Capture the Sun

The radio was too loud.

He had noticed it for the last ten minutes, but his frenzied mind could not signal his hand to turn the volume knob down. His fingers were clenched tightly around the wheel, flecked with blood not his own, the hospital bracelet on his wrist practically drenched with it. His wide, blue eyes were focused on the road, only one purpose in his thoughts, though his mind would not let him rest. The voices…they would not be silent.

It was because he was almost finished. His mission was almost complete. He had the last one and now, finally, he would be free.

Do you really want to be free?

The wheel jerked in his hand and the car swerved, frightening the cars behind him as he managed to wrench it back into traffic with an aggrieved cry. He wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choked sob. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? Couldn't they see he was doing everything he had been told? Couldn't they see that he had taken her for them?

I think you took her for yourself, Jeremy. Just like all the others…

"No!" he shouted aloud, turning a corner wildly in his agitation. No one noticed. It was Manhattan, after all. His tires squealed. "No, she's the last. The last. No more."

Are you sure?

The voice was less dominant this time and he managed to ignore it, trying to steady his driving. His hands were shaking and his vision was getting blurry with tears. He looked up into his rearview mirror, the polished glass showing him an average day in New York. No one knew. And no one would know. One more day and they would leave, and then…blessed silence.

He pulled his car into the entrance of an alleyway, frantically searching for anyone who would see him. There was no one. It was nearing midnight, the streets this deep into the city were deserted. He breathed a sigh of relief and then immediately jumped as someone rapped on his window. Looking through the cloudy glass, his mind shrieked at him as he noticed the police insignia on the person's uniform. How could they know? He had been so careful.

"Sir, roll down your window please."

Trembling, Jeremy did so, the edge of the glass disappearing into the door panel. Music swelled out into the night and the officer grimaced.

"Sir, could you turn down the radio?"

It took a moment for the request to register but finally Jeremy reached over and shut it off. He almost cried at the quiet that enveloped him. How long had it been since his mind had been his own?

"What's the problem, Officer?" he managed, between clenched teeth. He could not be foiled now. He was so close… The officer frowned, noticing his strange behavior.

"Can I ask what you're doing here, parked in this alleyway?" The man asked, hand settling securely on the gun at his belt. Jeremy's left hand tightened on the wheel as his other came to rest on his thigh.

"I have to go on," he said, his voice strained. "It's almost time. I can't be late."

"You wanna say that again, buddy?" The police asked, incredulously. A sudden thump from the trunk made both men turn to look towards the rear of the car, the officer becoming more suspicious. Another thump. Jeremy groaned.

"Sir, open your trunk."

Jeremy looked at his hand.

"Sir, open your---"

"I can't," Jeremy breathed softly. A shot rang out. A muffled exclamation from the trunk.

The officer looked at him with wide, surprised eyes as he fell to the wet pavement, dead instantly. Jeremy sobbed and dropped the smoking pistol onto the car floor, his bloodied hand going to the door lever. He stepped out of the car, not looking at the body of the man he had just killed. The officer's patrol car was parked a few feet away, just as silent as its driver. He spared it only a glance before sticking a key into the trunk and turning it to lift the back. The curled figure in the trunk met his gaze with a mixture of anger and fear. It was a combination he had seen many times before and it did not touch him. His eyes traveled down her body, surveying his handiwork with a detachment that kept him from falling apart over the things he had done. Her hands and feet were tied, the bindings stained red from the welts they had raised on her skin. He had not meant to hurt her, he never did, but it was necessary. She had fought more than the others and he was sure she had cracked one of his ribs when she had kicked him in the lungs. He had told her he was sorry as he bound and gagged her, dumping her in the trunk of his car, his face the last thing she saw before the trunk was lowered and she was cast into darkness. She was a little quieter now, bruised from the rough car ride, but her spirit remained unquenched as hatred filled her blue eyes and a curse slipped around her gag. He couldn't understand her words but he understood her tone. She hated him. His own eyes narrowed.

"It was your fault, you know. I didn't want to kill him, but you tried to get his attention. I told you if you stayed silent, no one would get hurt," he admonished her. She only gazed up at him, eyes wide. He reached in and touched her strawberry blonde hair gently. "Don't worry, everything will be alright tomorrow." She flinched away and he dropped his hand. He reached up to close the trunk.

"Soon," he said, as it clicked shut. A muffled cry sounded from inside. "Soon."

As Jeremy climbed back into his car, speeding away into the night, inside the dead officer's patrol car, the video camera saw everything, continuing to film long after it had captured Officer Faith Yokas' face.

TBC…

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Well, you asked for it and you got it! A chaptered story from yours truly. ^_^ It'll probably be about 4 or 5 chapters long, so bear with me. I'm actually an anime writer, so I'm basically over in that section all day long, working on my other fics. I hope you enjoyed this prologue, and for those of you who noticed, this story is slightly based on the X Files episodes "Duane Barry" and "Ascension", so some ideas might be parallel to that storyline. Sort of a crossover, I guess. Thanks for reading and comments are appreciated!