by Sam Harding
The plastic cuff had cut into the bony part of his wrist along the pinky side, and although it hurt, Thomas realized it couldn’t have been that bad because he’d been hurt worse before. He’d seen more blood when he’d bumped his head on the playground at school, or on his knees when he’d slid into bases during baseball practice. This was nothing. If anything, Thomas thought, the bruising around the cut hurt more than the actual cut did.
Little Thomas had no idea what time it was, but he knew he needed to hurry up. Freeing his right hand hadn’t been very difficult, but for some reason, he was having a tough time with the left one. About an hour into huffing and puffing and pulling, Thomas had to be honest with himself and admit he didn’t have any real super powers after all. That alone had nearly caused him to give up, but then he remembered Batman didn’t have any super powers either, and so, Thomas knew he couldn’t give up, because Batman would never give up if he was in this situation.
On top of having a sore wrist, Thomas noticed more snow had come inside the huge room through the broken windows high on the wall, but he didn’t feel cold. All the pulling and work he was putting into freeing his wrist had warmed him up, but a part of Thomas was worried the snow would pile up so thick, that he’d be consumed in it and never be able to get free.
An ear-piercing caw echoed throughout the room and Thomas jumped out of fright and felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. At first, he thought it was his kidnapper making a noise at him, but then he realized it was something else. He frantically looked around the room, his little eyes darting from point to point until he finally found what he was looking for. He saw the two little black eyes first, glinting in the light coming through the broken windows, and then he made out the body of a large raven perched atop an empty shelf on the opposite end of the room as the broken windows. The bird was looking right at Thomas, wishing for the little boy to hurry up and die so that it could have a hefty meal out of the cold and in relative shelter.
Frustration overruled Thomas’s panic, and he got back onto his feet in a squatted position and began to pull again. He would not be food for that raven, no way. He pulled until the plastic cuff was flexed tight on the metal ring on the floor, and then, with all of his might, he pulled even harder, bracing his left wrist with his right hand as he did so. A primal grunt grew inside Thomas’s chest, getting louder and louder as he pulled. The grunts soon turned into a yell, a loud and determined effort, fueled by the knowledge this last effort could mean the difference between life or death. Thomas pulled with every ounce of strength he had left, ignoring the blood coming from his wrist, ignoring the pain, ignoring the raven – he only focused on the pull.
Suddenly, there was an audible snap, and Thomas was sent flailing through the air, the momentum from the sudden release of his left arm sending him up and backwards, until he tripped over his feet and landed hard on his butt. Thomas felt his teeth slam against each other as he hit the ground, but he was too elated by his success to really care about the pain. He quickly jumped to his feet and looked at his left wrist, hardly able to believe it was free from the restraint. He looked back to the floor, confirming the zip tie that had held his left wrist had snapped in two.
A smile spread across Thomas’s face, but it vanished as the raven cawed again. Thomas looked up at the jet-black bird and stared back into its coal eyes, silently telling the bird it needed to search elsewhere for its lunch. As if it understood the silent message, the large bird spread its wings and took flight, escaping from the broken windows, its caw making its way back to Thomas’s ears even through the cacophony of the storm.
Feeling more victorious than he’d ever felt in his life, Thomas raced for the front door of the warehouse and barreled through it, nearly falling onto his face once his feet sunk into the snow outside.
Once he’d caught his footing, he looked around him and, at seeing the bad man’s car was still gone, Thomas turned away from where the car had been parked and took off at a sprint through the snow, heading for the thickest cluster of trees he could see through the wall of white.
His lungs burned as he ran, and the cold made him cough a nasty cough until he could no longer keep up the sprint and was forced to slow down to a walk. Running in the snow was harder than Thomas had thought it would be, the powder seemed to suck him into the ground and keep him from going as fast as he normally could. He was surprised to see it was up to his knees in some spots and he wondered if it would get to be above his head if it kept snowing like this. Was that even possible?
On instinct, he turned around to get a look at the warehouse just to see how far he’d gone, and he was shocked to realize he could no longer see the building at all. It was as if it had completely disappeared, totally swallowed by the swirling angry whiteness. A low and long howl caused by the wind added to the severity of the moment, making Thomas suddenly feel more alone and exposed than he’d ever felt before. He suddenly found himself wishing he’d have stayed in the building, but it was too late for that now.
Now wet and cold, Thomas trudged through the snow, keeping his head down to combat the wind, until he finally enveloped himself in the trees that he’d been aiming for since his escape. The thickness of the woods around him helped combat the wind, but the cold was still immeasurable, and Thomas thought about turning back and finding the building again, but the thought of the bad man kept him from actually going through with it.
No, Thomas decided, he would keep moving forward. If he kept moving, he would eventually find someone that could help him, of that he was certain, even though he didn’t know why. And so, Thomas continued forward, moving deeper and deeper into the forest, growing more and more lost with each step he took.
