Brush Creek Charlie by D. B. Reynolds (best free e book reader .TXT) đź“•
Excerpt from the book:
Charles “Charlie The Machete” Rastelli is a shellshocked Vietnam War veteran who lives with serious post traumatic stress disorder. Charlie’s self-esteem is shattered by the fact that he suffered from genital mutilation from ammunition crossfire while serving in Vietnam. His life has spiraled far out of control. An engineering marvel known as Brush Creek is where he has always found his piece of solitude.
Brush Creek is an east to west stretch of creek sewage, woods, wildlife, and concrete jogging trails. Failure to kill a certain woman becomes his pretext to building a murderous resume. Charlie lures women from prominent working class to prostitutes and drug addicts to his apartment. Strangulation is his method of murder. A Full Tang Monster Machete is his method of mutilation. His victim’s bodies are transported in trashbags and dumped in Brush Creek.
Members of an all-women support group are determined to put an end to the killing cycle fueled by Charlie. These diligent women consolidate resources and power with law enforcement to try and make sure that more bodies won’t surface anymore in Brush Creek. Will Charlie meet up with the specter of death when he decides to go too far? It’s a serious race against time to end a psychopath’s homicidal escapades.
Brush Creek is an east to west stretch of creek sewage, woods, wildlife, and concrete jogging trails. Failure to kill a certain woman becomes his pretext to building a murderous resume. Charlie lures women from prominent working class to prostitutes and drug addicts to his apartment. Strangulation is his method of murder. A Full Tang Monster Machete is his method of mutilation. His victim’s bodies are transported in trashbags and dumped in Brush Creek.
Members of an all-women support group are determined to put an end to the killing cycle fueled by Charlie. These diligent women consolidate resources and power with law enforcement to try and make sure that more bodies won’t surface anymore in Brush Creek. Will Charlie meet up with the specter of death when he decides to go too far? It’s a serious race against time to end a psychopath’s homicidal escapades.
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- Author: D. B. Reynolds
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“This tunnel is starting to creep me out.”
“Keep your ears and eyes open.”
“Didn’t Sandy hit him with a round from her pistol?”
“She did.”
“There’s no blood nowhere around.”
Everyone were only a few yards away from meeting up. Was Charlie good enough to avoid detection? The answer was yes. Buried under thick mud, sewage, rocks, and tree debris was Charlie. Overstreet and Carey put the floodlights right down on the four slain canines. The coats of the German Shepards were punctured with angry rounds of ammunition. Right when the parties met up, Charlie sprung up out of the layers of debris which camouflaged him so well.
“Jerry, look out!” Carey warned his superior.
Charlie discharged a series of rounds from the M-60. Full metal jackets went flying all around the tunnel. The opposition returned fire. Their aims were accurate enough to keep from hitting one another. One of the S.W.A.T. members took a round to the lower leg, while another one took one to the upper thigh. Wisely, everyone wore bullet proof vests.
“War has no beginning, and it has no ending!” Charlie shouted from his pair of weakening lungs.
Literally, he shot his way out of the tunnel. This time, no one got hit by his ammunition. Overstreet and Carey returned fire as they watched Charlie dash out of the tunnel and towards Satchel Paige Stadium. One of the Air Support Divisions spotted him directly on sight.
“Can you respond?” asked the operator of the chopper.
“Go ahead,” Overstreet approved, talking eagerly into the walkie talkie.
He pointed his weapon with hopes of emptying a slug or two into the psycho. The sonofabitch caused them more anguish than they’d anticipated.
“Subject is running through the woods behind the Deerpark Apartments.”
“Is the rifle still in his hands?”
“Yes it is.”
“Keep the light on him. We’re only a few yards away.”
“Ten-four.”
Overstreet and Carey and others raced through the short length of woods behind Deerpark Apartments. Deers and raccoons and possums were disturbed and emptied out of their inner sanctums. Neighbors from nearby streets were awaken. Chasing after Charlie was a gala spectacle. If they wanted entertainment, they got an overdose of it.
“Can you respond?” Overstreet inquired to the operator of the OH-58C Aircraft.
“Yes, I’m clear.”
“Where is the subject now?”
“Heading straight for one of the tunnels in the middle of the woods.”
“Keep your light shining down at the beginning of the tunnel.”
“Ten-four.”
All parties spotted Charlie squeezing his body into the dark tunnel. Overstreet and Carey and the others did their homework. They’d been briefed on the ins and outs of the hole he crawled into. There was only one way in and one way out. The other airborne officer swept across the sky and right over to the opposite end of the tunnel on The Country Club Plaza. Both choppers were positioned at the openings. No way was the KCPD going to bring out anymore canine units. Hell, Charlie majored in killing them.
