He was running naked through the woods. His heart was pounding, his lungs burned from a lack of oxygen, and his muscles ached from the overexertion. He was so consumed with terror that all rational thought had been thrust from his mind. Someone was chasing him, and all he knew was that he had to escape. His very life depended upon it.

There had been a severe storm the night before, and the forest floor upon which he ran was muddy and strewn with fallen tree limbs and other debris. He was so frantic with fear that he failed to see the huge fallen bough blocking his path, and the impact caused him to fall backward hitting the ground hard.

As he lay there struggling to catch his breath, he could hear his pursuer getting closer. His overwhelming terror gave him the impetus to attempt to get to his feet, but the muddy ground caused him to slip and fall forward toward the hanging limb that had halted his escape. As he fell, his right upper arm caught on a jagged section of the tree limb, ripping a huge laceration through skin and muscle all the way down to the bone.

The pain was excruciating. Instinctively he started to reach over with his left hand to check his wound, but he stopped when he encountered his large breasts. Breasts? He wasn't supposed to have breasts.

Suddenly he became aware of the presence of his pursuer looming over him. Looking up, he saw a large man with dirty blond hair and extremely pale skin. His nose looked liked it had been broken numerous times, and his lips were frozen in an evil smirk. There was a large scar on the left side of his face that extended from his cheekbone to his lower jaw. It was impossible to tell what color eyes the man had because they were covered by mirrored aviator-style sunglasses.

As he peered up at the man standing over him, he noticed that he could see his reflection in the man's lenses. Something was very wrong. The face he saw reflected back at him was not his own. It was the face of a woman, a beautiful woman with long red hair and blue eyes.

At that moment he noticed the large machete in his pursuer's left hand. The man raised his arm in preparation to strike, and he then heard himself pleading with him to spare his life. His pleas fell on deaf ears and the man brought the machete down.

The pain he experienced as the sharp metal blade sliced into his neck was more intense than any other he had ever felt in his entire life. He knew his life was over.

He could feel death approaching. As he slipped further and further into oblivion, he heard someone calling his name in the distance, pulling him away from the brink.

"Alex! Alex! Snap out of it!"

Alex Marshall suddenly found himself staring into the very worried eyes of his sister, Tamara. Blinking himself awake, he surveyed his surroundings and saw that he was at Secrets, his sister's hair salon. He slowly remembered that he was there to have his hair cut.

"Alex, are you okay?" Tamara asked, concern evident in her voice.

Before he had a chance to answer, Ariel, his sister's business partner and his best friend, came running up to them. "Here's that ammonia nitrate capsule from the first aid kit. One whiff of this should bring him around."

Seeing that he was already alert she reached out and grabbed his hand, griping it tight. "Alex, are you all right? You had your sister and me half out of our minds with worry," she said.

She continued in a teasing manner, "And you had that old, uptight, rich bitch, Mrs. Henderson so scared that the perm your sister just put in straightened, and the broomstick she keeps up her ass came flying out."

Alex grinned. Even when she was scared, Ariel still maintained her sense of humor. He and Ariel had been best friends ever since they met on their first day of kindergarten. However, their friendship had been fraught with controversy because Ariel was black.

You would think that in the nineteen eighty's a friendship between a white boy and a black girl wouldn't be a problem, but Single Tree, Texas, where they had grown up, was a small town filled with even smaller-minded rednecks who lived as if the Civil Rights movement had never taken place. Not everyone in Single Tree was a bigot, but there were enough of them to cause problems. Add on the fact that by the time they were in high school Alex was openly gay, and they were daily grist for the gossip mill. Thank God they now lived in McKinney, Texas, where the atmosphere was more open and receptive.

Alex squeezed her hand and replied, "I'm fine." Lowering his voice so that he couldn't be overheard, he continued, "It was just another vision. I've been having them since I was thirteen. You two should be used to them by now."

