The Terrorist (Lens Book 3)

by J B Cantwell

  And the ten thousand dollar credit card I pushed into his palm was insurance enough.

  First came Janeen, Valle, and Grant. But they had seen this all before. They’d lived as part of the upper class for years, Valle and Grant for as long as they could remember.

  But when the doorbell rang, and I saw Melanie, I immediately doubted myself. What would they think of all this pomp and riches? Would they hate me for having access to it all now? Or had I been generous enough with my finances? Immediately, I started back pedaling in my mind. I would need to come up with something. A gift to celebrate our success.

  I thought I might have just the thing.

  Melanie’s jaw dropped as she walked in the door. She looked around, shellshocked. Then came Jay and Jeff. Jeff looked like a new man, cheeks filled with color, and he smiled genuinely at me as he crossed the threshold.

  “This is amazing,” he said, staring around.

  I nodded as the rest of them came inside. And at the end of the line, Hannah.

  She was better. Much better. She no longer needed a cane to walk, and her familiar sneer was out in full force. Though she was still slight, I could tell that her body had made it through the worst and was now on the mend. She approached me, and I frowned at her, not knowing what to say.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  I eyed her warily, taking comfort in the fact, or at least the probability, that she wasn’t armed.

  “So,” she said. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  We stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then she turned and followed the others inside.

  “Geez, Pink. I didn’t realize how much you were holding out on us.” Her face, and most everyone else’s face, was in awe of the space. High ceilings, marble countertops, a buffet of foods many of them had probably never tried.

  But suddenly, I was regretting inviting them here. They must have thought that I was trying to show off my wealth, when my only desire was to share it with them.

  I closed the door and walked back inside. I found everyone huddled together around the kitchen island, looking nervous. Grant, Janeen, and Valle were separate from the rest of the group, too. Nobody seemed to know what to say.

  I took a breath.

  “So, here we all are. As long as I’m Audrey, I’m rich, so I think we should start talking about moving the Volunteers into some nicer housing. Maybe somewhere above the water line.”

  Nobody spoke. Nobody chuckled.

  I tried a smile and failed.

  “So, let’s start there,” I went on. “Everyone grab some food, and let’s talk at the table.”

  I motioned toward the enormous dining room. I hadn’t decorated it or anything; it was pompous enough on its own. Seeing everyone together made me lose my appetite, but no one was touching the food, so I went first.

  Prime rib. Salad. Potatoes. Bread and fresh butter. And at the end of the island, a giant sheet cake cut into twenty pieces.

  I took it all.

  And I was glad that I did, because not long after, Melanie took my lead, followed by Hannah and the rest of the Volunteers.

  Grant, Valle, and Janeen stood still, though, not moving. Valle had a glass of champagne in his hand, but the other two hid behind him, their hands empty.

  “Come on, guys,” I whispered. “Help me out here.”

  “Ah,” Valle said. He tipped back his glass and drained it, then joined the line.

  I took my plate and walked into the dining room. Several people were seated, but I noticed that the only one eating was Hannah.

  Of course Hannah was eating. Why wait?

  Indeed.

  “Please don’t wait for us,” I said. “Your food will get cold.”

  “No worries,” Hannah said through a mouth of mashed potatoes. “You can just pop it in that little oven of yours and heat it up lickety split.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Hannah was a lot of things, but shy wasn’t one of them.

  I sat down at the head of the table and took a forkful of potatoes. My mouth was dry from nerves, though, and I almost needed to spit it out. I gulped it down, then reached for a water glass, filling it from a crystal pitcher.

  Valle walked into the room with three bottles of champagne in his arms.

  “Bottoms up!” he said.

  He put down the champagne and popped the first cork. Then, he picked up the stem closest to him and filled it until it was overflowing with bubbles.

  “Ah, there we are! Pass them down, now.”

  He held it out to the closest person, then filled another. Eventually, that first, sticky glass made it to me. I sat waiting for everyone to have a glass ready, and then I stood up.

  Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed.

  “I’d like to say something,” I said, trying to remember to breathe, myself. “First of all, thank you all for following me out of the Burn that day. I don’t know if I would’ve survived without your help.” I looked at Melanie. “And Mel, thanks for waiting for me that day. I think we did things as right as we could.” I turned to my new friends. “You guys don’t know these other folks, but they’ve guided me through things since I got here. That’s Janeen, Grant, and Valle. They’re all great, but Valle is our mastermind. So, to him, I offer my humble thanks.”

  I held out my glass.

  “To our success,” I said to them all, and I drank.

  “Hear, hear!” Valle said from the other end of the long dining table and downed another glass. Grant laughed and drank, too.

  Not everyone followed suit, but a few of them held up their glasses, including Melanie and Hannah.

  Mostly, people looked uncomfortable, but as the minutes ticked by, it seemed that everyone at least poked at their food. And once a bite or two passed their lips, most found it hard to stop themselves. Soon, everyone was leaning back in their chairs, patting full stomachs for the first time in what must’ve been a long time. Even Janeen had allowed herself to eat a small portion of the food.

  I turned to Melanie.

