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Current address.

Phone number history.

Email addresses.

Relatives; and all their information is also accessible in the same way.

Criminal history is always behind a paywall, but that’s why the court’s public website is helpful. Plus, with someone’s full information, I can look up any public arrest records. I can’t risk signing up for an account and paying to access any information. I already had to have Mason talk me through how to block my IP address when I first started using this.

I have a specific target in mind. Unfortunately, I’m in a bit of a rush here otherwise I’d spend a day to follow him for a bit; just to see his patterns. But I need to have this handled tonight…because I already know who my next target is after this one, and I need that one gone before Mason comes to town.

I have to be careful.

To cover my tracks and to keep police from figuring out who I’m killing next, it’s required me to track a rotation I’ve made up. It would be virtually impossible for someone to crack it. It was random to begin with and only has a little bit of structure. Just enough so that I can follow it without fucking up. I sometimes have specific kills I plan, but they have to land in my rotation, otherwise they have to wait. In the meantime, I do these searches to find someone suitable for my rotation who deserves to be in it.

And I’ve found my target for the night that fits.

“Samuel Green,” I repeat out loud to myself, as I squint at the computer screen. Two counts of sexual misconduct with a minor. One count of aggravated sexual battery. And…guess where he is?

He lives just a block from a supermarket, only a town over from here, and he even has a job at a music store downtown. He gets to live his life normally…as if he didn’t assault anyone? As if he didn’t ruin someone else’s life? As if he isn’t some sick pervert and danger to everyone around him? As if he deserves to be a member of fucking society? To draw breath? The judge let him accept a plea deal, and the cunt served only one year out of his three-year sentence.

One.

This is why I do what I do.

The justice system lives to serve the evil and strip every fucking right away from the victim. Can you even call it the justice system? Because I’ve yet to see it work.

I served time in the army because I was able to. I have always believed in fighting for my country, even if I didn’t want to accept that most of it defends and allows even worse than what people like Samuel Green do. Maybe it meant defending them, but most of all I wanted to protect the people who needed it. Do the hard shit.

I’ve grown up with the same phrase on repeat in my mind: If not me, then who?

My father was a tough son of a bitch, and he raised me to be like him. Take shit from no one, protect women, and live an honest life. He isn’t around anymore, but I think he’d be proud of the way I’ve tried to redeem myself. He’d never have forgiven me for what happened to Mel and Sadie. He would’ve blamed himself worse than me, even…so it’s for the better that he didn't have to be around to know what happened to them.

But I live with it.

Every day, it repeats in my head, in those moments where the air is too still and the city traffic dulls for a little too long, the silence blaring in my ear.

All I can see when I close my eyes is Sadie running into my arms.

“Uncle Candy Kane!” I sweep her into my arms, holding her in a tight hug as her small arms go around my neck and she kisses my cheek. “I missed you!”

I chuckle and look over to see my sister. Her dark hair is cut shorter now, and I can see her tired face. She puts on a smile for me though, and I hold Sadie in one arm as I put my other one around Mel and pull her in.

That was the last time they visited me in Georgia at my base. Right before everything went to absolute shit.

I can’t keep thinking about this. I have to get ready.

I force myself off the desk chair and move to get dressed. Once I finish and tie up my boots, I sigh as I grab my small pack of gear.

“Be a good boy, I’ll be back soon,” I tell Bacon before turning and heading toward the door.

The windshield wipers drag slowly across the glass of my windshield. The rain isn’t relenting anytime soon. The roads are mostly empty at this hour, just the occasional flash of headlights passing me in the opposite direction.

Good.

I keep one hand on the wheel as I drive, looking around at the dark of the night that surrounds my truck as I try to find some sort of distraction. I turn up the dial on my radio just enough to drown out my thoughts.

I won’t think about Sadie.