The Night Traveller A novel

Carl Baxter is a detective who is hunting The Night Traveller, a killer who stalks America's highways.

When he struggles to find him, he uses unorthodox techniques to catch him.


1. The Night Traveller-Part One



Fall, 1986

The Night Traveller headed towards Omaha, Nebraska. He was on a mission of death. He glanced at the highway; he drove at night time because he wanted to be free of the police interfering in his crimes. By nine o'clock in the late evening, he took a right that led to ​Davies' Gas Station​. He drove to the pump station, and poured the gas into his car. Once he was finished, he put the pump back into the deep socket. Then he paid for the gas. He walked through the open doors...opened the driver's-side door, put his seat belt on, closed the door, and drove away quickly. 


The Night Traveller yawned.

He had been on the dusty road for ten hours. He reached the sign that read: Welcome to Omaha, Nebraska. 5 miles. He saw the sign that read: Grave's Motel. ​He took off his seat belt, then he opened the door. He got out of his blue 1982 Mazda. The cold weather caused him to shiver. By nine-thirty, there were at least ten other cars parked nearby. He opened the front door, and went inside. A young woman in her late twenties smiled at him. "Can I help you, Sir?", she asked him. "Yes, I'd like a room for the night, please", he answered her. "Eighty dollars, plus tax. Room 156 is available". The Night Traveller took out his black wallet. He took out four twenty dollar bills; he didn't use his credit card. He grinned at her. "I've been driving for a long time. I'm tired". The woman nodded. "We get a lot of travellers here in Omaha; we get a lot of truck drivers, too". The Night Traveller nodded. "I drive all across America. It's a thrilling adventure to go from city to city. I'm John Harding". The woman smiled. "Nancy Anderson". She grabbed the keys off the wall, then she rang a bell. A Spanish porter arrived. "Please take Mister Harding's luggage to Room 156". The middle-aged porter nodded. The Night Traveller followed the man upstairs. "Go in here, Sir", he said in English. "Thank you". And he flicked on the bright light, and placed his luggage on the bed that was in the middle of the spacious room. He closed the door, then got dressed in his red pyjamas. By ten o'clock, he brushed his teeth in the small bathroom to the far left. Then he flicked the light off, and yawned again. He then slept for the next eight hours in silence.


The next morning, at 7:00 AM, on Tuesday, the Night Traveller awoke. He walked towards the bathroom. He closed the door, and closed it. At 7:05 AM, he washed his hands in the white sink. Then he turned off the faucets. He opened the door, grabbed his door key in his hands, and closed it. He saw several couples smiling at him. Then he walked downstairs, and headed to the Dining Room for breakfast. Nancy Anderson, who was at the desk, sipped her warm coffee. "Hello, John. How're you doing?", she asked him. "I'm fine, Nancy. I slept well", he answered. He walked to Table number 6, and sat down at his chair. A waitress walked towards him. "What do you like to have, Sir?", she asked him. "Mushrooms on toast, and a coffee", he said. She wrote the order down. He left the table, and saw Nancy. "I'd like another night at the Motel". He paid her another eighty dollars. "If you have any other questions, John, let me know", she said. He smiled. By 7:15 AM, he reached the table, and sat down on the chair again. This time he was relaxed. By 7:35 AM, his coffee and breakfast was served. "Thank you", he said. The waitress smiled. "Is there anything else, Sir?", she asked him. "No". He grabbed a knife and fork in his hands; he then ate quietly, as he sipped his warm coffee.


By eight o'clock AM, the Night Traveller finished his breakfast. He had a full stomach. He walked towards the front door, and went outside in the early Fall morning.


Sharon Deane Masters glanced at the red 1981 Porsche. "Ed, did you buy it? It would've cost a lot of money. Like, over fifty thousand dollars", she said. Ed Byers, her boyfriend, smiled. "One hundred thousand to be exact", he answered her. "Can we go to ​Burl's Roadhouse ​for lunch?", she asked. "Sure, honey", Ed answered her. She kissed him, as she was prepared for the day ahead.


The Night Traveller scoped out the area of Omaha, Nebraska. He looked at the map of Charlottesville, North Carolina; he pressed his large finger at the middle of the map and smiled. "I'll go there", he said. He walked inside the Motel, and planned his next murder.


It wasn't supposed to be perfect. 

Ed grinned at Sharon.

"My parents worry about me", he told her.

"Dad and Mom always worry", Sharon said.

"They shouldn't be", Ed said.

Suddenly they saw a figure watching them.

"Ed!", Sharon yelled.

And, seconds later, the sound of heavy gunfire destroyed the eerie silent afternoon.


Omaha, Nebraska Homicide Detective Cal Baxter stared at the dead bodies of Sharon Deane Masters, and Ed Byers. Coroner Debra James shook her head. "It's a terrible situation, Cal. Innocent people who're dead by some unknown killer. The area is cordoned off since it's a crime scene". He nodded. Cal, who was a cop back in the winter of 1977, had graduated to being a Detective in 1985. "It seems the young couple were planning a romantic get away when the killer struck", Cal said. He heard the wailing sirens, as four police officers arrived on the scene, by 1:00 PM.

Page 1.



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