The Immortal Gene Read online

  Jake understood that he couldn’t kill Edwin. It wasn’t in him no matter how much he wanted to. It would be better to see Edwin in prison, suffering until he died a lonely old man behind bars.

  The lights were out at Edwin’s home. Jake walked by and continued to the house next door. At a row of bushes, he took a left and walked the length of them until he got to the corner of the house.

  He squeezed through a hole near the base of the dense foliage and crawled onto Edwin’s property. He took a moment to sniff the air, feel the ground for predators. When the air was clean and the ground still, Jake got up and started for the rear of Edwin’s house, staying as quiet as possible.

  He tried the rear door, but it was locked.

  Of course.

  After a look over his shoulder, Jake gripped the knob, tightened the pressure until he was afraid he’d dent it, and began to turn it. He continued even after he met resistance. The device inside the door creaked. He added pressure by degrees. Then more.

  Something snapped quietly, muffled by the door’s outer frame, and the knob slipped off in his hand. Jake tossed the broken piece into the bushes and slipped his fingers inside the hole in the door. He forced the lock’s parts to the left, away from the door frame.

  The door popped open a crack.

  He leaned forward and breathed.

  Edwin was home.

  The smell of the man was too strong to be a residual odor. But there was something else. The faint smell of Megan Radcliffe and a stronger smell of Kirk.

  Kirk? He frowned. Why Kirk?

  Could Kirk’s scent be from Edwin’s clothes? Or had Edwin brought Kirk to his house?

  A funny thought occurred to him. Why all the stealth? Why not just break down the front door and tear through the house until he found Edwin and forced the truth from him, broken bone by broken bone? There was nothing Edwin could do to stop the immortal Jake. It would be a lot faster and simpler. Maybe not as quiet, but faster. And if a life was in jeopardy, Jake needed a sense of urgency.

  Old habits died hard. He preferred to stay the same, to remain a man and think like a man. Not act and think like the immortal he had become. To be that way would be boasting, reveling in the fact that he was better than everyone else. This Immortal Gene needed to be his backup card and not the first card he played.

  He stood in the dark kitchen, closed his eyes, and listened.

  Nothing. Not a single sound.

  Edwin’s odor grew stronger. The smell of fear, anxiety, mixed with excitement. He was definitely here, hiding somewhere. Awake, but in the dark.

  Aware?

  Did Edwin expect him? How? Why? Wouldn’t Adam have assured him that Jake was dead? Hadn’t that been the deal? Adam handled Jake and Edwin dealt with Kirk?

  Maybe not. Maybe Edwin was supposed to handle Jake, too. That would explain why Adam left Jake alone with enough time to break loose and kill his men. If so, it was a risky game Adam was playing. A dangerous game for an immortal man.

  Perhaps Adam hadn’t had this much fun in years. How long would it have been since Adam had another immortal man to spar with? Edwin was simply a pawn in Adam’s bigger game. The world needed to know and Edwin needed to suffer in prison.

  Following Edwin’s scent, Jake left the kitchen and stopped by the stairs to the basement. Edwin had gone down there.

  To test the strength of the scent, Jake moved into the living room. The strong scent diminished. He stepped into the dining room. Diminished. Back in front of the stairs, the scent was strong. But so was Kirk’s smell. And even Megan had a stronger scent.

  What the fuck was down there?

  He nudged the basement door open and stopped on the second stair. The smell of fear was pungent. Anxiety was mixed with seething rage. Edwin was waiting and he meant to do Jake harm. But what could he possibly have that would be a threat? Jake didn’t think Edwin would bother him, but something inside Jake, the human element, still warned him to not move forward.

  He placed his hand on the light switch beside his head and waited another heartbeat, then flicked on the lights, illuminating the entire basement.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  A comfortable leather chair, a recliner, was placed directly at the bottom of the stairs. If Jake had walked down the stairs in the dark, he would’ve bumped into it.

  Edwin sat in the recliner, a huge gun cradled in his hands. His face glistened with sweat, eyes bulging.

