With The Vengeance Of A Child
 
Chapter 1: The End
Bartlen pulled up outside the schoolyard, taking his usual place between the giant oak trees that lined the school fence. The huge ancient trunks and low sweeping branches of these giants gave Bartlen the perfect amount of cover. Just enough to see, without being seen. Just how he liked it. In the gutter grew an ever amassing stack of cigarette butts, proof that Bartlen had been in that same spot, at the same time, for quite some time. He was a regular. Through the tall linear black gates of iron that made the entrance to the schoolyard, Bartlen sat and watched silently, the technicoloured hustle bustle chaos of children escaping from the school. Bartlen took a long hard considered draw on his cigarette, scratching at his unshaven face and digitally scrutinized the row of hard black bristles that lined his lower lip. Bartlen liked his little expeditions to the school, he used them to gain knowledge. He quickly learnt, which of the children were escorted, by whom and which of the children would walk back alone a couple of blocks to the safety of their homes. As Bartlen watched the chaos of the schools out brigade for the umpteenth time this week, he began to study the dirt beneath his fingernails and wondered how long it had been since they were clean. He didn't really care. He cared not for clean living and society, for they had only rejected him. He cared only for his own needs and smiled gleefully at how soon it would be until he fulfilled them.
 
Bartlen began to roll another cigarette, when he was sharply interrupted by a loud crash against the door of his van. Bartlen jumped. He dropped the cigarette paper and filter down between his legs and into the foot well of his Transit.
"Shit", he growled and started around to decipher the source of his sudden disturbance. Two young boys were backing away from the white van, one waving a hand gingerly to Bartlen,
"Sorry Mister", he giggled. Bartlen did not respond. The boy's actions had angered Bartlen. He didn't like little boys for a start, but even more so, highly uncomfortable with being startled by a child.
 
With a dismissing shake of the head, Bartlen reached down between his legs and began to gather the cigarette paper and filter, never taking his eyes off the schoolyard gates. Just then a familiar face began to approach the exit of the school drawing Bartlen to immediate attention. It was a young girl he'd seen many times, noticed many times and one Bartlen had a particularly keen eye for. She was small, petite for her age, about seven or eight. She had raven black hair with piercing blue eyes, pretty and almost doll like in the face. She wore a long red coat, a red scarf and carried a black rucksack. Bartlen knew this child was nearly always alone whilst leaving the school and if she did have company it would only ever be a gaggle of older, bigger girls teasing her and pulling her around. Everyday Bartlen would sit and watch as the little raven -haired girl walked up to the street corner and waited patiently for what he assumed to be her older sister to collect her.
 
As she neared the corner, she reached into her rucksack, pulling out an apple and a small bag of sweets. She vaulted up onto a red brick wall and began to eat. Bartlen watched her intently. He knew it wouldn't be long before her older sister came and they would continue to walk east towards Culver Street, one of the more up market areas of Des Moines, Iowa. Bartlen also knew that the arrival of the elder sister would not be for at least ten or fifteen minutes. With a last glance around to spot any imposing threats before his strike, Bartlen decided now was the time to make his move.
 
His Transit van was old and heavily beaten on the outside, but on the inside a vast emporium of toys, games, sweets and chocolates. What lurked, hidden away in the glove compartment was however, far more sinister. Bartlen started the ignition of the old van and the diesel engine gave up a throaty rattle into the cold air as black smoke bellowed from the exhaust. He reached quickly into the passenger seat and grabbed a pair of black leather gloves. His pulse raced hard as he shivered with the adrenalin almost dropping both gloves as he struggled to put them on. Next he would remove a small bottle of ether from the glove compartment and a large white handkerchief. He opened the bottle and began to invert it over the white cotton.
"This had better be enough," he said to himself, his voice still shaking with fear and excitement. Bartlen placed the handkerchief onto the passenger seat and began to maneuver his van out of his parking space.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
He made a quick assured turn in the road and proceeded in the direction of the little raven haired girl. He turned right at the corner of the side street and pulled in, ten yards away from his intended. He quickly
reached for his red baseball cap and sun glasses donned them both and grabbed the handkerchief from the
 passenger seat. He nervously unscrewed the brown glass ether bottle one more time and topped up the handkerchief, being careful not to inhale as he did so. His next task would be to encourage the young girl to walk towards the van and become out of eyesight from parents, teachers and passers by.
 
