by Wes Markin
Ayden nodded.
“Why? What do you intend to do?” Gabriel said.
“You mean, what do we intend to do,” Jake said. “There’s a plan.”
“We’re police. There’s procedure―”
“Really? Don’t make me laugh! Fuck your procedure. Tonight, all four of us standing here are just going to do the right thing.”
19
JAKE’S CELL PHONE was on silent. After it’d vibrated for the third time in his pocket, he removed it and saw he had several missed calls and text messages from Piper. He stared at the screen, and as they neared Stinson Lake, the reception bars dwindled. He toyed with the idea of phoning her before he was out of range, telling her he was fine, asking how she was coping after her experience in the Taps earlier, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Just like Sheila had on so many occasions in their marriage, Piper would immediately see through Jake’s pathetic attempts to conceal his anxiety. She would immediately know something was very wrong, and no one deserved to discover such an awful truth alone. He needed to be with her.
Even if he could lock away the truth forever, he wouldn’t. She deserved to know that members of her biological family were alive and close by. Roles reversed, he’d expect the same courtesy.
After Ayden and Gabriel had parked their cars, the four of them walked silently down a long muddy track. Ayden led the way with a headtorch, but they all had Maglites. Nobody spoke—not because they valued a stealthy approach, but rather because Jake didn’t really want to share words with Ayden or Gabriel. Truth be known, he was disgusted by their existences and saw them only as a means to stop a more malevolent force.
Eventually, they broke from a small, wooded patch and reached the water’s edge.
Gabriel slipped, but Lillian reached out to steady him in time.
Jake felt some disappointment. Yes, it may have compromised their approach, but to see the impotent chief of police floundering in the lake would have been some consolation.
Ayden pushed a small, wooden boat from behind a tree to the water’s edge. Everyone, apart from him, climbed in.
“Remember, you must row directly across,” Ayden said. “The opening in the wall is only ten feet wide. Remember to moor it tightly to the post or you may have to swim back. Do you have the compass?”
Jake patted his pocket and nodded.
“Remember, it is almost a mile and a half from the house to the pit. It stinks like you wouldn’t believe, but you have to stay there. Be patient.”
“We will. You’re doing the right thing,” Jake said as Ayden pushed them into the water.
“I know. I just wish I’d done it a long time ago.”
“No one more so than Maddie’s family,” Lillian said.
The boat drifted out. “Good luck,” Ayden said and turned to head to his vehicle.
As Jake rowed across the Stinson, he scanned the lake flecked with the white light of the moon. In the distance, he saw the watchtower where Jotham had sat several days back when Lillian had first told him about the MacLeoid family.
He took a deep breath and rowed hard.
Ayden stepped onto the back porch.
“You took your time, son,” Jotham said, leaning forward in his chair. Reclining was not an option with his diced back.
“You told me you had it under control.”
Jotham drank from a hipflask. “We did, but there’s always room for an extra pair of hands.”
“Even when you have Anthony helping?”
“Ah …” Jotham smiled. “I see.”
“See what?”
“Anthony. He bothers you.”
“Not at―”
“Surrounded by the flames of jealousy, the jealous one winds up, like a scorpion, turning the poisoned sting against himself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nietzsche.”
“I don’t know it.”
Wincing, Jotham rose slowly from his seat. He groaned and took a deep breath when he’d made it to full stretch. “Should I be worried about your poisoned sting, Ayden? Have you turned it against yourself?”
“Sorry, Dad, I’m completely lost. If you’re worried about me being jealous of Anthony, you really oughtn’t to be. I’m not.”
Jotham shuffled toward his son. “Listen, my little scorpion. Anthony is a good soldier.” He put a hand on Ayden’s shoulder. “But that’s all he is. A soldier. You’re my son.”
His father’s eyes held a gentleness Ayden had never seen before. He felt a numbing sensation in the pit of his stomach. Not knowing how to respond, he simply nodded.
