The Janitor's Girl

Many of you urged me to finish this story. I'm sorry it took so long but this was a hard one for me (no pun intended). It needed to bring Heather and Darnell's story to a conclusion and I wanted it to be interesting and exciting. If you're hoping for gratuitous sex scenes, you'll need to go elsewhere... though I did manage to add in a little something. You'll need to read it to see what I mean.

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The Janitor's Girl

Part 10

The Final Chapter

Heather paused, one hand on the hotel room door handle and car keys in her other hand. She'd been about to rush out without her purse or her cell phone, leaving her new husband snoring loudly, completely unaware of everything.

Taking a deep shaky breath, she dropped her hand form the door handle and quickly ran through her options. She didn't have a lot of time to waste.

Call the police... or the FBI? She had their cards in her purse. How long would it take them to react? What were the chances Banning would find out? What if he had somebody helping him and they saw the cops? She knew he didn't make empty threats.

What were the chances of things turning out well if she went at it alone? Who could she ask for help?

She didn't have the time to dwell too long on her options. She quickly made a decision.

She couldn't do this on her own.

She rushed to shake Darnell awake. He snorted and his tired bloodshot eyes immediately snapped open at her touch. Something was different. He sensed tension in the air.

"Get up and get dressed, Darnell," she said urgently. "We gotta go."

She told him about Banning's phone call as he dug into his bag and quickly pulled out some everyday clothes. Heather kicked off her high heels and slipped on a pair of black and white checkered Vans. She didn't want to take the time to change out of her wedding dress, the slit sides would allow her to move if she needed and she didn't care if she showed off a lot of leg. Maybe they'd serve as a distraction.

She grabbed up a scrunchie, put her long blonde hair into a pony tail and ran to the door. Darnell was right behind her with his heavy bunch of janitor's keys rattling in his pocket.

Nearly ten minutes had passed since Banning's call.

They fidgeted impatiently in the elevator and ran to Heather's car as soon as the doors hissed open.

Darnell huffed and puffed behind his wife, doing his best to keep up. Even with the threat to Dawn hovering over his head, he couldn't help but admire his wife's lovely body. They way her round, heart-shaped ass bounced and quivered under her tight off-white dress, her long muscular legs stretched out in long running strides, her shiny blond ponytail bouncing and bobbing and her slim arms pumping as she ran.

He still found it hard to believe the young beautiful blonde girl trotting ahead of him was his wife.

Heather peeled her little Prius out of the parking lot and tore off towards the school.

Darnell called Master Feng as she drove. He didn't pick up. The old man went to bed early.

He turned to his wife.

"Are you sure you don't want to call the FBI?" he asked yet again. "They handle this kind of thing all the time."

It was late enough at night that she didn't have to contend with heavy traffic.

Heather shook her head, her face twisted with fear and a desperate urgency, her eyes never leaving the headlight-washed road ahead.

Darnell looked down at her long shapely legs as she drove. Her off-white dress was hiked up high revealing her white panties, their crotch still damp with his cum.

She screeched to a stop in the alley where Darnell had rescued her.

Darnell had taken the chemistry lab key from the wide ring as she drove and handed it to her before she hopped out of the car then he ran with her to unlock the double doors.

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FBI Special Agents Kenneth "Ken" Chilton and Moses "Mo" Sullivan sat in their unmarked government sedan dully watching the high school's back entrance when a pair of bright headlights suddenly turned towards the building. Their car was nestled in the shadows out of view beside a dumpster and a large broad-leafed oak tree.

They saw a white Toyota Prius, the one belonging to the gorgeous blonde high school girl who'd fought and beaten Banning and his followers, tear around the corner and come to a screeching halt at the school's rear entrance. They watched as the girl and the old fat black janitor hopped out of the car, urgently ran to the door and then girl disappeared into the building alone.

They called it in as soon as they saw who it was and described the fear and urgency in their manner to the SSA, or supervisory special agent in charge.

"I think Banning got to them. Follow them and don't let them see you," said the SSA. "I'll deploy the rest of the team as soon as you have a location."

"And Mo," the SSA said.

"Yeah, boss?" Mo said.

