Sentenced to Heaven

Chapter Three-1

Chapter Three

Surrender

“Leaving for school?”

Alex Junior and Senior crossed paths on the portico as the latter returned from work. Though it was as mild as any April around here, a heavy cover of clouds was bringing an early dusk down. The old man looked askance at his dark blue jeans and gray-and-black patterned pullover and started up the old argument again.

“Why don’t you take one of the cars for Christ’s sake?”

“Because getting behind the wheel still terrifies me.”

“Jesus! Are you going to spend the rest of your life cringing?”

Alex refused to rise to the insult.

“No. But I am going to avoid unnecessary anxiety triggers whenever possible – just like my doctors advised. I’ll get back behind the wheel when I’m ready.”

Still the old man wouldn’t quit. Frowning imperiously, he pulled out his pipe and began loading it before the front door.

“Well, then why not take a cab or have someone drive you? The butler can do it.”

“Why burn fuel and create smog just to go a mile and a half? People evolved for foot travel. It’s what separated us from the apes. Walking keeps me in shape. It gives me time to prepare for and then digest my lessons. This country’s fat and dumb and polluted enough.”

“Maybe so. But at least change your clothes. It’s getting dark out. You want to get hit by a car or something?”

This latest insensitivity at last stung Alex into anger.

“That’s what I’m hoping for!”

He turned and began striding vehemently away. His father’s hectoring followed him.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, get over it already! With that kind of attitude, maybe you should just keep on walking and don’t come back!”

“Maybe I will,” Alex shot back, cutting across the lawn to hasten his escape.

The slamming door resounded behind him and he savored getting the last word in for once. Still he stalked on, his gait keeping pace with his seething. It wasn’t until he’d left the manicured grounds of the estate and was well down the street that he stopped replaying the exchange in his head and slowed to an amble.

It was no use getting worked up over trifles. What was yet another clash with the asshole old man compared to the shrieking of a burning baby? And he hadn’t actually been honest. He had no intention of using the walk to think about his lessons. And being hit by a car was far too good for him – unless he was perhaps incinerated by a drunk. There would be poetic justice in that. But such a happenstance would rob him of active agency in his own end. Hearing of it, Mrs. Blaine might be gratified that justice was done. But she would never know he’d willingly tried to make recompense. Killing himself was the only way to send that message.

Yet how to see that the message was received? This is what occupied Alex on his walks, as it did most of his other waking hours. How could he stage his death so that it made a big enough splash to get blanket media attention?

No doubt this was what nuts all over the world wondered. Alex wasn’t about to go shoot up a school. Yet with that to compete with, who cared about a lonely hanging? Even if he did it from the Golden Gate Bridge it would barely merit a minute on the local newscast.

Worrying the problem as always, Alex eventually found that in an absent kind of way he was almost enjoying the quiet, gloomy beauty of the exclusive residential neighborhood as dark continued to shroud it. Morose as this emotion was, he welcomed it in place of his habitual evisceration. Unfortunately the reprieve was short-lived.

As soon as the easing of his heart made him lift his head, Alex saw where he was going.

Having crossed an intersection without more than perfunctorily checking for traffic, he was now passing along the flank of Hill Haven cemetery.

Here was where his victims were interred. This was why he insisted on walking to school – to remind himself every day (as if he needed to) of his crimes and obligations. No doubt his parents considered this morbid or unhealthy and that was why they were constantly after him to abandon the practice. Alex insisted he was merely paying sorrowful tribute and of course he was. But that didn’t detract from his more fatal motivations.

Heading along the wrought-iron fence (eight feet high and spear-tipped at the top, or he might have scaled it to visit the graves yet again), darkness closed both without and within him. In addition to heavy overhang from the cemetery, more trees lined the way between the sidewalk and avenue stretching ahead, shrouding the now widely spaced street lights.

