Brush Creek Charlie - D. B. Reynolds (best pdf reader for ebooks TXT) 📗

useless garbage, was totally unacceptable in a so-called moral society. Where did the madness end? Did the ends ever justify the means? Who’d be the source to bring this disgusting animal to justice?
Enough was enough. A group of more than forty women filled the front room and dining room of Sandy and Carol’s residence. Refreshments and drinks were set out for the guests. This was their chance to blow off more steam. Women buying guns shot to record sales. The smart ones had sophisticated alarm systems installed. The more clever ones kept their doors locked at every hour of the morning and night. Their children played outside with scrupulous adult supervision. Some even slept at night with their firearms curled in their hands.
A new member decided to join the esteemed women of S.A.V.E. Colleen Stone took the initiative to become an active member of the radical, yet sensible all women’s group. Not because she was a lesbian herself, but she wanted to join for all the right reasons.
Sandy would be the host who introduced their latest member. “Alright, ladies, we’re going to go ahead and get started. Sisters Against Violent Encounters would like to take this opportunity and introduce our newest member. She is a college graduate and is currently working on her master’s degree at UMKC. She comes to us from New York City and resides near the midtown neighborhood of Hyde Park. Ladies, may I present to you, Miss Colleen Stone.”
Colleen arose from her seat while other members received her with gracious applauses. A sea of smiling faces eminated an aura for a sense of belonging.
“Colleen, would you like to say a few words?” Sandy said as to open the floor to her.
Colleen cleared the kinks out of her throat. “Thank you guys for that warm reception. It means so much to be welcomed with open arms by so many nice women. As Sandy already told you, I hail from New York City. I’ve taken up temporary-to-permanent residency here in Kansas City, Missouri while working on my master’s degree in fine arts. It’s a privilege to be inducted as a member of S.A.V.E.”
Light applauses were followed by her brief speech.
The meeting kicked into full gear.
Sandy turned and ejected a coming out smile at Colleen. “Ladies, Colleen has a brief story she’d like to share with you guys.”
Colleen pulled in a short breath. “Walking through Gillham Park with my dog one early morning, I stumbled upon a dead body. My dog behaved strangely as we neared some bushes alongside a dirt trail. At first, I thought it was someone sleeping on the ground. Being from New York, I’m used to seeing people sleeping on the sidewalks and in alleys. The body was nude and I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman because of their strong build.”
Colleen paused momentarily to soothe her dry throat. Sandy handed her a chilled water and she continued. “I explained all of this to the police before telling anyone else. I’d heard about all the recent killings in Gillham Park and Brush Creek, and had been warned about crime in the neighborhood. The strange part about the whole ordeal came when I spotted a guy hiding off in the bushes when my dog and I spotted the nude body. Though he was at a distance, this guy had one of the ugliest faces anyone could’ve ever looked upon, like what you’d call a ‘nightmare-of-a-face’. I explained it to the police and was told he might’ve been the man responsible for the Brush Creek killings. It disturbed me to learn that the woman found in Gillham Park was suffocated after mud and debris was forced down her throat. I’d warn any of you guys to protect yourselves by any means possible.”
Both adjoining rooms responded with amiable applauses. Colleen took a seat and Sandy came back to the podium.
“We’re gracious to Colleen for sharing that story with us,” Sandy spoke honorably. “Joining S.A.V.E. will be one of the smartest things you’ve ever done. We, the members of Sisters Against Violent Encounters, are a contained group, a bond of sisterhood unbreakable by any outside forces. Til death do all of us part, we’re joined in this cause to connect all of womanhood for the betterment of our society. Ladies, it’s an unfortunate tragedy that two more women were found in trashbags floating in the creek waters of Brush Creek. Even more tragic, like the two women found before them, their bodies were mutilated. Their legs and arms were amputated like raw pieces of meat. Senselessly, yet another body has been found in Gillham Park, the victim suffocated with dirt and sticks and rocks. Ladies, we’re here tonight to let our city, to let our state, to let our country know that we’ve had enough. As long as these creeps are on the loose, there’s still a chance more bodies will turn up in Brush Creek and Gillham Park.”
Carol moved in front of Sandy. “Ladies, we’re not dealing with ordinary human beings here. These bastards are absolutely heartless, most certainly void of souls. Sandy and I hosted the prayer vigil for the slain women of Gillham Park. Sandy possibly spotted the man who’s responsible for the Brush Creek killings. Yes, she spotted that ‘nightmare-of-a-face’ that the two police officers came upon the night he attacked them and killed their police canine, even possibly the same sicko who Colleen spotted. In fact, Sandy believes she spotted him Thanksgiving night during the Plaza Lighting Ceremony.”