Jotham put his hand to Ayden’s cheek. “Everything I do, I do from love. You know that, don’t you, son?”
No … no, I don’t.
“Boyd did the same for me. It felt unfair at the time. Actually, that’s an understatement! It felt fucking merciless, but not a day goes by now that I don’t thank him for it. Because of him, I have all this. And one day, it will be yours. Not Anthony’s, little scorpion, yours―”
A flare burst open in the sky.
Jotham dropped his hand from Ayden’s face and turned to look out.
Another flare ruptured. His land glowed red.
“What’s happening?”
“Flares,” Ayden said.
“I know that, son. I’m not a fucking idiot. But who the hell is setting them off? And more importantly, who the hell is on my land?”
A third flare rose.
“Anthony!” Jotham shouted. “Anthony!”
Anthony came running onto the back porch. “Yes, sir?”
Jotham reached for his rifle by the chair he had been sitting in. “Anthony, get your rifle. Someone’s on my land.”
“Shit! Yes … two seconds.” He ran back in.
He turned back to Ayden. The gentleness in his eyes from before was gone. “You stay back and call for backup.” He raised his chin to focus on the red sky.
So predictable! You don’t want me by your side; you never have, and you never will.
Anthony returned onto the porch with his rifle.
“When the cavalry arrives,” Jotham said to Ayden, “you march out to join us.”
Ayden nodded. Goodbye, Father.
Jotham and his good soldier headed to locate the source of the flares.
Gabriel, the first to crumble, had vomited into the pit.
Jake had gone down to his knees to fight a wave of nausea. He’d seen his fair share of atrocity in his time and had a strong constitution, but this was another level.
What had been most disturbing when they shone that torch into the pit wasn’t the sheer number of bodies—some skeletal, some still rotting, some still fresh—nor was it the contorted expressions that spoke of agonizing death; neither was it the emaciated Amber Colson sitting by the wooden kennel, playing with her tangled hair and humming to herself; but rather, it was the sight of that young girl, Maddie Thompson, identified by Lillian. Her young, pale face forever frozen in anguish.
Lillian had taken it better than both Jake and Gabriel. She’d unzipped Jake’s backpack while he knelt over the black, twisted, and still beating heart of Jotham’s monstrous world and removed the flare gun.
Her three flares lit the sky.
“Come and get us, fucker,” she said while Gabriel vomited into the pit again, and Jake balled his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms.
It soon became obvious to Jotham that they were heading toward the pit.
“Sir,” Anthony said, “this feels wrong. We should wait for Cole and everyone else.”
“That would probably be the safest option,” Jotham said, keeping a steady pace, “but no, we continue.”
“I don’t understand how anyone could have found the pit.”
“Never underestimate those around you, Anthony. Plenty of resourceful people are out there, and no fortress is impenetrable, even this one.”
“But this one is so strong.”
“Yes, it is. B
ut a true fortress is built around fear, Anthony. And there are those who have chosen not to fear.”
“They must be fucking crazy.”
Jotham halted.
Anthony stopped and turned to his master. “Are you okay, sir?”
“Have I been wrong about you, Anthony?”
“Sorry, sir? I-I don’t understand what I―”
“You called our enemies crazy.”
“But they are, aren’t they? Surely you see that.”
“I see anything but, Anthony. Bring forth my resourceful and fearless enemies, and, in the words of Roosevelt, ‘I ask you to judge me by the enemies I have made.’”
Anthony nodded. “Yes, sir. I apologize. They’re not crazy.”
Jotham smiled. “I accept your apology, Anthony. Now, shall we go kill them?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jotham marched toward the pit, clutching his rifle strap to stop it bouncing off his sore back.