Only a few minutes into his hike did Thomas look up, once again locking eyes with the large black raven, now perched on the limb of a bare birch tree, looking down at him, waiting for his meal to finally lay down and die.
The large bird cawed again, and little Thomas began to cry.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
2:50 P.M.
I sit at Kate’s bar with my sidearm disassembled before me. I can hear Kohl on the phone behind me, he’s been making phone calls for the past hour, and in the corner of my eye, I can see Kathryn watching me from the stool to my right. I don’t say a word as I wipe every piece of my weapon clean, from the bolt, to the barrel, to the lower receiver, and even the magazine for good measure. I have a feeling, that by the time the day is over, I will be needing my weapon, and the last thing I want is for it to fail me when and if that time comes.
My fear and anxiety are overwhelming, but as I focus on cleaning my pistol, I feel both of those emotions form into what can only be described as inconsolable rage. I want nothing less than to find the fucker who took Thomas and rip him limb from limb as he’d done with all the other boys in the past. It would be a fitting end for someone like him, and I hope to God I get to be the one to do it.
The storm rages on beyond the windows overlooking the park, and I can’t help but wonder if Thomas is out there in it somewhere, tied up, alone, cold, and scared. The thought makes me even angrier and I feel my teeth grinding together as I finish putting my weapon back together, slipping the metal slide atop the polymer receiver, racking the slide into place and then locking it to the rear. I slip a magazine loaded with .9mm hollow points into the magazine well and release the magazine catch with my left thumb. With a loud smack, the slide goes into battery, seating a round in the chamber of the weapon. I study the loaded weapon for a moment longer, hoping it’s enough to fight the war I’ve rekindled.
I feel Kate’s hand on my back and I look over at her, seeing that her eyes are darting between myself and the gun in my hands. Her expression looks worried, but at the same time, there’s something about it that also says “I understand.” She would understand – I’m not the only one who’s experienced loss at the hands of this animal, and I’m sure she’d be just as willing to pull the trigger on that animal as I am.
I silence myself when Kate nods. The hand on my back moves up to the back of my neck and I can feel her fingers gently stroking my hair. Her piercing eyes gaze into mine, giving me a view into her soul and her a view into mine. In this moment we’re nothing more than two tormented beings, walking through hell together, side-by-side, hand-in-hand, and I realize I’ve never felt so close to a single person in my entire life. It’s not that I feel more for Kathryn than I did Dani, it’s that Dani and I formed a bond through good times and Kathryn and I are forming a bond through pain and misery, forging something that I didn’t know I could ever have with another person. No matter how much pain we’re in, having each other is the only thing making it bearable. I realize now, more than ever, that I love her, but I know now is not the time to say it. Not yet.
“No matter what happens,” Kate says in a near whisper so that Jason can’t overhear her. “I’ll be by your side. For now, and long after this nightmare is over, I want to be with you. I’ve made my mind up on that already. I’m not going anywhere.”
I reach out and touch her cheek, feeling the wetness of a rogue tear sliding between my skin and hers. Now might not be the time to say the words, but I can tell she’s holding back just as much as I am, and for a brief moment, something about this moment makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.
“Okay, thanks a lot, Jeanie. Yeah, I’ll keep my phone on. I owe you a million.” Kate and I turn around when we hear Jason end his phone call. He looks more tired than ever, but I can tell by the look on his face that he just managed to come through big time for us.
“What is it?” Kathryn asks hurriedly, accidentally cutting Jason off as he was a bout to speak.
“You know Jeanie Malcom, right?” He asks me.
I nod. Jeanie works for the county, and although I can’t remember for sure what her official job title is, I know she has access to surveillance camera feeds on most of the traffic lights throughout solace county. “Kind of, she’s helped on a case or two.”
“Well she just gave up her Christmas Eve to come into work. I didn’t give her much, told her it was a time sensitive sort of thing, the fewer questions the better, but she says if West’s car has been driving around the incorporated county, she should be able to find it.”
“She didn’t ask for a warrant?” I ask, surprised.
Jason shook her head. “If anyone else had of asked, probably, but not for me. We’ve always gotten along. She said she’ll keep it on the down-low for now, too.”
“That’s great news,” I breathe. “Is she at work now?”
“On her way. She said with the storm she’ll be about ten minutes out.”
Another ten minutes Thomas doesn’t have, I don’t say. “Okay.”
“We’re going to find him, Micah.”
“We’d better,” I say. “Because if we don’t, Thomas is going to die and it’s going to be all my fault.” I stand up from the stool, holster my weapon and grab my car keys from atop the bar.
“Where are you going?” Kate asks.
“Something I need to do,” I say and then look at Kohl. “Just checking on a lead. I need you to stay with Kate.”
“What?” Kate protests. “No, I’m coming with you.”
“No, I need you to stay. Please Kate, just do as I ask. Listen to the radio with Jason, if anything comes up, call my cell and I’ll come back as fast as I can. I won’t be gone for very long.”
