Prey for Us

by Geoffrey Neil

  She moved to the center of the shop where the work block was normally located and used her phone to take a series of photos of the shop, including Thane’s workspace and the bottom of the partially opened garage door.

  On the floor beside a cabinet, she found the opened sack of talcum powder Thane must have used. She grabbed a fistful and sprinkled and smeared it, covering her tracks as she backed toward the entryway.

  After exiting the garage, she sprinkled more powder outside the front door and smeared it just as Thane had. She thought for a moment and then went to the back door and of the house. After a final listen for any sound coming from the garage, she went inside. “Hello?”

  The house was quiet. She cleaned herself off at the kitchen sink, and then checked her watch. Her escapade in the garage had used only 2 to 3 minutes of the 10 to 15 minutes Thane said he would be in the sub-lair. She left the kitchen and walked down the hall, turning into the main bedroom. Once again, the bedsheets on the mattress were tangled, and two torn condom wrappers lay on the floor a short distance away. Three empty beer cans, one of them crushed, had replaced the shot glasses she remembered seeing beside the head of the mattress. Either Thane was renting out his place as an Airbnb, or she had a great deal more to learn about him.

  She decided to help him by making the bed. When she pulled back the sheets, she found two used condoms underneath. She grabbed a paper towel from a loose roll that stood on end beside the beer cans and picked up the condoms and their wrappers, discarding them in the bathroom trash across the hall. She returned to the bedroom and finished making the bed, tucking the sheets tight. She flipped the pillow and fluffed it, centering it on the mattress.

  In the hallway, she opened a linen closet. Thane’s bedding supplies were sparse, but she found a faded blue sheet with worn edges at the bottom of a small stack of bedding. She took it to the kitchen where she used a knife to cut the sheet into arm-length strips, tucking each into her bag.

  Looking out the window, she saw no sign of Thane yet, so she hurried out the front of the house and jogged to her car parked at the end of the block. She opened the back and retrieved a stun gun and some other small items, concealing them in her bag before hurrying back to the house. She went inside and double-checked the front door lock. When she exited out the back door, the large sliding garage door still rested on the brick. Thane hadn’t returned yet. She took a seat on the step and waited.

  Her phone buzzed with a text message from Clay.

  Waylon drives a red Mercedes

  Thanks, I already have him.

  How?

  Long story.

  Don’t kill him.

  If he doesn’t make me.

  You owe me. Protect Thane & wait for me. I’m on my way.

  Don’t come here. All under control. Stay away.

  Chapter 18

  A HISS CAME from the garage door opening sending talcum powder swirling into a cloud that slowly drifted across the driveway before it faded from sight. Thane’s fingers curled under the door and raised it knee-high.

  Morana stood, slung her handbag over her shoulder, and approached slowly enough to avoid startling him.

  Thane knelt and looked under the door. “Did anyone come?” he asked.

  “No, but the front door was unlocked.”

  “You went inside?” he said, crawling out from under the door.

  “Uh, yes, we agreed that if the police came back, I needed to handle them. How can I do that without being able to hear the doorbell?”

  “I never gave you permission to go inside.” Thane hurried to the back door of the house.

  Morana chased after him. “Thane, what’s going on?”

  Thane flung the door open and ran inside.

  Morana followed him entering the kitchen just as he disappeared around the corner. “Thane?”

  She followed the sound of his footsteps to the hallway.

  Thane stood outside the bedroom door, looking in. “Did you go into this bedroom?” he said,

  “Yes. I made your bed for you.”

  Thane grabbed his hair. “You shouldn’t have done that,” the words squeezed through his teeth.

  “I was only trying to be helpful.”

  “You need to go make the bed like it was. Exactly like it was. Hurry.”

  “What? That’s impossible. It was a mess.”

  Thane palmed his forehead. “You know how important privacy is to me.”

  “Thane I’m confused. If privacy is so important to you, why would you leave your front door unlocked, especially after being physically threatened?”

  Thane forced his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “It’s complicated.”

  “Do you have someone special in your life that you haven’t mentioned? If so, there’s no need to hide it. I’m happy for you.”

  “No, it’s not like that. I’m only saying you had no right to go in there.” Thane pointed into the bedroom.

  “I apologize.” She stepped closer to him. “The stress on your face right now… I’m worried about you. If something is going on that could be dangerous to you, I want to know about it.” She took his hand. “Don’t forget that based on the very personal experiences we’ve already shared with each other and that we’ve agreed to keep secret.”

  “What happens inside this house doesn’t concern you. Especially in the bedroom. Please stop asking.”

  “Understood.” Morana stepped back with her hands up.

  “We have to get back to the garage and focus on Waylon.” He led her to the large roll-up door, knelt and crawled into the garage. He motioned for Morana to follow.

  She got down and rolled inside. As she stood and brushed talcum powder from her legs and hips, she saw the hoisted Gateway block. Despite having seen it before, the immense cube suspended in midair was every bit as mesmerizing as it had been the first time.

  “Did you get Waylon’s phone?” she asked.