With no traffic to spoil the illusion it was almost like walking down a tunnel at times. Alex’ steps began to plod as the screams started up in his head again, so real they might have been right in his ear. A wind picked up at the same time, thrashing the surrounding foliage, and it seemed the ethereal deceased harried him for daring to profane their remains. Wearier by the second of his burden of torment, the repentant killer suddenly found himself weakening as unexpectedly as he’d almost been happy. With no way to satisfactorily advertise his end, why not give up and get it over with already?

His shirt would suit as a noose. Every dozen or so yards along the way ahead he saw branches sturdy enough to resist the wind. He could do it right here. Or even better, if he could use one of those limbs to help him get over the fence after all, he could placate the shades he sensed around him and do it right at their resting place.

That would send the message all right. And even if Mrs. Blaine never learned of it, was it really so imperative that she know? Perhaps she was attempting to put all this behind her. Maybe, unlike him, she was capable of that. She’d gone far away, abandoning these graves, to start afresh somewhere else. She might be happier without the reminder.

Feeling tears stinging and trickling again, Alex slowed even further. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves. Blinking them clear, he looked up and down the street as he continued. With the cemetery on one side (closed for the night) and the estates opposite as large as their own, there were no houses currently in sight. The only vehicle on the road was parked and dark.

In the shadow between two oaks a short way ahead sat a rugged-looking SUV, with jacked wheels for off-road work and heavily tinted windows. On approach it appeared as deserted as the rest of the area, though given that tint and its semi-concealment by the trees it could just as likely be hiding kids out boozing or screwing. Alex might have chosen just such a spot himself some night on his way home with a date.

In any case, once he was past it, and knew for sure he was unobserved, he could see about proving he wasn’t so separated from the apes that he couldn’t get over that goddamn fence.

Even in his extremity though, some part of Alex woke up and protested at this failure of duty. That last hidden sliver of his last hope refused to be squeezed out even now. It reminded him of a tiny nod and a shared glance of understanding. It chided him that he’d made a promise to let the magnificent woman he’d so horribly wronged come and kill him herself.

He’d only been out of custody a month. Had he given her a fair opportunity or was he reneging on that agreement? And what of his suspicion that she’d disappeared not for emotional but rather strategic reasons? How much more gratifying it would be if he could drown in those extraordinary eyes as he died! How orgasmically happy it would make him to be killed by her personally, his debt to her paid at last!

Caught between these qualms and scouting for suitable branches – one appeared to be growing from the tree just past that SUV – Alex closed in on the vehicle cautiously.

He was still wary of disturbing necking kids and looking like a pervert – or at least a different kind than he’d lately become. He was only a few steps away when the door suddenly opened, giving him such a start he almost dropped the tablet computer he carried. Then his jaw did drop, as out stepped the answer to his prayers – and the focus of that perversion.

***

She hadn’t bothered with a disguise or even a ski mask. What would be the point, with those unmistakable breasts? In her army cap and other martial garb Alex recognized his nemesis immediately. He almost fainted in relief.

Even in the gloom those eyes were incandescent, and the pitiless lust for vengeance blazing in them was the most welcome thing he’d ever seen. He came another couple steps toward her as that rangy body straightened to confront him. Then he stopped and bowed low, presenting his neck for severing. His voice scraped in a suddenly dry mouth and throat.

“Good evening, Missus Blaine. It can’t tell you what an enormous relief it is to see you here. I had about despaired.”

She studied him a moment, one hand in her pocket no doubt gripping a weapon. Then she spoke. Heard for the first time (she’d refused to speak at the hearing, disposition or to the media) her voice had a distinctive husky timbre that instantly awoke the erotic hold she had on him.

“I’ve come for you, boy.”

“I’m incredibly glad, ma’am. As I said, I’m so hugely relieved it’s beyond belief. I’ll surrender quietly. Do you want me on my knees?”

She studied him a moment more, searching for any evidence of artifice. Seeing only honesty, she smiled coldly at him and shook her head bemusedly.