He was now ready. He stepped out of his van slowly and stood bolt upright. He tried to act normal, as normal as he could, so as not to appear a threat to the young child.
"Excuse me young lady", he said in a soft voice. "I'm supposed to take this junk to a garage sale for my friend, except I'm a little lost" he paused. The young girl looked him up and down. "Can you tell me how to get to Culver Street?" The little girl smiled and leapt of the wall with her arm raised, pointing east.
"Sure" She answered. "That street there, follow east until Main Street and it would be the first on the left". Bartlen repeated the directions to make out like he was trying to reach an understanding with the girl. Of course he knew where Culver Street was, he knew the little girl lived there. He'd followed her there before.
"Well Ma'am, thank you so much for that, I thought I'd never find the place", Bartlen smiled. "Let me give you something for your trouble? I got a whole bunch of kids stuff in the van for this garage sale, I guess you can pick out what you like". As he said this, the little girl approached the van her bright blue eyes already sparkling at the thought of her reward. Bartlen opened the back door of his van, revealing the Aladdin's Cave of children's goodies inside." Help yourself" He grinned.
" Why thanks, Mister", the little girl said as she danced towards the van and it's treasure.
"What's your name?" Bartlen asked.
"Jenny, er Jenny Martin, sir", said the girl already surveying the vast collection of teddies and dolls, for one she didn't already have. Her coat, clothes and mannerisms all suggested that she came from a good, hard working, well to do family. Bartlen liked this, he liked well mannered children.
"Would it be okay to have this one please, mister?" Jenny laughed, holding up a doll that looked a lot like herself." It's like my sister, Rebecca", she giggled.

"Sure. Why not grab her some candy and some chocolate while your there then?"                                                 "Gee Thanks, Sir", Jenny smiled as if all her Christmas's had come at once.

As Jenny climbed into the back of the van towards the huge stockpile of chocolate and candy bars, Bartlen stepped inside too. He quickly slammed the back door shut behind them. Jenny, startled by the sudden bang and comparative darkness, spun around to face Bartlen with a look of sheer horror in her eyes. She tried to scream, but Bartlen grabbed her arm, pulling her close to him and pushing the ether to her face. Jenny kicked at him and struggled but she suddenly felt light headed. Her brain was telling her to fight, but her body was no longer listening. Her eyelids became heavy and her short, sharp panic breaths were becoming deep, undulating sighs. Her legs weakened and buckled under her weight. Bartlen let go of her, allowing her to drop weightily to the floor. He placed the handkerchief over her face and covered her with a large thick blanket, from head to toe. With a moment of perverse elation at having his victim in his grasps, he now wondered what he should do next. "Get the hell outta here!" he said to himself with a tone of forced sarcasm.

 

He Jumped from the back of the van, brushing himself off and straightening himself out, making sure he didn't look like the guy who just kidnapped some poor kid. He walked to the front of the van and put his key in the door lock. Turning the key, the front of the van locked. Nerves. Bartlen hadn't locked the front of the van and now had to unlock it again, to get back in. He sat down in the drivers seat and removed his sunglasses. Not that he needed them anyway, it was autumn, no sun and getting pretty cold. He started the ignition and began to drive down the same street he had pulled into and continued to drive back towards his own side of town. He looked out of the passenger window to see that he had been just in time. Rebecca, Jenny's older sister was making her way to the meeting point, completely oblivious to the fact that her baby sister was directly beside her now, in a deep sleep and at the mercy of Bartlen. So fragile, so helpless.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Rebecca Strolled casually down Maple Street towards the corner of School Avenue, holding the hand of her Boyfriend, Andy. Rebecca was very much like her sister, but had exchanged the raven-haired doll like look for the more morbid Gothic look. She wore black clothes, lots of silver jewellery, a long black velvet coat and a hell of a lot of black make up. Her T-shirts comprised of a number of unsavoury slogans that she had been sent home from high school many a time for wearing. Rebecca being her usual rebellious self didn't care one bit. She loved to shock and get right in peoples faces, after all she was fifteen years old and at that age. Andy was sixteen, his hair was made raven black with the aid of some hair dye, his natural colour of light mousy brown was made only distinct by his eyebrows and some soft downy hairs that were appearing on his chin and upper lip. Proof that one day, he would finally be a man.

