Cast of Characters:

Cody Schroder - main character of the book

Astatula Assassin - deranged madman terrorizing the small town

Tori Landa - victim of the Astatula Assassin

Bill Miller - Principal of Astatula Elementary School

Elaine - deceased wife of the Astatula Assassin


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End of Chapter Two:


Meteorically, Cody departed the media center. He whistled a tune to himself as he dashed merrily along his way. He rounded the far corner of a long corridor, where he almost bumped headlong into Mr. Miller, the school's strict principal.

"Clear the tracks. Freight train coming through!" Mr. Miller quipped.

Transfixed, Cody halted.


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The Head of the Food and Drug Administration, dieticians, and all other associated health food aficionados would disapprove of the consumption of what slowly sizzled on the white-hot grill. Seasoned with salt, pepper, and a selected variety of preferred spices, the delicacy was a different kind of snap, crackle, and pop. A slight puff of smoke rose in the air as the Astatula Assassin flipped the long pork over. For a change of pace, the connoisseur dashed a smathering of paprika on the hallux. Soon, he'd feast.

The feet may not be gourmet, but the Assassin treasured their texture and taste. In happier times, these feet waltzed to Strauss's "On The Beautiful Blue Danube". They also strolled the sandy beach at Galveston while seagulls mewed and clear blue sea waves crashed.

The meal was the cannibal's means of celebrating his victory over his latest victim, Tori Landa. Wrapped in foil, a baked potato was seated next to the ungulas. To this, he would add sour cream, butter, and bacon bits. An ear of corn roasted on its far side. A tossed salad chilled in the refrigerator inside his home. A fine Reginato Celestina sparkling rose wine capped his dining experience. The Astatula Assassin's freezer was filled to the brim with the results of his latest processing labors.

The Assassin doubted whether Tori Landa would even be missed by anybody she'd known. Her kind usually weren't, especially any time soon. She was nothing more than a teenaged runaway he'd picked up hitchhiking outside of Laredo. He recalled the look of terror across the girl's face when he stopped his pickup truck and produced the knife he fileted her alive with. In his twisted mind, some pictures are worth a thousand words.

With eyes that wouldn't stop crying, Tori'd sniveled like a little whipped pup. The Assassin may have allowed her a more dignified death, but decided she didn't deserve one. And, if Tori hadn't spurned his advances she may have lived a while longer. The Assassin could not tolerate those kinds of reactions in his victims. They were no more than acts that sealed her doom and brought a joyous smile to the Assassin's face.

No one suspected him capable of such bizarre cruelties. After all, he was a pillar of society and one of Astatula's upstanding civic leaders. A memory from several years before haunted him. Once, one of the nicest men in the small town, he'd travelled to Laredo for a convention only to have his wife take sick while he was gone. Friends attempted to relay him a message, but he was on his way back to Astatula and the message never got delivered.

As he drove back into town, he saw a burying party in the graveyard. Being the neighborly man that he was, he drove over to see who'd died. The grief-stricken people stopped the proceedings for they were burying his wife.

Now, the last question the Assassin always asked his victims before he slaughtered them was, "Do you think Elaine might have lived if I'd gotten back sooner?"

To this bizarre question, each of them replied, "No, you couldn't have done a thing."

Their response infuriated the Assassin who did not believe them. In turn, their fallacy made butchering the sacrificed easier.

Not even good ole Bill Miller, the principal of Astatula Elementary School, who dressed down unruly pupils, knew the truth. Oh, but, Bill Miller was in the Assassin's vaunted crosshairs. Miller could bet on that. Two decades earlier, the Assassin had been in the same position of whatever unfortunate student stood there and felt the administrator's wrath. In his mind, he could see the whole scene play out. That was all the reason the Assassin needed to plot revenge against the educator.

Obviously displeased by Cody's careless actions, Mr. Miller reminded him, "Young man, you are well aware there is to be no running in the hallways. Have you not been reminded of this rule several times before? And yet, and yet, you still perform the forbidden manipulation."

Cantankerous as he sometimes desired to be, Cody replied with a simple, "Yes, I have, Mr. Miller."

He wasn't deliberately being defiant. All Cody wanted was out of the building, not to be detained by the school's esteemed gestapo.

The principal's message came across loud and clear, "On two previous occasions I can recall in the short period of time you have graced us with your presence here at Astatula Elementary, you have reported to my office for breaking the established procedures of this fine institution. Therefore, Cody, is a third application of Big Bertha required to get the message through your mule thick, stubborn, blond head?"

"Tete de mule?" Cody whispered under his breath.

Mr. Miller did not realize Cody spoke a little bit of French. The boy tried not to laugh out loud. He knew the disrespect would increase his delicate situation with the principal. Cody also knew Big Bertha was sixteen inches long, made of ash, and employed in the hands of skilled artisan like Mr. Miller, the lady packed a wallop.

Quickly, he changed his tune, recomposed himself, and responded, "No sir, Mr. Miller."

The principal replied, "Then, this is the very last warning you will receive in this regard. From now on see to it that you walk slowly in the halls of my school. You will not be told again!"

Cody appreciated the fact Mr. Miller was a man of his word.

"Will do," he promised the principal.

After the confrontation concluded, Cody walked away...until he disappeared from Mr. Miller's line of vision. Once outside in the bright sunlight, he snatched his blue BMX Mongoose off the bike rack and mounted the two-wheeler. With his report card stuffed into the right hip pocket of his jeans, Cody eagerly anticipated the newfound freedom Summer brought. He would never forget the way his elementary school days ended.