He remembered it as if it were yesterday. After all, it was a significant event in his life. Alex smiled as his mind flashed back to that day just a little over twenty years ago. Tamara and Ariel had both been present the first time it happened. They'd gone to Ariel's house after school to watch some T.V. All of a sudden the program he was watching was no longer there, and instead Alex saw an elderly black woman lying on the floor, writhing in pain.

When the vision faded, he turned to Tamara and Ariel and said, "We have to go," and then got up and ran out the door.

Tamara and Ariel followed him next door to Mrs. Johnson's house. When he got there he picked up a rock and threw it through the window that was besides the front door. Knocking the glass out of the way, he reached in and unlocked the door. Both of the girls were shocked.

"Alex, what are you doing? You're going to get us in trouble. If you don't stop right now I'm going to tell Mom and Dad," Tamara said.

"No, I can't stop. Mrs. Johnson is hurt and we have to help her," Alex said.

"What do you mean Mrs. Johnson is hurt? How do you know?" Ariel asked.

"I'm not really sure how I know it, but I do. I had some kind of vision, and I saw her lying on the floor in pain. We have to hurry, we have to help her," Alex said with a sense of urgency.

"Okay, calm down. Let's go see what going on," Ariel replied.

"Are you two crazy? If we go in there we could be arrested for breaking into a house. Alex, you're nuts. There is no way that you could possibly know that Mrs. Johnson is hurt. You're just imagining things," Tamara said.

"You can stay out here if you want, but I'm going in. Mrs. Johnson is a sweet old lady, and I've got to help her if I can," Alex replied, defiance evident in his voice.

He had been right. When they went into the house they found Mrs. Johnson lying on the floor, hurt. They called an ambulance that drove her to the hospital where they discovered she had a broken hip. After that Alex had many more visions, and they all turned out to be true. He was abruptly brought back from his trip down memory lane by the sound of Tamara's voice as she spoke to him.

"No, Alex. This wasn't like your other visions. This one was very different."

"Tamara is right, Alex. This one was different. Whenever you had a vision before, you were always still with us. You could actually tell us what you were seeing while you were seeing it. This time you weren't here. Your body was, but your mind was somewhere else. We were afraid for a moment that you wouldn't be coming back. Don't lie to us. This one wasn't the same as the others, was it?" Ariel interjected.

Alex sighed deeply. He'd never before had a vision that involved such violence. All his previous ones involved missing people, or someone who had been injured and needed help. This was the first time he'd witnessed a murder. And he hadn't really witnessed it as much as he had experienced it. He was hoping that he would be able to keep what he had just seen from them, but he'd never been able to hide anything from them before, so what made him think he could do it now?

Looking around the salon he noticed that they had an audience. Several of his sister's and Ariel's patrons were gawking at him. "Let's take this discussion to the office in the back so that we won't disturb your clientele any further," he suggested.

When they reached the office, Ariel said to him, "Okay, we have privacy now, so spill."

"Both of you were right. This vision was different from any other that I've ever had before. Usually when I have one, it's like watching T.V. I'm simply an observer of the action that's taking place. This time I became a participant," Alex admitted.

"What do you mean, you became a participant?" Tamara asked.

"You know that I don't see the past or the future. I see the present. I see what's happening as it is happening. However, this time I didn't just see it, I felt it. I actually became one of the people in my vision. And something else that was different was that this vision involved murder."

"Murder?" Tamara and Ariel asked in unison.

"Yes, murder. And I felt it happening. I was the one being murdered. I could feel myself dying, and if you hadn't called me back, Tamara, I think I may have actually died along with the victim."

Ariel was shaken. "Alex, are sure you weren't having a vision of the future and foreseeing your own murder? If that's the case, then we can prevent it."

Alex shook his head. "No, Ariel. The victim wasn't me, it was a woman. The vision couldn't have been of the future. I've never had a precognitive vision before, or a post cognitive one, it has to be of the present."

His sister looked him in the eyes. "How do you know that she's dead? She could just be hurt."

"Tamara, she's dead all right. People don't survive decapitation."

