Hello, Little Sparrow by Jordan Jones (the reading list .TXT) 📕

someone else’s pain before. We didn’t know what to say. We just wanted the weed.”

I looked at Harlow. “What was he talking about?”

“Madison?” she asked. “They’re now connected. Does he think he’s feeling her pain?”

“Officers,” the shorter one said. “Are we good to leave now?”

“Yes,” I responded. “Just be extremely careful and count your blessings. You came face to face with a vicious serial killer.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

Joseph Shipport stood with one foot against the support beam of the porch and flicked ash from his cigarette into the puddle below him.

He stayed at Crenshaw Residencies and didn’t mind it much. It catered to those who were recently released from prison and had nowhere else to go, especially those with a background like Joseph’s.

He often thought of the girl whose life he ruined, though they were not thoughts of regret, but of revenge. He remembered her worried face on the witness stand as she pointed right at him.

That is him; she told the prosecutor. That’s the man who hurt me.

Of course there was no denying what he’d done to the poor girl; he had done so in broad daylight in the bathroom of a busy shopping center. The opportunity presented itself and he took advantage, although the security officers working at the Macy’s heard the commotion and stopped him.

The damage was already done, and he was sentenced to prison for nearly ten years. After serving six, he was released and given reprieve at Crenshaw Residencies where the owner was keen on giving men second chances. Little did Mr. Wellpock know that Joseph had perpetrated some of the most heinous crimes before several times…but was only caught once.

He smiled as he thought how sweet the revenge would be and flicked his cigarette once more. Footsteps crept from his right in the sloshy mud and stopped just out of view of the porch light.

His roommate Conner had left on a quick errand and had yet to return.

“You know…you just about missed curfew,” Joseph said into the darkness. “Wellpock will have you kicked out if you make it a habit.”

There was no answer, though the figure was standing upright and facing him.

“Go ahead and head inside,” he continued. “There’s extra meatloaf in the fridge. You better have that pack of smokes you owe me for that phone-time.”

Still no answer. He smiled again and nodded in his direction.

“You keep disrespecting me like this and I’ll do what they used to do in basic training when someone would act up; beat you with a sock full of soap while you’re trying to sleep.” Joseph lit another cigarette and cupped it with his hand.

The figure inched forward slowly just out of range of light.

Joseph held out his hand. “Give me the smokes…”

There was still no motion from the figure, so he walked towards him.

“Conner if you don’t — “

His eyes widened as he peered into unrecognizable eyes; eyes which were jet-black. He knew immediately it wasn’t Conner, as the blade that entered his abdomen pierced through his intestines.

The pain was indescribable, but he was unable to holler out in agony.

The figure leaned in and the light illuminated his face. He said, “Joseph Shipport…Marlene Westerkamp sends her regards.” Then, the figure turned the knife upwards and lifted with all his might as the life left Joseph’s body.

The mess on the ground didn’t affect Brooks one bit. It was messier, however, than what Conner’s body left in the front seat of the car. It sat idling in front of the house with the body of a forty-something out-of-shape man with his head down on the steering wheel.

Brooks had stabbed aimlessly at the man while the window was down.

The backdoor was still open, so Brooks stepped inside. The kitchen area looked dingy and dirty, with dishes piled up in the sink.

“The Sparrow has arrived,” he said under his breath. A stocky man stepped and leaned his head outside his doorway leading to the hallway.

“Keep it down,” said the man. “It’s about lockdown time.”

Brooks remembered the man from the picture. The city had taken down all access to the perpetrators online, but Brooks had saved their faced and memorized them for the past several months.

Titus Kerr assaulted a female correctional officer while at Riker’s Island in New York City. The added charge placed him on Brooks’ list.

His abrasive attitude towards a guest only made things easier.

“You cannot leave until they’re all dead,” Madison spoke from the doorway to the back porch. “They’re all the vilest humans this world has ever known.”

Brooks nodded and stepped in front of Titus’ door. He knocked softly against the hard wood and heard the commotion inside. Titus wasn’t happy to be receiving visitors so late and flung the door wide open.

“Who are —“

He knew he’d been stabbed and threw himself backwards, away from the assailant. Brooks ensued and swiped his knife around the room, spraying blood in all directions. Titus tried using a bookshelf to pick himself up, but Brooks didn’t let up, slicing indiscriminately at Titus’ face.

“There are more upstairs,” Madison pointed.

Brooks’ mind fell apart as he ascended the stairs. He was exhausted and covered in blood from head to toe, but felt no pain or emotion other than anger.

His mind was angry.

His body was angry.

He only saw red. He wanted the world to remember The Sparrow.

The upstairs occupants were changing their clothes getting ready for bed when Brooks pointed his gun at both of them, coaxing them to tie each other up.

“You’re Jack Reeves and Drew Moxen,” Brooks told them, holding up John Trotter’s Glock 19. Both men were shaking violently; Drew vomited on the floor. “Mr. Reeves, you were convicted of kidnapping twelve year old Mayci Backburn and held her for three days. Mr. Moxen, you