asked him, not realizing how apparent his good mood was to his sullen brother.

"You look like you've hit the jackpot," Jerry said, cracking a wry smile, "You're smiling, dancing around and whistling Sussudio. Besides, something has got to be wrong. We're going home and you're in a good mood."

Chris laughed and took stock of himself. He actually was in a pretty decent mood, considering he now was able to guess that Carrie felt very much like he did. He was even amused that Jerry was able to notice how happy he was feeling. He was glad that Jerry still knew enough about that emotion to at least be able to detect it, even if he didn't feel it.

"Spit it out, bro," Jerry said, pushing like only a brother can get away with, "What's going on?"

"Not too much," Chris shrugged, "I just had a good time tonight. Carrie and I were talking while you three were playing that stupid card game."

"I saw that you two ran off together," Jerry nodded, "what were you doing, boinking each other up in the other end of the tunnel?"

"Funny," Chris said as he watched his brother laugh, "we didn't do that. But I did kiss her, bro."

This stopped Jerry flat on his heels. It was as if a board or something had struck him, the shock was just complete and total. He finally looked over at his brother in awe, just as if he'd been a matinee idol of some sort, the Indiana Jones for the masses.

"No kidding?" Jerry asked his brother.

"Nope," Chris said, smiling, "Honest to god."

"Cool," Jerry said, nodding appreciatively, "Not bad at all."

That was pretty much all they had time for, as they had arrived home and their parents were not particularly happy to see that they were late, despite the fact that all the signs were pointing to the fact that they would have just witnessed another fight had they been on time.

"Where have you boys been?" Their mother asked them as they entered the house.

"Goofing off," Chris said, "did we miss anything?"

"Dinner!" Their mother said and stormed off.

"No," Joe Healy said, loud enough for his storming wife to hear, "They didn't miss anything!"

"I think I'll help myself to a sandwich," Chris said, "how about you, Jerry?"

"I don't think I'm hungry," Jerry said and quietly went upstairs.

Chris went into the kitchen and fixed himself a sandwich. His father joined him for a moment and got another beer out of the kitchen. Joe looked over at his son and half smiled.

"I'm sorry, Chris," he said, "I shouldn't have done that."

"Don't sweat it, pop," Chris said, "nothing we can do. I'm just going to go crash with a book or something."

Joe watched his son climb the stairs. He was not overly worried about Chris, but Jerry still worried him a bit. He, like everyone else who had thought about it, was troubled by what Jerry had done at the beginning of the year. Unfortunately, like everyone else he was at a loss to figure out what to do. His own problems had absorbed him enough to the point that he did not have time to worry about it.

Chris sat down on the bed and started munching on his sandwich. He found his appetite dwindling as he thought about the vitriol that was passing between his parents downstairs. Jerry was sitting over on his side of the bedroom, sketching in his book like he always did.

"Hey bro," Chris said finally, "want half?"

"Sure," Jerry said, "leave it on the table there. I'll get it in a minute."

Chris nodded and left the sandwich there, retreating to his own bed and pulling out a well-worn Nero Wolfe novel. He was about to settle down into the adventures of Archie and Nero when Jerry sat up and took the sandwich. Jerry looked at his brother for a minute before actually getting the nerve to speak.

"Chris?" Jerry asked.

"What's up, guy?" Chris asked him.

"What was it like?" Jerry asked him, "Was it good?"

"What do you mean, Jer?" Chris asked, not sure what he meant.

"How did it feel when you kissed her?" Jerry asked him, truly wondering what it was like.

"I can't describe it," Chris said, but then went on to try, "But it was one of the best feelings in the world, little brother. Its like, so this is what we go through all this shit for."

"Ok," Jerry nodded, and then said nothing for a couple minutes as he studied his brother, "But how did you know she wanted to do it? Or did she?"

"She wanted to," Chris said, "I could tell. It's not really something I can describe. The moment was there. We were talking and the feeling came over me. I could see in her eyes that she wanted the same thing I did. So I kissed her. Simple as that."

"There's nothing simple about it," Jerry sighed, "do you think you will become an item?"

"I don't know," Chris shrugged, "anything is possible, I guess."

He sighed and put his notebook to the side and finished the sandwich half Chris had given him. Jerry was happy for his brother, but unable to see the light in it either. He knew it was just one more aspect of life that he was missing and would most likely continue to miss.

"Maybe someday, Chris," Jerry paused and then went on, "maybe someday I'll actually have the guts to ask Annie out. Who knows, maybe one day she'll actually say yes to me?"

"You'll never know unless you try," Chris reminded him gently, "what have you got to lose?"

"What if she says no?" Jerry asked him, "I don't know if I could live with that."

"I don't know what to tell you," Chris admitted, "you can't live in fear of being rejected. You don't learn anything that way."

"Maybe so," Jerry said pensively, "maybe so."

Jerry picked up his sketchbook and began drawing again. Chris sighed and went back to his book, ending the conversation for the night. Jerry was usually the bolder of the two of them, but when it came to girls he just could not manage it. This difference was going to make all the difference between them in the coming months.
Chapter 6: October 31, 1985, 2:45pm

Don't Get Into Trouble...

The next few days went about par for the course with the Healy Brothers. Chris kept trading glances and smiles with Carrie Caron as they continued the flirting. It was not hard to see that something was going on between them, though nobody, not even Chris and Carrie themselves, were sure about what it was yet.

Jerry Healy was continuing along on his path of desolation. He was continuing his decent into silence and withdrawal. As had become the norm, he was slinking from one place to another, drawing and spending time alone. He did not even care to spend much time with his brother any longer, because all Chris did was think about Carrie.

Amidst the Halloween decorations that had been placed up in Promitter High School Jerry and Chris continued their day and actually spent a little time together. Chris was blind to his brother's deepening psychological slide. Just after sixth period they parted ways, just as they usually did.

"Don't get into any trouble," Chris said as he left his brother.

"I'll try," Jerry mumbled as he headed off to his art class, "I'm going to stay late today. I don't feel like dealing with Mom and Dad."

"No worries," Chris shrugged, "I'll probably go hang with Tom and Carrie. You're welcome to come if you want to, Jer."

"Not up for it today," Jerry said, "I've been working on a project for the contest next month. Mrs. Thompson said I could use the equipment in the art room after school if I wanted to. I think I'm just going to try to finish it."

"That's cool," Chris said and smiled at his brother, "I'll see you at dinner then."

"Maybe," Jerry said and slipped off to his last class.

Chris shook his head and went off to the last period of the day, a science lab that he shared with Tom and Carrie. Jerry's last class was in the art room, so he would not have to go far or interact with people very much along the way.

The differences between the brothers could have been clearly seen if one could have watched them in their respective environments. Even in a class Jerry dearly loved he could not seem to make himself pay attention or enjoy it. He sat in the back of the room and doodled on scratch paper as he half-heartedly listened to the lecture.

Chris was the model of a happy child, however, as he was smiling and trading jokes with Tom and Carrie. When the teacher would give them a chance to do so, Chris and Carrie were looking into each other's eyes, the image of a young couple in love.

When the final bell rang for the day Chris, Carrie and Tom were out the door like a shot. It was a rather warm day for the end of October, so they were eager to go outside and get away from the dark place that Promitter High School tended to be, even on the best of days.

"I thought this day was never going to end!" Tommy said as they walked outside of the school in the sunshine, "Think that lecture could have been any more boring?"

"I honestly gave up listening about half way through," Chris shrugged, "it's a rehash of the class I took last year."

"Where's Jason this afternoon?" Carrie asked, "He's not joining us for the trek home today?"

"He's in detention, sis," Tommy grinned, "he made the wrong joke at the wrong time. Mr. Carter heard him and gave him a week."

"Should we wait for him?" Carrie asked, "How about Jerry?"

"Jerry is working on his project again," Chris said, "he'll be fine on his own. I think it's just us today."

"I can live with that," Carrie smiled as the three of them walked on down the street.

While his brother and the Carons were walking down the street Jerry was sitting in the back of the art room drawing and painting as if a dark inferno raged inside of him. The image was a disturbing one, a fantastic epic of demons chasing a human being through a portion of perdition.

He worked feverishly on it for nearly an hour before the teacher came over and decided to look. Karen Thompson was a teacher because she liked it, not because she had to be. She knew the artistic mind well because she had spent several years touring around and having her work exhibited. She knew talent when she saw it and she had seen it early in Jerry Healy. She also happened to be one of the few adults for which Jerry had any affinity at all.

"How goes the work, Jerry?" She asked him.

"It's coming along," Jerry said.

She walked behind him and looked on at his work. She noticed that it was rather vivid and graphic, much more so than his usual work. It was not anywhere near complete yet, but it was looking like it could become one of his best works.

"It's looking good," she told him, "what do you plan on doing with it next?"

"I don't know yet," Jerry said honestly, "I'm still trying to think of where to go next."

"Just be careful," Mrs. Thompson said, "you're treading dangerous ground in that one."

"I know," Jerry said, and looked at it with a smile.

"Good work though," she said, "keep on working on it. I want to see it again when you've finished it."

"Ok," Jerry said, sitting back and smiling.

"Unfortunately," she told him, "I've got to go to pick up my husband this afternoon, so you're going to have to work on this later."

"That's fine," Jerry shrugged, "it's mostly done."

Jerry sighed and put his stuff away and Mrs. Thompson noticed that he did not look very thrilled to be going home. She figured that her husband could wait a few more minutes at the garage and decided to talk to him.

"What's going on at home, Jerry?" she asked him quietly.

"What?" Jerry asked.

"It's a beautiful day out there," Karen said, "why don't you want to go out in it?"

"I haven't felt much like being in the sun lately," Jerry said, "no real point in it."

"Why's that?" she asked him, puzzled by the answer.

"Just no point," Jerry shrugged, "that's all."

She tried talking some more as Jerry finished putting his stuff away, but it was no real use. He was well beyond the point of wanting to talk about it. He grabbed his backpack and went out the door. Karen Thompson was only able to look on as the young man shuffled away.

Jerry Healy walked alone and quietly away from the outer building that had long been used for the art classrooms. Watching him as he walked along was a group of popular kids, ones that had tormented him and others in the school. Jerry did his best to pay them no mind and walk right on by. They were not going to let him off so easy this time.

Morton Farnsworth, the de facto the leader of the popular kids, was a tall and athletic boy who seemed to have it all made. Even as a sophomore was already six foot two and was bulking up nicely, a football star in the making. He looked a good two years older than he was and had girls swooning all over him, including his very shapely girlfriend, Cookie Morris. His father was also an influential businessman that was listened to closely by everyone in the city, from the Mayor on down.

Cookie Morris was a goddess walking on Earth, or at least that was what she looked like even at the age of fifteen. She was the most popular girl in school and Mort had gotten his hands on her early.

Mort and Cookie had been an item for over a year and their viewpoints on life were very similar, they thought that the less popular kids were dirt. Ones like Jerry were merely toys to be played with and discarded when the time comes.

"Look at him," Mort said to Cookie and several of their friends, "what do you think guys? Want to have some fun?"

"Sure," Andy King said in his nasal voice, "wonder what the fucker has in that sketchbook?"

Andrew King was a parasite, plain and simple. The small, skinny kid that managed to get in good with the popular kids and stay there. You see his type in any organization, the small weasel that everyone hates but always ingratiates himself to those above him while backstabbing anyone below or beside him.

There were about six or seven of the popular kids standing around them, which gave them enough of a gang to get away with pretty much anything they wanted, or so they thought at least. Mort, Cookie and another one of the football players named Jesse Allen took the lead in surrounding Jerry, along with several other of their clique.

"Well, well, well," Mort said as he walked up to Jerry, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Going home," Jerry said, trying to get away from the circle.

"What's in his notebook?" Andy King asked from the back of the circle, goading on the others as he usually did.

"Let's find out," Jesse Allen said as he grabbed at Jerry's sketchbook.

"Hey!" Jerry yelled and tried to protect his sketchbook from the other kids, attempting unsuccessfully to dodge through a break in the chain and get away.

"I'll take that, thank you," Mort said as he grabbed Jerry's arm and tossed the sketchbook to Andy, his cool demeanor making him the most menacing of the bunch, "Take a look at what he's done, Andy."

"I want to see too," Cookie said, smiling evilly, "This should be good for a laugh."

This was enough to launch Jerry into a fit of rage. Jerry launched himself towards Morton Farnsworth with the ferocity of a tiger, but he was not up to the challenge of taking on four larger boys by himself. Jesse Allen clotheslined him with his oversized right arm, sending Jerry sprawling out on his back. Jesse and two others held him down as Mort, Andy and Cookie opened Jerry's prized notebook.

"Woo," Cookie said, "look at this smut!"

Jerry Healy had a true artist's mind and he kept all of his personal thoughts on paper in visual form. Every fantasy he had ever had, be it the violent death of a perceived enemy or graphic sex with the girl next door, was documented in his vivid artistic style.

"Yeah," Mort said, "like he'd ever score like that. Fucking weirdo."

"What do we do with this?" Andy asked.

"We've got to share this with the school," Mort sneered, "What do you think?"

"What a sicko!" Brie Ross said to Jerry after looking at the pages, spitting at him in the process, "This is disgusting!"

"Oh absolutely," Cookie smiled, "we've got to share this with the world."

And that is exactly what they did. The popular kids divided the pictures from the notebook, destroying the notebook itself, and went around posting the pictures. Jesse and Mort held Jerry outside until the deed was done.

"Frank Carter is out snooping around," Andy King said when he returned, "he's asking questions about the purveyor of this smut."

"So let him have the culprit," Mort said with a dismissive shrug, "that fucknut drew it. Let him take the blame for it."

Within minutes a protesting Jerry Healy was turned over to Vice-principal Carter, who, as he always did, took the word of the crowd over the lone young man who nobody liked. Juliana Healy was called at work to come pick up her son again, for the second time this year. Unlike the first time, however, it truly was not his fault.

Unfortunately for Jerry Healy, no one, not even his parents, would listen to him. It was one more step in the cycle that pushed a young man beyond the point of no return.
Chapter 7: October 31, 1985, 3:19pm

You Got Something Going On With My Sister?

While Jerry Healy was undergoing his own personal hell at the high school Chris, Tommy and Carrie were walking peacefully along the back paths along the river towards the house. Carrie and Chris were making eyes at each other again, and though Tommy wasn't the most observant kid in the world even he was beginning to take notice.

"Ok," Tommy said after about a half hour's worth of walking, "what the hell is going on with you two?"

"What do you mean?" Chris asked, grinning at Carrie.

Carrie simply giggled, which was slightly out of character for her. Tommy Caron knew then something was up between his sister and his best friend.

"You two have been like this for days now," Tommy said, stopping and looking at the two of them and slipping into a bad John Wayne imitation, "You got something going on with my sister, Chris?"

Carrie and Chris could not help but laugh at this, and soon Tommy was going off as well. They laughed for a few minutes and then found a bench to sit on. When the laughter wore off Chris and Carrie smiled and looked at each other. Chris was the one who finally managed to break the ice.

"Well," Chris said to Carrie, "do we have anything going on, kiddo?"

"Hmm," Carrie said, feigning that she was thinking about it, "I think we might be able to come to some kind of an arrangement."

Tommy looked at them and was dumbfounded when Carrie scooted up next to Chris and began whispering into his ear. Tommy had thought they were only kidding, but the look on their faces showed rather quickly that they weren't. What she told him quietly proved to Chris that he was right, there was indeed something going on between them.

"I don't believe this," Tommy said, shaking his head, "So when did this start?"

"Well," Carrie said, "I guess technically it would have started the day we found the cave. Sound about right, Chris?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "I think so."

Chris smiled and offered his hand to her. She returned the smile, as only a smitten young girl could, and took it. The look in their eyes was unmistakable, even someone as close to them as Tommy was could only look on. His best friend had just taken up with his sister. He did not know what to do.

"Uh," Tommy said, "would you two like to be alone for a few?"

"Sure," Carrie said and smiled at her brother, "I think Chris and I need to talk anyway."

"Right," Tommy said, "I think I'll go sit and read that assignment for English. If you need me, that's where I'll be."

Tommy Caron was not sure what to make of this development, though he reasoned it had to happen for her sometime. Objectively, she could not have chosen better and he knew it. He just did not know how to feel about it. Sighing, he sat down on a bench and watched Chris and Carrie walk on.

The sun was out, the birds were singing, and for the end of October it was warm for southern Maine. It being nice out, they walked along and finally ended up sitting next to the riverbank, some ways up from where Tommy had split off from them. It was just dumb luck that one of the best days of Chris Healy's life happened at the same time as one of the worst days in his brother's.

"You know," Chris said as he sat down on the ground, "I really love your smile, kiddo."

"Thank you," she said and smiled again, making his heart flutter, "I'm glad you kissed me on Sunday, Chris."

"I'm glad that I did too. I don't know," Chris said, trying to grope for the right words, "I'm not very good at this sort of thing. I've never really had to express myself to anyone before, you know? But I really like you a lot, Carrie. More than just friends type of thing. I was wondering...."

Chris Healy was doing well that day, his nerve was up, but he was still very unsure. Carrie was not far off and in fact had some of the same insecurities, but seeing that he felt the same way helped her immensely.

"I like you a lot too, Chris," she said as she held hands with him, "I feel safer with you than I ever have with anyone else. We're just kids here, but it's more than just a feeling. It's the way you look at me, the way I felt when your lips touched mine last weekend."

Carrie had saved him again, and Chris knew it. They were smiling and Chris knew that it was do or die time for him with her. It was the classic moment when a boy had to stand up and become a man and ask a girl to go out steady with him. Chris Healy was about to do one of the hardest things a boy could do, ask a girl to go out with him for the first time.

"Carrie," Chris said finally, "would you like to go out with me?"

"I'd love to, Chris," She said, smiling happily.

The moment was complete and they both were finally on the same page. Within moments they were kissing. For the next hour they pretty much alternated with chatting about little things and kissing some more. Their teenage hormones were raging and they were appreciating having someone to experiment a little with.

They finally had to break it up a little when Tom finished his reading assignment and decided to see what Chris and his sister were up to. Seeing them sitting there smiling and kissing confirmed that they were definitely an item. Tommy chuckled at that and decided to break the ice in an amusing manner as he approached them.

"Attention," he said in a passable imitation of an airline pilot over an intercom, "sibling approaching. Please abort all necking for fear of extreme nausea."

They all laughed and Chris invited Tommy to sit down. Tommy looked at the two of them and shook his head again.

"You know," Tommy said, "we do need to go home at some point."

"Probably should start heading that way," Chris nodded, "my parents may be oblivious, but they'll notice at some point."

The three of them walked towards home, with Chris and Carrie remaining hand in hand. Now that it was established that Chris and Carrie were a couple talking went easier all around and the conversation wandered all over the place, until they were just about home.

"Listen Chris," Tommy said earnestly, "I just want to see Carrie happy, and this is the happiest I've seen her in a long time. You're one of my best friends, probably always will be. But I'm going to warn you now. If you hurt my sister I'll break your kneecaps."

This was actually a rather humorous thing to say, considering that Chris was at least five inches taller and had fifty pounds on Tommy Caron. Tommy also knew that Chris would never do anything to hurt Carrie.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Carrie asked Chris, still chuckling at her brother's comments.

"Of course," Chris smiled, "maybe even sooner."

Carrie smiled brightly and kissed Chris on the cheek before heading off towards home with her brother. Chris grinned and walked towards his own house, feeling lighter than air as he touched the doorknob on the front door. It was a feeling that he was going to feel shattered when he walked through that door.

Chris walked in and saw his parents actually in the living room at the same time. This was warning sign one that something was wrong. They rarely sat in the same room at the same time by this point. It was also obvious that they were fighting about something and something big. Chris decided to stay back and listen to what they were fighting about for a minute.

"What the hell did you do to encourage him?" Juliana Healy asked her husband irrationally, "Why would he do something to embarrass us like this?"

"You and your goddamned embarrassment!" Joe Healy raged, "Fuck you and your embarrassment. It's a goddamned high school prank."

"Pictures of him having sex and killing people?" Juliana raged, "You think this is a stupid prank? You're even dumber than you look."

"Oh yeah?" Joe said, "Well I can't say that I give a rat's ass what your phony bridge club biddies say."

"Oh shit," Chris said to himself, "what did Jerry do now?"

The elder Healys were still shouting at each other as Chris walked unnoticed to the stairs. He climbed the stairs and made his way to the room that he and Jerry had shared for fifteen years. He went to the closed door and pushed on it, like he normally did, but he ran abruptly into the door.

"What the hell?" Chris asked as he pushed on the abnormally locked door, "Open up, Jerry!"

Chris was worried when there was no response from his brother. He frowned at the door and tried again to push it open, but Jerry had locked it from the inside, something that they had never actually done before. Chris growled and pounded on it a few more times before going back downstairs and seeing the fight lull a bit. He decided to make his presence known this time.

"Where have you been, Christopher?" his mother barked as soon as she saw him.

"Out with Tom and Carrie," Chris said, frowning at the obvious, "What is going on here? I come home from a fairly decent day and find Jerry locked in our room and you two fighting again. What happened?"

"Your brother posted some disgusting pictures around the school," his mother said, "complete filth. Why didn't you stop him, Chris?"

"This is the first I've heard about it," Chris said, truly floored this time, "Do you have one of the pictures?"

"What does that matter?" she yelled at him, before being cut off by her husband.

"Will you shut up and show him the picture?" Joe asked sternly, "If you want to know why this happened, Chris is probably our best hope."

Duly chastised, but still glaring at her husband, Juliana Healy passed two crumpled sheets of paper over to her son. Chris opened up the crumpled paper and looked at the images, both obviously drawn by his brother. Chris hadn't seen the drawings before, but he recognized Annie Jenkins in one of the drawings, being ravaged by a triumphant Jerry. The other one was a brutal murder of one of the kids who had been tormenting him.

"Where did this come from?" Chris asked.

"Jerry posted them all over the school," his mother told him.

"Bullshit," Chris said, "pardon my language, but bullshit. Jerry isn't that crazy."

"But what about that incident earlier this year?" his father asked.

"Different thing entirely," Chris said firmly, "that was impulse. Stupid, but impulsive. Jerry wouldn't have any reason to do this. It would just make him look worse. If he was going to do something like this he would have masked his style and not gotten caught posting."

"But the Vice-Principal," Juliana said, "He said..."

"Frank Carter is an idiot," Chris said crossly, cutting her off, "And he probably was willing to believe the worst about Jerry without even investigating it. Especially after that stupidity in September."

"So what do you propose we do?" his father asked him.

"Don't punish him too hard for now," Chris said, "Give me some time to look into this. I might be able to find out the whole story. If I can get a more believable story, will you give him a break?"

"It depends on the story and how much of it you can prove," Joe said before his wife could say anything different.

"But the pictures themselves!" Juliana Healy whined.

"Private thoughts," Chris said, "not meant to be seen by anyone. I've never even seen those pictures before this and I share a room with him."

"Ok," Joe said, "I'll put off punishing him for now."

"You will do no such thing!" Juliana said.

"Yes, I will," Joe said, "and if you try to do anything before Chris comes back I'll just let him out later."

Chris saw that the situation was going to degenerate into another knock down drag out fight, which was fine. As long as they were fighting with each other they were not able to do anything to Jerry. He decided that he needed help to find out what really happened, and he knew just the person to get into it.

He decided that he did not want to make the call to Carrie from the house, so he decided to walk on down to Cashman's store down the block and use the pay phone. It took him less than five minutes to get there. He plunked a dime into the phone and dialed the number for Carrie and Tommy's house.

"Hello," Matt Caron, the twins' father, answered.

"Hi," Chris said, "could I speak to Carrie, please? It's Chris Healy."

"Sure," Matt Caron agreed, "let me get her."

"Hiya Chris!" Carrie said when she came onto the line a few moments later, "What's up?"

Chris could not help but smile. It was a welcome relief for him just to hear her voice.

"Hey kiddo," he said, "is there any way you can get out for a while tonight? I could use your company right now."

"What's wrong?" Carrie asked him, sensing the trembling in his voice, "You know, you're supposed to be happy on a day like this, love?"

"I am," Chris said, "but something else has come up as well and I could use your help with it."

"What is it?" Carrie asked him, "Should I bring Tommy too?"

"No," Chris said, "just you."

"Is it serious?" Carrie asked, genuinely concerned.

"It could be," Chris said, "it's Jerry. I'll explain in person."

"I'll meet you down at the end of the block in about ten minutes," Carrie said without hesitation.

"That works," Chris said, "I'm down at Cashman's now."

"Why are you there?" Carrie asked him.

"I'll tell you when you get here," Chris said, "my dime is about to run out."

"Gotcha," she said and put down the phone.

Chris went into the store and bought two hot chocolates and a couple candy bars. He sat down on the bench and started sipping on the hot chocolate while he waited for his ladylove to show up. It did not take her the full ten minutes that she had said, because she showed up in front of the store after barely five minutes and three sips of hot cocoa.

"What's up, studmuffin?" Carrie asked him and planted a big kiss on his cheek, "Why all the cloak and dagger stuff? What has your psycho brother done this time?"

Chris frowned for a moment at her referencing his brother like that, but then quickly shook it off and explained the situation as he knew it. He passed her one of the Cocoas as he talked and they sipped on it trying to keep warm through the story. He really did not have all that much information, but he told her about the pictures, the suspension and the fact that he was locked in their collective bedroom.

"Well, that explains why you're here," Carrie said with a smile, "it's ok. I was hoping you'd call and want to do something tonight anyway. I wanted to get out of the house. Maybe you and I should play detective and see if we can find out what happened."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Chris grinned, "so it sounds as fishy to you as it does to me?"

"More so," Carrie agreed, "Jerry may be capable of doing some stupid stuff, but this doesn't sound like him."

"Nor does the reaction," Chris sighed, "he actually locked the door."

"That's not cool," Carrie said and kissed him on the cheek, "listen, I know who to call. Got a dime?"

"Sure," Chris nodded and fished out another one, handing it to Carrie, "Who are you calling?"

"Jen MacBride," Carrie said as she dialed the number, "if anyone will know anything it would be her. She's also not bright enough to figure out that I'm pumping her for information."

"Sounds like a plan," Chris shrugged and snuggled fairly close to her so he could hear the conversation."

"Hi," Carrie asked in the annoying popular girl voice that she could manage when she wanted to, "is Jen there?"

Chris tried to listen closely, but the phone was not really designed for two people to listen in, so he lost most of the conversation. Chris's job was mainly to keep plunking in dimes to keep the phone going.

Carrie took charge of the situation in her typical way. It was amazing to Chris how she could blend into their world and the world of the popular kids. She despised most of them, but she knew how to play the game when she had to.

Carrie led her around the bend for nearly 20 minutes in idle conversation, the stuff that girls usually talk about. Chris would have been asleep in minutes if not for the fact that Carrie was making faces during most of the conversation. Finally, Jen hit the subject that they wanted to hear about.

"Did you hear what happened with that little creep Healy today?" Jen asked Carrie innocently.

"Nope. I've been busy most of the afternoon," Carrie said, winking at Chris, "Hanging around with some friends, goofing off and that sort of thing. Heck, my mother yelled at me cause I was out so late. What happened? Anything good?"

"Well, it seems that Mort managed to nail that creep good," Jen said as Chris showed his displeasure, "Andy, Cookie and a few others grabbed his notebook and found some disgusting stuff in it."

"Like what? Is he picking his boogers and eating them or something," Carrie said to Jen, keeping up appearances. This earned her a glare from Chris.

"He probably does, but that is beside the point," Jen continued, showing her dislike for Jerry Healy, "There were a whole bunch of drawings in there. Most of them were him getting it on with a girl. Really sick stuff!"

Jen MacBride sounded truly revolted by the mere thought of Jerry Healy ever getting laid. Chris had to grip the edge of the bench to keep his temper under control as this part of the conversation continued.

"So what did they do?" Carrie asked as if it was an everyday occurrence, "Show them to everybody? How did you see it?"

"Mort, Andy and Cookie posted them all over the school," Jen told her, "I saw one of the pictures they posted all around. It was GROSS. They got him though, cause when Carter found out about the pictures and found out that it was that little creep who drew them, Carter threw him out of school."

Chris was seething at the cavalier attitude that Jen MacBride was showing towards his brother's predicament. Carrie had to put a hand on his shoulder to keep him calm so she could finish the conversation.

"You're telling me that Mort and company posted them all over the place?" Carrie asked incredulously.

"Of course," Jen said, the glee apparent in her voice, "Andy, Cookie, Mort, Jesse and probably a few others too. They put them all over the place and after Carter was called they put all the blame on Healy. It was beautiful."

Again, Chris was about ready to go off, but Carrie put her finger on his lips, keeping him calm long enough to allow her to say her goodbyes and get off the phone. Carrie sighed and sat down next to Chris on the bench, looking into his eyes.

"I knew there was something wrong with that story my parents told me," Chris said, barely holding back a curse, "Jerry is nuts, but not that nuts."

"He's a different type of nuts," Carrie said, "now we know what actually happened. What can we do about it?"

"Let's go talk to my parents," Chris said, "we can't do much, but maybe they will be able to."

"If nothing else," Carrie said, "we may be able to get your parents to take the heat off him."

They started heading up towards the Healy home walking hand in hand and watching the younger children trick or treat. Chris was still rather steamed at what had happened to his brother, but he was calming down immensely just having Carrie along with him.

"I don't know what's more disturbing," Carrie said, "what the popular kids did or the fact that Jerry had pictures like that in the first place."

"It was probably his private sketchbook," Chris reminded her, "the equivalent of a diary for him. What you or I might do with words he does with pictures."

"True," Carrie sighed, "it's just disturbing, that's all."

"I just hope that Jerry hasn't done anything stupid," Chris said, trying not to think about that part, "He's never locked the door like that before."

"All we can do is try to find out," Carrie shrugged and gripped his hand tighter, "you're not your brother's keeper, much as he may need one."

"I know it," Chris sighed, "but I can't help but feel a little responsibility for him, you know?"

"Just don't let it eat you alive, Chris," Carrie warned him as they approached the house, "you can't save him if he doesn't want to save himself."

"True that," Chris agreed and opened the door.

The two teenagers walked in to the house and found Chris's parents sitting in their respective places in the living room. They had stopped talking again and were concentrating on separate things. Juliana Healy was flipping channels on the TV, while Joe Healy was reading one of his cheap spy novels.

Chris managed to get their attention and then let Carrie tell most of the story, knowing that he probably had next to no credibility with his parents on this issue.

It was one of the smartest things that he could have done, because once Carrie finished telling the story they were back on Jerry's side again.

"Ok," Joe said simply, "so what you're telling me is that your brother didn't post this stuff?"

"Not a chance in hell, Dad," Chris said honestly, "the last thing on earth Jerry needs is more ill will from the people at school. He would have fought tooth and nail to keep this stuff out of public view. Probably did, but Andy King had the football players to back him up.

"There is also no one better than Andy at putting one over on the gullible," Carrie told Chris's parents, "and frankly they don't come more gullible than Frank Carter."

"Well," Joe said, "this does make more sense."

"A bit more," Juliana agreed, "go ahead and get your brother. Let's see what he has to say about this."

"We'll go get him," Chris said, "right, Carrie?"

She nodded and followed Chris up to his room. They both knew that this wasn't going to be easy. Chris went up to the door and tried again to open it, running into the lock just like he did last time. He pounded on the door for a few seconds and then shouted to his brother.

"Jerry!" Chris yelled, "Open the door!"

Again there was no response. Chris went downstairs and picked up a laminated index card. He went back up to the room and slipped the lock. The two of them went in and were assaulted by a smell that neither one of them recognized at that point, though it would be a smell that Chris would learn well later in life.

"What is that smell?" Carrie asked Chris.

"From the looks of the empty bottle he's holding," Chris said as he went and removed the bottle from his brother, "I'd say it was vodka. It looks like he decided to drink his problems away."

"Great," she said, "what now?"

"Check him out and see if he's ok," Chris said, "I'll go tell my parents that he's not feeling well and needs to rest a while longer."

"Think they'll buy it?" Carrie asked him.

"Probably not," Chris shrugged, "but what choice do I have?"

"Get a damp cloth and a clear glass while you're down there," Carrie instructed him, "he's probably just out cold, but we need to find out for sure."

"Will do," Chris said and then kissed her cheek, "thanks kiddo."

"You're welcome," she smiled as he went back downstairs.

Chris went to his parents and told them that Jerry was feeling very bad and wanted to do nothing but sleep. They let it ride, having pretty well decided to let Jerry go on this one, though neither one was about to take up Jerry's cause at school. They were beginning to argue again when Chris left the room to get the items Carrie had requested.

He picked up a clear glass and grabbed a couple sodas for them out of the fridge before going upstairs. Joe and Juliana Healy were in nearly full-blown battle again by the time Chris slinked past them to go upstairs. Carrie was waiting by the door for him, wondering what the racket was downstairs.

"What is going on down there?" Carrie asked him.

"My world," Chris sighed, "welcome to it, hon."

"Do they do this often?" Carrie asked him.

"Only every other night lately," Chris shrugged, "usually Jerry and I just shut the door and ignore it. At any rate, we're probably better off because of it. They're so busy yelling at each other now they probably won't think to come up here and yell at Jerry anymore."

"Some comfort," Carrie sighed, "let's make sure your brother is going to survive."

"Yeah," Chris chuckled, "I guess we should."

Carrie used the glass to make sure he was still breathing properly, which he was. She then put the cold cloth over his head while Chris shook him to try to get his body moving a little. At first there was no response, leading Chris to suspect Alcohol poisoning, but after a few minutes he started to stir and moan a little.

Chris and Carrie, finally convinced that Jerry wasn't in immediate danger, moved over to Chris's side of the room. They were partially keeping their eye on Jerry and mostly necking, just like new teenage lovers do. They kept at it until Jerry finally woke up and had enough sense to throw a pillow at them.

"Christ," Jerry said, still slurring a little, "I have to wake up from a nice drunk spell to see you two sitting over there necking?"

Jerry said that before the synapses started firing. He had no way of knowing that Carrie and Chris had become an official couple that afternoon, so he was rightly confused by seeing his brother and one of their best friends sitting on the bed kissing. The generous helping Jerry had taken of 100 proof Stolichnaya did not help his thought processes much either.

"Ok," Jerry said, still unsure of what he saw, "Did I just see you two kissing or am I still very drunk?"

"I'd say probably both," Chris grinned.

Carrie smiled and both of them had a good laugh at Jerry's confusion. Jerry looked over at them, not sure what was going on.

"What the fuck?" Jerry said, still sounding very dazed.

"Yes," Chris said, deciding to let his brother off the hook, "You did see us making out and no you are not hallucinating. Carrie and I decided we're going to give the couple thing a try."

"That's cool," Jerry said, still slurring a bit, "I wish my day had gone as well."

Chris nodded and tossed his brother one of the sodas he had brought up from the kitchen. Jerry promptly put it on one of his temples, needing the coldness more than he did the liquid at this point. He was still not focusing very well yet.

"We heard about it," Carrie said, "now who did it?"

"Didn't you hear it all?" Jerry scowled, "I did it. Everyone said so."

"Bullshit," Chris said, "shall we go for Double Jeopardy where the scores can really double?"

"I am so screwed," Jerry sighed and slumped down further into his bed.

"If it's any help," Carrie said, "we didn't believe it from the start."

"We found out what happened from Jen MacBride," Chris said, "care to tell us what really happened?"

It was clear that he was not interested in reliving it, but he went ahead and told Chris and Carrie what happened. He was particularly bitter about some of the details and the people involved, especially Andy King and Mort Farnsworth. He finally recounted the sordid affair, with plenty of vulgar insults for Frank Carter and the school in general.

"That about sums it up," Jerry said glumly, "the end result is that I'm fairly well screwed."

"Well, I think we've got the parents convinced that it wasn't your fault," Chris told him, "whether they will do anything or not with the school I don't know. Frankly, probably not. You could use the break from that place anyway."

Chris hoped he was wrong about his parents, but he doubted that he was. Frank Carter deserved to be taken to task for this stupidity, but his parents were too embroiled in their own problems to do anything to help their children. Chris knew that most likely Jerry would have to take his suspension and go back quietly when the furor died down.

"All of the other kids there know that it was Mort's group that did it," Carrie said truthfully, "Andy, Cookie and Mort may be king shit over at Promitter, but everyone knows what really happened. You'll catch hell for a few days, and then it'll all blow over and everything will get normal again."

"Maybe so, Carrie," Jerry sighed, "but does that make everything better? Am I supposed to just let it pass?"

Neither Chris nor Carrie had an answer for him. They knew that the harassment would never truly end for him. He was just the unlucky sort that would never be popular, no matter how much anyone tried to say differently, that is just the way it was. Carrie and Chris would never be winning any major popularity contests either, but they were tolerated. Jerry was the outside loner that never fit in, the dumping ground.

The time of confession being over, Jerry decided to turn back to his drawing. Carrie and Chris were promptly ignored, so they decided to go back to what they had been doing before Jerry had woken up. The fact that Jerry barely took notice of them did not even really surprise them much. Jerry was off into his own world again.

After another hour or so Carrie asked Chris to walk her home. Glad to have the reason to get out of the house, Chris and Carrie quickly slipped out the back door to avoid dealing with Chris's parents, who were still fighting in the living room.

"I still don't know how you live with that bickering," Carrie sighed after they managed to get out, "that would drive me insane."

"You learn to tune it out," Chris shrugged, "it also keeps them off our backs. Frankly, it would be harder to live with them if they actually got along with each other."

"True," Carrie chuckled and held on to his hand as they walked, "so what do you think is going to happen?"

"Jerry will survive," Chris shrugged, "it'll be tough for a few weeks, but by the time he gets back to school most of the kids will have forgotten the incident."

"And you?" Carrie asked, as he was her primary concern now.

"Nothing I can do," Chris shrugged, "I'll help him where I can, but I can't step in and make everything better for him."

"I'm just glad you realize that," Carrie told him and gripped his hand again, "you can't save him if he isn't willing to save himself."

"True that," Chris sighed, "It'll be ok, it will just take a while for him to get better."

"Yeah," Carrie nodded, "anyway, I've got to get inside before my parents start a search party for me."

"See you tomorrow?" Chris asked her.

"You know it, studmuffin," Carrie grinned and kissed him, "see you at school."

Carrie went into the house and Chris started walking slowly back towards home. He cared about what his brother was going through, but he wasn't about to let his brother's problems rule his life. He had a life of his own and wasn't about to sacrifice it for him.

The fight between his parents had finally ended for the night by the time Chris had made it home. His mother had gone to bed, leaving his father sitting alone drinking a beer while watching a fight on the television. Chris went into the living room and sat down on the chair, deciding that he probably needed to talk to his father.

"What's up, pop?" Chris asked his father.

"Not much," Joe Healy said, smiling at his son, "Just relaxing a little."

"Cool," Chris said.

"Where did you slip off to?" Joe asked him, "I heard the door while your mother and I were discussing things."

"I walked Carrie home," Chris shrugged, "and if you call what you and mom were doing a discussion, then that word has some new meaning I'm not aware of."

"Yeah," Joe said, embarrassed by the situation, "You know how it goes, Chris."

"I know, Dad," Chris sighed, "we'll be ok."

"How's your brother doing?" Joe asked him, changing the subject.

"He's hurt, Dad," Chris explained, "he was chewed up and spit out by the popular kids. How would you feel if your private thoughts were stolen and put up all over the school? It's just adding insult to injury that they won and got him suspended to boot."

Joe nodded, trying to understand the situation fully. He was not particularly thrilled that his son had drawn the pictures to be stolen and posted the way they were. He finally decided to ask Chris if he understood what Jerry was going through.

"Why did he draw them?" Joe asked, "I really don't understand that part."

"You mean you never had thoughts like that as a teenager?" Chris asked, chuckling, "I hope you can remember that far back."

"Of course I did," Joe said, "but that isn't the point. I never put them down on paper."

"We don't think the same way Jerry does," Chris reminded his father, "he's an artist. He draws the way some people keep diaries. He keeps his most private thoughts on paper in picture form. He never meant them to be seen by anyone."

"I see," Joe said.

They looked at each other and shared an understanding on the subject. Chris knew that this conversation had gone as far as it needed to, so he decided to go up and read a little before going to bed. Joe was about to go back to the fight on TV when he remembered the other thing he needed to ask Chris about.

"Chris," Joe said, "you wouldn't happen to know what happened to the bottle of vodka, would you?"

"Umm," Chris said, wondering how he could cover for Jerry this time, "I don't know."

"Sure," Joe chuckled, and guessed from Chris's reaction what happened, "Make sure your mother doesn't find the bottle in your room and make sure your brother doesn't get too sick from it."

"He's awake," Chris said, grateful to not have to sugar coat it, "I'll toss the bottle before I go to bed."

"Good idea," Joe nodded, "good night, Chris."

"Night Dad," Chris said as he went upstairs.

Chris disposed of the bottle and took a quick look at the drawing that he was working on. It was a very detailed piece of work and even more disturbing than most of his recent works. It was a realistic piece that detailed the gory death of Morton Farnsworth. Chris shuddered at the picture and retreated to his side of the room. He read a little bit of one of his books and then went to sleep with dreams of Carrie leading his young mind away from the reality of the day past.
Chapter 8: November 16, 1985

Exploration Interlude

Jerry served out his week of suspension quietly, going back to school without fanfare or further incident. Jerry spent most of his waking hours working on his art project, which he finally finished and sent in on November 15, the last possible date.

Chris and Carrie helped make Jerry's return as smooth as possible by creating more attention as one of the most obvious couples in the school. Most of the kids thought that Carrie could do better, but it was also perfectly clear that she did not want to. Carrie and Chris were together whenever they could be.

On November 16 the entire crew was hanging out in the tunnel they had discovered the month before. Carrie and Chris were huddling together in a corner while they watched Jerry, Tommy and Jason play their usual game of spades.

"Don't you ever get sick of that game?" Chris asked them.

"Don't you two ever get sick of making out?" Jason retorted.

Jerry chuckled quietly and shuffled the cards. Tommy could not help but laugh. Chris was not sure how to respond, but Carrie managed to take care of that task for him.

"You'll never know until you get a chance to try it," Carrie winked and kissed Chris in an exceptionally showy way.

"Get a room," Tommy said and tossed a wadded up piece of paper at them, "I really don't need to see that."

"Why do you think I did it?" Carrie asked him when she finally came up for air.

"I rather thought it was because you liked it," Chris grinned.

"There's that too," Carrie admitted nuzzled his nose, causing Tommy and Jason to turn back to Jerry and the game.

Jerry Healy barely took notice of what his brother, or anyone else, did anymore. He was slowly disconnecting himself from society. His brother and the others noticed, but they were all at a loss on how to do anything about it.

He would still play cards occasionally, but most of the time he would just sit back and draw. He would not even crack jokes like he used to. The Jerry Healy they had grown up with was slowly fading away.

"We need something to do," Tommy said, "otherwise those two are going to sit there and neck all day."

"I saw some kids trying to dig under the bricked door to one of the tunnels last week," Jason said, "I don't know how far they got, but even if the cops had it filled back in it's probably loose enough to pull out easily again. Anyone care to try?"

"Sounds dangerous," Carrie said, not liking the sound of it.

"Could be fun," Chris said, "that thing has been bricked over for years. Never know what's back there."

"Jerry?" Tommy asked him.

"Sure," Jerry said, showing all the enthusiasm of a man being led to his execution.

"All right," Carrie shrugged, "if you guys are for it, the least I can do is come along and make sure you don't kill yourselves."

The five of them made their way over to the other tunnel that Jason had noticed and found that the older kids had quit about half way through the digging. Most likely the police had stopped them, as the tunnel's location was at the bend of one of the park drives. As such, it was regularly patrolled and it would be difficult to get away from scrutiny.

"This doesn't look so bad," Jason said, "we should be able to get enough out to get our scrawny butts through the hole fairly quick."

"Just so long as it's big enough to handle mine," Chris said, being the largest of the five.

"I think we can accommodate you," Tommy grinned as he kneeled down and moved a little dirt with his hand, "it's loose. With rocks and hands we should be able to get this hole down to at least a foot, maybe 18 inches."

"Go ahead," Carrie said, still not liking the idea, "I'll keep an eye out for cops."

"Don't worry," Chris said as he kissed Carrie on the cheek, "we'll be careful."

"You'd better," Carrie smiled, "I don't know what I'd do if you ended up mashed under a pile of rock."

"You'd probably enjoy it only slightly more than I would," Chris grinned and went to join the others.

Carrie positioned herself in the rocks about ten feet from the opening. It gave her a full view of both sides of the bend. She would be able to see any approaching police cars before they could see what the boys were up to.

It took them a solid fifteen minutes of digging to get a hole they could stick their heads through. Another ten minutes saw a hole that even Chris could have wriggled through without much difficulty.

"Awesome," Jason said, "who gets to be the first to go in?"

"That hole is still rather small," Chris said, "I'll go in last, just in case."

"It was your idea, Jason," Tommy said, "I'll let you have it."

"Doesn't matter to me," Jason shrugged, "Jerry?"

"I'll go," he shrugged. His life did not matter that much to him by this point anyway.

Jerry got down on the ground and slid into the hole, making it through easily. He turned on his little flashlight and looked around, seeing a tunnel that was similar to the one they tended to inhabit. There was much more stuff inside, however. It looked like it had been used as a dumping ground before being bricked up sometime after World War II.

"Come on in," Jerry said to the others outside the hole.

"All right!" Jason said and scrambled into the hole.

"Be careful Tommy," Carrie said as her brother headed for the hole.

"I will, no worries," Tommy grinned.

Chris was about ready to go into the hole when he saw one of the dull brown cruisers the park police used starting to turn in their direction.

"Shit," he mumbled and then shouted into the hole, "stay put. There are cops. Carrie and I will get rid of them."

"Get up here," Carrie said quickly, "let's do our thing and try to distract attention from them."

"Be right up," Chris said as he started to climb.

He sat with Carrie and smiled. They knew that all they had to do was give an appearance of normality. Luckily, Chris had not done much of the digging so he was not abnormally dirty. They started looking into each other's eyes as they normally did and hoped that the park policeman would pass them by.

Their luck was not holding out that day, however, as the park policeman noticed the two teenagers and the pile of recently turned up dirt. He pulled his car over to the side of the road and looked up at Carrie and Chris, who were attempting to not pay him any mind.

"Excuse me," the befuddled officer said as he looked around, "what's going on here?"

"Not much," Chris said, holding Carrie's hand to avoid having it shaking, "Just relaxing a bit out here with my girlfriend here."

"Really," the officer said, "what's with the turned up dirt down here?"

"It was that way when we got here," Carrie shrugged, not entirely lying, "Not sure why it was done. Who cares what is in there?"

"Happens every year," the officer shrugged, buying it for now, "Some kids try to explore the old tunnels that line this place. Usually want to use it as a private place to party."

"I can think of warmer places to party, thank you," Chris said, "right hon?"

"Absolutely," she smiled and cuddled closer to her man, "If it's a party you're looking for, that is..."

The park policeman chuckled and was actually satisfied that nothing untoward was going on. He made a note to let the groundskeepers know about the new hole so they could fill it in and maybe concrete it shut this time. He smiled and tipped his hat to Chris and Carrie and turned around to go to his car.

He had made it to his car and was half way inside when he heard a new voice emanating from the area. Jerry Healy had stuck his head out and shouted out for his brother.

"Hey Chris!" Jerry shouted, "Are you coming in or not?"

The park cop got out of his car and walked back over, ordering Jerry to come out of the hole, which he did without adieu. Carrie and Chris could only look at each other in horror. They had actually gotten away with it until Jerry had blown it. The officer called them down and they came down slowly.

"Is there anyone else in there?" The officer asked them.

"What is going on out there?" Jason asked, sticking his head out and getting busted as well.

"Come out, Jase," Chris said, knowing they were beaten this round.

Jason slid out of the tunnel, followed quickly by Tommy who didn't want to be left alone in that dark tunnel. The cop just shook his head as he watched them exit the tunnel.

"What is it with you kids?" the officer asked them, "Why do you have to go into those places?"

"Thrill of the unknown?" Chris asked.

"Because we can," Tommy shrugged.

"Those tunnels were walled off because they were dangerous," the officer said, beginning his lecture, "If something goes wrong in there and one of you get hurt, who's going to be able to come save you? Do you think I could get through that little hole?"

"I'm amazed he can get into his car," Jason muttered to Tommy, who had to fight to keep from cracking up.

"There is nothing funny about this young man," the officer said.

Then the officer went on and on for about ten minutes about how dangerous what they were doing was and how it was such a bad idea. Luckily, the park policeman had no way to take all of them in and he was not inclined to do it anyway. After the lecture he let them all go. They did what any red-blooded teenagers would do, retreat to the tunnel that they knew.

"Well, that was nice," Carrie said, "any other ideas?"

"Yeah," Jason said, "try again."

"No thanks," Chris said, "I'd prefer not to be arrested today."

"Chicken," Jason said.

"Bacawk!" Chris said.

"How bout you Tommy?" Jason asked him.

"I'm in," Tommy said, "you know that."

"Jerry?" Jason asked.

"Sure," he said with all the emotion of a corpse.

"Don't sound too enthused by this," Jason said, "you coming, Carrie?"

"I'll pass," Carrie said, "I'll stay here with Chris."

"Have fun," Jason said, "let's go guys, we've got a tunnel to explore."

"Don't get caught," Chris said, "I'm not bailing your ass out of jail, Jerry."

"Don't worry," Jerry said solemnly, "we won't get caught."

Chris and Carrie shuddered slightly at the tone as they watched the three of them file out of the tunnel. When the others were gone they were embracing again, mainly to share their body heat. Chris tussled her hair softly. He loved the silky feel of her wavy brown hair.

"They're crazy," Carrie said, "they're going to get caught again."

"Let them," Chris shrugged, "nothing we can do."

"Is Jerry doing any better?" Carrie asked.

"Nope," Chris sighed, "he gets worse by the day. I don't know what to do."

"Talk to your parents?" Carrie suggested.

"They don't care anymore," he shrugged, "they barely notice we exist unless we do something wrong. All they care about is fighting nowadays."

"I don't know what to tell you," Carrie sighed, "I wish I could help."

"You are helping," Chris reminded her, "you're here for me. What I have with you is one of the few decent things I have in my life right now. That alone helps more than you will ever know."

Carrie smiled and kissed him. The conversation was over for the moment and true feelings had been expressed. Now it was time for the teenagers to do what teenagers did best, let their hormones go.

While Chris and Carrie were busy in the H.E.L.L. tunnel the other three boys had successfully regained entrance into the other tunnel and were beginning to poke around in the pile of junk that had been left behind by the army nearly 40 years before.

"This is neat man," Tommy said as he looked at an old helmet, "wonder why they closed it up in here."

"Cheaper than dumping it, probably," Jason said, "what do you think, Jerry?"

Jerry merely shrugged. The other two ignored him and continued looking through things. A few minutes later Tommy and Jason came upon a little mouse nest that had several baby mice in it.

"Cute," Tommy said, "this place is probably crawling with them."

"I don't know," Jason said, "what can you do?"

"You can do this," Jerry said as he brought down a heavy piece of wood down hard on the nest. The squeaking quit entirely as Jerry Healy crushed the life out of those baby mice. Jason and Tommy were horrified by the display of brutality, but Jerry was unaffected by what he had done.

"More vermin gone," Jerry shrugged and went off to look at another pile.

Tommy and Jason watched as Jerry went over to look at another pile, well on the other end of the tunnel area. They waited until he was out of earshot to talk about him.

"Did you see the look on his face?" Tommy asked Jason.

"Yeah," Jason sighed, "it wasn't a good look."

"What should we do?" Tommy wondered.

"Keep going for now," Jason shrugged, "and be sure to tell Chris later."

"Good idea," Tommy nodded, "let's go see what he's doing now."

"I'm not sure I want to know," Jason said softly as they followed.

It was to prove to be a fruitless thing, them telling Chris about the incident. They let themselves forget about it and Chris lacked yet another clue about how his brother's mental state was disintegrating. It was a slow process, but it was becoming more and more visible. Unfortunately for many people, nobody was really looking for the signs.

Chapter 9: November 17, 1985

Contextual Rejection

Chris avoided his parents again by hanging out with the gang in the cave. The first snow had finally fallen, but surprisingly the tunnel actually managed to remain warm, still allowing them to sit and play cards or do other things that required at least some mobility.

Jerry was not with them that day, so they were playing another one of their mainstay games, general trivia. Carrie had brought out her deck of trivial pursuit cards and there was a lively game going, with Tommy and Chris running neck and neck. Jason, as usual for trivia, was running far behind.

"Dammit," Tommy said as he blew a question, "I can never get those stupid baseball questions right."

"You're the one that requested the category, Tommy," Carrie reminded him.

"That doesn't make it any easier when I blow it," Tommy grinned, "I was hoping for football."

"Don't complain," Jason said, "I'm so far behind that I won't even make up the difference next game."

"Oh," Chris chuckled as he kicked back and smiled, "quit whining you two, it's my turn."

"What do you want this time, Chris?" Carrie asked him.

"History," Chris chuckled, "I think I've done enough entertainment for one day."

Chris had done entertainment for the past five questions and gotten them all right, much to the annoyance of the others.

"All right," Carrie said as she pulled the card, "the famous American Revolutionary War Battle of Bunker Hill didn't actually take place on Bunker Hill. Where did it actually take place?"

"Breed's Hill," Chris said immediately, his mastery of trivial information showing again.

"Another one for my man," Carrie chuckled and marked on the wall.

"I'm only one behind," Tommy said, "I can still come back."

"Yes," Chris admitted, "but I have to miss the next one for you to do it. I'm at 19 and the game is to 20."

"We'll see," Tommy said, "it's Jason's turn anyway."

"I'll pass," Jason chuckled, "let Tommy go. See if he can win one for a change."

"Fat chance," Chris grinned.

"Gee, thanks," Tommy said, "ok sis, give me a literature question."

"You got it," Carrie nodded and looked at the card, "this should be fairly easy for you. What was the name of the lead character of Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter?"

"Hester Prynne," Tommy grinned, "I always knew that Miss Brown made me read that thing for a reason."

"I always thought it was to bore us to death, personally," Jason shrugged.

"Could have been worse," Chris grinned, "at least she tried to make it interesting."

"Just choose your poison, Healy," Tommy grinned, "I still want to win this thing before we collect social security."

"Only if I get this question wrong, Tommy," Chris grinned, "I'll take another entertainment question."

"Figures," Jason groaned, "here we go again. At least make it a difficult one, Carrie."

"He gets the top of the pile, just like you two did," Carrie grinned, "here we go, you guys ready?"

"Shoot," Chris smiled.

"Get it over with," Tommy said as he lay back on the bench.

"Who was the Carly Simon song You're So Vain written about?" Carrie asked him.

"He'll never get this," Tommy grinned, planning on winning with the next question.

"Warren Beatty," Chris said without skipping a beat.

"See," Tommy said and then saw the look on his sister's face, "what?"

"He's right," Carrie said and then watched her brother.

"No way!" Tommy said and sat bolt upright, "There is no way in hell anyone can know that one!"

"Quite obviously I did," Chris grinned.

"I can show you the card if you like," Carrie laughed as she held the light on it for her brother, "he got it, and he wins."

"He cheated!" Tommy exclaimed, "He had to have. Nobody could have known that!"

"I saw it on TV once," Chris grinned, "Entertainment Tonight I think it was. It's one of those useless things that you never remember until you're asked."

"Looks like you screwed the pooch again, Tommy," Jason chuckled, "Chris is still the winner and champeen!"

Before they could argue about it anymore Jerry Healy came tearing into the tunnel holding on to a standard letter with a printed letterhead that none of them could read fully in the darkness. Jerry had obviously been running much more than he was used to and was completely out of breath. Everyone looked at him wondering what was going to happen next.

"What's up, Jerry?" Chris asked him, concerned, "Why all the running?"

"Just got this in the mail," Jerry said between pants, "from the art contest."

"So what does it say?" Carrie asked him, hoping it was good news. She thought that Jerry deserved some at this point.

"Don't know," Jerry said, "Haven't... opened..."

"Well, open it you idiot!" Jason exclaimed, "You won't know until you do."

"I... Can't..." Jerry said, "You do it, Chris."

"Sure," Chris shrugged and ripped open the envelope, "care to bring that flashlight over here, hon?"

"Ok," Carrie nodded and sat beside her boyfriend, "let's do it."

Prophetic words indeed from her. They were the same words spoken by Gary Gilmore just before his 1977 execution. None of them there knew it yet, but this letter was going to have the same effect on the already damaged psyche of young Jerry Healy. Chris was the first to begin to fathom its effect when he started to read the printed page.

"From Alan Montgomery," Chris read, building up the anticipation like the storyteller he was, "Thanksgiving art contest submission board chairman."

"Is it a form letter?" Jason asked.

"Doesn't look like it," Chris said, "this looks to be directly to Jerry."

"That's a good sign," Tommy shrugged, "they usually use form letters for rejections."

"Keep reading, Chris," Carrie said as she held the light for him.

"Your submission has been received and reviewed by this commission for the thanksgiving contest," Chris continued, then his face dropped, "However, your submission does not meet our guidelines and cannot be accepted. The images depicted are not appropriate for public viewing and further submissions from you will be ignored. You may wish to consult..."

"Chris," Carrie said quietly, stopping him from reading anymore. She was able to see the look on Jerry's face.

"Give me that," Jerry said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Chris tried to avoid handing it to him, but knew that Jerry wouldn't take no for an answer. He handed it and a flashlight over. Nobody knew what to say as Jerry read and reread the letter, his eyes alternating from defeat to murder. Chris had seen the look in his brother's eyes before, during the altercation at the beginning of the summer.

Chris thought for a few minutes that his brother was going to lose it completely, but he finally crumpled up the letter and tossed it on the floor of the tunnel. He then stood up and walked out of the cave.

"Jerry!" Chris shouted, "Come on back, man!"