"So where's your sister anyway?" asked Andy, looking to see that Jenny was not in her usual spot on wall at the meeting point.

"How the hell should I know?" Rebecca replied "What do I look like, her keeper?" Rebecca was used to Jenny not being at that street corner. She knew that all should had to do was walk into the school and there would be Jenny, crying into the arms of her teacher or the school nurse.

"She probably got her head flushed in the toilet again" Rebecca sighed.

"I wish she'd get it together, you know? Start fighting back. If I caught those bastards hurting her I'd kick all their asses!" Boasted Andy." It's not fair on the poor kid". Andy liked to sound concerned for Jenny. It scored him much hero points with Rebecca, but skinny, beautiful, feminine, Andy with his long hair, black nails and eyeliner pencil was a really big sissy. No match for a large eight year old.

"Come on, Dufus", chirped Rebecca." We had better get down that school and find out what happened to her this time".

 

Andy and Rebecca instantly adopted the whole wide-eyed staring freak pose and began to attempt to weird out parents and children as they walked towards the black iron gates of the schoolyard. They trampled with their heavy boots through piles of golden brown leaves, making as much mess of the neat piles as they possibly could. It was quite a piece of theatre. Rebecca and Andy loved the attention and the onlookers just loved to laugh at how pretentious and stupid they looked. Of course Andy and Rebecca thought they looked great. Children began to shout at them and make ghostly noises at them before laughing hard and running away, before "Rebecca of the Damned" or "Andy of the living Dead", could put a curse on them, or some crazy shit like that.

"I fucking hate kids", growled Rebecca, as a soaking wet tennis ball hit her in the middle of her back. Rebecca looked for the culprit but concluded that the ball had been hurled from an unknown origin. They made it through the school gates, up the stairs and into the main corridor of the school. Children's pictures and various notice boards lined the walls of the now deserted school. The floor was hard and shiny in a slate grey colour and the walls a sickly yellow beige. The school was silent, but you could still feel the energy of a hundred noisy children, stampeding through the halls. Their smell was everywhere hanging in the air, with a strange almost echo of laughter and shouting, playing back on a continuous loop echoing down the halls.

 

Rebecca stopped just outside class four A. She gently knocked on the large brown door. The classroom was laid out with singular desks in a neat row all facing front. The room was cheerfully bright, with large colourful pictures of huge pre-historic beasts that the children had drawn as part of their "Dinosaurs" project, that they had spent all of last term and part of the holidays completing.

"Come on in", called a bright female voice. It was Jenny's teacher, Miss Calvinstone. Miss Calvinstone was young and fair-haired. She was curvaceous and attractive, with a kind face. Miss Calvinstone was the nice teacher that had replaced the old battle-axe that Jenny had the misfortune of last term, Mrs. Rose. However strict though, Mrs. Rose was always kind to Jenny after she had had her head flushed or her clothes painted and torn. Even the time Jenny was coated in fart gas, Mrs. Rose took care of her until Rebecca came to collect her.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Miss Calvinstone, you haven't seen Jenny have you? She's not at the corner like usual", Rebecca asked politely.

"Well, no. She left on time, right with the bell. I hope she hasn't got into some trouble again". Miss Calvinstone was well aware that Jenny was the butt of most of the classroom jokes.

"Yeah, me too" shrugged Rebecca. "I'll go check with the nurse"

"Okay. Sorry I couldn't be more help" cringed Miss Calvinstone.

