The
beauty of the
land wasn’t just its size―thousands of
acres,
with a good two hundred
acres blessedly devoted to wetlands―but
that it had only one
main path that ran through it.
On
either side of that path were country roads and thus, if Cheryl could find
them, she’d strike the lottery because there was a possible way out for
her.
Otherwise, the land was so
difficult to navigate, if you didn’t know exactly where you were at all times,
becoming lost was a God-given certainty.
Now,
after leaving behind Patty Jennings, whom he fucked like the whore she was last
night, which was part of his and Ted’s greater plan on this particular quest,
Kenneth Berkowitz drove his black Ford F-150 northwest until he came to the
nowheresville that was Monson, a rural hive of zero activity and little
interest.
If you didn’t count the
random shut-ins who decided to live out here in their sad little shacks of doom
and g
loom,
there literally was nothing here but the beauty of nature, which Kenneth and
Ted would have preferred since that is how they believed this land should have
been left―untouched by anyone but God.
The
entrance to the path that led into the woods was marked with a simple red
ribbon tied around a branch.
Berkowitz drove until he found it, and when he did, he pulled off to the
side of the road and got out of the truck.
He took a deep breath of the clean, crisp air, and once again, he
connected with his Father, Jesus Christ the Lord God Almighty.
Not a soul around.
No houses for miles.
Nothing but the blessed rush of birds
migrating overhead and the otherwise hush of serenity.
But that
didn’t mean he didn’t need to take precautions.
If
anyone was to drive by right now, all they’d see was a young man in jeans,
boots and a heavy brown jacket.
He
had a cap over his head to conceal his hair.
He wore dark sunglasses at his eyes so
no direct, personal connection could be made with anyone.
He and Ted switched the plates on his
truck when they first arrived in Maine, and they’d switched them weekly ever
since.
Best to blend in.
Best to look like a Mainer.
God
helped them along the way, and they were grateful for that.
CHAPT
ER NINE
Kenneth
and Ted met three years ago when Ted posted a message on Craigslist that asked
if anyone else believed that the whores of the world should be eliminated from
the face of it in the name of Jesus Christ Lord God Almighty.
Most of
the replies were what he expected from that liberal playground of sinners, many
of whom used the site to troll for sex.
They joked about the post.
Many told him to go to hell, which made him smile at the absurdity of
the statement.
Some said that they
only agreed if their ex-wives could be put on the list, which he replied he’d
be pleased to put them on it if they provided their addresses.
Others posted photographs of naked women
in response, and he said shame on them for sharing photographs of their mothers
and grandmothers.
No one took Ted
seriously.
But then, before the
people behind Craigslist removed the post from their site, Kenneth himself saw
it and replied.
An email
correspondence began between the two men.
Ted
lived in Denver.
Kenneth lived in
Los Angeles, the City of Angels, which he always viewed as the beginning of his
divine calling regardless of the ironic, sheer amount of sin that occurred
there.
Each
went to an Abundant Love church, which they agreed was a sign of some
sort.
Out of all the churches in
the world, they chose Abundant Love.
It was uncanny to them.
More
over, each was active as aggressive anti-abortion activists, another sign that
couldn’t go ignored.
They
talked about the evils allowed to thrive in the world and the responsibility of
men like themse
lves to take actions to stop them.
Obviously, they couldn’t stop everything―it
was just two against an army of many―but through certain actions neither
discussed for several weeks, perhaps they could send a message to the world
about the whores that defac
ed it.
When the news stories struck, maybe the
world would hear their call.
Soon,
they were talking by telephone.
Their Sundays no longer were spent at their respective churches, but
instead, each took turns either reading their favorite passages from the Bible
aloud to each other or, in some cases, delivering a passionately delivered
sermon to each other.
They talked
about their private lives and how each, because of their “radical beliefs,” had
been ostracized by their families and friends.
“I
haven’t seen my mother in eleven years,” Ted said one day on the phone.
“Eleven years.
Won’t have anything to do with me.
Said she couldn’t do anything more for
me and that I needed help.
She
actually said she’d pray for me, which made me laugh.
I told her I’d pray for
her
.
I told her I’d pray for the whole
fucking family because the family was going to hell.
Not me.”
“They
always say that,” Kenneth said.
“They always say they’ll pray, which is a joke because all they ever
pray for is more money, a better house, material things.
In my family, I know all of them are
praying for me, whatever that means.
Let them waste their time.
Let them pray and pray and pray.
They’ll never get it.
They’ll never understand the reason behind prayer, the reasons why you
pray, or the importance of both.”
“You’re
right.