Jerry wasn't listening to his brother. He slipped out the window and kept on going out into the falling snow. Chris went to the window and was about to shout after him again when Carrie came up and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Should I go after him?" Chris asked his girl.

"I don't know," Carrie sighed, "I've never seen him like this."

"How bad was it, Chris?" Jason asked him.

"The motherfucker who wrote that letter was one cold son of a bitch," Chris said, "I don't think he could have been more hurtful to Jerry if he tried."

Carrie wrapped her arm around Chris and they sat down while they tried to figure out what to do. Chris picked up the letter and folded it up to put in his pocket. He did not know why he did that, but years later he would be glad he did. That letter was one of the last steps in the disintegration of his brother.

"I've got to go after him," Chris sighed, "I can't leave him like this."

"Be careful," Carrie said and kissed his nose lightly, "you know how he can get."

"He won't hurt me," Chris said, "he might hurt someone else or himself, but not me."

"If you say so," Carrie sighed, not sure what Jerry was capable of anymore, "Just be careful for me, ok?"

Chris smiled at her halfheartedly and climbed out into the falling snow. He followed his brother's fading footprints towards the breakwater. Jerry had made the treacherous trip a quarter mile out into the bay over the rocks. Chris sighed and followed his brother, not wanting to let him do something stupid out there.

It took him a full ten minutes longer than it had taken the much more agile and much less careful Jerry to cross the breakwater. By the time Chris reached the lighthouse his brother was sitting alone on a cold and wet rock that was just the right size for a seat. Chris went over and sat down next to him, looking at his brother's blank expression.

"Jerry," Chris said, his breath being the one gone this time, "You ok there?"

There was no answer from his twin brother.

"Jerry?" Chris asked again, hoping to get some form of response.

Finally, after a few minutes of standing there Jerry turned and faced him a little. His eyes looked completely empty, almost as if they had sunken completely into his head. His hair was out of place and looked like it had not been combed in days. The wind out there on the breakwater made it worse. Jerry Healy looked a lot like a zombie, just as if the letter had just drained the remaining life out of him.

"What is left for me, Chris?" Jerry asked his brother.

"Your life isn't over because one idiot didn't like your stuff," Chris said, "Van Gogh was rejected hundreds of times. His paintings are now among the most valuable in the world! All you have to do is keep trying."

"Trying," Jerry chuckled, "I've been trying all my life. I'm sick of just trying. I want to succeed for once. I want to be known."

"You will be, bro," Chris said, "it just takes time."

"Time," Jerry said ominously, "is one thing I don't have anymore."

With that he turned and started looking out into the bay again. Chris tried again to get him to talk, but it was like talking to a brick wall. He finally gave up and decided to ford his way back over the breakwater. Carrie was waiting for him with a cup of hot chocolate from the nearest store when he got back to the shore.

"This will help fight the cold a little," Carrie said with a smile, "Is he still out there?"

"Yeah," Chris sighed, "its like there's no life left in him."

"That letter was brutal, Chris," Carrie sighed, "it's not like your brother has been the most stable person as of late anyway."

"What can I do?" Chris asked her.

"If he won't talk to you he won't talk to anyone," Carrie reminded him, "you can't help him if he won't let you."

"I know it," Chris said.

"Come on," she said as she took a sip of cocoa, "let's go back to my house. We can sit where it's warm and let Tommy win some trivia."

"Ok," Chris sighed, looking out one last time at the lighthouse that he knew his brother was sitting at, "Let's go."

Chris spent the rest of the afternoon with Carrie and Tommy, losing pitifully at trivia because his mind was on his brother's plight. When it came time for Tommy and Carrie to go to dinner Chris peacefully slipped out the door and headed back towards the house.

Chris found that his parents had decided not to bother with dinner that night, though it was obvious that they had been there and fought. Chris made himself a quick sandwich in the kitchen and looked around for either one of his parents. His father was nowhere to be seen. He climbed the steps into the house and looked into his parents' room. His mother was curled up on the bed, crying hard.

"Mom?" Chris said quietly, wondering if she was all right.

She ignored him. Her world was falling apart around her, just like the world her kids lived in. Chris tried in vain a few more times to get her to talk. Giving up on the prospect he decided to head into his room and relax before he had to go to school the next day.

When he opened the door, however, Chris Healy saw something that he had never once expected to see again. The walls of the room he had shared with his brother were clear, totally devoid of any drawings at all. He could see the ugly wallpaper for the first time in many years.

"Jesus H. Christ," Chris said as he looked around.

Jerry was lying down on the bed facing the ceiling. Chris tried to talk to him, but Jerry was having none of it. Like mother, like son. Chris finally gave up and decided to go to bed to forget how his entire family was falling apart.

He turned off the light, which did not affect Jerry at all, and stared at the ceiling himself, all the while dreaming of Carrie and a home life that did not quite resemble hell so much.
Chapter 10: November 29, 1985

First Blood

After a particularly annoying Thanksgiving Day that had made the Healy Household into a war zone, Chris Healy had retreated into his room and spent about half the night reading Clive Cussler's Deep Six. Jerry disappeared about half way through the day and Chris did not bother to try to find out where he was.

When the phone began ringing at around eight the next morning Chris had been asleep maybe five and a half hours. He rolled out of bed and went into his parents' room to answer the phone. His parents had both gone to work, leaving him as the only living person in the house. Jerry was still nowhere to be found.

"Hello?" Chris said into the phone.

"Chris?" Carrie asked into the phone.

"Yeah," Chris said, his voice slurred with sleep, "What's up, Carrie?"

"Go turn on the TV, Chris," Carrie instructed him.

"What?" Chris asked, "It's too early in the morning for this."

"I'm serious Chris," Carrie said, the trembling evident in her voice, "Please turn on the TV."

"Ok," Chris said, detecting the seriousness in her voice, "Call me back in two minutes. I'll pick up in the living room."

"Ok," Carrie said and put down the phone.

Chris groaned and went downstairs to the family television. He sat down in his father's chair and used the remote control to turn on the news. He was not expecting to see the scene he saw on the news.

"And now to field reporter Sean Jones for an on the spot report of the murder of a local teenager," the overly perky news-bimbo said with a straight face, "Sean? What's happening over there?"

"Well, Katie," Jones said, "it appears that what we have here is an extremely brutal murder of a young woman. From what the initial police statements have said the victim was stabbed at least 14 times with a very large knife."

The phone rang and Chris picked it up without a greeting, knowing that it was Carrie.

"What's this all about, kiddo?" Chris asked.

"Keep watching," she said, her voice still quaking a little.

"Ok," Chris said, and watched the painfully annoying news bimbo continue.

"Do the police have any suspects in this murder," she continued, still smiling very inappropriately, "And do we have any confirmation as to who the victim is?"

"The police have notified the family of the young woman," Jones said, trying to cover his smugness at being the first one to break the story, "As such they've released that her name was Anne Michelle Jenkins, only fifteen years of age."

"Only fifteen..." the news bimbo started before Chris clicked off the television.

"Holy shit," was all Chris managed to say, "when did you find out about this?"

"Jen MacBride called me a few hours ago when the cops showed up," Carrie said, "She lives next door and needed someone to talk to. It scared the hell out of me."

"Tell me about it," Chris sighed, "Goddamn."

"I don't envy you having to tell your brother about this," Carrie said.

"I can't tell him now," Chris said, "he isn't here. Hasn't been here all night."

"You don't think..." Carrie said, hating herself for the thought.

"Jerry isn't that sick," Chris said, almost believing it, "Besides. He'd never do anything to hurt her."

"True," Carrie said, though she was still far from convinced, "Listen, can you come over here for a while? I need you."

"Yeah," Chris said, "give me a little bit to shower and get fully dressed. I'll be there as soon as I can though."

"Thanks," Carrie said, "sorry to wake you up."

"I would wake you up too," Chris nodded, "I'll be there in a few."

Chris jumped into the shower and quickly got ready. The situation was not to his liking and he could not get it out of his head. He briefly wondered just where his brother had been in the previous 24 hours. Unfortunately for Chris, it was still too big a leap of logic for him at this point.

Chris knew that it was likely that he'd be snowed upon, so he dressed in full cold weather gear. He quickly jogged towards Carrie's house, hoping to miss the snow. There is no missing mother nature, however, and the snow caught him about half way there. By the time he got to Carrie's front door he was covered in the white stuff that was falling hard.

"Hiya studmuffin," Carrie said as she answered the door, "come on in, you look frozen."

"I got caught by the front that was moving in," Chris shrugged, "I'll warm up in a few."

"Yeah," Carrie said as she hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek after making sure her parents were not around, "Thanks for coming, Chris."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Chris said, "you know that if you need me, I'm here. I don't care what it is."

She smiled at him and he melted, just as he always did when she did that. After getting a cup of cocoa they retreated to the den where Tommy was still staring fixedly at the television set.

"I still can't believe this shit," Tommy said, "this is just too weird."

"Anything new on it?" Chris asked him.

"No," Tommy said, "they just keep repeating themselves over and over again."

"It's like they're vultures," Carrie said with disgust, "picking at the poor girl's body."

"Now you know why I refuse to watch the news," Chris sighed.

They sat there and watched the continuing news coverage for a while, still unsure of what to do. Chris held Carrie closely as they watched in horror as the body bag containing the mortal remains of one of their classmates was carried out though the snow. Though there was a black bag hiding the fact that she was dead, it was still a somber sight.

"We gotta get out of here," Carrie said solemnly, "want to try the cave?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Chris agreed, "any place that there is no TV is good with me at this point."

"Tommy?" Carrie asked him.

"Yeah," Tommy said, "let's get some air."

The three of them bundled up and ventured out into the snow again. It was still coming down rather briskly, though it was nowhere near blizzard conditions. They headed to the park, knowing they would not have to worry too much about other people. Very few people bothered to venture out to the park in the snow.

"Ok," Tommy said, "it's definitely cold out here."

"It should be warmer in the cave," Chris said, "the snow outside usually makes a pretty good insulator."

"Too good in this case," Carrie said as they approached, "the entrance is iced over."

"Let's see how bad," Chris said and went over to it, pushing on it a little.

"Doesn't look good," Tommy frowned.

"I could get through it in ten minutes if I had gloves and a garden trowel," Chris said, "not going to try it bare handed though. I'm not in the mood for frostbite."

"Any suggestions then?" Tommy asked.

"Well," Chris said, "we've already been to your place once. Let's see if the snow has driven my brother back to the house. He probably needs to be told anyway."

"If nothing else we can get that stuff and come back here," Carrie said, "I like that idea."

"Anything beats standing out here freezing our asses off," Tommy said, "let's get moving."

The three of them fought their way up the hill and went in to the Healy home. Luckily for them Chris's parents were nowhere to be found. Chris went over to the stove and started the hot water for the next round of hot chocolate, which was definitely going to be needed after venturing outside in that slop.

"Warmth," Carrie said with a smile as she sat down at the table.

"Yeah," Chris said, "not our usual thing lately."

"Think Jerry is here?" Tommy asked.

"If you'll watch the water for the cocoa," Chris said, "I'll go find out and give him the bad news if he's here."

"Shout if you need me," Carrie said.

"Will do," Chris said and went up the stairs to his room.

Jerry Healy had actually decided to come in out of the snow for a bit. He was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, which had become his standard hobby for the past week. Chris wondered if Jerry was trying to memorize the ceiling tiles in the room.

"Jerry," Chris said, trying to get his brother's attention.

Jerry did not bother to answer him. Chris frowned and threw a pillow at his brother.

"Jerry," Chris repeated, "wake up. You there?"

"Yeah," Jerry said, his voice toneless and his eyes not moving from their fixed spot on the ceiling, "What do you want, Chris?"

"Where were you last night man?" Chris asked him, "I haven't seen you around much."

"I was sitting out at the lighthouse," Jerry lied, "thinking."

"Have you seen the news today?" Chris asked him, hoping to avoid having to be the one to tell him about Annie.

"No," Jerry said, his eyes going towards his brother for the first time, "I haven't watched TV in a week."

Chris sighed and sat down on the edge of his brother's bed. He really did not know how to tell Jerry about Annie's death

"I don't know how to tell you this, bro," Chris said.

Jerry sat up a little, wondering what his brother was leading up to. He still had that dead expression in his eyes that scared Chris to death. Chris sucked it up and decided that he had to tell his brother, as it was the only right thing to do.

"Annie Jenkins was murdered last night," Chris told him.

"Do they know who did it?" Jerry asked him, his face still devoid of emotion.

"Not yet," Chris admitted, "I was watching the coverage with Carrie and Tommy for a while."

"Great," Jerry said, his tone even but showing a hint sadness for the first time, "Did they do anything to her other than kill her?"

"What do you mean?" Chris asked him.

"Rape," Jerry asked, his tone still very even and very emotionless, "Do they know if she was raped?"

"I don't know," Chris said honestly, "they didn't say on the news."

Jerry said nothing else to his brother, just sat back on his bed again and closed his eyes. Chris debated on trying to talk to Jerry some more, but decided that it would be more trouble than it was worth. He left his brother alone in their bedroom and went to the much more welcome company of Tommy and Carrie.

"Was he there?" Carrie asked him.

"Look at his face," Tommy told his sister, "Jerry was there."

"Yeah," Chris sighed and sat down, "he was there."

Carrie slid a cup of hot chocolate over to him and he took a large sip of the warm liquid. He looked at them and almost wanted to start crying. It was sad when even the death of the girl he had had a crush on for years could no longer faze his brother. Chris just had no idea what to do with him anymore.

"He's getting worse, isn't he?" Carrie asked her boyfriend.

"Worse each day," Chris said, "I don't even know where he goes anymore."

"Heh," Tommy said, "you sure you want to?"

"Not particularly," Chris admitted, "I just don't understand him anymore."

"I never did," Tommy shrugged, "But I know where you're coming from."

"If I lost my touch with Tommy I'd be going seriously nuts," Carrie said, "do you even feel him anymore?"

"No," Chris sighed, "not at all. It's as if he's disappeared off the map and cut himself off from me. In some ways I'm rather grateful for that, cause I'm not sure I want to know any longer."

"That scares me more than anything else I've heard about your brother," Carrie said, "I can't imagine that feeling."

"There's nothing you can do about it Chris," Tommy shrugged, "he'll open up when he wants to open up."

"If he wants to open up," Chris said, "he just retreats more and more. I'm worried about him."

"I'd be worried about you if you weren't," Carrie smiled and finished off her cocoa, "but Tommy is right. There is nothing you can do."

"Yes, there is," Chris said, "I've had it up to here with the whole thing. For weeks I've had to deal with my parents who want to kill each other, my brother who hates the world, and everything that goes along with both of those headaches. I'm sick of it."

"So what do you want to do?" Carrie asked him.

"I want to get out of here for a while," Chris said, "let's go down and deice the cave and hang out there. No parents, no Jerry, no more news about Annie's death. What do you say?"

"I'm in," Carrie said, "Tommy?"

"Sure," Tommy shrugged, "beats sitting at home."

"Let's go," Chris said, smiling his first real smile of the day.

The three of them bundled up again and headed back out into the weather. The snow had pretty well stopped for the moment, but there was enough of it left on the ground to make it slow and messy going down to the park.

As the weather lightened up so did their moods. A lot of serious stuff had been happening and they needed to blow off some steam. Tommy started the snowball fight by letting off a poorly aimed shot at Chris that missed by a mile.

Chris went for cover behind a tree and scooped up a handful of the wet snow. While he was packing his snowball to throw at Tommy, Carrie threw a well-aimed shot that caught Chris right up side the head.

"Gotcha!" Carrie exclaimed, laughing hysterically.

"Hey!" Chris exclaimed, and rethought his choice of targets. He maneuvered for a better shot at Carrie and launched the snowball at her, which she easily dodged.

"Nice try!" Carrie exclaimed, still laughing.

Chris did not have any luck in this snowball fight, because Tommy threw another well-aimed snowball at Chris's back, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling face first into the snow.

He sighed and then thought about trying to get up. When he finally removed enough of the snow to see again he saw Carrie and Tommy standing above him.

"You are a pitiful sight," Carrie giggled and offered her man a hand, "come on."

"Sure," Chris said and took her hand. He then promptly dragged her down into the snow on top of him.

"Humph," Carrie said as she pulled back her hair a little.

"Good pull," Tommy chuckled.

"Two can play at this game," Chris chuckled.

Carrie smiled and started giggling as she looked into Chris's eyes. Chris leaned forward a little and kissed her full on the lips, getting back as good as he gave from her. They went on like that until suddenly a snowball hit Chris in the back of the head, knocking his forehead into Carrie's.

It was a perfect shot, a once in a lifetime shot in fact. It looked like something that you would expect to see in a Three Stooges or Laurel and Hardy film. Both of them yelped in pain as their heads cracked together with quite a bit of force. They turned around and saw Tommy standing there grinning, very pleased with himself for actually making that shot.

Chris and Carrie looked at each other and wordlessly came to an agreement. Tommy had to pay for that one. They got up off the ground and started running after Tommy. Tommy had no illusion of what waited if they caught him, so he decided to run, laughing all the way.

Chris never could run very fast, but Carrie more than made up for it due to having longer legs than her brother. The chase lasted only a few minutes, ending when Carrie tackled him into the snow, slowing Tommy down long enough for Chris to catch up and grab hold.

"Is that any way to treat a pair of young lovers?" Chris asked him, as he picked up a handful of snow, "Huh?"

"I don't think so," Carrie said.

Chris proceeded to perform a ritual commonly known in snowy climates as a whitewash. For those of you who grew up in places where snow was not as common as it was in the southern Maine town they lived in, a whitewash is forcibly cramming as much snow into the victim's face as possible. It is usually done as a joke between friends or occasionally by the local bully as they plied their trade. In this case it was the former, so Chris did not push the snow too hard.

"Is that any way to treat your dear, sweet loving sister?" Carrie giggled and asked her brother as she held him down for Chris to finish the whitewash, "You really should have more respect."

"Respect?" Tommy asked as he spit out pieces of snow, "You two have got to be kidding me? You were more interested in making out than watching your own asses."

"We probably should head to the cave," Chris said, still chuckling, "It looks like it's about to start snowing again."

"It should be warmer in there," Carrie agreed, "Tommy looks like he needs that right now."

"I won't deny it," Tommy said, "I'm going to be picking snow out of my hair for an hour."

Chris helped Tommy up and the three of them walked over towards the cave. Their mood was rather jovial as they continued towards the cave, the thoughts of Annie's death and the problems with Jerry were left in the background. As they approached the cave they began to notice that the area had already been disturbed.

"What's going on here?" Chris asked them, "Has someone else found our little place?"

"I don't think the boogey man opened up that cave," Carrie said, deadpan, "The question is who?"

"I think we should find out," Tommy said, "that's our place in there."

"It could be someone dangerous," Carrie said.

"It certainly doesn't sound dangerous," Chris said as he approached the entrance, "it sounds an awful lot like that porno movie your cousin showed Tommy and me last summer."

"Say what?" Carrie asked and looked at her brother, "What porno movie?"

"Umm," Tommy said, blushing bright red, "Chris, you were supposed to keep that a secret."

"Doesn't matter now," Chris chuckled, "but all that's missing from the soundtrack coming from there is the bad boom chicka boom song."

"He's right," Tommy said, "someone is having fun down there."

"I wouldn't know," Carrie said, grinning, "I'm sure I'll find out someday."

"Too much information," Tommy said, "I think it's time to end the party though. This is our place."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Chris said, knowing that it could be him and Carrie in there someday.

Carrie nodded at her boyfriend and grabbed on to his shoulder, approving of the sentiment. Unfortunately for them, Tommy did not intend to let it all lie. Before saying anything else that would give Carrie or Chris a chance to stop him, Tommy climbed through the window entrance of the tunnel.

"Tommy!" Carrie started to shout after her brother, but Chris put his finger on her lips.

"Nothing you can do, kiddo," Chris said softly, "let's hope that whoever it is isn't too pissed."

"That could be us someday you know," Carrie said, a tear forming in her eye.

"It's ok, Carrie," Chris said and kissed her, "we'll have a better location than this."

"We'd better," she grinned, "I'll be disappointed in you if we have to resort to this place."

"I haven't heard anything yet," Chris said, "I wonder what's going on."

"I give it another ten seconds," Carrie said.

She was five seconds early, because they heard some screaming. Instead of the combination of male and female voices they expected to hear, they heard three distinct male screams. It wasn't but a few beats later that Tommy came out, running like a bat out of hell. He tore out of that window as if hell itself was closing at his heels.

"What the hell?" Carrie asked as she watched her brother run like the wind.

"I don't know," Chris said, alarmed, "but I think I'd better find out."

"It could be dangerous," Carrie said, concerned.

"He would have grabbed us in that case," Chris said, shaking his head, "Go on after him, I'll check out down there."

"Ok," Carrie said and kissed him quick, "be careful, studmuffin."

She went off after her brother while Chris slipped into the window. He pondered for a second on picking up a weapon of some sort, but decided that the danger factor was minimal. Chris went to the end of the tunnel and looked around the bend. He damn near lost his balance when he saw what had sent Tommy running.

"Jason," Chris said as he looked over Jason and his friend, "I guess Tommy walked in on something."

Tommy Caron had definitely walked in on something. Jason Brigand and another boy, to be exact. Michael Sanders had always been one of the boys that people wondered about. There was no need for Tommy or Chris to wonder about him or Jason anymore. They were both naked as jaybirds and it was not hard to imagine what they had been up to on the blanket they had laid out on the floor. The little portable stereo was playing an older Elton John song.

"Chris," Jason said, not knowing what to say, "I can explain..."

Both boys looked like they wanted to cry. Chris did not know how to react. He knew that some people out there that preferred the same sex, and unlike most people his parents were not dead set against homosexuality. Chris was shocked, but he was not angry.

This was not just anyone. Chris Healy and Jason Brigand had been friends since grade school. They had known each other through thick and thin. They had slept over and watched each other's backs countless times. Though the culture of the school dictated that both boys be ostracized for what they had done, Chris could not find it in his heart to deny his friendship with Jason.

"You don't have to," Chris said, managing a comforting smile, "It's all right."

Jason looked up at his friend with a little hope, though the look of shame was apparent on his face. He had been doing this with Michael for a few months, despite the fact that his father had hammered the idea of homosexuality being evil into his head all his life. He knew he was busted and just plain didn't know what to do.

"How long has it been going on with you two?" Chris asked him, sitting down on the bench, trying to ignore the fact that they were naked.

"Does it matter?" Jason said, the tears evident.

"Not really," Chris shrugged, trying to keep the conversation light, "I don't much care either way. I'm just trying to break the ice."

"You're not going to run like Tommy did?" Jason asked.

"You're my friend," Chris reminded him, "I don't care if you prefer having sex with him over a girl or not."

Michael Sanders looked like a deer caught in headlights. He did not know what to do next. He was surprised and scared by the earlier intrusion, but the way Chris was reacting to this was surprising the hell out of him. He expected to be beaten badly if caught, but this friendly attitude coming out of Chris Healy really shocked him.

"Did I just walk into the twilight zone?" Michael asked no one in particular.

"You're not mad?" Jason asked him, still in wonder.

"No," Chris said, "I'm disappointed that you didn't feel like you could tell me, though."

"I was afraid you'd act like Tommy did," Jason said as he wiped the tears away.

"Tommy is being an idiot," Chris said, "why don't you two clean yourselves up while I go find Carrie and Tommy."

"Carrie is here too?" Jason said in horror, "What about Jerry?"

"Jerry is up in his room giving a dynamite imitation of a zombie," Chris scowled, "Carrie went to find her brother. I'll be back in a few. We'll talk then, ok?"

"All right," Jason sighed.

Chris went outside and looked for the fresh tracks from when Tommy ran off. The tracks ran towards one of the hills that had a concrete bunker at the top.

It was snowing briskly and Chris knew he was going to lose the track soon. When he began to lose it he decided that he was not going to waste his time searching nooks and crannies.

"Carrie!" Chris yelled, "Where the hell are you two?"

"We're in the covered lookout!" Carrie yelled back, "Come on up!"

Chris growled as he slipped twice on his way up the steep hill. He even managed to fall halfway back down as he neared the top. After a few minutes he made it to the top and dropped into the concrete lookout to see his girlfriend standing there looking at him. Her brother was curled up in a ball in a corner.

"Ok," Carrie said, exceedingly exasperated by her brother's conduct, "What did he see in there that made him do this?"

Chris spent the next few minutes explaining what he had walked in to and what everyone's reactions had been. Carrie was surprised, but handled the revelation much better than Tommy had. All through Chris's explanation Tommy sat there holding his hands over his ears, both to ward off the cold and to block out the conversation.

"That explains a lot," Carrie said, sighing a little, "How did you react to them?"

"He's my friend," Chris said, "I'm not going to abandon him just because he fell for another guy."

"Our friend," Carrie said, taking his hand, "I'm with you on that. I'm glad you have more sense than my dear brother here."

Carrie growled a little and kicked a little snow at Tommy. Tommy scowled at his sister and looked up at her and Chris. They looked down at him, wondering what to do next.

"You still with us, Tommy?" Carrie asked him finally.

"Yeah," Tommy said and looked up at them.

"What's wrong?" Chris asked him.

"What's wrong?" Tommy repeated, in shock, "You saw what I did in that cave!"

"Sure I did," Chris shrugged, "and your point is, Tommy?"

"Jason was fucking that little faggot!" Tommy exclaimed.

"Jason is our friend," Chris said sternly, "he's been your best friend since the first grade, Tommy. So he's found someone that he cares for... You're going to toss away your best friend just because he just happens to prefer men?"

"You can't be serious!" Tommy exclaimed.

Tommy could not believe Chris was taking this so calmly. Carrie was still annoyed at her brother for running the way he did. She was much more cognizant of the world around her than Tommy was. The fact that Jason was gay did not upset her at all.

"Don't be an idiot, Tommy!" Carrie said, "Is he any different? Has he changed any? Jason is Jason. This is just a part of him that he's had to hide away for so long and this reaction is why, you big dummy! You've known him all these years and you can push him aside just because he's a little different? He doesn't deserve that. He needs you now more than he ever has before."

It was a heady speech for her, one that Chris could have kissed her for. Tommy looked up at them and thought about that for a second. He was starting to waver, but he was not quite ready for the leap of logic yet.

"I don't believe you two," Tommy said, "you two are so accepting of this. This is insane! There are just some things you don't do and that is one of them."

"You are a close minded idiot, Tommy," Carrie said to her brother, leaving him sitting there closemouthed, "I'm going to go see how Jason is. You can go to hell, dear brother."

"Carrie!" Tommy shouted as he watched his sister walk down the hill.

Chris stood there and looked at Tommy. He knew that Carrie was trying to make a point, but he didn't want to risk Tommy giving up Jason's secret by accident. Chris sighed and waited for Tommy to compose himself a little.

"What are you looking at?" Tommy asked.

"Wondering how you feel about yourself right now," Chris asked.

"I don't know," Tommy admitted, "How can you..."

"He's our friend, dude," Chris said, "this doesn't change it for me."

"What do you want me to do?" Tommy asked him, a tear forming in his eye.

"Come on back down to the cave," Chris asked him, "at least face him one more time. See if you can really justify what you said before."

"Do I have to?" Tommy asked Chris.

"I don't know," Chris said coldly, "do you?"

Chris left it at that and hopped out of the concrete bunker into the snowfall. He followed Carrie's disappearing tracks back to the cave, leaving Tommy sitting there alone in the bunker.

Tommy sat there and thought about what had just happened. He still was not sure how to feel about what he had just seen, but he felt worse about the look his sister had given him.

It did not take Tommy long to realize that he had to go in there and face Jason, if only to placate his sister. He stood up and looked at the falling snow. Not wanting to be alone, he decided to face things and got out of the bunker and headed towards the cave entrance, sliding down the hill when he lost his footing.

While Tommy was sliding down the hill trying to get back to the tunnel, Chris Healy was just entering the back part of it and seeing Jason and Michael again. Carrie was there already, sitting on a bench with the boys, trying to be reassuring. Unfortunately, she was not the one Jason was worried about.

"Chris..." Jason said.

"Don't sweat it," Chris said, "your secret is safe with me. Carrie too."

"And if my brother tries to tell anyone," Carrie said, "I'll kick his ass."

"Hell," Chris said, "you're one of my best friends, have been for years. I'm not going to run out on you just because of this."

"Not like Tommy?" he asked.

"No way," Chris said, "I promise you that much."

"Tommy will come around," Carrie said, "I think it was more shock than anything, Jase."

"Yeah," Jason agreed, "I can see the shock thing, can't you Mike?"

Mike Sanders merely nodded. He was still unsure what to make of Jason's other friends. He was still more than a little scared about what was going to happen because of this. His parents would have reacted almost as badly as Jason's would to what the boys were doing together.

"Listen," Carrie said finally, "I'm here for you, and so is Chris. If Mike makes you happy, I'm all for it."

"Of course," Chris said, "you were behind Carrie and me when we took up together. The least I can do is return the favor. Besides, how can I push you away when you need your friends most?"

They got quiet for a moment as they heard some movement down at the far end of the tunnel. Tommy Caron had made it back and climbed back into the tunnel after taking a few more spills in the snow going down the hill. Both Jason and Michael went silent as they saw Tommy reenter the tunnel.

"Glad you could join us again, Tommy," Chris said.

"Yeah," Tommy said, "how are you, Jason?"

"Listen, Tommy," Jason said.

"No," Tommy said, "let me talk first, ok?"

"Sure," Jason said, sitting back and looking at Tommy.

"How could you, Jason?" Tommy asked quietly, "I mean, we've known each other for so many years. We've slept over to each other's houses and gone through so much together. Why couldn't you tell me before? I mean, for us to find you like this!"

Michael and Jason just looked up at him, as did Carrie and Chris. It made a bit more sense now. Tom was hurt that Jason was too scared to come to him, his best friend. It was a couple more tense minutes before Jason was finally able to say a word to him.

"Don't you think I wanted to tell you guys?" he asked with obvious pain in his voice, "Do you know how hard it is to feel things that you're told all your life are wrong?"

Tears welled up in Jason's eyes as he got ready to continue his outburst. Michael stood up with him and put his hand on Jason's shoulder. Jason put his hand over Michaels and shared his glances between Michael and Tommy. Chris and Carrie sat mute and watched the exchange.

"I remember the first time Michael looked at me in the cafeteria," Jason continued, "it was a connection that I was always told would happen to me when I looked into the right woman's eyes. But it didn't happen with a woman. It happened with Mike."

Mike smiled at him and Jason smiled back.

"But Jason..."

"But Jason nothing!" Jason exclaimed, "I know it's hard, but damn, I have to hide it from my parents. Do you want me to start trying to hide it from you again Tommy? I feel better now that you guys know. I'm sick of trying to hide who I am!"

"Tom, what exactly has changed?" Chris asked solemnly, "Jason is still here, and quite obviously trusts us more than anyone else. He's just been afraid, that's all. Heck, if it had been me in this situation I would have run like hell. We may not share the same preferences, but damn, he's one of us. No matter what, Tom, Jason is one of us."

Tom looked thoughtful at that for a few minutes. Carrie stayed silent for a minute, though she looked intensely at Tom. It was a hard thing for all of them to deal with. The key, however, was to figure out where to go next.

Jason's problems were doubled, unfortunately. His father, Clarence, was a raving homophobe, not to mention a total asshole. Clarence Brigand was also an ex-marine, drummed out for excessive cruelty to civilians while in Vietnam. To compensate for the disappointing set of menial civilian jobs he had endured since leaving the service, he ruled his house with an iron fist, a fist that often came down hard on Jason and his mother.

"I'm sorry," Tommy said finally, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, "This is just a heavy thing to lay on a guy, you know? I've seen a lot of things that surprised me, but this is by far one of the biggest shocks I've had in a while."

Tommy Caron held out a hand to his oldest friend, a hand that Jason Brigand took with a much-relieved smile. Jason considered hugging his friend, but decided not to push his luck. He was just happy that Tommy was not going to run out him.

"So your brother is still in Zombie mode?" Jason asked Chris, trying to turn the subject in another direction, "Where's he hiding?"

"I don't know where he's been hiding," Chris shrugged, "his mood is going to get nothing but worse. His hopes for scoring with Annie Jenkins were dashed permanently last night."

Jason and Mike laughed, not having heard about what happened. Carrie and Tom looked at Chris with murder in their eyes. They did not find the crack funny at all. Jason sat down with Mike and held his hand, much the same way that Chris would hold Carrie's. Jason was the one to ask why the hopes were dashed.

"What happened?" Jason asked, "Did Jerry actually get the balls to ask her out?"

"No," Carrie said coldly, still annoyed at Chris's comment, "She's dead, Jason."

"What?" Jason asked, sitting bolt upright, "You're kidding, right?"

"I wish I was," Carrie sighed.

"I'm sorry," Chris said, "you know me, I tend to make light of bad things."

"What happened to her?" Mike asked quietly.

"She was murdered last night," Carrie said, "it's been on the news all morning. The police still don't have any leads according to the news morons."

The mood that they had left Chris's house to break returned abruptly. All five of them were sitting there silent when Tommy decided that he'd be the one to break the silence. He pulled out the dog-eared pack of playing cards that had been used for many bad games of spades over the years.

"Ok," Tommy said, holding the cards in his fingers, "Its time to relax again and not think about anything outside this tunnel. Since your brother is MIA today, Chris, think you can stoop to filling in for him?"

"Hell no," Chris chuckled, winking at Mike, "I've got a better idea though. Jason, why don't you get your friend in on the game? He'd probably enjoy it more than I would."

"That's not saying much," Carrie grinned, "you hate spades."

"Almost as much as I do broccoli," Chris grinned, nodding his agreement.

"Yeah, right," Jason chuckled, "you just want to sneak off and make out with Carrie for a while."

Tommy and Michael had a good laugh along with that. Carrie shook her head and looked at Chris. He knew instinctively that she had a good comeback and gave a nod of his head to indicate assent.

"That's ok, guys," Carrie said, her voice sounding sweet and innocent, "I'm sure you and Michael will have your fun with that when we're not around. Maybe you should watch us and learn how to do it right."

Chris was on the floor laughing, though the rest of the gang was not far behind. Chris kissed her forehead for as his laughter subsided and touched her hand. Tommy started dealing out the cards when Chris decided to get to know Michael a bit better, if only for Jason's sake.

"So, does everyone call you Michael or Mike or what?" Chris asked him as Tommy finished dealing the cards, "I've seen you around the school, but never had the chance to talk to you before."

Mike Sanders was a bit surprised by Chris's interest. He was the type of boy that was used to people looking through him and never at him. Chris could not help but smile. He had a feeling that if Jason liked Mike enough to be sleeping with him, there would not be a problem with him joining their little clique. Chris thought that maybe he could take up some of the slack that Jerry's continued absence provided.

"Mike is fine," he said, shrugging as he looked at his cards, "Most people don't seem to care."

"We do," Carrie smiled, "and if Jason likes you that much, you can't be all bad. Right Tommy?"

"Can I plead the fifth on this?" Tommy asked, grinning.

Carrie chuckled and tossed a wadded up piece of paper at her brother. Everyone chuckled at that, though Michael still looked a bit intimidated by all the new faces, despite the fact that they were all friendly. Chris sensed this and decided to try again to make Michael feel at home with them.

"Don't worry Mike," Chris grinned, "we are the good guys. We don't bite, all right? Well, at least I don't bite unless Carrie asks me to."

"Yeah," Carrie chuckled and swatted Chris playfully, "If there's any biting to do around here, studmuffin, I'll do it, 'k?"

"Ok," Chris grinned, "I think I might have to test this."

"Go ahead," Carrie said, grinning playfully.

Chris leaned over and started kissing Carrie in a very romantic manner, ignoring the oohs that were emanating from Mike and Jason. Tommy merely shook his head and looked at his cards again.

"I can't watch this any more," Tommy said in disgust, "let's teach Mike here how to play cards while Chris takes advantage of my sister."

"Don't worry, Tommy," Jason grinned, "someday I'm sure you'll find someone willing to take advantage of you."

"Sure," Tommy shrugged, "that's fine and dandy, but can you make a play before that time comes?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jason said and laid down a deuce of spades, "it's your turn."

Chris and Carrie moved off into another part of the tunnel to start exploring each other's dental work. Things were back to normal for the moment, and they spent the next few hours in those positions, deciding that there was no reason to venture out back into the snow again anytime soon.

When dinnertime approached, however, it was a different story. Carrie's mother was starting to suspect about her relationship with Chris, so they were trying to be on their best behavior and not push things. When the end of the afternoon arrived, they split up and headed back to their respective homes.

Chris headed home, wondering if he was actually going to have some real dinner that night or if he was going to have to scrounge something up again. He had been cooking for himself most of the time lately and was getting rather sick of canned food. Chris did not even know what is brother was eating or if he was even bothering anymore.

"What the hell?" Chris asked himself as he walked into the open house, "Did a tornado strike us and nobody told me about it?"

The front door of the Healy home was open, leaving the house a bit on the nippy side. Chris secured the door and looked around at the damage that had occurred inside the house. The remains of dishes were all over the floor, shattered as if thrown with great force. The living room television was just as bad off, as someone had kicked the screen in.

"Jesus H. Christ," Chris said as he looked around.

Juliana and Joseph Healy had had a few major blowouts before this time, but this one most definitely had taken the cake. In the few short hours that Chris had spent with his friends down at the park his parents had managed to all but destroy the kitchen and most of the living room. It was if a full-scale battle had been fought in their house, which, in all honesty, was exactly what happened.

Chris decided to see if his brother was still home or if he had departed once the fighting started. Chris went upstairs and into their bedroom, which was one of the few places that looked almost clean in the house. Jerry was still lying on the bed looking up at the ceiling, much as he had been doing before. Chris sat down on a chair next to his bed and looked at him.

"Jerry," Chris said and poked his brother, "do you know what happened down there?"

Jerry did not say anything at first, preferring instead to just shift his dark, dead eyes over towards his brother. Chris was not quite sure, and would never be sure, but he would say in the future that it was the first time that he saw death in his brother's eyes.

"We don't have a family anymore, Chris," Jerry said ominously, "we live in a combat zone."

"No shit," Chris agreed, "do you know what started it this time?"

"Does it matter?" Jerry asked him.

"No," Chris sighed, "I guess it doesn't. We can just hope it will get better someday I guess."

"Nothing will get better," Jerry said, his voice hollow, "I don't think it can ever get better again."

Jerry Healy then started staring back at the ceiling again, his eyes becoming fixed on a single point just as they had every time Chris had seen them there in the past week. He was not sure what to do then, but he knew he had to get out of there for a while.

Chris decided that he was going to go out for a while and go pick up something from Cashman's store to satisfy his growling stomach. He was just dressing up in his extra winter coat and picking his father's jacket pocket for some cash when he heard some motion in the back yard.

Chris Healy went over to the window and opened a slit in the blinds with his fingers. He saw his father stumbling around the back yard, kicking a bucket that had gotten in his way. Joe Healy was dressed lightly, much too light for his weather. He finally sat down in a snow-covered deck chair and pulled a beer out of the snow.

Chris sighed, grabbed a jacket and a pair of gloves for his father and walked into the back yard. Being considerably more sober than his father and not wanting to sit in a pile of snow he brushed off one of the deck chairs and sat down facing his father.

"Hey pop," Chris said and handed his father the jacket and gloves, "put these on before you get frostbite."

"Hello," Joe said, noticing his son for the first time, "Thanks Chris."

It was no surprise that Joe didn't feel the cold, considering how drunk he was. He and his wife had had their worst fight ever, which was saying quite a bit for a pair that fought more often than the average boxer did.

The father and son looked at each other for a few minutes, until Joe reached into the snow and pulled out two beers. He handed one over to Chris and opened the second one himself, taking a long pull of it. Chris opened it gingerly and took a sip. Beer had never been among his favorite things to drink and never would be.

"I've fucked things up, haven't I Chris?" Joe asked him, his voice slurring a little from the additional alcohol, "I've shot the whole damn thing to hell.

Chris sipped a little more and looked at his father. Joe Healy seemed to have aged ten years in the hours it had been since Chris had seen him. It was obvious that the man was hurting badly, stuck in a situation that he had no idea what to do with. Chris knew that it was going bad, but he had no more idea than his father did on what to do about it.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Dad," Chris said, "I'm not going to lie to you. I don't know how much more of this we can take."

"Not much you can say," Joe sighed, gulping more beer, "I think you said it better than I did anyway."

Joe looked at his son with evident sadness in his eyes. He knew that the actions he and Juliana were taking were hurting both of their sons. He also was not completely blind to what was going on with his other son either. He was beginning to guess that Jerry needed professional help, but did not know how badly. Unfortunately, Joe had some of the same disease. He too was beginning to die inside.

"Dad," Chris said, "I..."

"Your brother is getting worse," Joe said quickly to change the subject, "isn't he?"

"Yes," Chris nodded dejectedly, "its like he's dead inside, Dad. There is something missing that used to be there. I don't even know who he is or what he's capable of anymore."

Chris's father looked down at the ground and sighed. He then brought the beer bottle up to his lips and took a heavy pull on it. He wanted to do something about his son, but he was not mentally capable of doing it anymore. Joe Healy pretty much lost his ability and desire to converse after that point.

Chris took a few more drinks of the beer and spent about ten minutes trading looks with his father. He finally decided that he had had enough of the cold and sitting with his father. Chris poured the remains of the foul liquid down the drain and threw the bottle against the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces, joining the layer of glass already lying on the floor.

"See!" Chris exclaimed to no one in particular, "You're not the only ones who can do it!"

Chris did not know where he was going, but he wanted to go fast. He started running and just kept going for a while. He finally tired out about a half-mile or so from the house. Standing there, breathing hard from the exertion, he looked around and wondered where to go next.

He headed over to another corner store, one where he was not known quite as much as he was at Cashman's. He walked in and started collecting the things he wanted for the night, even though he was not sure where he was going. He picked up a pizza, which this place did fairly well, and a couple Nero Wolfe novel reprints. Just because he had no idea where he was going to end up he also bought a set of gloves, a scarf, and a decent lighter.

"You going camping or something kid?" the clerk asked Chris while ringing up the items.

"Something like that," Chris said with little emotion, "just need to relax a bit, that's all. Throw a pack of Camels on there too."

"Are you old enough for that?" the clerk asked him.

"Probably not," Chris shrugged, "but I just watched my parents have a nice blowout and I need to relax."

"I can understand that," the clerk said, chuckling, "Enjoy the pizza and smokes."

Chris nodded and walked out the door. The snow was taking a respite for this part of the evening, so he decided to go ahead back down to the cave. He briefly thought of Carrie, but decided that he did not want to push his luck on that front. The cave should be warm enough, he thought and he was certain that there were air vents to use for a chimney if he needed it.

It was a ten-minute walk down to the cave from the little store. Once he made it there he found that it was still clear. He slid inside, managing to get the pizza in without spilling it, and went to the back of the tunnel. It was cold and lonely in there without Carrie and the others, but it was a damn sight better than being at home.

He pulled a slice of pizza out of the box and devoured it rather quickly. He then pulled out the pack of cigarettes and stared at them. He knew that they were bad and that they were something he should not try, but he didn't much care. He broke the wrapper and opened the box, looking at the paper wrapped cylinders.

"Fuck it," Chris said to himself and pulled one out, lighting it with the lighter.

He nearly choked on the carcinogenic smoke. He pulled it out of his mouth and looked at it again, wondering why so many people used them. He stopped wondering for a moment and looked at where the smoke was drifting.

"Good," Chris said as he stood up and held the lit cigarette to the vent, "I can get away with a fire."

Chris found as much wood in the tunnel as he could, mostly old desks and boards that had been left in there years ago. He used some of the metal and bricks left in there to create a little fire pit underneath the vent. The wood was old and dry, so it caught easily using a little bit of paper. Before long he had a cozy little flame going, and the temperature in the tunnel went up to a still chilly, but passable level.

The vent worked like it was supposed to, taking the smoke out of the tunnel. It also provided enough light to read. Chris finished his pizza and began on the books. He tore through them as he usually did and finished them both by midnight. At that time he fed the fire a little more wood and sat there smoking another cigarette.

He thought about his brother and about what his family was going through. He could not fathom what to do next and the thoughts were still swirling around in his mind as his body gave up and made him go to sleep.
Chapter 11: November 30, 1985

Of Towels and Drywall...

Carrie Caron crawled through the window of the H.E.L.L. tunnel around ten in the morning. She had spent the last hour trying to find her boyfriend, getting no answer at his house or information from their friends. Jason had not seen him since they had left the tunnel the night before. Out of options, she decided to try the tunnel to see if he had got out of the house early.

Carrie was not expecting to see what she saw, however. Chris was curled up in a ball in a section of the tunnel that he had cleared out. The fire had mostly burned out, but a large part of the warmth had stayed. She looked at her sleeping boyfriend and sighed, sitting down on the bench beside him and nudging him until he started to wake up.

"Wake up, Chris," Carrie said softly.

"Honey," Chris said, his voice still slurred from sleep, "I'm home."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Carrie asked him, "Have you been here all night?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, sitting himself up, "The house is a war zone. Mom and Dad had a blowout yesterday. Most of the dishes and a lot of other things are broken and lying in pieces on the floor."

"Why didn't you come find me?" Carrie asked him, "I could have done something."

"I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone," Chris said, "all I wanted was to get away from the world. It wasn't all bad, considering. A good pizza, a couple good books, a nice warm fire."

"You're lucky you didn't kill yourself with the fire," Carrie told him.

"I tested that before I lit it," Chris grinned and pulled another cigarette out of the pack, lighting it and holding it up towards the vent, "The smoke goes up through the hole in the ceiling, through one of the vents. It was designed to keep clear in the snow."

"So when did you start smoking?" Carrie asked him, not particularly thrilled with this development either.

"Last night," Chris shrugged and took a puff, "why wait for my family to kill me? Might as well do it a little faster."

"Give them here," Carrie said, "you can have that one, but if I catch you with them again, I'll break your fingers."

"Yeah, yeah," Chris said, but saw the look in her eyes. He passed the pack to her without any further comment.

"There should be some more wood piled over there," Chris said, "if you want to destroy them we might as well get warm in the process."

"As long as you will give me another method of getting warm as well," Carrie grinned, "are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah," Chris sighed as Carrie put some sticks into the fire pit, "I'm just sick of living in the middle of a battlefield."

"I can understand that," Carrie said, "can you light it for me?"

"Sure." Chris said and tossed his cigarette into the pit, "See? They are good for something."

"Yeah," Carrie agreed, "It's a great way to control the population."

"Funny," Chris said and watched the fire take off again.

Carrie decided to ignore the cigarettes for the time being as she realized how much pain he was in. She sat down in the dirt with him, rubbing a little of it off his face. He smiled at her a little and took her hand in his. He calmed down enough to need someone with him again. She was just relieved that he was all right.

"I was worried about you, Chris," Carrie said as she pulled him close, "I was afraid that you'd pulled the same disappearing act that your brother had."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Chris promised, "you're just about the only good thing I have in my life right now."

They hugged each other tightly and Carrie pulled him into her arms. She stroked his hair and he finally started letting it all out. She knew he needed to do it and just held on to him as he cried for a while. It seemed like eternity that they stayed there together, letting Chris get his battered mental state together, but it was in reality only a couple hours.

"Don't worry, Chris," Carrie said after a while, "I don't care how bad it gets. I'll be here for you."

Chris sat up and looked in her eyes, cupping her chin lightly with his dirty hand. She smiled and leaned over to kiss him. He pulled her into him and kissed her deeply. She smiled, even though is breath smelled like the cigarettes he had had the night before. Chris decided to say the words on his mind, three of the most overused words in the English language.

"I love you, Carrie," he said to her, managing to get those words out.

Her eyes lit up at that, being unsolicited as it was she knew he really meant the words. It was a good thing, because she was feeling the same way and was about to say the same words.

"It's ok, Chris," Carrie smiled, "I love you too."

They stayed together on the ground and went through another session of making out. The talking and the crying were done. Chris's internal pressure was pretty much equalized, a release that unfortunately Jerry Healy had no equal to. They were still lying in front of the fire in each other's arms when the rest of the crew showed up at the cave to track down Chris and Carrie.

"I should have figured you two would end up here," Tommy Caron said, shaking his head, "Looks like you can't keep your hands off each other still."

"He's entitled," Carrie grinned, "he had a bad night."

"Don't mind him," Jason chuckled, "he's just annoyed because he isn't getting any."

"I rarely mind him," Carrie shrugged, "he's my brother, remember?"

"Hey now!" Tommy said, "I didn't come here to be abused."

"Since when?" Jason asked him.

"So where have you been all day, anyway?" Tommy asked Chris, ignoring Jason's remark, "Carrie was going nuts for a while looking for you."

"I spent the night here," Chris shrugged, "it was much more peaceful than my house was."

Tommy nodded and looked at the floor, trying to think of something else to say. Jason merely shrugged and sat down on the floor. Mike Sanders, looking much more at ease than he had the day before, joined the party within a few minutes and saw Chris and Carrie lying on the floor together, still in each other's arms.

"You know," Mike said as he looked them over, "this scene looks a bit familiar. I think I was on the other side of it yesterday."

"At least you didn't catch us in the act, Mike," Carrie grinned, "we had the courtesy to keep our clothes on."

"I think that point goes to my sister," Tommy chuckled.

It was all Chris could do to keep from laughing at that one. He gave her a hug and buried his face into her shoulder to keep the laugher inside. Mike and Jason were grinning, though they were slightly embarrassed because of how they had been caught the day before.

Carrie smiled and put her forehead to Chris's and they shared one last lingering look before they joined the rest of the group. The rest of the afternoon was mostly spent lingering around the tunnel, which was a much more hospitable place now that Chris had figured out that fire was possible there.

"I've got to get home early tonight," Jason said, frowning, "Dad wants me to finish my chores today."

"Why do you put up with his crap?" Mike asked him, "He doesn't own you."

"Because he'll kill me if I don't," Jason said, "it'll be all right so long as he doesn't find out about us."

"He won't find out from us," Tommy promised, "right guys?"

"I'd sooner sell you to the Russians," Chris promised, "Or better yet, I'll sell my brother to the Russians."

"Great idea," Carrie laughed, "that'll win us the cold war pretty damn quick."

"It will if they breed him, that's for sure," Jason said, earning a harsh glance from Chris.

"That was uncalled for," Chris said, trying to defend his brother a little, "But it's ok. Go on home and face your father. That'll be punishment enough."

"Right," Jason chuckled, "you ain't kidding. But at least I didn't spend the night here last night."

"That's ok," Carrie told them, "he won't be sleeping here tonight if I have anything to say about it."

"Well," Tommy said, "Mom and Dad suspect about you two, but don't know for sure yet. I'm sure I can clear a sleepover if I want to. How about it Chris?"

"I should be able to go home tonight," Chris protested, but only half-heartedly.

"If you don't want to," Carrie said, "you don't have to."

"I probably should check by the house," Chris sighed, "if nothing else to put on some clean clothes. Your parents aren't going to let me in looking like this."

"Ok," Carrie agreed and let her conspiratorial mind go wild, "how about this? You and I go to your place and get you cleaned up while Tommy goes home and clears the way with our parents."

"I'm perfectly capable of getting cleaned up on my own hon," Chris grinned, "I don't need a babysitter."

"I'll be the judge of that," Carrie said, "I'm going to make sure you don't spend the night down here again."

"Besides," Tommy chuckled, "you want to spend some time alone with him before we have to be good in front of the parental units."

"You said it," Carrie laughed, "not me."

"Well, come on," Chris said, "let's get out of here before it starts getting cold. The fire just died again."

They filed out of the tunnel and headed back to their respective homes, with Carrie following closely behind Chris. Little was said on the way to Chris's house. They just held hands and smiled a lot. They had been a couple almost long enough to communicate without actually speaking.

The Healy house appeared to be deserted when they got there. The front door was still unlocked and the lights were out. There were no signs that either of the adults were actually at home. Carrie really got a surprise when Chris opened the door and she saw the full extent of the destruction that had happened in there.

"My god, Chris," Carrie said as she surveyed the damage, "It looks like a bomb went off in here."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "this was the worst one yet. See why I left last night?"

"No argument from me," Carrie said, "think Jerry is still here?"

"I doubt it," Chris said, "he's been spending as much time away from the house as I have. More really, I haven't seen him very much lately."

"That's not good, Chris," Carrie said, "what's he been doing?"

"I wish I knew," Chris sighed, "let's go see if he's here."

He wasn't of course. Jerry's bed was its usual unmade self, no way really to tell if he'd been there or not in the preceding hours. Chris walked into the room and sat down on his bed, which was closest to the door. He rubbed his temples and looked at Carrie who sat down next to him.

"You need to get cleaned up," Carrie reminded him.

"Yeah," Chris said, "take a load off and I'll get a change of clothes."

"Can I call home and see if Tommy has set it up?" Carrie asked him.

"Mi casa es su casa," Chris shrugged, "whatever the hell that means anyway. There's a phone in my parents room next door."

Chris knew that Tommy would manage to get it approved and went over to his dresser to get a clean t-shirt and his backup sweatshirt, since the one he was wearing was completely filthy from sleeping in the cave overnight. He peeled off the dirty sweatshirt and tossed it into the pile on the floor.

"It's all set," Carrie said as she walked back into the room, "just so long as you sleep in Tommy's room and I stay in my room after light's out."

"It'll be tough," Chris chuckled, "but I think we'll manage."

Chris picked up a second shirt and another pair of jeans, placing them on the edge of the dresser. He picked up a canvas bag that he used for this sort of thing and put them in it, retrieving another shirt from the dresser to wear after he cleaned up.

"Do you want me to leave the room while you change?" Carrie asked him.

"Depends on how much you want to see, kiddo," Chris grinned.

"I'd like to see plenty," Carrie smiled, "but I doubt you're ready for that."

"Let's see who folds first," Chris said, smiling evilly.

"Bring it on," Carrie laughed, wondering how far he would go.

Chris proceeded to go on and dance around a little, taking off his shirt like a Chippendale dancer. Carrie could not help but laugh, as Chris was a horrid dancer and he was so dirty that it looked more like a scene out of an old Charlie Chaplin movie rather than an erotic dance.

"Come here," Carrie said, though her laughter, "You're crazy, you know that?"

"I try," Chris said as he sat down.

"You know," she said softly to him as she pulled him closer to her, "when we go back to my place we'll have to be on our best behavior."

"I know it," Chris sighed, looking into her eyes, "I'm trying to forget that, dearie."

"Nobody is home here," Carrie said, a soon to be familiar glint appearing in her eye, "Why don't we get a little of it out of our system before we go back to my place?"

"Sounds good to me," Chris said, just before he started kissing her again, "Very good."

The two teenagers headed straight into a session of heavy petting. If they had more time and a better location, it could have been possible for it to go into much more than that. After about ten minutes and both of them getting quite a bit of kissing and groping in they were rudely interrupted.

Jerry Healy had had enough of the cold that day and decided to come home to rest in his own bed for a while. He got almost as rude a surprise when he slammed the door open and charged into the room. He was not sure what was going on, but he wanted to be noticed when he came in.

"What the hell is that?" Chris yelled and sat bolt upright, "Jerry? What are you trying to do, give us a heart attack or something?"

Carrie pulled the blanket up tightly, even though she was still wearing most of her clothes. Jerry was able to see that Chris was without shirt and both of them were without shoes. There were also enough clothes on the floor for Jerry to think that he'd walked into the room to see his brother having sex with Carrie, even though it hadn't progressed anywhere near that far.

Carrie looked at Chris with a stricken look on her face and then up at Jerry wondering what he was going to do. Jerry said nothing, but the anger in his eyes bubbled up to the surface. The look on his face was one that Chris would soon learn well. He then rushed out of the room and headed down the stairs like a bat out of hell.

"Go after him," Carrie said, "don't let him go like this!"

Chris nodded and jumped out of the bed, running to the top of the stairs. Jerry had not gone very far, just to the bottom of the stairs. Chris was about to say something when he saw the look on his brother's face. It was enough to give him pause.

Jerry looked at his brother and then took his frustration out on the wall, putting both hands through the drywall as if it were nothing more than a sheet of paper. He then bolted from the house.

Chris stopped in his tracks and decided to let his brother go. He knew that it had to hurt. In Jerry's mind it looked like his brother was actually getting some, while he knew that he probably never would if things kept on as they were.

No matter how you looked at it, Jerry was not getting any. He was not getting any love. He was not getting any respect. He was not getting any affection. He was not getting anything from anyone but hostility and pain.

Chris sighed and walked back into his bedroom, sitting down beside Carrie on the bed. She looked at him wordlessly and he saw the fear in her eyes. He wished he could console her on it, but he felt much the same. Jerry was scaring Chris worse than he was Carrie.

"Maybe I should go take that shower?" Chris asked her, knowing the mood was broken.

"Yeah," Carrie sighed, feeling the same way, "They're expecting us at my place soon anyway."

Chris nodded and headed into the bathroom. He showered quickly, shedding the grime that had accumulated in the day and a half since he had been able to shower last. Not wanting to leave Carrie alone for long, he finished quickly and went back into his room dressed in a towel. He had left the clothes in his room and figured she was entitled to see it if she wanted to. If not, she could turn around.

"Very nice, Chris," Carrie giggled, "I think I like this. I've got your clothes and you're in a towel."

"Watch it, kiddo," Chris grinned, "we came close to seeing a lot of this a while ago. I'll drop this towel if you're not careful."

"Promise?" Carrie said, calling his bluff, "Let's see what you've got."

"Ok," Chris agreed, dropping his towel, "Here you go."

Carrie smiled and whistled at him, admiring the view. Chris didn't let himself get self-conscious, just going about getting himself dressed as if Carrie wasn't even in the room. Neither of them minded, since they both figured that they would get naked together eventually.

When he finished dressing and putting a change of clothes into the duffel bag he helped Carrie off his bed and they walked down the stairs smiling. That was until she saw the brand new hole in the drywall at the bottom of the stairs. She walked over to it and looked at it in wonder.

