grew out of the interior. The front door was missing and there was no glass in the windows.
Still, some indigent might have sought shelter there. He quietly shucked a shell into the 12-gauge and eased heavily out of the van, alert.
His eyes adjusted to the gloom inside the cabin. Sound of a rat or squirrel scurrying away. No other signs of life except spiders and millipedes. Woodsy smell with a touch of mildew.
The exposed beams under the part of the roof that was intact were strong enough to support his weight. He went back to the van and brought out the chains and hook and large cooler.
When he returned for the woman, her eyes were open, unblinking. She didnât resist when he handcuffed her wrists together, and then her ankles.
Should he rape her? He had done that to the first two women, and one man, but there was no special joy in it, and it proved nothing; he already had total control over them, so sticking a protuberance into an opening was a trivial exercise. Besides, if he were interrupted and had to leave body parts behind, the fluid they found in her vagina would not be human in chemistry or biology.
He hung her up by the heels and stooped to remove the duct tape. âDonât scream. Thereâs no one around to hear you, and youâll just annoy me.â
She winced when he jerked the tape off, then worked her jaw and said, âThis is the weirdest dream Iâve ever had.â
âItâs not a dream, Cooper.â Heâd looked in her wallet. âItâs not even a nightmare.â
âI refuse to believe that. Youâll kill me, and then Iâll wake up.â
He almost smiled. âThatâs a new way of coping. None of the others have said that.â He unrolled her Lycra shorts and left them bunched around her knees. âMost girls your age shave around the pubic region. The bathing suit part, at least.â
âIâm sure youâre an expert.â Her voice was conversational but quaking. âYou can say âcunt.â Under the circumstances.â
âHeavens, no. I donât know you well enough.â He sliced her T-shirt from neck to waist and then cut both sleeves to remove it. She was wearing a red sports bra. He snapped the elastic but left it alone.
âHow many . . . how many others?â
âTwelve; youâll be lucky thirteen. The newspapers call me Hunter. You havenât heard of me?â
âIâI never read the paper. Or watch the news.â
âOh. Is it too depressing?â He made small nicks over each kneecap and watched the blood trickle down. âIf you read the newspapers, you might have thought twice before bicycling alone out in the woods.â
âMy boyfriend and parents know whereââ
âIâm sure they do. Weâll be in another state before they get around to calling the police. Youâll be in quite another state.â He wiped one stream of blood with his forefinger and tasted it. âType O, I believe?â
âLook. If this is a gagââ
âThere may be gagging.â He stuck out his tongue and licked the trickle of blood from the other leg in one slow sweep. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. âYou are delicious.â
He went outside and came back with a large plastic bucket with a lid. He pried off the lid and put the bucket on the floor underneath her head. Then he sat down cross-legged, facing her eye to eye.
âCarolyn Cooper. You must bike a lot.â
âNo. Yes.â Tears were running down her forehead.
âYour thighs and calves are very muscular. But not
too
lean. Do you go to school?â
She shook her head no.
âChurch? Do you go to church?â
âYou . . . United Southern Baptist.â
âSouthern Baptist. So youâll be in heaven soon.â
She cried harder and tried to wipe her nose on her shoulder. He held up a Kleenex and said, âBlow.â She