“Did you hear the latest about Bruce?” Cora’s youthful face wrinkled with earnestness as she leaned forward.

Susan, her companion at the table, looked shocked. “I didn’t know there was anything to hear! What is it?”

The small coffee shop grew as silent as a tomb.

Cora coughed politely into her hand. “Well, I really shouldn’t tell you this, but I heard from Dwayne that Bruce is the chief of that gang of sinners who…”

“Really? Bruce always seemed normal enough whenever I…”

“That’s just it! That’s the way it always is. I read a book about psychopaths once, they always look normal on the outside. Like perfect angels of light…”

“I still can’t believe it…I think that…”

There was a racket as an old man stood to his feet and straightened his filthy grey overalls. “I believe it! Just two days ago, Bruce had a young woman in the backyard, they went into the house together and I never saw her come out again…She’s probably buried in his basement right now!”

Susan knew the story was true. She was the young woman that had been visiting Bruce that evening. She had left at one-thirty in the morning, which was why the old mechanic hadn’t seen her leave.

Still, the truth didn’t stop anyone from airing their opinions and there were many…The volume of accusations and insinuations rose to a murderous crescendo…

Finally, Susan had enough, she stood and began to shout over the chaos of condemnation around her. “This is utterly ridiculous! Bruce has lived here for years, has he ever shown us anything to be concerned about? Now you throw all that history out on the word of one person. Dwayne may be the chief of police, but even he can make a mistake. The truth is, I was the young woman who was visiting Bruce that evening…and…”

“And why should we believe you?” The old mechanic shouted back. “Dwayne is a good man, he saved my grandson Johnny from drowning just last week. If Dwayne says that Bruce is a killer then I believe it! Susan, no disrespect, but just because you’re sweet on the fella doesn’t mean we gotta close our eyes to the truth about what’s really goin on around here!”

A roar of agreement and applause rattled the cheap blue dishes on the tables.

The old man’s white beard trembled with anger as shook his scrawny fist. “We know what the truth is…Dwayne has always been clear on that. The thing is, we gotta start actin on that truth…we gotta put an end to that gang of sinners roamin around here and raisin Hell…”

A shocked silence fell over the dimly lit room.

Susan knew then that she would need some help. The only person who might listen to her was Bruce’s partner, Vance…as soon as she managed to escape this coffee shop she would try to find him.

A savage grin crossed the face of the prophetic old man. “Don’t look so surprised…Dwayne has been preachin on this for awhile now…we know the truth…thing is, the only way the truth is ever gonna set us free is if we start actin on it. Don’t ya agree?”

***

A heavy cowboy boot slammed into Bruce’s lithe body. He shook with the impact and then collapsed face down on the concrete floor.

“Well Bruce my boy, give me one reason I shouldn’t kill ya now…”

Bruce gasped for breath, filling his nostrils with the smell of cement.

“Lost your tongue heh? Well, I’ll answer the question for ya! I don’t kill ya because I want ya ta tell me what ya talked about the other night.”

Bruce twisted his head to face his enemy. “You already know…you killed Marsha…you killed Travis and all the others, didn’t you?”

A screwdriver that had fallen from his tool chest caught his eye. It was weak and dull, but perhaps, just perhaps it could be used as a weapon…

“Marsha was a mental case…nobody around here is gonna miss her…and Travis…Travis was just a worthless addict wastin’ the resources of the church. Now, what did you and Susan yak about? I‘ve heard some of the terrible things that Susan has been sayin’ about me. Was she sayin’ stuff like that to you?”

“And what if she was?”

Dwayne glanced over at the mirror hanging on the bare concrete wall. It was one of the two decorations in this basement.

The other was a naked light bulb in the middle of the room that provided a semblance of illumination.

“Exactly, what if she was…that’s what I want ya to tell me…”

Dwayne smiled at his reflection; his round face looked warm and healthy, friendly even. His western-styled jean jacket fit snugly and primly, just as it should for an officer of the law.

“You’re probably thinkin‘ to yourself, why should I tell Dwayne anythin if he’s just gonna kill me anyway?”

Bruce pulled himself into a sitting position and a few inches closer to the screwdriver. “To be honest…The thought had crossed my mind.”

