Scream Catcher Read Online Free Page B

When they do, they will attempt to ID him as Hector Lennox.
    But he will deny the obvious.
    There must be some mistake, he will insist. His name isn’t Hector Lennox.
    Who is Hector Lennox? They must have him confused with someone else, somebody with a black dragon tattooed to his forearm. Certainly he isn’t the only person in the world with a black dragon tattooed to his arm. Just take a peek at all those tourists hanging out on Main Street in the Village; all those bikers. Tattoo heaven!
    He will invite them to check his fingerprints (they’ve been altered with laser surgery). He will invite them to check his footprints (also altered). He will tell them to check his voice (again, surgically altered). If all that isn’t enough proof, he will provide all the ID they care to examine, including passport, New York State Driver’s license, Social Security Card, credit cards, even tax returns for the past three years—his occupation clearly stated as “house painter.” He will tell them that he’s been occupying the arcade since late last night. Because what the police don’t know is that backing up his alibi—for a high five-figure price—will be Wild Bill himself.
    But the alibi will be challenged. All because of a gaunt man/boy by the name of Thoroughbred. At present, Thoroughbred is ratting him out to the cops. The wild-haired kid stands on the opposite side of the arcade, picking at a hooked nose with an index finger on a pale right hand. With an iPhone pressed up against his egg head, he’s singing like Tweety Bird to the bad ass L.G.P.D.
    The coppers have wasted no time.
    Even now there’s a Jeep Cruiser parked directly across the street from Wild Bill’s, the large jar-headed cop in the driver’s seat no doubt staking the place out, snapping photographs.
    But Lennox is in control.
    He’s well aware that his kill game student, Thoroughbred, secretly snitches for the cops. He knows the kid does it for the easy money. But to make things interesting, he’s insisted that the kid make the call. Because what the police do not know is that Lennox wants to be arrested. He wants the challenge of manipulating the law. He craves the adventure, the challenge, the drama. Most of all, he requires the real-life experience of arrest, escape, and finally, the hunting down of his prey.
    His imminent arrest will serve as a prologue to his brand new kill game—the most challenging to date.
    … You are arrested at gunpoint. You are handcuffed, stuffed into a police cruiser, carted downtown, tossed into a basement cell. You are interrogated, beaten, deprived of sleep. The dimly lit basement is dank, dark, claustrophobic, the walls damp with sweat and blood. The bad police will kill you if you do not give them what they want. Your only choice: escape and go after Jude Parish!
    The challenge will not only provide the script to a brand new, first person kill game. It will offer up a brand new series of screams. And for an artist like Hector “the Black Dragon” Lennox, catching the real screams that come from real death is what will make his video games more revered than God.

6
     
    Lake George Road
    Tuesday, 8:22 A.M.
     
    A blue uniform silently slips behind the wheel of the Jeep, shifts the bucket seat backwards a few notches to accommodate long legs. As Mack lights another cigarette, the cop fires up the engine, pulls out of Sweeney’s rear lot, turns off in the direction of the lake road.
    Seated in the back, Jude can’t help but think that had he done even one thing differently, he might never have been in the position to witness the murder. Had he stayed in bed for three minutes more he would have missed it. He would have been too late. He would be home by now in the shower, the smell of bacon already frying on the stove.
    Mack’s cell phone rings. Pressing it up against his ear, he listens.
    Then, “You’re absolutely sure about this, Thoroughbred. There’s a man fits the A.P.B. playing a video game inside a