"Jesus," Carrie said softly, "is that what Jerry did?"

"Bare handed," Chris confirmed, "he's going to have fun trying to explain that one to dad. If Dad even notices, that is."

There was still no sign of his parents anywhere, something that was beginning to worry him. He finally reasoned that he had nothing to worry about since it was obvious that they had not worried about him or Jerry before running off. Chris decided to go enjoy his time with Tom and Carrie and forget about the war zone his home had become.
Chapter 12: December 1, 1985

This is what not getting better looks like...

Chris spent the night and most of the next day with Tom and Carrie, relaxing and letting the problems at home slide away. It was like a mini vacation for Chris, but like all vacations it had to end.

He decided he had mooched on the Caron's long enough by the end of Sunday afternoon and figured that he should put in an appearance at home just in case someone had missed him.

Chris Healy walked into his house half expecting to find it still destroyed, but found that all the glass had been cleaned up. Jerry's hole in the wall was still there, but the better part of the destruction had been removed. Chris decided to try his luck and see what was in the kitchen to eat and if there was anything left to eat it on.

"Cool!" Chris exclaimed as he found a stack of paper plates, "I wonder if they got food?"

Chris checked the refrigerator and found that it was his lucky night. No more canned food for him, there was real meat and cheese in there. One of his parents had hit the supermarket. Chris pulled out the roast beef and some American cheese to make himself a nice large sandwich.

"Chris?" Joe Healy asked as he came out into the kitchen, "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "it's me. What's up, pop?"

"Where have you been hiding for the past two days?" Joe asked him, hoping that he had stayed out of trouble.

"The atmosphere was kind of oppressive around here, you know?" Chris said truthfully, there being no reason to lie about it, "I crashed over at Tom Caron's place last couple nights. Decided it was time to come back and see if the dust had settled."

"Next time leave me a note, all right?" his father asked him.

"I would have," Chris said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "If I actually wanted you to know where I was. I needed to get away from the war for a couple days."

"It has been that bad lately, hasn't it?" Joe nodded, understanding where his son was coming from, "Was your brother with you?"

"No," Chris said, not wanting to deal with that subject, "I saw him yesterday when I came back into the house for some clothes, but I haven't seen him since."

"Did he make that hole on the stairs?" Joe asked.

"I don't know," Chris lied, "I thought you and mom did it while you were fighting."

"Maybe we did," Joe shrugged, not knowing for sure, "Is there any food left in the fridge?"

"Yeah," Chris grinned, "mom must have gone shopping. Food is new and there are paper plates in the cabinet."

"Good," Joe said, "'bout time she did something useful."

"Where is mom, anyway?" Chris asked.

"I think she went out with some of those friends of hers," Joe said, almost spitting, "Anything to keep her out of here, I guess."

"Yeah," Chris said hesitantly, not wanting to get involved in this conversation.

"How is your brother?" Joe asked him, sensing that Chris wanted to change the subject.

"Jerry is Jerry," Chris shrugged, "I don't know what's going on with him anymore."

"Is he going to be all right do you think?" Joe Healy asked hopefully.

Chris just looked at his father. He'd heard some stupid questions in his time, but this one damn near took the cake. He knew that it was just about time to give his father a long overdue reality check.

"All right?" Chris said incredulously, "You've got to be kidding me! He can't say two words to anyone anymore. I don't have a brother. I have a walking corpse sharing a bedroom with me."

"He needs help, doesn't he?" Joe asked him.

"I don't know," Chris sighed, "I'm sure he does need help, but damned if I have any idea on how to help him. I don't even know where he is most of the time anymore."

"Can you keep an eye on him?" his father asked hopefully.

"I'll try," Chris said, "but don't expect much. I can't watch someone I can't find."

Chris ate his sandwich and prayed that his father did not ask for anything, as he doubted he could promise much. He was not his brother's keeper and his brother would not stay put long enough for Chris to do anything anyway.

"I know I'm asking a lot," Joe Healy told his son, "I'm just hoping that you'll be able to help a little."

"Dad, I don't know if I can do it," Chris said, knowing he didn't have a prayer, "Hell, I don't know where he is. I don't know where he's been going. A month ago, I could have said that I could watch him. Truthfully, I'm not even sure I want to know anymore. My brother is dead inside, Dad. And it sure as hell isn't going to get any better."

Joe Healy reeled back in surprise. Chris had not said what he did to hurt his father, but it did so just the same. There nothing else Chris could have done. Joe was at a loss about what to do about his deteriorating son. He had hoped to push some of the responsibility off on Chris, but Chris was not buying it.

Joe nodded sadly and patted his son on the shoulder. His marital problems left him blind to just how bad things really were. He was not alone. Chris knew more than most and he did not know enough. But that was going to change and change soon. Nothing would ever be the same for any of them again.

Chris finished his sandwich and went up to his room. It was as empty as he had expected. Jerry was still not bothering to come home. Chris turned on the little black and white television and let his IQ drain away for a few hours, until he fell asleep.

The lack of sleep resulting from spending two nights away from home had caught up with him. He did not wake up again until it was time to go to school again the next morning.
Chapter 13: December 2, 1985, 11:47am

Scarier than Aliens...

School started normally and the events surrounding Annie Jenkins' murder had been talked through enough that nobody was hysterical anymore. It was, however, still high on the conversation list. By the time lunch came around every student in that school had heard a dozen conspiracy theories, all of which were wrong.

Chris Healy sat down at the lunch table first, waiting for Carrie, Tom, Jason and probably Mike Sanders to show up. He did not realistically expect his brother to show up, since Jerry had failed to show up to his first classes.

Carrie was the first one to show up, slumping into her seat looking beat. Chris looked at her and munched on a carrot stick, raising an eyebrow questioning what was going on.

"You know," Carrie grumped, "some of these stories I'm hearing are downright ludicrous."

"No shit," Chris said, "have you heard the story that aliens did it yet?"

"Yeah," Carrie said, "right along with Elvis Presley, I'm sure."

"Elvis has left the building," Tommy said as he sat down next to his sister, "you heard that stupid theory too?"

"Where's Jason at?" Chris asked him, "I thought you had third period with him."

"He went over to get Mike," Tommy shrugged, "I figured I could live without that excitement and decided to come over here."

"Jerry ever come home?" Carrie asked Chris.

"I haven't seen him since we saw him at the house," Chris growled, "I don't want to talk about him right now."

"You might not have a choice," Tommy said, "Carver is on the warpath again. Anyone with an unexcused absence is being called in. If they can't get anyone at your place about your brother, my bet is that they'll call you."

"And I'll tell her the truth," Chris shrugged, "I don't know where he is and frankly don't want to right now."

Jason and Mike came into the cafeteria and plunked themselves down on the bench. It was invisible to most of the people in the room, but Chris, Tommy and Carrie could tell the change in them. The fact that their secret was out, at least among their close-knit group, was a burden relieved from them.

"The police are here," Jason said, "saw a number of them outside Carver's office on the way over here."

"It's a regular convention of blue in there," Mike confirmed, "wonder if they think someone here did it."

"It's probably just standard," Chris shrugged, "the police check every place that the victim frequents."

"What makes you an expert on this?" Tommy asked.

"Too many detective novels," Carrie quipped, "what else?"

"So I like pulp novels," Chris shrugged, "sue me."

"No point," Jason chuckled, "you don't have anything to take, Healy."

Chris watched idly as Frank Carter weaved his way through the students in the cafeteria. He usually tried to ignore the vice-principal as much as possible, but Carter appeared to be heading straight for their group. Chris growled, as he was almost positive that it would be about his missing in action brother.

"Miss Caron," Frank Carter said as he approached, "the police would like to speak with you for a minute."

"What about?" Carrie asked, surprised.

"Annie Jenkins," Carter said, "they're talking to everyone who knew her."

"If they think it will help," Carrie shrugged, "it's not a problem."

Chris squeezed her hand and looked at her. He doubted Carrie would be able to shed much light on the subject, but he understood the reasoning. He was also glad to not have to answer any questions about his brother as well. Frank Carter was turning away when he realized that Chris was sitting there.

"Mr. Healy," Carter said as if an afterthought, "Principal Carver would like to speak with you as well. Would you come along with us?"

"Sure," Chris said, sighing dejectedly, "Why not?"

Tommy, Jason and Mike sat there quietly as Chris and Carrie were led off. They wanted nothing to do with anything that would encourage their being included in the hit parade.

"Good luck," Chris said to Carrie as they approached the office.

"You will need it more than I will," Carrie grinned, "I only have to face the cops. You have to face the principal."

Chris tried to laugh, but knew that she was right. Principal Sherri Carver had a very harsh reputation, something along the lines of being the ice bitch from hell. She only got personally involved with discipline when things got out of hand or when vice-principle Carter was tied up.

Chris went into the room and looked at the receptionist. She ignored him, so he plunked himself down in a chair. Chris was able to see a bright side of this whole thing. If the principal took her sweet time he would get out of the science class he despised in period five.

"May I help you?" the receptionist finally asked Chris.

"I don't know," Chris said, "Mr. Carter directed me here and told me to wait for Principal Carver. Don't ask me why, I still haven't figured that one out."

"I see," she said and picked up the phone, talking for a moment and going back to Chris, "Go ahead in, she'll be ready for you in a moment."

"Thanks," Chris said, obviously not meaning it.

He went into the office to wait for the tongue-lashing he knew he was about to receive for his brother's extended absence. Surprisingly though, he was directed to a chair and ignored for a few minutes as Principal Carver went over some papers.

While Chris was sitting there waiting to talk to the principal, Carrie was talking to a detective from the city police department. Detective James Calysto was an older man, worn down by the years. He wore a suit that was ten years out of style and long overdue for a good dry cleaning. He also chewed on a half-smoked cigar that was unlit due to being in a school.

"We're told that you knew Annie Jenkins pretty well," Calysto said as he sat down across from Carrie.

"I knew her," Carrie shrugged, "we talked a bit, but we weren't that close."

"You're not crying as much as the others I've talked to today," Calysto said.

"No reason to," Carrie told him, "I'm sorry she's dead, but there's no use crying anymore. I got that out of my system on Friday when I found out."

"I understand," Calysto nodded, though it was evident by his tone that he did not, "What we're trying to find out is if she had any boyfriends that she didn't tell her parents about. None of her friends seem to be willing to talk to me."

Carrie had no real surprise at that. James Calysto was a dick. She didn't want to talk to him much either, but she knew that she'd get out of there faster if she did. Thing was, she had no clue as far as Annie went. All she heard was the gossip.

"I don't know what to tell you," Carrie said, "I know she had a boyfriend, she usually did. She was a popular girl. But I have no idea who she would have been seeing. I've been too involved with my own boyfriend to notice hers."

"Right," Calysto said, knowing he was getting nowhere, "Who do you know that would know that information?"

"Cookie Morris might know," Carrie shrugged, "maybe Jen MacBride."

"All right," Calysto said and was about to form another question when a knock came through the door, "what now?"

"Detective?" a blue shirted officer asked as he opened the door.

"What?" Calysto snapped, "I don't like to be disturbed while talking to people."

"Sorry," the officer said, "Lieutenant Gabriel is on the phone."

"What the hell does Rael want now?" Calysto growled, "I'm perfectly capable of surviving an hour without him interrupting."

"I don't know," the officer shrugged, "But he wasn't happy. Said to get you post haste."

"Can I go now?" Carrie asked hopefully.

"Yeah," Calysto said, "I've gotten all I need."

Carrie walked out behind Calysto and watched him take his turn at the phone. She wondered what was going on, because she saw him turn white as a sheet. She decided to head back to the cafeteria and finish her lunch, hoping that Chris would be able to join her soon.

Chris, however, was enduring his own personal form of hell, personified by Principal Sherri Carver. Once the waiting period had ended and she had finished with what she was doing, she looked down her horn-rimmed glasses at Chris Healy. Chris tried to look back, which was not easy considering how god-awfully ugly the woman was.

"Chris," Principal Carver said as she consulted a sheet of paper, "I've got your brother's attendance record here for the last month."

"Ok," Chris said, wondering why he should care about that.

"Your brother has only showed up for half of the days he was supposed to," she told him, "he hasn't been here at all for the past four school days."

Chris merely shrugged. She was not telling him anything he did not already know. He still wondered why he was supposed to care about this.

"We're trying to figure out where he is," she said sternly, "we don't like to see students do this. Do you know why he's not in school?"

"I have no idea," Chris said honestly, "I haven't seen him today. I came on to school without him and figured he would either show up on his own or play hooky again. Right now, I really don't care either way. You can always call my parents about it if you want to find out what's going on."

She looked alarmed by this, but like everyone else she had other things on her mind, especially Calysto and his policemen who were walking all over her school as if they owned the place. She decided to just keep going with Chris rather than question what he just said.

"We tried to call," she said, "there was no answer."

"Figures," Chris grumbled.

"You mean to tell me that you haven't seen your twin brother?" Carver asked him, "I find that incredibly hard to believe, Chris."

"I'm flattered that you think I have any more knowledge about my brother than you do," Chris said, using sarcasm to keep from cursing her out, "The sad fact is that my brother's actions of late are just as mystifying to me as they are to anyone else. I just go to school here, ok? My goal is to get out as fast as possible, then never return. I care about what happens to my brother, but damned if I know where he is."

"Mr. Healy!" Carver exclaimed.

Chris knew he was in for it now, but luck was on his side. Detective Calysto burst into the office with his usual lack of manners. Carver glared at him, forgetting about Chris Healy's outburst for the moment.

"Can I help you, Detective Calysto?" Sherri Carver growled.

"We've got another one," Calysto said, "similar in nature to Annie Jenkins."

"Oh god," she said, slumping into her desk, "Who is it?"

"Morton Farnsworth was found in a field just north of town," Calysto said, "we're beginning to think they're connected, but we aren't saying that publicly yet."

Chris just sat there silently and listened. He was shocked really. Mort Farnsworth had always been an asshole, but he never expected anyone to kill him for it. This was big news. He only hoped that Carver and Calysto forgot he was there long enough to hear more of this.

"Does anyone know yet?" Carver asked.

"Press has it," Calysto confirmed, "Lieutenant Gabriel tried to quash it, but one got through the cordon. You probably should..."

Calysto noticed Chris there and tilted his head towards him, indicating to Carver that it might be a good idea to end things with Chris. Chris knew that he was about to be asked to leave the room.

"Chris," Sherri Carver, now visibly shaken and much whiter than she had been before, "You can go now. Let your brother know that we expect him to be here tomorrow."

Chris had no more interest in talking to the woman, but he was interested in the news he just heard. He tore out of that room like a madman and lost no time running out of that office and heading for the cafeteria. He had news and it was big news. Like most teenagers, he wanted to share it with his friends. He made it to the cafeteria in sixty seconds flat.

"You're not going to believe this," Chris said to the others as he sat down, "this is big."

"What is it?" Carrie asked, "Did you run all the way back here?"

"Yeah," Chris said, "there's been another murder!"

"What?" Tommy said, nearly choking on his milk, "You're kidding?"

"How did you find out?" Jason asked him, "Did they ask you questions about it?"

"That must be why Calysto was called away from me," Carrie said, "he took a phone call and went white as a sheet."

"He came into Carver's office while I was getting my brother's lecture," Chris told them, "Morton Farnsworth was found in a field north of town."

"You're fucking kidding me," Jason said quietly, not wanting to be the one to spread it all over the school, "Mort Farnsworth is dead?"

"Unless that cop was lying," Chris said, "somehow I doubt that."

"Detective Calysto is a creep," Carrie said, "but I doubt he has any reason to lie about it."

"Do you think they'll announce it?" Jason asked.

"Probably," Chris nodded, "Calysto told the principal that the press had it. This place is going to go nuts when she announces it though."

"I can't believe that Mort is dead," Carrie said, a little louder than she should have.

Cookie Morris, who had been dating Mort for the better part of two years, heard what Carrie said and walked over, not believing her ears.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cookie asked her, "Mort is not dead!"

"Shit," Jason said, averting his eyes from Cookie.

"Cookie," Chris said, "I was in the principal's office when Carver was told."

"Told what?" Cookie said.

"I'm sorry, Cookie," Chris said, almost meaning it.

"He is not dead!" Cookie exclaimed and was about to walk away when the familiar beep on the public address system signaled an announcement.

"May I have your attention please, Everyone?" Principal Carver said in an emotionless monotone, "It is my unfortunate duty to inform you all that another terrible tragedy has happened. Morton Farnsworth was found dead today. I am sorry to have to be the one to inform you of his passing. Classes have been cancelled for the rest of the day. Guidance counselors will be available for those of you who need to talk to someone."

Cookie looked at Chris for a moment and looked like she was about to collapse entirely, though she slapped him in the face before collapsing. Andy King, looking more concerned about staring at Cookie's tits than he was about her, helped her to another table where she started sobbing loudly. Chris rubbed his face and Carrie went over and took his hand.

"This is scary stuff," Jason said, "two down in three days?"

"Tell me about it," Carrie nodded, "if someone as big as Mort can be taken down like that, that means that this is one scary son of a bitch that's doing it. A real serial killer here? You've got to be kidding me. Who would have thought it?"

Chris nodded and squeezed Carrie's hand. It was an interesting sight in the cafeteria. Mort was one of the most popular kids in school, but most of the school population had little love for him. There was more genuine emotion at Annie Jenkins' death than there had been with Mort's. The only person who was actively crying was Cookie Morris.

"Ok guys," Chris said after a few minutes, "you heard Carver. Classes have been let out for the day. It's a pitiful excuse for it, but let's get out of here before all this mourning for that asshole drives all of us nuts."

"Chris!" Carrie exclaimed, amazed her boyfriend could vocalize that sentiment.

"He's right," Jason said, "I'm sorry he's dead, as I'm sure everyone here is, but it isn't going to disappoint me one bit to not have to see him again."

"That's enough," Carrie said harshly, "Mort is dead."

"I'm not saying anything now that I didn't say while he was alive," Chris said, "So let's get out of here before all this false remorse drives us all batty."

"Here, here," Tommy said, "let's go."

"For once I am in total agreement with you, Healy," Jason said, "let's make like a tree and leave."

The five of them slipped out of there quick, glad to get away from the sobs and adults trying to help. They wanted little but to get out of the school. They managed to get out with just a quick admonition to be careful from one of the science teachers.
Chapter 14: December 2, 1985, 2:03pm

Death and Hypocrisy...

Chris saw that Carrie was having a harder time dealing with the death than the other boys were, so he moved closer to her and put an arm around her shoulder. She smiled at him half heartedly, feeling really upset by the general mood of her friends about Morton Farnsworth's death.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Chris asked her as they walked.

"Just wondering how you can be so callous about someone's death, that's all," Carrie said, "he's not even cold yet and you don't care."

"Don't get me wrong, kiddo," Chris sighed as they walked, "I'm not glad he's dead, but I'm not sorry either. He never did anything but cause pain to my brother and me. If I said now that he was a great guy and it was a shame then I'd be a hypocritical asshole."

"I guess," Carrie chuckled half-heartedly, "that's one of the things I like about you. You're honest to a fault."

"They'll find out who did it," Chris said, hoping he was right, "and this will become a bad memory."

Unfortunately, Chris Healy did not know how wrong he was about this fact. This was just beginning and the worst was definitely yet to come. They walked together silently for a few moments until the others decided to interrupt and figure out where they were going.

"We've got to figure out where we're heading," Tommy said, "it's entirely too cold to stay outside."

"Jason's place is closest," Carrie said, "we're all a mile or more out."

"I don't think Dad would take well to Mike," Jason said, "not to mention he's on another drunk streak. He's been wasted for most of the week. I've already gotten smacked around a couple times. Don't want to risk another one."

"That lets out his place," Chris said, "my father is probably at work. My mother may or may not be there, so that means my place could be safe."

"Think Jerry will be there?" Tommy asked.

"Why should he?" Chris asked him, "He hasn't been there in several days now. I'm sure my parents will eventually put out the dragnet on him if he doesn't shape up soon."

"You're not doing anything, Chris?" Jason asked him.

"I've tried talking to him," Chris shrugged as they kept walking, "he's like a zombie now. Hell, I haven't even seen him since Carrie and I went back to get a change of clothes for me on Saturday night."

"You're kidding?" Carrie said, "You didn't see him last night?"

"I doubt he's been back since," Chris shrugged.

"Strange," Tommy said, "he needs help, man."

"I know that," Chris sighed, "I've tried talking to my dad about it too. But his head is so far up his ass now that he can't understand just how bad it is."

"That really sucks," Jason said.

"No joke," Mike agreed.

Carrie just squeezed his hand and looked at her boyfriend. They walked the rest of the trip in silence, finally arriving at Chris's empty house. They went in and Chris served up some of the soda that was in the fridge.

"I guess someone did a cleanup job here," Carrie said, "did you do it?"

"I think Mom probably did," Chris shrugged, "there's actually a little food in the house now."

"Cool," Carrie nodded, "so has the war ended?"

"I think they've declared a ceasefire right now," Chris grinned, "mainly due to lack of contact. I haven't seen my parents together in days."

"Dysfunctional doesn't even begin to cover what your family is," Tommy said, "you know that?"

"Yeah," Jason agreed, "almost makes my family look normal."

"I'll take my father over yours," Chris said, "being ignored is better than being beaten every time."

"So where do we hang out?" Jason asked.

"My room," Chris said, "it should be safe. Jerry is a ghost, remember?"

They went up the stairs and entered the room. Tommy and Jason's jaws simply dropped when they looked at the bare walls on Jerry's side of the room. They had never seen those walls before. Carrie had been there since Jerry had removed the drawings, but had not noticed because she was more focused on Chris.

"Ok," Tommy said as he continued to look around, "what the hell happened to this room?"

"What's wrong with it?" Mike asked, being the only one who had never been there before, "It looks fine to me."

"Jerry always put up his drawings on the wall," Chris explained to Mike, "up until a week and a half ago those walls were so deep under the paper that I'd forgotten the color of the paint."

"Damn," Mike said, "what happened? He decided to do some cleaning?"

"The letter?" Carrie asked Chris, putting two and two together.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, sitting down on the bed, "After he got the letter I came back and the walls were bare. That was the last straw for him, I think."

"What letter?" Mike asked, not having heard any of this.

Chris spent a few minutes explaining to Mike about Jerry's rejection in the art contest. Mike knew what Chris was talking about, as he had entered the contest as well and received a letter, one thanking him for his submission. He had never heard of submissions being rejected.

"God damn," Mike said, not believing this, "I understand that getting that letter must have sucked, but why did he go so far over the edge?"

"Jerry has been hanging there for a while," Chris said, "it just took that one final jolt. I just hope that he'll come back from the edge."

"You know," Mike said, sitting back in his chair, "I've seen him a couple times over the past couple weeks."

"Who?" Jason asked.

"Jerry," Mike said.

"You're doing better than I am," Chris said, "I've only seen him a half dozen times since he got that letter."

"It was strange though," Mike continued, "I don't know how to describe it."

"Did he actually talk to you?" Carrie asked.

"No," Mike shrugged, "but that's the norm for me. Very few people do."

"So what was strange about it?" Jason asked Mike, taking his hand.

"His eyes," Mike said, "it was like they burned through me. He'd barely glanced at me, but I could feel the anger coming from him."

"That sounds like Jerry," Chris nodded, "he doesn't seem to have anything left but the anger inside that keeps him warm."

"Let's just hope it gets put out before it explodes," Carrie said.

"Ok," Tommy said, "enough of this. Let's play some cards before this subject brings me down anymore."

"I'm game," Jason agreed, "Mike? Chris?"

"I'll pass," Chris said, "you guys can use Jerry's card table. He hasn't seemed to need it."

"Sounds good to me," Mike said, "who's dealing?"

"You are," Tommy said, "it's time for the new boy to lose."

Carrie and Chris sat together on Chris's bed. Chris turned on the little black and white TV he had in the room and they watched the breaking news coverage on Morton Farnsworth's death. It looked like the same coverage they had watched after Annie's death.

This routine went on for a few hours, until they heard someone moving around downstairs. Chris figured that it was probably either Jerry or his mother. Just to be on the safe side he and Carrie moved apart a few inches, though they continued to hold hands.

Juliana Healy decided to check on her children and went up to their room. She heard the TV and knew that at least one of them was there. She had been worried about them for a while, knowing that she had not been doing a good job at being a mother. She figured it was time to try to repair that a little. Chris had left the door open and his mother walked in, seeing activity in that room for the first time in a while.

"Hello there," Juliana said, her best fake smile up for the visitors, "It's been a while since I've seen this many people here."

"Hello Mrs. Healy," Jason and Tom said together, almost in unison.

"What's up, Mom?" Chris asked her, "I haven't seen you around much either."

"I've been working on a big deal," she said with a smile, "I may get a piece of that strip development up by the mall."

"That's great," Chris said, lying through his teeth. He thought it was a poor reason to ignore her kids.

"How are you doing, Carrie?" Juliana asked her.

"Not bad, considering," she sighed, "it's not been a good week."

"Why's that?" Mrs. Healy asked.

"You haven't heard the news yet, have you Mom?" Chris asked her.

"What news?" she asked her son.

Chris spent the next few minutes filling his mother in on Morton Farnsworth's untimely demise. Juliana Healy had not seen a television in days and was unaware of either of the mysterious murders. She was visibly shocked, just like everyone else had been.

"That's terrible," she said, "they let you out of school after this?"

"Nobody was going to be able to concentrate," Jason said, "Cookie Morris was about to go nuts, and some of the others weren't far behind."

"You seem to be taking it well," Juliana Healy noticed.

"No reason not to," Chris shrugged, "I don't think anyone in this room will particularly miss Mort. Especially after what he did to Jerry a couple months back."

"I see," she said and then decided to get away from the subject, "speaking of your brother, have you seen him?"

"Not since Saturday," Chris said, shaking his head, "I came in for a change of clothes and saw him then for a few seconds."

"Since Saturday?" his mother said, not knowing what to say, "Where has he been?"

"He may have been here," Chris shrugged, "I crashed at Tom and Carrie's for the duration, so I didn't see him."

"Ok," she said, realizing she was in no place to push the subject, "I guess he'll come back when he gets hungry. I'll catch him then."

"Yeah," Chris said, not quite believing it.

Juliana Healy was about to walk out the door when she remembered the other question she wanted to ask him. Unlike Joe Healy, she knew that the hole in the wall at the bottom of the stairs had not been a result of the weekend's fighting.

"Chris?" She said, in her motherly tone of voice.

"Yeah?" Chris asked, wondering what she wanted.

"Did you or your brother make the hole downstairs?" she asked him.

Carrie went white as a sheet, because she knew why Jerry had done it. Chris was torn between duty to his brother and not wanting to take the blame for something he didn't do. He decided that he was sick of trying to cover for his brother and told his mother as much of the truth as she needed to hear.

"Jerry did it on Saturday," Chris said and then diplomatically left out the reason why.

"Why?" she asked him, knowing there was probably more to it than that.

"I've got no idea," Chris lied, "he just walked out of here and I heard a crash. When I came down later I found it."

"I see," Mrs. Healy nodded, knowing that there was probably more to it but that she would not get it with the other kids around. She decided to let the subject lie for the moment and that she would take it up with Jerry when he came home.

She made her apologies to the others and then decided to depart the room. Chris breathed a sigh of relief, though he had to wonder what would happen with Jerry when she confronted him on it. It was not until Juliana Healy left the room that the color returned to Carrie's face. Chris kissed her cheek and smiled at her.

"Good footwork," Carrie said.

"What does that mean?" Tommy asked, "Is there something else we should know here?"

"Nothing you need to know," Carrie grinned.

"Nothing at all," Chris agreed.

"This sounds interesting," Jason said, "what do you think, Mike?"

"I'm staying out of this one," he said, "I am playing a two of hearts, so lay your card down."

"Ok," Tommy said, laying his ace of spades down and losing the hand, "Since I've already lost this game, spill it. What is so funny about Jerry putting a hole in the wall?"

"Nothing funny about it," Chris said grimly, "nothing at all."

"So why the footwork with your mother?" Tommy asked, "And why are you so glad, Carrie?"

"Should we tell them the story?" Carrie asked.

"I don't know," Chris said, shaking his head, "don't know if their poor hearts can take the excitement."

"Bite me, Healy," Jason said, "spill it already."

Carrie shrugged and Chris recounted what happened when they had returned for a change of clothes that Saturday afternoon. Chris recounted a sanitized version of the horseplay on the bed and Jerry's reaction to walking in on them. It got a good laugh out of everyone.

"Jerry actually thought the two of you were doing it?" Tommy asked, "And exactly how close were you?"

"Not that close," Carrie said, frowning at her brother, "I still had my clothes on and Chris was only minus that filthy shirt he had been wearing. Fairly innocent, really."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "we were just trying to keep warm."

"Bullshit," Jason observed.

"I second that," Tommy agreed, with a quiet concurring vote from Mike.

"I don't care what you think," Carrie grinned, "you are just jealous anyway."

"I still don't know what I think about this," Tommy said, half grinning. He still had some philosophical issues with his sister dating and possibly sleeping with one of his best friends.

"Ok," Chris said, "that's enough about that. How bout we get away from those damned playing cards and do some trivia."

"Sounds good to me," Tommy agreed, "I'm ready to beat you again."

"Mike may be able to give you some competition," Jason said, "might even give Chris a run for his money."

"That I'll have to see," Carrie smiled and pulled out the cards from her backpack, "ready to put your brain where your mouth is?"

"I'm not that good, really," Mike protested.

"That never stopped Jason," Chris noted, "let's play a game."

It turned out to be a good game for them. Tommy and Jason brought up the rear, as Mike pummeled them both. Towards the end it looked like Mike might pull a squeaker out against Chris, but Chris's mastery and love of history texts brought the ball into his court. He managed to win over Mike by a single point.
Chapter 15: December 2, 1985, 9:12pm

Ding Dong the King is Dead...

Chris knew that his father was going to get home sometime soon after five, so the party in his room broke up soon before then. It turned out to be a wise move, minutes after his father entered the house the fighting began again in earnest. Deciding that food was not important enough to risk going through the parental war zone downstairs he decided to turn on the radio and read for a while.

Chris decided to drown out the bitterness downstairs with a healthy dose of Elvis Costello. He picked out one of the cassettes that Carrie had copied for him earlier in the summer. The angry vocals of Lipstick Vogue and other Costello standards were exactly what he needed at the time.

Chris pulled out another one of his favorite Rex Stout novels, the last one the master mystery writer had produced before his death. Chris delved in to "A Family Affair" and spent the next two hours immersing himself in Archie Goodwin's account of finding out one of their own was a murderer.

Chris was just about to the climax of the book, with the murderer being revealed when the phone downstairs started ringing. He pondered going into his parents' room and answering it, but he figured that his parents could deal with it. Chris figured that it was probably the cops having picked up Jerry.

"Chris!" his mother yelled in her usual shrill voice, "Tommy Caron is on the phone!"

"I'll get it up here," Chris yelled back.

He went in to the bedroom and picked up the phone, and immediately heard Tommy breathing hard. Chris sat down and wondered what got Tommy all riled up.

"Tommy?" Chris asked.

"Dude," Tommy said, "you're not going to believe this!"

"Ok," Chris said, "I may not, but tell me anyway."

"The killer struck again," Tommy said, "bad one this time."

Chris's stomach went into knots. He did not know what to think. He thought for a second that it might have been Carrie, but realized that Tommy would have been crying in that case. He wondered who had gone down this time.

"Who is it, Tommy?" Chris asked him.

"Andy," Tommy said and sighed, calming down again, "Andy King."

"Jesus," Chris said, "this son of a bitch is cutting a swath through the student power structure, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Tommy agreed, "but this time whoever it was went a little farther."

"How?" Chris asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"This time the killer struck the house," Tommy said, "took both Andy and His parents."

"Should I turn on the news?" Chris asked.

"No point," Tommy said, "it just happened. The police are out there. Don't know if the press has it yet or not."

"How's Carrie taking it?" Chris asked Tommy, showing his main concern.

"She asked me to call and ask you to come down here," Tommy said, "truth be told, I wouldn't mind having you around at this point either."

"Yeah," Chris said, sighing, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I don't know," Tommy said, "I certainly hope not."

"I'll be down there as soon as I can," Chris said, "I'm going to grab something at Cashman's on the way. I still haven't eaten yet."

"We'll be in the crowd," Tommy told him, "I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding it."

"I'll follow the blue lights," Chris promised.

"Be careful," Tommy warned him, "I don't want to have to put up with Carrie's sobbing if they find you tomorrow."

"Don't worry," Chris said, "I'm not big enough to be a target."

"Let's hope so," Tommy said, "be careful anyway. See you in a bit."

"Right," Chris said and put down the phone.

He bundled up and got ready to go out. His parents were still fighting in the living room. It amazed Chris that they had the stamina to do this for hours on end. He fished into his father's pocket again, taking another twenty so he could get a burger down at the corner.

Chris was almost out the door when he heard the shouting stop and his mother's voice come after him. Chris turned around and looked to see whether they had actually noticed his attempted departure. They had.

"Where the hell do you think you're going this late?" Juliana Healy asked her son.

"I'm getting out of here," Chris said, not wanting to talk about the murders, "I need some peace and quiet, so I'm going to take a walk. Is that all right with you?"

Chris started out the door. His mother tried to go after him, but was stopped by his father. This started yet another fight, which left Chris free to walk away from the house. He made a beeline down to Cashman's store and put down a hamburger, just because he knew he might not have the chance again for a while. With his stomach out of the way, he headed down towards the Caron house.

Chris had known that Andy King lived near Carrie and Tommy, but it had never been a major factor in his life. The only close contact Chris had had with Andy was a time a few years before when Andy had kept pushing Chris verbally (he was too small to do much else) over time. Chris actually decked him in the hall one day, picking him up by the neck and narrowly skirting getting caught by the teachers. Andy had not gone near him again and that was the last time they had really had any contact.

Chris saw the blue lights from two blocks away. He jogged towards the area and saw the crowd being held behind an arbitrary line created by the police department. The press had started to show up, so they were occupying most of the spaces trying to get their pictures. The King house was only two lots away from Tommy and Carrie's place.

Chris found Tommy and Carrie standing at the edge of the crowd on the side closest to home. Matthew Caron, their father, was standing there with them. Chris walked over and looked at the scene with them. Carrie saw him and ran into his arms, not caring that her father was there.

"Anything new?" Chris asked them as he hugged Carrie tightly.

"No," Tommy said, "the ambulances just showed up though."

"I don't think I want to watch this," Matt Caron said, "I saw enough of this in the army."

"You were in the army?" Chris asked.

"Served a tour in Vietnam," The elder Caron said, "I'm going to go inside."

"Do we have to go?" Tommy asked.

"No," Matt said, understanding his children's morbid fascination, "Just don't stay out too late, eh? When the cops leave, you come in."

"Ok," Tommy promised.

Carrie's head was still buried in Chris's shoulder. Matt Caron considered asking what Chris's true relationship with his daughter was, but decided that he was better off not knowing. Chris Healy was someone that his kids had known for years and if she had to have a first love it was probably best that it was him. He went back into the house and hugged his wife tightly.

"Did you call Jason?" Chris asked Tommy as he continued to hold on to Carrie.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, "he should be here at any time."

"This can't be happening," Carrie said, her voice muted by the sobs, "Andy may have been an asshole, but his parents were nice."

"The police will find the bastard," Tommy said, "won't they Chris?"

"I hope so," Chris said absently, watching the police around the house, "I just hope that what I feel in my gut is wrong."

"Do I want to know?" Tommy asked him.

"Probably not," Chris said, "but I'm sure you already do."

The conversation ended for a few moments when they started bringing bodies out of the house. The first one was small enough that it had to be Andy King. Carrie, despite the fact that she disliked him intensely, started sobbing in earnest then. Chris had to hold on tight to keep her from falling down. While the medical technicians were busy putting the body in the ambulance Jason Brigand came up behind them.

"This isn't good," Jason said as he watched, "are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Chris nodded sadly. He, Jason and Tommy had all had the same thought when they heard that Andy King was the third victim. These were all people who Jerry Healy had very large reasons to hate. Jerry had also been acting very strangely for the past week. It did not take a genius to see that it was very possible that he was the one doing the killing.

"What do we do?" Tommy asked him.

"Tell the police," Carrie said, still crying, "Let them find Jerry."

"We've got no proof," Jason reminded her, "just some suspicions."

"So?" Carrie said, "That's their job."

"I'm not going to rat my brother without some proof," Chris said resolutely, "I think I need to see if I can find him. He may just be sitting down at the lighthouse still."

"I don't think this is the best place to discuss this," Jason said, "that cop is looking at you guys."

James Calysto was standing by the front door looking at the crowd. His eyes stopped on Chris Healy, who looked back at him. Calysto was in a quandary. He knew that the killings were related, but did not know the link. Chris knew better. Chris decided that Jason was right and they needed to go somewhere else.

"Let's go up to the den," Tommy suggested, "its cold out here."

There was a general murmur of agreement out of the other three and they followed along silently. The mood inside the Caron house was not much happier than the mood outside was. Matt Caron was holding his wife on the couch. Tommy told them they would be in the upstairs den and got a silent nod from his father. His father had known Frank King for over twenty years, so his death was a bit of a blow.

"Ok guys," Chris said when they got upstairs, "what do you think we should do?"

"I still say that we should tell the cops," Carrie said, "If he's killing people that means he needs to be picked up."

"He needs help is what he needs," Tommy argued, "I can't believe that Jerry would do this."

"We don't know he's done anything," Jason said, being the voice of reason, "Maybe we should find him and ask him. He won't do anything to us."

"You willing to risk your neck on that if you're wrong?" Chris asked, "I hate to say it, but I'm his brother and I don't know if I'm safe around him anymore."

"Remember what he did when he found us in your bed?" Carrie reminded him, "He's got a lot of anger stored up. Maybe it decided to blow?"

"This is nuts!" Jason exclaimed, "This isn't some random person, this is Jerry. I can't believe that Jerry would do this."

"We need to find him," Chris said, "he's the only one who can tell us that we're wrong."

"How do we find him?" Carrie asked, "And how do we avoid becoming his victims if he is the one?"

"Not we," Chris said, "me. I'll find him. He's my responsibility."

"Bullshit," Jason said, "I'm staying with you on this."

"No," Chris said firmly, "I don't want to risk it. He won't hurt me. I don't think he can. Besides, I have to find him anyway."

"Maybe there's a clue in his stuff in the house," Tommy suggested.

"We'll come along and help look," Carrie said with the agreement of the others, "we know him as well as you do."

"Not this time," Chris said, "I have to do this alone. Besides, I doubt your parents will let you out and Jason's dad will smack him if he stays out too late."

"It will be worth it," Jason said.

"I need you to be able to get out," Chris said, "if Jerry is doing it, then I'm going to need you and I'm going to need you whole."

"And what if he is doing it?" Carrie asked, "What then?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," Chris promised, "without proof or some form of confirmation of these feelings I'm not going to do it though."

"You shouldn't go alone," Carrie said resolutely, "we can tell my parents and they'll go to the police with us."

"We need to know more," Chris said and kissed Carrie on the forehead, "could you turn Tommy in on evidence as flimsy as our suspicions?"

Carrie thought about that for a minute. Jerry had treated everyone like dirt for weeks, but she knew what Chris meant. He could not bring himself to believe that Jerry could have gone bad. She knew he had to answer some questions for himself. It did not mean that she had to like it, however.

"I understand," Carrie sighed, "I don't like it, but I understand."

"If you need us," Tommy said, "we'll be here. Toss some snow at the window to get our attention."

"I'm going with you, Chris," Jason said again, "I'm not letting you face him alone."

"You need to get home," Chris said, "I'm going to search his room first anyway. If I find anything there I'll go to the cops and let them find him."

Carrie suddenly sat up and pulled Chris into a deep, loving kiss. She knew he needed the support and wished that she could go with him. She also knew he would have to do this search on his own. She looked into his eyes and tried to convey that fact without words.

"All right," Chris said at the end of that kiss, "I guess I'd better get on with it."

"Be careful," Carrie told him, "don't take any stupid risks for your brother."

"You got it," Chris nodded, "I have no desire to become a victim."

The four of them walked down the stairs together and went out on to the Caron's front porch. Carrie hugged Chris again and tried to smile at him. It was obvious that she was very scared for him. He smiled back and looked into her eyes. He knew she was about to tell him to be careful again.

"Don't worry," Chris said, "I'll find Jerry, prove that he's just been dodging the parents and be back here in time for us to all laugh about it."

Chris and Jason walked away into the night towards the Healy house. Chris was dreading what he would find when he got there. He was still feeling guilty for thinking that his brother was a murderer, but he did not know what else to think.

"You going to be all right, Chris?" Jason asked him after a few minutes of walking in silence.

"Would you be?" Chris asked him.

"You're still wondering if Jerry is capable of it," Jason said, "aren't you."

"Not really," Chris sighed, "I'm already past that part. You remember the beach last summer, don't you?"

"Yeah," Jason nodded, remembering the tough guy that Jerry held the knife to, "That look in his eyes. He really wanted to kill the guy."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Chris sighed, "I just don't know what to do."

"Do what you can," Jason shrugged, "if he's gone nuts, turn him in."

"Yeah," Chris said as they approached his house, "easy as that."

"Sure you don't want me to come in?" Jason asked him, knowing Chris would refuse.

"No," Chris sighed, "this is something I gotta do myself, guy. Go home and give Mike a call. Get him on standby. If this gets out of hand I'm going to need all the help I can get. If you had to go get a boyfriend, you could have done worse."

"All right," Jason sighed, "you know how to find me."

Jason disappeared into the darkness and left Chris standing alone in front of the old two-story house that he had called home for most of his life. He sighed and went into the house. The house was dark and spooky. He could see his father sleeping on the couch, probably tired out by the incessant fighting.

Chris went up to his room, feeling a little bit of trepidation. He was afraid of what he would find there, though he chided himself for being silly. He kept telling himself that he had nothing to fear from his brother, even though he now knew that he was wrong.

Chris stepped into the room and turned on the light, finding little but silence. If Jerry had set foot in this room since he had caught Chris and Carrie three days before the room showed no signs of it. Chris walked over into his brother's half of the room and looked around. It was too clean, too spotless for it to be Jerry's. It was as if he'd never lived there before.

"This is nuts," Chris said to himself, "Jerry can't be a murderer."

Chris poked around under his brother's bed, looking at things in the room, looking for something, anything that could give him a sign of his brother's mind. He was not sure what he was looking for, but he kept trying anyway. Eventually, after about an hour of looking around Chris decided to turn on the black and white TV set.

"This is Sean Jones here in front of the King house," the reporter started, "the site of some of the most brutal killings that this city has ever seen. Alexander James King, his wife Juliet, and his son Andrew Price King were all found brutally slain, barely three hours ago. Police are baffled at the reasons for this apparently senseless murder. There is suspicion that it may be related to the recent murders of two Promitter High School students, Anne Michelle Jenkins and Morton Farnsworth."

"Are there any leads to the perpetrator?" the female anchor asked Jones.

Chris was wondering the same thing himself. He hoped that maybe they would have some answers that he did not.

"Well, Katie," Jones continued, "the murder weapon in the King killings has been located. It seems that the killer left his knife in the body of young Andrew King, for reasons that no one has been able to explain."

Chris perked up at that. He watched the close up as the police walked out and showed the drooling horde of press hounds the murder weapon. Chris squinted at the screen and looked at it. Sean Jones, the on site reporter, described it as a rusty five inch lock bladed pocketknife.

"Son of a bitch," Chris said, "I knew it."

Chris turned off the television and sat down on Jerry's bed again. He put his head in his hands and debated on what to do next. His anger was slowly building as well. Finally he stood up and kicked his brother's bed, wishing it was Jerry so he could get it out.

The kick dislodged a composition book that had been stuck between the mattresses. Chris picked up the book and looked at it for a minute. It had his brother's scratchy handwriting on it and looked like it had seen some heavy use. He flipped it open and began to look at the handwriting. It looked like he had been using this book to write down his thoughts.

"Let's see what's on your mind," Chris said as he started to read.

Most of it was illegible scribbles, but some sections made for some interesting reading. Reading the sections made him realize that he had never really known his brother at all. He got more out of Jerry's half thought out words than he ever did out of his mouth.

Chris sat down and decided to read his brother's personal diary, in hopes that it would prove or disprove what he had been thinking about his brother.
Chapter 16: December 2, 1985 11:30pm

The Journal

Chris Healy read the journal with a morbid fascination. It told him things about his brother that he had never once suspected before. It also proved to him that Jerry was even crazier than he thought. Excerpts from this journal are reprinted here, just as Chris Healy read them that night.

### June 28, 1985

I guess it's time for me to write again. Oh yes, you should have seen it today. I stood my own against the motherfuckers in this world! I did what I had to do and I did it well. Scared the fuck out of those punks! They won't mess with Jerry Healy again, no way no how. I just loved the look in that musclebound moron's eyes when I had my blade up to his throat. That son of a bitch actually pissed his pants! Chris was going out of his mind, but hell, it was worth it! One of these days, Chris will see more than just his fuckup of a little brother. Oh well, he's there and he won't hurt me. I know it. He's the least of my worries. I got the motherfucker! That's all that matters to me. Just wish that Chris had had the balls to let me do what should have been done. Oh well, there's definitely next time.

### September 5, 1985

Today was a day that was beyond belief! I actually got to touch Miss Vasquez's tits! That woman has a body that you wouldn't fucking believe! Oh man, they just looked so ripe and good, I would have held on longer if the bitch didn't start screaming. I just can't believe that I got the opportunity to do it. She may have screamed, but that was just for appearances. Oh man, she was writhing in pleasure underneath. I bet she had to change her underwear from creaming herself that much. Oh, man was this ever worth it or not. It was all I could do to keep a straight face as the old man gave me a lecture on the subject. How can one look at a set of knockers like hers and keep their hands to themselves? Anyway, today was a damn good day. I, Jerome Allen Healy, actually touched a living woman's tits. It was fucking great! Oh shit, got to go, Chris is coming.

### October 25, 1985

Damn that Annie! What the fuck does she think she is doing? She is my girl, doesn't she realize this? She will be mine no matter what! Oh Annie, you are the love of my life and the reason for my being. Why the fuck can't you realize this and stop offering yourself to idiotic pricks like those ones around you at school! It's tearing me apart to see all this shit going on around me. One day, Annie, it's going to be you and me. You and me in a place that the assholes can never ever get us. In a world far away from this hell. It's not fair for you to do this to me you know. I'm the man and you're the FUCKING WOMAN Annie! You are supposed to listen to ME, be here for ME and not prostituting your ass out to every scumbag motherfucker out there in the school. I will take what is rightfully mine. I talked to Carrie about you today. Carrie doesn't understand how things truly are between us. Nobody does. Not even my fucking brother can understand the bond between us, Annie. But I do. And I know you do too. One of these days we will be together. I promise you that! We will be together, and we'll never be apart again!

### October 31, 1985

Those rotten fucking bastards!!!! Oh, you are all going to pay, yes, every single last motherfucking one of you. How could they do that to me? Those were my thoughts, my drawings, MY FUCKING LIFE!!! They don't know, they can't know. They don't have the goddamn brains to see what they've done. But they'll fucking pay. Every one of them will get it. I will get them. They will be stopped and they will be offered up as sacrifice. There will be no stopping me from getting what I want and you just put yourselves on my shit list. Oh yes, my ugly fucking popular scumbag slut fucking friends! You are all going to get yours. Oh yes, you're all going to suffer the wrath of Jerry Healy. I am everything, you are nothing. Oh yes, you're going to have to pay for your stunts. Your lives are worthless as far as I'm concerned. It's ok, Annie, just wait. When you and I are together none of those fuckers will matter a damn. It'll be you and me and our love makes three. Mort Farnsworth, you fucking maggot piece of sewer scum. Let's see how you and your slut girlfriend Morris will fair with your guts strung up all over that hell hole they call Promitter High. And Andy, dear sweet little fucking maggot Andy, I will take personal pleasure of hanging your scrawny little ass out to dry. I will get all of them. I'll not forget. Oh no, you can never make me forget. You can try, and you can try to destroy me, but damnit, I will destroy you first and I will get Annie and all will be well in the world because you will never ever be there to hurt me again. I will take my pain and put it back on you, my friends, and then you will feel nothing, which is a damn sight better than what you ever did to me. You will feel nothing, but then again, so will I when it's all over. I seek the nothingness. It will be the result of all my life's work. The life that will be the one I so desperately seek. The one I will make because no one alive, save for my dear sweet Annie, will be able to create it for me. In this there is truth, and without it, there is nothingness.

### November 22, 1985

I can't fucking believe it! Obscene! You've got to be fucking kidding me. There is nothing obscene about the truth. Art is truth and truth is life so my art is damn well life. I can't believe that they thought it was that bad. Everything I've believed in all this time. It's so wrong. He was right. My art is fucking terrible. It all sucks and it is all their fault! Every single one of them did it when they took my soul from me. They took it, just as sure as everything is rotten. And where was my goddamn brother when they were ripping my fucking life apart? With a goddamn girl. Carrie. Is Carrie more fucking important to him than I am? Well shit, I guess so. I don't care. They've taken it all from me. Don't you see it? Oh, I do. There's just nothing left. Maybe even Annie hates me. No, I can't think like that. They took my art but they can't take her from me too. There is nothing left without her. She has to realize this. I don't know. Maybe it'll get better. I don't fucking care at this point in time. Those goddamn art commission idiots. They don't realize what that meant to me. Maybe I should send more to them, maybe if they see it again they'll realize what a mistake it was. No, no that'll never do. That fucking prick Montgomery would never let my so called obscene work into his precious fucking committee. I don't care. I'll never draw again. I'm sure the world can do without another loser like me adding more shit to this world. Oh god, can't they see what they've done? CAN'T YOU SEE THAT YOU ARE FUCKING KILLING ME?!? I don't know what I can do anymore. There is nothing left for me. I'm a goner, but damn it, there is still hope. I can make hope. Annie can give me the hope that I need. My brother may not be worth a shit to me anymore, but damnit I'm sure we can do something about that one too. All will be fine when Annie takes her rightful place by my side. The world will be all flowers and roses and then maybe I can start drawing again. Drawing real pictures and not these pieces of crap that I have here.

There, that's better. The offending crap is gone from my life. There is nothing left of the old me. Now there is the new me that Annie will love. The new me that will get the motherfuckers that made the old life a living hell. Oh yes, you will all pay. Nothing in the world will stop me from getting my satisfaction, just you wait and see. It'll be the truth that will get you and the truth that will set me free. I know the truth, do you? I think you do and I think you hear me knocking cause I'm coming to you. I'm coming for you.

### November 27, 1985

Life doesn't seem to be getting any better. It's time for me to make my mark in life. It's time for me to get the woman I want. I've got the tools I need. My hair is combed, my breath is fresh and I took a shower. Oh yes, Annie, today you are going to become mine. I'm sure that you will see the error in your ways when you see me in the light that I belong. You will give me the love and affection that I deserve from you. I am the one who loves you most after all. Your mind is pure still, regardless of what those motherfuckers have done to your body. Chris is off somewhere doing something right now, I don't much care what. He's probably off fucking Carrie and plotting ways to help them destroy me. Even if my brother doesn't give a fuck about me, I know you do Annie. It'll be ok after tomorrow. You can give me the encouragement and the inspiration I need to do my drawings again. All will be well after tomorrow!

December 2, 1985

It's all over. Nothing's left. All dreams are gone. Now the motherfuckers will pay.

THE TRUTH SHALL SET ME FREE!
Chapter 17: December 3, 1985, 12:34am

Chris's Run

It was shortly after midnight when Chris finished reading the journal. His mind was racing around in circles. He had no idea what to do next. The last entry of the journal, the one dated on the second, was written in a sticky red substance that he was almost certain was blood.

"Think, Chris!" he said to himself as he paced, "Think!"

He tried to delve into his brother's mind to figure out who would be next. He started at the top, with Morton Farnsworth and moved on to his annoying little buddy Andy King. Chris tried to think of who his brother's next target would be.

Chris went back to the journal and looked at the pages written the day Mort and his friends humiliated him in public. Two of the three people mentioned there were dead. Chris reasoned that Cookie Morris was probably going to be the third one if she wasn't already.

"This is crazy," Chris said to himself, "I can't do this."

Chris walked downstairs and looked at his parents. He thought about trying to wake them up and explaining this, but didn't think they'd believe him. He wondered what he could do. He paced around a little more, his indecision growing.

"You're not going to accomplish anything here," he said to himself finally.

He made the decision that he was going to go check out Cookie's place. The worst that could happen was that he could waste his time. The best was that he could prevent another murder. He didn't know which one he was hoping for at this point.

He went out to the garage and looked for suitable weaponry in case he was right about his brother's intentions. He searched the garage and came up with a pellet gun and a baseball bat. He shoved the pellet gun in his pants and took the ball bat in his hand.

"It's time," Chris said and walked out the door.

He knew where Cookie Morris lived because it was one of the largest houses in the city. It was over on Ocean Drive sitting perched on a hill overlooking about four acres of land owned by Cookie's father, businessman Adam Morris. It also held on to its own beachfront despite the fact that the state had long ago decreed that no one could own the beach access.

Chris Healy was an interesting sight as he jogged towards the Morris estate, carrying the old Louisville Slugger baseball bat that he and his brother had once used to learn how to play baseball. That, of course, was during happier times before the family home had disintegrated into a war zone.

While he was jogging he tried to figure out why his brother had killed Andy's entire family. It just did not make any sense to him. By all accounts Andy's parents were actually decent people. They just had the bad luck to be the parents of an asshole. Good people have bad kids. It is just the nature of life.

Chris knew that if he tried to go to the street access of Cookie's house it would cost him about twenty minutes and another mile. He cut through the back yard of an old couple that bordered on the Morris estate and scaled a cheap chain link fence that separated the land.

"If this is security," Chris mumbled to himself as he jumped down on the other side of the fence, "then Adam Morris needs to hire someone new."

Chris jogged towards the house and realized that if Jerry was going to spend time on a victim this would be the ideal location. The trees would ensure that anyone screaming in the house would not be heard until it was too late.

Chris cautiously approached the back of the house and looked around. The first thing he noticed was an unsightly mass of wire hanging from the wall. Chris approached and recognized it as the phone cabling. It was the first sign that he had been right. He just hoped that he was not too late.

Suddenly, Chris heard a scream coming from the house. He raised his bat and went quickly towards the source of the scream, which sounded male to him. He was not quite sure what to do from here. He was now sure that his suspicion had been proven right, which scared him almost as much as the fact that someone was probably dying here.

Chris did not want to look. At this point he was a fifteen year old who had never seen a dead body outside of a funeral. He was not prepared for what he knew he would probably see when he looked into the window. Chris Healy stood there frozen outside the window for a few minutes, trying to get the courage to look.

Chris was able to hear muted voices, but could not make out what they were saying. He was almost catatonic after a minute, unable to move, unable to think clearly. It was not until the next scream that he was able to force himself to stand up straight and look into the window. Inside, he saw a scene that would give him nightmares for the rest of his natural life.

There were four people in the room, only three of whom were still among the living. A middle-aged woman, Cookie Morris's mother, was already lying inert on the floor. She had been murdered brutally, probably with one of the sharp kitchen knives. Her daughter was sitting bound by duct tape in a kitchen chair, trying to scream through the tape over her mouth. Luckily, she was not badly injured yet.

Adam Morris, the most successful businessman in the city, was not having any luck this night. He was lying bound on the large butcher's block. The screams coming out of his mouth were the result of having large pieces of flesh removed from him with a butcher knife.

In the middle of all this Jerry Healy was standing there, holding a butcher knife and wearing the brightest smile that Chris had ever seen on his brother. Jerry had found his calling, and now he was relishing it as much as Gacy or Bundy had. Chris could not hear what his brother was saying to Cookie Morris, but he knew it could not be pleasant.

Chris knew he had to do something then. He had the proof he needed, but he had not counted on the added complication of there being living people that needed to be saved. He did not like Cookie Morris or any of her friends, but he was not about to let his brother kill someone in front of his eyes.

Chris went over to the nearby patio door and tried the handle. Of course it was locked, but Chris had long since passed the point of caring about hiding his presence. He wound up with the bat and shattered the glass on the door, kicking it aside as he walked into the house and went over to the kitchen, trying to appear much calmer than he felt. He hoped that he would be able to reason with his brother.

"Who is this?" Jerry asked his two captives, "I wonder if we've been discovered?"

"You're damn right you've been discovered," Chris growled, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Jerry?"

Jerry looked at his brother as he walked in to the kitchen. He was not particularly surprised that Chris figured it out. He was even less surprised that Chris had found him. He expected it to happen. He was just trying to figure out the next step with his brother. The look on Jerry's face sent chills through Chris's spine.

"Righting some wrongs," Jerry shrugged, "having some fun at the expense of the people who had fun by hurting me?"

"You think that this entitles you to kill them?" Chris asked incredulously, his hands tightening around the baseball bat.

Jerry laughed and let the oversized butcher knife jump from one hand to the other as he paced a little around the table where Adam Morris was still whimpering. He looked over his brother and tried to determine how much Chris would go through to stop him. He also wondered if there was a chance that his brother would join him.

"It's all in good fun, Chris," Jerry said, his evil smile burning into his brother's soul, "It's a great confidence builder too."

"Great way to do it, Jerry," Chris said, "getting in touch with your inner psychopath."

"Whatever works," Jerry said with a grin, "how did you figure it out?"

"Annie was a shame," Chris said and then goaded his brother, "no loss, but a shame. Mort Farnsworth could have been a coincidence. But when the cops carried your knife away from the scene of Andy's murder I knew it had to be you."

"Not bad," Jerry said, not taking the bait this time, "Not all right, but close. So why are you here?"

"To talk to you," Chris said, "its time to end this stupidity. You need help, Jerry. No one else has to die."

"They all have to die!" Jerry exclaimed, "I'm just getting warmed up, Chris. I've got a lot of scores to settle, and I plan on keeping going until they're done."