"You and Ken keep your head on a swivel," he said. "I have a feeling these two are gonna lead us straight to Banning."

"Roger, boss," Mo said and hung up.

They watched as the girl ran out of the building minutes later, jumped in her car and tore off in a hurry.

They followed discreetly, keeping their headlights off until they were a safe distance behind.

They called it in the minute they saw the car was headed for the girl's house.

They'd been lucky. The ASAC, or assistant special agent in charge, had taken away surveillance from everywhere but the school, alluding to the station's limited budget after so many days without any leads or results of any kind.

This might be it. If Banning was at the girl's house, he might be holding the mother.

Mo had a feeling this was going to be a hostage situation.

What was this all about? What did the girl have that he needed?

He called the boss and told him his suspicion.

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~Banning~

Banning paced in front of Dawn's couch, impatiently looking around at the expensive furniture in distaste.

*Fuckin' rich people,* he thought.

He walked to the wide window overlooking the front of the house and peeked through the drawn blinds wondering if he'd given the girl enough time.

It'd been about 40 minutes since he'd called the nigger-loving bitch.

No headlights, no suspicious-looking cars parked on the street. Everything was quiet. Not a thing was out of place.

He didn't like it. He felt a strange premonition deep down in his guts. Something was out of place. He just couldn't tell what it was.

He let the blinds fall back into place with a ching and resumed his pacing.

Hunter guarded the back door and Ryan was upstairs keeping an eye on the girl's mother.

Banning saw the way the nasty meth-head looked at the mature blonde woman. He left him to it. He didn't give a shit what he did to her. She didn't matter. All that mattered was getting his phone back and then he'd disappear to continue his mission someplace else... and of course killing the nigger and his white whore... and anyone else who knew he'd been here.

He paused in his pacing and looked up when he heard a series of bumps from upstairs.

Looks like Ryan's getting busy. Fuck it. Let him get his rocks off, he didn't plan on letting her live anyways, he needed her alive for a little while longer. Neither she nor her nasty kid or the fat nigger would live to see another day. He'd make sure of that.

"Hunter. Hunter. Get your ass in here," he shouted, loud enough to be heard from the other side of the back door.

He heard the door open and footsteps approach then skinny Hunter stood before him, one of "Banning's Misfits" from last year's graduating class.

"Make sure you keep a good eye out and shout out if you see or hear anything unusual," he told him and waved for him to get back to his place.

He watched as the rail-thin young man shuffled away, muttering and picking at a bloody sore on his arm. Goddamn it, and this the best he could do.

He paced for a few minutes then went to check on him to make sure he was doing what he'd been told. Fuckin' meth-heads were unreliable.

As he crossed the threshold between the living room and the foyer, he noticed the kitchen light was off. He hurried to the kitchen and saw a short squat form at the door to the outside deck. Before he had time to think, he raised the gun and fired three quick shots.

BLAM, BLAM, BLAM!

FUCK! Why had he done that? The neighbors would call the police. It was all over.

He flipped on the light switch, expecting to see the short fat janitor bleeding on the ground but saw only a skinny white kid sprawled on the floor on his face. A pool of blood slowly spread out on the tiles beneath him.

Hunter.

FUCK!

He could've sworn he saw the fat old black man. The gun's muzzle flashes had shown Hunter's back, but no sign of the old man.

FUCK!

The only thing left to do before the cops got there was to kill the nigger-loving bitch upstairs and the last meth-head then cut his losses and run.

He heard a woman scream from the bedroom up above.

Whatever was left of her apparently.

He turned to make his way upstairs and saw a pair of bare shapely legs come gingerly down the stairs.

Banning saw it was the girl's mom. She was naked and about to rush to the door when he raised the gun and spoke.

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~Darnell~

Darnell and Heather quickly came up with a plan. They weren't really sure how good it was, but they needed to do something besides walk in and get killed. That's one thing on which they both agreed, Banning would kill them if he had the chance.

They were pretty sure he had somebody helping him, maybe more than one person.

They were early. Heather dropped him off on the block behind her house and then drove slowly to give him about five minutes.

Darnell had no idea what to expect. Neither he nor Heather had had the foresight to bring a weapon, not even a broomstick.