"Oh, my God! Her head was cut off? That's just horrendous. Did you see who did this?" Ariel asked in horror.

"Yes, it was man with a scar on his face, and he used a machete."

"Alex, you have to go to the police," Tamara demanded.

"No, I'm not going to do that right now. Since I've never had a vision like this before, I need to be sure that it was real. Besides, I have no idea where it took place. It could be anywhere, maybe even somewhere outside of the state or the country. I'm going to wait and watch the news. If anything like what I saw is reported, then I'll go. I also don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. The last thing I need is for the press to be hounding me because of my gift."

"Okay, that sounds reasonable," Tamara acquiesced.

Suddenly Ariel started to laugh. Both Alex and Tamara looked at her as if she were crazy. Tamara glared at her and inquired, "Ariel, what in Hell are you laughing at? This is serious."

"I know it is, but I just couldn't help myself. Look," she said as she pointed to Alex's hair.

When Tamara's gaze went to where Ariel was pointing, she began to laugh as well. Alex's normally well-groomed dark brown hair looked horrible. He had started having his vision in the middle of his haircut, and Ariel had never finished it.

Alex looked confused. "What?"

"Little brother, I think you need to go back out into the salon and allow Ariel to finish cutting your hair."

Alex got up and looked in the mirror that was hanging over Tamara's desk, and then he too began to laugh. "I think you're right. No self-respecting gay man would go out in public looking like this. Let's go Ariel."

The incessant ringing of the telephone yanked Texas Ranger Sgt. Zach Sluder out of a sound sleep. When he looked over at the clock on his bedside table and saw that it was four-forty a.m., he groaned. Reaching out, he grabbed the telephone.

"Sluder," he growled into the receiver.

"Zach, sorry to wake you, but we need to get over to Collin County right away. I'll be at your apartment to pick you up in twenty minutes. Be ready. I'll fill you in on the way," came the voice of his best friend and fellow Texas Ranger Sgt. Soledad Ramos.

"Okay, I'll see you then. And Sole, this had better be good," he said to her before he hung up the phone.

He got out of bed, stretched in order to get the kinks out of his muscles, and then walked into the bathroom. After removing the boxer briefs that he had worn to bed, he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. He had an outstanding body for a thirty-five year old. He stood five feet ten inches tall and weighed one hundred and seventy-five pounds. His muscles were strong and well defined. His chest, abdomen, ass, and legs were covered in the same black hair that was on his head. He had a face that his lovers told him was ruggedly handsome, and his job as a Texas Ranger kept him in excellent physical condition.

He smiled as his gaze traveled to what was hanging between his legs. He was very happy with the equipment that God had given him. He had used it to please a great many of both women and men. His uncut cock was larger than average and his large and pendulous testicles were suspended in a hairy ball sac.

He stepped into the shower stall where he took a quick shower and washed his hair. He then shaved, brushed his teeth, and got dressed in a pair of black jeans, a maroon and white striped pullover shirt, a salute to his alma mater, Texas A&M University, and a pair of black cowboy boots. He pinned the silver badge, a small star enclosed within a circle that was unique to the Texas Rangers, onto his shirt. He then attached the holster containing his SIG Sauer P226 .357 caliber pistol, the weapon of choice for most Texas Rangers, to his belt over his right hip.

When he finished dressing, he went into his living room so he could look out his front window and wait for Sole. When he saw her pull up in her bright red Ford Escape SUV, he grabbed the white cowboy hat that was part of the Texas Rangers' tradition, and went outside.

He got into the passenger side of the vehicle, and turned to greet Sole. Before he could say anything, she thrust a cup of coffee into his hand. He smiled at her and said, "Sole, you are too good to me."

"You got that right, but I guess you're worth it," she said with a grin as she drove out of the apartment complex and onto the street.

He took a drink of his coffee and then looked at her. She was dressed similarly, with the exception that she wore a hot pink shirt. She always maintained that just because she was a tough Texas Ranger was no reason that she couldn't be feminine.

