The Other Half Of A Broken Heart

The intermingling of cruel laughter and blood curdling screams filled the silence of old Jimmy's world. Sadly, Jimmy's mind no longer belonged to him. It had been blank for a very long time. If he had been capable of any thought, he would be thanking the gods for the Alzheimer's disease that had claimed it years ago. As his old tired eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, he was mercifully unaware of the horror taking place around him. His eyes, eyes that had seen so much suffering and pain, were glued to the dull white space above him, on this, the last hour of the last day of his life. Not one part of his tall, shriveled body flinched with the sound of pain being systematically applied to a woman strapped to a chair in the nearby den. Forty-five minutes of piercing screams drifted through the old man's ears without a quiver of acknowledgement on his weather-beaten face.

"The child, where is the child, Marlo?" The words, repeated over and over, were followed by moaning and painful cries from the woman fearing another knife puncture.

Suddenly, the screams stopped. Silence filled the air, but Jimmy never noticed. He never heard steps entering his room. His immobile body lay helpless while one of the thugs who had forced his way into the home stood watching him. Tossing a small object on the floor near Jimmy's bed, the demonic beast smiled cruelly. Then, chanting in a whisper-like sound, the evil one lowered a pillow and began pressing it forcefully over Jimmy's nose and mouth. A glimmer of something bright was the last thing to enter Jimmy's eyes. There was no fear as his long hard life came to its violent end. He was finally at peace. Thankfully, he never heard the sad cry of a child.

As late afternoon shadows were engulfing the Arizona ranch, wailing from a very young child broke the silence of the dead. No one heard. No one cared. Stealthily, like the vermin they were, two figures ran from the ranch toward a waiting car hidden near the horrific scene. Hastily, they removed the bloodied rubber gloves they wore. Immediately, the taller one of the two men opened a black bag, his bag of tools, and threw the articles inside. Then, picking up his cell phone, placed a call.

"Not a thing!" The tall heavyset man yelled into the phone. "She died before telling us anything." He waited as the voice on the other end exploded obscenities. "Of course she's dead. Get real, you knew I couldn't let her live after that."

Silence. Then the shouting on the other end of the phone continued. This seemed to make the big man happy. He rolled his eyes at his slim companion and gestured with his finger toward the phone.

"There was another person in the house. We had to get rid of him,too." The information provoked loud cursing. The response made the big man's eyes wild as an eruption of pleasure filled his body. Tossing his cigarette out the window, he continued listening to the litany of obscenities drifting from the phone. Shifting the gear into drive and spinning the wheels of the car, he rapidly sped through the arch of the once peaceful Wright ranch.

"Now, you listen to me. Don't sound so fuckin' pissed off!" The heavyset man's voice hardened. "This ain't the first time I killed, and you sure as hell know it. You're as guilty as I am of each of them."