These
two sample chapters are from the novel Box Cutter Killer and
are used for these promotional purposes only with permission by the
publisher; Wheelman Press. This material is under copyright (2013)
by Curt Wiser and all rights and restrictions still apply; any
portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This
is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or
any similarity of events depicted herein to real life incidents, are
purely coincidental.
[ There are some formatting issues in this posting, I apologize and will work to correct it. ]
CHAPTER 14
I am jostled out of sleep, my cell
phone rings on the coffee table. I hear some generic version of a
pop song that I hate.
That’s the ring tone I use
for any calls that come from numbers not
programmed into my phone.
I close my eyes, the bright morning
sun pierces through my eyelids. My head aches and all I want to do
is go back to sleep. I turn on my side, nestle my face into the back
of the couch. It doesn’t do any good. That damn phone is
still ringing; it vibrates so hard that it moves up against one
of the empty beer bottles, it lets out a high pitched jingle.
I don’t want to answer the phone,
everyone knows not to call me this early. Fine, I’ll just get rid
of this, turn my ringer off and pass out in my bed.
“Hello,” I answer.
“It’s time to wake up,” The
Caller says. The Caller’s voice, his voice is strange.
It sounds altered, like a voice on
TV when they interview someone who wants to conceal their identity.
“If you’re a fox maybe.... who
is this?” I ask.
I recline on the couch and rub the
sleep out of my eyes. “Someone who enjoys watching you,” The
Caller says.
I sit up, that gave me the chills,
the way he said it. Don’t hang up Ges.
This has to be that deranged client
of mine. The guy who threatened to kill me.
“You’re going to have to be
more specific man, I’m popular in
that regard,” I say.
Need to know who this is, this could
be my only chance. “My, what a pretty voice you have,” The
Caller says.
Wish I could say the same for you
buddy, he sounds like a robot on crack.
“I’m hanging up now,” I
say.
“That would be a mistake,” he
says urgently. On my feet now, I’ve had enough.
“Give me one reason?” I
ask.
“I’d ask what you’re wearing
but I can see for myself,” The
Caller says.
I
look all around the living room. Nothing is out of place, no sign of
break in.
“Don’t believe you,” I say.
This is just some prank; he’s just
trying to scare me. I’m not scared, don’t give him anything he
wants.
“Pink and white elastic pants and
a ‘Screw U’ T-shirt,” The
Caller says in his deep voice.
I’m scared now, try to contain it
Ges.
My shirt has a design with the
letter ‘U’ and a giant screw going through it.
How could he know that?
Quickly, I move to my front door and
check the dead bolt. It’s locked.
The Caller laughs.
I
listen closely as I stand by the door, motionless.
“Do you know how easy it is to
bump a lock?” He asks.
I am against the wall now, in the
narrow passage by the front door. Think Gessica. He can see
you, how?
What the hell does he want and why
would he call me like this to get it?
Brace yourself.
You have to be prepared for
anything. Because anything can surely come.
My baby.
I run as fast my legs can manage
toward the baby’s room.
In the commotion it’s hard to hear
my phone but it sounds like he’s laughing again.
I
near the open door to the baby’s room. Baby Girl is there, she is
alright.
The window in the room, good, it’s
locked.
My baby sleeps soundly, completely
innocent and unencumbered. What now?
“I always wanted to ask you
girls,” The Caller says.
I have to check the windows in the
living room, make sure the place is secure.
“I see that you have the word
‘GIRL’ printed on the ass of your pants,” he says.
I enter the living room and reach
down toward my butt. I can feel the smooth lettering that is ironed
into the back of my sweatpants. The soft
thick cotton material of the
pants set the letters apart.
“Is the point of that to get
strangers to look at your ass, or do you think putting it there is
the only way they’ll get the message?” The Caller asks.
I stare out the large sliding glass
doors that lead to the patio, the blinds are wide open. All I can
see is a vast grass field and the wide enclosure of woods.
It is one giant green void with
patches of darkness between the trees, too many to count. If he is
out there, he could be anywhere.
“What no reply?” The Caller
asks. “That’s right,” I answer back.
“You’ll
learn to obey me soon enough,” he says.
Calmly, I step back further into the
living room. This way I’m not in plain sight from that patio
window.
“How did you get my number?” I
ask.
“They say the best thing about the
internet is also the worst, anyone can use it,” The Caller says.
Maybe this guy is not really out
there. He could have put cameras in here somehow. I could get my
daughter, drive off in my car and go straight to the police.
He may have messed with my car.
It could have cinder blocks for
wheels.
Only one way to find out.
I walk toward the front door.
I reach out to unlock the dead bolt.
“Don’t touch that door,” The
Caller says so loudly it distorts the sound of his voice even more.
I retract my hand and turn
around.
How did he see me?
I can see out the sliding glass
doors from here, that must be it. I cannot take this
anymore.
This vulnerability, the not knowing
what’s really going on here.
He has full control over this
situation. It’s time to change that.
You can do this Ges.
