Chapter Nineteen

He started up the plane and hoped his virtual plane lessons and manuals would translate to reality. Shaky start as the small plane jutted off the ground. "Are you cold? I'll turn the heater on." She was so tense.
"Are you up to something?"
She shook her head. "Please let them go."
"I will…"
"But you've got no motivation to."
"I don't have any particular motivation to kill them, either. Although I can't say I've ever been a huge baseball fan, so I guess I have no affinity for them."
"Just let them go."
"Easy, doll. We're only just getting started."

They flew for miles, hours, over land and then over ocean.
"Good flight? What do you think, have I got a future career in flying?" You don't have a future.
"Maybe."
"Stop being so cold," he taunted, "I was really looking forward to our little reunion."
"Where's the remote?"
"So anxious. Where's the foreplay, B? You make a guy feel cheap."
"I mean it, Daniel. I've fucking had it up to here."
He laughed. "Yes, you get to order me around."
"Actually," she replied steadily, "I do."
"What do you mean?" he asked her.
"This plane is slowly filling with an odourless toxic gas that if ignited will kill both of us."
He turned to her. "Are you insane?"
"Well, who would I have to thank for that…"
"You wouldn't do it." He wanted to go over and search her for a lighter, but he couldn't stop flying the plane.
"The only thing that appeals to a criminal," she said factually, "is his concern for his own life." She stood up, and got a lighter out of her pocket. He tried to think but for once, he wasn't calm, and he didn't like the look in Bianca's eyes.
"Easy, doll, we can stop this thing, we just have to get…"
"No, this all stops here." He wasn't going to let her get control, even if it killed him. A second shot of adrenalin killed off his fear and he continued to steer the plane, all the while talking to her, "What makes you think I won't let them go soon anyway?"
"Because you're just the sort of vindictive sociopath who would kill them just because you could."
"You underestimate me, doll."
"Oh, and in case I didn't mention, I want you to let me go."
"No."
"Then you'll die."
"So will you."
"A necessary sacrifice." She was scaring him again.

"There's no gas," he snorted, "none at all." She played with the lighter. "Stop it!" He was sweating now. Surely she wouldn't kill them both… "You think I don't know… What you're planning to do me?" Her face was ugly with pain and anger. "You want to kill me… Or worse. And I won't let you hurt anyone else. I don't care if we both die."
"So I'll press the trigger before I die. Oh and… I should probably have told you this before but if my men don't receive confirmation to let the remaining citizens loose, they'll kill them."
"Bullshit."
"You'd think you'd realize I'd be prepared for something like this. A hostile police take over. Although I didn't expect it from you, doll…" She had thought up till now, if she could just get him to give up the remote safely, without pressing a button accidentally or on purpose.

She had to assess whether he was lying about the command. It didn't seem logical, for his men to act without command. "You're lying."
"You sure? I mean, are you twenty five thousand lives sure? Think about it, at least for a second, B."
She spun around in the plane, hands on her head. He was right? How sure was she? How long had it been since she'd slept? Two days, three? Forever? Even her own voice seemed to belong to someone else that was harder around the edges. Was Daniel lying?
"Liar," she screamed. She held the lighter up to his face.
"Let them go now, or I'll fucking kill us."
He tried to steer, hands tense. "Put that down, you little bitch."
"No."
"The remote is in my pocket."

She reached in to get it, slowly. She found it, a simple little contraption with soft button nodes all too easily pressed down. She got it out, and the breath escaped from her lungs. She'd been holding it there, letting it crush her.
"Now, doll, can we please focus…" Was it all over? She needed to throw the remote into the ocean.

Daniel had found somewhere to land. What appeared to be a small island. He touched the plane down, they had a rough landing in the sand. He looked at her, venomous glare holding her in place as he opened his own door. She was certain then of what he was going to do to her. She opened her own door and ran as hard as she could, a blurring streak of black clothing through the sand. She didn't see or hear Daniel, but she could sense he was close by. It didn't matter too much. She still had the remote.