He got out of the car and walked between a pair of houses. A large dog several houses to his right barked excitedly and then calmed as if listening.

He made his way to Dawn's back yard where a six foot fence divided her property from her neighbor's. There was a shed nestled in the corner with an unlocked gate next to it.

He opened the gate and quietly stepped in the yard.

He hid behind the shed and peered at the back door which opened onto a wide low-fenced wooden deck. The light above the door was on and he could see a skinny form standing under its powerful light. It illuminated the immediate area but the area beyond the pool was hidden in darkness.

The shed was far enough away that it was gloomed in shadow.

"Hunter. Hunter. Get your ass in here," a voice he recognized as Banning's said from inside the house.

Hunter?

A scene from the TV show Breaking Bad popped suddenly into his head. Jesse tricked an addict called Hunter into digging in the yard while he made his way into the house.

He might as well give it a try. He had no other plan, no other way to get into the house without warning the others inside.

Darnell watched as the young man went into the house then stepped quickly into the shed, turned on the light, and taking a shovel hanging from a rack, turned the light back off.

He walked to the edge of the tiles lining the edge of the pool and the grassy yard and began to dig. His back turned to the back door.

He hoped only Hunter went back out and not Banning. He was taking a big chance.

Darnell heard the door open and close behind him. The sound of short hesitant steps got nearer and stopped not far behind him.

He kept digging.

"What are you doing?" Hunter asked.

"Digging," Darnell answered, using his foot to push the shovel deeper into the packed dirt.

"Why?"

"You know why," he said, dropping a big pile of black dirt and grass roots next to the slowly widening hole.

He stabbed the shovel into the dirt and stomped on the flat edge to push it deeper then scooped up the dark fragrant earth and dumped it on the mound he'd made next to the hole.

Hunter stood beside the slowly deepening hole, staring into its depths. He held a knife tightly in his left hand.

"How deep are you going?" Hunter asked curiously, the nails of his right hand picking at his arm, the other hand twitched against his leg, gripping the knife as if it were the shovel.

"I don't know. How deep do you think it is?" Darnell asked.

There was a long pause.

"Pretty deep," Hunter whispered, watching intently as Darnell tossed aside another shovel-full of dirt.

Huffing and puffing with the exertion, he kept digging and didn't say a word.

Breathing hard to catch his breath, Darnell finally paused and straightened. He put a hand at the small of his back and flexed his thick torso from side to side.

Turning to look into the skeletal young man's bloodshot eyes, he offered him the shovel.

"You mind taking over for a while?" Darnell gasped.

Hunter left off picking at the bloody sore on his arm, dropped the knife and took the offered shovel.

"Yeah, sure," he said quietly and began to dig.

The world around him seemed to disappear, including Darnell.

Darnell watched him for a few moments then picked up the knife and went to the house. The knife was a 12-inch chef's knife, more than three inches wide, tapering to a razor-sharp point. The handle felt comfortable in his pudgy hand and its weight was reassuring.

He glanced back and saw Hunter busily digging, dumping shovel-fulls of dirt onto the growing pile next to the hole. He could hear him huffing and puffing with exertion.

He opened the back door and stepped inside.

The kitchen lights were off. The only light came from the hallway to the left which led to the foyer at the front door.

Darnell quietly shut the door behind him, looked around and listened. Nothing was out of place. He heard footsteps from the living room. They sounded like pacing steps. He heard several bumps on the ceiling. Somebody was upstairs.

He stood there undecided, trying to figure out his next move when the pacing footsteps in the living room changed their cadence and started to come his way. He looked around in panic then heard Hunter's footsteps coming up the stairs to the deck.

He stood indecisive for a moment as the footsteps from the living room approached then he quickly turned off the back porch light and opened the door, hoping to push Hunter out of his way as he ran for cover.

Everything happened at once. The door opened and he stepped out as Hunter stepped in, right into the sharp chef's knife Darnell held before him.

The young man's eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed at the sudden pain. Darnell didn't pause, he spun the man around until he was between him and the light coming from the hallway then he heard the BLAM BLAM BLAM of three gunshots fired within a single second.

