Face of Death

The parking lot was empty. He saw that as soon as he reached the edge of the trees, the broken-down fence he had been watching earlier. It seemed much larger now, without all of the cars to fill it. There was no one in sight, and even the lights of the fair had been turned off. Past the entrance, he saw the tall looming shapes of the dinosaur statues, like sentinels over the empty fair.

No one was here. It was closed, and everyone was gone.

He had missed his chance, after all.

He lingered, wanting to kick something or tear his hair out, fighting back an angry scream of frustration. What was he supposed to do now? There was no one here—no one to complete the pattern. He was never going to make it!

How could he have been so stupid? He should have covered his tracks better—made it less obvious that the pattern was in place. Maybe he should have moved more of the bodies right from the start, since it was the location of the kill that mattered! Why had it taken him so long to realize that? And why had he waited—sat in his car without making a move—instead of just going into the fair to make his attack earlier?

All hope was lost. He contemplated going into the fair and checking, just checking. Even so, a heavy weight had dropped into his stomach, and he did not know if he would even be able to move.

A light flashed out before him, illuminating the parking lot in a wide sweep, and he turned in fear. This night was getting worse by the minute. As the dazzle of the headlights faded from his eyes, he made out the insignia of the state police painted on the side of the car.

“Can I help you, sir?” the cop asked, leaning out the window. His voice had an accusatory tone. It was not really a question of help. The man understood that. It was a suspicion.

He had to think fast—tell him something that would take away the suspicion. Make him a normal person in the eyes of the cop. “I was here earlier, and I think I must have dropped my wallet,” he said quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets in an approximation of glumness. “Thought I would come and check, but looks like they’re closed up for the night.”

He waited then, tense. The cop was still inside his car—not an easy target. Maybe if he would get out, that would be a chance. He could loop the wire around his neck, catch him, make him tonight’s piece of the pattern. But he had wanted to avoid cops right from the beginning, avoid anyone that would make too much of a buzz. Cops wanted cop killers more than any other kind.

The other thing was that the cop might try to arrest him, and then he would have to do something. Pull the garrote out of his pocket and stop him before he got the cuffs on or radioed it in. The man couldn’t make out the cop’s eyes in the darkness, couldn’t read his facial expression. He had no idea what he would do next. He couldn’t even see how tall the cop was—what if he was too tall, too strong? He had targeted women for the most part, and for a reason. That first guy by the farm had almost overpowered him, almost gotten away. He couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t happen again.

“Well,” the cop drawled, making it take longer than it needed to, setting all of the man’s nerves on edge. “You’d best come back in the morning, son. We’re patrolling this area because of an arrest made here earlier. You can ask the staff tomorrow whether someone turned it in.”

The man scratched the back of his head, letting his shoulders slump. “Yes, sir,” he said, dropping into a lower tone, a disappointed sound. “Guess I’d better just hope for a good Samaritan tomorrow, then.”

The cop rolled up his window and started to peel out, and the man waited for the car to move before going as if to follow it. He walked toward the entrance to the parking lot, where it led out onto the road, as if he was about to walk out and back to his car.

And stopped as soon as the patrol car was out of sight, unwilling to leave the parking lot just yet. This was where it had to happen. There was no doubt about that. The pattern was clear. But how was he going to do that without any target in the area?

He lingered, unsure of what to do or where to go. There was nothing for him here, yet still he felt compelled to stay. All night, if need be, until the sun rose in the morning and it was finally all over.

But he did not have to wait until sunup. In fact, he barely had to wait long at all.

It had been just a matter of minutes since the departure of the state cop when another sound caught his ears. The light laughter and conversation of two voices coming from a distance away, far enough at first that he could hear sounds only and not make out words. They were originating somewhere in the fair, and seemed to be coming closer.