The Broken Souls
A brilliant new psychological serial killer thriller featuring homicide detective Carson Ryder, hero of the bestselling ‘The Hundredth Man’ and ‘Her Last Scream.’Blood was everywhere, like the interior had been hosed down with an artery …The gore-sodden horror that greets homicide detective Carson Ryder on a late-night call out is enough to make him want to quit the case. Too late.Now he and his partner Harry are up to their necks in a Southern swamp of the bizarre and disturbing. An investigation full of twists and strange clues looks like it's leading to the city's least likely suspects – a powerful family whose philanthropy has made them famous. But behind their money and smiles is a dynasty divided by hate.Their strange and horrific past is about to engulf everyone around them in a storm of violence and depravity. And Ryder's right in the middle of it …
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The Broken Souls
J.A. Kerley
For my children,
Amanda and John. They make life shine.
Table of Contents
I exercised broad license in bending settings and institutions to the whims of the story. All should be regarded as fiction save for the natural beauty of Mobile and its environs. Any similarities between characters in this work and real characters, living or otherwise, is purely coincidental.
Eastern Mobile County, Alabama, early 2000s
âAre you sure he ran this way? I donât see anything.â
âKeep your damn voice down. Donât touch the blood. And just use light when you need it.â
Lucas heard voices in the distance and his eyes snapped open. The world was spinning slowly, like he was caught in a syrupy vortex. Lucas threw his arms out to his sides to hold on and felt his fingers touch grass. It was night, but he saw the dark shadows of nearby trees. Comets were spinning between their trunks, blinking on and off: comet, no comet. It smelled fresh here in cometland, like dew and wet leaves. A very peculiar effect, he thought. Also peculiar: a single star straight up in the sky, flashing, like the comets and the star were conversing.
âI see a car! Hidden behind the trees, branches over it. Heâs around here.â
âWeâll have to get rid of the car. Fast. Call for a trailer.â
Lucas closed his eyes and took a deep breath of cool air. The solitary star blinked. Another comet flashed across the sky. No, not comets, his clearing mind registered, it was flashlights pressing through fog. He was in a field beside a woods, damp weeds bristling against the sides of his face. Why was he in farmland? Had he gotten drunk? Why were there flashlights? Looking for something.
Looking for him.
What had he done?
The footsteps resumed, with the sound of bodies pushing aside branches, stepping on twigs. Flashlight beams swept through the weeds and trees. Lucasâs world turned white as a beam crossed him. He made himself lay absolutely still. The light passed by.
But in the moment of illumination he had seen something odd: his hand was red. He stared at his dark fingers, perversely entranced. Then he realized it wasnât just his hand: his blue institutional pajamas were soaked with blood.
The voices started again. Louder and closer.
âI saw something at the base of the microwave tower. It should be to your left; can you see the tower light blinking above the trees?â
âBe careful. Heâsâ¦resourceful.â
A montage of pictures formed in Lucasâs head, recent memories playing like a jittery movie. He started to remember and his gut went cold. He should have figured theyâd be coming. He knew too much.
âShouldnât the doctor be here? Why didnât you bring him?â
âShut up. Iâll circle to the far side of the tower. Keep the walkie-talkie low, light off. Iâll tell you when to move in.â
It was black and quiet for several minutes. Lucas wiped the blood from his hands to his pants, flexed fingers, arms, legs. He could move now, escape. He drew himself into an unsteady crouch as the comets started flashing again. His world turned white. Black. He stumbled to his feet, his knees like gimbals, seeming to wobble every direction. Run! his mind screamed.
âI see him, heâs up.â
âIâm coming in from my side. Get the stunner out.â
Lucas took a deep breath, calculated the angles his pursuers had chosen, figured his way past them. He gathered his energy into his core.
Just as he ran, the world turned white.
âDamn, he just ran into a tower support. Heâs down and rolling around.â
âGo!â
He heard running feet. Felt bodies fall over him, wrestle him over, his face pressing deep into the wet grass. He felt metal wrap his wrists, pain. He smelled sweat. Aftershave. And a piercing reek of fear, not his own.
âZap him!â
âHeâs not fighting.â
âI told you to ââ
There was a shivering blue explosion and the comets returned, each bringing a hundred stars to the party. They whooshed and tumbled and danced. It was beautiful.
In the distance, the voices started up again.
âThereâs something all over him. Jesus, Crandell, itâs blood.â
âGet him up and moving. Weâve got to get out of here.â
And then a mouth at his ear, hot and wet. A happy mouth, it seemed, like it had just consumed a delicious meal.
âWhat did you do, Lucas?â the happy mouth whispered. âWhat terrible thing have you done this time?â