He heard a zip next to his head and felt the impact as two of the nine millimeter parabellum slugs slammed into Hunter's back. One round smashed a rib and bounced around inside the man's torso, shredding organs until it came to rest deep in one of his lungs. The other round shattered a bone in his lower spine, which deflected it and sent exiting from his side.

Hunter's body became instant dead weight and fell face first in the doorway. The wide knife slid smoothly out of the dead body as it fell.

Darnell slipped outside an instant before the lights came on.

A woman's piercing shriek suddenly pierced the night. It came from the house's second floor. It went on and on, getting louder and then fading away as she stopped to catch her breath then it picked up again, louder than ever. He dreaded what they were doing to Dawn to make her scream like that.

Knife in hand, Darnell rushed out onto the deck and trotted around the corner of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen through the kitchen window, expecting to hear Banning behind him. His body was tense, waiting for the gun to go off any second. He was old and fat, so it felt like it took him forever to get around the corner, but Banning didn't follow.

Wheezing, he stood hidden from view, hoping Banning hadn't seen him. His heart hammered in his chest in fear and excitement. He felt a stab of remorse and anguish at the knowledge he was responsible for Hunter's death. He'd stabbed him and then used him as a human shield. He was just a stupid kid, he thought guiltily.

He had to do something.

Just as he was about to head to the back door, he saw two men gliding from the direction of the shed. They held guns in their hands and wore FBI vests. One held a finger to his lips and waved him away.

He heard sirens in the distance. The cops were on their way and the FBI was already here.

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~Dawn~

Dawn woke from a deep sleep when a large smelly hand clamped tightly over her mouth.

She'd gone to bed not long after seeing her daughter off with her new husband. She'd been tired and distracted and forgot to set her alarm.

She struggled briefly but the ice-cold barrel of a gun pressing under her chin made her stop, drop her hands to her sides and lay still. She felt terror wash through her, freezing her to the marrow.

The room was dark. All she could see was the outline of a man hovering next to her.

"That's right, that's right," a man's voice whispered. "You stay nice and still."

She stared at the shadowed face with wide frightened eyes. Her breath hissed through her nose in quick panicked puffs and her body trembled uncontrollably.

The man flipped her on her belly and knelt on her back then she heard the zipping sticky sound of duct tape peeled from a roll. Her hands were taped behind her and she was manhandled to her feet.

The light came on suddenly and she was finally able to see the man clearly. He was average in every way. There wasn't a memorable thing about him. He was of average height and weight. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes. He could be anywhere from his late 20s to mid-40s.

He was nondescript, but his soulless eyes shone with fanaticism and purpose.

"Where's your phone?" he demanded.

She pointed to her nightstand with a trembling chin.

He picked it up, touched the screen and brought it to her face to unlock it.

The man pecked on the phone symbol, saw *Heather* and pressed to call.

He heard the girl's cheery voice on the other end of the line asking him to leave a message.

He hung up and looked at the blonde woman. Her beauty meant nothing, her fear meant nothing, and her humanity meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was his mission and getting his hands on his cell phone and killing the pests who'd ruined his plans.

"Why didn't she answer?" he asked coldly.

"Sh-sh-she's p-p-probably checking into the h-h-hotel," she stammered, after swallowing several times. "Th-th-they're spending the weekend a-a-away."

Banning grunted.

"Will she call back soon?" he asked.

Dawn nodded, her lower lip quivered in fear and dread. What was he going to do?

Banning forced her to sit on the bed and paced impatiently in front of her.

Minutes later her phone rang.

Banning touched the green phone icon and then the speakerphone symbol.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the nigger-lovin' little whore," he said malevolently. "Calling to see what mommy wants?"

They heard a gasp from the other end and then several seconds of silence.

"What have you done with my mother?"

The girl's voice was high and shaky.

Banning held the phone up, pointing it at Dawn.

She rushed to speak, hoping to convey a quick message.

"I'm okay, baby, he hasn't hurt me yet, but you can't trust..."

Banning drew back his arm as soon as she started talking and backhanded her to silence, sending her sprawling to the ground with a groan of pain. Lights flashed before her eyes and her cheekbone flamed with pain.