  “Adam said you’d come,” Edwin whispered, his voice deep. “I thought you’d be dead by now. But I guess not. So Adam told me to kill you.”

  Jake dropped one step. “You could try.”

  He anticipated the gun blasting into his abdomen with each step, but he dropped another step anyway.

  Could he ever get used to being shot? The initial shock, the pain, which almost immediately subsided. How could he get used to that?

  “Not one step farther,” Edwin warned. “Sit on the stairs. Wait for Adam. He’ll come. He wants to talk to you.”

  Jake stopped with six stairs separating them. He gripped the wooden bannister.

  “Where’s Megan Radcliffe?” Jake asked.

  “None of your concern.”

  “Did you kill Terry?”

  “Adam did.”

  “Why?”

  “None of your concern.” After saying those four words a second time, Edwin smiled. “My business is my business and your business is with Adam. Sit down on the stairs and wait. Or move closer and die. It’s not mathematical. It’s actually rather simple.”

  Jake stared at him a moment, his mouth open, taking in the scents. Kirk’s deodorant, his aftershave, his pheromones, were all stronger down here. Edwin had brought Kirk to the basement alive, he was sure of it.

  “Where’s the safe room that Steve put in here recently?”

  Edwin’s mask broke and he tilted his head. When he scrunched up his brow in thought, a series of lines formed large crow’s feet beside each eye.

  Jake sat on the steps slowly to be able to take in more of the basement. On his left, a large book case had been placed up against the wall. From where he sat, the bookcase looked brand new. It had to be the bookcase Steve had referred to on the phone.

  “Behind that bookcase,” Jake said as he nodded toward it, “what will I find?”

  Edwin raised the gun higher. “Shut up. Stop talking.” The distinctive sound of the safety clicking off could be heard throughout the basement. “Just shut the fuck up!”

  He had hit pay dirt. Edwin had them in his soundproof safe room.

  “Edwin Gavin,” Jake said, his voice non-threatening, his tone even. “I’m going to get up now and approach you—”

  “I said shut the fuck up!” Edwin raised the weapon to his eye to put Jake in his sights.

  “And you’re going to open that safe room door.”

  “Shut UP!”

  “Do you understand me?” Jake shouted back.

  Edwin’s trigger finger moved.

  Jake pulled upward with his hands and launched off the stairs in a perfect dive as the weapon in Edwin’s hand fired. A bullet struck his chest, knocking him sideways and causing him to smack into Edwin’s shoulder. They lay sprawled on the floor.

  Edwin mumbled to himself several times as he scrambled to his feet, but Jake didn’t move. The bullet had torn into his chest and hit something vital. A lung was punctured, or the bullet lodged itself in his heart.

  Jake closed his eyes and waited.

  And tried to breathe.

  Edwin’s foot stirred him. Jake opened his eyes. Edwin stood over him, staring down, a smile pasted to his lips.

  “They came for my father once,” Edwin said. “He died with a smile.” Edwin pulled his foot back and kicked Jake in the side hard enough to crack a rib. Jake grunted, blinked at the pain, then refocused on Edwin. “You’re a cop, Mr. Coma Man, and you came for me. But you’re the one who’s going to die along with your old partner, Kirk. You’ll both die painfully.”

 
What was he saying? Kirk is still alive?

  “Payback for what happened to my father. Payback for making me kill him all those years ago. I didn’t care about my mother.” Edwin shook his head so hard, sweat dripped off his face. “No, fuck her. She’s a woman. It was my father that mattered and he’s dead because of men like you, men who matter in society. Men who try to stop me. Well, guess what? You don’t matter.”

  The confession would reopen that case. The kidnapping of Megan Radcliffe and Kirk and now the attempted murder of Jake would create a host of charges. If only he could get his body back under control.

  Edwin walked around Jake and set the gun down. He picked something else up, walked away, did something over by the bookcase, and then came back to stand over Jake.

  “Kirk’s alive, but barely. I have him in the other room. In the safe room—” Edwin stopped talking and stared off into space, unblinking. He refocused and blinked rapidly as he lowered his head and looked down at Jake. “How did you know about Steve? Did he tell you about the safe room?”