"Thanks" Rebecca smiled nervously as she left the brightly painted room. "Come on, Romeo!" Rebecca snapped at Andy. She noticed that Andy was staring at Miss Calvinstone with a look that only the most serious of schoolboy crushes could muster. 

"Er, What, oh yeah?" Andy stuttered as he turned to follow his blackened bride out of the classroom, but not before turning around to have one last look at the blonde hair frame that surrounded Miss Calvinstone's

ample cleavage.

 
"She's with the damned nurse, I guess" stated Rebecca confidently, failing to completely cover the nervousness in her voice. Andy could feel her becoming anxious and placed a reassuring hand on her black velvet back. Rebecca smiled nervously back at Andy.
"It's o.k." He said. They made their way past the warm gymnasium and across the main school hall. This passage lead them into a benign corridor, mainly used only by the staff and teachers to get to the staff canteen and the reception area. It was dark and completely unlittered with the work of the students. Nothing hung on the walls, even the paint seemed to struggle to cling on. The reception area was busy with three typists, furiously tapping away at their desks and two other women with ears pressed to telephones. Next to the lively reception office was a blue door marked "sick bay". This was a small blue room with two leather wipe clean beds, a carpet and not much else. Rebecca remembered that most of her math's classes were conducted in the sick bay. She hated math's and would normally have a headache or a stomach ache as soon as the times tables came up on the blackboard.
"That's it there" Rebecca pointed to the closed blue door. "Wait here?"
Andy nodded his agreement and gently kissed Rebecca's cheek. Rebecca pulled away quickly more concerned with locating Jenny than sharing a tender moment with Andy.
 
Rebecca knocked gently on the nurse's door, but there was no answer. She knocked again a little louder this time. Debbie the school nurse was a middle aged lady and a little hard of hearing. Still nothing. Rebecca looked back at Andy, who gave a weak smile and a shrug.
"Rebecca? Rebecca Martin? A voice bellowed from down the hall. Rebecca turned to see her old first school teacher, Mr. Roads. Ben Roads was an African American, well dressed in a sharp black suit and tie, with extremely well polished shoes. Mr. Roads was different to the way she remembered, for age was not being kind to him and a wool of grey was rapidly engulfing each corner of his black afro hair.
"Hi, Mr. Roads" Rebecca smiled falsely, not needing his distraction.
"My oh my, I was just noticing to myself how much you've grown since I saw you last. You looking for young Jenny?"
"Yeah, I am as it happens, I don't suppose you've seen her" Rebecca pleaded.
"Afraid not this time, Rebecca. Oh Debbie isn't in there either she's in the staff canteen"
"Oh, Thanks a lot, Mr. Roads" Rebecca sighed. Again Rebecca glanced back at Andy who gave her no expression this time.
"Where is that little Bitch?" Rebecca snarled.
"Calm down" said Andy gently "We'll find her"
"O.k., O.k." Rebecca reasoned. "You stand on the corner and wait for her in case she's already there and we missed each other. Call me on my cell phone if she is, I'll check the school and see if she's hiding out in here somewhere"
"Sounds like a plan, Babe" Andy said banging out a drumbeat on his legs before springing into action.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Rebecca and Andy made their way back towards the main school area, back through the hall with its vast wooden floor and decorated walls. They quickly arrived back at the main entrance.
"Keep in touch" Rebecca said as they parted company at the stairs. Andy nodded and made his way out of the gates, leaving Rebecca to search out the needle in the haystack that was never there in the first place. She continued to walk down the long corridor towards the toilets and as she did, she couldn't help reassuring herself in her mind that Andy would ring her, let her know that Jenny was safe and sound. Although she gave herself the mental reassurance, she couldn't help knowing in her heart that something was seriously wrong.
 