Dwayne wiped away a small spot of dust on the stairway. Dust was a major problem with this basement. He hated it. He removed his cowboy hat and then carefully set it on a dirt-free step.

“I don’t blame ya Bruce…I don’t blame ya one bit for thinkin like that.”His cowboy boots clacked against the floor as he moved toward the trembling figure of his victim.

“But the thing is, if ya don’t start talkin, I’m gonna hafta start givin you a beatin…and it wouldn’t be long before you’ll be beggin me ta grant mercy on your tarnished soul. Now, stand up and face me like a man…Go on…”

Bruce grasped the screwdriver and then struggled to his feet, swaying as he regained his balance.

“You already know everything about this island…nothing happens here without your say so…why should I talk to you about stuff you already know?”

There was a soft chuckle. “This ain’t about the information…this is about teachin ya ta be obedient.” Dwayne lowered his voice into a husky whisper. “So tell me what ya yakked on about and maybe I’ll grant ya a little mercy…”

Bruce shivered as resolve coursed through his veins. A vision of Susan’s long blonde hair and brilliant white smile filled his mind. She never took a drink, but she was always bubbling with joy. In character and in features she was in many ways, a Julia Roberts look alike. Only two days ago, she had come over and pleaded for his help. Bruce had vowed that she would get it.

Dwayne glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. “You’ve got five minutes ta tell me what I wanna hear…if ya do, I’ll kill ya quickly…if ya keep on fightin…that’s alright too…I got all afternoon ta beat some sense into ya.”

Dwayne sat on the wooden steps and then began caressing the sleek brown and black German Shepherd sitting at his feet. Dwayne’s glittering eyes never left Bruce’s body. The thought occurred to Dwayne that Bruce looked like a black-haired Harrison Ford. What a pity it was that such a fine body would soon be battered and destroyed.

Bruce gripped the screwdriver ever more tightly as he stepped toward his enemy. “This is all just a game to you, isn’t it? How long do you think you can keep on killing before people start catching on?”

Dwayne revealed a mouthful of perfect white teeth as he grinned. “Right now, the game is to see how long I can keep on killin and avoidin takin the blame…” The soft dark laughter graced the room once again. “Eventually everybody around here is gonna end up like you…like Susan…even Vance…yep, sooner or later they’re all gonna see through my lyin and see who I really am…but when that happens, we’ll start playin a different game…kinda like the one you an me are gonna be playin soon…only a whole lot bigger…”

***

The body of Vance lay crumpled on the road.

He had tried to stop the mob and had been beaten senseless for his trouble.

Susan felt numb as she stared at the sight. The chilly weather assaulted her skin but she didn’t even notice that. Ahead of her, she could see the mob of overall-wearing men and women. Each of them wore a beard, a scowl, and carried either a pitchfork or a rope. They were singing The Battle Hymn of the Republic as they marched down the dirt-covered road toward Bruce’s small house trailer.

It was easily recognizable, it was the only house trailer around with an obviously concrete basement. Besides, the name Bruce Sundel was clearly written on a weather-beaten wooden sign at the end of his driveway.

Susan knew that if she didn’t take action, no one would.

The white-bearded ringleader raised his rifle into the air as he stepped out ahead of the mob. “All right boys, this here is where Dwayne says the chief of sinners lives and holds his meetins…today we’re gonna stop them get-togethers once and for all.”

“Hold it! Listen to me….please…” Susan panted desperately as she slowed to a stop in front of the mob. “You can’t do this, Bruce is innocent! I can prove it!”

“I told ya before Missy, Dwayne gives us all the truth we need…now, you better get out of our way…we’re gonna do what we hafta do and you sure ain’t gonna stop us… ”

The chorus of violent laughter raised goosebumps on Susan’s arms.

Harsh voices shouted orders and ideas.

The pistol Susan had purchased for protection weighed heavily in her pocket. Perhaps truth could only prevail at the point of a gun.

***

The sound of a chattering of a mob distracted Dwayne. He turned his head to peer up the stairway, as he did, Bruce sprang into action.

The dull screwdriver slid smoothly into his pocket.

A better plan had presented itself.

The mob grew louder.

Dwayne began to step toward the stairway.

The mirror was easy enough to tear from its mounting on the wall. A moment flew past as the heavy mirror twisted, twirled, and finally came down upon Dwayne’s bald head with all the strength Bruce could muster.