"What then?" Chris asked him.

"I'll think of something," Jerry shrugged.

"The police will catch you," Chris said, "you're throwing your life away."

"I had no life to throw," Jerry said, pointing the knife at Cookie, "They took it from me. Her, Mort, everyone else. I had no life, but I'm going to have one now. Look at her, Chris. She's the enemy. She's been the cause of more pain than she ever could make up for in her life. The penalty for that should be severe, and in her case it's going to be death. It's justice."

The Jerry Healy that Chris had grown up with was gone, dead in the mind of a complete and total psychopath. Chris decided to make one last effort to talk him down, however, hoping that he could end this right here.

"This isn't justice, Jerry," Chris said, almost pleading with him, "It is murder. Look at Cookie's eyes. That isn't learning. It's fear. Hell, you're probably seeing much the same look in my eyes. You aren't the same Jerry I grew up with, the one who was a kind, caring person that cared more about art than anything else."

"I'm better!" Jerry exclaimed, "This is art, Chris! I am going to be a god!"

"You're a psychopath!" Chris exclaimed, "You're going to be a footnote, probably not even a movie of the week. Six fucking people are dead. Don't you even care about that? You've killed people now. You're a murderer. You're fucking crazy!"

"There is no greater power than that over a human life," Jerry said as he lifted his knife, "and no better thrill than to have one end at your fingertips."

Jerry Healy looked at Adam Morris for a second and then slowly slit his throat with the butcher knife. Chris watched the blood spurt out, missing Jerry but landing on Cookie. Cookie was trying to scream loudly through her gag and Jerry's eyes lit up at the feel of the power, the only type of power he had ever had in his life.

"You crazy bastard," Chris said as he watched his brother, "I'm going to bring you down."

"I'm sorry you had to say that, Chris," Jerry said, "I should have known that you wouldn't have the balls to join me though. That's ok. It's me against the world. I like it better that way."

"You know, Jerry," Chris said, "the word insane doesn't even begin to cover what you are."

"You're pathetic," Jerry told his brother, "now I've got some work to do. Stay out of the way and you won't get hurt."

"I'm not going to let you kill her, Jerry," Chris said, moving closer to where Cookie was sitting, "It's over."

"I don't think you have the balls," Jerry told his brother as he continued to play with the butcher knife, "let's find out."

Jerry approached Cookie and went after her with the knife, almost reaching her pretty face with the tip before Chris leapt at him swinging the baseball bat. Jerry managed to deflect the blow, avoiding serious damage, but dropped his knife in the process. Chris tried to do a full body tackle on his brother.

Jerry, being a whole lot quicker, managed to get away from his brother and take a quick look at him. If looks could kill, Chris Healy would have died on the spot. Jerry then rushed to the counter and grabbed another knife to attack his brother.

Chris used the bat to parry his brother's attacks with the knife and to try to get a shot in. Finally he reared back to try to get a full swing on Jerry's head to end the battle. He missed, striking out and losing his own balance in the process.

Jerry, in his rage, forgot the knife and charged his brother, sending his already unbalanced body toppling over backwards onto Cookie, who was still tied up in the chair. Jerry's momentum kept him going while Chris tumbled over Cookie's squirming form. They were up again in seconds and squaring off.

Chris took another swing with the bat and managed to connect to Jerry's shoulder, causing him to fumble the knife and take a few steps to recover from the sheer shock of the blow. Chris moved closer to put himself between his brother and Cookie.

"You motherfucker!" Jerry shrieked at his brother, "You're going to get yours!"

"You first," Chris gasped before lunging at his brother again.

Chris went over and tried to put him down enough to be able to call the police to pick him up. Jerry was just toying with him now, however, knowing that he was faster than Chris could be with that weapon. Cookie was squirming around on the floor trying to break the bonds that Jerry had put on her. She was only a few feet from her newly deceased father and was hoping to avoid joining him.

Jerry kept going for another knife, but Chris kept him both away from the knife and from Cookie. The fight was going nowhere, so Jerry decided to attempt to take the bat away from his brother. He feinted left and when Chris began to swing he came around the outside of the swing and tried to grab the bat.

"I don't think so!" Chris yelled and used Jerry's forward momentum and hold on the bat against him.

Chris pulled back and sent Jerry tumbling into the rack of pots and pans that was against one of the walls. There was a large crashing sound as he tumbled in to it, bringing down the contents of the rack on himself. Chris saw that his brother was down and figured that the fall would be enough to keep him down there for a bit.

Chris went over to Cookie and picked up a fallen knife, using it to remove the gag over her mouth so she could breathe properly. He was about to go for her bonds when he heard motion from the pile of pots and pans over his brother. Chris stood bolt upright and watched his brother climb back to his feet, an expression of pure hatred on his face.

Chris stood up with the knife and looked at his brother. He circled the room a little bit. When Cookie saw him up and moving around she began screaming, a shrill, bloodcurdling scream that would have been at home in any horror movie. Jerry was staring at his brother with a hatred that had been previously reserved for Mort, Andy and Cookie. Chris was the enemy now.

"Come on," Chris taunted him, "let's see what you've really got."

Jerry grinned maliciously and went after his brother again. Chris let off a perfect sidekick that caught Jerry in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Jerry was slowed, but not enough to allow himself to stop. He lashed out at the back of Chris's knee, sending him down to the floor, dropping his own knife.

Jerry snatched up a knife from the holder on the counter, this one a smaller paring knife. He raised it up and got ready to strike at Chris, who was still on the floor after being knocked down.

"It's time for you to go," Jerry said and started what he thought would be a killing blow.

"You first!" Chris grunted as he tried to get out of the way of the strike.

While he rolled he kicked his brother's leg, sending his balance out of the way. Chris then got to his feet and remembered the pellet gun in his pants. He tried to pull it out to aim it at his brother, but was not quite fast enough. Jerry saw the butt of the gun and charged his brother, managing to actually strike a hit with the little paring knife in Chris's right side, causing him to fumble the pellet gun.

Chris screamed and pushed his brother back. He managed to keep hold of himself enough to let off a good solid kick to Jerry's nuts. It took a lot of will to do that, but it was certainly effective. While Jerry was retreating a little Chris yanked the little paring knife out of his side, letting out a good deal of blood and causing a lot of pain.

"You bastard," Chris said, "I'm going to get you for this."

"You have to catch me first," Jerry said, smiling through his own pain.

"I'll let the police do that," Chris said.

"You wouldn't dare," Jerry said, surprised by that. Chris had never been a big fan of the local police department.

"Try me," Chris said as he bent down to pick up the pellet gun, "I will stop you."

"You can try," Jerry grinned and ran out the door, "but I have other plans."

Chris fired a couple of shots from the pellet gun as he watched his brother run out the door. Chris sighed as he looked down at his bloody wound. It was not serious. Jerry had only hit flesh. It just hurt. He collapsed on to the floor and looked at Cookie, who was not quite all there.

"Get me out of here!" Cookie screamed at him, her sanity even more gone than his was.

"Yeah," Chris said absently and made himself move.
Chapter 18: December 3, 1985, 2:02am

Field of Nightmares

Chris cut Cookie's bonds and let her sit up. He was hurting bad enough that he did not even want to contemplate it. Cookie went straight over to her mother's body. She was weeping over her slain parents as Chris sat there trying to muster up the energy to move. He looked at Cookie idly, wondering what the next step was.

"They're dead!" Cookie screamed, "He killed them!"

"Yeah," Chris admitted, his voice sounding much older and very resigned, "He did."

"How could you let him do this?" Cookie shrieked, "Why would he do this?"

"Good question to keep asking yourself," Chris said as he pulled himself up, "But, the better question is where he's going next."

"Oh my god they're dead," Cookie said in a wail as she wandered around the room, "he's killed them both!"

Chris thought about that for a minute. He knew he had to tell his parents. His parents may not have been that great of parents, but they would believe him in this. They had seen Jerry's abrupt change. The wound in his side would not lie either. Besides, the longer he stayed here, the more danger his parents were in.

Chris started heading for the door when Cookie noticed him trying to leave. She was not quite all back yet, as the shock was still weighing heavily on her pretty little head, but she knew that he was the one who had stopped Jerry.

"Where are you going?" Cookie asked him, the hysteria still there in her voice.

"I've got to warn my parents," Chris said, "Jerry is still out there."

"Don't leave me!" Cookie screamed, "What if he comes back?"

Chris thought about that for a minute. It would be a Jerry thing to do to circle around and wait for him to leave, just to take out Cookie. He could not wait for the police here, however, because he feared for what Jerry would do to his parents if left unchecked. There was one choice, really. He had to take her with him.

"Come with me," Chris said to Cookie, "we have to warn my parents."

"But they are dead!" Cookie yelled, pointing again to her parents.

"Mine may not be," Chris said coldly, "and if you stay here, you may join your own."

Cookie began crying and carrying on again. Chris did not have the time or the patience to deal with a hysterical female. He walked over to her and slapped her in the face to get her to shut up.

"Listen to me," Chris said sharply, "I'm out of time. You can stay here and be a target or you can stay with me. I will not let him kill you, but I'm not going to stay here and let my own parents die. You can stay or go. Frankly Cookie, I don't give a shit either way anymore."

Cookie went numb at that. She did not know what to do anymore than Chris did. Chris took her hand and roughly pulled her along. She was so far gone that she followed along, despite not having a decent winter coat on. The two of them went out in the winter snow to make their way to the Healy house, in hopes of stopping Jerry's reign of terror now that it had begun.

Chris and Cookie continued heading for the Healy home as fast as they could. Cookie's lack of proper winter clothing and Chris's wound slowed them down considerably. They also had to stick to the back lots, as the amount of blood on their clothes would certainly have attracted attention.

"Move it, Cookie," Chris grunted, pulling the dazed young woman by the arm, "We've got to get to my parents before he does."

Cookie was beyond understanding by this point. She only knew that her life had changed forever. The cold was not helping with this either. Her body was beginning to get as numb as her mind. She was practically letting Chris drag her behind him, something that was difficult due to the knife wound.

Chris's wound stopped bleeding, but it still hurt whenever he tried to lean towards that side. When he yanked Cookie's arm along he also felt a sharp pain in that area. He knew he would have to have it treated eventually, but he had other things to deal with first.

The thirty minutes it took the two teenagers to make it from the Morris estate to the simple Healy home felt like an eternity. Chris saw his house with a new sense of dread. He did not know if Jerry made it ahead of him or not. He just knew he had to tell his parents what Jerry was doing.

Chris went to the front door and found it sitting wide open, a very ominous sign considering he knew he had closed it when he left on his initial hunt for his brother. Chris went into the house and looked around for a minute for any signs that his brother was still there.

"Stay put," Chris instructed Cookie as he looked for something to arm himself with, "Jerry is probably here."

"Then what the hell are we doing here?" Cookie asked him in horror.

"Trying to get help," Chris said, knowing instinctively that it was too late, "Now shut up and stay put!"

Chris rushed into the living room and found that his fears were justified. Joe Healy did not have to worry about his sons anymore. Jerry had killed his own father using the other baseball bat. Joe Healy was left splayed out on the couch his eyes wide open staring up at the ceiling.

Chris was in shock, but he knew he had to check on his mother. He rushed past Cookie, who was still standing in the hall and made tracks up the stairs to his parents' bedroom. Chris knew that Jerry could not have been here very long, so there was still a half a chance he could stop his mother's murder.

"Jerry!" Chris yelled, hoping to slow his brother down.

Chris rushed in to his parents' room just in time to see his grinning brother standing over his mother's broken body. Jerry's face had splotches of blood, none of it his own. Chris's own body had a lot of blood on it, most of it his own. Jerry stood up straight and looked at the bloody bat.

"Good choice back at Cookie's place," Jerry said, "the bat really does do a good job on a body. I should have brought one with me before this."

"What have you done, Jerry?" Chris asked him, "What the hell have you done?"

"Spared us about three more years of hell, I figure," Jerry shrugged, "you can't stop me now, you know that don't you?"

"I can kill you," Chris said, ice forming in his voice, "I can promise you that."

"You keep saying that," Jerry said, "I don't quite believe it yet."

"Believe this!" Chris yelled and just jumped over the edge of the bed.

Chris was beyond the edge of fury. He wanted to rip his brother's throat out with his bare hands. Jerry was prepared for the ill thought out attack and managed to push his brother off. Chris was not about to be denied his chance at his brother's throat, however. Chris took a knock to the right shoulder for the chance, only to be thrown back.

"Come on!" Jerry yelled, "Is that all you've got!"

Jerry circled around the bed and raised the bat. He knew that he needed to stop Chris and then he could continue unabated until the police wised up. Chris was slightly dazed by the last throw, but not that dazed. He managed to get out of the way of the blow and back up into the hall.

Jerry rushed into the hall and tried again to stop Chris with the bat. Chris avoided the blow and pushed Jerry into the wall. Cookie looked up the stairs and saw the fight going on. She ran over to the phone and called the police while Chris and Jerry continued their fight.

Detectives Rael Gabriel and Jim Calysto had just arrived at the Morris house when the call was put out about the Healy home when the call came in. They looked at each other and wondered just what was going on in this city.

"Dispatch says it's the Morris girl," Rael said, "You rolling or am I?"

"I'll do it," Calysto said, making a fateful decision for Chris's future, "It's your turn to play cleanup."

"By the book," Gabriel warned his partner, "I want a solid conviction on this one, Jim. This motherfucker is not going to get off on a technicality."

"You got it," Calysto lied as he started to head out.

"I mean it, Jim," Gabriel said as he grabbed his partner's shoulder, "don't fuck this one up. No black letter law. You touch this suspect the chief is going to have your balls."

"Yeah, yeah," Calysto said and walked out the door, "I won't screw this one up."

While Jim Calysto was on his way to the Healy house not to screw it up, Chris and Jerry were still fighting in the hallway of their house. Neither one was particularly proficient at the art of fighting so neither one did a hell of a lot of damage.

Cookie screamed as she watched the mortal battle. She prayed that Chris could win it, because she knew that she was going to die if he didn't. It was a relief when she heard the sirens of the approaching sirens.

"Hear that?" Chris asked his brother as he smashed him against the wall, "That's the sound of the end."

"The end for you, maybe?" Jerry said, "Like I said, I'm just warming up!"

Jerry punched his brother in the stomach and pushed him back towards the edge of the stairs. Chris tried to regain his balance, but a quick kick in the leg from his brother sent him teetering over the edge. Chris went tumbling down the stairs, landing flat on his back at the bottom. Jerry stood at the top, looking triumphant.

"No!" Cookie screamed and backed up away from the stairs as Jerry walked down, twirling the bat in hand.

Chris was still alive after all this, but he was no longer in any condition to fight. Jerry knew this and figured he could take his time with his brother. He casually walked down the stairs and looked at his brother's inert form. He considered killing his brother then and there, but decided he had a better idea.

"I need a distraction," Jerry said as he bent down and put the bat in his brother's hand, "the police will be here soon. You can explain this to them."

Cookie cowered in the living room and screamed when she saw the bloody corpse of Joe Healy lying on the couch. Jerry smiled and walked in to the living room, looking at Cookie. He knew he was pushing his luck and that he didn't have time to do Cookie correctly.

"We'll have to play later, doll," Jerry said with a smile, "I'm going to do you just like I did your parents."

Cookie couldn't take anymore. She fainted and landed roughly on the floor only a few feet away from Joe Healy's corpse. Jerry smiled and walked over to her inert body. He kneeled down and whispered in her ear.

"Count on it," he said as he saw lights of a police car turning into the driveway, "I've got to go for now."

Jerry Healy scooted out the back door and slipped away into the darkness as the police began to filter into the house. He had gotten away this time, and he knew how close it was. That did not matter to him, however. Life was nothing but a series of narrow escapes for him now and he still had work to do.
Chapter 19: December 3, 1985, 3:12am

The Red Herring...

Chris Healy pulled himself to his feet slowly and thought briefly about running after his brother, but knew he was not about to start running anywhere. He looked at the bat in his hand and knew that nothing would ever be the same again. He looked at Cookie's still form and took at least some comfort in the fact that she was still breathing.

Jim Calysto and a young uniformed officer he brought along to back him up charged in to the house, weapons drawn. They both saw Chris holding the bat and aimed their pistols at him.

"Drop it!" Calysto yelled at Chris, "Drop the bat or I drop you."

Chris looked at the police officer and sighed. He also dropped the bat rather quickly. Jim Calysto kept his weapon aimed at Chris while he had the young officer took the bat.

"Wrong guy, Detective," Chris said tiredly, "the real killer ran off already."

"You're the one holding the bloody bat," Calysto said icily, "lay down on the floor."

"You don't want to do this," Chris said, "I didn't do anything but try to stop him."

"Get down on the floor, kid," Calysto said through clenched teeth, "I'm not going to ask you again."

Chris didn't have any more fight in him. He let himself go back down on the floor to be handcuffed by the uniformed officer. He became rather detached from reality, unable to deal with it anymore. There was no resistance as Jim Calysto led him to the police car.

"This is 12-Adam-3," Calysto said into the radio, "we need more backup at this location. We have two bodies here."

"The girl is alive," the uniformed officer said, "she looks like she passed out from fear and cold."

"Have the medics look at her, then get her to the station," Calysto said as he sat down in the driver's seat, "I'll take this one down. We'll see what they have to say about this."

"Do you think he did it?" the officer asked Calysto.

"He had the bat," Calysto shrugged, "evidence usually doesn't get better than that."

"Right," the officer said and closed the door.

Jerry Healy watched Jim Calysto drive away with his brother in custody, grinning the entire time. He knew that his brother would be out of circulation for a while and hoped that placing the bat in his hand had the desired effect. He then walked through the back lots to a nearby house that he knew was owned by an old couple who wintered in Florida.

He opened the door with a quick kick that splintered the old lock. He felt no remorse for what he'd done, In fact he felt a sense of relief. He couldn't go back, he knew that. He had no choice but to move forward, but not immediately. He had plenty of scores to settle and figured that if he burned out too soon he wouldn't get to all of them.

Jerry went to the shower and stripped down, dropping his bloody clothes on the floor. He let the warm water flow over his body, taking off the blood and making himself look almost human again, though the illusion of humanity was destroyed when you looked at his eyes.

Stepping out of the shower he dried off with a towel and looked at his clothes. His sweatshirt was a near total loss, but his jacket cleaned off rather well with a rinse of water. Luckily the waterproofing didn't stain from the blood. He discarded the sweatshirt and jeans and found a pair in the old couple's closet that almost fit him. A belt provided the last piece of the puzzle.

Jerry then went over to a mirror and looked at himself. He thought he looked different than he did before and he liked what he saw. He did not see the cold-blooded murderer he had become. Jerry Healy saw what he thought was a man, and truth be told, the confidence Jerry had gained in committing his crimes did show in his eyes and on his face.

Jerry had not slept in nearly three days and the effects of it were beginning to wear on him. He knew he needed rest if he was going to continue. He looked around the house and figured that it was safe enough for at least a few hours rest. He knew that the red herring he laid with his brother would not last forever, but he hoped it would last long enough that he could sleep.

Jerry walked around the empty house for a few minutes and found the old couple's liquor cabinet, which he opened with another solid kick. Perusing the selection he found a bottle of Stolichnaya Vodka, the same thing he'd tried before and liked. He took a tumbler out of the cabinet and poured himself a healthy dose. He held the glass and raised it at an invisible representation of his brother.

"Here's to you," Jerry said out loud, "sucking my dick!"

He then drained the glass and laughed heartily at the old toast. He then went over to the couch and curled up. He was asleep in moments, a condition he would not leave for many hours.
Chapter 20: December 3, 1985, 9:13AM

Look at the Evidence...

The next hours were a blur for Chris Healy. The police did not know what to do with him, so they put him in an interrogation room with a one-way mirror. Chris tried a couple times to tell Detective Calysto about what his brother had done, but Calysto was not overly interested in listening to him. Finally, after being locked into the interrogation room, Chris curled up on the bench in a fetal position.

"Do you think he did it?" Rael Gabriel asked his partner, "He doesn't act like a killer."

"He had the murder weapon when I went in," Calysto reminded Gabriel, "the Morris girl was there with him and she didn't look like she went there willingly."

"The Morris girl also was the one who called us," Gabriel shot back, "I still think we're missing something here."

"Well," Calysto said, "we'll find out in a bit. I'll do the interrogation if you'll do the cleanup on site."

"I'll stick with you on this," Gabriel said, not wanting to leave it solely in his hotheaded partner's hands, "Good cop, bad cop."

"Not this time," Captain Gordon Six said as he walked up, "the mayor wants to be sure there are no screw-ups on the physical evidence this time. Rael, you're better at that end of the deal than Jim is."

"Captain," Jim said, trying to protest. He knew where this was going.

"Jim can handle the kid," Captain Six ordered, "Adam Morris was a personal friend of the Mayor. That crime scene is more important."

"Right," Gabriel said, not believing it for a minute, "I'm on it."

Rael Gabriel gave in to the inevitability and left the room. He knew why the captain wanted Calysto to do the interrogation. Calysto cared less for the facts than he did for convictions. He had a feeling that Chris Healy was going to be railroaded, even if he did not do it. Gabriel just hoped that he could find some evidence that would point to the true culprit before it blew up in their face.

When Gabriel was gone Gordon Six pulled Jim Calysto off to the side. Gabriel was not entirely wrong in guessing what Captain Six had in mind. Calysto went over and looked at the captain. Jim Calysto knew where his only chance at career advancement came from. He always was better at covering his own ass than doing his job. Captain Six knew this and made use of this fact, that's why he kept Calysto around.

"What's up, Cap?" Calysto asked him.

"You know how sensitive this is," Captain Six asked, "right Jim?"

"You know it," Calysto nodded, "what do you want me to do?"

"I don't care," he said, "just be sure not to leave any marks on them and read them their rights."

"Lawyer?" Calysto asked.

"Not unless he asks," Six said sternly, "and then you can discourage it. Don't record anything."

"Right," Calysto nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

"I know you will, Jim," Captain Six smiled, "you usually do. I may be moving up sometime soon. Do this right and you will no longer have to put up with Gabriel harassing you any longer. You will be able to harass him. Clear on that?"

"As a bell," Jim Calysto smiled, liking the sound of that.

"Good," Captain Six nodded, "and remember... If you fuck this up I will have your balls, Calysto."

"Right," Jim Calysto said, clearing his throat nervously, "I'm going to go get started."

"Don't let me stop you," Captain Six said and walked out of the room.

Jim Calysto waited a beat and let out a deep breath. He knew his career was riding on this case. Once he had prepared himself mentally he put on a stern face and walked into the room, slamming the door hard to jolt Chris Healy awake. The jolt worked and Chris sat bolt upright, his handcuffed hands going up to defend himself. Calysto had woken him from a nightmare about his brother.

"Feeling guilty?" Calysto asked him.

"I'm not the guilty one," Chris said, trembling a little because he was still cold, "I didn't kill anyone."

"You had the bat," Calysto reminded him, sitting down in a hard wooden chair and looking at Chris, "Your clothes are covered in blood."

"Most of it my own," Chris growled.

"That remains to be seen," Calysto said, "why did you kill them?"

"I didn't kill them," Chris said, "my brother did."

"Right," Calysto said, "why should I believe that?"

"Why would I do this?" Chris asked him, his voice cracking under the strain, "Why the fuck would I be sitting here?"

"Where is your brother?" Calysto asked him, trying to trip Chris up.

"If I knew that I'd tell you," Chris said honestly, "I certainly have no reason to protect him now."

"You don't like your brother, do you?" Calysto asked him.

"I don't tend to like people who try to kill me," Chris said, "do you?"

"Don't be flip with me, kid," Calysto growled, "You're in no position to be a smartass."

"Better to be a smartass than just an ass," Chris said, looking hard at Calysto, "I didn't kill anyone. I saved Cookie's life in there. All I'm asking is that you find my brother before he kills anyone else."

"Nobody else is going to get killed," Calysto said, showing his ignorance.

Chris was tired and sore, but his mind was working better than Calysto's. He knew he was in a battle of wits with an unarmed man. Despite his apparent lack of smarts, Calysto had the upper hand. He had slam-dunk evidence on Chris for murder, while Chris had no proof of his claims about Jerry whatsoever.

"If you really believe that," Chris said to Jim Calysto, "You're even dumber than you look."

"Keep talking kid," Calysto said, "you'll put yourself away for life."

"Listen to me," Chris said the despair evident in his voice, "Jerry is out there. He may be taking a break, but he's not going to stop. Not while Cookie is alive. Not while any of her friends are alive. Maybe not even while I'm alive at this point."

"You make him sound like a superman," Calysto said, "I think you're dreaming kid."

"Then wake me the fuck up!" Chris yelled, "Goddamn it! I'm not dreaming this. I'm not dreaming the bodies. If anything, it's a fucking nightmare! Maybe if I'm lucky I'll wake up from it someday."

"Calm down!" Calysto growled, "I'll decide what a dream here is."

"Bullshit," Chris said, and sat back down, "You'll just sit on your ass and make it worse."

"Shut up, kid," Calysto said, getting increasingly annoyed with him, "Why don't you just admit what you did and save all of us a lot of trouble."

"Fine," Chris said, deciding to try in hopes someone more intelligent was listening, "Last night I watched your people carry three bodies out of the King house. I knew that it couldn't be a coincidence, so I went home and looked through Jerry's room. I found his journal and it pretty well convinced me he was doing it."

"Yeah, right," Calysto said, "keep digging your hole."

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Chris asked him, knowing it was probably a waste of breath.

"Sure," Calysto shrugged, "I've got time for bullshit."

Chris struggled to keep his composure, and managed to do it. He knew he had to tell the story, even though Jim Calysto did not care and probably was not going to do anything about it.

"I figured that he'd go after Cookie next," Chris continued, "so I decided to go over there."

"With a baseball bat?" Calysto asked him, "We've got several reports of you making that walk over there."

"Yes," Chris said, "I wasn't about to try to talk to my brother unarmed. He's killing people, remember?"

"Sure," Calysto said, pretending to stifle a yawn, "Go ahead."

"I found him there," Chris said through gritted teeth, "he was carving on Adam Morris at the time."

"Right," Calysto said, not believing a word, "Go on."

"We fought," Chris said, "I lost."

"I see," Calysto said, even though he did not have a clue.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Chris asked him.

"Not really," Calysto said, "I think you're lying, Healy. I think you did your parents and were just trying to use the other murders as cover. Either that or they found out you were killing others. I think we'll find your brother's corpse somewhere in the next few days."

"Then you really are a dense motherfucker," Chris said, standing straight up.

"Watch that mouth!" Calysto warned.

"Fuck you!" Chris yelled, "I have nothing to lose! My family is toast! My brother is killing people and you aren't fucking listening to me!"

Jim Calysto reared up and smacked Chris Healy in the mouth. Chris crumpled up and looked up at the cop with hate in his eyes. He did not move, did not flinch. He had been through too much for that. He also did not want to provoke Calysto into doing something stupid either.

"I'm through listening to your bullshit!" Calysto yelled, "Now when you want to start telling me the truth we can talk again. For now, you can just sit here until we figure out what to charge you with!"

Calysto stormed out of the room and left Chris sitting there on the floor. Chris knew that he was in a bad spot, especially if the rest of the police department felt like he did. He curled up on the bench again and tried to put the thoughts out of his mind.

Jim Calysto was shaking with rage as he paced up and down the hallway. He had not hit a suspect in a long time, but that kid had managed to push every button he had. Captain Six walked down the hall and saw him there.

"How did it go?" he asked Calysto.

"I haven't gotten the confession yet," Calysto said, "but I will. He gave me some bullshit story about his brother."

"The one they haven't found yet?" Captain Six asked.

"I'm betting they'll find him soon," Calysto said, "I think this one did it all."

"Keep at it," Gordon Six nodded, "keep me posted."

"I'll get it," Jim Calysto promised, "just keep Rael off my back for a while."

"No problem," Captain Six smiled, "just remember, your career rides on this one."

"I know," Calysto said, "I know it well."

"Good," Captain Six nodded and continued down the hall, leaving Jim Calysto there to contemplate the future.

While Calysto continued to alternate between badgering Chris and trying to get information out of Cookie, Rael Gabriel was walking through the Healy house, looking at what remained of what had once been a family home.

"Jesus Christ," Rael said absently as he looked around, "this is insane. We've had more murders in the last three days than this city usually gets in a year."

"Well," Officer Murphy said as he tried to avoid looking at the blood, "hopefully it's over now. Jim and I arrested the kid with a bloody bat in his hands."

"I heard," Rael said, "but something still smells rotten."

"How can a kid kill his own parents?" Murphy asked, "It isn't natural."

"It's been done before," Gabriel shrugged, "a young girl down in Philly shot her parents and her baby brother last year."

"I heard about that one," Murphy said, "wasn't there some bad circumstances on that one?"

"Yeah," Rael said as he kneeled down to look at the bloodstains on the floor by the edge of the stairs, "son of a bitch father had beaten the shit out of her and raped her. Girl did the world a favor."

"I remember that one," Murphy said, "beat her with an electrical cord, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Rael nodded and then followed the blood path up the stairs, "girl's name was Baltimore I think. Elizabeth Baltimore. I think they put her in a hospital somewhere."

Rael looked upstairs at the destruction that had happened. There had been a major fight in this room, but what he didn't get was who was fighting whom. Joe Healy and Juliana Healy never got up. Their wounds were consistent only with being murdered while sleeping.

"What are you looking at, Rael?" Murphy asked as he went up the stairs.

"You want to go for Detective this year, right?" Gabriel asked the uniformed officer.

"Hoping to," the younger officer nodded, "why?"

"Look around here," Rael said, "what do you see?"

"A crime scene," Murphy shrugged, "a body and a lot of blood."

"Look beyond that," Rael Gabriel instructed, "what else happened here?"

Murphy looked at the room and started to see what Rael was talking about. There had been a serious fight in this room, a knock down drag out fight. He looked at Gabriel and wondered what he was missing.

"There was a fight here, right?" Murphy asked him, "But who was fighting?"

"Sure wasn't Joe Healy," Rael said, nodding approval, "He was killed quickly, probably didn't even wake up."

"No way she could have put up this much fight either," Murphy said, seeing what Rael was seeing, "You think the kid may be innocent?"

"I don't know yet," Rael admitted, "Captain Six pushed me out of the interrogation."

"Why?" Murphy asked, "You're better at it than Jim is."

"I care more about getting the right killer than Jim does," Rael shrugged, "I think Gordon Six is trying another one of his political moves."

"Great," Murphy said, "so what do we do?"

"Document everything," Gabriel said, "start downstairs. Anything that looks strange."

"Got it," Murphy said.

Rael watched the younger officer go off. He knew that Murphy would make it someday and be a better detective than Jim Calysto ever thought of being. He just hoped that whatever the Captain had in mind for Calysto would not screw things up too badly. He did not want to have to be the one to clean up the mess.
Chapter 21: December 3, 1985, 2:33pm

Shock Treatment

Cookie Morris finally started coming out of her shock after her second conversation with Jim Calysto. His arrogance and stupidity pissed her off. He spent nearly an hour badgering her to implicate Chris Healy, despite the fact that she had told him the opposite repeatedly. She looked around the dark interrogation room and wondered what she could do to make them listen.

"This is insane," she sighed.

She knew that she wanted to see Chris Healy again. She had more questions than answers at this point, but even in her state she could tell that she was not going to get the answers she wanted sitting in an interrogation room. She was thinking about the best way to get out when a female officer came in with a bag from the convenience store across the street.

"I figured you would be hungry," she said with a smile, "so I brought over some food. It isn't much, but it may cure that rumbling in your stomach."

"I'm not sure I can eat much," Cookie said, "it's been a long day."

"I understand," she said, "is there anything else you need?"

"Yeah," Cookie nodded, her mind going into high gear, "Can you leave the door open? It's hot in here."

"Sure," she said, knowing she had not been charged with anything, "I can do that."

"Thanks," Cookie said as she halfheartedly nibbled on the hotdog the female officer brought in, "thanks for the food too."

"No problem," the young policewoman said, "your uncle has been called. He should be here in an hour or so."

"Great," Cookie said, frowning, "I'll be looking for him."

"All right," the female officer nodded and slipped out the door, "yell if you need anything".

Cookie nodded and downed the rest of the hotdog. She decided to stand up and when she did so felt rather woozy. She felt weak still, but her need to find out the truth was outweighing her desire to freak out completely. She went over to the door and looked outside. The entire station was in a tizzy with people running all over the place. Nobody seemed to notice her looking out the door.

"Good," Cookie thought to herself, "maybe they won't notice if I walk around."

Cookie was about to walk out the door when she thought better of it. She went back to the table and picked up the bag of food, figuring that Chris was probably in worse shape than she was. She doubted Jim Calysto was going to let anyone be as solicitous to him. It sounded to her like they thought he was the one to blame for this.

She walked out slowly and looked around. She figured that they would not put Chris in the detention cells, so she looked at the other rooms with windows. Sure enough, she saw him sitting at a table with his hands cuffed. He looked tired and battered and just about completely defeated.

Cookie looked to make sure that Jim Calysto was nowhere nearby and went over to the room. It being an interrogation room, the lock was on the outside. She unlatched the door and went into the room, sitting down in the seat that Calysto had left unattended in front of Chris. Chris did not look up. He was sitting there leaving his head in his still cuffed hands.

"What do you want now, Calysto?" Chris asked without looking up, "I'm not going to change my story even if you keep badgering me."

"I guess that answers my question," Cookie sighed, "he isn't listening to you either, I guess."

"Cookie?" Chris asked, sitting up a little, "What are you doing here?"

"I want to know why," Cookie sighed and slumped in the chair a little.

"I'd like to know why too," Chris said, "I don't know. I really don't."

"Not that," Cookie said softly.

"What?" Chris asked.

"Why did you stop him?" she asked him, looking closer at his face.

Cookie had been doing a lot of thinking in the past hours. Chris did not have to do what he did. She had been nothing but mean to him over the years, but he took a frightful beating in order to save her life. She wanted to know why.

"Don't kid yourself," Chris said, almost scowling when he did so, "I didn't do it for you."

"Why?" Cookie pressed.

"Because I couldn't watch him do it," Chris said, "it looks like I may not have a choice anymore. I'm stuck here and he's out there. You saw him, Cookie. He's not going to stop until someone stops him."

"Why did he come after me?" Cookie asked.

"Do you really need to ask me that?" Chris asked her, "You and your friends did nothing but torment him. Well, it's payback time Cookie. Jerry has lost what little sanity he had in the first place."

"You sound like you agree with him," Cookie said.

"No," Chris sighed, "I don't agree with him. I understand why he's going after the people he is, but I don't agree with him."

"I want him dead," Cookie said, "I don't want to sit here and feel like a target."

"As long as Calysto is handling this Jerry is going to get away with it," Chris said, "that jackass seems bound and determined to blame me for the killings."

"Can you stop your brother?" Cookie asked him.

"Maybe," Chris said, "I don't know. I can't do a goddamned thing from here with Calysto badgering me every hour or so."

"Here," Cookie said and put the bag on the table, "Have something to eat. I'm going to go look around and see what I can find out."

Chris opened the bag and wolfed down one of the candy bars while Cookie went out into the squad room. She was not gone long enough to finish anymore than that, however. She walked in and sat back down, looking at him with a determined expression.

"Your brother has ruined my life," Cookie said, "you're the only way I've got to get back at him. Will you help me?"

"Big words," Chris said, his voice sounding dead, "You have nothing to back them up with. I'm under arrest and you don't know shit about my brother."

"If I can get you out of here," Cookie asked him, "will you help me find him?"

"Good luck," Chris said, "Calysto won't listen to you either. He wants this to go away. If he listens to you, he has to admit he still has a killer out there."

"Who needs Calysto?" Cookie smiled and held out a set of handcuff keys, "I just snagged these out of a coat pocket."

"You know they'll come after us," Chris warned her, "they already think we did it. This may confirm it for them."

"Not if we can stop him first," Cookie said, "I want my shot at your brother."

"You realize that if we do this he may kill us both," Chris warned her, "he has nothing to lose now."

"Neither do we," Cookie reminded him, "are you in?"

"Yes," Chris growled, "give me the fucking keys already."

Cookie smiled, a cold and empty smile, and dropped the keys into Chris Healy's hand. He had himself out of the cuffs in seconds and stood up for the first time in hours. He did not know how he felt about this, but he knew that he was not going to sit still for Calysto anymore.

"All right," Chris said, "Can you go out and find me a jacket and something to cover up the top part of my pants? "

Cookie took a good look at him and realized that he was mostly covered with blood still. She had some on her, but not nearly as much as Chris did. She retrieved an unused jacket from a desk nearby and made off with it before anyone noticed her. She brought it in and handed it to Chris.

"That should be long enough to cover up the worst of it," Cookie said.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "hope that nobody looks too close."

Cookie nodded and looked over Chris to make sure that no one would stare too much too much. She adjusted the bottom of the jacket and gave him a thumb's up. They walked out of the room and tried to look like they were out for a stroll. Chris knew it was going to be cold out there, so he took a quick detour by another desk with a jacket.

"Grab it," Chris said, "you'll need it out there."

Cookie nodded and grabbed it and put it on, looking around to make sure nobody was actually watching them.

"Let's get out of here," Cookie said, "we have a score to settle."

"Yeah," Chris nodded.

The two of them slipped out of the police station easily. Nobody took any notice as they detoured through the parking lot and into the woods next to the station. It was a small patch of trees, really, but enough to get them away and have a few blocks of freedom before having to go back on the streets again.

"So what's the next step?" Cookie asked him, now that they were free.

"We have to figure out what Jerry's doing," Chris said, "I also need to warn the others."

"Others?" Cookie asked him.

"Carrie, Tommy and Jason," Chris said, "we're going to need their help too."

"Why?" Cookie asked him, "Isn't it too dangerous?"

"Jerry won't leave them alone," Chris said, "they know too much about him. Not to mention, it's a sure way to get at me."

"You and Carrie have been steady, right?" Cookie asked him.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "I need to see her. I don't know where Jerry is now. But maybe between all of us we can figure it out."

"I'll follow you," Cookie nodded, "I'm in it as far as you are now. It's your show."

"Remember that," Chris said harshly as they began to walk again.

Chris used some snow to wash up a little more and put a large hunk of it in his jacket on the wound, which still was hurting badly. Calysto had never admitted the wound existed, so it had yet to be treated.

"They didn't treat that wound?" Cookie asked him.

"Nope," Chris said, "Calysto would have had to listen to me for that."

"Great," Cookie said, "Calysto really is a son of a bitch, isn't he?"

"There are a lot of them in this world," Chris growled, "but he's fairly high on my personal list of assholes now."

"So who do we go see first?" Cookie asked.

"Jason's place is on the way to Tom and Carrie's," Chris said, "we'll pick him up on the way and make a speed run to Carrie."

"You want to see her badly," Cookie said.

"She's probably worried out of her mind," Chris said, "not to mention, her mother is the drug store queen. If anyone can patch me up on the sly, it's her."

"Gotcha," Cookie nodded, "let's go."

They walked out of the woods and back towards the front lines, hopefully to get some reinforcements along the way. There was no turning back for them now and they both knew it. That was all right with them, however. Neither one felt like they had anything to lose.
Chapter 22: December 3, 1985, 4:00pm

Young Guns

Chris and Cookie made it to Jason's house quickly. Nobody took much notice of them, as the schools were still closed due to the spate of murders that had been occurring. The school board had decided that absenteeism would be so high that it would not be worth the trouble to open for the rest of the week.

"How do we get him?" Cookie asked, "His parents may be home."

"Same way I usually do," Chris said and picked up a handful of snow and threw it at the window, "improvise."

It did not take long for Jason to come to the window and see who was out there. His eyes went wide when he saw Chris and Cookie. He waved them over to the front door and headed over there like a shot. They went over to the front and watched Jason bust out the front door.

"Ok," Jason said, "you have some explaining to do, Chris."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "have you talked to Carrie or Tommy today?"

"Carrie is going out of her mind, guy," Jason said, "who's your friend here?"

Cookie pulled down the collar and nodded at Jason. She wasn't in the mood to talk very much. It took Jason a moment to place Cookie, mainly because she looked so out of place standing on his front steps with one of his best friends.

"Cookie Morris?" Jason asked, his eyes going wide, "Ok, Chris. You have some serious explaining to do."

"Can we do it inside?" Chris asked him, "It's cold out here."

"Yeah sure," Jason nodded, "come on in. You need anything?"

"Got any pain pills and some food?" Chris asked him, "I was stabbed and fell down a flight of stairs last night. I hurt like hell."

"Dad had some Darvon from when he fucked up his back," Jason said, "Want em?"

"Yeah," Chris said, sitting down, "Preferably with a vodka chaser."

"I don't have that," Jason chuckled as he went off to get the Darvon.

Chris sat down and rubbed his throbbing temples. Every part of his body hurt, but he had no time to sit down and rest for very long. He knew that if he let himself rest too long he would not be able get up again. Cookie decided to stay standing for much the same reasons.

"It was Jerry, wasn't it?" Jason asked Chris when he walked back into the room, tossing a bottle of pills and a coke to him, "He's gone off the edge, hasn't he?"

"Mmmhumm," Chris mumbled as he used the cola to force down three pills, "my brother has lost it, bad. He's also winning right now."

"You need more than old pain pills," Jason told him and went to his Father's room.

Chris watched as Jason came back and handed him an old .38 Special that his father had kept for years. Chris looked at the weapon and sighed a little. He knew enough about guns to check if it was loaded and where the safety was.

"Dad will assume he lost it while drunk," Jason told him, "it isn't registered, so he won't go to the cops about it. If Jerry has gone as far off the deep end as you say, you may need it."

"I'll take whatever help I can get at this point," Chris agreed and put the safety on before putting it in his pocket, "Jerry is completely insane."

Jason nodded and shook his head sadly. He looked around the dirty mess of a house that he lived in and sighed a little.

"Food is going to have to wait," Jason said, "only stuff in the kitchen is rotting."

"Figures," Chris nodded, "all right. Maybe Carrie will be able to get some food."

"Yeah," Jason nodded, "if the cops have released your escape to the press she's probably going nuts too."

"Yeah," Chris agreed, "I figured that. I've screwed this all up."

"You did pretty well," Cookie said, "Calysto is the one that's screwed it all up."

"Calysto?" Jason asked, "That idiot cop that's been on TV?"

"Proclaiming he'd solved the murders, right?" Chris asked as his hatred for Calysto plainly evident.

"Something like that," Jason nodded.

"I've got to go see Carrie," Chris said, "let her know the whole story."

"Let's go," Jason said.

"You don't have to get involved with this," Chris told him, "Jerry is my problem now. You could get arrested for helping me now. I don't want to put you at any further risk."

"Screw that," Jason said, "if it were my brother, you'd be there. You've been there for me all along, sticking by me through things that others wouldn't. I'll stick with you until the end."

"You realize," Chris said seriously, "that the end may come from killing Jerry. Are you prepared for that?"

"Jerry's already dead, Chris," Jason said, telling Chris something he already knew, "His body just doesn't know it yet. That's why I gave you the gun. Hopefully you can stop him before he hurts anyone else."

"That won't take long if I have anything to say about it," Cookie said, the hatred burning deep in her eyes.

Jason looked at her for a second and nodded solemnly. He knew it was not going to be an easy trip, but he was not going to abandon Chris. Not when he needed friends most. He handed Chris and Cookie each a pair of gloves and a hat from the closet and finally grabbed his own winter clothes.

"Let me call Mike," Jason said, "he'll want in on this too."

"Maybe that's not such a good idea," Chris said, "there's a chance you'll both end up in Juvenile for helping me."

"Fuck it," Jason shrugged, "it'll be worth it. He agrees. He told me to call him if you showed up."

Jason picked up the phone and gave some quick instructions to Mike Sanders on the other side. It sounded like neither one said all that much, but Jason smiled when he put the phone down.

"What?" Chris asked him.

"He'll meet us at the cave in an hour or so," Jason said, "we worked out the message earlier, just in case."

"All right," Cookie said, "that's touching. Can we get moving now before that lunatic brother of his kills someone else?"

"What do you know about him?" Jason asked her, defending Jerry without thinking.

"I know he murdered my parents and tried to kill me!" Cookie said, "That's all I need to know!"

"Easy," Chris said to Cookie, "remember why you are a target and calm down. Let's go see Carrie and Tommy. We'll figure out the next step after that."

"Let's go," Jason said, "my dad will be home anytime and I don't want to see him right now."

"Right," Chris said, "let's go, Cookie."

Cookie was still reeling a bit by events. She was not used to their frank declarations and brutal honesty. The group of kids she had always hung around with would not have dared to dress her down like Jason and Chris did. The fact that Jason and Chris thought little about it showed her the difference.

The three of them hiked through the side streets and back paths to try to avoid being seen. Chris knew it would not be long before Jim Calysto put out an all points bulletin out on him. He had a score to settle before he went back to jail. After that score was settled, he figured that the cops could do whatever they wanted to him. He had nothing left to lose.
Chapter 23: December 3, 1985, 4:20pm

Oblivious to Oblivion

While Chris, Cookie and Jason were hiking towards the Caron house, Mike Sanders had slipped out of his own house. Mike lived further away from the Cave than Jason did, so he took a few shortcuts along the way. Simple fate made his shortcut pass by the spot where Jerry Healy was watching the police show up to the scene of his latest work of art.

Jerry Healy was not oblivious to Jason's new friend. He did not know quite how close they had become, but he had spent some of his time before he started his spree watching his brother and his former friends. He had hoped to recruit some of the others, but Chris's reaction had cured him of that hope.

Jerry knew now that it was just a matter of time before Chris managed to get the others allied against him. He had no illusions anymore about anyone being on his side. Seeing Mike walking alone through the back woods gave Jerry an idea on a way to teach his brother a lesson.

"Let's have some fun," Jerry thought to himself and started making his way through the woods, "are you ready to play, Mikey?"

Mike Sanders was oblivious to Jerry's presence as he continued walking. He did not even know why Jason was so worried. Ignorance may be bliss for some, but what he did not know was going to kill him. Jerry decided on a frontal approach when they were far enough into the wooded area.

"Who's out there?" Mike shouted.

Jerry decided to press his luck. Holding the knife behind his back, he walked up to Mike with a confident and friendly smile on his face. Becoming a murderer had done one positive thing for Jerry. It had given him a massive dose of confidence in himself, an almost insane amount of confidence in fact.

"Just me," Jerry said, "Just your friendly local boogeyman."

"Jerry Healy?" Mike asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"Just watching the goings on up there," Jerry said honestly, "wondering when my brother was going to show up."

"Your brother was arrested," Mike said, "didn't you know that?"

"He's out now," Jerry said, having actually caught the news a while earlier, "Have you seen him?"

"Not yet," Mike said, suddenly nervous, "Where have you been?"

"Around," Jerry said with a wide smile, "doing a little bit of work here and there."

"Right," Mike said, "what do you have behind your back?"

"Behind my back?" Jerry said and looked up playfully, "You mean this?"

Jerry pulled out the knife, still dripping with the blood from his earlier kill. Mike gasped and started to run. Jerry was in better shape, however, and his adrenal glands were pumping out the adrenalin in overtime. It took little more than a second for Jerry to knock Mike down on the ground and get on top of him.

"No!" Mike yelled, "Why are you doing this?"

"Practice," Jerry said coldly as he raised the knife.
Chapter 24: December 3, 1985, 4:55pm

Regrouping

They arrived finally at the Caron house and walked around the outside. They didn't even have to throw a snowball at the window, because Carrie was sitting at one looking out when she saw them approach. She was up and out of her seat like a shot, grabbing her coat and rushing outside.

"You scared the piss out of me!" Carrie almost yelled at him when she got close to him, "Your picture is all over the goddamned television! They're saying that you are the killer."

"Do you believe that?" Chris asked her, looking her straight in the eyes.

"No," Carrie said, seeing the hurt look in his eyes, "Of course I don't. It was Jerry, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Chris admitted, "he's gone over the edge."

"You mean off the fucking deep end," Tommy said when he got out there, "he really killed all these people?"

"I don't care right now," Carrie said and hugged Chris tightly, sending him reeling back in pain, "What?"

"I hurt right now, babe," Chris said, "in the last 24 hours I've been beaten and stabbed. I hurt like hell."

"Wait a minute," Carrie said, surprised, "Stabbed?"

Chris opened the jacket a bit and showed them the bloody area on his right side. Carrie gasped and looked at him as if he was insane. Even Cookie, who had been there when he was originally injured, was surprised at how bad it was looking. Carrie, far from being repulsed, went in and started poking at it.

"Jesus," Carrie said, "if you don't get that taken care of soon Jerry isn't going to have a chance to kill you."

"I know," Chris nodded, wincing at her probing fingers, "Do you have what you need to treat it?"

"Yeah," Carrie nodded, "but not here. Mom and Dad will be home soon."

"The cave?" Jason asked, "Nobody knows to look for us there."

"I'll be all right," Chris said, "I have..."

"You aren't going to do anything until I clean that!" Carrie told him harshly, "You can tell us what happened while I'm working on it."

That is exactly what they did over the next hour and a half. Chris told them what had transpired with his brother in between the shots of pain that came about while she cleaned the wound and washed it out alternately with iodine and alcohol to ensure that the infection would go away. Some penicillin that had been prescribed for Tommy a couple months before completed the treatment.

"So Calysto thinks that you are the killer?" Jason asked, "Why? It just doesn't make any sense."

"Why shouldn't he?" Cookie asked him, "Chris had me, connecting him to my parent's deaths. He herded me a half mile through the streets to his house, which I'm sure Calysto has several witnesses to. Then he found Chris holding the murder weapon. What else is he supposed to think?"

"Chris wouldn't do anything like that!" Carrie protested, "And who the hell are you to judge anyway?"

"Chill, hon," Chris said quietly, "Cookie is right. Calysto may be a narrow minded moron, but he has every reason to think I'm it. My word doesn't mean spit compared to the evidence he has."

"So what do we do?" Tommy asked them.

Chris was thinking about that. He needed to see them, but he was having second thoughts about involving them in the search for his brother. If the police found out that they had helped him this much they could get a year in juvenile. Much as he did not want to leave them, he knew that he could not screw up their lives as much as his was.

"You guys go home," Chris said, "Cookie and I will go after him. I don't want to be responsible if you get in his path."

"Bullshit," Jason said, "I'm not going to pussy out on you."

"Me either," Tommy said, "you're hurt and you're alone. You think we're going to leave this to just you and Cookie?"

"I'm not abandoning you," Carrie told him.

"It's different now," Chris told them, hoping to talk some sense into them, "I don't have anything left to lose, guys. The only shot I have left is to take Jerry down. But not at the cost of what it could do to you. Cookie has her reasons for being here, and I need her for bait, but I can't justify putting you three in any more danger or of putting you any further on the other side of the law than you are now."

"This is bullshit, Chris," Jason said, "we've known Jerry longer than anyone other than you. You're going to need us."

"Jason is right," Tommy said, "you wouldn't run on us, even if we told you too."

"I happen to be in love with you," Carrie smiled, "you're overruled. Stand or fall, we do it together."

"How touching," Cookie added acidly, "I think I'm going to vomit."

"So what's your story?" Carrie asked her, "Why did you come along with him?"

"I lost everything last night," Cookie said, the pain evident in her eyes, "He is the only hope I have of seeing the bastard who did it pay. The cops aren't going to be able to do it."

Chris looked at them and sighed. He should have known that that was going to be their answer. He was rather relieved, actually. He knew that the others were the only advantage he had against Jerry. One on one, he doubted he could take his brother. With the others behind him, he felt like he had a chance.

"You're all crazy," Chris said, smiling a little, "But thanks."

Carrie took his hand and held it tight. Tommy put his hand on top of that with Jason following suit. Cookie was not as much in for team spirit. She cared not a damn about the others. She just wanted Jerry Healy to die. She was willing to pay any price for that.

"So what's the next move?" Tommy asked.

"I don't know for sure," Chris admitted, "I've been rather stumped on that. I don't know where he's going to hit next. Cookie, who else was there that day?"

"Jesse Allen," Cookie said, "Christopher Franklin, A few of the others. I'm not sure who now. It was a while ago."

"Too late on Chris Franklin," Carrie said sadly, "They found him an hour ago."

"Shit," Chris cursed, "if I'd stayed in custody they'd be looking for him now."

"If you'd stayed in you would still be on the sidelines," Jason said, "you know damn well that if Jerry doesn't want to be found, the cops won't be able to find him. He knows this town better than anyone on the police force could."

"We're the only ones who have a shot," Tommy agreed, "the four of us."

"Five," Cookie said, "I'm a part of this."

"You don't know him," Chris said, "you never will."

"That's not why I'm here," Cookie said, "just so long as I get my shot at him."

"You will," Chris said and stood up, "we all will. Let's just hope we can stop him soon."

"We can't go yet," Jason said.

"Why not?" Chris asked.

"Mike hasn't shown up yet," Jason reminded him, "I'm not leaving without Mike."

"Oh shit," Tommy said, "where does he live, anyway?"

"Central," Jason said and then realized, "he should have been here long ago. I called him nearly two and a half hours ago."

"Fuck!" Chris exclaimed, "Do you know the route he takes to get here?"

"Yeah," Jason said, "he usually cuts through the fields up by the old Janzen place."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Carrie said.

"You don't think Jerry..." Tommy said and thought better of it, "Of course he would."

"How would he know about Mike?" Jason asked, "As far as I know Jerry never saw us together."

"You haven't hidden it very well with us," Tommy reminded him, "Jerry has been around, he probably knows."

"Who's Mike?" Cookie asked, not knowing about Mike and Jason.

"Mike Sanders," Chris said, "Jason's friend."

"That little homo..." Cookie said and saw four pairs of eyes drill into her, "What?"

"That little 'homo'," Jason seethed, "happens to be my boyfriend. I'm gay too. If you don't like it, Cookie, you can go fuck yourself."

"You're..." Cookie was almost floored, "You're kidding, right? Nobody actually..."

"The world works in strange ways, Cookie," Chris said, "you're in another world now. Remember that, will you?"

Cookie was not sure what to make of these people. They were so completely unlike the people she had always been around before. They were not willing to give her any points just because of who she was. It was another slap in the face for her after all that happened.

"What happens if he shows up here after we leave?" Tommy asked.

"Leave a message in charcoal," Chris suggested, "If we don't find him, we'll come back."

"Good idea," Tommy said, "Should we bring any weapons with us?"

"Not me," Carrie said, "I'd just get myself hurt."

"Take a bar or something to defend yourselves," Chris instructed them, "if anyone has to fight him, it will be me."

"You're not in shape for it," Carrie protested, "you're still hurt."

"I've got the least to lose," Chris said, "besides you guys can stop him while I'm tangled up with him."

"If shooting him doesn't work," Jason suggested, "then I think we all should run like hell, ok?"

"Amen to that," Tommy nodded, "let's get moving. It's starting to get late."
Chapter 25: December 3, 1985, 8:25pm

Guts

They exited the cave and started following the usual route that Mike took to get to the cave. Jason took the lead and they went up to the old Janzen place, taking the route they had taken the last time they had gone to Mike's place together.

Chris and Carrie walked together hand in hand at the back, with Chris partially keeping an eye on Cookie, who he did not particularly trust yet. Tommy kept an eye on Jason, who was frantic out of his head with worry.

"Relax, buddy," Tommy said as they walked, "he's probably still at home. Most likely his parents wouldn't let him out."

"No," Jason said, "his parents don't give a shit about him. They wouldn't have stopped him."

Chris knew in his gut this was going to end up badly. He knew his brother better than anyone and Mike was a target that would have been too attractive to him. It was a way to burn more bridges, and if there was anything Jerry was doing well at, it was burning his bridges

They made it to the edge of the wooded area, a half mile square with trees thick enough to be called woods, but thin enough to walk through easily. Chris knew that it was probably going to be where they found Mike, if his gut instincts were right. He did not know which part scared him more, the fact that he was beginning to understand how Jerry thought or the fact that he was turning out to be right more than he was wrong.

"Does he usually come through here?" Chris asked Jason as they looked into the dark wooded patch.

"Yeah," Jason nodded, "usually. He loves going through these woods. It's peaceful."

"Ok," Chris said, drawing his weapon, "You and Tommy take the left side of the path, Carrie, Cookie and I take the right. If you see Jerry, get out of the way. I'm going to shoot him."

"Why do you get both the girls?" Tommy asked.

"He has the gun," Cookie said, "I'm sticking with him."

"Besides," Carrie said, still not liking the gun, "someone has to watch his ass and make sure he doesn't shoot himself in the foot with the damned thing."

They took out their flashlights and began their searches. Tommy and Jason were scouring their side of the path, moving at a much faster clip than Chris and the girls were able to. Chris's wound still slowed him down. Carrie watched her man more than she did the woods.

"This is a side of you I've never seen before," Carrie said as they walked, "I'm not sure I like it."

"I'm not sure I do either," Chris said, "but I have no choice right now. Who else can stop him?"

"If you don't have the guts," Cookie said, "give me the gun. I'll shoot him."

"I don't think so," Carrie said, looking at Cookie harshly, "I don't think you have it in you."

"I'm not sure I have it in me either," Chris sighed, "I'm walking through the woods jumping at shadows and thinking about shooting my brother."

"Are you sure there is no reasoning with him?" Carrie asked, not having seen what Chris or Cookie saw.

"Jerry is insane," Chris said, "actually, he's quite a bit beyond that."

"He murdered my parents with a look of joy in his eyes," Cookie said, the memories flooding back, "Chris tried to talk to him then."

"Jerry's response was to slit her father's throat," Chris sighed.

Chris did not care at that point whether it was at the cost of his life, mainly because he felt as if he did not have much of one left. He wanted to make Jerry pay for what he had taken. The fact that Jerry was his brother was well beside the point. Chris wanted him to pay for his actions and wanted to make sure he burned in hell.

Chris was doubtful that he could have been satisfied even with having James Calysto arrest Jerry and have him put away for life. Chris wanted Jerry dead, just as Cookie did. Carrie was able to see that on both of their faces, and it was something that she could not understand yet.