  Jake tried to move his mouth but nothing worked yet.

  Edwin kicked him in the side. Jake winced.

  “Tell me,” Edwin shouted. “Did Steve blab about me? Huh? Who else knows about my safe room?”

  Jake couldn’t talk yet, so he mouthed the word everyone.

  Edwin grabbed his hair in a frantic gesture.

  “No,” he whispered. “It can’t be. It can’t be. No one was supposed to know.” He stopped moving, let go of his head and glanced back at Jake, squinting. “You’re lying to me. You’re trying to scare me.”

  Edwin lifted the Taser to his face, pressed the button once to display its power, then tased Jake in the side. Jake vibrated with the volts.

  Edwin turned off the Taser.

  Jake took a deep breath. He could breathe again.

  Edwin tased him once more.

  Whatever Edwin had done, he’d restarted Jake’s system. When Edwin stopped the Taser the second time, Jake was fully awake, fully aware. All his energy was back, his strength, his ability, and his anger, which rolled over him like a sheet of sandpaper, stimulating his skin.

  Edwin grabbed Jake’s arms and dragged him along the floor. Jake allowed himself to be dragged across Edwin’s basement floor, eyes open slightly to monitor his progress. They passed through a door. The walls were different. The lighting was different, too.

  They were definitely inside the safe room now.

  Was he strong enough to break down a safe room door? Whether he was or not, he didn’t want to be put to the test.

  Edwin let Jake’s hands go and moved around him, headed for the door. Jake arched his head back and saw a woman on a bed, her head dangling over the side of the mattress, eyes closed. Based on the smell, that was Megan Radcliffe.

  Beside the bed, strapped to a chair, his head resting on his chest, was Kirk.

  Jake couldn’t contain the anger anymore. He sprang off the floor and landed on his feet. Edwin was already at the door, stepping outside the safe room, mumbling something to himself. Edwin walked around the thick, solid door, and began pushing it back in place.

  Jake ran. Two steps, three. Then he leapt. At the second the lock was about to engage, Jake smashed his shoulder into the door, jolting it open a few feet.

  Edwin yelled, startled.

  Jake fell to the floor in a heap, grabbed the outer edge of the doorframe, and pushed, forcing the door open as Edwin screamed from the outside.

  Once Jake secured his feet on the doorframe, he shoved as if he was doing a squat at the gym, using the power of his thighs to open the door all the way. It moved so fast, Edwin was knocked aside.

  Jake rolled away from the open door, and, like a cat, got on his feet and hands and lunged at Edwin. He tackled the whining man, grabbed him around the throat with his left hand, and punched Edwin with his right.

  “I thought I shot you,” Edwin shouted as blood spurted from his mouth.

  Jake punched him again.

  “I tased you,” Edwin said as more blood shot from a broken tooth.

  He didn’t try to fight back, just struggled and protested.

  “I thought you’d die,” Edwin mumbled through his broken mouth.

  Then Jake punched him one more time, breaking more teeth and knocking Edwin out.

  He let the murderer drop where his blood began to stain the carpet. Jake angled Edwin’s head so the man wouldn’t choke on his own teeth.

  After a couple of deep breaths, Jake wiped his knuckles off on Edwin’s pants and got to his feet. He grabbed the back of the leather recliner and pulled it to the bookcase/door of the safe room, blocking the door in the open position. Once the door was secure, he entered the safe room and went to Kirk.

  Under Kirk’s neck, Jake found a weak pulse. He was alive, but barely. Kirk had been beaten. A tourniquet had been fashioned on Kirk’s leg where the bullet had hit him. Kirk needed a hospital and by the looks of Megan, she did, too. He checked her pulse, got a strong one, then made his decision.

  Not wasting any time, Jake ran from the safe room and looked for a phone. He found one on a table beside a reading chair. Exhausted and relieved, Jake plopped down in the chair and blew out a long sigh.

  After a quick glance at Edwin to make sure he was still unconscious, Jake grabbed the phone and dialed 911. He was transferred to Ambulance and requested they attend to the house on call display. Three people were in need of medical services, one of them being Homicide Detective Kirk Aiken. He told them to bring the police, too. Edwin Gavin needed to be arrested for kidnapping and murder. Then he hung up without waiting for a response.

