Survive The Fall | Book 2 | Madness Rising

by Shupert, Derek

  His face was flushed with sweat. He leaned against a nearby tree. The back of his head rested against the bark as his mouth slagged open.

  “I’m tired and thirsty,” Johnson said, his tongue dangling over his bottom lip. “We’ve been trudging through these damn woods and hills for hours. I’m just taking a moment to rest.”

  Russell was thirsty as well. His mouth was arid, gums sticky to the touch. He was getting dehydrated. Both Max and Butch panted hard with their tongues dangling from their maws.

  The once cool breeze that offered a bit of reprieve had ceased. The air had grown stagnant, adding to the cumbersome trek through the foothills.

  “I wonder if there’s a stream close by or a lake of some sort?” Russell skimmed the dense, wooded area. He couldn’t recall any such lakes or water sources when flying over the mountains, but he also wasn’t looking for any at the time.

  Johnson shrugged. “There are a number of small lakes and numerous streams that run through the mountains, but not any in the direction we’re heading.”

  Of course not, Russell thought.

  “How far out of the way is it?”

  Johnson pointed to the east, then said, “If I remember correctly, I think there’s a stream over that way. I don’t believe it’s too far from where we are now, but I’m not sure. To be honest, does it really matter? We need water or this little quest of yours is going to come to a grinding halt sooner rather than later.”

  He was right. The last thing Russell wanted or needed was to get sick from not having enough fluids in his system. His body was already punishing him for the lack of liquor in his belly. He felt nauseous, and continued to sweat more than he thought he should be.

  The tremors in his hands remained and felt as though they had grown some in intensity. It was hard to tell if that was true or not since he found himself struggling to focus as the day wore on.

  “All right. We head to the stream, lake, whatever, get some water, and we’re back on the move right after that.” Russell said.

  Johnson tilted his head, then saluted Russell with two fingers as he pushed off the tree. “Aye, aye, captain.”

  The deputy’s comment, and heavy indignation, wasn’t lost on Russell. He didn’t much care as long as Johnson did as he was told and didn’t try anything else.

  They hiked a bit farther through the rugged terrain that was filled with rocky, steep slopes and deep ditches. It was slow going at best, but there wasn’t much choice in the matter.

  A thought gelled inside Russell’s head.

  What if Johnson was leading him astray and away from Cathy?

  Russell curbed that thought, seeing as the deputy hadn’t had any sort of fluids for some time. The amount of walking they were doing, and the sweat dripping from his tired face, he needed the water just as much as Russell did.

  Johnson slogged up the rocky face of the hill. His movement was more lethargic and slower paced the longer they went. Russell was battling the same fatigue, but he had ample incentive to keep going, despite the lack of food and fluids in his system.

  Both dogs raced up the hill past Russell. Johnson flinched as the beasts darted past him to the top of the hill. They stopped, and turned toward Russell and Johnson, panting hard.

  “See. They’re more concerned with getting some water than with you,” Russell said.

  Johnson didn’t respond, but kept climbing up the slope to the top. Russell followed, but at a much slower pace. His legs burned. Every muscle fiber stung with each step he took. Both feet felt as though they were encased in cement.

  “Man, and I thought I felt like crap,” Johnson said. “You’re looking worse as the day rolls on.”

  Russell glanced at the deputy as he dug his hands into the hard dirt and crawled the rest of the way. “Yeah, well, we had a car, but you messed that up, so here we are.”

  “I’m not talking just about that, cowboy,” Johnson replied as Russell breathed heavily. “You’re looking a bit green under the gills. Plus, that tremor in your hands isn’t getting any better. Going cold turkey is a bitch. It would be a shame if you got too sick or weak out here away from any help.”

  Russell stood up straight, then shoved Johnson forward. “Move and keep the comments to yourself. You should worry more about your own wellbeing than mine.”

  Johnson stumbled as his boots raked across the dirt. He caught himself before falling face first to the ground.

  “Hey, I’m just looking out for you, is all,” Johnson responded with a smirk. “I am an officer of the law.”