"If you act like that," Carrie said, "you run the risk of becoming just like him."

"I don't know about that," Chris said, "he still thinks it's a game."

"Well, if he thinks it's a game," Cookie said, ice in her voice, "he's going to find out differently."

"He's going to have to play by the rules he made," Chris nodded, "and that means that turnabout is fair play. So when it comes down to it, if I find him, I'm going to shoot and shoot to kill. I don't have a choice anymore."

Carrie sighed and looked at him. She was still not quite sure what to believe or not believe. She was standing by Chris Healy because she believed in him. She also knew Jerry well enough that she had little trouble believing that he was a killer. She was just worried about keeping Chris sane so he got out of this intact.

Jason and Tommy were going faster down the path. Jason was going half-mad, looking for any sign of Mike, having the same sense of dread that Chris was. Tommy picked up a stick and kept behind Jason as best he could. But there was no keeping up with Jason Brigand.

Being the furthest up ahead, Jason was the one who saw it first. It being dark in the woods, it was hard to see, but Jason had no trouble at all filling in the blanks. It was a rather surrealistic sight, really. Mike Sanders' body was hanging in a tree, just a few feet off the path. His arms were outstretched, similar to a Christ on the cross pose.

"Oh shit," Tommy said, and then shouted as he saw Jason begin to run, "Jason!"

Chris, Carrie and Cookie perked up at Tommy's yell. They began running towards them, Chris with his weapon outstretched. They all knew they were not going to like what they found. They ran as fast as they could, to find Jason standing in front of the display.

"Good god," Tommy said to Chris as he approached, "your brother is insane."

"I don't think God had anything to do with it," Cookie said as she looked on.

"How could he..." Carrie whimpered to Chris, who continued to hold her hand.

"Jerry isn't my brother anymore," Chris told her, "now do you see why I have to stop him? Whoever that is wearing my brother's skin, he can't be allowed to live. But to stop him I have to become like him, or else he will kill us all."

"You'll never be like him Chris," she reminded him, "I know you better than you know yourself, remember? You could never be like him."

Carrie put her hand on his chest, right over the heart, looking into his eyes with a deep sort of determination that he had never seen before. She knew now what was driving Chris Healy, more than she ever could have before. She had not directly seen any of Jerry's handiwork until now. She continued to look in his eyes continued talking.

"We have to stop him," She told him, "We, Chris. Not you. You will never be like him. You may have to figure out how he thinks, but I'll be here to bring you back. You're not in this alone."

"Besides," Tommy added as he watched, "the fact that you are worried about becoming like him means that you won't."

"Thank you," Chris said, nodding at Tommy and kissing Carrie softly on the temple, "Let me talk to Jason a bit, ok? We'll figure out what to do next after I calm him down."

Carrie nodded and tapped Cookie on the shoulder. Cookie followed Carrie back, not wanting to look at another body. Tommy was not sure what to do, but when Chris looked straight at him he realized that Chris needed to talk to Jason alone. He walked over to Carrie and Cookie and saw blue lights flashing off in the distance.

"I'm going to go see what those are," Tommy said, "if those are police lights, we're going to need to get out of here."

"Be careful," Carrie said, "Jerry might still be around."

"Not if the cops are close," Cookie said, "he's probably long gone."

"Be careful anyway," Carrie said, "I don't want you to end up like Mike."

Tommy nodded and darted off into the woods towards the lights. Carrie and Cookie stood there and watched him, not knowing what to do next. They just watched from a distance as Chris went over to talk to Jason.

"Jason," Chris said to him, watching Jason's eyes as he looked at the display, "Can you hear me?"

Jason was not listening to him. He was staring, partially in horror and partially in anger, at what was left of Michael Sanders. It was not much, by general standards. Jerry had carved him up fairly well, taking his time displaying the body. Jerry had wanted to send a message to Chris and Jason, a message that Chris could see had been delivered loud and clear.

"How could he do this?" Jason asked the body, "Why would he do this to you? You were so kind, so gentle. You didn't deserve this."

"I'm sorry, Jason," Chris said finally, "I don't know what to say."

"Why?" Jason asked Chris directly this time, his voice breaking while he did so, "Why did Jerry do this, Chris? Mike wasn't a threat to Jerry. He was just coming to give me support."

"It's a game to Jerry," Chris said, his voice going cold as he thought of it, "He did it because it would get to you. Because it would get to me. He doesn't care who he hurts anymore, Jase. Pain is all he ever got from anyone and now he thinks we are part of the problem. Now he intends to give it back. In spades."

Jason continued to look at the body, while Chris stood there and looked at him. Chris hoped that his friend would still be mobile after this. But the fire in Jason's eyes was not fear, it was hatred, hatred for his one time friend that was now bubbling up to the surface. Chris saw it and could understand it well. It was a feeling that he shared.

"I want to kill him, Chris," Jason said softly, "I want to kill him and to make it hurt."

"I don't doubt that," Chris sighed, "but we're better than him."

"So you want to let him live?" Jason asked him, "Let him do this again?"

Chris showed Jason the gun again, with Jason looking at it in a new light. Jason reached out to touch it, but Chris pulled it back again and looked into his friend's eyes. Chris saw that Jason had even more hatred for his brother than he did. Chris wanted to keep his friend going, but did not want him to do anything stupid in his anger.

"My brother has to be stopped," Chris told him, "there's no doubt about that. If that means I have to shoot him, then that's what I'll do. But we have to be smart about this, Jason. If we aren't careful, he'll win again. We die and he wins."

"So what do we do now?" Jason asked him.

"Get away from here," Chris said gently, "we'll decide the rest on the way back to the cave."

Jason sighed and stood up straight. He walked over to Mike's body and pulled his hand out of the tree, taking hold of it. Stopping only to wipe his eyes he took a solemn vow that he would help get the bastard who did this to him. Then he kissed Mike's bloody lips softly, stepping away for a final look.

"Ok, Chris. Let's get out of here," he said with a sad sort of finality, "there's nothing more I can do for him here."

Chris and Jason rejoined the girls quietly, just about the same time that Tommy Caron was returning from his investigation. He had an alarmed look on his face that made the others wonder what he found.

"Jerry has been busy" Tommy said, "That's Jesse Allen's place over there. Seems that he was killed an hour or so ago, parents along with him. Just like he did with Andy and tried to do with Cookie."

"He probably ran into Mike on the way out," Chris said, "if he had been watching us during the days before he started this madness he would have known that Jason and Mike were hanging out."

"Scary thought," Carrie said, "he knows more about us than we do him now."

"He doesn't know how determined we are," Jason said, "I will kill him."

"Jason's vision is blurred," Chris nodded, "but he's on the right track. Jerry doesn't believe I have the guts to follow through. That will be his fatal flaw."

"Can we get out of here before the cops come search this area?" Cookie said, "I don't want to go back to jail today."

"She's right," Tommy said, "they'll be out here soon and they'll find Mike."

"Back to the cave," Chris said, "we'll plan from there."

"We probably should sleep for a bit, Chris," Cookie said, "you look like you're going to fall over."

"I can sleep when Jerry is dead," Chris said as they walked, "I'll have time then."

"If you keep going he's going to kill you," Carrie said, "Forget the cave. Let's go back to my house."

"Are you baked, Carrie?" Tommy asked, "You forget that Chris is public enemy number one. You think Mom and Dad will let that slide?"

"Who said I was going to tell them?" Carrie smiled, "I'll go in and tell them I'm going to take cough syrup to go to sleep. They won't come into the room again."

"That takes care of one," Chris said, "I don't think you can get away with all of us. I can sleep in the cave again, it's no big deal."

"No way," Carrie said, "Too dangerous. He can find you there, which means that you'll have to stand guard and not sleep. You need to sleep, otherwise you'll start making mistakes."

"Ok," Tommy said, "I can talk Jason in. He's not wanted. I don't know what to do with Chris and Cookie though."

"Chris hides in my room," Carrie said, "Cookie in yours."

"Where do you get that logic?" Cookie asked, "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"I'm selfish, Ok?" Carrie said, "If I'm taking this risk I want to spend the night with my boyfriend."

"Ok," Chris said, "I'm too tired to argue. Lead the way."
Chapter 26: December 3, 1985, 9:47pm

Police Intervention

Getting Chris and Cookie into the house turned out to be rather easy, as their mother had already retired for the night. Tommy cleared Jason to stay the night with his father, keeping Matthew Caron occupied long enough for Carrie to slip Cookie and Chris into the house.

"What now?" Chris asked her.

"Now we rest," Carrie said, "Cookie will be fine in Tommy's room."

"Most action he's ever gotten," Chris chuckled.

"Funny," Carrie grinned, "I need to check out that wound of yours again."

"Later," Chris said, "I don't want to move that much right now."

"Man," Carrie said, "I'd be going nuts if I were you right now."

"I'm already there," Chris sighed, "it's not over yet, you know."

"It will be soon," Carrie said, "Jerry will make a mistake and you'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"I don't know if it matters anymore," Chris sighed, "what's going to be left for me after this?"

"Can't worry about that yet," Carrie said, moving closer to him, "You need to rest, first and foremost."

He was actually beginning to relax a little when the doorbell rang downstairs, jolting Chris into an upright position. He was, with good reason, very paranoid by this point.

"What the hell?" Chris asked, "Who would be here at this time?"

"I don't know," Carrie said, "get into the closet. They won't search the place without cause. It's probably nothing but stay quiet until I get back."

Carrie went into the hall just as Tommy came up the stairs and looked at her, his face a little bit white. She knew that something wasn't right.

"What?" Carrie asked, "Cops?"

"Jim Calysto and one I haven't seen before," Tommy said, "did you stash them?"

"Yeah," Carrie nodded, "Jason talking to them now?"

"Yep," he nodded, "seems friendly enough so far. They just want to talk to Chris's friends."

"Just answer their questions," Carrie told him, "last time we saw Chris was last night outside. We haven't seen him since."

"Right," Tommy said, "I'll tell them you'll be down in a minute."

Carrie nodded and popped into her brother's room, quickly giving Cookie a run down and giving her instructions on where to hide. Carrie then went down the stairs to join her brother and Jason, who were conversing with Rael Gabriel and Jim Calysto.

"Working late, Detective?" Carrie asked Calysto, "I don't believe I've met your friend?"

"I'm Detective Gabriel," he said, tipping his hat, "We just want to ask you some questions about Chris Healy."

"I figured," Carrie sighed, "your people seem intent on burning him for this."

"Just answer his questions, Carrie," Matthew Caron said, "this is too serious to play around with."

"When did you last see him?" Calysto asked them, his attitude nowhere near as nice as Gabriel's.

"Last night," Carrie lied, "he came down to look at the scene outside of the King place."

"Yeah," Tommy said, "he was at his house when I called him."

"How long was he with you?" Calysto asked, "When did he leave?"

"About ten," Carrie said, "right Jason?"

"Yeah," Jason said, "he and I walked together as far as his house, then I beat it home."

"Have any of you seen him since?" Gabriel asked, his tone much less aggressive than Calysto's, "Heard from him at all?"

"No," Carrie lied, answering for all of them, "I haven't seen him since then."

There was a general murmur of agreement for the others. Jason and Tommy decided to keep quiet and let Carrie do the talking, because she was better at it and had more at stake with Chris.

Jim Calysto and Rael Gabriel questioned the three teenagers for more than an hour, getting little more than what they did in the first five minutes. Gabriel suspected they knew more than they were saying, but knew that he was not going to get it in this way, especially with Calysto pissing them off.

"Why do I not believe any of this?" Calysto said, "He got out somehow! He's hiding somewhere! I think you know where!"

"What is your problem, Calysto?" Jason asked, having one of his smartass moments, "Are you upset because he got out or because you have a little dick?"

"Jason!" Matt Caron exclaimed, "That was uncalled for!"

"But probably true," Tommy said under his breath, earning a smile from his sister.

Rael Gabriel tried to look stern, but could not help chuckling at Calysto's anger. He felt that the kids had every right to dislike Calysto. Jim Calysto was running this investigation into the ground and Captain Gordon Six was allowing it to happen. He just hoped that he could prevent a further tragedy, but first he had to stop Calysto from going ballistic.

"Calm down, Jim," Rael said quietly, "you're not helping."

"I'm glad he got away from you, Calysto," Carrie said, her eyes boring into Calysto, "He didn't do this. He couldn't have. You look like an imbecile and if you think he killed anyone than you're dumber than you look."

"You little brat!" Calysto exclaimed, his voice raising and the veins on his neck tightening, "I ought to..."

"You ought to what?" Matt Caron said, not liking the sound of this, "I think you'd better watch what you say to my kids, Detective."

"Jim," Rael said, realizing that Calysto had blown it again, "Let's get out of here. They haven't seen him. We've got leads we need to run down."

"They are lying, Rael!" Calysto said.

"They've given you no reason to believe that," Matt Caron said, indignant, "I want to cooperate, but this has gone too far."

"I agree," Rael nodded, "go on out to the car, Jim. I'll be there in a minute."

"Rael!" Calysto said.

"I'll be there in a minute," Rael said, his eyes screaming bloody murder, "I just want to ask one more question."

Jim Calysto looked at his partner for a moment and then at the kids. He knew then he'd lost this round, but he also suspected that they were lying. Jason, Carrie and Tommy said nothing, knowing that the less they said the better. Rael Gabriel watched Calysto walk out the door and then turned back to the people in the room.

"I apologize for his behavior," Gabriel sighed, "but this case has got us all riled up."

"I understand," Matt Caron said, "it doesn't give him the right, though."

"I know," Gabriel said, "Carrie, Tommy, Jason. I don't know if you're lying or not. Right now, I'm not sure I want to know. But the evidence says that Chris did it. If he didn't, who else could have? Care to help me out a little here?"

The three of them looked at each other and shrugged. Jason's eyes were dead, much the result of finding Mike's body. Tommy looked at his sister and let her make the decision. Chris was her man, after all. Carrie decided to trust Gabriel up to a point, if only to see whether he'd help.

"If you want to look at one of the brothers," Carrie said, "look at the other one. If anyone is doing it, it's Jerry. He's been doing strange things for months, and in the last few weeks he's been out of it, big time. He's also had a violent streak in the past."

"Yeah," Tommy said, "even Chris suspected him last night."

"That's where he went," Jason said, "he wanted to find out for sure."

Gabriel wrote down what they said, figuring that it was a good thing to begin checking into. Carrie realized they might have gone too far and decided to throw a reminder out to Gabriel that they hadn't seen him.

"I don't know what came up of it," Carrie said, "I hope it helps you catch the bastard who did it."

"Me too," Gabriel said, "I don't think I'll keep you any longer. Please accept my apologies again."

"Keep him on a leash," Matt Caron suggested, shaking hands with Gabriel, "He's liable to get someone hurt."

"I know," Gabriel said, sighing as he turned and walked out the door.

Jim Calysto was pacing outside in front of the car. Gabriel looked at his partner and shook his head. He knew that Calysto was blowing the investigation, but he also knew that Gordon Six didn't care. Neither Calysto nor Six gave a damn about truth or justice. They just wanted the case closed.

"We're missing something here," Gabriel said, "the pieces aren't fitting."

"The only piece we're missing is Chris Healy's head on a stick," Calysto said, still fuming from the conversation in the house, "That's all we're fucking missing, Rael!"

"You really are as dumb as you look," Rael said, sighing, "What did Chris Healy say to you in there? It must have been good, because you're acting like an ass."

"You think what you want," Jim said, "but I know better. Gordon gave this case to me, Rael. Not you."

"That's because Gordon Six is an asshole who thinks his career is more important than a few dead teenagers," Rael Gabriel seethed, "just like you."

"That hurts, Rael," Calysto said, "I don't think your heart is in this."

"My heart is into finding the real killer," Gabriel said, "not framing Chris Healy without reason."

"There's reason," Calysto said, "and plenty of evidence. I'll let that speak for itself."

"There's more evidence out there," Gabriel seethed, "and you haven't looked at any of it!"

"You look at it," Calysto said, getting into his car, "I'm going to bed. Have dispatch call me when the APB on Healy turns up something."

Rael Gabriel watched in disbelief as Jim Calysto drove away. He knew that there was something missing, so he drove up to Cashman's store to make a telephone call from the same telephone that Chris Healy had used only a few nights before.

"Murphy?" Gabriel said, "It's me. Calysto is still being an idiot. Is Six still there?"

"No," Murphy shrugged, "he's gone home for the night."

"Meet me at the lab," Gabriel said, "make sure that Santiago is still there. Something smells about this case. I just don't know what it is."

"Right," Murphy said, "sounds like we're pulling an all-nighter."

"We've got work to do," Gabriel agreed, hanging up the phone and going back to his car.
Chapter 27: December 3, 1985, 11:48pm

Night Moves

Matt sat down and looked at his children. He too got the feeling that they knew more than they were telling, but he also knew them well enough to know they would not protect Chris Healy without a reason. Matt Caron also knew both of the Healy brothers and had a hard time suspecting Chris. Jerry Healy, on the other hand, he had no trouble believing the worst about.

"Is there anything else, Dad?" Carrie asked, wanting to get back to Chris, "I'm beat. It's been a really lousy day, you know?"

"Go on to bed," Matt nodded, "they've cancelled school for the rest of the week. I'll tell your mother to let you guys sleep in the morning."

"Thanks dad," Carrie said, "so is Jason staying tonight?"

"Yeah," Matt nodded, "I'm not sending him home. Not with that lunatic out there. I know Clarence and he will likely be too drunk to notice."

"Cool," Tommy said, nodding appreciatively, "Let's go on upstairs. See if we can forget about that moron cop."

Matt Caron looked at his kids as they went up the stairs and wondered what they did know. He thought that the unusual reactions from his children were because they had been through a lot. He had no clue, however, that they were hiding the two most wanted fugitives in the city.

Carrie, Tom and Jason met up at the top of the stairs, looking carefully to make sure they weren't overheard. Carrie was taking the lead and wanted to make sure that they didn't slip up.

"Ok," Carrie said in a hushed whisper, "let's just take it easy tonight."

"Yeah," Tommy said, "you keep quiet, whatever you do, ok?"

"Jason," Carrie said, "you ok?"

"No," he said, "I'm going to stay in the guest room. I don't want to be around anyone right now."

"Ok," Carrie said, touching his shoulder, "I understand."

"Stay in bed until my parents are gone tomorrow," Tommy said, "that way we all can get some sleep."

Jason nodded and slipped into the extra bedroom. Carrie and Tommy looked at each other and shrugged. They knew that neither of them would be able to give him the help he needed. They just hoped that he would all right until morning.

"Keep an eye on Cookie," Carrie suggested, "she'll probably be a bit out of it tonight."

"You do the same," Tommy warned, "Chris isn't the same person we knew before."

"What are you talking about?" Carrie asked her brother.

"You can't go through what he has and not change," Tommy reminded her, "be careful, that's all sis."

"Yeah," Carrie sighed and entered her room.

Tommy watched her enter the room and lock the door. He did the same and went over to his closet. Tommy Caron was tired and not sure what to do next, but he knew that he had to look in on Cookie, even if he didn't like her very much. He opened the closet door, expecting her to look like the confident bitch that he'd known from school. He got an entirely different picture when he opened up that door.

"Cookie?" he asked as he looked down at her, sitting in the pile of stuff that littered the bottom of his closet, "You ok?'

She was not ok. Her blonde hair was a mess and she was sobbing. She was being quiet about it, but this was the first time she had been left alone to think about things since leaving the police station. The sense of loss was enormous for her. Everything she had ever known, everything she had ever been, was all gone in the space of hours.

"Come on out of the closet," Tommy said, feeling more sympathy than he had before this, "it's safe now."

"Is it?" she asked between sobs, "I don't think I ever will be safe again."

Tommy offered her a hand, which she took gingerly. He pulled her out of the closet and helped her over to the chair over by his desk. He sat down on his bed and looked at her, knowing instinctively that this was going to be a long night.

"You don't seem to have much sympathy," Cookie said, noticing the lack of expression on Tommy's face.

"Why should I?" Tommy asked reasonably, "You think you're the only one suffering because of this?"

"You can't compare..." Cookie said with her eyes narrowed before Tommy interrupted.

"Not me," Tommy said, his eyes hard, "Chris. Chris has been our friend for years, never judging, never being anything but there. He has lost as much as you have, yet he's still fighting on."

"If it wasn't for his brother!" Cookie said, mad enough to almost hiss, "I'd still be at home talking on the phone to Brie and being chewed out by my father for it!"

"That's true," Tommy said, "but if it hadn't been for you and your asshole friends he might never have gone over the edge in the first place."

"Asshole friends!" Cookie fumed, "You have no place talking about..."

"Shush!" Tommy said reasonably, "If you start yelling, we're all screwed."

She looked at him with murder in her eyes and he moved to the edge of the bed and smiled at her. Tommy Caron had always wanted to be able to give the popular kids a piece of his mind and now he had a captive audience to do it.

"You've always been at the top of the heap," Tommy continued, "you single out and ridicule anyone that you take a dislike to. Not only that, but because you're popular everyone listens to you and ranks out who you do."

"That's the way of the world!" Cookie protested, not liking the way this conversation was going, "You can't blame us for that!"

"Who else can we blame?" Tommy asked, "We didn't subject Jerry to all that pain. That was you, all the way. Why did you do it? What did you gain? Did it make you feel any better?"

"Stop it!" Cookie said, sobbing again, "You're putting all the blame on me! How could I know?"

"You couldn't have," Tommy sighed, "it isn't your fault he went nuts, but you're not innocent either. After tonight, I don't think any of us are."

Cookie stayed in the chair and Tommy looked at her. She was not a friend yet, but she was no longer the enemy. Cookie was beginning to realize that she had been partially to blame for what happened, though nobody was going to go as far as saying it was all her fault.

"Come on," Tommy sighed, "you take the bed. You need the sleep, I'm betting you didn't get any last night."

"I can't," Cookie said, feeling that he'd already gone too far, "I don't think I'll sleep anyway."

Cookie didn't want to be alone again. She was still scared senseless and didn't know what to do. Tommy was not her first choice in companionship, but it beat spending the night alone in a corner cowering in fear. She stood up and sat next to him on the bed. Tommy wasn't sure what to expect.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," Cookie sighed, "I'm not suggesting anything kinky, but could we share the bed or something?"

"Wh-what?" Tommy stuttered, surprised by the request, "You want me there with you? Why?"

"I'm scared," she said, her eyes still teary, "That's all."

Tommy was scared too, since he had never been this close to a girl before. Cookie sat there and looked at him, not sure what to do next. Despite the reputation she had as one of the popular kids, she never did anything more than light kissing with her boyfriends. Tommy finally got up the nerve to nod at her and wrap his arm around her shoulder.

"We can share," Tommy agreed, still nervous, "If it will make you feel better."

She nodded and buried her head into his shoulder. They scooted back a little and reclined back onto the bed. Cookie was shivering from the cold in the room, so Tommy pulled the blanket up and covered her. They hugged each other tightly and sat there in silence, Cookie sobbing lightly still.

Carrie and Chris were lying together as well, but neither one of them were crying. They had both stripped down a bit, getting Chris out of the worst of the clothes. After spending a few minutes cleaning Chris's wounds neither one was in much of a mood to do much more than hold the other.

"What are we going to do?" Carrie asked him softly, "About your brother I mean?"

"I don't know, kiddo," Chris said, "I have no idea where to look for him anymore. I'm not even sure I want to."

"We have to do something," she sighed, "much as I like having you close to me like this, I don't think we'll get away with it again."

"I don't want to think about it, Carrie," Chris said, closing his eyes, "I want to enjoy this while I can."

"Enjoy what?" she asked him.

"The soft touch," he said while nuzzling her, "the kisses and the closeness. I don't think I'm going to get to feel it again for a long time."

"Don't say that," Carrie said, "we will win this."

"Even if we do," Chris reminded her, "there's still the fact that my family is dead. God knows where the state will put me."

"There's no one left?" Carrie asked, "No uncles, aunts or anything?"

"Mom was an only child," Chris explained, "Dad's brother was killed in Vietnam. Mom's parents died in a car wreck a couple years before we were born and Dad's parents both were gone by the time we were ten."

"Don't worry about that now," Carrie said, "you still have me and you won't get rid of me that easily."

Chris smiled and hugged her tightly. His body was beaten and he was seriously tired. She had slept only slightly more than he had over the past 24 hours, so she followed along quickly, curling up happily in his arms.

Jason Brigand did not sleep at all that night. He laid back and looked up at the ceiling, letting his anger seethe. He did not want to rest, but he knew that they had no choice. He thought of Michael and the sad way that he died alone, but he would not let himself cry for him.

Crying could come later on, when Jerry Healy was dead. Revenge was the fire that kept Jason going through the hours in the night that he was sitting alone. He kept his mind busy by devising creative ways to end Jerry Healy's life, each one more graphic than the next.

Jerry Healy was sitting down in an easy chair with a smile on his face, miles away from where Jason Brigand was fantasizing about his death. He was the only one in the room smiling. Regina Vasquez's boyfriend was lying on the floor, dead from multiple stab wounds. Regina herself was lying whimpering at Jerry's feet, having been brutally raped. Her arms were tightly tied behind her back as she sobbed quietly.

"That my dear," Jerry said as he relished the aftermath of the rape, "was exquisite. You really are very good with that ass of yours, the way you move. We'll have to try this again before I go."

Jerry turned on the color television with the remote control and turned it to the local news. He was beginning to love hearing about his deeds on the local news, though it annoyed him slightly that his name was not being associated with them yet. This was something he hoped to change, though for now having Chris be the one blamed was useful.

"So what should I do for an Encore?" Jerry asked the whimpering woman, "Should I try to piss off my brother some more or should I fuck you again?"

The young woman whimpered and tried to scoot away from him a little as Jerry smiled. Jerry could not have gotten it up again then anyway, so she did not have to worry about that. She did worry about her very life, having seen her boyfriend murdered in front of her eyes.

"Don't kill me," she whimpered audibly, "I didn't do anything."

"Kill you?" Jerry said, "I don't think so. You've been very good, I think I may let you live for a while."

Jerry watched the television and got annoyed with it again. He stood up and picked up a heavy paperweight that was sitting on a nearby table. He hurled it into the television, shattering the tube and making a large and cool explosion.

"Ok," Jerry said, "maybeBa it's time to make you really hurt."

Jerry stood up and grabbed his coat. Regina Vasquez breathed a little sigh of relief as he did so, but she wasn't lucky enough for this to be the end. He wasn't done with her yet. He smiled and managed to get it up once again, dropping his jacket on the floor.

"I think I'll have one more for the road," Jerry said, spreading the unwilling woman's legs again, "It may be my last chance for a while."

As the night drew on Tommy Caron was having trouble maintaining sleep. He drifted in and out a few times, but it was a new thing for him to have a woman holding on to him. He did not know what to do about it, his mind being torn between chivalry and teenage hormones.

Cookie did not sleep all that much either. She was impressed with the way that Tommy had managed to keep his hands to himself. She had no idea if it was fear or what, but she found it very cute. She was also surprised to find out that she liked the feel of his arms around her.

She did not know if she would have another chance like this again, someone who did not care who she was and took her for what she was then instead of what she looked like. It was something that she was just beginning to get used to.

She had never been talked to like Tommy had talked to her earlier, alternating between being kind and being brutally honest. She had needed both things at the time and Tommy had pulled it off.

She slipped up against him a bit more, lining her head up with his. He felt the closeness of her body and was starting to show it in the most natural way. She felt him stiffening and smiled. She kissed him first, knowing that he would not do it on his own.

He wasn't expecting it, and it shocked the hell out of him. It was his first kiss and he made the most of it, kissing her back and letting his inhibitions fall.

Cookie had been through hell and back through the previous 24 hours and wanted to live and experience life. Tommy was just going with the flow and enjoying every minute of it.

No words were spoken. No words would have been appropriate for the situation. Cookie reached down and released him from the confines of the pants that he never took off. He began to get brave and started feeling her up, sliding his slightly trembling and inexperienced hands up underneath her shirt.

Over the next few minutes all of their clothes were shed and all was left was the beauty and honesty that could only occur between two people who had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Fumbling through it beautifully as the two virgins they were, they made love with the passion and power that only desperation could provide.

Physically exhausting themselves, they finally came to rest again together in each other's arms, it barely sinking in to their minds that they had just shared their first sexual encounter. They both fell asleep peacefully, finally getting rest that only complete physical exhaustion could bring.
Chapter 28: December 4, 1985, 6:18am

Good Morning

Matthew Caron woke up shortly after five in the morning, the same way he always did. The bank he worked for did not go by banker's hours, so he was forced to be in his office by seven each morning. Usually he would wake up the kids and have them get ready for school, but knowing that the school board had cancelled school for the week he decided to let them sleep for a while.

He was cooking an egg in his usual morning routine, not knowing that anything was out of the ordinary. Unfortunately for him and for his family, this was not going to be any normal day.

Jerry Healy, fully rested and refreshed, was casing the Caron place for his next conquest. He knew he had to send Chris a message, a message that told him nothing was sacred and no one was safe. He pushed his hair back and went over to the telephone junction box in the back of the house.

"Let's see if they can call for help now," Jerry grinned as he used his stolen hunting knife to slice the thin beige telephone wires.

Jerry could not wait to see the surprise on the Caron family's faces when they figured out why he was there. He smiled and went over to the back door that he knew from experience would be the easiest to get through. He tried to use his knife to force the lock, but the door was a little too tight for that.

Jerry Healy made a mistake in this, however, as Matt Caron heard the commotion and knew it for what it was. It had been over fifteen years since he served in Vietnam, but his combat instincts had not deserted him. Matt Caron rushed to the closet and pulled out his trusted Colt 1911 pistol. It had saved his life many times in the bush. He was counting on it to do so again.

"Come on," Matt said to himself as he loaded the weapon and cocked the hammer, "let's see what you got!"

Jerry Healy grumbled and let off a good solid kick at the door, shattering the lock. He entered the back room of the house quickly, knowing the possibility of being heard was higher after kicking the door. He went and took it easy, walking slowly. He had been in this house many times, but this was most certainly different.

While his brother was making entrance on the house, Chris was just beginning to wake up. Carrie was still sleeping with her head on his chest. He heard Jerry's entrance, but did not have Matt Caron's experience on what the sounds meant. He merely stroked Carrie's hair quietly. She stirred slightly at his touch.

"What time is it?" Carrie slurred as she woke up a little.

"Too early," Chris said, "I heard your father moving, I think."

"He always gets up too early," Carrie said, "nothing new about that."

There was something new going on downstairs, however. Matthew Caron held the pistol ready in combat stance, knowing that someone was now in the house. Jerry did not know where everyone was, but he figured that it would be an easy job. The Allen house had been easy enough for him. He did not know what he was in for this time, however.

Matthew Caron was ready when Jerry eked his way around the corner. Jerry was not expecting to see a man holding a gun, but that was exactly what he saw. Matthew Caron held the gun at arm's length in a standard soldier's firing position. Jerry looked at Matt Caron with a bad feeling in his guts.

"Put the knife down, Jerry," Matt Caron ordered, "your reign of terror is over."

"My reign of terror?" Jerry asked, a bemused smile forming on his face, "You haven't been watching TV, Mr. Caron. My brother is the killer, not me."

"Your brother didn't break in to my house carrying a bloody knife," Matt said, his expression hard, "Drop it, or I drop you Healy."

"This?" Jerry asked, playfully dancing the hunting knife between his hands, "It's a present."

"Not today it's not," Matt said, "put it down. I won't ask again."

They were faced off in the kitchen, neither one giving an inch. Jerry debated on what to do next. Matt Caron was waiting for Jerry to either comply or make a move. He did not know for sure what Jerry was up to, so could not bring himself to fire in cold blood. Jerry did not have that moral limitation anymore. It was a very interesting match.

"Drop it, Jerry," Matt said, his voice taking an icy cold tone he had not used since leaving Da Nang in 1969, "Last chance."

"I've thought it over," Jerry said after a beat, "I don't think so."

Jerry threw the knife to the right and dodged to the left. Matt Caron wasn't prepared for that bait and switch move, but he fired anyway. Jerry's move wasn't entirely unsuccessful, as Matt Caron's shot missed its mark, only tearing a little flesh off the right side of his head, just above the hairline.

"What the hell was that?" Tommy asked Cookie as they went bolt upright.

"Gunshot!" Chris yelled, standing up straight in Carrie's room, "He's here."

"Christ," Carrie said.

While everyone was starting to move upstairs, Matt Caron and Jerry Healy were fighting for the gun. Jerry's head hurt, but he was just insane enough for it not to matter. Matt Caron once was a good soldier, but he was forty-three years of age and had not worked out in years. Jerry had the edge in both youth and initiative.

Chris was the first one to get downstairs, with Carrie close behind him. Jerry and Matt were still fighting when Chris got downstairs. Chris did not hesitate, he knew what his brother had been doing and wanted to end it, but Jerry was way ahead of him in this case.

In the struggle between Jerry and Matt Caron, Jerry managed to turn the gun on the older man. There was no intent this time, Matt Caron's finger was still on the trigger when it went off, but the bullet from the gun went into his own abdomen, not even touching Jerry. Carrie screamed as she saw her father fall down and blood spill. Jerry rose from the mess with a smile on his face.

"Jerry!" Chris shouted, pulling the .38 and aiming it at his brother, "It's time for you to die."

"Not yet!" Jerry shouted and dodged as Chris pulled the trigger once, his shot going wild and hitting the cabinet.

"Don't shoot!" Carrie yelled, "You'll hit my father!"

Chris put the gun back in his pocket and went in to fight his brother barehanded. Matthew Caron, a look of defeat in his eyes, fell to the ground as Jerry stepped back to get ready for the impending assault from Chris. Chris did not disappoint, jumping over Matthew Caron and trying to go for his brother's neck.

Jason was the next to arrive, as Tommy and Cookie were still busy getting their clothes back on. Jason saw Jerry and Chris squaring off and wanted to be a part of it. Carrie was merely trying to get her wounded father out of the fray.

"Die!" Jason yelled, trying to encourage Chris, "Get him!"

Jerry Healy was crazy, but not stupid. He knew he was outnumbered and that if he stayed around very long he would not live to finish what he started. Chris did not care one way or the other anymore. He merely wanted to stop Jerry in his tracks. Jason was considering getting into it when Tommy and Cookie came down to see the bedlam.

"Dad!" Tommy yelled, jumping down the steps.

Chris threw some solid punches at Jerry, trying for the bloody swatch on his head. Jerry knew Chris's weak spot as well, letting off a few hard blows to the knife wound on his right side. The blast of pain sent Chris down in a hurry.

"Fuck!" he said as he spit up a bit of blood, moving off to the side to recover.

Jason jumped in and took up the fight. Unfortunately, Jerry was much better at this fighting thing than Jason was. Jerry had had more practice during the previous few days and was having the time of his life.

"You having fun yet?" Jerry shouted, his primal instincts in full swing, "I'm just getting started!"

Janine Caron was up and running as well. She arrived at the stairs to see her husband being pulled out. She screamed and ran down the stairs, pushing Cookie out of the way.

Cookie fell over the railing, hitting a table and crushing it. Jerry saw his prize and pushed Jason out of the way like a rag doll to chase after it.

Chris managed to get up and charge his brother again, shoving him into the railing before he could actually do anything to Cookie. Jerry pushed back and managed to get up again. He was about to try to punch Chris in the wound again, but Cookie kicked up at him, knocking his fist out of the way.

"It's over, Jerry!" Chris yelled and went for his brother's neck again, "Time to die!"

"Not yet!" Jerry exclaimed, pulling himself up over the railing, "You're not that good!"

Jerry ran up the stairs to be chased by Chris and Jason. Chris went first and chased his brother into Tommy's room. Jerry looked for an escape and found none. Jason and Chris bottled him up in there, with Chris pulling his weapon and aiming it squarely at Jerry's head.

"Bye bye, Jerry" Chris said and pulled back the hammer on the gun, "I told you it was time to die."

"I still came out ahead," Jerry said defiantly, "I even managed to take out that little homo that Jason has been spending so much time with."

"We know," Chris said, not blinking an eye "But you won't get a chance to kill anyone else. Any last words?"

Chris's finger started to squeeze on the trigger, but Jerry smiled and ignored his brother, realizing his only chance lay with Jason Brigand. He decided to exercise his right to free speech and direct it at Jason.

"I have some last words," Jerry said, "your boyfriend gave great head, Jason. He died with me shooting a wad into his mouth!"

Chris pulled the trigger, but not before Jason jumped at Jerry, knocking Chris's aim off and sending the bullet flying into the wall. Jerry tried to react, but Jason was flying at him too fast and in too much of a rage. All 120 pounds of Jason Brigand's body hit Jerry Healy in his midsection, sending the both of them flying towards the window.

Chris dropped the gun and went after them, catching the back of Jason's shirt as they hit the window, managing to stop his forward momentum. This didn't carry over to Jerry, as he flew backwards through the second story window, screaming the whole twelve feet down until he hit the snow on the ground.

"Fuck you!" Jerry yelled as he pulled himself up, laughing maniacally as he started running, "See you later!"

Chris fired another shot at his retreating brother, stopping after that because he didn't want to waste ammunition on a shot he couldn't make. Jason was livid. Despite having a torn shirt and no cold weather clothing he was about ready to go out the window after him.

"I'm going after him!" Jason yelled.

"Think about that!" Chris shouted at his friend, "You'll freeze in a half hour!"

"I don't care!" Jason yelled, trying to get away.

"You can't kill him if you're dead!" Chris said, "Put some warm clothes on. We will go after him together. Be smart, not dead."

Jason was still pissed, but understood. He ran into the other room to get started. Chris looked out the window at the tracks his brother left behind when he fled. He hurt again, but it was time to go back to the war. He had deluded himself into think there could be a safe haven. He had also made the mistake of hesitation. It was not a mistake he planned to repeat.
Chapter 29: December 4, 1985, 6:36am

Lab Work

Rael Gabriel took off his tie and tossed it at the wall of the laboratory. He had been sitting there for hours with Bob Murphy and George Santiago trying to make heads or tails of the pile of physical evidence that had been taken from the crime scenes. He hadn't slept in nearly two days by this point and he was getting rather irritable.

"So what the fuck do we have here?" Rael asked, "Anything at all?"

"We have more fingerprints than I know what to do with," Santiago said, "and quite a few of them are Chris Healy's."

"But none from the killings before Morris," Bob Murphy added, "which lends credence to your theory that Chris Healy isn't our perp, Rael."

"The other prints you found, George," Rael said, "do they match throughout the crime scenes?"

"We didn't find jack shit with Jenkins or Farnsworth," Santiago said, "too much snow and no weapons."

"King and Allen?" Rael asked, knowing the answer before he said it.

"One set matches all four scenes," Santiago nodded, "Give me some time and a set of reference prints and I can lock it up for you."

"You think those kids were right, don't you?" Bob Murphy asked Rael, seeing the look on his face, "You think it's the missing Healy kid."

"I don't know for sure yet," Rael said, "I don't have anything to prove it with, but it would make sense, wouldn't it?"

"If only Gordie had let you talk to the Healy kid," Santiago shrugged, "it would probably already be over now."

"What about the prints on the knives?" Rael asked, "Did you find Chris Healy's on any of them?"

"One of the knives at the Morris place had a set of Healy's," Santiago said after checking his notes, "That one had blood matching the victims. The other knife had only the unidentified prints and blood we couldn't match to the victims."

"Say that again?" Rael asked, his ears perking up again.

"Which part?" George wanted to know.

"Blood," Rael said, "You had blood there that didn't match the vics?"

"Yeah," Santiago nodded, "Adam Morris and his wife were both type A. The blood on the knife was AB neg."

"Son of a bitch!" Rael said, "That's it! It makes sense now!"

"What?" Bob said, "I'm missing something in this."

"Chris Healy isn't a killer," Rael said, "much the opposite in fact. He's trying to stop his brother."

"How do you get that?" Santiago asked him.

"Find Chris Healy's medical records," Rael instructed Santiago, "five will get you ten that he's AB neg."

"You think he was injured by the killer?" Bob asked.

"Probably," Rael nodded, "it can't be Cookie's blood either, because both her parents were A."

"Two A parents make an A child," Santiago confirmed and looked at the post report on Joe and Juliana Healy, "Joe Healy was type A, Juliana AB neg. Very possible that's either Chris or Jerry's blood."

"If Chris didn't kill anyone," Murphy said, "Why the hell did he run? That just makes him look guilty."

"I'm betting Chris tried to tell Calysto the truth and that Calysto was too bullheaded to accept it," Gabriel said, "you know Jim as well as I do, it's not particularly farfetched, especially since Captain Six wants this case swept under the carpet. He and Cookie probably got frustrated and decided they had a better chance of stopping him without us."

"You can't prove any of this," Santiago reminded him.

"That's what I have you for," Rael Gabriel smiled, "get those records. See if you can find Jerry Healy's as well."

"Jerry Healy has never been printed," Bob Murphy said, "I checked that out myself."

"Not by us," Gabriel said, "maybe the school has them?"

"They do the fingerprinting in the fourth grade now," Santiago nodded, "my daughter was printed in case of kidnapping last year. Schools keep the prints in their file."

Rael was about to do some more postulating, but the radio started squawking. The general call for all units to head to the Caron house had gone out and Gabriel recognized the address. He paled at the thought that the killer had struck again. He grabbed his jacket and looked at the other two men.

"I want that report by noon, George," Gabriel instructed him then looked at the younger officer, "Bob, come on with me. I want someone to back me up, and I trust you more than I do Calysto right now."
Chapter 30: December 4, 1985, 6:49am

Did anyone win?

Janine Caron was screaming and losing her mind. Chris briefly wondered where Carrie had received her cool head from, because it certainly wasn't from her mother. She wasn't even helping her fallen husband, merely alternating between screaming and running around the room. She didn't understand a thing about what had just happened.

"Did anyone call an ambulance?" Chris asked as he walked downstairs and saw Matt Caron again, "How bad is he?"

"It's not good," Carrie said, barely holding back her tears, "He's bleeding badly."

"Phone is dead," Cookie said, "looks like the neighbors are up though. The cops should be here in a few minutes."

"I suggest that we be gone by then," Jason said, "Jerry went south, not sure where."

"What the hell is south from here?" Cookie asked, "Nothing but rocks and acres and acres of state park, right?"

"That's where he went," Chris said, "I'm betting he's hiding in the forts."

"Let's go get him!" Tommy said, "I want his head!"

"Let's go!" Jason yelled, earning a silent nod from Cookie.

The three of them tore off out the door together, running after Jerry's tracks. Chris didn't move as quickly, however, as he was more worried about Matthew Caron, who was lying on the ground bleeding profusely, despite Carrie's attempts to stem the bleeding. Chris kneeled down and looked into her teary eyes.

"Chris," Carrie cried, "I can't..."

"I know," Chris said, "you stay here and meet with the police. Talk to Gabriel if you can. Tell him everything. I'm going to follow the others and see if I can stop him before he hurts anyone else."

"Come back to me alive, Chris," Carrie pleaded, "that's all I ask."

"You know it," Chris nodded.

He was about to get up and go after the others when Matt Caron beckoned him over with his bloody lips. Chris kneeled back down and looked into the elder Caron's eyes, knowing that he probably did not have long to live.

"Stop your brother, Chris," Matt implored him, "he will never stop. Not as long as he lives."

Matt Caron coughed, spurting a little more blood into the air. Chris looked at him and Carrie, neither of which were doing very well."

"Dad!" Carrie yelped, "Hold on. The ambulance will be here soon!"

"It's in his eyes, Chris," Matt continued, "he will never stop killing. He enjoys it too much."

"I'll get him," Chris promised, "stay alive so that you can be relieved by it."

Chris kissed Carrie quickly and then started running after the tracks as fast as he could manage. Carrie watched him go with tears in her eyes. Her father helped her hold the wound, but knew from the feel of where it hit he did not have long.

"Carrie," Matt said, "is the gun on the floor still?"

"Yeah, dad," Carrie said, "Jerry didn't have a chance to steal it."

"Take it," Matt told her, "if you see Jerry again, don't give him a chance to move. Shoot him."

"Dad," Carrie cried, "I can't."

"Do it!" Matt Caron ordered her, "It'll be more use in your hands than in a police lockup."

"All right," Carrie said, still sobbing lightly, "I will."

"Once they take me in," he said, "help him. If Calysto is any indication, Chris is the only shot they have of catching that little shit."

"I will," Carrie promised, "Chris will stop him."

The ambulance arrived soon after that and she let them in. The two EMTs went to work quickly, one of them beginning the prep on Matthew Caron and the other one trying to calm Janine Caron, who was still in hysterics. Carrie stepped back and looked at the scene with surrealism.

"Stand back," they told her, almost pushing her away.

Carrie saw the gun on the floor, a gray Colt 1911 automatic pistol that she had only seen a few times before. Her father usually brought it out to clean it and when he was remembering his time in Vietnam.

Matt Caron had taught her and her brother how the safety worked long ago, so she picked it up and clicked the safety on. She grabbed her jacket and put it on, putting the weapon in the inside pocket as she did so.

"Can you help me with her?" one of the technicians asked Carrie, referring to her mother.

"Yeah," Carrie nodded and went over to her mother, "come on, Mom. Let's go to the hospital."

Carrie helped her mother into the ambulance after they put the stretcher carrying her father in. Jim Calysto pulled up to the Caron house just as they finished loading. She looked out and saw him there alone and decided she really did not want to talk to Calysto.

"What happened?" Calysto asked her as he walked up and saw Matt Caron, "How did your father get hurt?"

"Let's go!" she said to the EMT, "I'll talk to that asshole later. Dad needs to get to the hospital."

The EMT nodded and closed the door, giving the order to take off. Carrie pondered giving Calysto the finger, but thought a stare would do just fine. She was more worried about Chris and Tommy than anything else. She prayed that she would see them both again

"Shit!" Calysto yelled as he watched the Ambulance drive off, "Goddamn it!"

Rael Gabriel and Bob Murphy pulled up just behind Calysto and looked at the expression on his face. They knew that Calysto was pissed for some reason. They walked out of the car and went over to Calysto.

"What happened?" Rael asked him.

"I don't know," Calysto said, "there's nobody left here. Ambulance took the Carons away. Matt Caron was injured, looks like the mother was hysterical."

"Let me guess," Gabriel said, his fatigue showing in his face, "Carrie and Tommy were the sane ones."

"I didn't see him," Calysto shrugged, "he wasn't inside and the girl didn't direct the EMTs to him."

"Jesus," Gabriel said, "all right, I'm going to go talk to the girl. It's your turn for cleanup."

"Not this time," Calysto said and turned towards the car, "orders from the Captain. You stay the fuck away from them! It's my case now. They want it closed quickly before anyone else dies."

"Chris Healy wasn't at the first crime scenes," Gabriel told him, "but someone else was. We've got matching fingerprints for all of the crime scenes."

"And I caught Chris Healy with the murder weapon!" Calysto said, "He's got means and opportunity and everyone he knows seems to be ending up dead."

"What about motive, Jim?" Gabriel said, "Why?"

"Who knows?" Calysto shrugged, "Maybe he's just a fucking lunatic. I don't care. He's going down and so are you if you get in my way!"

"You're an idiot, Jim," Rael Gabriel shouted at his back, "I'm going to call Gordon myself!"

"Go ahead," Calysto shouted back, "see if he cares!"

Gabriel had to stop himself from pulling his weapon out and shooting the smug son of a bitch in the back of the head. Bob Murphy saw the look on his friend's face and realized that he was getting involved in the mother of political in fights. He knew Calysto well enough to realize that he would not be pushing against Gabriel without actually having the go-ahead from his superior.

"You calling the Captain?" Bob asked Rael, "You think he's lying?"

"No," Rael said, "he isn't that stupid. Six doesn't like me anyway. I'm more concerned about doing it right than I am about getting him good press. Let's take a look around, see if we can build a case that'll save that kid if he's caught again."

"Right," Murphy nodded, "let's look around."

The place looked like a war zone. Several pieces of shredded furniture and quite a few bloodstains added to the effect. They considered themselves lucky to not have to see several shredded bodies as well.

"Black and whites are arriving," Murphy said, "want me to take care of em?"

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded, "have them set up a perimeter."

"Anything else?" Murphy asked.

"Yeah," Gabriel growled, "have one of them find some coffee and donuts. I haven't eaten since yesterday and haven't slept in nearly two days."

Gabriel walked around the room, noting every detail like he always did. It just did not feel right to him. The bullet in the wall was in a strange location, as well. There was something missing, he just couldn't figure out what it was.

After dealing with the black and whites and passing on Gabriel's orders Bob Murphy went upstairs to do a walkthrough, looking for more injured people or bodies. What he found was a broken window and some blood.

"Come on up here, Rael," Murphy shouted, "I think you're going to want to see this stuff!"

Gabriel rushed up the stairs and looked into Tommy Caron's room, which was where Bob Murphy was standing looking out the broken window. Rael Gabriel went over and looked at the window and looked down at the impression on the ground. The crimson spot in the head area particularly impressed him.

"Looks like our boys may have won a round," Gabriel said, "or at least broke even."

"You think Jerry hit the ground?" Murphy asked.

"Possible," Gabriel shrugged, "but would Tommy Caron chase him alone?"

"No way," Murphy said, "the kid didn't wrestle Healy out the window alone either."

"Jason Brigand was here last night too," he told Murphy, "did you see anything else?"

"Yeah," Bob grinned, "look at the bed. Looks like someone had some fun."

It was apparent that someone had had sex in that bed fairly recently. Gabriel had a sinking suspicion that he had been had the night before. He went into the other room and found the bloody bandages that were left from Chris's wound cleaning the night before. He looked up at Bob Murphy with a smile showing the genuine respect he felt for those kids.

"They were here," Gabriel said, "that's the missing piece. Chris Healy and Cookie Morris were here last night. Carrie cleaned his wound and gave him a place to sleep."

"Didn't you and Calysto talk to the Caron kids last night?" Murphy said, "You think Matt Caron would support them hiding two of the most wanted people in the city?"

"I'm betting he didn't know," Gabriel said, "the boys were nervous about something. Now I know what it was."

"Jesus," Murphy said, "what's next?"

"Proof," Gabriel said, "this is going to be an easy crime scene. We're understaffed right now. Want to take some grunt work?"

"Sure," Murphy said, "you going to go try to see the Caron girl?"

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded, "I'm going to see if I can slip in after Calysto finishes mishandling that interview."

"Pissing in that pool again," Murphy noticed, "hope you brought the chlorine."

"Fresh out," Gabriel smiled, "if you find it, rub it into Calysto's eyes."

"Will do," Murphy laughed, "good luck. I'll call you if I find out anything."

"Right," Gabriel nodded, "get those bandages to Santiago. Have him compare with the knife and any records on Healy he can find."
Chapter 31: December 4, 1985, 6:54am

Disappearing Monsters

"So where the hell did he go?" Cookie asked the others, "He didn't just up and disappear?"

"How the hell should I know?" Jason said, "I didn't see him go!"

"It could have been either the road or behind those houses where there are already a ton of footprints," Tommy said, "the tracks are pretty well destroyed from here."

"Where the hell is Chris, anyway?" Cookie said, "Maybe he can figure it out."

Chris walked up, listening to them bickering the whole time. They looked at him for direction, figuring he might have a better indication of where Jerry might have gone. Normally he would not have, but with Jerry being wounded Chris knew that he would try to hole up for a little while.

"It doesn't matter," Chris said, "if he's going this way he's probably going to the old forts at the park."

"You think so?" Jason asked him.

"I would," Chris replied, "that Park is deserted this time of year and has plenty of dry places. He could probably even light a fire in one of them if he did it right."

"Why not break into a house?" Cookie asked him.

"Too dangerous," Chris reminded her, "he's hurt and has us on his tail. He probably wants to lose us before he does anything else."

"I'm up for suggestions," Cookie said, "just so long as we can get him, I'll be happy."

"Amen to that one," Jason said.

"Did my sister stay with Mom and Dad?" Tommy asked Chris hopefully.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "your mother was still freaking out. She's going to stick and try to keep things together."

"Good," Tommy said, much relieved that she'd be out of danger.

"So what now?" Jason said, "Which way will he go?"

"Jerry will stick to the shadows," Chris said, "let's see if we can outfox him and take the beach."

"We're chasing a psychopath," Cookie said, "not invading a country."

"Fastest way to the forts, Cookie," Chris said, "the roads wind around for a couple miles. The beach is a straight shot."

"Just like we used to do before he went nuts," Jason said, "you sure he won't expect it?"

"I frankly don't care if he does or not," Chris shrugged, "I'm sick of having to react to him. It's time he started reacting to us."

"Amen to that," Tommy nodded, "he's touched all of us now."

"You know him better than I do," Cookie said, "I'll follow your lead."

The four of them walked down to the beach and walked along the sand. They ended up in two pairs, Chris and Jason taking the lead while Tommy and Cookie dropping back a few steps.

"Chris," Jason said as they walked, "I blew it for us, didn't I?"

"Back at the house?" Chris asked him.

"Yeah," Jason said, "you had a shot and I got in the way."

"Don't sweat it, Jase," Chris said, "you're not the only one who fucked up. I should have shot him instead of letting him talk."

"I won't do it again," Jason promised.

"Don't worry," Chris said, the ice forming in his voice, "If I get another shot like that, he's a dead man."

"Good," Jason said, "you think we'll find him there?"

"I hope so," Chris nodded, "I'm ready for this shit to end. I've had enough, haven't you?"

"No question there," Jason said and then looked back at the others, "what's up with those two?"

Tommy and Cookie were walking together, smiling at each other and holding hands. Chris just shook his head and smiled a little. On occasion good things could come out of bad situations. It was probably just what Tommy had needed to happen to make him grow up a little, locking him in a room with a pretty girl and letting nature take its course.

"Looks like locking Tommy up with Cookie turned out well," Chris grinned as they hiked down the beach, "I'm not going to argue, are you?"

"I guess not," Jason said, "strange place for a courtship."

"Place is right," Chris reminded him, "timing sucks though."

"Right on," Jason agreed.

They walked in silence, covering the half mile of sand in a shade less than ten minutes. They were almost at the park when they ran into a Fifty-foot edge that was jutting out into the water, blocking their path at the park's beach access. Chris, Jason and Tommy cursed at their luck while Cookie looked at them in puzzlement.

"I thought you guys said you did this all the time," Cookie said, "what's wrong?"

"I forgot about the tide," Chris said, "usually we do this in the summertime. We'd either wait for low tide or wade through the water."

"Neither option is a good one right now," Tommy said, "spending more than five minutes in that water would kill us today. It's probably right down around freezing."

"Can't wait for the tide either," Jason said.

"So think of something!" Cookie exclaimed.

"There's only one choice," Chris shrugged, "we climb. The first fort is on top of this rock anyway."

"Climb?" Cookie said in horror, "You've got to be kidding me!"

"It's only forty or fifty feet," Jason shrugged, enjoying the expression on her face, "Not the hundred or so on the other side. It's also got a path there."

"Just have to watch for ice," Tommy said.

"You three are insane!" Cookie said, "I'm not climbing this thing!"

"Suit yourself," Chris said as he went up the first of the rocks, "you can wait for us here then."

Jason merely laughed and followed Chris, leaving Tommy and Cookie down at the bottom. Tommy felt bad for her, knowing that she had probably never done anything like this, not being the tomboy that Carrie was.

"I can't do this, Tommy," Cookie said, "I'll fall."

"No, you won't," he promised, "you go first. I'll stay behind you to help you if you lose footing."

"Who helps you?" Cookie said crossly.

"Let me worry about that," Tommy grinned.

She still was not sure about this, but was encouraged by Tommy's smile. They started on the climb just as Jason and Chris were about half way up. The path was actually mostly free of ice, mostly due to the salt in the air. It was not a great climb, but it could have been much worse.

Chris Healy heard a sound down below and turned around quickly to find out what it was. While he was noticing that it was simply a missed step of Cookie's, one she recovered quick, he made the fateful mistake of taking another step without looking where he was going. He stepped on one of the few pieces of ice on the rock and his right leg slipped out from under him, twisting his knee in the process.

"Chris!" Jason shouted and tried to get up to him.

Chris managed to keep hold and steady himself again while groaning at the pain in his right knee. He took the last few steps to the top and sat down on a large rock up there to begin rubbing his knee. Jason also finished the climb in a hurry and went over to look at Chris.

"Twisted it?" Jason asked, receiving a nod in response, "How bad?"

"I can walk on it," Chris said, "nothing broken or sprained, just sore."

Cookie and Tommy made it up to the top soon after, neither one of them having anything more than a couple bruises on their hands from the climb. Cookie growled at Chris, never having even come close to this type of climbing before. Chris and Jason just laughed.

"You made it," Chris said, "that's what matters."

"What now?" Tommy said, "Any ideas?"

"Let's search it," Chris said, "he's got to be here somewhere."

"Split up?" Jason asked.

"Hell no," Tommy growled, "you want to let him pick us off one by one?"

"Tommy's right," Cookie said, "I'm not going anywhere alone."

"We stick together," Chris said, "let's start at the old mansion. It's mostly burned out, so it would be a good hiding place."

"Let's go," Jason said, "need a hand, Chris?"

"I'll be all right," Chris said and tested his knee, "just limping a little. Shouldn't matter."

The four of them walked quietly towards what used to be a stone mansion. The wooden parts of the mansion had burned out sometime in the 1940s, just before the government turned this land into a state park along with the old fortress buildings. There was still a stone roof and walls, but there was nothing but dirt inside.

The area was officially closed after dark, but even so the mansion was often used by the local teenagers for their drinking and make out parties. Chris had never attended a party there, but he knew about them, just as everyone else did. Luckily, it was too cold for anyone to be out in the cold.

"Nobody here," Tommy said, "next?"

"The fort," Jason said, "he's gotta be there."

"I'm following you," Cookie said.