  He rubbed his face and got up. He pulled the two guns from his waistband and wiped his prints clean, then wrapped Edwin’s hand around both, making sure to leave solid prints. He tossed both guns in a corner behind the reading chair. Let the police find those and match it to the bullet in Kirk’s leg.

  He was done with this case and didn’t want to be here when the police arrived. He didn’t want to be here if Adam arrived, either. He’d fought enough for one day. Kirk and Megan needed a hospital. Let them be tended to. Edwin could be arrested. Things needed to settle down. Then he would find Fortech Industries and deal with Adam.

  Upstairs, Jake walked through the house, turning on lights as he went, careful not to leave his fingerprints. At the end of the hallway, he entered a bedroom. It looked like a young boy’s room. Could Edwin have kids? Jake didn’t think so.

  A scrapbook sat on the desk in the corner. Jake moved closer, examining its cover. He brought his fingers to the lip of the book and eased it open with his knuckle.

  Inside were pictures of a woman and a boy. Pictures he recognized from somewhere. He flipped the book open further and saw a page with locks of hair.

  Jake frowned. What was this book? A scrapbook and a photo album put together?

  Then he read the names and memories of a distant past began to form. Memories of the case files he’d reviewed from the other night.

  - Jeff Lucas, Rosa Lucas, 2013.

  - Janelle Hapstead, Paula Hapstead, 2010

  - Christine Reilly, 2008

  - Sally Boyd, Marie Boyd, 2006

  Hands shaking, Jake flipped back a page and nearly dropped the cover of the book.

  - Melissa Marcello, Jason Marcello, 2015

  These were the names of the victims of the Blood Eagle Killer. Their locks of hair were compiled in the scrapbook like trophies, their sketched drawings taken from the pictures Edwin had stolen from each family’s home.

  Jake spun around and opened the bedroom closet. Inside, he came across more pictures. Family members from several of the houses the Blood Eagle Killer visited. A box on the shelf in the closet contained wedding rings that Jake knew would match Edwin’s victims.

  The thought of Edwin killing so many people, then adding the safe room to start a new venture of kidnapping women like Megan, made Jake boil over with rage. He fought every nerve in his body to not walk dow
nstairs and rip Edwin apart.

  Jake set the box back in the closet and brushed his fingerprints from it. He moved to the center of the room as the realization of what he had discovered settled over him.

  A blinding white-hot rage urged him to seek justice for the victims. The humanity in his reptilian brain slowly lost its grip as the predatory nature of a snake made him yearn for Edwin’s destruction.

  The only way to stop himself would be to leave the house. He had to get out. Exit the back door the same way he entered and disappear into the night. Let the police handle it. Let the authorities make their arrest. Edwin would never see the light of day. Killing him would only be a moment’s pleasure.

  Jake turned for the door, fully intending to walk down to the basement to murder Edwin, but knowing he had to leave. To stay in this house one more second was to commit murder. Jake couldn’t physically be around Edwin. He had to leave. He had to leave right now.

  He stepped into the hallway and headed for the kitchen.

  “I have to leave,” he whispered to himself. “Get out, Jake. Run.”

  The urge, the need, the draw, to run down the stairs to the basement, actually made him turn toward the stairs, but humanity won out by a thread. He entered the kitchen, then stopped short.

  The kitchen light shone on Edwin’s face grotesquely. His face had changed to a mask of smeared blood and deformed teeth. Edwin’s smile resembled something a Halloween mask strived to imitate.

  In Edwin’s hands, raised above his head, was an ax, in his eyes, insanity.

  “You’ll die ...” Edwin stammered, his speech altered as the landscape inside his mouth had changed, “for what you did to me.”

  Then Edwin threw the ax.

  At the sight of Edwin with the ax, Jake lost that thread of humanity. The names of the dead families echoed in his head as he jolted forward and ran into the ax’s blade. At impact, every smidgen of kindness toward his fellow man departed.