  Sure. Whatever.

  Russell didn’t find the comment amusing in the least. He rolled his eyes. A few deep breaths to refill his tortured lungs and he fell in line behind the deputy.

  Johnson snickered and continued on down the hill with Butch and Max following close behind.

  The nausea Russell battled built with every second that ticked by. It wasn’t much at first, just a slight annoyance, but the sickening feeling gained in strength. He didn’t have the time or luxury to remedy whatever it was that made him feel ill with being out in the middle of nowhere.

  He jogged down the hill and caught up with Johnson and the dogs who were standing in front of a large tree that had fallen across a gaping gorge. Max toed the edge, and peered down to the bottom, then backed away.

  Johnson surveyed the log, then the gorge as Russell walked up next to him. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SARAH

  It was darker now in the apartment than it was before. What little bit of light that bled through the curtains had lessened and cast the apartment deeper into blackness.

  Sarah groaned in discomfort from her side. The base of her skull throbbed and ached. She winced in pain as she tried to lift her head from the floor.

  A searing shot of agony punished her. Her eyes clamped shut. She didn’t remember hitting her head that hard, but perhaps she did.

  She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it through pursed lips. Her eyes cracked open with a glassy tint to her vision.

  David!

  A jolt of fear ripped through her body like a shockwave as she remembered Man-bun’s threat of making David pay for her misdeeds. Her heart hammered inside her chest as her pulse spiked. Panic washed over her like a weighted blanket.

  Sarah blinked twice, trying to clear out the haze that hampered her sight. Her head felt heavy as she forced it off the floor.

  It was difficult to see or make anything out within the murk. She spied no dark mass within the space or on the floor near the entrance to Mandy’s apartment.

  David had been taken away by Man-bun. There was no trace of either one. For now, she was alone, and that didn’t make her feel any better.

  The guilt of her actions latched onto her like a leech. Each breath she took reminded her that David had probably taken his last. She didn’t want to think of how he met his end. It was too much to bear.

  Anger and rage swelled inside Sarah’s body. She tried to press her hands to the floor, but couldn’t. Her wrists were bound together behind her back with a zip tie. She tried to pull her wrists free, but the plastic chewed into her skin.

  She rocked, struggling to sit up straight. At last, she managed to do so. The room spun. Her stomach churned. She sat there and took a moment to let the queasy sensation subside.

  Sarah clamped her eyes shut, clearing out the subtle film hampering her vision. A wave of sadness crashed into her as she wept. Her head fell forward as Man-bun materialized from Mandy’s room.

  His menacing, ghastly gray figure loomed in the shadows and startled Sarah. She whimpered, then flinched as she leaned back against the coffee table. It scooted across the wooden planks, creating a boisterous sound within the silent apartment.

  “You bastard. What have you done with my friend?” Sarah said, demanding answers.

  Man-bun stood still and didn’t answer. It made Sarah think that perhaps he wasn’t really there
, and she was having a mental breakdown. Imagining the whole thing.

  “Your cop buddy has been taken care of. You can thank yourself for that,” he answered. “We’re not going to have anymore heroic acts or anything else that could jeopardize others that you care about, are we? Say, like your dear, sweet friend, Mandy.”

  Her face twisted into a scowl that was concealed by the darkness of the apartment. A swarm of emotions cumulated inside of her as she focused on the shadowy blob. Sarah wanted nothing more than to yell or tell him to go to hell, but didn’t want to risk Mandy’s life.

  “No,” Sarah replied.

  Man-bun traced across the apartment to the front door. He leaned in close.

  Sarah’s head throbbed with a dull, nagging pain as she watched his every move. It made it difficult to turn her head without cringing in discomfort.

  “As I said before, no one is coming to help you. When we leave here, and we are, you will keep your mouth shut, not make any sudden outburst, or try anything else. Am I clear?” Man-bun asked.

  Sarah nodded.

  “Am I clear, Mrs. Cage?” Man-bun asked again as his voice rose an octave.

