Sam Sawyer Chapter Four

Besides it
was this world’s impotent imperfect legal system that freed Kathy Wyatt’s
abductor, thereby enabling him to take her in the first place. So no, he was
not at all concerned with what passes for law and order on this ignorant
primitive world. Its people needed a protector-a job he was now uniquely
qualified to do.

He was a real-life
super-hero. But not some childish comic book clown weighed down with dangerous
naive notions of fair play and compassion toward unrepentant human beings who
delight in being monsters, choose to be monsters. Human beings who happily
wallow in the pain of their victims. Preying off their fellowman for fun and
profit is their life, their purpose, their true -identity. It is simply what
they delight in being. No doubt many of them were once were victims. But where
is there empathy, their compassion, not in their heart. And he now knew their
heart…

People driven
by the need to torture and kill the innocent should die. A harsh reality to be
sure. But rape, child molestation and murder are unspeakable crimes no amount
of prison time can ever adequately address. The only legitimate argument
against vigilantism is that an innocent person could easily be mistaken for the
guilty and suffer a terrible unearned fate.

Sam knew
Kathy Wyatt’s abductor was guilty. He also knew he was incapable of mistaking
an innocent person for a criminal. When you know the truth there’s no need for
a trial. But, according to this world’s law, this belief, his belief, his alien
point of view, this honest reality, made him the criminal. He, who’s only
desire was to rescue victims, present and future, from the very people the
current legal system bends over backward to protect and push back into an
unsuspecting unprotected society. This was their definition of justice. But,
endangering innocent people is never justice. But it is always a crime. So, who
was the criminal? Certainly not him…

“Thank you
Oloran for corrupting and killing the only family I ever had and making my
secret fantasy come true, a secret so secret even I didn’t know it ‘till it
happened.” He said rolling his eyes just before the old broken- down service
station zoomed into view far below. “Telescopic night vision, nice, better
have super strength,” he said, swooping down to the weed cracked concrete.

Feathery air
slid over his bare skin like gentle fingertips as in true super hero style he
landed on the balls of his feet settling into a spring- loaded crouch ten feet
from the dilapidated store -front garage. Traffic was light and he didn’t see
anyone around. A muffled groan escaped the structure. But it blared in his ears
like a siren. 

He raced
toward the origin of the sound; a roll top metal door. Wearing a big dumb grin,
he didn’t think, the words ‘this is so cool’, but he certainly felt them.

13

“Hope I’m
bullet proof.” The feeling faded, as did his grin. “Don’t assume anything, a
bit late for that…” his words trailed off as he took a quick look around and lay
his ear against the door’s hard corrugated surface. Cool metal pressed his
right ear. She moaned again. The fear in her voice was intolerable. Then
something unexpected happened. The metal warmed against his skin, glowed white
and sang out a single eardrum piercing note and for one moment became a loose
curtain of molecules. He passed through head- first. Fire flashed in the corner
of his right eye. A spinning missile of hot metal kissed his right temple. Ricocheting
to the left it plowed into the back seat of an old wreck, long since crushed
and forgotten.

Enraged, he launched
his body at the flash slamming into a tall heavy-set man. Both sailed through
the darkness and crashed against a grimy cinder block wall. The firecracker pop
of a hundred bones shattering at once echoed through the darkness. The man’s
massive form exploded beneath him like a burst water balloon, drenching him
with blood and other repulsive bodily fluids. Sam recoiled in dismay. The big
man was now just a torn lifeless sack of dead meat. It slid down the wall and
flopped at his feet like the spineless bag of garbage it was.

Sam could
feel the beast’s slime run down his face chest and legs. It was disgusting but
not at all painful, nothing a steaming hot shower couldn’t easily wash away.

At first, he
did not hear her muffled screams. A half second passed, then it hit him like a rock.
An eye blink later he was crouched beside her removing her gag.

 Coiled up in a shredded blue dress, her ankles
and wrist bound together by a stringy cord of hemp rope, she struggled against
the concrete floor’s greasy grit, scraping her knees and needlessly hurting
herself. He snatched her up as though she were made of paper. She fought
against him, frantic and totally unaware she was safe, that it was over.

“It’s
alright,” he said. “He’s dead, I killed him, but no great loss, right?” It was
no time for a joke. But he couldn’t help himself. The big dumb grin was back.

He carried her
over to the back seat, depositing her on its filthy but soft surface as gently
as he could. The rope bit into her skin. She whimpered. He reached down and
easily pinched it into. It fell apart like a strand of overcooked spaghetti.