Overstreet and Carey pushed the floodlights into the beginning of the tunnel and saw nothing but wet concrete. The pair of detectives might’ve underestimated Charlie.
“This shellshocked shithead getting away from us shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Carey explained to Overstreet.
“Spending time maneuvering his way through jungles only got him ready for this kinda cat-n-mouse game.”
“Vietnam prepared him for this.”
“Which is like child’s play to him.”
“Charlie crawled through trenches and holes in Vietnam. Why couldn’t he crawl through tunnels filled with sewage and rats?”
“Remember when we searched his apartment? Remember when we saw all those posters and maps of Brush Creek? This demonic dickhead spent most of his life casing out this creek. He knows this place better than the people who built it.”
“Yeah, a lifetime of coming down here will make you an expert.”
“An obsessed sicko are a better choice of words.”
“Halfway through, I’ll bet he’s at that point.”
“This tunnel stretches for at least a couple’a miles.”
“Or more.”
“To your knowledge, are there any connecting tunnels?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Either we catch this maniac tonight, or more bodies are gonna turn up down here in Brush Creek. In all my years of doing detective work, I’ve never dealt with a sonofabitch who headached my head like him.”
“My service with the KCPD, Jerry, doesn’t compare to your’s. Dealing with Charlie has turned into our worse nightmare. How’re we gonna get him the hell out of this tunnel?”
“Only one way I can think of.”
“Which is?”
Overstreet turned his attention towards Captain Marshall Faron, the leader of the well-trained S.W.A.T. team. “Captain, where do we go from here?”
“Well, Lieutenant, the only alternative I can think of is to try and gas him out of there.”
“You think tear gas might cause him to surrender?”
“We all know what happens to canines when they cross paths with his bastard. Tear gas is our last resort.”
“Alright, let’s go with that plan.”
Captain Faron dispatched the other S.W.A.T. members over in The Plaza vicinity. They were ordered to simultaneously fire tear gas canisters with propellers into the tunnel from their end. The captain placed his weapon a few inches inside the tunnel and fired a high velocity tear gas projectile into a patch of darkness. Each canister contained 130 grams of powerful gas and exploded upon impact. The once dark and wet tunnel became clouded with smoke. The large sewer rats were heard screeching and squealing.
Clearing them out might’ve done the city a favor. Captain Faron and the others weren’t satisfied. He fired another canister inside the tunnel, ordering his men from the other end to do the same. The propellers accelerated the canisters many yards. Would the gas force Charlie out of the tunnel? Overstreet believed Charlie could’ve been trained to evade the damaging effects of the gas. He waited along with the others to see if their prey would finally surrender. Minutes had passed and nothing happened.
“Hey Cap, you think the gas reached him?” Overstreet questioned Captain Faron, growing more impatient by the minute.
“Can’t tell right now. We don’t know how far the gas traveled into the tunnel.”
“Doesn’t it spread once it hits the surface?”
“It does.”
“Charlie was trained in Vietnam to deal with all kinds of gases, both poisonous and non-poisonous.”
“But not without a gas mask.”
“Though the tunnel’s a mile and some change, is it possible it’ll spread from one end to the next?”
“With myself and my men firing from both ends, I’d say that it’s very possible. We’ve fired on crowds stretching for many city blocks, and the gas was able to disperse people for over a mile radius.”
“Right now, we can only hope for the best.”
Deep within the dark confines of the Brush Creek tunnel, Charlie was determined to not surrender. Overstreet and the others were correct. He wasn’t going down without a fight. Gases and chemical pesticides were no match for him in Vietnam. The true test for Charlie came at the most inopportune time. From the mid-point of the smoky tunnel, he felt burning sensations all over his face and arms. The concentration of the gas forced an uncontrollable shutting of his eyes.
Overstreet was given a modernized bullhorn to voice his opinions and concerns. He yelled straight into the tunnel. “Charlie, if you’re still in there, why don’t you just give yourself up!”
Seconds past and there was no response.
“Charlie, this is Lieutenant Jerry Overstreet with the KCPD,” Overstreet announced to the wanted suspect. “You’re surrounded and there’s nowhere to go. Just give it up, Charlie.”
More seconds passed. No response came from inside the tunnel.
“Let’s make this easy on all of us. Come out of there so we can compromise like civilized people.”
A crackled, angry voice echoed off the concrete corridors of the tunnel. “War has no fucking beginning, and it has no fucking ending!”
This indicated Charlie was very much alive. Police officers, detectives, and S.W.A.T. members had their weapons positioned to fire away.
“Charlie, don’t try and do nothing stupid. Both openings of these tunnels are surrounded with the best in law enforcement. Surrender now and you might live.”
The muzzled voice of Charlie fired back. “Whether I give myself up, or whether I shoot it out with you guys, either way, I’m a dead man.”