"Okay, what's so important in Collin County that it made you get me up at such an ungodly hour?" he asked her.

"Well, it looks like The Executioner may be back."

"What!" Zach exclaimed in disbelief.

"You know that I'm the Ranger on call for Company B this week? About forty-five minutes ago I received a request for assistance from the Collin County Sheriff's Department. They said they just responded to a call about a dead body that had been found in a wooded area next to Lake Lavon. When they got there, they found the decapitated, naked body of a white female. There was a laminated note attached to the body by a large safety pin. The note claimed the murder had been the work of The Executioner. When I heard that, I figured you would want to come with me."

Zach's mind was swiftly drawn back to a time eleven years ago. Like now, it was summer. He had just finished his master's degree at Texas A&M in criminal psychology, and had started to work for the McKinney Police Department. He'd applied for a job as an officer with the Texas Department of Public Safety because his goal had always been to be a Texas Ranger, but they didn't have any positions available at that time. So, he figured he could work as a police officer for McKinney until a position with DPS opened up.

One day he received a call that a dead body had been discovered in Finch Park. When he got there, he found the decapitated body of a naked man. Just like Sole described, there had been a laminated note attached to his body with a large safety pin.

The body had obviously been out in the hot Texas sun for several days. It was found in a secluded part of the park where few people ever went. Visitors had started to complain that a horrible stench had been emanating from this area, and so an employee of the City of McKinney Park and Recreation Department had been sent to investigate. Needless to say, she discovered the source of the stench.

The only dead bodies he'd ever seen had been at funerals, so he had been totally unprepared to deal with the sight and smell of a decaying, headless body that had become infested with maggots. He became so sick to his stomach that he vomited. At that moment he realized that police work was more demanding than he had ever thought. He decided that if he was going to achieve his goal of becoming a Texas Ranger he had to toughen up, and so he had. So much so, that sometimes he wondered if he'd become too jaded.

The body he found eleven years ago was just one in a series of six murders that occurred that summer in McKinney and surrounding cities. All the victims were found naked and decapitated, with a laminated note signed by 'The Executioner' attached to their bodies with a large safety pin. Then, just as suddenly as they started, they stopped. They never found the person who committed the murders. There had been no connections of any kind they could find between the victims, The Executioner had been an equal opportunity killer. The victims, though all adults, had been both male and female, and of black, white, and Hispanic races.

Because he had been the first police officer on the scene of the first murder, he had a particular interest in this case. He'd always wanted to be the one to solve it. For several years, he'd spent a great deal of his free time trying to come up with a new clue that would shed some light on the identity of this murderer. He finally gave up, resigned to the fact that this case would never be solved. Now it looked as if The Executioner was back, and though he was sorry about this new death, it gave Zach a second chance to put a stop to this maniac.

"Earth to Zach," Sole said in an effort to gain his attention.

"Sole, I'm sorry. My mind just wandered back eleven years to that day when I arrived on the scene of The Executioner's first murder. I really want to stop this guy. If this new murder is his handiwork, then we have to find him soon or we'll have another series of murders on our hands. Let's just hope that there are more clues this time, or at least that forensic science has evolved enough to find ones that we may have missed back then. We can't let this lunatic keep killing innocent people."

"I know, and we will, Zach."

"How can you be sure of that? We couldn't stop him last time. What makes you think we can now?" Zach questioned with frustration.

"I don't know how I know. Women's intuition, I guess. But Zach, you know I'm usually right about these things."

"Yeah, I know. Let's just hope you are this time, as well."

"Hey, I think we're here," Sole said as she pointed to a multitude of police cruisers that were parked on the side of the country road that they had been traveling on.

Zach was surprised. It took about forty-five minutes to drive from his apartment in Dallas to this area of Collin County. He had been so caught up in his memories that he failed to notice the distance they'd traveled.