Meanwhile Andy had started to walk back to the corner, offering himself the same kind of reassurances as Rebecca. But on reaching the red brick wall at the usual meeting point, he found himself stopping dead in his tracks and looking around in all directions for some kind of explanation. She was nowhere in sight. Andy suddenly found the false air of concern that had he had often shown for Jenny, becoming real, so real it was as if he could reach out and touch it. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and hit the redial. The last person he called was Rebecca and it rang only once before being answered.
"Andy? Is she there?" Rebecca gasped."
"No, not here, I can't see her anywhere" Andy replied with a tone of perplexity.
"Oh, my God!" she cried "I cant find her either"
"What are we gonna do, Becky?" asked Andy helplessly.
"I'm gonna ring mom"
"O.k. you ring your mom and I'll keep looking around here"
"I'm gonna kill her when I get my hands on her, going off on her own like this" snapped Rebecca unaware that the chances that her baby sister was already dead.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 2: The Silence.
 
Cynthia Martin sat down at her desk almost completely hidden by the enormous towers of files, cases and papers that had grown on her desk like a small city. This was not an unusual situation for Cynthia. She was the first line of communication between the general public and the masters of the antiques world. Her job was to carefully study each case file sent to her and decipher the home and leisures, from the genuine old world treasures. During a normal working day, Cynthia would be burdened by a great number of false hopes and blatant hoaxes, which were quickly dismissed by Cynthia's expertise and keen eye for detail. Out of the few genuine cases came little amazement. Most were family heirlooms passed down after the death of an elderly relative, which the family of the deceased now wished to cash in on. However, every now and then a real gem would arrive on Cynthia's desk along with the rest of the clap trap and become a piece of magnificent history and a thing of beauty for the world to behold. This was Cynthia's bread and butter, what she lived for, although it was a rare and seldom occasion.
"Here you go, Mrs. Martin" Said Kate the secretary, as she placed a hot steaming latte on the edge of Cynthia's desk, in the one available space.
"Thanks Kate" Yawned Cynthia as she stretched her arms to the sky." I needed one of those"
Kate stepped away from Cynthia's side of the desk, acknowledging the sheer quantity of Cynthia's workload.
"Anything exciting?" Kate enquired.
"You could say that" Laughed Cynthia pushing a red ring binder in Kate's direction. Kate stepped awkwardly forward to read the open file. Kate and Cynthia were obviously from two completely separate walks of life, they were like chalk and cheese. Cynthia was a tall, slim highly professional looking woman. She dressed in Armani and Gucci and only in colours that would compliment her blue eyes, fair skin and jet -black hair. Kate on the other hand was short in comparison, robust with a large motherly bosom. She wore only high street brand clothing that did no favours for her red hair and pale, freckled complection. Her outfits were often damaged, altered or just ill fitting to her large figure. 
"What is it?" Asked Kate "Anything good?"
"Oh Kate, I think you have to read this one to believe it" Chuckled Cynthia as she sat back from her computer screen and turned her attention to the untouched latte to her right.
"Ah, just what the doctor ordered" Cynthia gave a savouring eyes closed shrugging smile of appreciation to the hot beverage, before returning to her labourious typing. Cynthia was startled as Kate suddenly flung her head back with stupor and disbelief, before letting out a huge roar of uncontrollable laughter. It would appear that, a Mr. Marcus Cohen of Illinois had come across what he believed to be an ancient Egyptian artefact. The statue could have been genuine too, had it not been made of plastic, nor had it come in a bag marked "Caspar's Bazaar - Souvenirs of Cairo!"
"I know" Chuckled Cynthia "I can't believe these people either"
"Takes all sorts, I guess. I'll leave you to it, Cynthia" Kate laughed shaking her head still in a state of disbelief, still smirking at the thought of that idiot, Cohen from Illinois.
Cynthia forgetting the small interuption took another sip of latte, cracked her knuckles and set back to her work. With file in left hand and typing with the right Cynthia could get through the day in half the time, or so she thought.
"Oh Cynthia?" Kate was again hovereing in Cynthia's Office.
"Yeeeees" Cynthia looked back up with some annoyance at Kate's second invasion.
"Your Daughter, Rebecca's on line one. Will you take it?"
"Sure. Buzz her through"Replied Cynthia, as if Kate had to ask the question. Cynthia picked up the reciever and began to speak.
"Becky, Hey. How's it...."
"It's Jenny mom"Rebecca interupted "we can't find her. I looked all over. Andy's been looking. We can't see her, mom"
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
"O.k honey, take a deep breath" Cynthia's face took on a wide-eyed stare, as her pulse began to race. "Start at the beginning"
"She's not at the school, mom. We looked everywhere"
"You know what I think has happened, Becky?" Said Cynthia softly. "I think Jen got fed up waiting for you and lover boy and walked home herself. You know she gets cold and fed up waiting, you don't exactly rush for your little sister these days"
"You think that's what she did?" Rebecca said, feeling almost as if her little sister had rejected her.
"I think it could be" Cynthia chirped with an air of matter of fact in her voice. "look, I'll call her friends, maybe she went with them, if she did I'll call you and let you know. If she's not at home call me back and we'll panic then. Okay?"
"Okay, mom. I love you"
"Love you too, Becky. You go on home now. Keep in touch, let me know when you find her"
"Okay mom, Bye" Cynthia hung up the phone, shaking her head. The last thing she needed was a distraction and it seemed to be the first, last and only thing she was getting. Cynthia stared at the computer screen and tapped her forehead, as if she was trying to gently wake up her work head again. She'd totally lost where she had got up to.
 