  “So, where should we look for—”

  I was cut off by the doorbell. I froze, looking around. Nobody had any answers. Everyone was here.

  The bell rang again.

  “Everyone, into the guest room!” I whispered. “Fast as you can!”

  In moments, everyone was on their feet, and then the stupidity of my request dawned on me. People, I could hide. But a buffet and a table of half-finished food would take at least an hour to get rid of.

  My eyes were wide, and I looked to Melanie.

  “Guns out?” she asked.

  “If I had one, yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  I walked across the dining room and into the hall. Everything seemed to close in on me the closer I got to the door. My breath was stuck in my chest. I tried telling myself to breathe, but it didn’t work.

  I paused when I reached the entry, heart pounding.

  “Who—” I tried, then cleared my throat. “Who is it?”

  Silence.

  Behind me, Melanie cocked her gun.

  I tiptoed up to the door and looked through the peep hole, but the hallway seemed empty. Who had it been, then?

  I unlocked the dead bolt and kept the chain on, then opened the door a crack.

  Nothing.

  I looked back at Melanie, shrugging, then closed the door, unhooked the chain and opened it up again.

  It was Melanie who saw the box. I had looked out into the hallway, and I almost stepped right on it.

  “Wait!” she said, grabbing my arm. She pointed down.

  What was it? A gift?

  I knelt over and picked it up.

  It was a delicate little thing, and I thought I recognized the box from somewhere. Valle’s place? A department store?

  No. A jewelry store.

  I backed up and shut the door. Melanie dashed in front of me and locked the dead bolt and chain.

  “What is it?” she asked.

/>   A few people had snuck out from the dining room, everyone cautiously waiting for me to give them the all clear.

  I didn’t, though. I just stood there staring.

  Don’t open it. You don’t want to see what’s inside. Don’t.

  But I had to open it. Whatever it was, it was meant for me; I knew that much for certain.

  Don’t.

  “Riley,” Melanie said. “Open it.”

  No.

  “Riley,” she repeated.

  “Okay,” I said.

  Okay.

  I flipped open the lid, recognized it as a ring box, something that some rich man somewhere might buy for his bride-to-be. It was like a little house for a diamond ring.

  But there was no diamond in this box.

  There was, instead, a finger, and around it, a worn, metal band with a spike on the inside edge, a formidable device I’d felt pierce the skin on my cheek more times than I could count.

  I knew what this was, and I knew what it meant.

  My mother was dead.

  Chapter Nine

  I raised my hand to my face, searching for the small scar I’d had from her last and final use of that ring on me, but my fingers couldn’t find the familiar dent in my cheek. The scar was gone, sanded away by the people whose job it had been to make me beautiful.

  Mom had always worn it, day and night. In fact, though she’d long since pawned her wedding ring from my father, she had always kept this one for herself.

  I dropped the box, and the finger fell out of it, sickeningly rolling across the wood floor.

  I dropped to my knees, shellshocked. Silent.

  Melanie bent over and picked up the finger and the box. A small notecard fell out that I hadn’t seen. She picked it up and handed it to me.

  I looked up, confused, dizzy.

  What?

  She placed the note on the floor in front of me, and quickly removed the box and finger from my view.

  I picked up the card, but the words were blurry, not from tears, but from distraction. I couldn’t seem to focus on anything. My hands. Melanie. This card. All was a jumble in my mind.

  “What does it say?” Valle asked. He knelt beside me and took the note from my shaking hands. Then, he sat down on the floor and put his head in his hands.

  “What is it?” Melanie asked.

  Valle looked up, shaking his head.

  “It’s Damien,” he said. “It’s Damien’s address.”

  This got my attention.

  Damien. I knew this already, of course. My only question was who was next? Or did he torture them all at the same time? I wondered what sort of information he had tried to get from my mother. My poor mother, who had known almost nothing about her daughter’s exploits away from home.

  There was a chance she was still alive. One ring finger wasn’t proof of death. I tried to imagine her; maybe she was chained to a table like Kiyah had been, just playing around the outskirts of death like a bird honing in on its prey.

  He knew, though, that I would come for her, for all of them. That was the purpose of this little gift. It was an invitation to the worst kind of party.

  Valle had tears in his eyes. I looked at him curiously.

  “Why are you crying?” I asked.

  “Don’t you see? An invitation to Damien’s is a death sentence. One way or another, he’s coming after you.” He looked around the room. “He’s coming for all of us.”

  Somewhere inside me something stirred. Anger? Fear? Obsession?

  Fury.

  I was done playing this disgusting game.

  I climbed up to my feet.

  “Mel, I need a gun. Give me yours.”

  “No way,” she said. “I’ll protect you, but I’m not going anywhere unarmed.”

  Janeen walked up to us.

  “You have a cache of guns in the right side closet in the dressing room. Did you never find it?”

  Yes, of course. In the haze of death, I had forgotten.

  “Follow me,” she said without further comment. She led me toward the dressing room. Mel, Hannah, and Valle followed behind us.