Given his choice, Overstreet would’ve rather taken him alive. “That’s not true. We have no intentions of killing you, not unless you wanna go out forcefully.”
“You goddamned liar!”
“No, it’s the truth, Charlie.”
“I was born in the daytime, sir, not born on yesterday.”
“You’ve got no other choice, Charlie.”
Things got quiet for a minute or so. The tear gas took on a greater effect. Charlie coughed and coughed until mucous thick enough to plaster up a billboard shot out of his mouth and nostrils. The lining of his nose and throat felt like a flaming torch. His body took on a sense of disorientation. Extreme dizziness were seen through his eyes.
Worst of all, he experienced restricted breathing.
“Charlie, you’ll die inside this tunnel. Come on out of there.”
Charlie placed the M-60 down on the wet floor of the tunnel. Using slow body movement, he crawled in the direction of Swope Parkway and Brush Creek Boulevard. Twenty minutes was enough time for him to crawl towards the opening of the tunnel. He sluggishly fell into a big puddle full of sewage water. Weapons of different sizes were drawn
“Keep your ears and eyes open.”
“Didn’t Sandy hit him with a round from her pistol?”
“She did.”
“There’s no blood nowhere around.”
Everyone were only a few yards away from meeting up. Was Charlie good enough to avoid detection? The answer was yes. Buried under thick mud, sewage, rocks, and tree debris was Charlie. Overstreet and Carey put the floodlights right down on the four slain canines. The coats of the German Shepards were punctured with angry rounds of ammunition. Right when the parties met up, Charlie sprung up out of the layers of debris which camouflaged him so well.
“Jerry, look out!” Carey warned his superior.
Charlie discharged a series of rounds from the M-60. Full metal jackets went flying all around the tunnel. The opposition returned fire. Their aims were accurate enough to keep from hitting one another. One of the S.W.A.T. members took a round to the lower leg, while another one took one to the upper thigh. Wisely, everyone wore bullet proof vests.
“War has no beginning, and it has no ending!” Charlie shouted from his pair of weakening lungs.
Literally, he shot his way out of the tunnel. This time, no one got hit by his ammunition. Overstreet and Carey returned fire as they watched Charlie dash out of the tunnel and towards Satchel Paige Stadium. One of the Air Support Divisions spotted him directly on sight.
“Can you respond?” asked the operator of the chopper.
“Go ahead,” Overstreet approved, talking eagerly into the walkie talkie.
He pointed his weapon with hopes of emptying a slug or two into the psycho. The sonofabitch caused them more anguish than they’d anticipated.
“Subject is running through the woods behind the Deerpark Apartments.”
“Is the rifle still in his hands?”
“Yes it is.”
“Keep the light on him. We’re only a few yards away.”
“Ten-four.”
Overstreet and Carey and others raced through the short length of woods behind Deerpark Apartments. Deers and raccoons and possums were disturbed and emptied out of their inner sanctums. Neighbors from nearby streets were awaken. Chasing after Charlie was a gala spectacle. If they wanted entertainment, they got an overdose of it.
“Can you respond?” Overstreet inquired to the operator of the OH-58C Aircraft.
“Yes, I’m clear.”
“Where is the subject now?”
“Heading straight for one of the tunnels in the middle of the woods.”
“Keep your light shining down at the beginning of the tunnel.”
“Ten-four.”
All parties spotted Charlie squeezing his body into the dark tunnel. Overstreet and Carey and the others did their homework. They’d been briefed on the ins and outs of the hole he crawled into. There was only one way in and one way out. The other airborne officer swept across the sky and right over to the opposite end of the tunnel on The Country Club Plaza. Both choppers were positioned at the openings. No way was the KCPD going to bring out anymore canine units. Hell, Charlie majored in killing them.
Overstreet and Carey pushed the floodlights into the beginning of the tunnel and saw nothing but wet concrete. The pair of detectives might’ve underestimated Charlie.
“This shellshocked shithead getting away from us shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Carey explained to Overstreet.
“Spending time maneuvering his way through jungles only got him ready for this kinda cat-n-mouse game.”
“Vietnam prepared him for this.”
“Which is like child’s play to him.”
“Charlie crawled through trenches and holes in Vietnam. Why couldn’t he crawl through tunnels filled with sewage and rats?”
“Remember when we searched his apartment? Remember when we saw all those posters and maps of Brush Creek? This demonic dickhead spent most of his life casing out this creek. He knows this place better than the people who built it.”
“Yeah, a lifetime of coming down here will make you an expert.”
“An obsessed sicko are a better choice of words.”
“Halfway through, I’ll bet he’s at that point.”
“This tunnel stretches for at least a couple’a miles.”
“Or more.”
“To your knowledge, are there any connecting tunnels?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Either we catch this maniac tonight, or more bodies are gonna turn up down here in Brush Creek. In all my years of doing detective work, I’ve never dealt with a sonofabitch who headached my head like him.”