He was pissed off that she got away so fast, athletic little thing that she was… Pretty soon he would find her, corner her, and end this thing. And if he wanted to, after wards, he'd kill twenty five thousand people just for fun. His anger flared, his craving to hurt was unbearable…She had taken his control, made this her game, and that simply wasn't acceptable. Maybe he'd had a soft spot for her, maybe just a few days ago… But now Bianca had to die.

She scrambled up a sand dune, looking for somewhere to hide Daniel's valuable commodity. She knew he'd kill them now, he was too angry to stop. Ironic, that she had almost forced his hand by trying to prevent him from hitting the trigger. She wasn't sure before, but now she knew… And she liked it better that way. Now that he was once again an unreasonable, homicidal psychopath, it was easier to get over the assumption that Daniel was a person.

A human, with flesh and blood and a beating heart, a DNA string, sure… But a compassionate living person, no he wasn't that. He'd long ago mutated into something that fed off pain and craved destruction, the urge to recruit thousands of fellow miserables, dead or alive, to provide a back drop to Daniel's tragic story, to worship him.

She buried the remote and set off to find a good standing spot. There, she would wait, until Daniel decided to show up. As Detective Mahoney and her discussed, she would have to kill him. Before he could harm those people, or maybe even after… She felt the cold metal of the gun in her pocket. She was no longer helpless. She felt prepared. She felt she had the jump on Daniel. But she was not a natural predator, and he was… Perhaps it was better that she not forget that.

Daniel stalked the island, long knife in his hand, looking for her. Smelling for her. There were a few palm trees but mostly it was open, wasted sand, dunes and a few short stocky plants that didn't require much fresh water. He had to stop wasting energy looking for her, he wanted to do this already. He closed his eyes and thought about where she might feel safe, then he headed back towards a bunch of dunes that offered a little cover. He considered the possibility that she might be armed, but he could work around that. He spotted her, a black smudge, her back against the large sand dune. She was waiting. She glanced around fervently for him. He moved behind a tree. She had the gun in her hand, an ammature move for sure.

He couldn't allow himself to think about what she might be feeling. He just had to do this. She was a risk, a big fat risk that had seen him kill two people and she wasn't getting away. Plus, she was really getting on his nerves at this point…. He took the back way and stayed under cover for as long as possible. He figured the gun she'd have would be a police revolver with six rounds in the magazine, and if he could get her to panic, she'd empty the clip and have no idea how to even aim the thing properly. Most people don't know how to use a weapon. He waited, against the cover of his own sand dune, for her to relax. For her energy to lull. Now, it was dark, and he felt at home, in his hunting ground, just hunting another insignificant piece of prey.

He ran along the beach. She had moved. Smarter than he thought. She knew he'd have her location spatially memorized. He was already feeling trees, keeping track of dunes, memorizing the rather small island. She put her finger on the trigger, tried as hard as she could to see Daniel creeping about in the night. She felt him sweep past her. She froze, entire body rock tense. He did it again. She pointed the gun and fired a shot, where she thought he was. He'd probably have a weapon, which meant he could cut her throat on one of his runs past her. He brushed her neck with his finger tips. "Hey, doll."
Her stomach lurched with fear. "Not gonna use that thing, are you?"
"Yes." She pointed the gun straight out, but he had stepped back into the dark again.
"You're going to die, Bianca. No excuses, no reprieves…"
"I'm holding the gun, asshole." He sliced her arm. She fought the urge to clutch at it. "I'm not going to… just shoot at you!" she screamed. He was enjoying himself now.
"Oh good, don't make it easy on me."
She felt his hand touch her waist. She fired another shot off, despite herself. "Fuck."
"Come on, doll, you can't get me…. You don't even know how to use that thing." She concentrated on utelising her night vision, and found she could see a very faint outline of him. She aimed the gun but he kept moving. She didn't have more than 4 rounds left. She shot and he fell. She wanted to collapse with relief. She went over to him. She bent down, slowly. He groaned. She went to touch him.