Chris nodded and led the way. They spent the next hour going through the various forts in the area, finding nothing at all. There was no sign of human habitation except for some old graffiti and a lot of litter dating back to the previous summer.

"Where the hell is he?" Tommy asked Chris, "We've been searching for over an hour and there's not even a sign of him!"

"Maybe we miscalculated?" Cookie asked, "Maybe he didn't even make it this far."

"He's here somewhere," Chris said, "I just don't know where yet."

"What makes you so sure?" Jason asked him, "That lunatic brother of yours could be anywhere by now."

"Jerry is insane," Chris reminded him, "but he's still Jerry. He's hurt and can't go home. So where's he going to go?"

"I don't fault your logic," Jason said, "but he isn't here!"

"I know," Chris sighed, "I know."

Chris limped around and looked out over the water. The beach below was one of the best in the state. It was a little inlet between two cliffs, about two football fields long. The U.S. Army had once maintained several forts up in this area, the remains of which the kids had just finished searching. The other side was visible from the fortress on which they were standing.

Chris was looking down over the edge and up at the other side. He could remember the good old days when he, Jerry, Tommy and Jason would play up in those woods with toy guns that looked entirely too real for their own good.

The memories of the situation were very vivid for him, making him close his eyes to try to push them away. He could not afford to think good thoughts about his brother, not if he wanted to finish this properly.

Chris opened his eyes and looked across the water at the opposite cliff wall. It was far away, but he saw clearly where they should be looking. It was a place that the rangers had warned them to stay away from numerous times, mainly because the route was so treacherous.

The original people who had made the fortresses back in the early 1800s had cut part of them into the large rock wall on the other side of the inlet. Rumor had it that there were nearly a dozen rooms in that cliff, but the only way to get to them nowadays was over a metal walkway that jutted out over the water and was approachable only by a set of stairs from the top of the rocks.

"Son of a bitch," Chris said as he looked across, "I know where he is!"

"Where?" Tommy asked, "Do you see something?"

"Across the water," Chris said, pointing, "The metal walkway."

"You're kidding?" Cookie said, "Why would he go there?"

"Because nobody else would be insane enough to do it this time of year," Jason said with a smile, "Chris is right, that's Jerry's style to a T."

"How do we do it?" Cookie said, "Can we even get up there?"

"Same way we always do," Chris said, "we go around and hope we can get there or that he's disoriented enough that we can get in."

"Let's go," Tommy said, "we've got a score to settle."
Chapter 32: December 4, 1985, 9:32am

El Diablo

Rael Gabriel pulled his unmarked car into a space at the city hospital. He was tired, not having slept more than a few minutes at a stretch for several days, but he was determined to figure out what had happened at the Caron house that morning. He walked in to the hospital and looked around the emergency room.

"Can I help you sir?" one of the duty nurses asked.

"I'm with the police department," Gabriel said, flashing his badge absently, "I'm looking for the Caron family?"

"Matthew Caron is still in surgery," the nurse told him, "Janine Caron was in hysterics and I believe they've given her something to calm her down."

"Carrie?" Gabriel asked, "Is she around here anywhere?"

"I think she's in the waiting room just ahead," she said, "Detective Calysto is with her."

"Shit," Gabriel growled and looked in to see them, "Thanks."

He looked through one of the side windows to the enclosed room to see Carrie Caron arguing with Jim Calysto. Gabriel wanted to know what she was saying, but knew that he'd be breaking orders if he went into the room. He also was not in the mood for another argument with the narrow-minded son of a bitch.

He was about to walk over to the cafeteria for a much needed cup of coffee when an ambulance wailed outside. It stopped in front of the emergency room door and one of the drivers ran inside looking around.

"We need a cop here quick," the driver yelled, "this woman is in bad shape, but she's talking."

"What happened?" Gabriel asked, "I'm a cop."

"You got here fast," the driver said, "she's hurt badly, but she's lucky. Her boyfriend is dead."

"Christ," Gabriel said, "not another teenager?"

"No," the driver said as the other two medics brought her in, "not far off though. Really pretty girl, probably early twenties."

Rael Gabriel looked at the girl and did not recognize her, though in that condition Regina Vasquez's mother would have had a hard time recognizing her. Gabriel did not want to catch the case, but he figured he could take initial notes for the detective that eventually got it.

"She's been alternating between English and Spanish ever since we got her," one of the EMTs said, "she was naked like this and it didn't take much to figure out she was raped."

"Got a name on her?" Gabriel asked.

"The neighbor that found her said her name was Regina Vasquez," one of the medics said, "teacher over at high school."

"El diablo está aquí!" Regina Vasquez yelled, "Lo tenía dentro de mí!"

"Who did this to you, honey?" Rael Gabriel asked her, "In English please, Regina."

Regina Vasquez had been pushed beyond endurance the night before. Her mind had broken in ways that would take a trained psychiatrist many years to be able to sort out. She was also speaking entirely in Spanish by this point, babbling and shrieking as the memories from the hellish night continued to plague her.

"I'm sorry," Rael said to the EMTs, "take care of her. We'll have to find someone to translate, or wait until she calms down enough to speak English again."

"Sure thing detective," the EMT nodded, "I'm sure they'll do a full rape kit."

"Call the station," Rael said, "they'll send a detective who isn't overloaded to take this assignment.

The nurse gave Regina Vasquez a shot that began to calm her down a little bit. Rael looked on, not sure what to make of this display. He wished he could do something to help her and hoped that the next detective caught the person who did this to her. He wondered if her mind would ever recover.

"Los ojos contaron su historia," Regina said, speaking really fast in Spanish, "Jerry Healy es el diablo. Él no parará. todo el dado! Puedo ver muerte en sus ojos!"

"What did she say?" Rael asked, "What was that name she said?"

"I don't know for sure," the EMT said, "maybe she'll repeat it?"

"Who is el Diablo?" Rael asked her gain, "Who is he?"

"Jerry está viniendo para mí! Él acabará lo que él comenzó. Somos todos que van a morir!," She screamed, "Jerry es muerte, él está viniendo. Jerry es dolor, él me matará!"

"Jesus H. Christ," Rael said, not believing this, "He left a witness. I want her taken care of quickly."

"Who?" the nurse asked, "The one that's killing those kids?"

"Possibly," Gabriel said, "I want a rape kit done on this girl. I don't care who you get to do it, but get the results to George Santiago quickly over in the lab."

"You got it, detective," The nurse said, "I'll run it myself if nobody else will."

"Keep it quiet as well," Gabriel instructed them, "I don't want the press to get this."

There was a general murmur of agreement as Rael Gabriel went over to call Santiago and Murphy. The medication they gave Vasquez was beginning to take effect, calming the damaged woman down. She quit yelling quite as loud and just began to mumble.

"No deseo morir sino que no deseo vivir en un mundo que puedo llevar a bebé de Jerry Healy..."

Chapter 33: December 4, 1985, 9:51am

Old Forts

Chris Healy, Jason Brigand, Tommy Caron and Cookie Morris stood at the top of the rock face looking down at the icy stairs that went out on to the metal walkway that went out over the water. It had been installed in the 1960s to allow access to the old forts inside the hill. The other entrances to the fort had long since collapsed. Years of new landscaping had left them covered over, making this walkway the only remaining entrance.

"Why did they do this?" Cookie asked, "This is insane."

"They use the area for storage," Chris said, "this was the only solid entrance. The lifeguard spotters sometimes use it during the summer as well."

"There are fresh footprints," Jason said, "someone has been here since it snowed. A few times even."

"Someone slipped at the bottom too," Tommy noticed, "there's blood down there."

"Maybe your father hit him worse than we thought?" Jason said hopefully.

"If we're lucky we'll go in and find a corpse," Cookie said hopefully.

"I'll go first," Chris said, pulling out his gun, "If he really is in there there's nowhere to run. Quick and painless."

"Make it painful, Chris," Cookie pleaded, "make it hurt."

"I don't care about that," Tommy said, "just so long as you make him dead, that's good enough for me."

"Here, here," Jason said.

"Let's go," Chris said, "watch your footing. That metal is going to be slippery."

"I don't know about this," Jason said, "this feels like a trap."

"He hasn't had time for that," Tommy said, "let's go!"

"I'll stay here in case he gets past you," Jason said, "I refuse to underestimate the motherfucker."

"You do that," Chris said and started down the stairs, "I'll see you in a few."

Chris slipped a few times, but managed to hold his balance fairly well. Cookie, despite having the least experience in walking on slippery surfaces, did the best by not slipping once. Tommy followed Chris closely, hoping to back his friend up as much as possible.

"Come on Jerry," Chris said softly as he slowly crossed the walkway, "it's time."

Chris approached the door and saw that it was partially open. He smiled, knowing that his brother had to be inside. His heart was beating fast, adrenalin pumping through his veins like a rookie cop on his way to his first bust. He decided that going in fast and shooting quick would be the best way. He stood in front of the door and got ready to kick it in.

"Watch your leg, Chris," Tommy warned, "don't hurt it again!"

"Fuck it!" Chris muttered and let off a full on kick on the door.

The door flew open and Chris rushed in looking for any sign of his brother. What he saw was not exactly what he had had in mind. There was someone sitting in a chair, but it most definitely was not his brother. A middle-aged oriental man was sitting in the chair with his eyes wide open, but he certainly was not seeing anything. The large red stain on his chest was proof enough of that.

"What the hell?" Chris said as he saw the man.

"Merry fucking Christmas!" Jerry said from behind the crate next to the door as he stepped out.

Chris was about to turn towards him when Jerry swung the crowbar he was holding at his brother's knee. Chris screamed as the bar smashed into his leg and he collapsed to the floor. Jerry stepped over Chris and raised the bar up to smash his head in. Chris looked up and saw the evil smile on his brother's face, going very well with the white scorched and bloody spot on the side of his head that resulted from Matt Caron's shot.

"Your turn to die!" Jerry yelled.

"Not yet!" Tommy yelled and tackled Jerry, causing him to drop the bar.

Jerry was a bit bigger than Tommy was, so he was able to shake the smaller boy off him. Tommy tried to smack him, but Jerry threw him into the body on the chair, sending the both of them sprawling over.

"What the hell?" Cookie yelled as she ran to the door, seeing Jerry getting up again.

"Nice to see you again, Cookie!" Jerry exclaimed, "It's time to finish what we started!"

Cookie backed up and tried to decide between going in and helping Chris and Tommy or running like hell. Jerry grinned as he looked up at her, seeing his target. Tommy was trying to get up, but he was not fast enough. Jerry was up and running for Cookie, intent on ending her life quickly.

"Nice try," Chris grunted and used his arm to trip his brother.

Jerry's forward momentum carried him out the door and at Cookie, who was frozen in shock at the sight of Jerry. She tried to move at the last second before he collided into her, but she slipped on the ice and fell back against the low metal railing of the walkway. Jerry then smashed in to her, sending the off balance girl over the railing.

"Nooooo!" Cookie yelled as she was falling.

"Sorry!" Jerry yelled, "Have a nice flight!"

Tommy managed to get up and follow Jerry back out over the metal walkway. Jerry was up like a shot and managed to get halfway up the stairs when Jason jumped him. Unfortunately, Jason's footing was not much better than Cookie's had been on the walkway and Jerry managed to slip out of the way by kicking at Jason's foot. Jason only just managed to avoid falling over the edge like she did after he fell backwards down the stairs.

Tommy Caron was in shock, and he was pissed. He had just seen a girl he had slept with only hours earlier fall over the edge to her death. Tommy wanted Jerry Healy's head on a stick as bad as Elliot Ness had wanted Al Capone. He did not even check on Jason, but barreled up the stairs after the retreating murderer.

Chapter 34: December 4, 1985, 11:34am

Hospital Blues

Carrie Caron growled at the closing door as James Calysto finally walked out. She had spent the better part of three hours arguing with that narrow-minded son of a bitch about the events that had happened at her home that morning.

Dr. Raymond Brooks walked into the room and looked at Carrie. The chief surgical resident in this facility, he was the one most responsible for the surgery on Matthew Caron. Carrie could almost tell from the look on the Doctor's face that she was not going to like what he told her.

"My father didn't make it, did he?" Carrie said to him, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm afraid not," Dr. Brooks said, hating like hell to tell anyone this, "The bullet managed to go through his liver, one of his kidneys and up. It was a mess in there. We fought like hell to save him, but the damage was just too severe."

Carrie cried a little, but fought breaking down entirely. She knew that she had to be strong, if only for her mother and her brother. Dr. Brooks did not know what to tell her next, but put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Have you told my mother yet?" Carrie asked him.

"No," Dr. Brooks replied, "she's under sedation already. She was very hysterical when she got here."

"Good," Carrie said, wiping the tears a little, "She doesn't need to know that now."

"Would you like something?" Dr. Brooks asked her, "This is a real shock, I know."

"No," Carrie said, "just a few minutes alone."

"I understand," Dr. Brooks said, "this is usually a quiet time of day. You can stay here for a bit if you like."

Carrie nodded her thanks silently. Dr. Brooks went out and found Rael Gabriel standing by the window. The Doctor and the Detective looked in to watch Carrie Caron start crying in earnest. Gabriel sighed and sat down on one of the cheap chairs and looked up at the doctor.

"Matt Caron didn't make it, did he?" Gabriel asked him.

"The wound was severe," Dr. Brooks said, "It traveled upward from the point of entry."

"Upwards?" Gabriel asked, "How so?"

"The gun was nearly in his stomach when it went off," Brooks said, "very close range. There were powder burns all around the wound, one of the worst I'd seen in a while."

"Struggle wound?" Gabriel asked him, "Like he was fighting for the gun?"

"Good guess," Brooks nodded, "wounds are definitely consistent with it."

"Jesus!" Gabriel swore, "This is a clusterfuck from hell."

"Your friend Calysto didn't make it any better on her," Brooks said, "how did he get lead on this?"

"Captain Six is an asshole," Gabriel said, "Let me guess, Calysto told you to not let anyone else see her?"

"He tried," Dr. Brooks smiled, "but he rubbed me the wrong way as well. Go on and talk to her if you like."

"Thanks," Gabriel said, "I wasn't here."

"I didn't see your ugly face, Rael," Brooks chuckled, "see you around."

"Yeah," Rael nodded, "we'll have a poker game when this shit is over, right Ray?"

"Your turn to buy the beer," Brooks said, "though I might let you slide on it if Kelly will make that sponge cake again."

"I'll ask her," Gabriel laughed, "maybe it'll get her mind off me taking that job down in North Carolina."

"They still trying to get you for that?" Brooks asked his old friend, "I thought they gave up."

"My cousin still works there," Gabriel said, "it's a special investigative force run by the city of Raleigh. Tight unit of people run by a guy named Trip Mason. Supposed to be the finest group of local cops in the Southeast."

"Kelly wants you to take it?" Brooks wondered, "Why?"

"She hates Maine, that's why," Gabriel chuckled, "she's wanted to go back south for years."

"One of these days you may have to take her," Brooks told him, "a woman that fine is going to leave your ass if you don't go home and start spending time with her."

"Yeah," Gabriel agreed, "that's entirely possible."

"I need to go do some rounds," Brooks said, "go on in and talk to Miss Caron. Maybe she can help you get the facts straight."

"I hope so," Gabriel sighed, "they can't get anymore fucked up than they already are."

"Amen to that," Brooks nodded as he headed off, "good luck, Rael."

Rael nodded and walked into the waiting room where Carrie was still sitting alone. She was crying, but she abruptly stopped and looked up at Gabriel. The look of mistrust and anger returned quickly, in a way that really hurt him. He wondered just how badly Jim Calysto had treated these kids.

"Great," Carrie said, "you here for round two, Gabriel? I just lost my father. I'm not in the mood to deal with you anymore."

"I'm not here to badger you, Carrie," Rael said, realizing he had to tread gently, "May I sit down?"

"Free country," Carrie said, wiping a few more tears away.

"I'm not here to lecture you or badger you," Rael told her, offering her a tissue from a box on the table, "I don't think I need to. It's you that should be lecturing us for letting Jerry Healy get away again."

Carrie did a double take at that statement and looked at the cop. Gabriel nodded and let her know that she did not hear him wrong. The look on her face was the acknowledgement that he needed of the facts. He did not even have to hear her say it to know that Jerry was indeed the murderer he was hunting.

"You know?" Carrie asked, "If you know this already, why aren't you chasing him instead of Chris?"

"I don't have the control of the investigation," Rael said, "I'm not even supposed to be talking to you now."

"How did an idiot like Calysto get control?" Carrie asked him, "He's not even trying to get to the truth. He's just trying to bury Chris."

"Captain Gordon Six," Rael said bitterly, "it's neither here nor there. I need your help, Carrie."

"I don't know where they are now," Carrie said, "they went after Jerry. I haven't heard anything since."

"Is there anything about this you haven't told me," Rael said, "other than the fact that Chris and Cookie spent the night at your place?"

"You figured that out huh?" Carrie said.

"Not hard," Gabriel chuckled, "I found bandages in one bedroom and stains from sexual intercourse in the other."

"What?" Carrie exclaimed, not expecting that, "You found what in Tommy's room?"

"Ummm," Rael said, "It looks like someone..."

"I don't believe it," Carrie said, interrupting him, "Now that's something I never saw coming. Tommy and Cookie?"

"So that's how you broke it down?" Rael asked.

"I wanted to be able to take care of Chris," Carrie said, "he was tired and had been hurt. He needed sleep and a bandage change."

"He was in the house when you talked to us, wasn't he?" Rael said.

"In my closet," Carrie nodded, "I'm sorry, Detective. I would never have done it if I'd known that Jerry would try to strike him there."

"I don't think Jerry knew," Rael told her, "I think he was striking at you, probably to piss Chris off."

"I guess that makes sense. He sure as hell looked surprised to see Chris," Carrie said, "this is just insane, though."

"Jerry shot your father, didn't he?" Rael asked her.

"They fought for Dad's gun," she told him, "It went off in the process."

"How did you know he was there?" he wondered, "I mean, what woke you up?"

"The first shot," Carrie told him, "Jerry is injured. That's why Chris and the others chased him."

"How long was Chris with you yesterday?" Rael asked, hoping to close some periods, "When did you meet up with him?"

"In the afternoon," Carrie said, "Soon after he and Cookie escaped."

"Son of a bitch!" Rael said, "He was with you when Jesse Allen was murdered, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," Carrie nodded, "we found Mike Sanders a few hundred yards away from there."

"What's the connection?" Rael asked her, "Who is Jerry targeting?"

"Mostly the crowd that got him suspended a month or two ago," Carrie said, "Mort, Andy, Cookie, Jesse and a few others. That's how Chris figured out to check Cookie's."

"And how he interrupted his brother and saved Cookie Morris," Rael said, "this makes a bit more sense to me now."

"You can confirm most of the details with Frank Carter," Carrie said, "He suspended Jerry because of some smutty pictures he drew."

"What did the others have to do with it?" Rael asked her.

"They're the ones who stole and posted them," Carrie said, "Jerry was railroaded that time. It was one of the many things that started him slipping away from us."

"He's been bad for a while?" Rael wondered.

"His mental state has been deteriorating for months," Carrie nodded, "I've been with Chris through most of it. None of us expected this though."

"I don't think anyone did," Rael said, "I'm sorry, Carrie. Probably doesn't mean much now, but it's all I have."

"I'm glad someone is," Carrie sighed, "I just hope Tommy and Chris are all right."

Rael nodded and couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound pithy in this situation. He remembered the conversation he had with George Santiago and figured that Carrie would know if Jerry had been printed.

"Carrie, we need a set of Jerry's prints," Rael said, remembering, "Do you know if Jerry was printed at school?"

"Sure," Carrie nodded, "the five of us were together that day, Me, Tommy, Chris, Jerry and Jason. We were all printed. Thought it was pretty cool then."

"Thank you," Rael smiled and kissed her cheek, "that may be the break I need to prove to the captain I'm right."

"No problem," Carrie said, "good luck, Detective."

"Rael," he told her, "I haven't earned that title on this case."

"You think you can find Jerry in time?" Carrie asked him.

"I don't know," Rael said honestly, "but I'm going to try. Let me make a few calls and I'll be back to let you know what I find."

"Ok," Carrie said and watched Gabriel go into the other room to use the phone.

She had no illusions about Gabriel's ability to pull this one out of the fire. Jerry was too crazy and knew this city too well to be caught easily. She was concerned with her mother, but she knew that her mother would be kept sedated, probably for the duration. She decided that getting out and trying to catch up to Chris would be a much better use of her time.

Carrie waited for Gabriel to turn his back and then made for the side exit. She still had her jacket and figured it would be good enough to last her for a bit. She was out the door and jogging away from the hospital before Rael Gabriel even noticed her departure. When he looked back and saw her gone he dropped the phone and ran into the room.

"Carrie!" Rael yelled, "Goddamn it!"

He went out the same exit she did, but Carrie was a bit faster than he was and had already disappeared into the woods nearby, knowing that they would be the safest way out on foot. Knowing he stood no chance of finding her out there without attracting attention he went back in and went back to the phone.

"What happened?" Bob Murphy asked him.

"Carrie Caron flew the coop," Rael said, "she confirmed what we already figured out, and she confirmed that they were all printed for that program years ago."

"Good," Murphy said, "I'm just about finished here. CSU is going to have to take the scene from here anyway."

"Especially since it's now a murder scene," Rael informed him, "Matt Caron died about a half hour ago."

"Shit," Bob said, "ok, where do you want me?"

"Meet me at the school," Rael said, "you and I have some work to do."

"Right," Bob said, "I'll meet you there in 20 minutes."

Chapter 35: December 4, 1985, 12:04pm

An Uneven Fight

Chris Healy managed to sit up and nearly screamed at the pain that resulted from his damaged leg. He knew that his right knee was probably gone, as it had been a direct hit from that bar. He growled and forced himself to look around the room.

Jason debated on chasing after Jerry, but he wanted Chris for that. He went into the room where Chris was and gasped at the sight of the body. It was not the first one he had seen, but he was not expecting to see another one here. Jason went over and looked at Chris.

"You ok?" Jason asked him, regretting it instantly.

"My knee is fucked," Chris groaned, "where's Jerry?"

"Ran past me, damn near knocked me over the side," Jason said, "Tommy is chasing him."

"Cookie wasn't so lucky," Chris said as he managed to move a little, "neither was that ranger."

"Jesus," Jason said, "what now?"

"Let's find Tommy before he does something stupid," Chris said, "help me up."

Jason nodded and gave Chris a hand and helped pull him up to his feet. He could not put any weight at all on the right knee, but he was able to use that leg to hobble a bit. Jason bent down and probed it a bit, eliciting a scream from Chris and the knowledge that it was not completely broken, most likely just the kneecap.

"What now?" Jason asked him.

"Let's find Jerry and Tommy," Chris grunted, "you injured?"

"Not like you are," Jason said, "who's the guy there?"

"Looks like a ranger," Chris said, "you can look at his name tag if you're curious."

"Can you stand?" Jason asked him.

"Do I have a fucking choice?" Chris grumbled.

Chris steadied himself in the doorway while Jason looked down at the wide-eyed corpse. He was somewhere in his late thirties with oriental eyes. His chest was pretty well caved in, most likely the result of the same bar Jerry had used on Chris. There was a name tag on him as well, that Jason managed to read.

"Ronald Magoochi," Jason said, "Looks like he's been dead for a bit."

"Just another corpse on the pile," Chris said bitterly, "let's find Tommy before he becomes another one."

"Yeah," Jason nodded, "I'll give you a hand."

While Jason and Chris were trying to get out of that death room, Jerry Healy was running as fast as he could away from Tommy Caron. Seeing Cookie go over the side had caused something to snap in Tommy's brain. The only thing he wanted now was to make sure that Jerry Healy was very dead.

Jerry Healy was having the time of his life, playing cat and mouse with Tommy in the trees. His head still hurt a little, but it wasn't enough to keep him from enjoying his game. He knew his brother was out of the game at least for a little bit. Now it was to have fun with one of his old friends.

"Are you having fun, Tommy?" Jerry yelled through the trees.

"Fun?" Tommy yelled as he searched for Jerry, "You really have lost your mind!"

"Yeah," Jerry yelled as he found a clearing that suited him, one that was fairly close to the seaside cliff edge, "That's what everyone keeps telling me. I don't know though. I think I was nuts before, taking that shit as long as I did."

Tommy caught up to Jerry in the clearing and looked at his one time friend. Jerry looked back and saw a target, someone to play with and a chance to have some fun. He knew that he could take Tommy, but wanted to have some fun with him.

"I'm going to kill you," Tommy said, firmly believing that he would, "You don't deserve to live."

"Neither did they," Jerry said, looking into Tommy's eyes, "I've gotten nearly all of them now, though I'm a bit disappointed I didn't get to spend more time on Cookie."

"You know nothing about her," Tommy said, "you don't know anything."

"She's a sleaze," Jerry said, "her and her asshole boyfriend deserved to die."

"She's warmer than you know," Tommy grinned, "you have given it all up, you know that? You'll never know what it's like to have a woman look into your eyes and tell you she wants you."

"I had a woman last night," Jerry grinned, "and it was very satisfying, I'll have you know."

"You never will know," Tommy said, truly beginning to pity Jerry, "I had one last night too. I saw desire in her eyes. Need. You couldn't have seen that. You couldn't have felt it."

"I felt it!" Jerry exclaimed, "I shot my load into her pussy!"

"If you think that's all it's about," Tommy said, "then you're even dumber than you look."

"Maybe," Jerry shrugged, "but I still got some, and I'm still going to kill you!"

While Jerry and Tommy were starting to fight and beat on each other, Chris and Jason were trying to figure out where they had gone. They tried following the tracks, but the trees were tall enough in the area to keep the snow off the ground, eliminating the tracks.

"Where the hell are they?" Jason asked, "They can't have gotten too far!"

"I don't know," Chris said, feeling the pain in his leg now.

Ranger Ami Kirk was looking for her missing partner. Ron Magoochi had been missing for nearly 24 hours, which was unusual even for the unreliable ranger. She had also heard Cookie's scream as she fell into the water, but was not sure where it had come from. She saw two boys up on top of the hill by the trees and decided to go check them out.

"Who's that?" Chris asked, "Over there on the snowmobile?"

"Shit," Jason said, "a ranger."

"Hey!" Kirk said to them, "Who are you two?"

"Just a couple of hikers," Chris lied, "I twisted my knee. Trying to get back to my car."

"Yeah," Jason nodded, "no big deal."

"Right," she said, not sure whether to buy it or not, "Hiking this time of year?"

"Love the snow," Chris said with a smile, "beats skiing."

"Sure," she said and then looked them over some more.

Chris had started bleeding from his knife wound again and it was seeping through his clothes. She looked at him and knew she had seen him somewhere, though it wasn't quite registering for her yet. She decided to go ahead and ask them about Magoochi, despite the fact that she was not really looking forward to getting him back.

"I'm looking for one of our missing rangers," Ami told them, "an oriental guy by the name of Magoochi. Have you seen him anywhere?"

Both Chris and Jason went pale remembering the body in the room, but Chris recovered quickly and gave the Ranger a nod. He decided to let her go find Magoochi on her own so they could get away.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "I think I saw him down by the catwalk."

"Really?" She said, "Wonder what he's doing down there."

"I don't know," Chris shrugged.

"Thanks," she said and headed over to the catwalk.

Chris and Jason looked at each other and retreated quickly into the woods, knowing that the lady ranger was going to go berserk in a few minutes. Once they went deeper into the woods, it wasn't too hard to hear the sounds of the ongoing fight. They rushed towards the noise in an attempt to stop things before they went too far.

Jerry and Tommy were still fighting in the clearing. Tommy was slowly losing the fight, mainly due to Jerry's larger size and complete disregard for his own pain. Tommy's nose was bloody and the poor boy had been rather badly beaten. It did not dampen his spirit though. Tommy had a score to settle and he intended to do it, no matter what.

"I'm going to get you!" Tommy yelled and rushed Jerry again.

"You keep saying that," Jerry laughed as he dodged out of the way, "you're pathetic, you know that?"

"At least I don't have a little dick," Tommy grinned through his bloodied lips.

This was the wrong thing to say to Jerry. Jerry rushed in and started pounding on Tommy hard, not trying to draw out the game anymore. Tommy tried to fight back, but his body was not able to take much more punishment. The fight was nearly over when Chris and Jason made it to the clearing.

"Jerry!" Chris yelled, getting his brother's attention, "Let him go!"

"You really want me to?" Jerry said, looking at Chris, then Tommy, and then back at Chris, "I think I can manage that."

Jerry pulled the beaten and battered Tommy over to the edge of the ledge. Chris reached down for his gun, only to realize that they'd left it on the floor in the death room by the catwalk. Jason considered rushing in, but he didn't want to get Tommy killed.

"Don't do it, Jerry," Chris said, "he doesn't deserve that."

"Fuck you, Jerry," Tommy spat, "I go, you're going with me."

"I don't think so," Jerry said to Tommy, "bon voyage, have a nice trip!"

Before Jason could get in there and stop him, Jerry pushed Tommy over the side and lashed out a violent sidekick at the approaching Jason. Chris tried to get into the fray, but his injured knee gave out on him, sending him sprawling face first into the snow.

"You guys just don't learn do you?" Jerry shouted as he knocked Jason back and beat on him a little, "I'm unstoppable!"

"Not today!" Cookie yelled as she stepped into the clearing holding Chris's pistol at arm's length.

Chris looked up in surprise as Cookie tried to aim the weapon, but her hand was shaking badly from the cold. Her face was nearly blue and it was obvious that she was soaked from falling into the ocean. That did not stop her from pulling the trigger, however, and hitting Jerry in the shoulder. Chris watched Jerry fall backwards towards the edge.

Jerry had more strength remaining and presence of mind than Tommy did when he went over, he also didn't have the same amount of force carrying him either. Jerry managed to grab on to a rock and stop his fall. Knowing that they still had the gun up there he quickly climbed down the rocks and ignored the flesh wound as he ran away as fast as he could.

Cookie was unable to hold on to the weapon anymore, dropping it to the ground and following it herself. She was chattering and unable to stand up anymore. Jason wanted to help her, but he couldn't help but look over the edge. What he saw pained him. Jerry had managed to avoid hitting the rocks below, but Tommy had not. His body was lying sprawled out on the rocks, surrounded by a generous amount of blood, indicating that he had not survived the fall.

"Did Tommy make it?" Chris asked him, knowing from the look on his face it was a rhetorical question.

"Oh god!" Cookie wailed, "No!"

Jason was about to go over and help Cookie when Ami Kirk rushed in to the clearing with her gun pulled. She had learned over the years how to tell when something was wrong and finding Magoochi's corpse didn't help matters much. After finding it, Ami Kirk had realized who the kid really was.

"Healy!" the ranger exclaimed, "You're wanted for murder!"

"Wrong one," Chris said, "my brother is the one you want."

"The TV says it's you," she said, aiming her weapon at Chris, "Now are you going to surrender or not?"

"Lady," Chris said, almost laughing at the stupidity of the situation, "I'd love to. In the last two days I've been stabbed, beaten and had my knee broken."

"We just had our best friend pushed over the edge too," Jason said, "give us a break, will you?"

Ami did not know what to believe. She knew she had received the watch from the local police department, but these kids did not look like hardened killers. They looked beaten and battered and like they were victims. The girl in particular looked much the worse for wear.

Chris saw that she was distracted and took the opportunity to grab the gun out of Ranger Kirk's hand, aiming it at her head just as she had to him. She raised her hands and looked at Chris, thinking that her life was over. Luckily for her, Chris only wanted to make a point.

"I'm not a killer," Chris said and slowly released the hammer, "Neither are you. But Jerry is and we can't stop him if you turn us in."

Chris handed the weapon back to the stunned ranger and looked at Jason. Jason shrugged and did not know what to do next. Jerry was long gone and they had failed again. The price of failure was high this time, more than they could afford to pay. Cookie crawled over to the edge and looked down at Tommy's body.

"Oh god!" Cookie wailed, "We've got to help him!"

"I don't think anyone can help him now," Ranger Kirk said as she looked down, "friend of yours?"

"Tommy Caron," Chris said as he managed to hobble over to the edge, using Jason for support, "Jerry threw him over the edge like he was yesterday's garbage."

"Come on," Ranger Kirk said, "let's go back to my office. I'll patch you up and we can get the young woman here warm."

Chris nodded wearily and hobbled away from the edge. Jason stayed with him, letting Ami take Cookie with her. They had lost this round and were being forced to retreat yet again. Chris just hoped that they had not lost the war this time.

Chapter 36: December 4, 1985, 12:53pm

This is what not winning looks like

Ami Kirk sat down in the old metal chair at the old ranger cabin that she'd spent the previous six months working out of. It wasn't quite the same for her with Ron Magoochi gone, though she really didn't miss the lecherous son of a bitch very much. Besides, she had other things to worry about now.

She had two of the most wanted people in the city warming up in front of her fireplace and they were in sorry shape. She now knew they had not done the things the flyer said they had. They looked more like a group of corpses than a group of fugitives.

Chris Healy was slumped into Ron Magoochi's easy chair. He looked tired and acted it too. The heat in the room was helping him though. The color was almost back into his face, though the life was still nearly gone from his eyes.

Jason Brigand and Cookie Morris were huddled together, wearing very little between them and wrapped with a heavy wool blanket. It was not due to any sexual desire between them. It was to get body heat into Cookie before she lapsed into total hypothermia.

Ami sighed and filled four cups with the tea she had been making. She filled three of the cups with honey, figuring they could use the sugar as well as the warmth. Carrying the four cups on a tray she put them down on a table and handed one over to Chris.

"You know," Chris noticed, "you don't look all that broken up over Ron Magoochi's death."

"I'm not," Ami admitted with a shrug, "Ron Magoochi was a sexist pig. I'd worked with him for months and endured several hundred crude come-ons."

"Y-y-you m-m-mean Jerry a-a-ctually killed someone wh-who deserved it?" Cookie stammered.

"I don't know," Jason shrugged, "I can't say that I minded hearing about a few of Jerry's victims."

"Now I just have to explain it to my boss," Ami frowned.

"No mystery," Chris shrugged, "you went out and found the body. In searching around for Magoochi's killer, you found Tommy."

"We were never here," Jason added.

"So what's the next step?" Ami asked Chris.

"I don't know," Chris sighed as he thought about it, "I don't have a clue what my lunatic brother is going to do next."

"You've been chasing after him for nearly two days now," Ami said, "isn't that right?"

"More like stumbling," Chris said, "Christ. I don't what I'm doing anymore. All I'm doing is getting my friends killed."

"You didn't kill him," Jason said, "he did it himself."

"He-he's right," Cookie stammered, still very cold, "Tommy w-was upset over his f-father."

"Seeing you go over the edge put him off his rocker," Jason said to Cookie, "he tore by me like a madman to go after Jerry."

"Maybe we should let the cops handle it," Chris sighed, "lord knows we've fucked it up so far."

"You think they're going listen to us?" Jason said, "After all of this?"

"I think your friend is right," Ami said to Jason and Cookie, "the cops are better equipped to deal with this."

"The cops can't win this one," Jason said, "they don't know Jerry like we do. They don't have the information."

"So give it to them!" Ami exclaimed.

"W-we t-t-tried," Cookie said, "C-calys-t-to wouldn't listen."

"Cookie is right," Chris sighed, "we tried for hours to get him to listen. All he did was accuse me and try to get me to confess to all the killings."

"So what are you going to do?" Ami asked, "Sit here and sulk?"

"Cookie," Chris said, straightening up a little in the chair and getting a burst of pain for his effort, "Who else was with you that day?"

Cookie looked at him and drank a little more of the tea, which helped her voice a bit. Jason drained his quickly, having lost a large chunk of his body warmth to warming Cookie up. Chris tapped the foot on his good leg as he waited for Cookie to answer.

"Who was with you when you screwed my brother over, Cookie?" Chris asked her again.

"Ok," Cookie sighed, "Mort and Andy were the ones who really had the idea. Jesse helped restrain him. There were others around, but most of them are dead now."

"Think Cookie," Jason said, "is there anyone other than you that is still alive?"

"Anyone we can check on," Chris said, "we need another place to start."

"All the guys are dead," Cookie said, "he hasn't touched any of the girls, except for me."

"How many were there?" Chris asked her, pushing a little harder, "Think about it!"

"Brie Ross was there," Cookie said, "she's the only one who stayed really."

"Did she do anything directly to Jerry?" Jason asked.

"Spit in his face," Cookie said, embarrassed to remember what she had done to Jerry.

"Great friends, Cookie," Chris mumbled, "ok. I think we know his next target."

"You can't seriously think you can go out like this," Ami said, frowning, "You can't even walk, Chris."

"We have no choice," Chris sighed, "the only way I can prove my innocence is to stop Jerry."

"He's like that terminator in the movie," Jason said, "he won't stop until he's dead."

"Something I'd prefer to accelerate," Chris agreed, "have you got any ace bandages, Ami?"

"If you don't get that looked at it'll get worse," Ami warned him.

"That's a chance I'll have to take," Chris said, his determination returning, "do you have any?"

"Yeah," Ami sighed, "I'll go get some."

Chris watched as the ranger left the room. Ami was tall, well proportioned and had shoulder length dark hair. Chris knew she meant well, but there was no getting around having to move again. His body was hurt and his mind was not much better, but he was nothing if not determined.

"You think we can actually pull this off?" Jason asked him.

"Probably not," Chris said, chuckling at himself, "But we have to try, don't we? I'd rather die trying than live with the guilt of not having done anything."

"What if he doesn't show up at Brie's?" Cookie asked him, "What do we do?"

"We'll go from there and search back down at the waterfront," Chris said, "if nothing else we've at least warned her."

"I'm surprised you care about that," Cookie said.

"I don't care about Brie Ross," Chris said, "I don't even like the bitch. I just don't want to see my brother win another round."

"Glad to see you have a real deep seated respect for human life," Cookie said sourly.

"About as much as you did when you tormented Jerry in the first place," Jason said.

"Now wait a minute," Cookie said, "people get embarrassed at school like Jerry did all the time. They do not become murdering lunatics because of it!"

"Jerry was unstable before," Chris said, "but you and your friends didn't help his sanity any."

"Then why didn't you get him help before he started killing people?" Cookie asked Chris, "You knew him, you lived with him. It was something that you should have seen!"

"We knew Jerry was getting strange," Jason said, "who fucking knew he'd do this?"

Ami Kirk stood in the doorway and watched the kids debate this subject. She did not know what to make of them some of the time, but from what she had seen she knew that if anyone stood a chance of catching Jerry Healy it was them. She just hoped that they could manage to do it without killing each other.

"You should have known!" Cookie exclaimed.

"How could he have known?" Ami said as she made her presence known, "Chris is Jerry's brother, not his doctor or his keeper."

Ami tossed the bag of ace bandages over to Chris, who started picking through it looking for one that would work well for his knee.

"What do you know about this?" Cookie asked her.

"I know people," Ami shrugged and sat down, "I don't think any of you are seeing the big picture here."

"What big picture is that?" Chris asked her.

"It doesn't matter how he got started," Ami reminded them, "all that matters now is that he gets stopped."

"She does have a point," Jason sighed, "we're the only ones who know what's really going on."

"Can we work together long enough to put a bullet into Jerry's brain?" Chris asked Cookie, trying to make peace.

"I hope so," Cookie sighed, "though, you know, if you can't walk this is pretty much a moot point."

"Let me take care of that leg, Chris," Ami said, "I've been doing first aid for years."

"Do your thing ranger lady," Chris said.

"I'm going to wrap it very tightly," Ami said as she began on the leg, "it's the only way you'll any mobility at all. You'll have a pronounced limp and it's going to hurt like hell, but at least it won't fall out from under you."

"That works," Chris said, "as long as it will hold my weight I'll be happy."

"Do you have a set of clothes that might fit me?" Cookie asked Ami, "Mine were pretty much ruined by my dip in the ocean."

"You can have a set of mine," she said, "I'm a bit taller than you are and a size or two larger, but you should be able to make do."

"Thanks," Cookie nodded and went to raid Ami's warm clothes closet.

When Ami finished wrapping Chris's right knee she and Jason helped him stand up for the first time on it. Chris nearly doubled over from the pain the first time he put weight on it, but he soon got used to the twinge that pushed up his leg every time he stepped on it.

"I think it's going to work," Chris said, half smiling, "I think it's just about time to go."

"You'd best hurry," Ami said, "it's already starting to flurry out there. Supposed to be a full blown blizzard later today."

"How far is Brie's house from here?" Jason asked Cookie.

"Half mile at the outside," Cookie said, "just up the road from my place."

"Want a ride?" Ami asked them, knowing what their answer would be.

"You're involved far enough," Chris said, "do yourself a favor and forget we exist."

"I doubt I could," Ami grinned, "But I'll settle for anonymity."

"Even if we get caught," Cookie said, "we won't say a word."

"Thanks Ami," Jason said, "we'd be toast without you."

"Don't thank me," Ami said seriously, "just come back and see me when this is over. You all have guts. Try to keep them inside you, eh?"

Chris nodded to Ami and hobbled towards the door. Jason opened it up and the snow flurried in. They were all about to leave when Ami came out again holding a four-foot metal pole. Chris looked at her and wondered what she was doing.

"Take this, Chris," Ami said, "I had it when I broke my foot last year. It'll help you keep the leg working longer."

"Thank you," Chris said and meant it, "good luck. You've got bodies to find."

"Don't remind me," Ami shuddered, "I'm not looking forward to it."

Chris, Jason and Cookie smiled and walked off into the falling snow together, on their way to a future that they were not certain of. They had lost a battle, but they had not lost the war yet. It was, however, time to go back to the front lines.

Chapter 37: December 4, 1985, 12:18 pm

The Ice Queen

"You think she's home?" Chris asked Cookie as they approached the house.

"Her mother is a security nut," Cookie said, "not to mention she hates snowstorms. She'll be there. She damn near hibernates at this time of year."

"Stationary target for Jerry," Jason said with a shudder, "you know he's going to be here soon."

"If he isn't already," Chris said, "he had to go somewhere when he ran from us."

"You think he's in good enough shape for that?" Jason wondered, "I mean he's been shot twice today."

"You saw the look on his face," Chris said, "he's insane enough not to care. He might have holed up for a bit, but I don't think he'll stop. I don't know how well you hit him either since Carrie's dad only grazed his head. Nothing but a flesh wound."

"He's always been a persistent motherfucker," Jason agreed, "so what do we do?"

"Let's go see Brie," Cookie said, "it'll get us out of the snow at least."

The snow had started coming down in earnest, the precursor of the blizzard that had been promised for a week. Chris was thankful for the snow actually, the cold that went along with it kept the pain down in his knee. They approached the house and saw some light footprints around it.

"You think he's already here?" Cookie said.

"It's possible," Chris said, "you guys might want to find something to defend yourselves with."

"You're keeping the gun, eh?" Jason chuckled.

"You've got more mobility than I do," Chris grinned weakly, "let's check the back."

The three of them walked around into the back yard. Cookie found a wooden stake propped against the back fence, one that had been used for a shade tent the previous summer. Jason found a solid 2x4 that he was able to wield as a club. They looked around at the tracks and noticed that whoever had walked out here had gone back and forth a few times.

While they were looking out back there a neighbor of the Ross's watched them walk around the yard. A nosy woman that always put herself into her neighbors business, she recognized Chris Healy from his picture in the paper. The 250-pound woman nearly shit her pants as she went over to the telephone and called the local emergency number for the police.

"I think that guy from the TV is outside the house next door," she said to the operator.

"What's your address?" the operator asked, waving to another operator to page Jim Calysto, "I'll get the police right away."

While the annoying woman was calling the police, Chris, Jason and Cookie were looking at a telephone junction box. The box had been ripped clean off, leaving splintered wires where it should have been. The significance was lost on Cookie, but Jason and Chris knew exactly what it meant.

"He's here," Chris said, "he did this at Carrie's place too."

"What is it?" Cookie asked him.

"Telephones," Chris said, "this is where they would have come in. He made it so nobody could call the police."

"Beautiful," Jason said, "so what's the plan?"

"Let's get inside," Chris said, "sooner the better."

"Right," Cookie said.

They went to the back door and Cookie was the first one up there to look at it. She really looked scared when she was able to tap the door and it opened up. She looked down at Chris and Jason, who joined her up on the stairs to look at the door.

"This isn't like Brie's parents," Cookie said, "her mother is a security freak. Nobody in the family would leave the door like this."

Jerry Healy was indeed in the house. He was hurting and decided that he needed to get on with his revenge. He was getting sick of his brother interfering with his plans as well, so hearing Chris, Cookie and Jason approach the house was not something he particularly wanted.

"How the hell does he keep finding me?" Jerry wondered in his mind.

He decided that his revenge could wait a little while longer and that he'd relax in the pantry. He pulled a table chair in there and sat down, getting some rest. He listened intently as Chris, Cookie and Jason made their entrance. He wondered what fun he could have with this.

"I don't hear anything yet," Chris said, "where does the family congregate?"

"Her father is probably out of town," Cookie said, "he's rarely here nowadays. Her mother would be working. Her brother might be here, but god knows with that dork."

"Ok," Chris said, "let's find her."

"Upstairs," Cookie said, "she'll be in her room, probably wondering what happened to her telephone."

Chris shook his head and sighed. He wondered why he was going to all this trouble to save a girl this dumb. If you blew in Brie Ross' ear the hair on the other side would move. He removed the gun from his pocket and climbed the stairs slowly, which was the only way he could do it with his knee bound as it was.

"Which way?" Chris asked her when they got to the top.

"Left," Cookie said, "her room is at the end of the hall."

They hobbled in that direction when they heard a loud scream emanate from Brie Ross's room. Chris ignored the pain in his leg and just about ran towards the room, using his good leg to kick open the door, splintering the door off its top hinge and leaving it hanging by its bottom one. Chris lost his footing then and hit the floor hard, waving the gun around looking for Jerry.

Brie Ross screamed in earnest this time, this time at the insane entrance of Chris Healy rather than because of the scary movie she had been watching before they came in. Cookie rushed in to calm the screaming girl and Jason calmly walked in, looking at the damage.

"Good," Jason said, "shouldn't take more than a few hundred dollars worth of carpentry to fix that."

"What the hell is going on here?" Brie Ross screamed, "What are you doing with these hoods, Cookie?"

Cookie looked at her old friend and sighed. Cookie may have been a bitch, but at least there was a glimmer of intelligence underneath. Gabrielle Ross was an idiot and even Cookie knew it. She looked at her friend and shook her head as Jason helped Chris up off the floor.

"Brie," Cookie said, "they aren't hoods. They've saved my life a few times already."

"From what?" Brie said, "Themselves? The TV says that they're the ones doing all the killing."

"Don't believe everything you see on TV," Jason said.

"He's right," Cookie said, "Chris didn't kill anyone and he sure as hell didn't kill my parents. His brother did."

"And you're still with him?" Brie asked incredulously, "I'm calling the police!"

"Good luck," Chris told her, "Someone has cut the phone lines outside."

Brie didn't believe him until she picked up the phone and found it dead. She may not have been particularly bright, but she knew well enough when to be scared. She looked at Cookie and wordlessly asked for an explanation.

"Jerry is killing all of us off," Cookie explained, "everyone who was there that day when we framed him."

"He can't do that!" Brie exclaimed, thinking it impossible that anyone would dislike her, "We didn't do that much to him."

"It might not have been much to you," Chris said with a cold voice, "but it was one of the worst things ever to happen to him."

"It doesn't matter now," Cookie said, flashing a harsh look at Chris, "What matters is that he's probably here and he wants to kill you."

"Me?" Brie said, "Why me?"

"He thinks you're the root of all evil," Chris explained, "he may think it's his mission to terminate you or he may just hate your guts that much. Either way you're in danger if you stay here."

"Where's your brother?" Cookie asked her, "And your mother?"

"Mom's at work," Brie told her, "my brother is probably screwing that slut down the street."

"Good," Chris said, "let's get out of here, make Jerry chase us for a change."

"Works for me," Cookie said, "put something warm on, Brie. We're taking a walk."

"You're nuts!" Brie said, "It's snowing out there!"

"It beats dying in here," Jason said, "which is what is going to happen if we stick around."

"Jason is right," Cookie said, "I'm not going to leave you here to die!"

"You're not buying this, are you?" Brie said to Cookie, "Come on?"

"I've bought it already," Cookie said, "I've seen Jerry in action. You do not want to be here for that. These two may just save your life. Don't you see what has been going on in this town?"

"C'mon, Cookie! What are they going to save me from?" Brie exclaimed, "The only thing of mine that's in danger is my reputation from having them here. Aren't you concerned about what people will say when they find out you're running around with them? And kicking people's doors in with toy guns? How juvenile can you get!"

"Brie! I don't much care what you think about them right now," Cookie almost shouted at the brain dead girl, "Don't you realize what is going on here? My Parents are dead! Andy is dead! Morton is dead! Most of the people whose respect you are looking for are fucking dead, Brie! Ripped apart by one of the people we have been looking down on for so long."

"But..." Brie said and was quickly interrupted by Cookie.

"But nothing!" Cookie yelled, "I would be dead too if it wasn't for Chris. I was tied to a chair watching my parents cut to pieces in front of me," her eyes clouded over in pain for a second, then she continued, "Chris came in and saved me from his brother. Don't try to tell me I'm crazy. I saw Jerry doing it with my own eyes. And I saw Chris come crashing through a door and take on his brother. He took a knife in the side to keep his brother from killing me!"

Brie Ross looked at her friend. Cookie was deadly serious and was about ready to cold cock her to get her out of that room. Chris and Jason just watched, letting Cookie take the lead with her old friend. Brie finally gave in and put on some warmer clothes. Chris breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's go," Chris said, "before Jerry makes it up here."

They slowly went back towards the stairs, Chris taking the lead so that if they ran into Jerry he could shoot the bastard. It was slow going still cause of Chris's leg, but for once Brie was silent and let herself be pushed along by Cookie.

Jerry heard them moving and sat up. He pulled out the hunting knife that he had used on the last few murders and smiled. He cracked the door and sat in wait, looking for an opportunity to strike.

"Where do you think he is?" Jason asked Chris.

"Waiting for us," Chris said as his eyes darted around the room.

"Which way do we go?" Cookie asked them.

"Out the front," Chris said, "we'll figure it out from there."

They almost made it to the door when Brie remembered that she had left her purse on the table. Before Chris or any of the others could stop her she rushed back into the kitchen, making the fateful mistake of going by the closet door where Jerry was hiding. There was no way Jerry was going to miss this opportunity, for he jumped out and grabbed Brie around the throat, holding her in front of him and placing the knife at her throat.

"Welcome to the party, Chris!" Jerry exclaimed, "How's the knee?"

Chris hobbled up and aimed his gun at Jerry's head. He wanted to pull the trigger, but he didn't want to hit Brie Ross by accident. Cookie and Jason pulled back and let Chris take the lead with the gun.

"Come on, Jerry," Chris said, "You've been shot twice now. Haven't you had enough yet?"

"Well," Jerry said, his evil grin back again, "Let's see. You're alive. Cookie is alive... I don't think so."

"Shoot him, Chris," Jason said, "shoot the crazy fucker!"

"No!" Cookie yelled, "He'll hit Brie!"

"Come on, Chris," Jerry grinned, "shoot me! See if your bullet can get here before I slice this little slut's throat!"

Chris was wrestling his internal demons. He wanted to pull the trigger and end it. He was reasonably certain that he could hit Jerry and not Brie. Whether he could do it before Jerry killed her, Chris did not know. He really did not want the girl's blood on his hands, regardless of how he felt about her.

While this scene was playing out inside, James Calysto was pulling up in front of the house followed closely by two black and white units. He stepped out of the car and waited for the four uniformed police officers to join him in front of the house. It took them a minute because the snow was solidly coming down now, the blizzard beginning in earnest.

"How solid is this?" one of the officers asked Calysto.

"The source was positive," Calysto said, "you two go pound on the caller's door. Brykowski, go around back and look around. Rogers, take a look out front while I go and check out the Ross house."

"Check," Brykowski nodded.

While Jim Calysto went up to the front of the house Jerry and Chris were still standing off inside the house. It was a very strange Mexican standoff, knife vs. gun. While Chris stood there with his arm trembling a bit from the weight of the gun, Jerry ran the knife slowly across the tender flesh of Brie's throat. He looked at his brother, almost trembling with the excitement he was obviously feeling.

"People like this are the enemy, Chris," Jerry reminded his brother, "you and everyone else just seemed so willing to take the shit that the popular kids dump on us. Girls like this one. And now you are hanging out with Cookie fucking Morris?"

"Well, seeing as you decided to go psycho on us and all," Chris said softly, "I figured a change in friends was in order."

Jerry looked up and rolled his eyes. Chris kept the gun leveled at his head. Jason and Cookie were waiting to see what he was going to do. Brie did not move and frankly could not move. She could not even scream.

"It's all the same, Chris," Jerry said as he looked his brother in the eyes, "nothing ever changes. You were more concerned about getting into Carrie's pants than you were about being here for me. Well, it's too late now. I'm having my revenge. The truth will set me free."

Jerry was on the edge of ranting. Chris hadn't heard him say this much in months, though he didn't much care to hear any more. Jerry was no longer his brother. He was a killer who felt no remorse and even enjoyed the pain he caused. Chris felt no remorse for thinking about wanting to kill his brother.

"The truth is that you are a cold blooded murderer, Jerry," Chris told him, the hate apparent in his voice, "You're going to go down as one of the bloodiest serial killers in existence, Jerry. Do you enjoy that? Is that what you want? Is that what you fucking want?"

Jerry thought about that for a minute and grinned at his brother.

"Not exactly the type of fame I was originally looking for," Jerry shrugged, the fatigue showing in his eyes, "But you know, now that I think about it, it will do quite nicely."

Jim Calysto picked that moment to knock on the door. Cookie and Jason looked at each other and then at Jerry. Jerry looked Chris in the eyes and smiled his very wicked smile as he touched the tip of the blade to the soft flesh of Brie Ross's throat.

"This is James Calysto from the police department!" Calysto yelled through the door, "Please come to the door!"

"It's over, Jerry," Chris said, "you can't get away this time!"

"Can't hurt to try," Jerry said and smiled.

Jerry cut through the soft flesh quickly and pushed the dying girl at his brother, who fired his weapon, missing his brother's head by scant inches because of the girl's body. The brand new wound in Brie Ross's throat spurted blood out as she fell, quickly covering Chris Healy.

The shot was heard by all of the cops, especially Jim Calysto. Calysto reared back and kicked the door just as Jerry was exiting the room. Calysto didn't have a chance to see Jerry leave, but he certainly saw Chris lowering the dying body of Brie Ross. He had his service revolver out quick and was aiming it at Chris.

"Drop it, Healy!" Calysto shouted.

Calysto could see that Chris was not about to do it and his own personal hatred for the kid took over. Jason saw that he was about to fire and by reflex used the 2x4 he was carrying to knock the gun out of the way enough to make the bullet miss Chris's head by a few inches. Cookie saw her chance and used the stake to knock it completely out of his hand.

"Get him, Chris!" Cookie yelled as she rammed into Calysto to hold him back.

Chris didn't hesitate, but followed his fleeing brother out towards the back just as Officer Rogers came up the steps to help Calysto. Jerry ran out the door and straight into Officer Brykowski, who wasn't expecting an insane mass of flesh to come flying at him with a bloody knife.

Officer Brykowski tried to draw his weapon, but Jerry was faster, shoving his knife into the officer's gut as they flew to the ground.

"Jerry!" Chris yelled as he hobbled out the door.

"Later Chris!" Jerry said, "He's all yours!"

Chris looked at the cop and knew the damage was done. He tried to follow his brother into the blizzard in which he disappeared, but Jerry was able to run a lot faster due to having both legs in working condition. Chris tried in vain to figure out which way Jerry went, but it was pointless.

He cursed silently and worked his way around the annoying neighbor's house to find out what was happening.

It did not take long for Rogers and Calysto to subdue Jason and Cookie, since neither one was particularly interested in killing a cop. They just wanted to give Chris a chance to escape and catch his brother. Luckily for Chris the other two police officers went over to help Calysto and Rogers.

"Go find Brykowski!" Calysto barked, "Find Healy too! He ran out the back!"

Chris sighed as he watched his friends get put into the police car like animals. He put the gun back into his pocket and turned away as the woman ran out of the house to yell at everyone for making such a ruckus in the neighborhood. He then disappeared out into the blizzard as the cops ran around trying to make heads or tails out of what happened.

Chapter 38: December 4, 1985, 12:47 pm

Bad Timing

Rael Gabriel and Bob Murphy pulled up in front of Gabrielle Ross's house to find an ambulance just getting there, having been delayed by the now heavily falling snow. They rushed out just as Phil Rogers directed the emergency medical technicians to the back.

"What the hell happened, Phil?" Rael said, "We were at the lab when we got the call."

"Healy was here," the annoyed cop said, "we would have had him if his friends hadn't attacked Jim."

"Which friends?" Bob asked.

"The Morris girl and another kid I didn't recognize," Rogers shrugged, "Calysto called him Brigand I think. The Healy kid killed the Ross girl and ran out the back, stabbing Brykowski on his way out."

"Did you see him do this?" Rael asked him.

"No," Rogers said, shaking his head, "Calysto said he did."

"Brykowski?" Bob asked Rael, "He'd know."

"Got the pictures from the school?" Rael asked him.

"Right here," Bob said, handing Gabriel an envelope, "I'm going to go look inside."

"Where are Morris and Brigand now?" Gabriel asked Rogers.

"Calysto put them in Horace's car and followed them to the station," Rogers said, "left Jake and me here with the mess. Been waiting for the damned ambulance for over 20 minutes."

"Jake with Brykowski?" Rael asked him.

"Yeah," Rogers nodded, "there they are."

Rael nodded and went over to them and looked at Brykowski. Luckily he was a rather large man who was not going to let a simple stabbing stop him. He was awake and alert, most likely due to the cold slowing down his system. Rael walked along side him until they were just about to the ambulance.

"How bad is it?" Rael asked him.