  “No, but he’s available for conversation.”

  Thane went to the entryway and shifted the work block, creating a one-inch opening to the trap floor shaft.

  “Why are you opening that?”

  “That block creates a virtually airtight seal. We have to vent the shaft or the trap floor block cannot descend to the sub-lair.” Thane went back to the large garage door, lowered it to the brick, and padlocked it. He went to the Gateway block mold and hopped down into it. “Hurry, we can’t waste time.”

  Morana came to the edge of the mold and jumped in with less trepidation than before, still looking up suspiciously at the Gateway block. She went to Thane and stood face to face with him on the lift. It began to sink almost before she had put her full weight on it.

  Morana put her arms around him and held him close.

  Thane kept his eyes upward, gauging their progress. “I never imagined wanting the lift to move faster, but now I do,” he said.

  “Can’t you lower the Gateway block back in place before we reach the bottom?”

  “No, the principle I explained about the trap floor block also applies here. Think of this as a rather blunt example of Newton’s third law of motion—that every action must have an equal and opposite reaction. In this case, the change in air pressure below the Gateway block must be equalized by the air pressure above it. Without venting the virtually perfect seal in the shaft by opening the garage door, the garage windows would blow out, or worse, the lift platform would lock up, and we’d be entombed in this shaft without my tools.”

  “Please don’t let that happen.”

  Thane smiled.

  The shaft grew darker as they descended deeper into the earth’s fist. When they slowed to a stop, the sub-lair lift chamber lights blinked on. Thane and Morana stepped off the lift. Almost immediately, air rushed through the shaft and into the sub-lair, blowing their clothing as the Gateway block dropped into its mold a hundred feet above them.

  Morana could not detect anything that Tha
ne might have done to trigger the Gateway block’s movement. She decided not to ask—this time.

  Thane led her from the chamber to a short corridor she hadn’t seen before. He gently drew his fingertips along the wall until they came to a dead end. He pressed both hands against a wall block the size of a door. It smoothly pivoted with no sound, opening to another chamber that was pitch dark inside.

  Morana grinned. “Amazing.”

  Thane said, “Wait here.” He stepped into the chamber and pushed the door block with one hand. It pivoted and stopped, sealing him inside.

  Morana waited for over a minute before she gently pushed the side of the block. It wouldn’t pivot. A thin seam that outlined the block blended so well with the adjacent blocks that she couldn’t have distinguished that block as a door if she hadn’t kept her hand on it. She pressed harder and then shoved, putting all her weight into it. The block didn’t budge. “Funny, Thane… Are you coming out?” she yelled. She put her ear to the seam and held her breath. If Thane answered, she couldn’t hear it.

  Moments later, the door block pivoted, opening to a chamber that was now lit. Waylon’s shouts echoed inside. “…tired of your little game, Sykes.”

  Morana’s jaw clenched.

  Thane ignored Waylon’s threat. “Come in,” he said to Morana.

  Inside the chamber, the ceiling, walls, and floors were carved with the same precision as all other surfaces in the sub-lair and were lit with the same thin strands of LED bulbs.

  “You have no idea the charges you are facing, little nigger.” Waylon’s voice was crystal-clear.

  Morana didn’t see him as she looked around what seemed to be an empty chamber. “Where is he?”

  “He’s up there,” Thane said, pointing to a corner of the ceiling on the opposite wall.

  Morana looked up and saw Waylon’s face pressed against a narrow opening that ran along the top of the far wall.

  “That wall that is supporting him is the base of the trap floor,” Thane said.

  Morana dropped her handbag beside the door and rushed toward Waylon. “You son of a bitch…”

  “Wait!” Thane said, rushing after her. He grabbed her arm.

  Waylon’s face pulled back into the darkness of the space.

  “It’s okay,” Thane said. “When he has no control, his words have no impact on me.”

  “Who’s the woman?” Waylon’s voice came through the dark opening.

  “She’s—”

  “I’m his girlfriend,” Morana answered.

  Thane smiled and looked down.

  “Right. You expect me to believe that?”

  Morana glared up at him. “Give me your phone.”

  Waylon laughed. “Not gonna happen.”

  “Do what she says. Give her the phone,” Thane shouted.

  Waylon scooted to the opening and slid his hand out, waving his phone a few times before pulling it back in. “You get me out of here, and you get my phone. But that’s not happening unless I see some daylight.”

  Morana raised up onto her toes, trying to see him through the darkness. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Thane, can you give Waylon and me some private time?”

  “What will you do?” Thane asked.

  “I’ll be persuasive.”

  “You’re hot, sweetie, but the most persuasive thing you can do is to open this hole. That’s the only thing that might persuade me to drop some of the charges you both are racking up.”

  “Please, Sweetheart, give us a few minutes,” she said to Thane, keeping her eyes locked on the opening.

  Thane went to the chamber entrance. “I’ll leave the door open.”

  “No, we need some private time,” Morana said.

  Waylon laughed.

  Thane hesitated. “Okay. Press the side of the door when you are ready to exit and it will open.”