He grabbed her and she screamed. He threw her down and grabbed her wrist. She shot the gun but the bullets were wasted decorating the air around them. He punched her hard in the head and she felt dizzy but she had to fight for her life now. "Fucking bitch, you made me…" She kicked out, punched, but he hit her again and grabbed both her wrists, forced them together in a single hand. "Stop. You're just humiliating yourself, really…" She bit into his arm and he let go. She kicked up and fell off her. She staggered a few metres before he grabbed her around the waist, span her and threw her back onto the sand. She got up again but he was already there, hitting her on the back of the head. She fell forward and he climbed on top of her. He grabbed her throat in one hand and put the knife to the clear space left. "I'm going to fucking cut you open."
"I thought we were friends, Dan," she said through her fear constricting throat.
"Did you…" His knees were in her shoulder blades. She had absolutely nothing. How had she gone from having the gun… to this? "Well done, really." She congratulated him.
She was still shaking, the sharp thought of death that could cut her out of this world any minute paralysed her. "You know… It's so tempting." He kissed her neck. "To have a little fun with you, before I kill you."
He took his knees off her and brought her shaking body back into his arms. "Easy, doll." He held her tightly.
She jerked. "It's alright." He stroked her cheek. "Just stop fighting… You might even enjoy it."
She relaxed, made herself relax. He kissed her neck and slid his hand up her top. He pulled her bottom back on to his hard crotch. She felt so much disgust and hate, it was almost enough to drown out the fear. This asshole had taken so much from her. She wondered where the gun was.

"I remember the night your father died," she said.
"What?"
She started to recount the tale, just hoping it would do something. Kill off Daniel's hard on, at least. "I was three. You were nine and… three quarters. We'd been living in that house for months. You used to make me hot chocolate with those little tiny marshmallows…" She could feel his hold shift, involuntarily, from restraint to protective. Her voice shook, "I was... upstairs. In my room. There were noises downstairs, I had no idea what they where but I was afraid. You came and got me, snatched me up and told me it was very, very important that I be quiet, Ok? I was crying but you grabbed my favourite toy, Buster, the pink bunny, and waved it around for me. I stopped crying long enough for you to run down the hall way and put me in the food elevator. Be quiet, little one, you said… Please be quiet." And then the voices came upstairs, the men with their guns. They brought your father with them. They kicked him around and when you tried to stop them, they held you down and made you watch… They shot him in the stomach, then once in the head. You thought I couldn't see, but I was watching from the elevator. I watched them beat you so bad that you couldn't even get up. Then I was crying, and you were crying, and then my dad got home…"
"Please," he asked her, "don't stay stuff like that."
"Why? Because it makes you feel something?" Where was the gun? She couldn't die like this. It was too pathetic.
"Yes, because it makes me feel something… I hate feeling. Because feeling is pain." He was getting angry again.

He got up and she was free. She started to creep slowly away. She felt around for the gun. "I've got it," he told her. "I've got the gun, doll." "You know, this is probably a bad time to tell you, but I think I sort of love you…"
"I know."
He was surprised by her answer.
"So… what happens now?"
"I don't know…" he replied.

So she waited, for the serial killer who had destroyed her life to decide her fate, and his own. "Do the right thing, Daniel." Her voice was quiet, yet powerful. "For once in your miserable life do the right thing."
He walked towards her. He grabbed her shoulders. "What makes you think I'm capable of doing that?" She couldn't think of an answer. He leaned in and kissed her. "Can you promise me something?"
"Yes?"
"When the news crew comes… don't refer to me as the 48 killer. Call me the Stadium Massacre Murderer. Has a ring to it, doesn't it? And when I go to France, you'll be seeing more of my work. For old time's sake…"
He slipped his arms around her body and held it to his own. "One day, I am going to come back for you, Bianca Rice." He stabbed her neck with the sedative and felt her float down into his arms.

He dropped her and walked away. He phoned Detective Mahoney to come and collect her. He didn't know why he couldn't kill her in the end. Was it because he loved her? No, that wouldn't have stopped him. It was something in the way she spoke of how he used to be… before it all. A better past. A bright new future. He knew he would go onto glorious things, and that in other countries, he would carve out new methods and names and he would be truly, truly great. The most violent sociopath ever to have stalked multiple continents, with the death toll already in the thousands… He'd make the whole world fear him. And when his mission was complete, when the violence could cease, at least for a little while, he'd return for her.

…because they were not over yet.

Ok so tell me what you think. I may re-write this eventually as I had other ideas. I thought about Dan committing suicide but it seemed out of character.