The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 42

After leaving Fulton County, he stopped at Peck Lake, and driving deep into the woods, gave the car a thorough beating. Using a hammer, he dented the side panels and tapped small dents into the hood. By the time he was finished, the used car appeared to have been through a minor war. No one would suspect such a vehicle of being complicit in two separate murders by association with its owner. Standing back, he took in what he had created. It was almost a work of art, and while it was ready for the road, he decided to give himself a bit more time. He needed to get organized and consider how he would proceed. Where would he go, and how would he evade those searching for him while continuing to satisfy his new craving?

On his way to Peck Lake, he stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank. After paying for the gas, he wandered the small store and found several maps of different areas of upstate New York. He bought a copy of each, not knowing which direction he would be traveling. Before leaving, he also bought some food. Caspian stayed away from anything perishable as he knew that anything that went bad would leave him short on food. He hoped that after leaving Peck Lake he might find a camping store where he could find supplies—a small tent, a sleeping bag, and cooking supplies. For now, he was forced to sleep in his car and wash in the lake. He saw no need to live like an animal, and as long as he had the basics, he felt comfortable living on the road or any wooded place where he would have ample cover.

Nights were surprisingly cold in the woods of Peck Lake, and while a large fire would heat the car by warming the side panels, a fire that large might attract attention. Water would be obtained from the lake and boiled in a pot he found nearby. He wanted to avoid dehydration but at the same time thought it was a bad idea to drink unprocessed water. Deciding to conserve both firewood and time, Caspian chose to start a fire but keep its size as small as possible. It wouldn’t heat the car, but sitting close enough might provide enough heat to prevent him from dying of exposure. The matter of warmth could be dealt with soon enough, but for now, Caspian decided to stay put, getting more food as he needed it. If he saw any signs of police presence, he would find a road circling the lake and exit from the other side. Preparing for what he hoped would never happen, he studied the maps he had purchased and found two roads leading out onto the main roads. If he had to, he would take one of the two. By this time, if he had enough camping gear, he could easily pass himself off as just another camper traveling north to the Adirondacks. It seemed like the perfect plan. The only thing that could stand in his way was if Reuben began talking to the authorities about his behavior, making him a prime suspect. If this became the case, Caspian would have to drive into the Adirondacks as quickly as possible, finding a place to camp as deep in sixteen million acres as possible. He would know if Reuben had been talking to them if he saw police cars roaming the area.

Two days later Caspian wandered out to the road and, searching up and down the pavement, was surprised to see nothing—no police cars, no civilian cars, nothing. While he was relieved at the silence around him, it also bothered him. Where was everyone? He walked back to the small office building looking for any signs of human presence and, finding none, quickly retreated back to what he hoped was his place of safety, the place where he believed he was invisible from everyone. He suddenly remembered that the lake office was not open because summer had not yet arrived. It was still May, and most people begin venturing into the outdoors in June, with the middle of August being the end of the season. After that it was time for school, but Caspian planned on being far away by then.