  “Are you sure it will work?”

  “Do you want to test it?”

  Morana went to the door and pushed on the edge. With barely any force, the huge block pivoted. “It didn’t work for me from the outside,” she whispered.

  “I know. I locked it briefly,” Thane said.

  “Okay,” Morana said. She picked up her bag from the floor beside the door.

  Thane whispered, “What will you do?” as he tried to see into her bag.

  Morana squeezed the bag closed. She took his hand. “Please trust me. We’ll have the phone in no time.”

  “Don’t damage any of my rock surfaces with whatever is in your bag,” Thane said.

  “I promise.”

  Thane left the chamber and closed the door.

  Morana pulled a stun gun from her bag and held it up in the light, examining it.

  “Whoa!” Waylon said. “Hold on. Listen, I’ve offered you a diplomatic solution, here… You can have my phone if I get out of here. It seems like a fair deal.”

  Morana pulled a flashlight from her bag before dropping the bag in the center of the floor. She walked toward the slat, aiming the flashlight in to illuminate Waylon. He had removed his suit jacket and was on his hands and knees, the side of his face pressed to the opening to see into the chamber. “You do realize that police are on the way, don’t you?” he said.

  Morana came to a place right below the opening and reached her hand up. “Give me the phone willingly.”

  Waylon scooted forward and pressed his face to the opening. “Before you make things worse, you need to understand that we can both get what we want out of this situation.”

  “How about you give me the phone, and you live a while longer.”

  “Was that a death threat?”

  “No, it was an offer. But I can see it lacks appeal. Let me sweeten it.” Morana raised the stun gun with her other hand, aiming it through the narrow opening at him. A bright laser dot jiggled on Waylon’s shirt.

  “Wait!” Waylon yelled. “I don’t know what you two think my phone will get you, but it has nothing useful to either of you. You can’t possibly think you will get away with—”

  Morana fired. The probes pierced Waylon’s abdomen. His vibrating scream resonated throughout the chamber for seven seconds. When she released the trigger, he writhed, cursing her with a spit-filled string of profanities.

  “Here’s a new deal for you. I’d like the phone in exchange for… nothing,” Morana said calmly.

  Waylon panted. “That deal’s… not… fair.”

  She squeezed the trigger again until Waylon’s screams became hoarse. When she let go, she said, “I’m working on my patience. As you can see, my threshold is embarrassingly low.”

  Waylon threw the phone out. It crashed on the floor, spinning to a stop face down a few steps from her.

  “There’s the fucking phone,” he groaned.

  Morana took hold of the stun gun’s wires and snatched the probes from him before picking up the phone. She slowly turned it over to check for damage. The corner was dented, and the screen had a diagonal crack. “For your sake, I hope this phone is still usable,” she said, pressing the button to turn on the screen. “Lock code?”

  “9999 You got what you wanted. Now let me out—please.”

  Morana scrolled through the phone’s apps and contacts and then slipped the phone into her pocket. “That was a good start.” She went to her bag and pulled out the bed linen strips and draped them over her shoulder. “But there’s so much more I need from you.”

  Chapter 19

  THANE SAT ON his mattress in his bedroom chamber, wringing his hands. For years he had fantasized about getting even with Waylon. Being in an unexpected position of power exhilarated him more than he had imagined it would.

  He went to the aquifer chamber, sat on the step, and watched the rippling water. Morana had been alone in the trap floor chamber with Waylon for over twenty minutes. If she was making things uncomfortable for Waylon, that was fine with him. Eventually, he heard Morana’s voice echo from the corridor. “Okay, Tha
ne, we’re ready.”

  He hurried out of the bedroom and down the corridor. Morana stood in the open doorway of the trap floor chamber. Her shirt was untucked. “Whew,” she said. She swept back her hair that was stuck to her forehead and then wiped her hands on her jeans.

  “Did you get his phone?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said, tapping her pocket. They went into the chamber.

  Waylon’s legs hung out of the open slot, dangling at the top of the far wall. His ankles were bound with the strips of bed linen.

  Thane moved closer to the wall, looking up to examine the bindings that secured Waylon’s ankles. “How did you do that?”

  Morana patted the wall below Waylon’s feet. “I told you—I was persuasive. Now it’s safe to lower this block so we can take him out.”

  “What about his hands?”

  “They are bound behind his back the same way.” Morana handed him the flashlight.

  Thane stepped back and raised the flashlight above his head, aiming it into the opening.

  Waylon grunted through a thick cloth gag tied behind his head. He jerked his shoulders, struggling to free his hands.

  “How exactly did you tie his hands through that small opening?” Thane asked.

  “It’s easy—if you know how!” She winked at him and then pulled the phone from her pocket for Thane to see. “He threw it and cracked the screen, but it still works.” She held it for Thane to see.

  “Did he send a text message?”

  “Yes.”

  Terror flooded Thane’s expression. He covered his mouth and said, “How is that possible?” When he tried to take the phone, Morana held it firmly, turning the screen for him to see.