Still on Herring Cove Road by Michael Kroft

Still on Herring Cove Road by Michael Kroft

Author:Michael Kroft
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Jewish, Jew, family saga, friendship, coming of age, crime, murder, series, halifax, canada, nova scotia, heartwarming, Feel-good, christian, YA, Young Adult
Publisher: H & S Publishing
Published: 2014-11-08T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 9

Unadulterated Evil

Sunday evening was the week’s peak time for children playing outside. With the school week starting the next day and little on regular television to keep them in front of it, most joined their friends outside. That was the only problem with Sunday evenings: the children were together. It would be difficult to find one alone, and because of that, he normally didn’t bother ‘hunting’ on Sunday evenings.

Not wanting to give up on Spryfield too soon, over the last three weeks he had been familiarizing himself with the townhouses along Carson Street. He felt certain the place had potential. It was surrounded by a forest. Not the small patches of woods he had come to expect but a full forest. He just had to find the right place, which he expected was somewhere along the forest line surrounding the blocks of townhouses.

One evening while smoking behind the steering wheel of his car parked among the many other older, rusty models on the first street off of Carson Street, he was beginning to lose hope of finding an appropriate spot when he noticed a teenage boy coming out from a break between the townhouses. Several minutes later a younger child appeared and a few minutes after that, another. Curious and perhaps careless, he left the security of his car’s tinted windows to explore the area between the townhouses. There he found a well-worn path of dirt and rock and followed it almost to its end, where it sloped steeply down toward Herring Cove Road. He didn’t understand why it had never occurred to him before. A path could function as a selection line. All he had to do was wait for a single child to make its way along it, and if the child were suitable, he would just take him. It would never be any easier than that.

Excited by his revelation, he spent some time familiarizing himself with the woods on both sides of the path, and just before the setting sun would force him to leave, he would find what he considered the perfect killing spot.

·

That next Sunday evening, he waited just off the path hoping to find a child alone.

Wiping the perspiration from his brow, he dried his hands on his jacket before opening it fully. It was chilly but not chilly enough to cool his excitement. A breeze would’ve been appreciated, but the trees blocked any chance of that. Except for the repeated harsh clicking of a squirrel protesting against his presence, there wasn’t a bird chirping, no wind rustling the leaves and hardly a sound could be heard coming from the children yelling around the townhouses a few minutes walk away. And that meant from where he was, hardly a sound would be heard at the townhouses. That knowledge excited him further.

He needed to calm down.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he took out a pack of Export ‘A’ cigarettes. Placing one between his dry lips, he pulled out a book of matches, tore one off and swiped it against the book’s rough strip.



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