They won’t.”
“You
know what?
My mother called me a
con.
She said how can someone like
me stand on the street corner with my abortion posters and my Bible, and also
own pornography?
Does she not
get
it?
Looking at porn isn’t the
sin.
It’s simply the evidence of
sin, something that needs to be noted and called out.
It’s the whores posing naked for the
photographs who are the sinners.
Am
I missing something here?”
“Not a
thing, my friend.”
“And
sex,” Kenneth said.
“When I fuck a
woman, I fuck her hard.
I want her
to hurt.
I do it because I know it
hurts.
I do it because if I can
pick her up at a bar, without us even knowing each other, then she’s nothing
but some slut who needs to be dealt with.
So, I po
und the shit out of her.
Slap her around.
Sometimes―and
I’m gonna be honest with you here, Ted―sometimes I want it all to end
with my hands around their throats while I squeeze the life out of them.”
A
silence passed.
“You
feel that way, too?” Ted asked.
“I feel
that way all the time.
I’m never
not
thinking about it.”
“Ever do
anything about it?”
This
time, the silence stretched.
“Kenneth?
Have you?”
“Yeah.
Maybe.
Maybe once.”
“Just
maybe?”
“Once.”
“Just
the once?”
“No.”
“How did
it feel?”
“It felt
right.
It felt
clean
.”
“Each
time?”
“More
than each time.”
“How
many times?”
“Eight
times.”
“Ever
fear of getting caught?”
“Is that
even a question?
You know He has
our backs.
I’ll never get
caught.
He has charged me with this
and He will see me through on my mission.”
“I asked
because I’ve done it, too.”
“You
have?”
“I
have.
And I enjoyed it.”
“How
many?”
“I’m
proud to say that I’ve sent fourteen to Hell.
And just like you, I’ll never get caught
for the same reason.
He believes in
me.
He will carry me through the
brightest of days, and through my darkest hours.”
A week
later, Kenneth Berkowitz was in Denver to meet Ted Carpenter for the first
time.
Though at twenty-six, Kenneth
was sixteen years younger than Ted, it wasn’t just a meeting of the minds w
hen they
finally came face-to-face―each felt as if he had just met his long-lost
brother.
Their
killing spree began six weeks later in Nevada.
Since then, they had murdered
sixty-eight women, all deemed worthless whores by two men who believed in their
souls that cleansing the world of these women was their divine right and
purpose.
And though once they
nearly were caught in Austin, the law had yet to touch them even though the FBI
and police forces all over the country knew about them.
What those organizations didn’t have was
anything that could link the killings to them.
Ted and Kenneth were too careful.
They were pros.
Jesus,
after all, had their backs.
CHA
PTER TEN
Before
he entered the woods, Kenneth called Ted on his cell.
When he answered and Kenneth heard the
elated panting of Ted’s breath, he knew the chase was underway.
“She’s
quick,” he said.
“Quick as Satan.”
“Where
are you?
On the path?”
“Too
smart.
Went right of it.
Getting close to the wetlands.
Could be over soon.”
“Don’t
kill her without me there.
Shoot
her in the leg or something.
I want
to be there.”
For
forty-two, Ted Carpenter was in fine shape, but he sounded as if he was moving
so fast that he was running out of breath.
“Got it.
The other one going
to hell?”
Kenneth
reached for
the Glock in his jacket pocket, checked the magazine, felt his pants pocket for
the other two, and moved into the woods.
He removed his cap and his sunglasses―no use for them here.
They’d
never done two at once.
This was an
experiment to see if they could do so easily.
“No idea.
Don’t know if she’ll take the bait.”
“Do you
think she saw the photos?”
“I’m
sure she did.”
“That
could do it.”
“Could
isn’t will.
But this is an
experiment.
We’ll see if she takes
my advice and ends her life.
I
t’s
doubtful―we both went into this knowing that―but it could
happen.
Shame could undo her.
The threat of exposure could lead her to
her own death.
We’ll see.”
“You
need to hurry, Kenneth.”
“Can you
see her?”
“Barely.
She’s fast.
And I fell.
But she fell twice.”
“Don’t
lose her.”
“I don’t
intend to.”
“If you
shot her right now, in the calf or something, would it be too soon?”
“I think
so.
She’s wearing high-heeled
boots.
She’s barely keeping ahead
of me.
She can’t win this.”
“Agreed.”
“You’ll
have time to get here.”
“I’m on
my way.
Keep after her.
I’m coming.
I promise.”
“I can’t
wait for this, Kenneth.”
“Same
here.”
He
clicked off his phone.