Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click hereErica thumbed back the hammer on the gun, raising it to point at Butterman's face. The voltage that Denisa had pumped into him had robbed him of his ability to speak, his body still jerking like a mad marionette.
"Who's the bitch now?" Erica's voice was cold as she pressed back on the trigger until the big gun bucked in her hand.
Epilogue: "The end of a melody is not its goal; but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either. - Nietzsche"
Almost a month had passed since the nightmarish firefight in the tunnels beneath the factory. Arlene, Sondra and Erica were gathered together on the front lawn of Sondra's home, the black woman now visibly showing signs of her pregnancy, Erica's own pregnancy confirmed but still too early to be showing. Lounging on the hood of Arlene's car, Denisa was as usual transfixed by the social media on her phone.
The butcher's bill for their comrades had been blessedly light. Eight killers, nine including Butterman, were dead. They had left the bodies where they lay beneath the factory, only pausing to clear away any evidence that might connect them to the deaths.
Duncan had taken a bullet wound to his right shoulder, a pretty black woman, no more than nineteen years old, had taken him by surprise. She had stepped around a corner into his line of sight. Immediately she had given Duncan a huge friendly smile and for a moment he had assumed she was a hostage instead of a predator. That hesitation had almost been his undoing as from behind her back she had produced a small but lethal revolver, aiming and firing at him in the same smooth unhurried movement. He had felt the first bullet take him high on the shoulder before he'd recovered the presence of mind to dive away.
The screams that Erica had heard had been from Sondra's bullets hitting the teenaged killer in the stomach, a final bullet from Griffin putting her out of her misery. Duncan had alternated from shame at being distracted by how his opponent had looked to delight at the attention he had received from Sondra and Erica over his wound.
The only other casualty had been Lincoln. One man had made it clear of the safehouse, crawling on his belly until he believed it safe to walk. He had gotten to his feet a yard from Lincoln's position, both men shocked to see the other. The killer had been a hair faster, leaping at Lincoln, stunning him with clubbing, brutal blows. At three hundred yards distance, Trent had taken him out with a head shot before the killer could do more than bloody his friend's nose.
Victor had taken on responsibility for the tip off to the FBI, referencing 'anonymous sources' that led himself and Special Agent Murphy to the safehouse location. From what Victor had passed on so far to Erica, the group they had killed had already been connected to over seventy different homicides via DNA and fingerprints. Which such a result under thier belts, nobody at the Bureau were pressing Victor or Special Agent Murphy as to their 'sources'. Upper management were happy with the win and the positive publicity associated with it.
The women and their friends had opted to split apart for a few weeks, they didnt expect any blowback from the shadowy league of killers, no doubt the loss of so many members and their go to fixer, Adin Hodzik, would leave them on the back foot for sometime to come. Still it didnt hurt to be cautious.
<<0>>
"What now eh?" Arlene asked Sondra.
"Well Erica is living here full time now," Sondra replied, "Seemed best for both of us." Erica nodded and smiled.
"And after," Sondra gestured at her stomach, "Well Trent and I are thinking of opening a shooting instruction business together. Time I kicked the vigilante gig I think."
"Wait... you... and Trent?" Arlene asked, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead in surprise. She hadn't seen this coming.
"Hey...my Boo is gone and Trent... he's a good man, he's caring. He'll make a good father. Besides, the boy can shoot and he got himself a fine cock." Sondra laughed as hard as the others as she gestured with both hands exactly how 'fine' Trent's cock was.
"And you Erica? You quitting as well?" Arlene asked, her voice and eyes understanding, no matter the answer.
"For now, yes. Until the baby is born, I will be playing it safe. Afterwards... I want my child's future to be secure and that means taking this organisation down."
"Still can't believe you got yourself pregnant," Sondra said, "Talk about robbing a sister's thunder. And with a pig farmer!"
"Heh, heh... pig fucker," Denisa chuckled, her eyes fixed on the phone's screen.
"Farmer, Pig FARMER!" Erica retorted. Denisa waved a hand in a sea-saw rocking motion, grinning as she did so.
"Sondra, would you mind?" Erica asked.
"My pleasure," Sondra replied, walking towards Denisa.
"What about you Arlene? I heard you quit the Sheriff's department last week from JP. I called but you didn't answer," Erica said to her best friend.
"It didn't feel right, not after everything we did. I felt wrong wearing the badge, the uniform. I am still committed to finishing our work, but I won't tarnish my department with my actions if we do get caught. I owe the Sherrif and the others that much."
"So, what now, and why her?" Erica said, pointing at Denisa who had just gotten a slap on the back of the head from Sondra. The mixed cries of 'mind my phone' from Denisa and 'grow up Zoomer' from Sondra filled the quiet street.
"Her father offered me a job, free rein to do my... our thing... alongside the regular work. Only condition is I help train that one up as an investigator. He wants you as well, on the payroll as an investigator. Same deal. Teach Denisa. I guess he hopes we can ground her a bit, bring her on so she can take over the business someday."
"It's tempting," Erica admitted. "A regular pay check would help with everything that's coming. Tell him I'll think about it."
Arlene kissed Erica on the forehead and then walked over to rescue Denisa from Sondra who seemed like she wanted to hurl Denisa's ever present phone halfway down the block.
"Don't take too long thinking it over. We've work to do," Arlene said to Erica as she stepped onto the street.
Authors note:
This brings Tracking Evil, a Podcast to an end.
Erica, Arlene, Sondra and Denisa will return in Tracking Evil, The Web.
- COMMENTS
Have you considered turning your amazing work into a novel? It would do well on Smashwords or Amazon!
Appreciate the response! I was running under the faulty remembrance that Butterman HAD killed both the men and women in those interracial couples before. That makes a lot more sense.
Sorry Agumi, I meant to also say that the message 'BILLII' that the killer left at the site of all of his murders was inspired obviously by Randall and, in my head, the message would have lost meaning to the killer if Randall himself was dead as well.
, Thanks for sticking with the entire series, happy to hear it was a break from the norm for you.
Regarding your question on why Randall and Saul were never victims of The Graffiti Killer. Butterman’s victims were, generally, people involved in an interracial relationship. He would kill either the man or the woman, black or white, but never both of them. Part of his 'pleasure' was derived from the pain, grief or problems faced by the survivor. So in the case of Randall, Butterman had killed his own wife, leaving Randall with the notoriety of being the catalyst, something that Butterman would have viewed as punishment enough. Saul was never directly involved with Butterman’s wife, she was interested but he wasn't. Amos was killed because of his closeness to Erica and his attempt at capturing Butterman, the killer getting great satisfaction from Erica’s grief.
Hope that settles the question for you.
All the best,
FTW