You Only Die Twice

Chapter TWENTY-TWO





When Kenneth Berkowitz finally found Ted Carpenter, the sun was still up, but it was beginning its slow slide into night.

Before Berkowitz appeared, Ted heard him crashing through the woods and he had to wonder if he was dealing with an idiot. Kenneth himself said earlier that when he started to hear his footfalls, Ted was to call out softly to him. And yet he was making this sort of racket? It was unbelievable to him. He knew better than to behave like this. He knew that making such a loud, aggressive-sounding noise would carry in the woods and potentially tip off Cheryl Dunning to their current location.

So, he’s still pissed, Ted thought. Fine.

With his Glock held at his side, he waited for his partner to show himself, not knowing what to expect, but prepared to act nevertheless should Berkowitz try something stupid.

Ahead of him, he watched trees bend right and left. Leaves shook free and fell in an explosion of color. There was a flash of orange, and then it disappeared. He heard what sounded like someone panting. Carpenter took a step back and furrowed his brow.

Something wasn’t right.

He was about to conceal himself behind a tree when, ten feet away, an elderly man burst through the thick of trees and stopped, stunned, when he faced Carpenter.

He had a rifle in his hand. Blood was spattered across his face. The man was somewhere in his seventies and he looked terrified. In his orange vest and cap, he obviously was here to hunt, but the noise of someone else running close behind him suggested that it was he who was being hunted.

“Help me,” he said. “Please. There’s a man with a gun. A young man. Behind me. Shoot him. My rifle’s locked up. He’s crazy.”

On unsteady legs, the man turned to his right and began to run again. Or try to run. It was a pathetic sight, but Ted Carpenter watched it all play out with fascination. When Berkowitz shot out of the woods and into the clearing with his burly body and enraged face, he looked at Ted, who pointed to his left. Kenneth nodded and aimed his gun at the man, who was limping in his effort to get away. Berkowitz’s gun had a silencer, a scope and it was fitted with a laser for accuracy. He allowed the man a few additional steps of life before he took aim and shot him in the back of the head.

The man went down hard.

Berkowitz walked over to him, pushed him over with his foot, and peered down at his ruined face. Ted joined him, saw the man’s dilated eyes and how the hollow-point bullet had burst through his forehead.

“So, we’ve got hunters onsite?” Ted asked.

“Obviously.”

“Did you see any others?”

“I didn’t.”

“That was quite a commotion you made, but I suppose what matters is that you got him―so long as Cheryl didn’t hear it, which is possible. Let me see your gun.”

“Why?”

“Because yours has a silencer. Mine doesn’t.”

“What do you need it for?”

“Earlier, I was thinking of a quote from Deuteronomy 23:1: ‘No man whose testicles have been crushed or whose organ has been cut off may become a member of the Assembly of God.’”

“Why were you thinking of that?”

“I’m always thinking of scripture. Aren’t you? Hand me your gun. Or I’ll just use my knife. It really doesn’t matter to me. I’m going to make certain this pig sees no part of God.”

“Then use your knife,” Kenneth said. “We need to preserve our ammunition.”

“It that the real reason?”

Before Berkowitz could answer, Ted Carpenter already was on his knees, pulling down the man’s pants, removing his knife from his belt and doing what he had to do to keep this man from becoming a member of the Assembly of God.