“Sheriff Bradshaw?”

Ted Bradshaw looked at the clock. “Doc Haberstaam? What time is it?”

“2:30am,” the archaeologist said. “Sheriff, listen. The muderer you’re looking for. I may know where he is.” Ted was instantly alert. “Meet me at the north end of Red Creek Road. Hurry! We don’t have much time!”

45 minutes later, he met up with Dr. Bertram Haberstaam. “You sure about this, Doc?” the sheriff asked.

“Positive! I’ve been doing some research. The way those four were killed is reminiscent of a cult thought gone eons before the foundations of the Tower of Babel were laid. Come on.”

They trekked through the forest for almost 1/2 hour. They came upon a clearing, filled with dozens of people dancing naked around a stone altar.

“My God, Doc! All these people murdered those kids?!”

“No, not directly. Their leader did the actual killing.”

“Is he down there?”

“No,” Haberstaam said. “He’s much closer.”

Bradshaw saw a flash of steel, felt pressure on his neck, and choked as his lungs filled with his own blood.