Sole parked the car and they got out. They walked around the back of her SUV and retrieved two raid jackets with 'Texas Rangers' printed in huge fluorescent white letters on the back. They put them on and headed toward one of the young sheriff's deputies who were guarding the perimeter of the scene.

"I'm Sgt. Soledad Ramos and this is Sgt. Zach Sluder with the Texas Rangers. I believe we're expected," Sole said to the deputy.

"Yes, ma'am. If y'all will follow me, I'll take you to Sgt. Sullivan. He's waiting on you," she said to them.

They walked for a half a mile into the woods before they came upon the murder site. The deputy took them to where Sgt. Sullivan was standing talking to another man who wore a raid jacket that identified him as being with the Collin County Medical Examiner's office. He saw Zach and Sole approaching, and turned to greet them.

"Sgt. Sullivan, these are Texas Rangers Ramos and Sluder," the deputy introduced them.

"Thank you, Deputy. You can go back to your station now," the investigator stated. Turning to Zach and Sole, he said, "Hi, I'm Chase Sullivan, an Investigator with the Collin County Sheriff's Department Criminal Investigations Section, and this is Ridge Fisher, an FNDI from the Medical Examiner's office. You know, I've always wanted to meet a Texas Ranger. I'm sorry that it has to be under these circumstances, though."

Sole extended her hand to first Chase, and then Ridge, and said, "I'm Sole Ramos, and this is Zach Sluder."

After Zach shook Chase and Ridge's hands, he asked, "An FNDI? I've never heard of that abbreviation before, what does it stand for?"

"That you've never heard of us doesn't surprise me," Ridge replied with a smile. Reaching into the pocket of his raid jacket, he pulled out a small black leather case. Opening it, he took out two business cards and handed them to Zach and Sole.

Zach looked at the card and an expression of surprise passed over his face. "You're a nurse?"

"Yeah, as the card indicates, I'm a Forensic Nurse Death Investigator. Probably the reason you haven't heard of an FDNI is because it's a fairly new nursing specialty. It's only been in existence for less than ten years. In fact, it's so new that I just recently graduated with a Masters of Science degree in Nursing from one of the first graduate programs geared towards this specialty. The Master's program is actually in Emergency and Trauma nursing with an emphasis in Forensics," Ridge responded, slightly amused by Zach surprise.

"But nurses work with the living, not the dead," Sole said, jumping into the conversation. "I mean, isn't that kind of contrary to a nurse's mission of healing the sick?"

"Yeah," Ridge said, and then chuckled. "I guess it's not the traditional role people associate with the nursing profession, but it's one that nurses are uniquely qualified to fill. We have an in-depth knowledge of human anatomy and physiology, disease pathology, and the effects of trauma on the human body. We are also experts in documentation, which a death investigator has to do a lot of. These skills are learned during our years as student nurses. All of this gives us an advantage over non-nursing death investigators who are usually just college graduates who receive on-the-job training. The only skill not taught in nursing school is the medico-legal aspects of the job, such as collection and preservation of evidence without contamination, and maintaining the chain of custody of the collected evidence. A nurse can learn these particular skills either on-the-job, or in a graduate program like the one I just completed."

Chase listened to the exchange between Ridge and the Rangers with a barely suppressed smile. Ridge having to explain his job was a common occurrence. People just couldn't get over the fact that a nurse was a death investigator. He had to admit, he'd been just as perplexed when he'd first met the FNDI three month ago, but his confusion quickly faded into the background when he saw how good the man was at his job. In fact, Ridge had been instrumental in helping them solve several homicides.

They'd quickly developed a close camaraderie, and now Chase considered the FNDI his best friend. Yet, to be totally honest, what he felt for Ridge went beyond friendship. He was in love with him, but he would never be able to let him know for fear of losing him completely. Ridge was as straight as the line that was the shortest distance between two points. He wanted the death investigator as his lover, but he'd rather have him as a best friend than nothing at all.

Zach frowned deeply. "You said that you just recently graduated from this program. Does this mean that we have a green death investigator working this crime scene?" he asked sternly.