  “Yes, I understand.” Sarah replied in a curt manner.

  “Good. It’s time for us to leave, now. Because of your actions, you have put me behind schedule and complicated matters. That, Mrs. Cage, will not do.” Man-bun strode toward Sarah.

  She leaned back against the edge of the coffee table. Her body was tense, muscles taut as he reached for her arm. She didn’t want to go, but feared Mandy being hurt, or worse.

  Sarah leaned away from his hand as he tried to grab her arm. She knew better, but her body reacted on instinct.

  “Mrs. Cage, I thought we had an understanding here,” he calmly said.

  Sarah bit her lip as she twisted and turned away from the man. Sharp, stinging strikes of pain lanced up through the base of her skull and filled her head.

  Man-bun grabbed her arm and jerked her off the floor. Despite having her wrists restrained behind her back, Sarah pulled away and fought to break free.

  “No. I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said.

  Panic consumed Sarah. She kicked at the man’s shins. Each blow made him growl and move away.

  Man-bun slapped Sarah across the side of her face with the back of his hand. Her head snapped to the side. A yelp fled her lips. She dumped over the couch in a heap of dead weight.

  “Jesus Christ,” Man-bun said, with a heavy sigh.

  Sarah laid on the couch, trying to figure a way out of the mess she was in. She was a fighter, and not a victim. She would rather die fighting for her life than to go with him and suffer a much worse fate.

  Man-bun grabbed Sarah’s arm and yanked her off the couch.

  Sarah was helpless to stop him or try anything else to get away. Her brain was mush, and her head bobbled about as if fixed on a spring. She couldn’t think straight.

  The brute’s hands felt like stones–his grip was firm. The tips of his fingers dug into her skin. She feared more defiance would bring more wrath her way.

  Sarah struggled to speak, but it came out as nothing more than pure gibberish. She could hear her attacker moving, but couldn’t tell what he was doing.

  He crammed a piece of cloth into Sarah’s mouth. “This is just an added measure since you can’t seem to listen and keep your mouth shut.”

  Sarah spoke through the foul-tasting fabric. It made her want to gag. It had an odd smell that she couldn’t place, and she was afraid to try.

  Man-bun bent over and retrieved the blanket from the back of the couch. He draped the soft cover over Sarah, concealing most of her frame. He grabbed her bicep and hoisted her body over his broad shoulder with ease. She dangled like a rag doll as he turned toward the entrance of the apartment.

  Blood rushed to Sarah’s head and made it pulsate that much more. It hurt like hell, but she feared that was the least painful thing coming her way.

  The dizziness grew with each step he took. Her body swayed from side to side under the blanket. She was at his mercy, and could only wait to see what he had in store for her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SARAH

  Sarah wallowed in a mixture of emotions as she rocked back and forth. The blanket was still draped over her body, hiding the outside world from her view. It felt like she was in a car from the sounds that filled her ears and the rigid surface she was lying on. The grumble of the engine, squealing tires, and the hissing of the radio bleating from the speakers in the door near her head indicated as much.

  The piece of fabric crammed into her mouth had been removed, giving her a reprieve from the bad taste that filled the fibers. Sarah licked around her lips; they were dry and coarse. The inside of her mouth was just as arid.

  Her hands were still bound by the zip ties that cut into her wrists. Any subtle shift of her arms to try and slip free stung and caused her pain.

  Sarah’s jaw felt swollen from the backhand she received from Man-bun. Opening and closing her mouth hurt and made her wince. The only saving grace was the haze coating her eyes had waned, and she could see without things being blurred or distorted.

  The blanket covered only a portion of her head. Light seeped in from around the edge just above her brow. Sarah wiggled her fingers, trying to capture a portion of the fabric between the digits. Her nails snagged the soft, plush blanket. She pulled the dense cover away from her head as she craned her neck. More light became visible as the blanket slipped past her eyes, then her nose. Wild strands of hair dangled in front of her face. Sarah huffed, then blew to clear the obstruction.