“Get in the back of the truck. But take a piss first. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

She was ‘taking him for a ride’. Alex smiled widely and looked around again. The street remained deserted. They were far from the nearest lights. Between the shielding trees and the bulk of the SUV they were blocked from sight anyway. Still mindful of the twenty-first century surveillance state Alex looked up at the fence stanchions too. She seemed to read his mind.

“There are security cameras along the cemetery perimeter. But I hacked in and glitched them. Hurry up though, before someone comes.”

Without argument Alex turned to the nearest tree, unzipped and unlimbered himself. While he splashed the bole, Mrs. Blaine moved around and opened the rear of her vehicle. As he’d gone shortly before leaving the house, his stream was brief. He zipped back up and turned toward the now yawning cargo hold.

His abductor waited, that hand now out of her pocket and gripping what looked like a taser. While he would welcome its savage bite, Alex had no intention of making her use it. This was his carefully-nurtured dream come true.

“Get inside, quickly!”

Eager to demonstrate his willingness, he practically dove through the raised hatchback. Though it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, I was almost black inside. Still his dark-adapted eyes were equal to it.

The space he’d entered was mostly empty, the rear seats removed. Between the front two sat a cooler, the litter bag hung above this overflowing with plastic bottles and snack wrappers. On the floor before him were a canvas bag and a large, black metal toolbox. Stamped ‘Die-Hard’ on the side, this was about the size of a child’s coffin.

The lid was thrown open to show the empty interior and the dim light coming through the windshield glinted on ventilation slots cut through the sides. Though the box featured small wheels at the bottom corners for easy rolling across a garage or workroom floor, these were retracted and black rubber bungee cords had been used to secure it to the seat mounts – no doubt to further prevent it bouncing or sliding around during rough travel.

The implications made his scrotum crawl. Yet as Mrs. Blaine climbed in after him and closed the hatch, making his abduction irrevocable, both the proximity of her body in the close quarters and the culmination she represented magnified the eroticism he felt in surrendering to her. The smell of sweat and mature woman coming from her made him begin twitching toward erection. That rough whiskey voice quickened this. The ice chilling her tone and the orders she delivered should have terrified him. Yet Alex’ obedience was unconsidered.

“Get in the box, on your belly, legs bent back and arms behind you!”

His relief still overwhelming, even feeling a poignant joy that he was going to be allowed to make the in-person expiation he craved, the criminal handed his incriminating tablet over. Then he followed the perverse urging of his rapidly hardening organ into that confinement.

Even with his limbs folded behind him he barely fit, his shoulders bowed and wedged between the sides. His erection was squashed against the hard metal bottom. He squirmed to position this more comfortably, which only brought it full to raging. Rummaging in that canvas sack as he settled into his prison, Mrs. Blaine was still barely a foot away. When she took his wrists and drew them together at the base of his spine, the touch of her hands and the strength of her sure authority stirred him almost to a frenzy of submissive fealty. When she handcuffed him he couldn’t help but moan with that first taste of his perverted need being fed.

Just as swiftly she cuffed his ankles together, passing the shackling chain through the one between his wrists as she did, so that his bound hands and feet were linked. Alex moaned again, this time squirming instinctively in an excess of suicidal arousal. His captor breathed sadistic spite at him out of the dark.

“How does it feel to be hogtied boy, and my terminal captive now?”

Alex was glad she asked. Helpless in his cramped package, the box’ similitude to a coffin was suddenly overpowering. Die-hard. The recognition that she might now be planning to bury him alive, throw him weighted into the ocean or even slow-roast him in a giant oven was suddenly immediate, both terrifying and sexually thrilling. His voice quavered and cracked.

“It feels righter than anything in my life, ma’am. I’m blessed by this chance to pay for my sins. Thank you so much. Please punish me the way the corrupt state would not.”

