What's Happened to Our Cows?

“It’s 1968, and we have made it past our atmosphere into the stars! Isn’t it crazy honey?”, spoke Susie Lou, the goofy wife of William Faraday.

“Yeah sure, whatever.”

“Oh come on Willie! Don’t you find it exciting?”

“No actually, but you know what I do find exciting? You handing me a Budweiser.”

“Ugh, Willie.”

Susie Lou stood up from her seat in front of their television and began her journey to the kitchen when suddenly, there was a loud bang booming from their ranch field. William cocks his shotgun, “Willie! What was-”

“Hush Susie! You want a barrel in our faces because someone was sick of your damn screaming?!” As William stared at her with veins protruding from his forehead, she thought to herself, “Well, your yelling isn’t making it any better you ding-a-ling.”

William slowly creaked the screen door open, with his shotgun pointed at his livestock. It didn’t take long to find the problem, as it literally was dragged to his front door step. His cow, a creamy caramel coated female, had a hole on the side of her head pouring blood. Her tongue hung low, barely touching the splinters of their wooden porch. “Honey, look.” There before them, as Susie pointed out, was a trail of blood from where their cow was once munching on her patch of grass, to now her grave site. “Oh God Willie.”

Frankly, he was shocked. The stubborn, angry man William Faraday was left speechless, standing before his most beautiful cow he bred. He didn’t know what to do. Due to the extent of the situation, and per his wife’s pleading request, he buried their mutilated cow and, reluctantly, held a small funeral for her. “Oh, um, cow.” Susie Lou said, “Poor cow, you were the sweetest one out of the bunch of cattle we have and I would just like to wish you a peaceful rest. You have anything to say Willie?”

“No. I’m muddier than any pig on this planet, I want my Budweiser.”

“Oh Willie, you’re so dramatic sometimes. Can we go back to watching the T.V?”

“Fine, just get me my beer by time I’m out of the shower.”

…

The sun had risen, and the sky is a light blue with orange streaks painted by God. Susie Lou woke up early, like she does every morning, to cook her husband breakfast as he gets dressed to work in the ranch. She sizzles her eggs in delight as she hears William come down the stairs. “Willie! Time for breakfast!”

“God, my mother wants me to have her grandchildren with you, I do not want little Susies running around my house calling me Willie left and right.” Susie Lou looked up from her cooking, and glared at him. “Shut up William, or so help me I will cut out your tongue myself.” She spoke with a voice so stern and low that it scared him, so he walked up to her, “Sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I forgive you!” She exclaimed with a smile, bouncing curls, and arms ready to embrace him, and so does she.

“Oh dear Lord why-”

“Shut up William.”

Therefore, this Sunday in 1968 was deemed to be the day where William was scared of his wife. At least, he was scared of her when she was sick of him and his rude humor. He felt so bad in fact, that he decided to buy her flowers during his work day. Maybe she could feel better if he showed his gratitude for her.

In his mindset of wanting to please his wife he opened the door, and within that pull of the handle his thoughts stop in their tracks. On his doorstep, another cow lies there lifeless with multiple stab wounds to his body. Even if he attempted to find out how many times the cow was stabbed he would lose count after fifty, but that is not the worst of it. The killer had left a note for them, stabbed into the eye of the cow with the murder weapon lodged in this animal’s skull. It read:

“This is the Zodiac speaking,

I have been toying with the police for a few days, so I am sure you have seen me on your television screen. I arrived last night and noticed your cow, a beautiful female. I shot her dead, and dragged her to your porch as a greeting. Later at around midnight, I stabbed your male cow and wrote you this letter, to let you know that I like your livestock. I hope you have a good time with the code I carved on your cow. If you crack it, it will tell you whether I kill Willie or Susie. You have until midnight.”

“God damn it Susie! You have the Zodiac Killer calling me Willie!”

“William I am so sick of your-” She stopped her voice when she noticed the cow, then she stood in silence. William hands her the letter and, by the end of her read through, tears began to stream down her face. “Willie, I’m scared.”

Together they stepped forward towards their milky, white cow who was stained red at this point, and found what the Zodiac Killer was on about. There, carved, was the code. It showed shapes, letters, and symbols that seemed to have no correlation. William lost it. He was no longer in his right mind, all he could think about was catching the Zodiac before he could lay a finger on either of them. After a deep breath, he spoke, “Susie, listen to me. I don’t think we should waste any time on this lousy code. I think we should set up traps to catch this guy. What do you say?”

“Traps?”

“Yes traps. You know, like trap doors and trip wires. Ways to distract him.”

“Oh, silly me, of course.”

Moving quickly, they began to set up their plan. Susie planted her traps as William positioned his. They worked until nightfall, and when they finished, Susie made them supper. Ironically, she chose to make them hamburgers, of all things.

…

By 11:59 p.m they knelt by the side of their bed. They realized too late that the couple used all of their weapons for the traps, so they knelt helpless. They prayed that their traps would work, but by the stroke of midnight, the door was kicked down. The trip wire Susie planted caused the shotgun to fire, however, they heard heavy boots enter their home. Just before the stairs was a trapdoor set up by William, that would land the Zodiac in their basement, but their poor job of hiding it allowed the killer to step right over it.

The couple had one more chance. One last trap positioned in front of the bedroom door, another trip wire that fired their one and only pistol. The door was pushed open, and a man with an executioner hood stepped forward, triggering the trip wire. One bang, and he was shot in the shoulder.

“Yeah we did it Willie! Look at u-”

“Susie you dumb bitch he’s perfectly fine! That bullet did nothing!”

He was right. The Zodiac Killer stood before them as if nothing happened. He kept his posture, and pulled out a gun from his coat. There was an uncomfortable silence for awhile, until it was broken with the Zodiac’s words, “Did you crack the code?”

“N-no.” spoke Susie, then the killer moved his attention to William. “No sir, we didn’t crack your code.” The Zodiac stood there for a moment, then he cocked his J.C. Higgins Model 80 semi automatic pistol. He pressed the barrel on Susie’s forehead, and so she began to cry. “Please Mr. Zodiac sir, don’t kill us! Take our cows, please just leave us alo-”

Another bang, and she was dead. “You Bastard!”

“Oh hush Willie.” the Zodiac said, “I know you thought she was a whiner too.”

William began to cry, looking at his wife with the color gone from her eyes was too much for him. “Susie. My dear Susie Lou.”

“Oh give me a break!” Another bang, and William was dead. The Faraday couple was now gone, and the Zodiac claimed two more victims as his slaves for his afterlife.

Police arrived after the Zodiac Killer anonymously called them about the location, and upon arrival, dozens of cows lie on the ground, lifeless, with bullet holes pouring blood out of their skull. It was a horrific sight, something that the San Francisco Police Department never thought they would lay eyes on.

Inside they found the bodies of Susie Lou Faraday and William Faraday shot once each within point blank range. While searching through the crime scene, police found the letter from the Zodiac. From there, they continued their hunt for the mysterious Zodiac Killer.

The Zodiac's code, and the first cow to be victimized.