Jake had been standing with his back to the pit for some time now, listening to Amber Colson’s gentle humming and staring at a glorious full moon. He thought of Paul Conway, the young boy in Wiltshire who’d been caught by the debris from a car bomb that fateful evening. He remembered holding the boy’s broken body. All his fault. Was Gabriel right? Was he just another Bickford? Another product of a diseased line responsible for the most tragic of deaths? His thoughts turned to his own boy Frank and wondered what he was doing right now.
Jotham and a young man he didn’t recognize stepped from the woodland.
The young man had his rifle at the ready, whereas Jotham didn’t. Despite this, Jake kept his eyes trained on the old bastard. He had no real interest in his soldier or in any of the drug lord’s puppets. Cut off the head of the snake, and the body will die.
“Well, you’re right where we need you to be, Mr Bickford,” Jotham said.
“Pettman,” Jake said.
“Pettman, Bickford. Do you think the pit cares?”
“I care.”
“And that’s your problem really, isn’t it? Caring.”
“It’s your problem now.”
“How so?”
“Come closer and find out.”
Jotham laughed and looked at his young soldier, who smiled but struggled to force out a laugh.
Jake took a deep breath. Nerves in the enemy were not a good thing when they were pointing a loaded weapon right at you.
Jotham looked around. “Do you expect me to believe you came alone?”
Jake shrugged.
“You know, son, in a way, I like you. A lot. I’ve seen many things in my time but never anything like this. Look at you! Look at where you stand! You’re the enemy I never had, the enemy I doubted the existence of. I’m in awe of you.”
“I’m disgusted by you.”
“Why? Think about it, son. I’m a driven man; you’re a driven man. Enemies can be so much more powerful together. I could use you. Hell, you could use me, for all I care. No one has to lose here. You don’t have to lose here.”
“You killed a child. That was the moment you lost, when your empire fell. Every second since then has been borrowed.”
“Child? Come on, man! She was fifteen!”
“A child.”
“That may be the case where you come from, son, but here, fifteen doesn’t make you a child. I certainly was no child at fifteen. I could take you to Sharon’s Edge one night. There are fifteen-year-old girls there who don’t behave like children.”
Jake eyed the young soldier. “You’ve the chance to walk away now. I’m not here for you. You may not believe this is over, but it is. You’re best trusting me on that.”
The soldier looked at Jotham then back at Jake. He shook his head.
“Don’t follow him,” Jake said. “You don’t want to go where this man is going.”
“Really?” Jotham said. “Unless you have an army with you, where do you think you’re sending me?”
Jake smiled. “Do you need me to answer that? You know exactly where you’re going, Jotham MacLeoid.”
Jotham shrugged. “Kill him, Anthony.”
“Before you do that, Anthony, let your master see what’s behind him.”
Jotham turned and gasped.
“Your fall,” Jake said, smiling over the burning glow in the distance.
“No! No! My son? Ayden!”
“Who do you think lit the fire, Jotham?”
Jotham turned, eyes wide and teeth bared. “You’re a fucking liar!”
Jake shook his head.
“He wouldn’t. He’s a MacLeoid!”
“He’s just another of your victims.”
“I won’t believe it!”
“Who do you think showed us the way in?”
“Kill him, Anthony! Kill him, now!”
His young soldier aimed―
Anthony’s head snapped sideways in a cloud of blood, his eyes rolled up, and he slumped to the ground.
Jotham rubbed at the blood in his eyes, and Jake charged. Jotham raised his own rifle, but Jake knocked it aside and drove his fist into the bastard’s throat. The child killer stumbled backward, clutching his neck.
Jake swooped in, disarmed him of the rifle and kicked his legs out from beneath him.
Jotham folded up on the ground.
Jake backpedaled and pointed the rifle at the choking, old man. It was possible he’d gone in hard enough to crush his windpipe.
Gabriel, who had ended Anthony, came up on one side of Jake and Lillian on the other. Together they watched Jotham struggle.
Eventually, the killer controlled his breathing and glared at them, his beard dripping with Anthony’s blood. “Three cops? You serious?”
“We’re here as concerned citizens,” Lillian said.
