Chapter Seventeen
The story detailing a 'rampage' of West Coast murders dominated the front page of the San Francisco Examiner. All hell had broken loose. Literally.
William and Michael watched it unfold on TV that night. They were impressed with themselves, though they had expected the news story to break soon. They were counting on it in fact. That was the plan.
They were the special ones. The chosen team to get the job done. Now they were on their mission. On the road again.
They were chowing down at a diner in Woodland Hills, north of LA, off Highway 5. People in the restaurant noticed the two of them. How could they not? Both were over six feet two, blond ponytails, strapping, well-muscled bodies, dressed completely in black. William and Michael were the archetypes of modem boyhood: wild animal meets entitled prince.
The news was playing out on W. The murders were the lead story of course, and the sensationalized coverage lasted for several minutes. Frightened people in Los Angeles, LasVegas, San Francisco and San Diego were interviewed on camera and had the most incredibly insipid things to say.
Michael frowned and looked over at his brother. "They got it all wrong. Mostly wrong anyway. What idiots, what f*cking drones.'
William took a bite of his dreary sandwich, then he stared up at the TV again. 'Newspapers and TV always get it wrong, little brother. They're part of the larger problem, of what has to be fixed. Like those two lawyers in Mill Valley. You finished here?'
Michael wolfed down the remainder of his extra-rare cheeseburger in a voracious bite. 'I am, and I'm also hungry. I need to feed.' His beautiful blue eyes were glazed.
William smiled and kissed his brother on the cheek.'C'mon then. I have a good plan for tonight.'
Michael held back. 'Shouldn't we be a little careful? The police are out looking for us, right? We're a big deal now.'
William continued to smile. He loved his brother's naivete. It amused him. 'We are an incredibly big deal. We're the next big thing. C'mon, little brother. We both need to feed. We deserve it. And besides, the police don't know who we are, always remember this, the police are incompetent fools.'
William drove their white van back down the road they had traveled on through Woodland Hills, before they stopped at the diner. He was sorry they hadn't brought the cat, but this trip was too long. He pulled into an obnoxiously lit shopping mall and studied the signs: Wal-Mart, Denny's, Staples, Circuit City, Wells Fargo Bank. He despised every one of them as well as the people who shopped there.
'We're not looking for prey here?' Michael asked. His bright blue eyes darted around the mall and he looked concerned.
William shook his head. The blond ponytail wagged.'No, of course not. These people aren't worthy of us, Michael. Well, maybe that blonde girl in the tight blue jeans over there is marginally worthy.'
Michael cocked his head sideways, then licked his lips. 'She'll do. For an appetizer.'
William hopped out of the van and walked to the far end of the parking lot. He was strutting a little, smiling, his head held high. Michael followed. The brothers crossed through the back yard of the Wells Fargo Bank. Then the full parking lot of the Denn/s restaurant that William thought smelled of bacon grease and fat people.
Michael began to smile when he saw what his brother was up to. They had done this kind of thing before.
A somber black-and-white sign loomed straight ahead of them. It was backlit. Sorel Funeral Home.