Mrs. Blaine was silent for a minute, as if still trying to judge his sincerity. Obviously he wasn’t the typical kidnap victim. When she spoke it was with provisional satisfaction.

“I believe you mean it, boy. Good for you. Still I can’t risk you howling or crying out, perhaps in a claustrophobic panic. But nor can I risk a hard gag. People have been known to asphyxiate, and that’s too easy an end after what you’ve done. If you’re going to choke to death, I want it to be on your severed genitals. So say goodnight, sweet prince.”

She yanked at the back of his pants, making him gasp as his threatened erection was wrenched. Then something stabbed painfully into his just-bared buttock. Alex heard the hissing of a jet injection. He’d just been shot up with something. The next – and last – thing he was aware of was the metallic clangor of the box lid closing and locking.

***

Her objective accomplished, Rachel moved up to the driver’s seat. All day she’d been feeling the old excitement, the thrill and challenge of an important mission. Now she felt the familiar, badly missed exultation of a perfect success.

She’d been prepared to wait until classes had finished at eleven. If the first chance proved inopportune, she could still make her move as Downing was returning. But this was much better.

Now she had at least a three-hour head start. Even in the worst case scenario, she’d have him two hundred miles away before anyone thought to look for the bastard. With luck he wouldn’t be missed until mid-morning, by which time he’d be hidden underground up in the mountains, half this state-the-size-of-a-country away. They’d be safe from discovery forever.

As she started the engine, Rachel looked over at the cemetery one last time.

She’d spent the past hour and a half sitting here communing with Jimmy and Caitlyn, wishing she could visit their resting places one final time.

The cemetery closed at seven. She could have made it, but not with any surety of being unobserved. She couldn’t afford to leave any rumor or trace that she’d ever been near this place. Instead she’d basked in memories of her charming darling, and her perfectly lovely little girl, hardening herself to her purpose here. She’d repeated the promises she’d made to them earlier, and daily since their unbelievably cruel deaths. Alex Downing would pay! Now she raised a cheer for them, celebrating the successful beginning of that avenging.

It had taken over a year and a half and two million dollars, but she finally had their killer within her power. She blew her babies a kiss then, her heart aching afresh before the old fury that was her only alternative to grief returned. After that she put the SUV in gear and pulled out, eager to get the criminal home and start exacting that payback.

She was all gassed up and wouldn’t need to stop. Hopefully the drive back would be just as uneventful as the trip down and as easy as the abduction itself.

Rachael was still marveling at her prisoner’s willingness.

Downing hadn’t been talking out his ass at all. He was determined and even eager to make amends to her however she deemed necessary. He was ready to get on his knees for the killing stroke the instant he saw her. Then he climbed into what could easily be his coffin with no hesitation at all. Were she to drop him in a hole and start shoveling in the dirt, he would probably use his last air thanking her.

He must be seriously tortured indeed by what he’d done. She hadn’t needed the taser at all, and probably could have even gotten away without sedating him. Spending the next six hours locked in a metal box, bouncing around every bump and wondering if he’d ever emerge from it would have made a fitting beginning to his payback. Too bad.

As bitter as she was though, as filled with fury and determination to make her captive suffer for his crimes, Rachel began to feel a grudging respect for him.

Leaving the town they’d both grown up in (if on decidedly different sides) and heading north into the night, she had to acknowledge that Alex Downing was not the spoiled, entitled, snot-nosed pretty-boy rich kid she’d assumed.

He’d proven his honor, and no small amount of bravery, by keeping the promise he’d made to her. Right there that made him a better man than many she’d served with. He was no heartless rapist anyway, cowardly preying on the powerless.

He’d done an unforgivable thing, but at least he recognized this and had committed himself to suffer whatever the aggrieved party considered necessary in return. For that she esteemed him even as she imagined ever more terrible tortures for him. In the end, should he continue to impress her so, it might not be out of the question for her to make his finish a bit quicker and cleaner than her original intentions.