  She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light. Rocking her head back and forth, to help in removing the hair from in front of her face, only made the discomfort swell inside her skull.

  Sarah pressed the side of head to the backseat and closed her eyes as the nagging pain persisted. She focused on trying to find a way out of her current situation as the torment subsided.

  Man-bun fiddled with the radio, trying to find a station that wasn’t drowning in white noise. His fingers pressed the digital buttons and looped through the endless stations without stopping.

  The way his arm was situated, Sarah got a better look at the tattoo which only reaffirmed what she thought she saw inside the dark apartment. The Celtic branding on his flesh told the tale, but she didn’t know how it all connected. From Jess’s death, to Kinnerk’s goons, and now to Man-bun. They were all links in an ever-growing chain that was tightening around her body.

  She continued to move her arms up and down while keeping a watchful eye on her abductor. Wetness coated her hands and forearm as a searing twinge tore through her arms. The plastic was biting into her flesh. Despite the discomfort, she fought on.

  It was hard to gauge where they were heading. All she could see through the front windshield was the gray, cloudy sky. A random signal and street sign flashed before it vanished. She couldn’t make out the verbiage fast enough.

  Through the back passenger side window, the tops of buildings passed by which didn’t offer any additional help.

  Man-bun turned his head to the side, then dipped his chin as he worked the steering wheel. Sarah stopped moving her arms and stared at him. She got a better look at his face in the daylight.

  His skin was a mocha brown with a nicely trimmed black beard. His black hair was pulled tight with no wiry hairs visible. The one difference she did notice was a small scar on the right side of his cheek.

  “Well, look who’s stirring back there,” he said, with a wiry grin. “I took that gag out of your mouth. Didn’t need you suffocating or anything like that. Just needed to keep you silent until we got out of the building and into the car.”

  Sarah disregarded everything he said. She stared at him. Short and curt, she asked, “Where are you taking me?”

  Man-bun faced front and center, but glanced at her from the rearview mirror. “Well, you’ll find out soon enough as long as this mess of stalled cars doesn’t
slow us down. I’d be willing to bet that the majority of them ran out of gas since the pumps aren’t working. Fortunately, I fueled up before the power went out. Lucky, I guess.”

  Small talk. Really?

  Sarah didn’t care about what Man-bun was saying. He didn’t answer her question, so his words fell on deaf ears. Sitting there, a thought gelled inside her head. He had thrown her in the back seat instead of the trunk. She was glad and all, but it just seemed like a high risk considering he was kidnapping her.

  “I’m curious, why didn’t you put me in the trunk?” Sarah posed. “Seems to me that you’re at a big risk of getting caught if we have to stop.”

  The smile remained on his face as he snickered under his breath. “You’re still clinging to that razor thin piece of hope, aren’t you? When I carried your body from that apartment, do you know how many people tried to help you? None. Zero. Zilch. That’s how many. I have no doubts that any who might have witnessed what was happening wanted to, but fear has it’s place, especially when you can’t call for help.”

  Sarah rolled to her right and continued trying to free her wrists. She hoped Man-bun wasn’t the wiser. Listening to him speak, he seemed confident that he was in the clear and had the upper hand.

  “That’s a pretty cavalier attitude to have,” she said. “I mean, what would happen if I flipped over onto my back and busted out this side window. I think someone, maybe even a cop, would be wondering what was happening.”

  Man-bun nodded, but still, he didn’t seem concerned. “That is true. Someone might wonder what’s going on and try to interfere, which, to be honest, wouldn’t end well for them. After all, you already have a body count going by trying to be a hero and not following the rules. I would say ask your cop buddy, but, oh yeah, he’s dead.”

  Sarah snarled at the snide comment. It boiled her blood, and made her that much more determined to break free.

  “I’m sure you’ve seen the state of the city,” he said. “The police have bigger matters on their hands and as of right now, what I’m doing is at the low end of the totem pole. We’ve already had this discussion, but I do commend you for trying to throw me off my game.”