“So, now what?” Jotham said, sneering.
“We watch your empire burn,” Gabriel said.
“I thought you’d have more sense, Chief Jewell! I always knew you were a slave to your impulses, but to actually go ahead and make a move on me?”
Gabriel struck Jotham across the mouth with his rifle. “Shut up, Jo.”
Jotham spat blood then eyed Jake. “Has the good chief not told you about his impulses?”
Gabriel pulled back his rifle to swing again, but Jake put his arm in front of him. “No more, Jewell.”
“Yes, Chief, you like them young, don’t you?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Gabriel strained against Jake’s arm.
“Remember those fifteen-year-old girls at Sharon’s Edge?”
“You’re a fucking liar!” Gabriel broke through Jake’s resistance, but Jake was quick enough to seize his shoulders before he swung for Jotham again.
“Enough, Jewell!”
Gabriel grunted.
Jake lifted a hand from Gabriel’s shoulder and pointed into the distance. “Look. It’s done.”
“Your empire is gone,” Gabriel said, seemingly calming.
The old drug lord turned toward the inferno destroying his world. “Those you answer to will be crawling all over this place soon.”
“They’ll find the pit and put an end to your soulless creation,” Jake said. “They’ll return the bodies to the families, and Amber, your wife? Hopefully, they will try to give her some kind of peace.”
“She deserves no peace.”
“That was never your call to make.”
“Fuck you. I made it.”
“Yes, you did.”
“You know what she was responsible for?”
“I do, but one of your children survived. Maybe you should have turned your attention to her instead of building this abomination.”
“Ah, so you know everything, do you?”
“Unfortunately.”
“She’s my seed, son.” He laughed. “Are you ready for a MacLeoid in your life?”
“No more,” Jake said. “It’s time, Jewell.”
Gabriel walked around the back of Jotham.
The old man tracked him with his eyes. “No
cage can hold me, Chief.”
“We know that,” Jake said. “That’s why it ends tonight.”
Jotham laughed. “Three officers? Two of whom are supposed to be upstanding citizens of Blue Falls. Execution? I don’t buy it!”
Gabriel knelt behind him and forced a gag into his mouth.
“Silence,” Jake said. “You don’t deserve any last words.”
Gabriel tightened it sharply.
Jotham winced.
As the police chief tied it off, he leaned in and whispered something into Jotham’s ear.
Jotham’s eyes widened. He tried to climb to his feet, but Gabriel stood and kicked him onto his side. The monster tried to shout through his gag.
Jake shot him in the forehead. He lowered Jotham’s rifle and let it fall to the ground. “Roll Jotham and Anthony into the pit and set off another flare. And throw all the rifles into the Stinson. I’ll see you at the boat.” As Jake trudged away, his thoughts turned to his ancestors, the Bickfords, and the dead children they had discovered after they left.
Then, far in the distance, he heard emergency vehicle sirens. When they arrived at the killing pit, they would find tragedy. But, with the death of Jotham MacLeoid, hopefully, they may find some kind of hope.
20
SEVERAL MILES OUT, Ayden sat and watched the home where he’d spent more than twenty unhappy years burn. Then, smiling and feeling somewhat cleansed, he headed into town. He’d already decided to spend the night at a Blue Falls motel. Going to his mother, putting her in any danger, was not an option. He passed the Taps, which was closed following the death of Justin Stone, and continued onward to the motel.
With the MacLeoid empire in tatters, he’d be best taking a sharp exit from Blue Falls. There’d be plenty of people with grudges against his family in this town, and it was a perfect time for them to crawl out of the woodwork. The Thompson brothers, Devin especially, would be rabid for vengeance. And rightly so.
However, leaving Blue Falls without his sister Kayla wasn’t an option. She was still alive. He just knew it. She’d run for a reason, and there was no need to be afraid any longer. The laboratory, the dogs, and the killing pit were gone. Their cruel father was no more.