You Only Die Twice - By Christopher Smith Page 0,9
Let them waste their time. Let them pray and pray and pray. They’ll never get it. They’ll never understand the reason behind prayer, the reasons why you pray, or the importance of both.”
“You’re right. They won’t.”
“You know what? My mother called me a con. She said how can someone like me stand on the street corner with my abortion posters and my Bible, and also own pornography? Does she not get it? Looking at porn isn’t the sin. It’s simply the evidence of sin, something that needs to be noted and called out. It’s the whores posing naked for the photographs who are the sinners. Am I missing something here?”
“Not a thing, my friend.”
“And sex,” Kenneth said. “When I fuck a woman, I fuck her hard. I want her to hurt. I do it because I know it hurts. I do it because if I can pick her up at a bar, without us even knowing each other, then she’s nothing but some slut who needs to be dealt with. So, I pound the shit out of her. Slap her around. Sometimes―and I’m gonna be honest with you here, Ted―sometimes I want it all to end with my hands around their throats while I squeeze the life out of them.”
A silence passed.
“You feel that way, too?” Ted asked.
“I feel that way all the time. I’m never not thinking about it.”
“Ever do anything about it?”
This time, the silence stretched.
“Kenneth? Have you?”
“Yeah. Maybe. Maybe once.”
“Just maybe?”
“Once.”
“Just the once?”
“No.”
“How did it feel?”
“It felt right. It felt clean.”
“Each time?”
“More than each time.”
“How many times?”
“Eight times.”
“Ever fear of getting caught?”
“Is that even a question? You know He has our backs. I’ll never get caught. He has charged me with this and He will see me through on my mission.”
“I asked because I’ve done it, too.”
“You have?”
“I have. And I enjoyed it.”
“How many?”
“I’m proud to say that I’ve sent fourteen to Hell. And just like you, I’ll never get caught for the same reason. He believes in me. He will carry me through the brightest of days, and through my darkest hours.”
A week later, Kenneth Berkowitz was in Denver to meet Ted Carpenter for the first time. Though at twenty-six, Kenneth was sixteen years younger than Ted, it wasn’t just a meeting of the minds when they finally came face-to-face―each felt as if he had just met his long-lost brother.
Their killing spree began six weeks later in Nevada. Since then, they had murdered sixty-eight women, all deemed worthless whores by two men who believed in their souls that cleansing the world of these women was their divine right and purpose. And though once they nearly were caught in Austin, the law had yet to touch them even though the FBI and police forces all over the country knew about them. What those organizations didn’t have was anything that could link the killings to them. Ted and Kenneth were too careful. They were pros.
Jesus, after all, had their backs.
CHAPTER TEN
Before he entered the woods, Kenneth called Ted on his cell. When he answered and Kenneth heard the elated panting of Ted’s breath, he knew the chase was underway.
“She’s quick,” he said. “Quick as Satan.”
“Where are you? On the path?”
“Too smart. Went right of it. Getting close to the wetlands. Could be over soon.”
“Don’t kill her without me there. Shoot her in the leg or something. I want to be there.”
For forty-two, Ted Carpenter was in fine shape, but he sounded as if he was moving so fast that he was running out of breath. “Got it. The other one going to hell?”
Kenneth reached for the Glock in his jacket pocket, checked the magazine, felt his pants pocket for the other two, and moved into the woods. He removed his cap and his sunglasses―no use for them here.
They’d never done two at once. This was an experiment to see if they could do so easily. “No idea. Don’t know if she’ll take the bait.”
“Do you think she saw the photos?”
“I’m sure she did.”
“That could do it.”
“Could isn’t will. But this is an experiment. We’ll see if she takes my advice and ends her life. It’s doubtful―we both went into this knowing that―but it could happen. Shame could undo her. The threat of exposure could lead her to her own death. We’ll see.”
“You need to hurry, Kenneth.”
“Can you see her?”
“Barely. She’s fast. And I fell. But she fell twice.”
“Don’t lose her.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“If you shot her right now, in the calf or something, would it be too soon?”
“I