“I know where you’re going,” Jason says accusingly before Kate has a chance to argue further. “You’re going to his house, aren’t you?”
“I just need to see something for myself,” I say, making my way towards the door. “Look after her, Jason. Please.”
“Who’s house?” Kate demands.
Without replying, I kiss Kate on the forehead and, before anyone can argue with me, I slip out of the apartment and close the door behind me. I make my way down the hall and hurry down the stairs as fast as I can, hoping neither Kate nor Jason decide to chase after me and change my mind.
I stayed just long enough to see if Jason could get anywhere with his contacts, and now that I know he’s got something in play, there’s something I need to do that I’ve been wanting to do ever since leaving West’s house, something I need to see for myself.
*
Getting to my destination had been slow-going, but after slipping and sliding my Bronco through town, and then finally making it to a residential area on the outskirts, I’d finally made it to my destination. It was the exact same neighborhood I’d been in a few nights ago when I’d delivered the news to Mrs. Klimek that her husband had been cheating on her with his employee from Walmart.
The upper-middle-class housing was all neatly adorned with Christmas decorations and lights, and a few of the houses that had children even had large snowmen built outside. I slowly drive past the Klimek residence, taking note there are no Christmas lights hanging on the house, the occupants obviously not taking part in the holiday cheer. Also missing from the driveway is the red Ford truck, leading me to believe—and hope—Mrs. Klimek had kicked her husband’s cheating ass out for good.
As I drive further down the block, I notice there’s one other house not decorated with lights and ornaments, and I remember by the large windows in the front that it’s the house I’m looking for. I slow my Bronco down to a near-stop to conduct my quick drive-by surveillance mission. There’s no car in the driveway, and as far as I can tell, there’s no movement or lights on anywhere inside the house. Also, unlike all the other houses, there’s no smoke pouring from this house’s chimney, leading me to believe its owner is not home.
It’s not exactly proof, but it definitely doesn’t mean I’m wrong either. I feel my teeth clench and my hands grip the steering wheel tighter as I speed back up, concluding my surveillance on the house belonging to Detective William Blake.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
2:30 P.M.
Nearly two hours had passed since David had entered the small strip club. He’d sat at the U-shaped bar near the dancers’ stage the entire time, completely shut off to anyone who tried to strike up somewhat of a conversation with him. Twice, the muscular bartender had approached him and asked if he wanted a drink, but David told him no both times. Three times, when they’d taken a break in between songs, he’d been asked by one of the dancers if he wanted a private dance in the back, but as with the bartender, he’d simply told them no, and when he declined to give any further explanations, the girls simply shrugged and moved onto the two old men to his left.
David knew that by just sitting there in silence, he was making a scene and that everyone, except for maybe the two old drunks, had their eyes on him. Yes, he was an outcast amongst outcasts in this place, but that didn’t make him at all the same as anyone else. He wasn’t hear for pleasure, he was here to rid the world of an ungodly establishment.
By now he’d grown used to the loudness of the music, and his headache had moved to the back of his head, barely painful enough to even remind him he still had it. Every once in a while, he’d glance around the room to make sure nobody else had entered, or to make sure everyone was still in the same place he’d seen them the last time he’d looked around. He figured the two old men to his left were regulars here, because since he’d sat down at the bar, nobody else had come into the place. Being that it was Christmas Eve, David wasn’t surprised. Most of the demons were with their demon families and nowhere near places like this filthy strip club; all in order to put on a good face for the grandparents or in-laws who, deep down, were equally corrupt and disgusting.
David suddenly felt a hand touch his left shoulder and he looked up from the bar towards whomever it was that had disturbed him. Thinking it was the bartender, he was about to tell him for the third time that he wasn’t thirsty, but
was instead greeted by Gordon, the cowboy manager of this hell hole.
“Are you okay, son?” Gordon asked.
David nodded. “Of course.”
“You’ve been sitting here for two hours, you know that? That ain’t normal.”
“It’s normal for me.”
“Well – well it ain’t normal for here. You’ve gotta pay in, son.”
“Pay in?”
“That’s right. You’ve got to buy a drink, or a lap dance, or hell, even stick a dollar bill in blondie’s ass crack for all I care. Either way, you can’t just sit here and not spend money.”
“Says who?”
“Says me, that’s who.”
Gordon’s charm had quickly given way to irritation and David decided that now was the time to make his move. He’d surveilled the place long enough and had taken in all the evilness he could take. For the past two hours he’d planned and debated with himself on whether or not it was worth doing what he so badly wanted to do. Was it worth risking the mission to rid the world of a place like this?
Of course, it was.
David then thought of the little boy locked away in the warehouse on the northern end of town, and although he was certain the boy wouldn’t be going anywhere while he was gone, David figured it was time to go and babysit as his master would have wanted him to. Six o’clock was coming up very soon, and David decided that what he was about to do here would be enough to hold his urges over until that time came.