  When we’d all assembled in the room, Hannah spoke up immediately.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  I was glad the dresses I’d ripped and torn were no longer on the pedestal. The Volunteers didn’t need any more examples of the rich’s wasteful ways.

  “It’s a dressing room,” I said.

  “You need a whole room to get dressed in?” she asked.

  “Don’t know what to tell you, Hannah,” I said, irritated. “They sort of installed me here. New operating system. New apartment. New me. New everything.”

  As Janeen opened the door, the lights came on automatically, illuminating a variety of gowns and shoes. She walked inside and opened the gun closet within, surprising me as she picked up a handgun and passed it to me as if it were no more than a high heeled shoe. She picked up three more and a box of ammunition and walked out to the pedestal, where she dumped the entire armload.

  Then she went back for more.

  “How many people do you think are coming to Damien’s with me?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s not going to be just you, sweetheart,” Hannah said, picking up a large handgun. She held it up and pointed it at my head. I glared at her.

  Valle gasped.

  “Just a joke, little Pink,” she said, lowering it.

  “Very funny,” he said.

  “Here, you take one, too.” She passed one to Valle. He took it from her delicately, as if the thing might explode with a single touch.

  “It’s not a grenade,” Hannah said. “Just hold it like this.” She demonstrated, and he followed along.

  A grenade.

  It hadn’t been so long since the handheld explosives had been a major concern of mine and Alex’s. I peeked around the door and was soon shooed away by Janeen, who was bringing out a variety of assault weapons.

  Soon enough, the pedestal was piled high with every gun in the place, more than twenty in all.

  I picked up the smallest one I could find, then started rummaging through one of the closets, looking for something to wear that might conceal it.

  But maybe that was overkill. He knew we were coming for him. Why bother hiding?

  “I don’t know about this,” Valle said, still awkwardly holding onto the large revolver Hannah had passed him. “Maybe I should just go ahead and talk to him first. We know each other, you know. Maybe I never knew just how evil he was, but I’ve always known that he wasn’t a good man. Maybe I can offer him something in exchange.”

  “Offer him what, exactly?” Melanie asked.

  “Her,” he said, indicating me.

  “Are you insane?” Melanie said. “If you’re going to do that, she may as well just go in all alone.”

  “Maybe, but he wants her. I’ve seen his face when he’s around her. I could be like a negotiator.”

  “No. No way,” she said. “That’s insane. Riley.” She turned to me. “You know that won’t work.”

  “Well, I don’t like the idea of not confronting him first on my own, but Valle has a point. Why not try to secure the release of all those people he has in exchange for me?”

  Suddenly, the idea of dying so that so many of my friends could live didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

  “I like the idea,” I said. “Do you think you’ll be safe?”

  Valle laughed.

  “What do you think, my love? Would any of us be safe there tonight? Attending one of those parties is one thing. A private audience is quite another.”

  I nodded, thinking. It was dangerous, yes. Maybe even suicidal, but he had a point.

  “Are you sure you’re willing to risk your life for this?” I asked.

  Valle smiled a sad, forlorn smile.

  “I wasn’t able to risk it for Audrey,” he said. “I may as well risk it for her double.”

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Valle, you’ll go in first. Then, Hanna
h and I will—”

  “Hannah and you will what?” Melanie asked.

  “You need to stay,” I said.

  “What? Why?”

  “You’re the only one who knows how the jammers work,” Valle said. “And I left her instructions this time, too, about how to build one from scratch. If we all go down, we’re going to need someone who knows how to move forward. That needs to be you.”

  “No, way,” she said. “I won’t let you do it on your own.”

  “You have to, Mel,” I said. “There isn’t anyone else.”

  “Yeah,” Hannah piped up. “You stay. I’ll go instead.”

  “You’re nuts!” Melanie said. “He’ll kill you.”

  “Ha! Far from it,” she said. “He’s firmly got the top spot on my kill list. Besides, he never wanted to kill me, just hurt me.” She cocked the gun. “This time, I’m gonna make him feel it.”

  I was suddenly reminded of Wilson back at the burn, how he’d been stomped to death by all those workers.

  It seemed a death that would be becoming of Damien.

  “I agree,” I said. “Mel, you know you have to stay. You’re their leader. You can’t walk into a situation like this. It doesn’t have anything to do with you or the Volunteers. This is my death sentence, not yours. You’re not coming.”

  She stood glaring at me, but she knew I was right. We all did.

  “Well,” Janeen said. “That’s settled. Melanie, shall we?”

  She gestured to the door.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Melanie said.

  “Just make sure they take Audrey’s chip from my head when it’s over, okay? The Volunteers will need financing.”

  “You’re not dead yet, my dear,” Valle said. “Shall we get moving?”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  I didn’t bother to say goodbye. They weren’t my people anymore. The new Volunteers belonged to Melanie, not me. It was funny to think that two hours ago my biggest concern was offending them with my wealth.

  Curious how things could change on a dime.

  Albert took it slow. People were out, and I was vaguely aware that it must be the weekend.

  I wondered what we would find at Damien’s, if his home was somehow transformed into a house of horrors. Maybe he kept the bodies somehow, somewhere he could admire his handiwork.