Do it.
I
charge for the glass doors so I can close the blinds.
Then I’ll grab the cordless house
phone and call the cops from my baby’s room to make sure she’s
safe.
I fumble with the long plastic
rod to shut the blinds.
Got it, I start to slide the blinds
to the left to close --
-- I hear the muffled sound of a
gunshot.
I dive away from the window, shards
of glass fall around me. I hear everything and feel
nothing.
Is this me on the floor?
Can this really be happening?
A
single shiver runs from my neck down my spine.
My heart beats so fast I can feel
the blood course through the arteries on the sides of my neck.
This must be what they call fight or
flight. I remember learning about it in tenth grade health class but
never thought I would be forced to experience it. The whole thing
about it making time slow down is bullshit.
My cell phone sits on the carpet
about a foot in front of me.
I turn my head to look back; the
slats of the blinds are open and only cover part of the window.
The sliding glass door on the left
is shattered. Jagged sections of the glass still cling to the
corners of the frame.
The blinds sway back and forth, they
make a soft clapping sound as they knock into each other.
Well now I know he’s armed. So I better move my ass. I’m not scared anymore, I’m terrified. Try to contain it Ges. At least you’re still alive.
CHAPTER 15
I grab my cell phone off the carpet
as I go into a crouching position against the wall to take cover
behind the mini fridge. My hand trembles as I bring the phone to my
ear.
“That almost scared the
silicone out of ya’ didn’t it sweetcakes?
The Caller asks.
“Why are you doing this?” I
ask.
“Glad you asked, would you be
interested in changing your internet provider?” He asks with a
laugh.
My mind races. My whole body feels
supercharged, like I could run a marathon but I can’t go anywhere.
“If
you want to live, listen carefully to my rules,” The Caller says.
I stand, my back slides against the
wall. “Rules?” I ask.
I don’t believe I’m hearing
this.
Two loud clicks echo in my ear from
the other end, it’s the unmistakable sound of a rifle cocking.
“I thought I said listen, see
that’s when I talk and you don’t,” he says.
I swallow instead of speaking. My
throat is dry, probably from all that beer last night.
“First rule, all the blinds stay
open,” he says.
The Caller’s ominous voice is
still altered, guess I’ll have to get used to it.
I feel something, not pain but some
sense that I’m hurt.
“You had to learn that one the
hard way, consider it a warning shot,” he says.
Then I see it, I look down in a
state of shock. A cut about the length of a clothes pin runs
diagonally across my upper right arm.
“Second, you can’t hang up on me
until the game is over,” he says.
It’s a thin wound, the bleeding isn't too bad. I see what looks like a small piece of glass wedged
into the bloody bit of exposed skin.
My eyes are fixed upon the cordless
phone sitting in a charger on the pass through counter of the
kitchen. The phone sticks up at attention waiting for me to grab it. I move for it.
“Third, slide that cordless phone
in front of the window,” he says.
The Caller said that the instant I
grabbed the phone. I’m standing in front of the large dining room window. It’s like I’m living in a glass house.
“Do it now,”
The Caller says forcefully.
I slide the house phone on the
dining room table then raise my free hand and step away from it.
That’s it, let him think you will
play by his rules. He’ll let his guard down, then you’ll get
your chance.
“That phone stays there as long as
you’re not on it.... and yes, I'll ask you to make some
calls with it,” The Caller says. He’s
enjoying this; I can hear it in his voice.
“The last rule, the game is not
over until you call all of your
ex-boyfriends since high school and
confess the ways you used and manipulated them,” he says.
“What?” I reply.
“If you succeed and they don’t
hang up on you, I’ll leave you alone and you can call the police,”
he says.
“Maybe I’ll just call them now,”
I say.
I look down at the phone, ready to
grab it and duck under the table.
“The best response time is four to
six minutes,” The Caller quickly adds.
My attention turns to the
window in front of me and The Caller’s voice.
“I can break in there and take
care of you before they’d even be on the way, besides; you wouldn't want to leave your baby motherless would you?” The Caller asks.
That shakes me to the core. I stand
there, my mind and body are filled with violent rage. I wish this
guy was in front of me, right here, right now.
“Hello, you still with me?” He
asks.
“Stay the fuck away from my
child,” I yell.
I move up to the window as if I was
face to face with him. The bright sun constricts the pupils in my
eyes, I’m wide awake now.
“And in rare form I see, do
you have any questions before we
begin?” He asks in a calm
composed tone.
“Yeah just one, why me, why are
you doing this?” I ask. “That was two questions,” he
says.
I hit the glass window, hard.
“Talk,” I say.
“I picked you because you made
yourself available, you’re not exactly an introvert,” he says.
I start to slump as my captor’s
voice continues, he does not stop. “As for why I’m
doing this, I hope you’ll learn that on your
own,” he says.
Okay Ges, you just have to stay
strong. “Now, let’s make some calls,” he says.
[ END SAMPLE ]
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Box Cutter Killer is Published by WheelMan Press.