The glass exploded, falling to the floor like a sparkling rain.

Bruce shoved aside Dwayne’s falling body and then raced up the stairs like a lion racing toward the back of its prey.

***

“There he is boys, the chief killer himself! Get ‘em!” The seething mass of raging humanity charged forward as one pulsing unit.

Bruce stopped abruptly as he realized his predicament. He changed course, running as fast as he could. The plan was to make it to the small forest behind his house trailer.

He was sure he could make it.

It would be easier to hide in the forest.

A blood-soaked apparition lunged into his path.

Bruce froze.

Dwayne spat a blob of crimson spittle onto the ground as blood dripped from the cleft in his double chin.

Bruce glanced warily between the mob advancing rapidly from the west and Dwayne standing in the east.

He pulled the screwdriver from his pocket.

Rivers of red streamed from the savage gashes in Dwayne’s head and face. He looked like a freshly murdered ghost who had returned from the grave.

His tongue licked the droplets of blood from his lips and then, he too began to advance toward Bruce.

The German Shepherd held his head high as he strode beside his master.

Bruce’s eye caught sight of the friendly, wholesome face of Susan on the other side of the crowd.

Perhaps there was hope for them all yet…

Susan raised her pistol and aimed. Dwayne would be first, he was the source of every evil thing that had happened around here. Perhaps if he died some semblance of sanity would return to this island.

Her finger squeezed against the trigger.

A tear fell as the gun exploded and jerked in her hand.

Dwayne dropped to the ground as if he had been hit by a truck.

The mob gasped as if it were one body.

Time seemed to stand still.

Driven by terror, Bruce began to run away from Dwayne… Before he knew it, he had reached the road and was racing along the gravel path toward freedom.

Then, slowly, Dwayne’s arm began to move.

He barked out a harsh command as his index finger pointed toward Susan.

The German Shepherd charged forward and then began leaping at Susan‘s throat.

She fought bravely but with rapidly fading strength.

His sharp teeth were hungry for her flesh.

It was a struggle that she was destined to lose.

Still, Susan managed to squeeze out a couple of haphazard shots before the dog forced her onto her back.

Dwayne jumped to his feet and whistled.

The dog snarled, breathing a foul burst of breath onto Susan’s face. Then, the animal turned and trotted obediently back toward his master.

Dwayne was a blur as he ran after his enemy.

As he reached his target, reached out to grab Bruce’s arm.

Bruce’s screwdriver fell from his fingers, landing in the dirt beside Vance’s prostrate body.

The great escape was officially over.

“It seems like we gotta little sin problem here. I’ll tell ya what we’re gonna do…We’re gonna string’em up and his girlfriend can watch and learn what happens to sinners around here…”

Dwayne stared directly at her for a moment. As he did so, Susan could feel a strange paralysis creep over her body.

It was as if she was being frozen alive.

She could only lie still and watch as Dwayne and the militant mob of zombies marched Bruce toward the woods.

If only things had been different.

If only Dwayne had never started to preach.

If only Dwayne had never been appointed chief of police.

Bruce was raging, fighting the iron grip that held him.

Dwayne shook his head. “The consequences of gossip ain’t that easy to escape…You and Vance shoulda thought of that before you started listenin to the things that Susan was sayin about me. Don’t you worry though, after I’m done with ya, I’ll drag Susan and Vance over to the river and send ‘em on a little trip down to Deadman’s Falls…” Dwayne raised his voice. “Rig that rope nice and high boys…we want a merciful hangin.’”

Hands were moving all over his body…clutching, grasping, scratching, but Bruce kept his gaze fixed upon Susan…how pitiful she looked, lying there upon the grass, staring wide-eyed in his direction.

Still, she was beautiful to him.

If only they had been given the opportunity to get to know each other better.

As the rope went around his neck, Bruce breathed up a final prayer that someone would someday find the courage to confront Dwayne…that someday the world would be free from all of his evil.

Approving cheers rose from the woods as the rope stretched tight and Bruce was hoisted into the air. Only a few moments later Dwayne could be heard leading the mob in another rousing chorus from, The Battle Hymn of the Republic.

Dwayne’s truth had prevailed.

It was a great day for the island.