William Malmborg
JIMMY
Chapter One
Sometime during the night the violent storms were broken and replaced by a calm, gentle rain. Later people would say the rain had been there to cleanse the town, and had, in fact, washed away the terror and madness of the previous week. For many, however, this was not the case. For them the terror and madness would remain forever, and no rain, no matter how powerful, could wash anything away.
It began on a clear cool Monday in May of 2010. Samantha King, an eighteen-year-old senior, was walking home from school. It was a pleasant walk, one that usually didn’t take more than fifteen to twenty minutes. Today was looking like twenty because her backpack was full, the teachers having loaded her down with homework despite the fact that there were only two weeks left before graduation. It was insane.
Graduation. The word sent a chill down her spine as she walked along the wooded road. It seemed like just yesterday she had been in third grade drawing pictures of Santa and his reindeer for the class Christmas book. Amazing how quickly time went.
Graduation in June, and then in August she would be heading to Northern Illinois University in DeKalb. Then, after four years of that, she would finally be able to live on her own, supporting herself with a career she loved, and possibly raising a family with a man who cared for her deeply.
The thought of graduation wasn’t the most exciting event floating around her mind though. That spot was reserved for the upcoming Saturday night, which would be spent in the school gymnasium. Prom. Not only would the dance be enjoyable, but it also was the night she planned to lose her virginity. At the moment, Steven, her boyfriend, was not in on this plan, but she doubted he would have any objections. The two had been going out the entire year, and it was time they did more than just kiss and lightly touch each other. The question was how would she present herself to him so he would make a move on her? Or would she make the move on him? No. The guy needed to make it or else it wouldn’t be right. But what would she do?
In her mind she always pictured the two of them in a motel room sitting on a bed. She would have loosened her dress a little and let it hang down from her breasts. He would then put his hands and lips on her. The lovemaking would progress from there.
A car sped by along the road and pulled her from the thoughts of that future night, which was probably for the best since a warm tingle had begun building between her legs.
Now, rather than thinking about that night, she looked ahead and saw the rotting mailbox for the old Hood place jutting up from the roadside weeds. A shiver went down her spine.
The Hoods had been a strange family that thought World War Three was imminent. For years they had been preparing themselves while trying to recruit town and county members into their small militia. September 11, 2001 had been the start of the war according to them, but rather than stay and fight, they had retreated to a more secure location somewhere in the Rockies. No one had seen them since. Their house had remained, and because no FOR SALE sign ever went up, everyone assumed they still owned it. Even if a FOR SALE sign ever did go up it was doubtful anyone would buy the place. Nine years of abandonment had ruined the structure, and one would have to invest more than the property was ever worth just to make it livable.
Samantha slowly walked up to the driveway and turned her head. Long grass and overgrown bushes between the house and the road made it nearly impossible to see the first floor. On the second floor she noticed a new broken window.
Something moved in the bushes to her right.
Samantha’s heart jumped as she spun around, her eyes expecting to see a cat or some other small creature from the woods.
Nothing.
A kid perhaps? Someone who had been throwing stones at the house and then hid when she came walking around? Perhaps he was even responsible for the broken window?
“Hello?” she called.
Nothing.
Samantha decided not to stay and find out who was lurking in the shrubbery. The house was creepy enough without the added threat of someone jumping out at her; so creepy in fact that going inside and taking something on Halloween night had been a childhood rite of passage for many years, one the sheriff had finally been forced to put a stop to after a kid cut himself badly when climbing through a broken window.
She turned away from the house and started walking toward home again.
Something crashed through the brush. Samantha twisted back around and screamed as a figure lunged for her, a hand grabbing her around the throat.
“No!” she cried while pushing against him, her overfilled backpack forcing him to let go. A second later his hands were on her again, and flung her around to the right. This time her backpack worked against her, its weight knocking her body off balance and causing her to fall to the ground.
The attacker came at her with a long, gleaming knife.
“Ahhh,” she started, but then he put the knife to her throat. The blade was cold and indented her skin with its razor edge.
Warm liquid suddenly gushed between her legs.
“Get up.”
Samantha recognized the voice and for the first time focused her eyes upon her attacker. It was Jimmy Hawthorn.
Okay, this is it, stay calm and focused, Jimmy Hawthorn said to himself while carefully pressing the knife into Samantha King’s throat, a knife he had hidden by the back door of the Hood place this morning so he didn’t have to carry it around with him all day at school. Don’t lose control, and for God’s sake don’t cut her!
Slitting her throat was his biggest fear right now; followed closely by some unforeseen Good Samaritan coming to her rescue. Unless it is another girl, then maybe I can get them both. It was a pleasant fantasy, but one he quickly subdued to focus on the present situation.
“Get up.”
Samantha didn’t move.
For a moment he worried that she was defying him, and that he would be forced to drag her into the fallout shelter while she fought him, but then he realized her body was simply paralyzed with fear.
You’d be scared too if someone like me came at you with a knife all the sudden.
At the same time he knew he had to get her into the fallout shelter, and that with each passing second the risk that someone would come by grew, so, without too much thought he moved the knife from her throat to her groin and pressed the blade up against the seam of her jeans and said, “Get up or I’ll slice open your pussy!”
The bluff worked.
“Stop! Jimmy no! Ahhh! Please stop!”
Jimmy ignored her cries and pulled on the rope until her toes barely touched the concrete floor, and then tied it off to a pipe that jutted from the wall. Once that was done he walked into the middle of the small room and stared at her, his eyes seeming to examine every inch of her stretched figure.
Samantha stared back for a moment, and then looked up at her wrists as she tried shifting them within the knots into a more comfortable position. Meanwhile her toes began to ache so she tried resting them, but this increased the strain on her wrists and within a minute she was forced to lift her heels back up.
Jimmy continued to stare at her.
“Jimmy…” Samantha started. She wanted to say more but was forced to take a deep breath first, her body having not noticed how much pressure this position had been putting on her lungs. “Please let me down.”
Jimmy ignored the request.
Samantha closed her eyes.
What is he going to do to me?