“My service with the KCPD, Jerry, doesn’t compare to your’s. Dealing with Charlie has turned into our worse nightmare. How’re we gonna get him the hell out of this tunnel?”
“Only one way I can think of.”
“Which is?”
Overstreet turned his attention towards Captain Marshall Faron, the leader of the well-trained S.W.A.T. team. “Captain, where do we go from here?”
“Well, Lieutenant, the only alternative I can think of is to try and gas him out of there.”
“You think tear gas might cause him to surrender?”
“We all know what happens to canines when they cross paths with his bastard. Tear gas is our last resort.”
“Alright, let’s go with that plan.”
Captain Faron dispatched the other S.W.A.T. members over in The Plaza vicinity. They were ordered to simultaneously fire tear gas canisters with propellers into the tunnel from their end. The captain placed his weapon a few inches inside the tunnel and fired a high velocity tear gas projectile into a patch of darkness. Each canister contained 130 grams of powerful gas and exploded upon impact. The once dark and wet tunnel became clouded with smoke. The large sewer rats were heard screeching and squealing.
Clearing them out might’ve done the city a favor. Captain Faron and the others weren’t satisfied. He fired another canister inside the tunnel, ordering his men from the other end to do the same. The propellers accelerated the canisters many yards. Would the gas force Charlie out of the tunnel? Overstreet believed Charlie could’ve been trained to evade the damaging effects of the gas. He waited along with the others to see if their prey would finally surrender. Minutes had passed and nothing happened.
“Hey Cap, you think the gas reached him?” Overstreet questioned Captain Faron, growing more impatient by the minute.
“Can’t tell right now. We don’t know how far the gas traveled into the tunnel.”
“Doesn’t it spread once it hits the surface?”
“It does.”
“Charlie was trained in Vietnam to deal with all kinds of gases, both poisonous and non-poisonous.”
“But not without a gas mask.”
“Though the tunnel’s a mile and some change, is it possible it’ll spread from one end to the next?”
“With myself and my men firing from both ends, I’d say that it’s very possible. We’ve fired on crowds stretching for many city blocks, and the gas was able to disperse people for over a mile radius.”
“Right now, we can only hope for the best.”
Deep within the dark confines of the Brush Creek tunnel, Charlie was determined to not surrender. Overstreet and the others were correct. He wasn’t going down without a fight. Gases and chemical pesticides were no match for him in Vietnam. The true test for Charlie came at the most inopportune time. From the mid-point of the smoky tunnel, he felt burning sensations all over his face and arms. The concentration of the gas forced an uncontrollable shutting of his eyes.
Overstreet was given a modernized bullhorn to voice his opinions and concerns. He yelled straight into the tunnel. “Charlie, if you’re still in there, why don’t you just give yourself up!”
Seconds past and there was no response.
“Charlie, this is Lieutenant Jerry Overstreet with the KCPD,” Overstreet announced to the wanted suspect. “You’re surrounded and there’s nowhere to go. Just give it up, Charlie.”
More seconds passed. No response came from inside the tunnel.
“Let’s make this easy on all of us. Come out of there so we can compromise like civilized people.”
A crackled, angry voice echoed off the concrete corridors of the tunnel. “War has no fucking beginning, and it has no fucking ending!”
This indicated Charlie was very much alive. Police officers, detectives, and S.W.A.T. members had their weapons positioned to fire away.
“Charlie, don’t try and do nothing stupid. Both openings of these tunnels are surrounded with the best in law enforcement. Surrender now and you might live.”
The muzzled voice of Charlie fired back. “Whether I give myself up, or whether I shoot it out with you guys, either way, I’m a dead man.”
Given his choice, Overstreet would’ve rather taken him alive. “That’s not true. We have no intentions of killing you, not unless you wanna go out forcefully.”
“You goddamned liar!”
“No, it’s the truth, Charlie.”
“I was born in the daytime, sir, not born on yesterday.”
“You’ve got no other choice, Charlie.”
Things got quiet for a minute or so. The tear gas took on a greater effect. Charlie coughed and coughed until mucous thick enough to plaster up a billboard shot out of his mouth and nostrils. The lining of his nose and throat felt like a flaming torch. His body took on a sense of disorientation. Extreme dizziness were seen through his eyes.
Worst of all, he experienced restricted breathing.
“Charlie, you’ll die inside this tunnel. Come on out of there.”
Charlie placed the M-60 down on the wet floor of the tunnel. Using slow body movement, he crawled in the direction of Swope Parkway and Brush Creek Boulevard. Twenty minutes was enough time for him to crawl towards the opening of the tunnel. He sluggishly fell into a big puddle full of sewage water. Weapons of different sizes were drawn
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