Every once in a while, a single murder, or a series of murders, horrifies1 us, catches the public’s imagination in an almost obscene way. Jeffrey Dahmer’s bizarre spree in Milwaukee, the murder of Gianni Versace and subsequent killings2 by Andrew Phillip Cunanan, the Russian, Andrei Chikatilo, reputed to be the worst. Now this bloody3 rampage on opposite coasts of the United States.
It was fortunate that we had the FBI helicopter to get us out of Savannah and over to Charlotte. While we were still in the air, Kyle was in contact with his operators on the ground, who had surrounded a ramshackle farmhouse4 about fourteen miles outside Charlotte. I had never seen Kyle so animated5 and excited about a case before, not even Casanova or the Gentleman Caller. ‘Looks like we caught a break,’Kyle said to me.’No one will get out of that house until we get there. I like our chances.’ ‘We’ll see,’I said.’I’m still not convinced these are the people we’re after.’ I had stopped making assumptions about the killers7. Why Charlotte, North Carolina? This would be the fourth attack in the same city. Had everything been leading us to Charlotte? Why?
Kyle listened to another situation report from agents on the scene, then he gave me the relevant details. A married couple - the parents of a seventeen-year-old Charlotte boy - were attacked in bed late last night. Both bludgeoned to death. A claw hammer was found at the scene. There were bites on the bodies. There’s evidence that either alarge animal attacked the two adults, or the assailant was wearing sharpened metal fangs8.’ Kyle rolled his eyes. He still didn’t have much truck with vampires9.
“Their son was seen leaving the house, with blood dripping from his mouth. The assailant then fled to an abandoned farmhouse near the Loblolly River outside Charlotte. As far as we know, the people loitering in the house are mostly teenagers. Apparently10, some are as young as twelve or thirteen. It’s a mess, Alex. Everything is on hold until we get there. The age of some of these kids is a real problem.’ A little more than ten minutes later we landed in a wide meadow brimming with wildflowers. We were less than three miles from the farmhouse. This was Bonnie & Clyde stuff. By the time we got to the thick woods surrounding the house it was past five o’clock. It would be dark soon enough.
The house was a two-story, wood-framed structure obscured by an overgrowth of wisteria and myrtle. Pine cones11, hickory nuts, and what are known locally as sweet gum monkey balls covered the ground where we hid and watched. Everything about the place brought back memories of where I had grown up in the South. Not too many happy moments unfortunately. My mother and father had both died in their thirties, well before their time. My therapist has a theory that I see myself dying young because both my parents did. The Mastermind seems to hold a similar theory, and perhaps wants to put it into action soon.
The roof of the old house was sharply pitched; a narrow attic12 window was broken in two places. The peeling, white-painted clapboards were mostly intact, but the asbestos-shingled roof was bare in spots, revealing tar13 paper. Creepy, creepy, creepy. What in hell was going on here?
The FBI was super-sensitive to the fact that most of those inside the house were probably under twenty years old. They didn’t know exactly who they were or if any had police records. There was no actual proof they were involved with the murders. It was decided14 that as long as we remained undetected, we’d wait until night to see if anyone left or entered. Then we would move on the house. The situation was getting sticky, maybe political, and there would be consequences if a minor15 got hurt or killed. In sharp contrast, everything seemed peaceful in the woods around the house. The ramshackle building was strangely quiet, considering all the young people who were supposed to be in there. No loud laughter or rock music, no smells of cooking. Dim lights were flickering16.
My growing fear was that we were already too late.
Someone was whispering close to my ear - it was Kyle.
‘Let’s go, Alex. It’s time to move on them.’
At four in the morning, he gave the signal to breach17 the house.
Kyle was calling all the shots. He had authority over the locals, too.
I accompanied a dozen agents outfitted18 in blue windbreakers. Nobody was feeling too secure about the raid. We moved cautiously to within seventy-five yards of the house, at the edge of the pine forest. Two snipers, who had dug in about thirty yards from the house, radioed that it was still quiet inside. Too quiet? ‘These are mostly young kids,’ Kyle reminded us before we went in. ‘But protect yourselves first.’
We crawled on our hands and knees until we were as close as the snipers. Then we rushed the house, using three entrances to get inside.
Kyle and I went through the front, the others through the side and back. A couple of flash-bang grenades went off. There was screaming on the ground floor. High pitched. Kids. No gunshots - yet. It was a weird19, chaotic20 scene. Stoned kids - lots of them, most in their underwear or nude21. At least twenty teenagers had been sleeping on the ground floor. No electricity, just candles. The place smelled of urine, weed, mildew22, cheap wine, and wax. Clown Posse and Killah Priest posters were hung on the walls.
The tiny front hall and the living room merged23 into an open area. The kids had been asleep on blankets, or just the wooden floor. Now they were awake, and angry, shouting,’Pigs! Cops! Get the fuck out!’
Agents were rousting more of them on the second floor. There were fistfights, but still no gunshots. No one seriously hurt. A sense of anticlimax24.
A skinny boy screamed at the top of his voice and rushed at me. He seemed to have no fear of my drawn25 gun. His eyes were blood-red. Color contacts. He was growling26 and drooling frothy saliva27. I took him down in a head lock, cuffed28 him, told him to chill before he got himself hurt. I doubt that he weighed much more than a hundred and forty pounds, but he was wiry and stronger than he looked.
An agent near me wasn’t so lucky - a heavy-set redheaded girl bit him in the cheek as he was attempting to restrain her. Then the girl bit into his chest. The agent howled, and struggled to get her off. She held on like a dog with a bone.
I yanked the girl away and cuffed her arms behind her back. She wore a black T-shirt with’Merry Fuckin’Xmas Bitch’printed on it. She had tattoos29 of snakes and skulls30 everywhere. She was screaming in my face,’You are unworthy! You suck!’
‘The one we want is in the cellar! The killer6,’ Kyle called to me. Trwin Snyder!’ I followed him through a dysfunctional kitchen, then out back to a slanted31 wooden door that led to a cellar. We had our guns drawn. From what we knew about the viciousness and suddenness of the Irwin Snyder attacks, nobody wanted to go into the cellar. I yanked open the door and we edged inside. Kyle, two other agents and I went down three rickety wooden steps.
It was quiet and dark. An agent worked a flashlight around.
Then we saw the killer. He saw us too.
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1
horrifies
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| v.使震惊，使感到恐怖( horrify的第三人称单数 ) | |
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killings
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| 谋杀( killing的名词复数 )； 突然发大财，暴发 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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killers
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| 凶手( killer的名词复数 )； 消灭…者； 致命物； 极难的事 | |
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fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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vampires
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| n.吸血鬼( vampire的名词复数 )；吸血蝠；高利贷者；（舞台上的）活板门 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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outfitted
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| v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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chaotic
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| adj.混沌的，一片混乱的，一团糟的 | |
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nude
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| adj.裸体的；n.裸体者，裸体艺术品 | |
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mildew
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| n.发霉；v.（使）发霉 | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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anticlimax
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| n.令人扫兴的结局；突降法 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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saliva
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| n.唾液，口水 | |
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cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tattoos
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| n.文身( tattoo的名词复数 )；归营鼓；军队夜间表演操；连续有节奏的敲击声v.刺青，文身( tattoo的第三人称单数 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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