"It hurts," Brykowski said, "fucking insane kid got me good."

"We need to get him moving Detective," one of the EMTs said.

"In a minute," Rael said, "can you identify your attacker from a group of pictures?"

"Yeah," Brykowski nodded, "Especially if you'll catch the fucker faster with it!"

Rael nodded and showed Brykowski four of the yearbook photos. In the pile were pictures of both Chris and Jerry Healy, along with Jason Brigand and a picture of Morton Farnsworth thrown in for variety. Brykowski didn't hesitate at all, proving that the injury hadn't hurt his memory any.

"This one is the one who attacked me," Brykowski said, pointing out Jerry, "This other one went after him waving a gun. He looked at me, but went after the crazy one. I hope he caught the fucker."

The second child that Brykowski had chosen from the group was Chris Healy. Rael breathed a sigh of relief and pocketed the photographs. His faith in Chris Healy was well placed, it seemed. He could rest easily.

"It wasn't the one Calysto said it was, was it?" Brykowski said, "The one we had at the station is the one who chased the one who stabbed me."

"Jim Calysto is an idiot," Rael said, "now get to the hospital and get better. Thanks."

"You got it," Brykowski said as they loaded him into the ambulance.

Rogers looked at Gabriel in surprise and was wondering what was going on. It was no surprise to anyone that Calysto was wrong about something, but this was a high profile case that he screwed up. He followed Gabriel up to the house to ask him what this was all about.

"It's a mess," Rael said to Rogers without being prompted, "Calysto has screwed this one up since the beginning."

"If Chris Healy didn't do it, who did?" Rogers asked him, "Who's the kid in the picture."

"His brother," Rael said, "that's why Chris is still chasing him. That kid has guts a mile long."

"But Calysto said he saw..." Rogers said and caught himself, "Calysto didn't see it, did he?"

"I doubt it," Rael said, "Jim Calysto couldn't find his own ass if someone shoved his head up it."

They walked into the house where Bob Murphy was looking over at the body. He looked at Rael and sighed as he walked around to talk to the senior officer. Rael Gabriel looked at his friend and wondered what he had figured out.

"She was cut from behind," Bob said, "there's also two bullets in the wall. One up there in the cupboard, one that smacked into the wall. The first one was probably a .38 or a .22."

"Calysto fired a shot," Rogers said, "Right before the boy hit him with a 2x4."

"Good for Jason," Bob said, "he should have hit harder."

"Agreed," Rael said, "what do you think?"

"Depends," Bob said, "did Chris hit Brykowski?"

"Jerry," Rael said, "with a knife in the stomach as he flew out the door into the blizzard."

"Figures," Bob said, "we know Chris has a gun, there were a number of shots fired as Jerry departed the Caron house. I'm guessing that what we have here was the end of a Mexican standoff."

"Yeah," Rael nodded, "Cookie and Jason were only trying to keep Calysto from killing Chris."

"So where is he now?" Rogers said, "Where did they both go?"

"I'd say they're out in the blizzard somewhere," Bob shrugged, "they could be anywhere by now."

"Ok," Rael said, "I've had enough of this shit."

"Back to the station?" Bob asked.

"Yeah," Rael nodded, "I'm sick of playing cleanup boy to Calysto. You get to do it again, Bob."

"You got it, Rael," Murphy shrugged.

"Call Santiago," Rael ordered, "tell him to finish his comparisons and bring the information to the station. I'll meet him there."

"You'd better hurry," Rogers said, "it's getting bad out there. You're already going to have a hard time getting back."

"Gotcha," Rael said, "hold the fort guys. CSU will get here eventually."

Rael Gabriel left the room and ran out to his car. He managed to get it started and moving, despite the ever-increasing amount of snow. It was going to be a slow and annoying drive, but Gabriel was determined. He floored it to break through a snow bank.

"Goddamn you, Calysto!" Rael cursed as he drove through the blizzard, "Goddamn you to hell!"

Chapter 39: December 4, 1985, 2:13 pm

Jerry's Delirium

Jerry Healy pushed through the snow, mumbling obscenities the entire way. He was glad to have gotten another one of his enemies out of the way, but the cold was getting to him, as was the earlier blood loss from the wound on his arm. He had bandaged it up a bit, but it still hurt like hell, just like the graze on the side of his head did.

Jerry had been walking for over forty-five minutes, not sure where he was going. He was also frozen to the bone. He continued walking through the storm and headed towards the one place that he still found pleasing to be at, the lighthouse. He knew that he would not be able to go on very much longer and wanted to see it again.

Jerry was certifiably insane, but he was not stupid either. He knew that there was no way he was going to win this self-imposed war of his. That was not his intent. He was sick of it all and wanted to take as many of them out as he could. The fact that he made it as far as he had amazed him.

He drove himself hard through the snow and actually managed to make it to the waterfront area. He loved this area more than he did any human being, especially himself. He was also shivering from the cold wind, but he did not care. He walked out to the breakwater and climbed over the concrete edge to the first of the rocks.

The lighthouse was a quarter mile into the bay, built nearly a century before to keep ships from breaking up on the sandbar. The sandbar itself had been built up with rocks, both to double as a breakwater and to make the sandbar visible to the ships as they approached.

The wind was fierce out on the coast here, but the salt kept the snow from piling up on the rocks bad enough to make it impassible. Jerry smiled as he pushed through the wind to get to the prize at the end, the lighthouse. It was a long push, but he got there and was still mobile, amazingly enough.

He went to the side of the lighthouse that best shielded him from the wind and snow. He found a place to sit where he could look out at the bay and stay rather comfortable. He holed up and pulled his hat down tight and put his hands in his pockets, buckling down for a long stay.

After sitting at the lighthouse in the cold for a while Jerry thought about the killing that had started his personal war. He had tried to put it out of his head, not knowing how to feel about Annie Jenkins anymore. It was hard for him to believe that it had been only six days since then. It felt like so much longer as his mind wandered back to the day that his spree officially started.

Jerry Healy had been walking down a street aimlessly, enduring the cold because it was more fun for him than dealing with his brother or his parents on Thanksgiving Day. Barton Avenue was one of his favorites because Annie's house was there. It just happened to be good timing for him when he saw Annie Jenkins walking out of her house, heading to a friend's house.

Jerry, despite his dislike of everyone else in his life, still carried a torch for Annie. It all dated back to Valentine's Day when they were eleven and Jerry had not received valentine one. Annie, despite all of her friends ribbing, decided to make Jerry's day and give him one. It was the only valentine he had ever received in his entire life. It was also the only time any girl had ever looked at him with anything other than revulsion.

That Thanksgiving night he saw her walking, he was hoping to recapture some of that hope. He knew she was unattached, and he hoped that he could actually muster up the courage to talk to her.

Jerry waited until she got to the long wooded stretch to approach her. He could not remember really what he said to her, but it was enough to scare the living daylights out of her. She looked at him and it was all over.

He saw the look in her eyes that he had seen from every other girl in the school. It was more than he could take. It was the last straw for a mind that was on the edge of complete insanity. The last link Jerome Healy had to his humanity was severed that night.

The difference between a Sociopath and a Psychopath is a small one. Psychopaths are common in the world, they walk among us and are regarded as little more than a general asshole. A sociopath is actually a special subset of the psychopath diagnosis. The only thing that sets them apart is the fact that they are psychopaths who becomes criminals because of it.

Jerry Healy, who had long been an undiagnosed psychopath, became a true sociopath that night when he chased down Annie Jenkins and knocked her down onto the ground. His anger and pain came pouring out of him that night and it resulted in the brutal attack. He dragged her into the woods, still half-alive and started beating on her.

"Deny me!" Jerry remembered yelling at her as he threw her down, "I'll show you what denial is really about!"

Before long he had killed the one woman he had ever had any feelings over. Once he finished he stood there and looked at her still and bloody body. He knew he was supposed to feel remorse and regret for what he did, but he could not find it in him to do it. He walked away and cleaned his hands in the snow, making tracks home to get into another set of clothes.

Jerry Healy was the worst type of killer. It was not that he did not know it was wrong. He did. He simply did not care. He had no conscience at all and all he lived for at this point was to make everyone pay.

"Fuck you world!" Jerry said to himself as came back into the present and looked out into the bay, "Fuck you too, Chris. You want me? Come and get me! I'm staying right here."

Chapter 40: December 4, 1985, 2:46 pm

Fight the Blizzard

Chris Healy fought the blizzard in much the same way his brother did, though he was more concerned about the effects. He knew that he was in bad enough condition as it was and that an extended period out in the wind driven snow would leave his body even more damaged.

Knowing that after the mess at Carrie's house there would not be any more safe havens with friends, he decided to head towards his own house. He figured that the police would not waste people to sit in front of it during a blizzard. He did not much care at this point, knowing that he could no longer run, so he decided to take his chances.

He was thankful that the snow whitewashed him, covering up the blood that had spurted on to him when Jerry cut Brie Ross's throat. His jacket merely looked like it was a shade of crimson instead of blood red after nearly an hour in the driving snow. He didn't look normal, by any stretch, but visibility was so bad in this storm that the odds of him running into someone were very small.

His already weakened body was nearing its limit as he approached what was once his home. It had only been about forty-eight hours since he had last set foot there, but he knew instinctively that it would never be home again. He went to the back door and tried to pull his keys out, but found that his fingers were stiff and not wanting to work correctly.

Not particularly caring anymore about finesse, Chris used his body to slam into the door, breaking the ancient lock. His right leg could not handle the strain from this, however, and he went tumbling into the laundry room, right on to a pile of dirty clothes that had never been taken care of.

He was about to try to get up when he heard a little bit of motion in the house. He wondered if Jerry had made it here ahead of him and pulled out his gun, though he was barely able to hold on to it. He managed to cock the hammer and keep his finger on the trigger as he sat up a little.

"Chris?" Carrie Caron asked as she went into the laundry room, looking for him, "Is that you?"

Chris was still holding the weapon when she walked in, but dropped it quickly when he recognized her. Carrie sighed when she saw him and went over to close the door. He looked up at her, but was unable to really bring himself to say anything. She kneeled down and brushed some of the frost off Chris' face.

"Good lord," Carrie said, "you look like hell."

"Cold," Chris said, "N-need to w-warm up."

"Let's get you upstairs," Carrie said, "I've turned on the heat. I'll put you in the bathtub to thaw out."

Chris nodded absently, too cold to get any words out. Carrie helped him up and was surprised when he screamed. She had not known about the leg injury and she brushed against it. She put her arm around him quickly to steady him when she noticed that he was covered with blood.

"My god," Carrie said, "You're injured again!"

"N-not m-m-m-my b-b-blood," Chris stammered.

Carrie looked at him for a few moments and shook it off. Sighing and enduring the frozen blood on him, she helped him up the stairs and brought him into the bathroom. Chris was complying with her instructions completely by this point, as he was practically numb.

She ran some water into the tub, trying to make it as warm as possible without being scalding. Once she had the temperature right she put the plug in the drain and went to work removing the bloody clothing from Chris. Modesty was the furthest thing from either one's mind as she peeled the half-frozen layers off him.

"Who's blood is this?" Carrie asked him, "And where are the others?"

Chris was unable to answer at this point. Carrie saw that he was probably slipping into hypothermia and knew she had to get him warm quickly. She had been at the house for a while, using it much like Chris had, but arriving before the worst of the storm hit. Luckily they electricity had not been turned off yet, so she was able to heat the place up.

When she got him naked she saw just how badly injured her man truly was. He was covered with bruises and she noticed the new ace bandage on his leg. She removed all of the bandages and got him to the edge of the tub. He helped where he could, but he was quite far gone at this point. She managed to get him into the water, but despite the fact that it was rather hot, he was still shivering.

"Don't you dare go into full blown hypothermia on me," Carrie ordered him, "you have to make it through this. You are my first love, my first kiss. You'd damn well better survive to be my first lover too."

The warm water was helping him, but she was beginning to realize that it wasn't enough. His body wasn't producing enough heat to make up for what he'd lost. She continued to put warm water over him, but she was beginning to realize that he was going to need more than that.

Carrie decided to take the next step. She stripped down herself as Chris watched. His eyes were working, but he still could not quite manage words yet. When she had dropped the last of her clothes she stepped into the tub beside Chris.

"I'm going to scoot you forward and slip in behind you," Carrie told him, "let's see if this will warm you up a bit."

She was as good as her word, because she did just that, getting in behind him. Despite being immersed in hot water, Chris's skin was exceedingly cold to the touch. Despite that she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close to her, letting her body heat help him warm up.

It took a little bit of time, but Chris began to warm up again. He held her hand and just closed his eyes, trying to forget about the awful events of the past two days. She did not know everything that had happened in the time since she had seen him last, but she knew that it hadn't been good and that he needed her. She also knew that she needed him too.

Laying her chin on his shoulder she held him close and just let the warmth grow. It would be more several hours before either one of them would speak again.

Chapter 41: December 4, 1985, 3:15 pm

Evidence

Rael Gabriel made it back to the police station mainly through grit and determination. The snow was up to the fenders of the police cruiser as he pulled into the parking lot. He parked badly in a space and got out of the car, managing to avoid cursing aloud at the piling snow.

He walked in to the police station and rubbed his eyes. Rael Gabriel hadn't managed but a few minutes of sleep in the previous seventy-two hours and he looked it. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. He was a man living off coffee and stale doughnuts.

He looked around for George Santiago and prayed that the medical technician had made it here before the storm hit. Not seeing him anywhere in the lobby, he decided to feed his need for caffeine before trying to take on anyone else about Chris Healy. He walked in to the break room to find the man he was looking for and a surprise.

George Santiago was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee talking to a small dark haired woman. The woman was very well figured and very beautiful. She also looked at Rael Gabriel and smiled as he walked into the room. He smiled back, wondering why his wife was here at the station.

"What brings you here, Kelly?" Rael said as he poured himself a cup of lousy police station coffee, "You usually hate this place."

"I'm looking for you, you dolt," Kelly grinned and stood up, "you haven't been home for nearly three days now. What was I to think?"

"I'm sorry babe," Rael said and drank down a large gulp of the coffee, "this case has been a killer."

"George told me," Kelly nodded, "is it as bad as he's saying?"

"I don't know," Rael shrugged, "George? Any good word on the prints?"

"You were right," George said, "prints match. Jerry Healy is your killer, not Chris. His prints were on the weapon in Andy King's chest, not to mention all over the place at the Allen and Morris scenes."

"That's good," Rael said, "did you go to Gordon Six with it?"

"Fucker brushed me off," Santiago sighed, "he doesn't care. Jim Calysto is in there interrogating Morris and Brigand. Gordon is just watching."

"Shit!" Rael exclaimed, "What the hell do we have to do to get someone to listen around here?"

"You don't have to take this, hon," Kelly told him, "Trip Mason called personally today. He's willing to take you with just a phone interview if you want to go."

"Great," Rael said, "don't tempt me. I'm getting sick of the idiocy that's going on with this case."

"Can you go over Gordon's head?" Santiago asked him.

"Not without shooting my career in the foot..." Rael said and then thought about that, "Do you have Mason's number, Kelly?"

"Sure," Kelly nodded.

"How much of a stand up guy is he?" Rael asked her.

"My cousin says he's one of the good guys," Kelly shrugged, "you don't think he can help you with this do you?"

"No," Rael said, "but if I have a place to go regardless, I'll feel better about shooting my career here in the foot."

"You really are considering pissing in the pool here," Santiago said.

"Absolutely," Rael nodded, "this is insane. We know who did it, we know how. So what are they doing? Interrogating the wrong people and putting wants out on an innocent teenager. I've had enough."

"You sure about this, hon?" Kelly asked him, "I don't want to push you into anything you don't want to do."

"This isn't just for you," Rael said, "there's a kid out there who has been fighting to catch his brother before he could kill again. He's got the whole world against him, and we seem to be the only ones who care."

He downed the last of his awful coffee and sat down on the couch. He had never seen such an unprofessional display in his life. Kelly sighed, sat down with him and pulled out the telephone number that Trip Mason had given her earlier in the day.

"Make the call," Kelly told her husband, looking into his eyes, "Do the right thing for those kids and see if you can end this before anyone else gets hurt."

"I'll back you to the end, Rael," George Santiago told him, "they can't do anything to me for showing evidence."

Rael looked at his wife and at George Santiago. He never thought it would come to this, but he picked up the phone and dialed the number. He was surprised when he heard a gruff male voice answer.

"Mason here," Trip Mason said over the line.

"My name is Rael Gabriel," he told the older cop, "I'm told you called for me?"

"Oh," Mason said, sounding surprised, "I'd almost given up on you. So are you interested in the job?"

"I could be," Rael told him, "but there's a situation I'm dealing with first."

"Kelly told me yesterday about that case," Mason said, audibly blowing smoke over the mouthpiece of the phone, "How bad is it?"

"That's what I'd like to talk to you about," Rael said, "I've got a few questions I'd like to ask you about the position, and a few things I need to know regarding what I'm doing here now."

"Go on," Trip Mason said, wondering what this was leading to.

Rael Gabriel spent the next thirty minutes talking with Tripton Mason, who was very impressed with the officer. He had already planned to make the offer, but after speaking at length with Rael he was very impressed. He also understood what Rael Gabriel was going through.

"Do what you have to do to save that kid, Rael," Mason said, "if it costs you your job there, you've got one here whenever you're ready. I promise you that."

"Thanks," Rael smiled, "looks like it's time to piss in that pool."

"Good luck," Mason said, "hope to see you soon."

"Right," Rael nodded and put the phone down, "looks like we're covered."

"Let's do it," Santiago said, "Chief?"

"Yeah," Rael nodded, "Kelly, you sticking around here?"

"Think I can get out in this storm?" she asked while chuckling softly, "I'll stick for moral support."

"Let's go," Rael said and headed out of the room, followed by Kelly and George Santiago.

Chapter 42: December 4, 1985, 4:25 pm

Last Respite of the Weary

By the time the water began to lose its heat Chris Healy's battered body was beginning to produce heat of its own again. Carrie slid out of the tub first, drying off a little, before helping Chris out of the tub. She could see that his knee was bad, so she gave him some support.

"Where to?" Carrie asked him.

"My bedroom is probably the safest place," Chris said, "I don't want to think about what the living room looks like."

"Pretty bad," Carrie nodded as she helped him dry off, "the whole place looks like a wreck."

"I'm not much better," Chris sighed, "it's been a bad day so far."

Carrie nodded. She had not heard the news officially or from Chris yet, but she knew that her brother had died. She had not made it but a half-mile away from the hospital when she felt the bond she shared with her brother abruptly break. It was so sudden that she nearly threw up, but she kept on going until she reached the house. She knew that Chris was the only one who could answer the questions and figured that he had nowhere else to go.

Using Carrie's shoulder to keep himself upright, Chris managed to get into his bed, where Carrie decided to join him. Despite the heat being on, the wind and cold temperatures outside were still leaving the house a bit on the cold side. She curled up with him and looked into his eyes, which were focused properly again.

"Is your father ok?" Chris asked her finally, trying not to talk about Tommy.

"They tried to save him, but there was too much damage," Carrie said, tearing up a little again.

"I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what to say.

Chris looked at Carrie and felt like he was responsible for the loss that she had endured. Carrie knew that he would feel that too, but she did not blame him for any of it. She blamed the one person who had made it all happen, Jerry Healy. She still loved Chris with all her heart and intended to help him as much as she could.

"I know he's gone, Chris," Carrie said softly, "how did it happen?"

"It happened fast," Chris sighed, pulling her close and hugging her tightly, "It started up in the catwalk area at the park. We tracked him to the storage rooms up there. I went in without thinking about it and Tommy was behind me. Jerry smashed my knee with a bar and damn near killed me."

"Tommy saved you?" Carrie asked him.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, his mind reeling from events that happened only a few hours before, "Jerry fought back and knocked him aside. Cookie was the next one my brother saw, so he made a beeline for her."

"Did he get Cookie too?" Carrie asked, wondering how many people she had lost that day.

"I tripped him," Chris said, "trying to keep him back. It backfired. Jerry fell forward and sent Cookie over the fucking railing."

"God," Carrie said, not liking the sound of it, "And he wins again."

"Not exactly," Chris said, "but it sure did piss your brother off though. He tore after Jerry like a demon possessed."

"Not surprising," Carrie told him, smiling slightly, "Evidently he and Cookie had sex last night."

"Say what?" Chris said, looking at her, "What makes you say that?"

"Detective Gabriel actually," Carrie said, "he found evidence of it in Tommy's room and asked me."

"That explains a lot," Chris sighed, "he tore after Jerry into the woods. Jason came back for me and helped me up there. We were stopped by a ranger while your brother went into the woods."

"He fought Jerry alone, didn't he?" Carrie sighed, "He wasn't a match for that lunatic."

"Jerry beat him badly," Chris nodded, "the sadistic fucker threw your brother over the side of the cliff when he was done."

"That's what I felt," Carrie sighed, "I must have felt the impact when Tommy hit the bottom."

"I'm sorry," Chris said, fighting off tears at this point, "I'm so sorry."

"You're lucky you were able to get there at all on that knee," Carrie noted, "How did you get out of it?"

"Cookie," Chris replied, "she survived the fall into the ocean and made it back up to retrieve my gun. She was nearly blue when she got to us, but she still managed to hit Jerry in the arm and send him over the side."

"It's over?" Carrie asked hopefully.

"I wish," Chris sighed, "she just wounded him. He went over the side, but not like Tommy did. He got away yet again."

Chris spent the next few minutes telling her the rest of what happened, about how the ranger saved their asses for them to lose against Jerry again. He was dejected and did not know how to deal with it. It was like being a last place baseball team with no hope for the pennant.

"I'm alone again," Chris said, "Jerry is still out there, though if we're lucky he's freezing his ass off in the storm."

"You're not alone," Carrie said, looking into his eyes, "I'm here and I'm not going to leave you again."

"What the hell am I doing, Carrie?" He asked her, "I have no business trying to stop him. I seem to be doing better at getting people killed than saving them. How the hell can I stop him?"

She kissed him softly and held his hand close to her, feeling the pain that was holding on to him and wanting to make it all go away.

"You did the best you could, Chris," Carrie reassured him, "you're a decent guy and I love you for it. You're a hero to me. I don't know of anyone else that would have kept on fighting like you have in this situation. Most people would have just stayed with the police and let Calysto fuck it up. You can do it, Chris. We can do it. Just believe in yourself, and we'll get him. It's only been bad luck so far."

"Only kind I've seemed to have as of late," Chris sighed, "I'm beginning to wonder if there's anything else."

"There is," Carrie said as she kissed him, "I think we can prove that."

She looked under the sheet and saw what was poking her in the leg and started giggling. The ill effects of his walk seemed to be wearing off, and his body was reacting to having a naked woman next to him. He blushed a little and smiled at her.

"Since you seem to be alive and well again, my dear," Carrie said with a smile, "I think your luck is about to change."

And change it most certainly did. Gone were the pretenses of propriety and the desire to be good and wait. They both knew that this was the only time they had. They both knew that Chris was going to go against his brother again and that there was a very good chance that he would not survive it.

It was a touch and go operation because of Chris's broken right knee, but they managed to get him in a position that wouldn't hurt. They wanted and needed each other that afternoon and they took comfort together. She held on to him tightly as he slid into her, and they made love for a while, fumbling their way through it.

Neither of them had the experience to know whether they were doing any of it right, but they both knew instinctively what the other one needed and wanted. It actually took quite a bit of time for them to complete the act, mainly due to the logistical problems arising from Chris's physical condition.

By the time they finished they were both completely spent physically, but somewhat recharged emotionally. Chris and Carrie held each other quietly in the solemn darkness of the house while they listened to the wind and snow fly around outside. They looked at each other and held close, basking in the afterglow.

"Can we stay here forever?" Carrie asked Chris quietly, "Just holding close and forgetting that your brother ever existed?"

"Nothing lasts forever," Chris said sadly, "but you'll be in my heart always."

"I guess I can live with that," Carrie agreed, "we have at least until the storm ends."

"Right," Chris nodded, "we definitely have that long. I'm not going out in that slop again."

"Good," Carrie sighed, "we have some time then. This is going to go on for at least a few more hours."

Chris nodded silently and kissed her forehead. He tried to empty his mind and let himself be surrounded by the moment where he was. It did not completely work for him, however. As much as he wanted to clear his head of everything but him and Carrie, he couldn't. He had a dark cloud hanging over him, a cloud named Jerry Healy.

Chris Healy knew it would not be truly over until Jerry was dead.

Chapter 43: December 4, 1985, 4:32 pm

Fresh out of Chlorine

Rael Gabriel went up to Chief Craig Bean's office, followed closely by his wife and George Santiago, who was carrying a case full of evidence that went along with the case. Rael looked at them as they approached the door and saw support from Kelly, as well as determination from Santiago.

"All right," Rael told them, "here we are. It's all or nothing time. I'm going to go all the way with this."

"You prepared to go to the mayor?" George asked him, "If Bean spurns the evidence too?"

"No," Rael said firmly, "I don't plan on going anywhere else. If I have to do that, I'm going to the press. This is getting out one way or another."

"Do what you have to do," Kelly nodded, seeing the look of determination in Rael's eyes, "I'm behind you."

"Wait here," Rael told her, "I'll be out in a bit."

Rael and George went up to Chief Bean's office and walked past the secretary, who stood up quick and tried to stop them. Both men ignored the comely young woman's pleas and walked in to the Chief's office to find him sitting there meeting with a very annoyed looking Captain Gordon Six.

"What are you doing here, Gabriel?" Six asked him, "You're supposed to be out taking care of the crime scenes."

"I'm here to set some things straight," Rael said with no real expression apparent on his face, "Bob Murphy is doing the cleanup. I've been doing my job."

"Your job is what I tell you," Gordon Six seethed.

"Sit down Gordon," Chief Bean said, "what are you talking about, Gabriel?"

"The fact that they're hunting the wrong kid," Rael said, "Chris Healy is innocent."

"Bullshit," Gordon Six said, "if he's so innocent then why did he escape?"

"To get away from that idiot you had interrogating him," Gabriel growled, "Jim Calysto doesn't have enough sense to buy a lollipop. He could have had the information I have now two days ago, but he wouldn't listen."

"You're full of shit," Six said, "Calysto walked in on Chris Healy with the murder weapon."

"Sure, the weapon for one of the crimes," Rael said, "A weapon that no one saw him use. I have print and forensic evidence against his brother Jerry from all of them."

"Say what?" Bean said, jolting upright, "You're sure about this?"

"Dead sure," George Santiago put in, putting his case on the table, "Forgive the pun, but I can get you a dead sure conviction on Jerome Healy with just what I have in this box."

"Then where is Chris Healy?" Gordon Six added, "Why did he escape and why does he keep showing up?"

"He's chasing his brother because he knows we aren't," Rael explained, "Carrie Caron told me that flat out at the hospital."

"What were you doing there?" Six asked him.

"Interviewing a rape victim," Rael lied, figuring that it wouldn't hurt anything, "Teacher from Promitter high, which is the same place that all those kids go to school. Jerry Healy was suspended for groping her at the beginning of this school year. She positively identified her attacker as Jerry Healy."

"What have you got to say to that?" Chief Bean asked Gordon Six.

"Chris Healy killed Gabrielle Ross and stabbed Brykowski," Six countered, "Jim Calysto was a witness to that one."

"Unless Chris Healy is a contortionist there's no way he killed Gabrielle Ross," Rael Gabriel replied, smiling, "The knife wound was made by someone who was standing behind her. Rogers saw Chris Healy lowering the body from the front."

"What about Brykowski?" Chief Bean asked Gabriel.

"I showed him the photo array," Rael said, handing five photos to him, "He identified Jerry as the attacker."

"They're brothers," Gordon Six shrugged, his eyes filled with hatred for Rael Gabriel, "This is asinine."

"Then why did he identify Chris as coming out after Jerry?" Rael asked him, "Goddamn it, Gordon. Think with that puny little brain of yours for once! You've spent the last three goddamn days looking for a way to sweep this under the fucking rug! Well, here's the evidence and now we have a real killer to look for!"

"What about those kids downstairs?" Chief Bean asked them, "Think they'll be able to shed some light on this?"

"They should," Rael nodded, "they've been present for most of it."

"Chief..." Gordon said and then stopped himself.

"I think we should talk to them," Chief Bean said, annoyed that he had to do this, "Don't you, Gordon?"

Rael smiled at that. He knew he had won on the evidence, but it was obvious that he had created a serious enemy in Gordon Six. He couldn't really say that he cared very much. After talking to Trip Mason he had all but decided to take the job with him anyway. He just had to conclude this mess before anything else.

Craig Bean had been having serious doubts about the case for a while, but he had had no reason to doubt the fact that Gordon Six had it under control. This new evidence troubled him, but he had hired Rael Gabriel several years earlier and knew that he was a good detective. He also knew Jim Calysto's less than stellar reputation.

The mayor had been breathing down his neck for days, and he kept pushing for answers out of his detectives. Craig Bean just prayed that he was not responsible for the gross injustice he was beginning to see had happened. He sighed and wondered just how bad this was going to turn out to be for the department.

They all went down to the interrogation rooms where Calysto was still barking at Cookie Morris, who was sitting handcuffed in front of a table. Jim Calysto was not interrogating her as much as he was shouting and badgering her. Rael looked through the window and looked back at Gordon Six.

"You call that interrogation?" Rael asked them, "Calysto shouldn't even be in there. It is unprofessional interview a suspect accused of assaulting you."

"Get him out of there," Chief Bean instructed Gabriel, "Jesus Christ, Gordon. How long has he been badgering that child?"

"He's doing his job," Gordon Six shrugged.

"Interrogating people accused of assaulting him?" Rael asked, "That's not doing his job, that's irresponsible police work."

"I hardly think..." Gordon started before Rael interrupted him.

"I wouldn't brag about that, Gordon," Rael said, "you haven't thought about a goddamned thing since this mess started! You just wanted to sweep it under the rug and lock Chris Healy away without another thought to the goddamned truth!"

"That's enough, Gabriel," Bean said, not wanting to see this fight, "Gordon, put a leash on your attack dog."

"This is still my case, sir," Gordon Six said, making his biggest miscalculation of the day, "Jim Calysto's methods are crude, but they get the job done."

"It was your case," Bean said firmly, "it isn't any longer."

"What?" Gordon Six asked, surprised.

"I'm taking it over," Chief Bean told him, "Rael, go in there and shut him up."

"You can't do this!" Captain Six exclaimed, "It isn't done that way!"

That statement pissed Craig Bean off more than anything else Gordon Six had done that day. Bean had been in the department for over thirty years and had never seen a case so badly mismanaged. He had to stop himself from physically pushing the arrogant Captain against a wall.

"I'm doing it this way," Bean said softly, yet with enough power to make Six wince, "Your presence is no longer required here, Gordon. You can go home for today."

Gordon Six considered saying something else, but decided against it. He had too much respect for his own ass to risk it any further over a case that was a no win situation. He left the room and left Gabriel and Bean standing there. Rael saw that the older cop was ready to take charge, and after several maddening days, he was glad of it.

"Get that idiot out of there," Bean instructed Rael, "I'll talk to him. You talk to the girl."

Rael nodded and walked into the interrogation room, a wide smile on his face. He looked at Jim Calysto, who had just turned around and saw him. Gabriel savored the moment that he'd been waiting for since Gordon Six had pushed him to the background.

"What are you doing here?" Calysto asked.

"Chief Bean wants to talk to you," Rael said and then smiled at Cookie, "you ok there, kid?"

"Get this asshole away from me and I might be," Cookie growled.

"I ought to..." Calysto started and thought seriously about belting the girl.

"You ought to go talk with the Chief," Rael suggested sternly, "he's waiting outside."

Calysto looked at Gabriel and then looked at the mirrored window. Calysto and Gabriel had known each other for enough to know when the other was bluffing. Rael Gabriel was no longer bluffing. He honestly didn't give a damn what Calysto or anyone else in this department thought.

"I'll talk to you later," Calysto said to Cookie as he went to the door, "count on it."

"Not if I can help it," Rael said after he left, "I hope he wasn't too rough on you."

"Not really," Cookie said as her eyes bored into Gabriel, "you must be Gabriel."

"Yep," Rael nodded, "Carrie and Jason tell you about me?"

"Tommy actually," Cookie said, "I hope you're smarter than your friend there."

"I certainly try to be," Rael nodded, "I certainly listen better."

"Then you may actually hear the truth," Cookie sighed, "If you actually care enough to know."

"Jerry Healy killed those people," Rael said, "I have proof of that."

"About time somebody figured it out," Cookie sighed, "we've been running around for days trying to stop him."

"What happened?" Rael asked her.

"Are you ready to listen?" she asked him.

"Yes," Rael nodded, "the chief is outside this room, probably chewing out Calysto now. It's my turn. I actually want to hear what you have to say."

"Ok," Cookie sighed, "Here goes..."

While Rael was beginning to talk to Cookie Morris, Jim Calysto and Craig Bean began discussing what had gone wrong on this case. George Santiago was there to make the same evidence presentation he did before, but Calysto was even more bullheaded than Gordon Six was, mainly because he wasn't as much interested in saving his ass as he was in getting back the kids who'd made him look like idiots.

"What is going on here?" Calysto asked the Chief, "Why is Rael taking this over?"

"Because while you and Gordon had your thumbs up your asses he got evidence that proved you were wrong," Bean told him, "I hope you haven't made any long term career plans, Jim."

"Chris Healy is a killer!" Calysto exclaimed, annoyed that the chief even doubted his work, "I saw him killing Gabrielle Ross with my own eyes."

"What you saw was him lowering the body after it was pushed at him," Santiago said, "I talked to Bob Murphy on the phone. There's no way that Chris Healy could have killed her from the front with that wound on her throat."

"Come on, Chief!" Calysto exclaimed, "You can't be buying this crap. These two here have been aiding and abetting a murderer for days. They lied to us numerous times to the point of hiding a fugitive while we talked to them downstairs. These kids are guilty, Chief."

"That's enough Jim," Chief Bean said, "go on home for today. It's been a long week for everyone. Let Rael take the questioning for a while."

"Is that an order?" Calysto bristled.

"Right now it's a request," Bean said, trying to remain diplomatic, "If I have to make it an order it will most likely become a suspension."

"Fine," Calysto said, fuming, "Just don't keep me on the sidelines."

"I'll call you if I need you," Bean said, though it was perfectly apparent that he was not going to do so, "That will be all."

Jim Calysto stormed out of the room and went to find out where Gordon Six had gone. Craig Bean and George Santiago looked at each other and then at Kelly Gabriel, who was standing in a corner watching the whole display. Bean realized that he had no idea who the woman was.

"Who are you, anyway?" Bean asked her.

"Kelly Gabriel," she said, "I came in to find out where my husband had been hiding for the past few days."

"Oh," Bean nodded and sighed, "this is one unholy mess."

"It's going to get worse once the public finds out just how bad it was," Santiago said, "and Jerry Healy is still out there, don't forget that. We know it's him, but there's no clue where he is."

"Well," Bean shrugged, "Let's see how good Rael is with these kids."

Bean, Santiago and Kelly Gabriel watched Rael spend the next hour getting the same story, the truth finally, from both Cookie Morris and Jason Brigand.

In sixty minutes worth of talking Rael Gabriel got more out of both of them than Jim Calysto had been able to put together in three days worth of investigation. Craig Bean was shaking his head sadly when Rael came out of the room.

"They are telling the truth," Rael told them, "it fits the evidence too."

"Yeah," Craig Bean sighed, "so we have Morris and Brigand. Who else is left?"

"Chris Healy is still missing, disappeared into the blizzard," Rael said, "Carrie Caron walked out of the hospital. You heard as well as I did what happened to Tommy Caron."

"Don't forget about Jerry," Kelly reminded them, "unless I've missed something, he's the one you need to worry about."

"Right," Bean said, "any ideas on that, Rael?"

"First off change the APB," Rael said, "get the heat off Chris Healy."

"Why?" Bean asked him, "You don't want him brought in?"

"I think he knows his brother better than we do," Rael said, "he's been ahead of me every step of the way. There's a chance that if we let him go alone he might succeed in stopping him before we do."

"That's a dangerous game, Rael," Santiago said, "what if he gets himself killed out there?"

"He's done a better job than we have," Rael reminded him, "he also has an advantage that we don't. He knows how his brother thinks. He knows where his brother would go."

"If that's the case, find him," Bean said, "let him help you, but don't leave him on his own."

"It's a moot point guys," Kelly said as she went over to a window, "none of us are going anywhere until this snow lets up."

"She's right," Rael said, "I barely got here through the snow. Until the plows can clean some of that slop off, we're stuck here."

"All right," Bean sighed, "let's go ahead and get those kids out of cuffs. I want their statements prepared and their parents called."

"Adam Morris was killed days ago," Rael reminded him.

"Tim Morris is still alive," Bean shrugged, "it'll give him something useful to do other than chew my ass over his brother's murder."

"They are still charged with assaulting a cop," Santiago said, "sure you want to free them?"

"Yes," Bean said, "hell, I envy them. I wouldn't mind hitting Calysto either. Get things in order and put out the APB on Jerry Healy. I'm going to try to start damage control. It's your case now, Gabriel."

"About time," Gabriel said with relief, "I'll get the job done."

"If that snow ever lets up," Kelly said.

There was a general agreement as they looked out the window at the ever-piling snow. Nothing was going to be done by any of them until they could actually leave the police station, something that was not going to happen for a while.
Chapter 44: December 4, 1985, 8:47 pm

The Last Storm

Chris Healy woke up after a while to hear that the wind had died down finally. The sound of a snowplow scraping the street out front was the impetus he needed to know it was time to get up and rejoin the fight. He tried to sit up a little, but Carrie was laying there still sleeping.

"Just a few more minutes, 'kay?" Carrie said dreamily as he tried to move.

"It's not safe anymore, kiddo," Chris told her, "snowplows are moving. Storm is over."

"Shit," she said softly and woke up, "we can't stay any longer?"

"You want to be caught without clothes on if Jerry shows up?" Chris asked her.

"I guess not," Carrie sighed, "so what do we do?"

"Let's get dressed and decide," Chris said, "he's out there somewhere. We just have to figure out where."

"Sure," Carrie nodded, "let me bind up that leg again so you can walk."

Much as neither one of them wanted to leave, they both knew that it was time to go and get it over with.

During much of the time they were resting Chris was thinking about where to go next. He thought about how Jerry had looked at Brie Ross's house. He had looked tired, which was appropriate. Despite the fact that he was seriously insane his body was still human.

"Carrie," Chris said as she wrapped up his right knee, "when I saw Jerry earlier he looked ragged. His arm wasn't bandaged and he probably hadn't slept in longer than I had."

"So?" Carrie shrugged, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"He ran into the blizzard like I did," Chris said, "the only reason I couldn't catch him was this leg. So where would he go?"

"Well," Carrie said, thinking about that, "We know he didn't come here. My place is empty, and most of his enemies are gone. He might be able to hit Jason's parents, but the cops have Jason so there would be no point."

"Let's assume for a moment that he's as bad off as I was," Chris said, watching her finish the ace bandage wrap, "This is Jerry, he's hurt, he's cold and nearing the end of his rope. Where does he go?"

"The lighthouse," Carrie said, "probably the one place on earth he still loves."

"Either that or the cave," Chris nodded, "either way, it's a place to go look for him."

"Sure we can't stay here?" Carrie grinned and then looked at Chris's face, "I know, I know. We have to go. Maybe if we're lucky we can take a vacation after this is over."

"I'll settle for walking away afterwards," Chris said, "good job on my leg, Carrie. Thank you."

"No problem," Carrie sighed, "so on to the park?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, standing up and trying his weight on his knee, "It's time to put an end to this."

"I guess so," Carrie nodded sadly, "let's get this over with."

She and Chris ventured out into the snow and found that the plows had only made a partial dent in the piles that had come down in the previous hours. They walked slowly down the street past Cashman's Store, which was still under about a foot of snow. The plows had not made it that far down the streets yet.

"Lighthouse or Cave?" Carrie asked him as they walked.

"Cave," Chris said as he thought about it, "better shelter for him."

"If he could get in to it," Carrie said, "it was probably frozen over quickly."

"It's on the way anyway," Chris shrugged, "let's just hope we can get there without attracting any attention."

"Well," Carrie grinned, "you no longer are covered in blood. That should help."

"Just a bit," Chris agreed.

Chris Healy was not in the mood for humor at this point. Carrie noticed the change in him quickly as Chris was not the same boy she had been dating for months. It was a marked change in his personality, something that usually only happened to professional soldiers or policemen. Chris Healy was a hunter now, out to end a situation that had gone on much too long.

While Chris and Carrie were heading towards the park they walked by the house of a former police officer by the name of Jarrod Niston. Lt. Niston had retired some ten years before after a bank robber's bullet had destroyed his right knee. Missing the job as he did, he tended to watch the news and keep an eye out for fugitives, though he rarely found any.

That particular winter night, however, his luck changed and he saw the most wanted fugitive in the city walk past his window. He had to do a double take to recognize Chris Healy from his photo, but he was certain that it was the same boy. Like any good ex-cop he went straight to the telephone and called the police department.

"Police department," the operator's voice said, "how can I help you?"

"Chris Healy just walked by my window," Niston told them, "strolling down the street without a care in the world."

"Where are you, sir?" the operator said, knowing this was a hot case, "Address and phone number please."

Jarrod Niston gave his address and phone number and was let off the line quickly. The operator got up quickly and went into the squad room. Tips like this one, especially from ex-cops like Niston, were among the best tips for the detectives. She stood up and went up to her manager.

"What's this?" he asked her.

"Healy tip," she said, "hot one. An Ex-Cop named Niston just saw him."

"I'll get it to Calysto," he said, "thanks."

She nodded and went back to her phone. The manager looked at the tip and walked out into the squad room. He didn't know that Jim Calysto had been removed from the case, so he looked for Calysto.

Jim Calysto was sitting fuming in a corner trying to decide what to do next. He still felt strongly that Chris Healy was the bad guy, but he didn't know what to do about it. He was thinking about going home when the emergency line manager came up to him and handed him a piece of paper.

"Tip on Chris Healy's whereabouts," the manager told Calysto, "looks solid."

"Great," Calysto said, "Go ahead and give it to..."

Jim Calysto caught himself then and smiled. He knew that he had a single shot at pulling his career out of the toilet and that bringing in this kid would be it. He took the piece of paper and nodded at the operations desk manager.

"Thanks," Calysto said, "I'll take it."

Jim Calysto took off like a shot and went out the door. He was about to get into his own car when he saw Rael's car sitting in the next spot. He pulled his switchblade out and went over to Gabriel's car quickly and shoved the knife into the tire, letting its air out. He then got into his own car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Rael Gabriel was walking towards the holding area to go talk to Cookie and Jason again when he walked past the phone bank manager, who decided that he'd best share the information he'd passed on with Gabriel.

"Rael," the man said as he passed, "I just got a tip on Healy's whereabouts. Passed it on to Calysto."

That stopped Rael Gabriel in his tracks. He turned around and went back over to the manager and tapped the man on the shoulder.

"What tip?" Rael asked him, "And why did you give it to Calysto?"

"Some guy saw Chris Healy a few minutes ago," the man shrugged, "Calysto is the lead on this, isn't he?"

"Shit!" Rael cursed, "Not as of a few hours ago. Do you have an address?"

"Calysto has it," the manager said, "it was over by the beach, I think."

"Great," Rael said, "anything new comes in on this goes to either me or Chief Bean. Got it?"

"Yeah," the manager said and watched as Rael ran towards the door.

"What is it?" Kelly asked her husband as he passed.

"Calysto has a tip on Healy and left without me," Rael said, "I'm going to follow him."

"I'm going too!" Kelly said.

"No," Rael said, shaking his head, "Too risky. Stay here. I'll be back later."

He went out the door to his car and saw the tire. He growled and looked back at the door where his wife was standing. Kelly smiled at him and held up the keys to his truck, which she drove when the weather was lousy. He went back to her and she looked straight into his eyes.

"I'm going," she said as she held out the keys.

"You're staying in the truck," Rael said as he took them, "let's go."

Not knowing that the police were rapidly heading in their direction, Carrie and Chris made it to the cave and stood there looking at the healthy pile of undisturbed ice and snow that had piled over the entrance.

"So much for that bright idea," Carrie said, "If he's in there he's dead already from suffocation."

"The storm started before he left the Ross house," Chris said, "if he'd made it here there would be prints. He's somewhere else."

"Think he found a place to hole up?" Carrie asked him.

"I doubt it," Chris said, "he wasn't in good enough shape to risk that."

"Where do you think he is?" Carrie asked.

"Let's take a walk on the beach," Chris said, "I have an idea."

Carrie looked at him and wondered what he was up to. She followed him as he hobbled his way over to the retaining wall and looked out into the ocean. The weather had cleared up and it was a beautiful winter night on the Maine coast. Visibility was also very good, allowing Chris to see all the way out to the lighthouse.

"What are you looking at?" Carrie asked him.

"Gotcha," Chris mumbled, "he's out at the lighthouse."

"You can't see that far," Carrie said.

"No," Chris agreed, "but do you see the white blotch out against the black?"

Carrie strained her eyes and finally saw what Chris did. Jerry's white jacket stood out firmly against the black paint the base of the lighthouse was covered with. Carrie couldn't recognize the blotch as human, but she knew that Chris's hunches in these matters were probably better than hers.

"What are you going to do?" Carrie asked him.

"It's got to end," Chris said to her as he pulled out his gun, "he can't kill again."

Carrie nodded and sighed. She was a pacifist by nature and didn't want to think about such things, but she knew Chris was right. She had seen the bloodlust in Jerry's eyes and knew that he would never stop unless he was dead.

"Let's go," Carrie said, "let's end this."

"You stay here," Chris told her, knowing she didn't need to see him do what he was about to do, "I can take care of this."

"Don't hesitate," Carrie reminded him, "once you have a shot, take it."

"I will," Chris promised as he climbed the stairs to walk the breakwater.

While Chris Healy was taking his final walk, Rael Gabriel pushed his truck as hard as he could to try to beat Jim Calysto. Kelly Gabriel remained silent, but gripped the truck's death handle as her husband drove as if in a race with the devil.

Jim Calysto, having the advantage in knowing exactly where he was going, made it to Jarrod Niston's place quickly. He jumped out of his car and went up to the front door, knocking like a man possessed.

"Who's there?" Niston asked through the door.

"Calysto," he told him, "Police."

"Yeah," Jarrod said and opened the door, "Here about that tip?"

"That's right," Calysto said, "which way did he go?"

"Towards the park," Niston shrugged, "I can't follow 'em, just call 'em in."

"How long ago?" Calysto asked.

"Fifteen, twenty minutes?" Niston said, "There was a girl with him, cute little brunette."

"Figures," Calysto grunted, figuring on Carrie Caron, "have the plows made it down there yet?"

"You kidding?" Niston said, "They don't go near the place until all the city streets are done."

"Can I leave this parked here?" Calysto asked him.

"Be careful son," Niston said, "good luck too."

Jim Calysto started jogging through the snow, following the dual set of footprints that Carrie and Chris had left there. He was more determined than ever to catch that kid, and he knew that the only way to do it was quickly.

Chris Healy managed to make it out to the lighthouse without his bad leg giving out on him. The right side of the breakwater was graded well enough that he was able to manage it without falling and hurting himself worse. He had the gun in his hand and was ready to use it at any sign of a threat.

He was surprised by what he did find out there, however. Jerry Healy was indeed at the lighthouse, but he looked almost dead already. He was covered with snow and frost, much like a body that had just come out of the freezer.

Chris aimed the weapon at his brother and wondered if it was even going to become necessary.

"I was wondering when you would show up," Jerry said, finally moving a little, "I've been waiting for you."

"It looks like I should have waited a while longer," Chris said, "you look like you're almost dead already."

"I'm tired, Chris," Jerry said as he managed to stand up despite the fact he couldn't feel his legs, "you've got the gun, do you have the balls to use it?"

"What do you think?" Chris asked him.

"Come on then," Jerry said, "end it. If you have the guts."

Chris looked at the dead expression on his brother's face and knew that it was over for Jerry. There was nowhere left to go and nothing left for him to do but die. Chris was debating long and hard on whether to give in to his brother. Jerry looked back and smiled the same evil smile he'd worn ever since he had started his rampage.

Chris knew that Jerry wouldn't stay docile for long. He remembered the victims of the past all too well. He remembered the look of terror in his father's dead eyes, the look of glee on Jerry's face as he slit Brie Ross's throat. He also remembered Matt Caron's plea to not hesitate. He knew he owed it to Carrie's late father to follow instructions.

"Goodbye Jerry," Chris said as he pulled the trigger.

They were both surprised when the gun clicked on an empty chamber. Chris didn't know enough about the Chief's special he was carrying to know that it only carried five rounds, the last of which was expended when he missed Jerry's head at Brie Ross's place.

Jerry Healy looked at his brother and couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Chris pulled the trigger a few more times in desperation as he looked in horror at his brother. They stood there facing off in the pale moonlight, one brother nearly dead from the cold, the other wondering what to do next.

"I guess it's not going to be that easy," Jerry said, still laughing, "What are you going to do now, throw it at me?"

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Chris said and threw the weapon at him.

While not nearly as effective when thrown, the chief's special weighed nearly a pound and a half and was solid metal. It cracked Jerry on top of the head and, while it didn't do any real damage, hurt just as if Chris had hit him with an iron bar.

"Motherfucker!" Jerry yelled and attacked his brother with a ferocity that he'd thought had burned out, "You're going to fry for that one!"

"Bring it on," Chris told his brother, ready to fight, "I can take you."

Jerry tried to land sucker blows on his brother in his injured side, but Chris was faster. Jerry once had good reflexes, but those were severely dulled by the hours of sitting there in the freezing cold. The hours Chris and Carrie had spent together at the house had recharged his batteries enough to give him an edge.

Chris punched his brother in the stomach and let off a series of right hooks that pummeled Jerry's evil grin into submission, at least for a few seconds. Jerry defended himself as best he could, but he knew that he was no longer a real match in a fair fight, so he dropped down out of the range of one of Chris's punches to get a good smash in on Chris's right knee.

"You son of a bitch!" Chris yelled as he fell down on to one of the rocks as his knee lost the ability to hold his weight.

"That makes you one too," Jerry reminded Chris as he dropped down to try to strangle his fallen brother.

Chris struggled against his brother and pushed, but Jerry had his weight on Chris's chest and managed to get a grip on Chris's throat. Chris tried to whack at the arms as his airway was blocked, but his position was bad for that. His one good chance was with his leg. Chris could tell that Jerry was straddling his good leg in an attempt to keep him down.

"Make good with god!" Jerry growled, "Because you're about to meet him!"

Chris raised his good knee and slammed it into his brother's balls as hard as he could. Jerry screamed in pain and quickly let go of his brother's neck. Chris saw that Jerry was out of balance and took the opportunity to end the fight, for what he hoped would be the last time.

Chris grabbed Jerry's jacket and pulled him backward, towards the edge of the breakwater, which was just behind his head. He used his good leg to push Jerry up and over, and Jerry did not have the ability left to fight him off. Jerry Healy went screaming over the edge of the breakwater, when his scream stopped abruptly, followed by a splash into the freezing ocean water.

Chris sighed and turned over to look into the water, hoping that it was over. He managed to get up onto his good knee and peer over into the water. It soon became apparent why Jerry stopped screaming before hitting the water. There was a big splotch of blood where Jerry had hit on his way in.

Chris looked in vain for his brother's body, but knew that it really didn't matter. The water was well below freezing and would kill anyone within minutes. He sighed and stood up, putting his weight on his good leg. He knew that his right knee was probably broken even worse now, but it didn't matter.

He looked for a few more moments and turned away from the scene. He hobbled as best he could over the wet rocks and headed back towards where Carrie was waiting for him.

It was touch and go, but the ace bandage was still tight enough to keep the knee from going out on him entirely. Carrie saw him hobbling back alone and broke out into a near run out on the breakwater.

Chris saw her and speeded up as much as he could. She made it to him and hugged him tightly, seeing the look on his face. It was not a look of joy, but a look of relief. She looked up and into his eyes and decided to ask.

"Is he?" Carrie asked him.

"I threw him into the water," Chris said, "he hit his head on the way down. They'll find him come daylight, probably."

"Good," she said, hugging him tightly, "it's over."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, still feeling numb, "it's over."

He pulled her closer and closed his eyes, trying to make the pain go away. That did not happen, as he felt something hard and heavy jam into his stomach when he hugged her tightly. He pushed her back just a little and reached down to find out what it was that was poking him.

"What's this?" Chris asked her.

"Dad's gun," Carrie said, "He told me to take it before..."

"Heh," Chris said as he pulled it out of her jacket, "I could have used it out there."

"Why didn't you shoot him?" Carrie asked.

"I tried," Chris said, almost chuckling at the irony, "but the gun was out of bullets."

"Now that's almost funny," Carrie said.

"Nothing about this is funny," Chris sighed.

"What do we do now?" Carrie asked him.

"Let's get out of here," Chris said, "the cops will find us eventually."

While Chris and Carrie began their walk back towards civilization, Rael Gabriel pulled his truck up outside Jarrod Nisten's house. He saw Jim Calysto's car parked there and looked at the house. Kelly looked at him and wondered what had happened.

"Where is he?" Kelly asked him.

"Good question," Rael said, "There's no way in hell he's still in the house."

"What now?" Kelly wondered.

"The tracks," Rael said, looking at the snow, "His car couldn't make it. We can still catch the son of a bitch."

"Let's go," Kelly agreed.

Rael kicked the truck into gear and started ramming his way through the snow that was too deep for a normal car to drive though. It was slow going, but he was making progress much faster than Calysto could on foot. Kelly just looked at the determined expression on her husband's face.

Jim Calysto was finding out that the going was slow his own way. He finally made it to the cave and looked at the set of footprints. Carrie and Chris had spent a few minutes there. Calysto was tired, but determined. He rested for only a few more moments before following the tracks again.

Chris and Carrie finally made it back to solid ground and started making their way away from the water, hoping to find somewhere warmer to sit down. The pain in his right knee was getting worse by the minute and Carrie could tell.

"There's a bench over here," Carrie said, becoming more of a crutch for him, "Let's get you seated."

"Snow," Chris said as she helped him sit down, "pack some on there it'll deaden the pain a little."

"All right," Carrie said, "stay put. I'll get some for you."

Carrie walked out a bit from the bench towards the drift that had gathered on the rise in the old military parade yard. She was not expecting any trouble, so she was taken by surprise when a dark, wet, form came barreling over the retaining wall and started running towards her.

"Hello Carrie!" Jerry Healy, his head bloody and his body slowly heading towards hypothermia, yelled when he got close to her.

"Shit!" Chris said and managed to get to his feet, aiming the pistol at Jerry. He wanted to fire at him, but didn't think he could manage it without hitting Carrie by accident.

Carrie tried to run, but slipped into the snow and was grabbed quickly by Jerry, who managed to pull her up a little bit.

"Hold still," Jerry growled as he held the knife close to her throat, "I've got a surprise for you, bitch!"

"Jerry!" Chris said as he held the pistol out, "Let her go!"

"Yeah," Jerry said, his teeth chattering from the cold water all over his body, "Right. I think I should cut her throat."

"You've done enough of that," Chris said.

"Shoot him, Chris," Carrie said, whimpering a little, "Shoot the crazy bastard!"

"Shut up!" Jerry roared, "You never did understand!"

"I don't want to," Chris said, his voice like ice, "Now let her go."

"It was so easy for you!" Jerry raged, "You always were better. You got the grades, you got the respect!"

Jerry looked around, his insane mind taking in his surroundings as his senses let go a bit from the excessive cold. He looked at Carrie and remembered the jealousy he felt when his brother first started dating her. Chris just looked his brother dead in the eyes.

"You got the girl..." Jerry said, "You got everything. I got the shaft. Well now you know what it feels like!"

"I know you're fucking insane," Chris said, his hand no longer wavering, "Now let her go and we'll finish it."

"You going to throw it at me again, Chris?" Jerry said, "That worked real well last time."

"Shoot him, Chris," Carrie said softly.

"This one is loaded," Chris said, "it's over."

"It's never over!" Jerry yelled, "It's not over until I'm dead!"

"That can be arranged," Chris said coldly.

Jerry was about to reply when the advancing hypothermia caught up to him, causing his body to convulse a little in an attempt to get warm. Carrie saw the opportunity and pushed his hand away and elbowed him in the stomach. She rolled away and left the way open for Chris to fire.

"Shoot him!" Carrie yelled as she tumbled.

Chris Healy didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger and the powerful .45 roared, sending a slug into Jerry Healy's right shoulder. The shoulder was completely destroyed and he dropped the knife into the snow. Jerry staggered back, but amazingly didn't fall completely. He just looked up at his brother.

"Any last words," Chris asked his brother.

"Go to hell," Jerry snarled, knowing that he was about to die, "I'll be waiting."

Chris pulled the trigger repeatedly, this time hitting the mark perfectly. The first slug caught Jerry Healy in the middle of the stomach, sending him doubling over and moving backwards. The second one was a little bit higher, hitting him in the chest. The third and fourth ones hit the upper chest, while the fifth one was the final shot, entering Jerry Healy's forehead and sending his lifeless body collapsing into the white snow, which soon turned crimson with his blood.

"You first," Chris mumbled as he looked at his brother's fallen body.

Carrie breathed a sigh of relief as she looked at Jerry's body on the ground. She looked up at Chris, who was holding the empty weapon in an outstretched hand. She wanted to get up and go to him, but she wasn't sure that it would help. He was just standing there, looking at the proof positive that Jerry was dead.

Jim Calysto, who was panting from his running, saw Chris Healy standing there with the gun and pulled his own. He had heard the shots and ran quickly towards them. Carrie saw him coming, but was unable to say anything before Chris turned around and saw the incensed policeman come towards him

"Perfect," Chris said, almost chuckling, "I kill the devil and here comes his minion."

"Put it down, Healy," Jim Calysto exclaimed, "drop the gun."

