Page 27 of No Escape

The disguise wasn’t perfect, but it would do the job.

John made his way to the front of the store, feeling the adrenaline course through his veins. He was like a ghost, slipping through the world unnoticed, his intentions unknown to those around him. He caught sight of his reflection in a mirror, and for a moment, he almost didn’t recognize himself.

Good, then they won’t either, he thought.

He kept his composure as he walked past the oblivious employees and customers, his eyes locked on the exit. He knew that every second counted, and he couldn’t afford to be caught stealing. That might alert the authorities to where he was, and that damned Valerie, or anotheroverpaid moron, might figure out where he was going.

He walked by a security guard who barely looked up at him. The world was full of people not willing to do what was necessary. John knew that, if only the man had bothered to look at him and see that he was wearing store clothes, he might have been caught out.

But no, the world was full of people who didn’t care.

John walked by him and then pushed through the doors and stepped out into the busy street, the crisp air meeting him like an old friend.

The cold air hitting his face felt like a splash of water, invigorating him as he moved along the busy street. Now that he had changed clothes, he felt a little more anonymous. One step closer to being the true instrument of justice he knew he was meant to be.

John passed by a lane and then crossed a busy street. Then he headed down a quieter road. There, he smelled the fresh coffee of a cafe, the seats outside empty. He couldn’t help but notice a newspaper left on one of the white tables.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he picked it up to scan the headlines.

His eyes immediately locked on the front-page story. It featured a picture of his own mug shot when he was arrested, but the insert showed two smaller pictures of Valerie Law and her sister. The headline suggested she might be an accomplice to the string of murders and that the FBI was investigating.

John couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. The one person who had managed to put him away was now being suspected of helping him.

He shook his head in amusement and set the paper back down on the table. It was perfect, really. With the authorities chasing after Valerie and Suzie at the same time, he could continue his deadly mission with less chance of interference from the one person who had ever managed to stop him.

A renewed sense of determination washed over him as he walked away from the cafe, already planning his next target. John knew that, with Valerie Law well out of the picture, he was free to tie up any remaining loose ends and continue to exact his twisted brand of vengeance on those he deemed most deserving of it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Valerie guided the old truck through the cozy, sun-kissed streets, the warm glow of the afternoon casting a golden hue over everything it touched.

But she did not feel sunshine seeping into her thoughts, only gloom resting there, waiting to infect all around it.

The journey had been mostly quiet, with the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the radio. She stole a glance at Suzie, who seemed lost in thought, her expression hesitant and distant.

“Suzie, what’s wrong?” Valerie asked, concern coloring her voice. “You’ve been quiet for a while now.”

Suzie sighed, looking out the window at the passing houses. “I’ve been thinking about Mom,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. “If she really killed Dad, does that mean… does that mean there’s evil in our blood? Is that why I got sick in the head, and you too?”

Valerie frowned, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. She had asked herself the same question countless times since discovering the truth about their parents.

“No, Suzie, it doesn’t,” she replied, her voice firm. “Our choices define who we are, not our blood. We can choose to be better than the mistakes our parents made. Mental illness is common. It doesn’t make a person evil. It’s stigmatized, but a person with a mental illness is no more or less likely to be evil than anyone.”

“Are you sure of that?” Suzie asked. “Mom hurt us…”

“And I struggle with that every day,” Valerie said. “But I’m done with it. I let all the pain torture me until I ended up breaking down. No more, Suzie. No more. I choose to believe Mom is the rare exception where someone’s delusions are so pronounced that they make them do things they wouldn’t normally do. It’s not her fault.”

“To us or our dad?” Suzie asked.

Valerie had thought about that, too. But she hadn’t quite gotten her head around it yet.

“I wasn’t there when Dad died,” she finally said. “But I can say she was too far gone when we were kids to be blamed for what she did to us… She thought she was helping us in her own, fractured way. Maybe that was the same with Dad. I don’t know.”

Valerie had a flash in her mind. A memory of her mother wielding a knife and talking about cutting the evil out of them, with tears streaming down her face. Valerie shook the thought away.

“We can’t let ourselves be tarred by our parents’ actions,” Valerie said softly.

Suzie nodded slowly, but it was clear that she was still troubled by the idea. Valerie wished she could do more to reassure her sister, but she knew that only time and action could truly help them both overcome the weight of their family’s past.

---