 
Cynthia deciding that she needed a break anyway pulled her palm top computer out of her handbag. She opened it up and typed the name "Johnston" into the search box. Within an instant the computer gave her the address and phone numbers of Karen Johnston. Karen was the mother of Chloe Johnston one of Jenny's only two known assossciates. As Cynthia read the numbers on the screen she noticed the entry date was nearly two years ago. Cynthia began to think of how long it had been since Jenny had spoken of Chloe Johnston or Vicky Elliot, the only other friend and wondered if Jenny was still in their favour. Jenny would seldom speak of her friends and it was a mystery to the Martin family as to whether or not Jenny had any friends at all.
 
Cynthia picked up the reciever and keyed in her husband, Mark's cellphone number. It rang for some time before he picked up.
"Hey honey. Look, can I call you back? I got the Mercia's here looking at this house and I wanna move quick before this asshole pulls out again"
"Not really, I got a call from Becky. She can't find Jen. She wasn't at the school when Becky got there. Now I think she just went back on her own. You now how Jen said she would if Becky kept her leaving her for so long?"
"Yeah, I know" Sighed Mark "I'll make my excuses and I'll drive on back to the house, and see if everything's okay"
"Thanks Sweetheart"
"I don't need this shit, really I don't honey, Becky's gonna answer for this"
"Sure, don't worry about that" Replied Cynthia "I already talked to her about leaving Jen so long"
"See you back at the mad house?" Smiled Mark.
"It's a date" Laughed Cynthia as she replaced the handset.
 Cynthia satisfied that evrything was being done and that all angles were covered decided on waiting for Becky or Mark to call back before bothering other parents.
 
 
The family home of the Johnstons was always a busy affair. With four children, two cats, a dog and a popular afro-hair salon in the basement, Karen always had her work cut out. There was no Mr.Johnston. He had been killed five years previously along with a colleague in a tragic construction accident. Darren Johnston and Roy Bilton had been sat on a large pile of railway sleepers, taking afternoon tea, when a crane gave into it's load and sent four tonnes of steel support gurders crashing to the ground below.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
An official inquest into the deaths of the construction workers had concluded, that the crane-hire company had been at fault. They had supplied a crane on that day that was over due an inspection, with devastating consequences.
 
With the crane-hire company at fault, they were required by the courts, to pay each widow handsomely for their losses and Karen, despite losing her husband was given the freedom of financial security. Bitterly taking the money, believing it was a small price to receive for such a loss, Karen left the family home in Alabama to begin a new life in Des Moines. Nobody ever knew just how much Karen had received, she never divulged and it was considered rude to ask, although everybody was aware that, neither her nor the children would ever go without.