"Or what?" Chris said, looking at Calysto with eyes that looked almost lifeless, "You going to shoot me?"

"If I have to," Calysto said with determination.

"That doesn't scare me Calysto," Chris said hollowly, "it doesn't matter what happens to me now."

"Chris," Carrie said, "Please..."

"Drop it now," Calysto said as he heard a truck engine roaring to a stop behind him, "I won't ask you again."

"I have nothing, Calysto," Chris said as he stared at the police officer, "you see that bloody corpse behind me? That was once my brother. I just had to shoot him, and I'm not really sure I like the fact."

"Calysto!" Rael Gabriel yelled as he jumped out of the truck, "Stop!"

"I've got him, Rael!" Calysto said, his body shaking a little, "I finally got him!"

"If you want to shoot me, go ahead," Chris said, something snapping in his mind, "Pull the trigger, Calysto! Put me out of my misery. You know you want to!"

"Chris!" Carrie yelled, choking back tears, "No!"

Rael Gabriel ran towards the scene and pulled his own gun, though he wasn't quite sure what he planned on doing with it. Kelly exited the truck and made a beeline towards Carrie, figuring that she would let the boys fight it out. Carrie was on her way up when Kelly reached her, pulling her back, fighting, to the sidelines.

"Come on you chicken shit," Chris said, aiming his own lifeless eyes back into Calysto's, "Be a man. Pull the trigger. Kill me now."

"Drop the gun, Jim," Rael said, looking at his erstwhile partner, "look at the facts."

"He's a killer!" Jim Calysto exclaimed, "I saw him with Gabrielle Ross! He just killed that boy over there!"

"You're right," Chris said, almost laughing, "I killed him. Go ahead, do it Calysto!"

"Take a good look at that corpse, Jim," Rael said quietly, "do you recognize him?"

"I have my killer here, Rael!" Jim exclaimed.

"That's right," Chris said, his mind becoming even more unglued, "I am. I just killed my brother, what are you going to do, Calysto?"

"Jerry Healy was our killer all along, Jim," Rael said, "come on, put the gun away."

"Please don't shoot him," Carrie cried, still fighting a little to get away from Kelly, who was holding her back still.

Jim Calysto stood there looking at Chris Healy. He saw the broken dreams of his career in that kid's appearance. Chris himself was staring at Calysto, caring less and less about surviving any longer than he had. Rael Gabriel raised his weapon and aimed it at Jim Calysto's head.

"Put it down, Jim," Rael said firmly while clicking the hammer back, "nobody else needs to die tonight."

"You'd shoot me for this kid?" Calysto asked him.

"In a heartbeat," Rael said honestly, "look at him, Calysto. He's not the enemy."

"Please..." Carrie whimpered.

Jim Calysto and Chris Healy locked eyes again. Chris was spent, both physically and emotionally. Calysto saw the truth for the first time in days. Chris Healy was not a murderer, just a kid that was pushed beyond the limits of endurance and reason. Calysto looked over at Rael Gabriel, who was still aiming his unwavering weapon at Calysto's head.

"Jesus," Calysto said softly, "what have I done?"

"It's done, Jim," Rael said, "we can't change it now, but we can keep it from getting any worse."

"Let it go, Jim," Kelly pleaded, "you don't need this."

Jim Calysto sighed and released the hammer on his pistol, putting it back into his holster. He walked away from the others and started heading towards his car. He knew there was nothing more he could gain by staying here.

Rael Gabriel walked over to Chris Healy, who looked up at him. Chris looked like he was about ready to fall over. Rael held out a hand to the beaten teenager. Chris looked back and handed Rael the empty pistol. Kelly let go of Carrie, who ran over to Chris, keeping him from falling over into the snow.

"It's over Chris," Carrie said, "we won."

"Nobody won," Chris said as he looked at his brother's still body, "it's over... but nobody won."

"You can say that again," Rael agreed as he looked over Jerry's corpse.

Jerry Healy was sprawled out on his back, his evil eyes staring up into space. His killing spree had come to an end with many lives lost, the last of them being his own.

No one would ever know what had triggered his spree for sure, as the answers to that had died along with him.

Chris Healy was right about one thing that night. Nobody had won anything from this fight.

Chapter 45: December 5, 1985, 11:23 am

Pyrrhic Victory

Rael and Kelly Gabriel sat together outside a hospital room, looking in on Chris Healy who was under sedation and sleeping as he recovered from the horrendous physical injuries inflicted on him by his brother over the three days they were out fighting each other.

"He's lucky to be alive you know," Kelly said, "anyone else who went through something like that would probably be dead right now."

"I know it," Rael sighed, "especially considering how little he has to show for it."

"Is anybody coming for him?" Kelly asked, "The nurse said he'd had no visitors yet."

"Not likely he will," Rael said, "I looked up his records last night. He doesn't have anyone left. Jerry Healy was his last living blood relative. There's nobody else."

"He's lost it all," Kelly sighed, holding on to her husband's arm.

"He has the tattered clothes he was wearing when he was brought here last night," Rael said, "once the news hit the wire about what really happened, the locals burned down the Healy house."

"To the ground?" Kelly asked, surprised, "In this weather?"

"The fire department showed up and only sprayed water on the neighbors houses to keep it from spreading," Rael said, "it's nothing but a pile of cinders now."

"So what happens to him now?" Kelly wondered, "I'm surprised that Carrie isn't at least with him."

"Janine Caron put the kibosh on that," Rael shrugged, "when she found out what really happened she went ballistic. When she woke up this morning and found out that her husband and son were dead because of Jerry she packed Carrie up and left town. Carrie didn't want to go, but she had no choice."

"I can't blame Janine for that," Kelly said, "wouldn't you want to do the same?"

"I don't know what I'd do in her shoes," Rael admitted, "I hope that I'll never find out."

Kelly nodded and looked in the room again. They were surprised when a doctor came behind them and tapped on Rael's shoulder. He was an older man that wore the traditional white coat and stethoscope around his neck.

"Who are you?" He asked, "This is a closed floor."

"Detective Gabriel," Rael said and showed his ID, "this is my wife. We just wanted to see if he was all right."

"You're the ones who came in with him last night?" the doctor said, "I'm sorry, Detective. Didn't realize you'd be back today. He's not ready to talk to anyone yet. He'll probably be sleeping for at least six more hours, if not more than that."

"How bad were the injuries?" Kelly asked him.

"The knife wound was still clean and not life threatening," The doctor said, "whoever worked on it before did a relatively clean job."

"The knee is what I was worried about," Rael said, "It looked bad last night."

"It is bad," the doctor confirmed, "the kneecap is destroyed, and the bones around it aren't far off. I'm amazed he kept walking on it as long as he did."

"Will it heal?" Rael asked.

"He'll be on crutches for a few months," The doctor said, "with enough rehab he'll walk well enough, though I doubt he'll ever run a marathon on that leg."

"And the other injuries?" Kelly wondered, "He looked like a mess."

"Numerous contusions, a cracked rib, several small patches of frostbite," The doctor said, "that kid is lucky to be alive. He'll be here at least a week, maybe more."

"What about his mind?" Rael wondered, "Will he recover that way?"

"That I can't answer," the doctor said, "I can help heal his body, but I can't save his mind."

"Any advice?" Rael asked him.

"Get him the hell out of here," the doctor shrugged, "another state, another name. Let him start over."

Kelly and Rael looked at each other, nodding. They had thought about that one, and Rael knew what he was going to do. He just had to get her to sign off on it, which was something he did not know if she was ready to do yet. Little did he know that she was thinking about the same thing.

"What do you think?" Rael asked her.

"What's going to happen to him officially?" Kelly wondered aloud.

"There's a meeting on that," Rael said, "taking place in an hour."

"Any bets?" Kelly asked him.

"There's never been a situation like this before," Rael said, "Chief Bean said that they were going to discuss the charges."

"None of those kids deserve charges," Kelly said, "they deserve medals."

"They won't get those," Rael said, looking deep into his wife's eyes, "But I may be able to get the charges dropped."

"How?" she asked him, "You planning on going over there?"

"I called Mason this morning," Rael said, "I told him that I'd take the job, but that there was something I had to do first."

"You're going to bluff them," Kelly said, "force them to let Chris out?"

"I'm not going to bluff," Rael smiled, "I'm going to threaten and if they go ahead and charge him with anything, then I will go to the press."

"I hope you cleared that with Mason," Kelly said, worried about that.

"When I told him the whole story he agreed with me," Rael shrugged, "he told me I could start in three weeks."

"Can we move that fast?" Kelly wondered.

"Probably not," Rael shrugged, "but I may have to get out of here quick. Mason said he'd pay for movers and packers."

"I stay here and close things up while you get him out of here?" Kelly wondered.

"Yeah," Rael nodded, "but I have a meeting to go to first."

"Do what you have to do," Kelly said as she looked on Chris's sleeping form, "I'll stay here in case he wakes up."

"Thanks," Rael said, "so you are willing to do this?"

"Someone has to," Kelly sighed, "I'm not going to let him hang for his brother's crimes anymore than you are."

"Good," the doctor said, "with the proper attention he'll make it through this. He'll have problems, but those can be lessened."

"Get some suggestions down on paper for me," Rael said, "if all goes well, I'll have custody within 24 hours."

"Will do," the doctor nodded, "Dr. Sefton is here somewhere and I'll have her get you some things."

"How long before he can physically leave here," Rael asked him, "so I know what timeframe I'm looking at.

"He'll be able to be discharged within a week I think," The doctor said, "after that he's going to need a few more appointments with a doctor, and probably six months or more of physical therapy on the knee."

"He can get that anywhere, right?" Rael asked.

"Any reputable hospital," he shrugged, "if he works at it he'll be fine."

"I can live with that," Rael said, "I just hope he can."

"Get to that meeting," Kelly told him, "do what you have to do."

Rael nodded and kissed her cheek before walking away. He had work to do and a meeting to get to. He also knew that if he was not careful Chris Healy would become the last victim of his brother's rampage. He felt there had been enough victims to go around already, which became apparent as he walked by the morgue.

Rael Gabriel stopped to look into the glass door of the morgue area. The city wasn't equipped to handle as many corpses as Jerry Healy produced in such a short time. The city didn't have enough freezers for everyone, so some of the bodies were still left out on stretchers.

The one closest to the door was the one who had started it all, Jerry Healy himself. Most of the corpses were covered, but he was not. Such was the fear of this kid that even his corpse was left uncovered and cuffed at both the hands and feet.

"Goodbye, you son of a bitch," Rael said as he walked out the door.
Chapter 46: December 5, 1985, 12:00 pm

Blackmail is Such An Ugly Word

Mayor Alan Toole looked at the assembled people in the room and he didn't look happy. There were many rumors going around about how badly the Healy Murder case had been handled.

Chief Craig Bean and City Councilman Darren Childress sat at the conference table, along with district attorney Roy Shields and city attorney Astrid Birdsong rounded up the discussion group.

"This is a mess, Craig," Toole said to the Chief, "your idiots have left our asses hanging out pretty far on this one."

"There could be some real liability on this one," Birdsong said, "we need to strike hard and fast now to stop the lawsuits from flying in."

"I have two of those kids hard and fast on assaulting a police officer," Shields said, "I don't know what we have on the others yet."

"The only kid who's guilty of anything is dead," Craig Bean said, "I'd go ahead and drop the other charges, because any mediocre lawyer is going to get them dropped."

"Not if we push hard enough and keep the press out of it," Childress said, "those kids could cost this city a pretty penny."

"You don't seriously think the press will lay off of this?" Bean asked them, "You've got to be kidding me!"

"This is serious, Craig," Astrid Birdsong said, "we really could be sued for Gordon Six and Jim Calysto's incompetence."

"I understand that," Bean said, "but sacrificing those kids isn't going to save us from that. I've already put Gordon Six on suspension for this mess. I had IA start an investigation on him and Jim Calysto."

"That's a good start," Toole said, "what do we have for evidence that the Healy kid actually did it?"

"Jerry Healy's prints..." Bean said when he was interrupted by Darren Childress.

"I don't give a shit about the evidence," Childress said, "we need to find a way to make this go away."

"Exactly," Birdsong agreed, "the truth doesn't matter anymore, only liability does."

This group argued the point ad nauseam for nearly thirty minutes until Rael Gabriel walked through their door. The look on his face brought pause to all of the people in the room. He brought out five folders and tossed them on the table, one in front of each one of each of the discussion's participants.

"What's this, Rael?" Chief Bean asked.

"A possible press release," Rael said tersely, "one that we need to talk about."

They all looked at him and picked up the folders, flipping through them with their jaws nearly hitting the floor as they read the complete outline of events as had been typed up by Gabriel about an hour before. It also placed the blame squarely on Gordon Six and James Calysto.

"We can't release this!" Astrid Birdsong exclaimed, "This will insure that we get sued."

"Craig," Alan said, "this is your department's work?"

"Hell no!" Bean exclaimed and looked at Gabriel, "I hope you can explain this, Rael."

"Sure," Rael said and sat down, "it's what I'm going to release at the press conference in about 20 minutes unless you get a few facts straight in here first."

"Gabriel," Bean said, "you are treading on thin ice son."

"I don't think you value your job very much," Mayor Toole said, "I hope this is some sick joke of yours."

"No joke," Rael said as he tossed another envelope to Craig Bean, "I think this will explain my position on this very clearly."

"What is it?" Childress asked Bean.

"His resignation," Bean said as he read, "effective noon today."

"What do you want, Gabriel?" Shields asked him, "If you release this I'll have you tossed in the brink."

"Do that and I'll have the ACLU on your ass so hard your head will spin," Rael smiled, enjoying this, "I'll also start talking and not stop."

"Are you threatening us?" Toole asked him, "What do you want out of this?"

"Drop the charges against Chris Healy, Carrie Caron, Cookie Morris and Jason Brigand," Rael said, "they only did what they did because Gordon and Jim wouldn't listen to them."

"That will work for Caron," Shields said, "but the others are a different story all together."

"Brigand and Morris assaulted Calysto to stop him from killing Chris Healy," Rael said, "their notarized statements are in the folder as well."

"Chris Healy is a menace," Birdsong said, "he deserves to be locked up."

"Much the contrary," Rael said, really getting outraged now, "Christopher Healy took an impossible situation and beat the odds. He was beaten, stabbed, arrested, accused of murdering his own parents, watched his best friend die and had to shoot his brother, all in the last 72 hours.

"That kid took everything that was thrown at him and kept going. If it hadn't been for him, I think we'd probably still be looking for Jerry Healy and staying a step behind the crazy son of a bitch. He did this while we were doing our best to put him in jail!

"That kid has nothing left in this world now but a broken body and enough nightmares to last ten lifetimes. His home is gone. His family is dead. He has nothing and you are trying to take away his freedom on top of it all. That kid is not going to spend a day in a jail cell if I have anything to say about it."

"None of us wants to put an innocent person be..." Mayor Toole said and was interrupted by Rael.

"Then prove it," Rael said, "drop the charges against all of them."

"That's not going to help much," Childress told them, "Chris Healy is still going to be a factor."

"What if I took him out of the picture?" Rael asked them.

"How?" Bean asked him.

"I'm fed up and am leaving anyway," Rael said, "I'll take him with me if you can push through the paperwork."

"Leaving the city?" Toole asked, "For good?"

"You got it," Rael Gabriel nodded, "Chris Healy and I go away, and so does that press release."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Birdsong started when Toole hushed her.

"Can you ramrod that paperwork, Roy?" Toole asked the district attorney.

"With the right judge I'll have the custody decree by the end of the day," Roy said, seeing the possibilities, "How soon can you have him out of here, Rael?"

"As soon as he is discharged from the hospital," Rael said, "a hospital stay that I do believe the city should pay for, due to the fact that it was Gordon's incompetence that put him there."

"Done," Toole said, pleased to be finding a way out of this mess, "If you'll get that kid out of town and let us spin the rest of it as best as possible, I think we can weather this."

"I think you'd best take your leave now, Rael," Chief Bean said, trying to hide a smile, "I think you got what you came for."

"I'll be waiting for those papers," Rael said, "and remember that if any charges are filed over any of those kids over this, that press release will be delivered to every newspaper and TV Newsroom in New England."

"Come by my office this afternoon," Shields said, "my secretary will have them ready for you then."

Rael Gabriel knew he had won and decided to take his exit. It felt good having blackmailed the brass into doing what's right. He left the room and headed back towards the hospital. He knew that Chris Healy was going to have many questions when he woke up. He wanted to be there to answer them.

Chapter 47: December 5, 1985, 9:22 pm

Nothing Left But The Pain

The rain came in as Chris looked around, seeing rain everywhere, but it wasn't rain. Not true rain. It was blood. Everything around him was turning red and he started screaming. Alas, nobody was around to hear, at least not a first.

Finally, he saw movement, but it wasn't the movement he expected. He saw the faces of the dead as their rotting corpses were moved around quickly, maggots hanging off their faces. The victims were restless, as if they knew that something was afoot.

Chris was frightened, but none of them came towards him initially. He just watched as every one of them paraded around. They were bloody again from the rain, and silent as a tomb.

Finally, there was motion under Chris's feet. He looked down in horror as the bloody dirt started flying from Jerry Healy's nearby grave. Chris looked on in horror as Jerry pulled himself out of the hole.

Jerry Healy wasn't the rotting corpse Chris had expected to see, however. He was whole, he was living and he didn't look dead anywhere except in his eyes. He was bigger, but no less malignant than he had been before. It scared the hell out of him, but Chris Healy couldn't wake up.

"Not going to welcome me back to the land of the living, dear brother?" Jerry said to Chris.

Chris was too petrified to move or to say a word. Jerry reached down in his hole and pulled out a large butcher knife, just like the ones he had favored before. Chris was still unable to move as Jerry, followed closely his minions of the dead, moved up on him. They all moved forward and Jerry was about to slash with his knife. Chris broke out of his paralysis immediately and started running. He ran as fast as he could and then suddenly he was not in the graveyard anymore.

Chris was in Cookie Morris's house again, just as it had been when he first broke in on Jerry's scene with Cookie. There were no cops, just blood and the bodies. Cookie was on the Chair screaming just as she had done that night. Chris Healy could have almost sworn he was back right at the beginning again.

Before Chris had a chance to think about it, the window shattered and Jerry jumped in, much like the psychopathic murderer in a bad slasher movie. Jerry stood up and glared at Chris with those deadly eyes of his.

At this point, they started fighting again. Chris threw Jerry over his shoulder, but Jerry was stronger than he used to be. Jerry knocked his brother a few good ones in the face before the fight became even again. Chris then kicked Jerry hard in the balls, but he did not even flinch at it this time. Jerry merely threw his brother into the wall and got the knife.

"See you in hell," Jerry said as he put the knife against Chris's stomach, "dear brother."

"I'll be waiting for you, Jerry," Chris said bitterly, "you'll be back."

With a smile in his eye, Jerry rammed the knife into the soft flesh of Chris's stomach. Instead of the pain he expected to feel from the knife, Chris sat up quickly in the sterile white hospital bed to feel his leg throb from the shift in position. He did not quite scream, but it took him a minute to figure out where he was.

"Chris," Rael Gabriel said, putting down the pile of paperwork he was looking over, "You all right there?"

"Where am I?" Chris asked him, barely recognizing Rael.

"You're in the hospital, Chris," Rael told him, "don't move around too much. The doctors spent several hours patching you up last night."

"So I'm not dreaming," Chris sighed, "it's over."

"You got it," Rael smiled, "you won."

"You don't really believe that do you?" Chris asked him, relaxing into the bed a little, "Whoever you are?"

"No," Rael sighed, "I guess not. I should probably introduce myself a bit better. My name is Rael Gabriel."

"You're the one who talked to Carrie down in the lobby," Chris said, "the one who actually got it."

"I tried," Rael said, "a day late and a dollar short. Jim Calysto shut the door on me for a while until I put it together."

"So how many charges do I have hanging over my head now?" Chris asked him, "Not that it matters a whole lot, but would be nice to know."

"They were all dropped about four hours ago," Rael said, "you didn't do anything wrong. You were just about the only one who was doing what they were supposed to."

"Great," Chris sighed, "so how long have I been out?"

"Just a shade under a day," Rael told him, "the doctors kept you sedated most of the day so your stitches would heal before you started jerking around like that."

Chris nodded and looked at the police officer. He wondered what Gabriel was still doing here if the charges had been dropped. Chris wasn't sure what was going on anymore, but he had a feeling that he wasn't going to like it. He figured that he might as well find out what happened next.

"What's the next step?" Chris asked him, "What is left for me?"

"Not much here," Rael admitted, "your brother didn't leave much left behind him."

"Yeah," Chris nodded sadly, "that's for sure."

"I do have some ideas on the subject if you want to listen to them," Rael said, "though I can come back and do that tomorrow if you like."

"Is Carrie nearby?" Chris asked, showing where his true priorities were, "I'd like to see her."

"Janine Caron regained her senses," Rael told him, "she was livid when she was told what had really happened. Tommy's death didn't help matters."

"She forced Carrie to stay away, didn't she?" Chris said, nodding with a sad understanding.

"They went to their uncle's in Vermont," Rael said, "Carrie didn't want to go, but her mother didn't give her a choice."

"Great," Chris sighed, "I really have lost everything."

"More than you know," Rael nodded, "all you have left are the tattered clothes we brought you here with."

"The house?" Chris asked.

"It burned down this morning after the truth hit the news," Rael said, "nothing left of chez Healy but a pile of ashes."

"I guess its foster city then," Chris scowled, "you should have let Calysto shoot me last night. It would have been more pleasant."

"I do have an alternative for you if you're willing to listen," Rael smiled, "that's why I'm still sitting here, you know."

"I thought it was because the police want to make sure I didn't do anything else," Chris said, sighing as he did so.

"They wouldn't choose me for that," Rael said, chuckling, "Not after I blackmailed them this afternoon to get the charges against You, Carrie, Cookie and Jason dropped. They weren't overly thrilled with me for that."

"How did you manage that?" Chris asked him.

"This," Rael said and tossed one of the earlier folders on Chris's lap, "it's a full account of the mishandling that happened with this case."

Chris flipped through the pages and read the clear, concise and mostly accurate reporting of what had gone on over the previous days. He was impressed that Rael Gabriel had managed to put it together so well, though he was gratified to see that Ami Kirk's aid to him had been left out of the report.

"You must not care about your job much," Chris said as he finished reading, "they must have been going apeshit."

"I also handed in my resignation letter," Rael smiled, "they couldn't do shit unless they wanted that released to the media."

"Why'd you do it?" Chris asked him, looking up and making eye contact.

"Because you got a raw deal," Rael said honestly, "and I couldn't work for those idiots anymore. Besides, I have a new job down in Raleigh starting in a couple weeks."

"North Carolina?" Chris asked.

"Yep," Rael said and sat on the edge of the bed, "which brings me to the other part of things."

"Oh?" Chris asked, wondering what this intriguing man had cooked up.

"My wife and I were wondering," Rael said, pausing to gauge reaction, "if you'd find living with a cop and an ex-model a bit more palatable than going into foster care up here."

"Wait..." Chris said, "You?"

"Uh huh," Rael nodded, "I couldn't let you get screwed all the way. Kelly agreed and she's willing to have you around for a while."

"But that requires moving to Raleigh," Chris said, the whole picture coming together, "And I have to leave everyone that you've ever known."

"I'm afraid so," Rael said, "but in a way, you've already done that. You knew when you walked out of that police station that there would be no turning back."

"I don't have much," Chris said, "but I have to leave Carrie too?"

"Janine Caron won't let you near Carrie," Rael told him honestly, "despite attempts to talk sense into that woman she still blames you for what happened."

"That's ok," Chris sighed and sat back in the bed again, "I think there's enough blame to go around."

"I've wrangled your parents accounts free to pay for their burial," Rael said, ignoring the blame question for now, "They'll be put in the ground without fanfare in the next week or so."

"Good," Chris said, though at this point he didn't care, "Thank you."

"You really did do good kid," Rael said finally, "not one in a million would have been able to pull it off."

"If I did so well," Chris wondered, "then why am I the one that's losing everything?"

"I don't know," Rael said, "but it could have been worse you know?"

"How?" Chris asked, his eyes wide at that, "How could it have gotten any worse?"

"You could be in jail now," Rael shrugged, "or Jerry could have killed you and kept on killing others."

"And if Jim Calysto had listened to me he probably would have been dead or in jail days before he was," Chris exclaimed, "what's being done about that?"

"Not my problem now," Rael grinned, "I'll let internal affairs deal with it. Resigning means never having to say you're sorry."

"Yeah," Chris sighed, "I don't know anymore."

"Just think about this for a while, eh?" Rael said, "You didn't cause this, you were merely caught up in it."

"He was my brother," Chris said, "I should have known!"

"You couldn't know what was in his head," Rael said, "Jerry isn't the first serial killer to have family who didn't realize it until it was too late. From all accounts, your brother was losing it long before he killed Annie."

"I still should have known," Chris sighed, "I spent fifteen years sharing everything in my life with him."

"Don't let it eat you up inside," Rael told him, "life's too short for that."

"How long do I have before I have to go?" Chris asked him.

"As soon as they release you from here," Rael said, "Kelly went shopping and picked up a new set of clothes for you. The doctors want you to rest for a few days before they release you."

"Yeah," Chris said, "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon on that knee."

"We'll work that out too," Rael said, "one more bit of advice before I go home and get some sleep, ok?"

"Sure," Chris said.

"Don't watch the TV," Rael told him, "you and your brother are all over it."

"Thanks," Chris said and watched as Rael walked towards the door, "for everything."

"Just don't prove me wrong," Rael said, "I think you're a good kid. I just want to give you a chance to remain one."

Chris thought about that as Rael walked out the door. He did not know what to do but he was beginning to realize that going with Rael was probably the best thing he could do for Carrie and the others.

With him gone, the Healy curse would be removed and this would eventually die down, something that would not happen if he stayed. He thought more about this as he reclined again and stared at the ceiling, heeding Gabriel's advice about the TV.

Chapter 48: December 15, 1985, 1:25 pm

Everything Is Different Now

Chris Healy sat up in the bed, pulling on the brand new blue hooded sweatshirt that Kelly Gabriel had picked up for him. He looked around the hospital room that had been home for the past three days. He was looking forward to getting out of the stark white surroundings and away from the oppressiveness of the past week.

The past week had been a blur for Chris since he was still mostly numb from what had happened. Four reporters had managed to slip through the police cordons in an attempt to interview him, attempts that usually ended with Chris pressing the nurse button and having them removed.

"Ready to get out of here, Chris?" Rael asked him.

"Don't have to ask me twice," Chris said, "any of the others show up?"

"Janine still has Carrie cooped up at her uncle's in Vermont," Rael told him, "the others are still dealing with various people."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "I saw Cookie on TV last night."

"There's talk of a major lawsuit," Rael said, "I almost hope they go through with it."

"I don't think I care about that," Chris said, "it won't change anything."

"Probably not," Rael agreed, "they've already fired Gordon Six. My guess is Calysto won't be far behind him out the door."

"So what's the plan from here?" Chris asked him.

"You and I take my truck and head south," Rael said, "No real agenda yet, just get you as far from here as possible."

"I can live with that," Chris agreed, "how do we get around the photographers?"

"I'm parked out back," Rael said, "Wheelchair should be here in a minute."

"Joy," Chris said, "so I guess this is it for me here? What's to stop the reporters from tracking us?"

"I was thinking about that," Rael said, "I talked to Trip Mason yesterday. He's got a judge friend that can rush through a name change petition. You won't have to use your real name outside of this state again."

"That works," Chris sighed, "what about school?"

"We'll worry about that in a month or so," Rael said, "somehow I don't think you're going to be able to put up with a standard school again."

"I've been thinking about that," Chris agreed, "first things first. Let's get out of here."

The nurse brought the wheelchair into the room and Rael helped Chris get into it. Chris still needed work with the crutches, and the hospital never allows people to use them in the halls anyway. Chris slumped in the chair and looked at the people around him.

"Here," Rael said as he handed Chris a ball cap, "put this down over your eyes. We'll try to slip you out the back without fanfare."

"Good luck," Chris sighed.

They went down around the back and through a side exit. The reporters were all congregated out in front as usual, so Rael was able to get Chris into the truck before anyone realized what was going on. He thanked the nurse and slipped into the driver's seat, starting the vehicle and getting it moving before the reporters figured out that he had left.

Rael turned the corner and headed straight to the highway. Chris looked one last time at the city in which he had lived his entire life. He knew that he was moving on to something new, but he could not make himself feel happy about it. He knew his body would heal but still wondered if his mind ever would.

"Everything is different now," Chris said as he watched the Maine scenery fly by, "nothing is ever going to be the same again."

"Yep," Rael agreed, "that's certainly true."

Chris sighed and watched the trees for a while as they wordlessly headed south, bringing him to a life that he never expected. It was a time for new beginnings and a rebirth. Chris Healy ceased to exist that day, to be reborn a few days later as Christopher J. Gabriel in North Carolina.
Chapter 49: June 4, 1993 7:30am

You Can't Go Home Again

"Who do we have that can go up there and question Morenski?" Special agent in charge Richard Lemmon asked, "Do we even have anyone who has been to southern Maine?"

"Chris Gabriel grew up there," Stuart Gross said after a moment of thought, "I don't know if he'll want to go back though."

"He was involved with that Healy mess, wasn't he?" Lemmon asked, "Is Gabriel around today?"

"He should be," Gross said, "he was supposed to fly in yesterday. Criminal Psyche is bugging out over the interview report on John Wayne Gacy. Gabriel evidently did a good job of getting the son of a bitch to talk."

"Did the same thing on Dahmer last year," Lemmon nodded, "I'm amazed that the profilers haven't scooped him up yet."

"He's still fighting it," Gross told him, "he isn't all that thrilled with that end of the field."

"Too bad," Lemmon sighed, "he's good at it. I read the Dahmer report. Do we have anyone else free for the Morenski thing?"

"Not really," Gross said, "everyone else is working on something. I was going to assign Gabriel to help with the prep work on the espionage case, but that can wait a while."

"Send him," Lemmon said, "he's still packed I'm sure. Should be a quick in and out. Find out if he knows anything and report. If we need Morenski we'll work out the details with someone else. Gabriel is good at getting the suckers to talk."

"He looks too young to have that kind of skill," Stuart Gross chuckled, "did they pull him from high school?"

"The kid went to school early," Lemmon said, "got his G.E.D. at seventeen and took nearly double credit hours every year of college until he graduated with a computer degree."

"That's right," Gross said, "Chucky told me about that once. Psyche has been trying to pick him up since we got him, something about scoring abnormally high on their tests?"

"Yeah," Lemmon nodded, "kid's a natural, but he prefers investigations. Elliot Weise has been trying to get him to go over there full time for a year now."

"He won't go willingly," Gross shrugged, "though I'm guessing that if the Gacy paper is anywhere near as good as Dahmer's he may not get a choice."

"Go give him his marching orders," Richard Lemmon told him, "he's due on a plane in two hours."

"Right," Gross nodded, "he's going to love it too."

Stuart Gross went out into the main office where most of the field agents were working on their various cases. He looked around the room and found his quarry sitting, not at his desk but by the corner window he'd used ever since he began working in this building, it giving him an open place where he could break the smoking rule without pissing too many people off.

Christopher Gabriel, now 23 years of age, was now six foot one inches tall and still rather on the large side. Having been brought in more for his brain than for his physical ability, he didn't worry about the fact that he couldn't run a mile on his still bad leg. His major vice at this point was smoking too many cigarettes, which is what he was doing in his wooden chair by the open window.

"Gabriel," Gross told him, "how did the Gacy interview go?"

"The guy is certifiable," Chris said, looking up at Gross as he took a pull on the cigarette, "After spending two weeks with that lunatic I am looking forward to the day they pull the switch."

"Did you have plans for this weekend?" Gross asked him.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, blowing out smoke through his nose, "I have a frozen bottle of Stoli and a number of bad Chuck Norris movies waiting for me at home. I'm going to drink enough that I forget who John Gacy is. Why?"

"Morenski surfaced again," Gross said and tossed him the file, "they've got him on a DUI charge. We need to know if he actually knows anything before we go through the extradition process."

"You're kidding me, right Stu?" Chris said as he looked at the man, "I just got back from two weeks from that lunatic and you're sending me out again?"

"You're the only one unassigned," Stuart explained apologetically, "it would waste a lot of time to give you someone else's work and have them go up there."

"All right," Chris sighed, and flipped through the folder, "At least it's not another one of those fucking psycho profiles. When and where?"

"You've got to get over to RDU post haste," Gross told him, "you've got a flight to Portland in two hours."

"Oregon this time?" Chris said as he flipped through, "I thought Morenski was an east coast gopher."

"Maine," Gross said and waited for the reaction.

"You really are asking for trouble, you know that?" Chris said as he looked at Stuart Gross, "The last time I walked out of that city it was having just missed several nasty indictments."

"That was years ago," Gross said, "you're a fed now. It's a simple job, Chris. Go in, talk to Phil Morenski and report back to me. I'll even throw in a couple extra days off when you're done."

"In and out?" Chris asked, "I don't have to take him back?"

"Nope," Gross chuckled and held the ticket out to Gabriel, "it'll take a week for extradition to go through. Just talk to him and you can leave in the morning on the first flight you can book."

"All right," Chris said, taking the tickets, "I'll go back. Maybe it'll let me purge some old demons."

"That's the way to look at it," Gross said, "hope you have some clothes ready."

"Suitcase is still in the trunk," Chris said crossly, "I didn't even take it out last night when I got home."

"I figured as much," Gross said, "you rarely do."

Chris looked at Gross crossly and put out his cigarette into the coffee he'd half been drinking. He stood up and took the folder, giving his regards to the others on the way out the door. Stuart Gross watched as the young man walked away, a little bit of a limp still evident in his right leg.
Chapter 50: June 4, 1993 12:24 pm

The Definition of Irony

Chris Gabriel smoked his fourth cigarette in a row as he drove his rented Plymouth towards the city that he'd left under a cloud years before. He was not sure how he should feel about this, and he was not sure he wanted to spend any longer than he had to in that city. There were too many bad memories for him there.

His memory of the city's geography was good, so he found his way to the same police station he had escaped from over seven years before. He pulled into a parking space and walked up to the front door, the place looking much smaller than he remembered it being. He went inside and walked up to the desk.

"There's no smoking in here, sir," the young woman running the front desk said.

"Right," Chris said and used his fingers to kill the cigarette.

"Can I help you?" She asked, annoyed.

"Yeah," Chris said and showed his ID, "I'm here to speak to a prisoner named Phillip Morenski."

"Ok," she said and looked at her notes, "you'll need to talk to the Captain before you talk to any prisoners."

"Is he expecting me?" Chris asked her.

"I'll buzz him on your way in," the receptionist promised him, "To your left and..."

"I remember," Chris nodded, waving her off, "thank you."

Chris walked towards the captain's office and sighed as he remembered his last trip through these halls. It looked exactly the same then, a paint job not being in the city's budget most of the time. Especially for a building that was so old and constantly used.

Chris sighed, knocked on the door and heard a rather familiar voice on the other side. He was not quite able to place it, but he did recognize the face when he opened the door. James Calysto looked up and saw the one person who had nearly derailed his career, over seven years before.

"Jesus Christ," Calysto said as he looked at Chris, "Chris Healy."

"I haven't used that name in years," Chris said as he looked at Calysto, "they made you a Captain?"

"What are you doing here?" Calysto asked him, "I'm expecting a federal agent. Is this a joke?"

"If it is, the joke is on me," Chris said as he showed Calysto his credentials, "I'm the agent they sent to talk to Morenski."

"You're a fed?" Calysto said, muttering something obscene under his breath, "I thought they had better standards than that."

"I would say the same for the police department here," Chris smiled evilly, "but I know better."

"Watch it," Calysto said, "I'd love an excuse to have you thrown out of this place."

"Do that and any cooperation you experience with the feds dries up," Chris said, fully enjoying having a winning hand against Calysto, "I'm here on official business. What happened between us is in the past. Drop it and let me do my job so I can get the fuck out of this state again."

"Go do what you have to do and get out of my station," Calysto growled, "and good riddance to you."

"You always were an asshole, Calysto," Chris chuckled, "nice to see some things never change."

Chris walked out of the office smiling inexplicably. It felt very good to be able to give that asshole a piece of his mind. He went over towards the jail unit to go see Morenski, who was supposed to be held over for a DUI charge. Chris did not expect him to be worth the effort, but he wanted to try and get any information he could.

Chris saw a couple officers in the jail unit running around as Chris went over to the lockdown door. He showed his identification to a harried guard, who buzzed him in. Chris wondered what the commotion was about and followed the guard down to the end cell on the left.

Chris walked over and looked dispassionately at the inmate who was hanging from a makeshift noose that was slung over an air conditioning duct. The man was most definitely dead and he had a nasty suspicion on who it was. The description fairly well matched the one he had in the Morenski file.

"Phillip Morenski?" Chris asked as he looked up at the corpse.

"Yeah," one of the guards said, "the two kids he hit last night died. Guess he decided he should too."

"Good riddance," Chris said and turned away from the body, "I guess my job here is done."

"You were supposed to take him?" one of the officers asked.

"I was supposed to talk to him to see if he was worth it," Chris corrected him, "he's not worth it now."

Chris walked out of the guard unit and looked for a phone. He was directed over to one of the narcotics unit desks to use one of theirs. Chris dialed the toll free line for the bureau and went through the motions to get Stuart Gross on the phone. He knew it was not going to be a fun call.

"Gross here," he said over the phone.

"It's Gabriel," Chris said, "Morenski is dead. He committed suicide before I could talk to him."

"Suicide?" Gross asked, "What happened?"

"He killed a couple of kids," Chris said over the phone as he shrugged, "I guess it was too much for the sucker."

"All right," Gross said, "I guess your job is done. I guess you get to go home early."

"My ticket isn't until tomorrow," Chris said, "it'll cost the bureau more to change it than it would to stay here at the motel tonight. I'll stick tonight and then go home in the morning."

"Ok," Gross said, "you're off until next week, I cleared it. Least we can do for sending you off again so soon."

"Yeah," Chris said, "don't worry about it. I'll be back tomorrow, probably spend the rest of the week sleeping."

"You?" Gross said, "Sleep? Last I remember you hadn't gotten more than four hours in a stretch in years."

"That's what the Stoli is for," Chris said with a sly smile, "anyway, I'll be back in a day or so."

"Good enough," Gross said, "have fun up there."

"Not likely," Chris sighed and put the phone down.

Chris looked at the phone for a second and then looked at the interrogation room across the floor. It was the one he'd been seated in for those long hours the night after his parents' death. The current occupant looked very familiar to Chris. He thought his eyes were deceiving him, but that looked a lot like Cookie Morris in the room.

He went over to take a closer look and was tapped on the shoulder by another officer, one that he did not recognize completely. It was apparent that the officer recognized him and was rather surprised to see him.

"Chris Healy?" the officer asked.

"Not anymore," Chris chuckled, "the name is Gabriel now."

"So Rael did take you in," the officer nodded, "I figured he would."

"Who are you?" Chris asked, "I don't remember..."

"Bob Murphy," he said holding his hand out, "I worked on the case with Rael."

"Oh," Chris smiled and shook the hand, "Rael told me about you. Still here I see?"

"I didn't get the cool job offer he did," Murphy chuckled, "it's turned out all right though. I managed to get in as a detective."

"One question," Chris said, "how the hell did that incompetent idiot become Captain?"

"Happened about two years ago," Murphy said, "there was a corruption scandal that he broke, did a surprisingly competent job for a change. Captain was his reward."

"Jesus," Chris said, sighing, "How did he get away with what happened to me?"

"Gordon Six took the fall for that," Murphy shrugged, "Calysto was merely following his orders it seemed."

"Bullshit," Chris said, "but then, I don't much care. I don't have to work for him."

"What brings you back?" Murphy asked him.

"I was supposed to talk to a prisoner," Chris said, "but they found him hanging from the rafters. My job is done."

"You're the fed they sent to see Morenski?" Murphy asked.

"Yep," Chris nodded, "ironic, eh?"

"Very," Murphy chuckled, "just as ironic as her getting picked up this morning."

"I saw that," Chris noted, "what charge?"

"We busted a drug dealer's place and found her there," Murphy explained, "I don't think she's a hard core user, but we are trying to get the supplier's name out of her."

"You think she knows?" Chris asked him.

"Probably," Murphy said, "I'd like to offer her a deal, but without getting that name I can't."

"Want me to try?" Chris asked him.

"You have no authority here," Murphy reminded him.

"No authority," Chris said, "a favor basically. I owe the girl."

"Get me that name and I'll let her walk out the door," Murphy said, "she doesn't even have to testify. I don't think she'd make a good witness anyway, especially if the defense picks up on what she did with you."

"Why not?" Chris shrugged and headed towards the door, "Might as well do something good here. Morenski is a dead end."

"Literally," Murphy said dryly as Chris entered the interrogation room.

Cookie was sitting with her head down on the table as Chris sat down in the stark wooden chair. She did not even look up to see who had entered. She had been through this mess for hours now and just could not force herself to care anymore. Chris chuckled and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, figuring that Murphy would not complain.

"Sounds like you've had a bad day, Cookie," Chris said as he lit up.

"What do you know about it?" she asked without looking up, "So what are you going to ask me about now?"

"Just wondering how you got yourself in this situation is all," Chris said, deliberately letting some southern drawl in his voice, "And I'm wondering how we can get you out of it."

Cookie recognized the sound of the voice a little, but the southern drawl just did not fit. She finally looked up and tried to recognize the man who was smoking a cigarette in the chair in front of her. She was tired and had had a long day, so it took a few minutes to dawn on her who was actually sitting in front of her.

"Chris?" Cookie said, shocked, "Chris Healy?"

"You know," Chris said as he blew out a line of smoke, "I hadn't heard that name in years before today."

"Jesus H. Christ," Cookie said, "we'd about given you up for dead."

"I'm a bad penny," Chris shrugged, "I always turn up."

"How did you get in here?" Cookie asked him suspiciously, "Don't tell me you're a cop now?"

"Fed actually," Chris said and laid his identification on the table, "nearly two years now."

"Christ," Cookie said, "Chris Gabriel? That explains why we couldn't track you down."

"You tried?" Chris asked.

"Carrie and I did," Cookie nodded, "most of the way through high school."

"It was a messed up situation," Chris admitted, "Rael had to get me out fairly quick to keep them from filing charges against the lot of us."

"So that's why they released us?" Cookie asked.

"Rael blackmailed them," Chris nodded, "they took the deal, but made him get me out of the state quickly."

"Why did you come back now?" Cookie asked him, "After so long?"

"I was sent up here to talk to a prisoner," Chris said, "I just happened to see you sitting here."

"They actually let you come in to talk to me?" Cookie said.

"Murphy wants the name," Chris told her, "you give it to me, you walk. You don't even have to testify."

"I give you that name I'm dead, Chris," Cookie said, "not a really good deal."

"Why the drugs, Cookie?" Chris asked her, "You don't look like a junkie yet, but you had to be playing with them."

"With the memories you and I share?" Cookie asked him quietly, "You dare ask me that?"

"The drugs won't help," Chris promised her, "I learned that early on."

"How do you sleep?" Cookie asked him.

"One night at a time," Chris said, "quite often aided by a healthy dose of alcohol."

"Yeah," Cookie sighed.

"What have you been doing for a living?" Chris asked her.

"A little bit of modeling," Cookie said, "I play the bass really well too. I play with a band sometimes."

"You have many ties left here?" Chris asked her.

"No," Cookie said, "been thinking about leaving, actually."

"Let me go make a couple calls," Chris said and left the room.

Cookie looked at the one-way mirror as she waited for Chris to return. He returned in less than five minutes, sliding a piece of paper across the table and putting his cigarette out in the tin ashtray on the table.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A buddy of mine in North Carolina is looking for a decent bass player," Chris said, "when I told him what you looked like he said the job was yours, especially if you can play half decent."

"North Carolina?" Cookie asked, "I don't know..."

"I'll even help you out," Chris said, "give Murphy the name and I'll bring you to North Carolina myself. The reason I was here was found hanging in his cell a little while ago. I've actually got some time off."

"Have you seen Carrie yet?" Cookie asked him.

"No," Chris said, "I've been in town for only a couple hours."

"You need to see her before you leave," Cookie said, "you know that, right?"

"She probably wouldn't want anything to do with me after all this time," Chris said, "I tried to write, but my letters were returned unopened."

"Carrie's mother, probably," Cookie sighed, "she still hates your guts."

"Where is she now?" Chris asked her.

"She just graduated a few days ago," Cookie said, "she's still living with her mother for now, but she wants to get out."

"Is there anyone..." Chris wondered, letting himself go briefly down that path.

"Not like you," Cookie said, "she has tried, of course, but she never found anyone that could quite match up in her mind."

"I probably should go see her," Chris said, fumbling for another cigarette, "The offer still goes for you though. Do you want out of here?"

"Yeah," Cookie said, "I'll take it, but only if you go find Carrie before we leave."

"Give him the name so you can get out of here," Chris said, pointing at the mirror.

"Darren Childress," Cookie sighed, "the city councilman."

"That dickhead?" Chris asked, "Rael told me about him, he's a crooked motherfucker that was only concerned about saving his seat. He didn't care if we all rotted or not."

"Really?" Cookie said, "Maybe I shouldn't feel bad about ratting on him then."

"Wait a minute," Bob Murphy came in and exclaimed, "You're not kidding me? Darren Childress is involved in this?"

"Last I knew he was running it," Cookie said, "Using his connections to keep the questions down."

"That answers a few questions," Murphy said, still in shock, "You've earned your part of the deal."

"Thanks," Chris said, "keep a lid on this until I can get her out of town?"

"Oh yeah," Murphy nodded, "this ain't going anywhere for a while."

"Where's your place, Cookie?" Chris asked her.

"I've been staying with my cousin," she said, "over on Fifth Street. Drop me there and you can go see Carrie."

"Right," Chris said, "I probably should go at least see my parent's grave too, seeing as I never got to see it."

"Just go see Carrie, ok?" Cookie pleaded, "Please?"

"I will," Chris nodded, not sure if he meant it or not, "But for now let's get you out of here."

The paperwork was thrown in the trash for her arrest, so that officially it did not happen. She and Chris were about to leave the police station when Calysto came rushing out of it, trying to get in their way.

"Hold on one second, Healy," he said, "you took her out of here seven years ago. I'll be damned if you're going to do it again."

"My name isn't Healy anymore, Calysto," Chris said patiently, "and your detectives dropped the charges. Standard deal. I just helped them put it together. Now get out of my way."

"You think you're hot shit, don't you?" he said, "Well sorry, you're not going to win this time. This girl is back under arrest. Deals aren't to be made in this place without my approval."

Chris began to get really pissed at him. He decided to push back and see if Calysto was still as much of a coward as he had been seven years before

"Listen to me, you little pissant," Chris said calmly, "I have had enough of your bullshit. I had to listen to it seven years ago because you were an adult and I wasn't. I am an adult now. Probably more adult than you've been in your sorry little life."

"You can't talk to me like that!" Calysto fumed.

"Like hell I can't," Chris told him, "I'm an FBI agent now. I don't even have to listen to you if I don't want to. Cookie Morris is coming with me. She honored her end of the deal and you have no cause to hold her. With my testimony, the DA will throw your case out of court anyway. Do you really like self abuse that much, Calysto?"

"You have no business being here, Healy," he said, "if you don't get out of the way I'm going to lock you up for obstruction."

"Fuck you, Calysto," Chris said, simply and to the point, "If you do that I guarantee that any cooperation you get out of the Feds will dry up. Not to mention the fact that if you touch this woman, I will do what I should have done in 1985."

"And that is?" he asked with a sneer.

"Hit you with so many rights that you will beg me for a left," Chris said without any trace of emotion.

They had attracted a nice crowd by that point in time. A number of the people who were working under Calysto were watching and snickering. Most of them were secretly hoping that Chris would do it. Jim Calysto was not a particularly popular boss among people in the department.

"You wouldn't dare," he said, turning white a little.

"Like hell I wouldn't," Chris smiled, "with you, no jury in the world would convict me."

Calysto thought about it for a minute and decided that she was not worth the effort. Cookie never figured out whether Chris was bluffing or not. Chris himself likely didn't know that.

"You win," Calysto said, "But if she's still in my city tomorrow..."

"I'll get her out by Monday," Chris said, not giving an inch, "If you can't wait that long you are in the wrong business."

He glared at Chris, but said nothing else as he retreated into the police station. Chris smiled triumphantly and led Cookie to his car, pulling away and driving her to her home before going on to the cemetery.

Chapter 51: June 4, 1993 3:31 pm

If Only I'd Known...

Chris drove silently towards the graveyard, not sure how to feel about things at this point. He turned the radio onto the 80's station, grooving to the replaying of Falco's "Rock Me Amadeus" as he went to get what was needed to visit the family gravesite. It was something he had thought about more than once over the years, what he would do if he ever went back.

He stopped over at a 7-11 store and bought three bottles of water, a can of Spaghettios, and two bottles of Miller High Life. After that, he drove up towards the cemetery that the family plot resided in. Rael had told him years before where the plot was so he drove through the cemetery until he found it.

It was an isolated plot, most likely to keep the gawkers away and because it was cheap. Gabriel had set up a real plot for them with the money from their estate, but he'd gone for simple and tasteful.

Chris walked up slowly and looked at the stones that marked the final resting places of his family. They were your standard, average ordinary stones. Nothing on them to show what type of people were lying under them. The family stone was rather nondescript, foot tall letters saying Healy and little else.

Chris was surprised that they had actually used raised stones for his parents and brother. Joseph Healy, 1942-1985. Juliana Healy, 1944-1985. Jerome Healy, 1970-85. The last one he lingered on for a few minutes, still breathing hard at the mere proximity to what was left of his brother.

Finally, after a few minutes, he was able to go back to his parents stones. Chris started with his mother. Putting the can of Spaghettios down in front of her stone and using the heel of his boot he pounded it down into the ground. He figured that he'd eaten enough of them in the last year he lived at home the least he could do was return the favor.

He then went to his father's grave. One of the last moments Chris remembered that was pleasant was when his father had shared a beer with him. He popped the tops off both bottles of Miller and drank one down himself, while putting the other one in the ground, opening first, letting the beer drain down into the ground..

That just left three bottles of water and his brother. Chris lit up a cigarette and started drinking water. Within a few minutes he had managed to put them all down. Chris just stood there, staring at the stone and finishing off his cigarette. He had lit and smoked half of another one before he finally felt what he had been waiting for.

Chris looked around to make sure that there were no other people nearby. Seeing that the coast was clear, he pulled down his zipper and let himself out. Chris could do nothing but smile as he took a nice long piss over his brother's grave. Chris still hoped that Jerry was burning in hell quite nicely. Chris was certain that he would see him there someday.

Feeling quite good about himself he tossed the cigarette at the stone and zipped up. He smiled as he walked back towards the car, stopping however, when he heard some motion up ahead. Chris stood up straight and looked ahead, seeing a young woman and a little boy looking at a couple of gravestones. Chris thought nothing of it until he did a double take at the young woman's hair, which looked familiar.

He decided to go over and look and see if he recognized her like he thought he did. It was not until she turned around that he was certain about her identity. Those eyes were the same ones he had lost himself in more than seven years before. The surprise on her face was almost as great as his own was.

"It can't be," Carrie said as she looked at him, "Chris?"

"My god," Chris said to himself as he looked at her, "Carrie?"

Chris and Carrie ran towards each other and hugged each other tightly, almost making up for the entire time just with the look and the touch. The years had passed, but to both of them it felt almost as if it had been a day. Chris stepped back to look at her, to see how she'd weathered the time since they had last seen each other.

She was still very pretty, and she had filled out fairly well, but maintained an athletic form. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a blouse, looking respectable but like an average college student. Chris was wearing the usual dark suit that was required by his bosses, one that he had never learned to like. It was an interesting combination, making him look years older than he was.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Carrie said, "Mom took me away the next night..."

"Shhh," Chris said, "it's ok. Part of the deal to get the charges dropped against the three of you was for me to leave."

"Bob Murphy told me that," Carrie nodded, "we tried to find you, but Rael must have done a good job at hiding you two. We couldn't find a trace."

"He changed my name," Chris told her, "I took his last name about two weeks after I left. Between his boss and him, my records were so well whitewashed that I doubt I could claim a check as Chris Healy now."

They looked at each other for a few minutes until the child came over and started tugging on Carrie's shirt. Carrie smiled down at him and looked back up at Chris. It was at this point that Chris actually looked at the child. He was tall for his age, a few months shy of seven years.

"Who's the little guy?" Chris asked her and then took a closer look.

Chris Healy saw his own eyes in the child and then looked up at Carrie. He did not even need her to say what had really happened. He looked into her eyes and saw what he had spent the last seven years trying to recover. She looked back and smiled.

"Tommy," Carrie said softly to the little boy, "I'd like you to meet your father."

"Tommy?" Chris asked Carrie.

"Thomas Matthew Caron," Carrie said, "he was born in August of 1986."

"Jesus," Chris said, thoroughly shocked, "I didn't know, Carrie. I swear to you that I wouldn't have left if I did."

"You'd been gone three months by the time I figured it out," Carrie said, "Cookie and I tried to find you, but as you said, Rael whitewashed your background so well that it wasn't possible."

"I don't know what to say," Chris said, "I guess that's why Cookie made me promise to see you."

"Yeah," Carrie said, "you're not looking too much the worse for wear."

"It's an act, I assure you," Chris said as he continued to look at them, "I do my job and go home to get my four or so hours of sleep a night."

"At least you have one," Carrie said, "I've been looking for one for months now. They don't seem to have much need for behavioral psych majors up here."

"Well," Chris said, "maybe we should take a walk and talk about the future?"

"I'd like that," Carrie said, smiling at him, "But maybe I'd better bring Tommy home first?"

"Ok," Chris said, "can I meet you somewhere?"

"You name it," Carrie nodded, "anywhere you like."

"Down at the park," Chris said without thinking, "the same place that I saw you the last time."

"I'll be there in an hour," Carrie promised.

"Going home now?" Little Tommy asked.

"Not yet," Chris mumbled, "But hopefully soon..."

Chris Gabriel walked into the park and looked around to see what looked different. He had so many good memories there that it was hard to feel bad about the place, even though it's the place where the nightmare ended. He sighed as the memories flooded over him.

His first destination was, of course, the old H.E.L.L. tunnel, and he was mildly surprised to see that the window that they used to crawl through was cemented off. He sighed and walked towards the place where his brother had died in the snow, years before.

Chris walked around a little, trying to avoid the limp that usually resulted from him standing around for too long. He looked at the stone and concrete areas and remembered playing on them with his brother, before Jerry had taken that final leap into insanity.

"Chris?" Carrie asked as she walked up, "That you?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "a lot of memories in this place, huh?"

"Jerry's dead and gone though," Carrie said, "we still remain."

"I want to go out to the lighthouse," Chris said, "want to go with me and we'll talk?"

"Sure," she said, smiling at him, "Just don't run out on me again."

"No way," Chris said, "not again."

They walked out towards the breakwater together, hand in hand. They had lost many years but the years were catching up on them quickly. It was not until he kissed her at the lighthouse that she had decided to go with him, making a true family for both of them for the first time since Jerry Healy had destroyed them both, many years before.

##

Epilogue: June 25, 1996, 3:22 am

Fresh Dirt and Old Bones

Chris Gabriel just looked at the casket, freshly exposed for the first time in over ten years. He thought about all the people lying in similar ones because of what his brother had done.

Carrie and Cookie looked down at it in a combination of wonder and horror. Rael looked at Chris, letting him get up the courage to decide whether he was going to actually open the thing up.

"You going to open it?" Carrie asked again.

He sighed and lit up a cigarette. Over the preceding years Carrie had gotten him to cut down, but not quit cigarettes entirely. She had done much better on the alcohol front and he had not had a drink in nearly two years. He was nervous by this point, however, and tried to decide what to do.

"Give me a minute," Chris said and grabbed the crowbar, "I just needed to think."

He pried open the casket. It gave a low creaking sound, just like an old door that had not been oiled in years. It took a few minutes of work, but Chris managed to get it open and expose the contents.

He then realized that the nightmares he had had all those years had been unfounded. Jerry Healy was not something otherworldly. He was not Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger. He was a psychopath, to be sure, but he was human despite it all.

The rotting remains of Jerry Healy were still lying there in the casket, where they had been laid out by George Santiago ten years before. The embalming had left him to where he was almost recognizable, but since there was no funeral they hadn't bothered to repair the damage to his head.

The ragged bullet holes where Chris had shot him were still there. They all looked at Jerry's remains for a few minutes, now knowing for sure that he would never be able to move or harm anyone again.

Rael looked at the corpse without betraying any emotion. Chris climbed up out of the grave and went over to the pile of stuff, getting the can of gasoline and pouring it inside the grave.

"If I'm doing this," Chris said to everyone, "I'm going to do it right."

He lit another cigarette and looked down at the remains of Jerome Healy one last time. Knowing that he had his life with Carrie ahead of him and his friends all around him, Christopher Gabriel made the final break with Jerome Healy, his past and with the Healy name.

Chris Gabriel tossed the cigarette into the grave and the Healy brothers ceased to exist with the ball of flame.

***The End**

## About the Author

Rodney Mountain is a writer living in the skin of a cynical computer technician. He has been writing books for over a decade in between work, being a husband and father to two kids.

Born in 1977, his first version of The Healy Murders was completed in 1998 at the age of 21 and revised several times before it made it to the state that you are reading now.

Other Titles by Rodney Mountain

Immortal Universe Novels

The Accidental Immortal

Undercover

The Killer Strikes

Anoki's Revenge

The Immortal Progression

Corporate Immortality

Not With A Whisper

The Mullinix: Ascension

The Mullinix: Redemption

The Mullinix: Resolution

Other Works

Durell's Insurrection

Night Strike (Short Story Anthology)

The Black Fossil