Loretta Fredericks, the true outspoken soul sister of S.A.V.E., shot her arm into the air. “Then, why didn’t you go to the police so they can take this psychotic sonofabitch off the streets? Women’s lives are depending on you, Sandy, and that’s the bottom line.”
“You’re absolutely correct, Loretta,” Sandy admitted, her voice quenched with regret. “At first, I was confused about the whole situation. Because of my procrastination, other women have turned up dead. Please don’t make me out to be a villan or nothing, but if I could lead the police straight to this motherfucker, I’d surely do so. The night I was almost attacked and raped down in Brush Creek, the same night my dog Bolo was killed by this psychopath, I should’ve marched right into police headquarters and told them what happened. But no, I just had to let this shitbag make a clean getaway. If anyone wants to use me as a dartboard, then go right ahead. But now, I believe I know who this guy is and where he lives and works. I’m on a mission. I’m stupidly determined to help the police catch him.”
Sandy received a few disappointed stares from the audience.
She felt every reason to beat upon herself.
“Don’t beat up on yourself, Sandy,” Carol interjected to her prized lesbian lover. “We’ll make a concerted effort to work with the police to bring this butthole to justice. We’ll be there to watch prison officers deliver his ass straight to the execution room.”
“Lethal injection would be too good for him. It’s too quick of a death, like putting somebody to sleep right away.”
Shannon Murphy thrusted her arm in the air. “Criminal Justice, I studied it while in college. The Brush Creek and Gillham Park killers are changing their mode of operations. They change their patterns to keep from tipping off the cops.”
Cynthia Garrington grunted from the midst of the crowd. “The women found killed in Brush Creek and Gillham Park, they came from different backgrounds, but neither of them had boyfriends or husbands and were pretty much on their own.”
Sheena Sawyer hissed from the back of the room. “The killers of these women, I’ll bet they’re obsessed with overpowering them. Let’s be real here, most men are obsessed with controlling women, makes them feel more macho and manly. Whoever goes around cutting up their bodies have sadistic fantasies. They feel good about ending their lives.”
“After three abusive marriages, I can relate to what you’re talking about,” Nancy Parker confessed before her radically feminist colleagues. “My second husband tried choking me to death with a strap after I refused to engage in anal sex. My third and final husband, he promised to kill me if I ever refused to stay with him. He wanted to control every move I made. Men are and will always be a part of my distant past. I have no use for them and get sick at the sight of them.”
Every member of S.A.V.E. related to what Nancy was saying.
Men were the enemies. All men paid for what a few men had done to women.
The male species were the filth of the Earth. Privately or openly, most women had no respect for them, and only dealt with them on a brief business basis.
“The monstrosity of these crimes are senseless,” Sandy chimed back in. “These killers are prepared to destroy anything or anyone who gets in their way. They possess a blind selfishness capable of anything.”
“Ladies, we must work together to bring these monsters to justice,” Carol added.
“Once I find out the exact location of this filthbag, I plan on taking the whole KCPD with me. He appears and disappears, and then he re-appears. It’s about to drive me out of my mind. For the sake of saving more lives, I’m coming at this bastard full speed ahead.”
The meeting of S.A.V.E. had been adjourned. The women emerged from their seats to dive into the snacks and drinks.
Two hours following the meeting among the women of S.A.V.E., Sandy and Carol and others constructed protest signs to express their views on the recent Brush Creek and Gillham Park killings. This time, Brush Creek became the prime location to stage their protest. A group of just over fifty women marched around in circles near the intersection of Brush Creek Boulevard and Benton Boulevard.
“We want justice! Find the killers now!” the group of women chanted in militant voices.
Media sources got tipped off and showed up with their cameras and reporters.
At the forefront of the protest, Sandy and Carol held up signs with the message: WOMEN ARE HUMAN! STOP THE KILLING NOW!
A reporter approached Sandy with her microphone aimed at her mouth. “Mam, could you tell News Channel Seven about this protest here around Brush Creek?”
The women’s voices got louder by the minute.
“We’re tired of all the killing,” Sandy shot off in a civil rage. “We’re tired of women turning up dead with their legs and arms amputated from their bodies, and then thrown into trashbags like animal carcasses. We’re tired of women being found dead with mud and sticks and rock and other foreign substances