"No, I'm far from being green. I worked as an FNDI in Harris County for two years before I entered the Master's program. I may be new to Collin County, and I may be the only FNDI in this County's M.E.'s office, but I'm not new to death investigation. I know my job, Sgt. Sluder, and I'm damned good at it. If that isn't sufficient for you, then please feel free to call the Medical Examiner and ask for someone else to be assigned to the case. Though I'm not sure he's going to be really pleased at being awakened this early in the morning," Ridge stated firmly, challenge evident in his voice.

Chase's amusement suddenly evaporated and he became incensed that this arrogant prick of a Texas Ranger was attacking the credibility of the man he loved, and in doing so was indirectly attacking the credibility of the Sheriff's Department. Maneuvering so that he stood toe-to-toe with Zach, he looked him square in the eye and spoke in a voice boiling over with anger, "Listen here, Sgt. Sluder," he said, investing as much contempt in those words as he could muster. "I asked for the assistance of the Texas Rangers because that girl was the victim of a sadistic monster and you have access to resources that can help us capture him quicker, not because we're some Podunk hicks who don't know what the Hell we're doing. The Collin County Sheriff's Department and the Medical Examiner's Office employ competent investigators, and it's an insult that you're implying otherwise. If you think that we're just a bunch of ignorant rednecks, then maybe you should leave."

"No, that won't be necessary. It sounds as if you're well qualified for the job," he told Ridge. "I'm sorry if I implied otherwise. Please forgive me if I offended you, but I just need to know that everyone involved in this case knows what they're doing for the victim's sake," Zach said apologetically.

"That's no problem, I understand," Ridge responded.

"Apology accepted," Chase replied a bit reluctantly.

"Well, okay then," Sole said, changing the subject and indicating the crime scene beyond them. "What do we have?"

"About three a.m. a man who is camping with a group of his friends a little ways from here got up to go to the bathroom. He walked over to this area and stumbled over the body. He called us, and I got here about three-thirty," Chase replied, and then nodded for the FNDI to continue the report.

"The victim appears to be in her early to mid-twenties. From the body temperature, state of decomposition, and the ambient temperature this time of year, I'd estimate that she's been here for a week or a little less. It's impossible to tell for sure. Upon a preliminary external physical exam of the body, the only wound I found except for the decapitation was a deep laceration on her upper right arm. We'll know more when the pathologist does the autopsy. The body is over here, if you want to take a look," Ridge stated.

When they saw the body, Zach once more flashed back to that day eleven years ago. The scene was almost identical, except this victim was a woman. The victim was laid out flat on her back with her head lying at her feet. The laminated note was still attached to her chest. Zach knelt down on one knee so that he could read what was written.

"Would you mind reading it out loud, Zach?" Sole asked.

Zach nodded, and began to read:

This woman has been found guilty of crimes of the mind. She has been sentenced to death by decapitation. This execution has been carried out by The Executioner. May God have mercy on her soul, and may her victims find peace.

"'Crimes of the mind'? What is that supposed to mean?" Sole inquired.

"Yeah, I was wondering the same thing myself," Ridge said in agreement.

"I don't know. The notes on the victims eleven years ago said the same thing. We didn't understand it then, either," Zach said, sadness evident in his voice.

"So, it's the same serial killer then?" Sole asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Zach replied.

"What are you two talking about?" Chase asked, sounding confused.

Zach told him about the series of murders that took place eleven years ago. Chase listened attentively, and then said, "I called you in because this murder was strange. I had no idea that I had stumbled onto the work of a serial killer. Are you sure it's the same guy, or could it be a copycat?"

Zach sighed, and then his mouth thinned into a frown. "Yeah, I'm sure. The note is the clincher. We found a note with the same words pinned to all the bodies. There is no way this could be the work of a copycat, because the existence of the note was never revealed to the public."

"So what do we do now?" Chase questioned.

"We're going find this son of bitch and stop him before he kills again," Zach said with a vengeance.