Into the Darkness

by L. T. Ryan

  We walked the perimeter looking for signs of life, then made our entry, clearing the place room by room. The floor bowed and sagged on the first level. Upstairs I thought it would collapse if Sam and I stood too close together. Every room had its own brand of character. Hard to imagine the furniture hadn’t been taken years ago when it might’ve been in decent shape. Now it was rotten, covered with mold and feces.

  The three of us huddled in the kitchen.

  “This place got a basement?” Sam said.

  Cervantes shook his head. “I checked every door on this level. Nothing but a couple of closets.” He holstered his pistol. “We’re just wasting time here, guys.”

  “My mind keeps going back to the other place,” Sam said.

  “What other place?” Cervantes asked.

  “The one by the state line. Really secluded location with a couple of greenhouses and a run-down home. Kinda like this.”

  Cervantes shrugged. “You check it out?”

  “You guys cleared it,” Sam reminded him.

  Cervantes crossed his arms and widened his stance. “What do you mean we cleared it?”

  “The pilot,” Sam said. “He talked to Pennington. He was already familiar with it. Said he had checked it out years ago when he was in narco after a tip from some teenagers about a large marijuana operation. People there were growing lilies, selling them on the roadside.”

  Cervantes’s face turned three shades paler. “Pennington was never in narcotics here. He transferred into SCMPD twelve years or so ago as a homicide detective.”

  “Transferred from where?” I asked.

  “Delaware. Not too far from where you guys are from. Figured that’s why he cut you so much slack, Tanner.”

  I felt like I’d taken ten body blows while up against the ropes.

  “So, he didn’t tell you about the other place?” Sam took the information better than I had.

  Cervantes wrapped his hands around the back of his head and stared up at the sky. “Ah, Christ. We gotta get over there.” He pulled out his cellphone and called the pilot. “We’ll ride together.”

  The situation, as they say, crystallized. There were no lily growers. No stand on the side of the road selling flowers. We’d found Novak’s hideout.

  And Pennington already knew the location.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Cassie had managed to drift to that place between sleep and wakefulness. She spent a lot of time there at home when dealing with her visitors. It hadn’t been easy to achieve the state while confined to the cell Novak kept her in. It wasn’t the same as eight hours of restful sleep, not that she knew what that was anymore. Since the attack in the graveyard, she hadn’t managed more than four hours at a time. Still, every second she spent in that zone helped to re-center and recalibrate her mind and body.

  There had been activity on the other side of the door. Heavy items dragged across the floor. Doors slamming shut. She wondered if Alice’s time had come to an end and the sounds were her coffin being moved around. Would Novak even bother with a coffin? She figured he’d use a tarp or heavy plastic and duct tape. If he felt like taking his time, a nice six-foot hole would do the trick. If he was in a rush, a shallow creek would keep the body hidden for a while.

  She saw herself in such a situation. The plastic wrapped so tight her arms wouldn’t move. Unable to draw a breath into her lungs. Stifled, yet alive, in an unending nightmare.

  Wasn’t she already in one?

  She watched a shadow pass under the doorway. This one belonged to an earthly being. Why won’t he just come in? The next opportunity would be the final one, she decided. Whatever was going on had the sense of panic and urgency about it. Perhaps Novak was getting ready to jump ship. He’d want to travel light, of course, and that meant Alice and Cassie were now expendable. Maybe he’d keep her around as a hostage, a negotiating piece. Hell, the psychological damage was done. Going forward, life would be a living hell, even more so than it had been.

  The door banged open an inch. No one was there. No silhouette in the crack. No shadow under the door. Had it been intentional? Or had he slammed into it by accident?

  Cassie closed her eyes and listened. A persistent hum she hadn’t noticed before droned on in the background. What was it? She tried to place the sound. The closest she could guess was a power washer.

  Alice.

  She searched the corners of the room for a spirit who could confirm, but there were none present.

  The door whipped open, crashing into the wall and bouncing back toward Novak. He extended his arm and stopped it. From his other hand, a needle dangled. A sedative? Or did he plan on putting her to sleep permanently? The latter could not be the case. Novak enjoyed killing too much. He’d stabbed her relentlessly in the graveyard all those years ago. A psychologist told her that Novak could build a story, a history, between two people in his mind in a matter of seconds. An entire history of him and Cassie existed solely in Novak’s head. He didn’t want to simply kill her. He was unleashing a torrent of passion and hate and fury upon her as though the two had been lovers for twenty years.

  There was no doubt in Cassie’s mind that he still felt the same way.

  Novak took slow, deliberate steps toward her. His boots thumped on the floor. He set the syringe on the bottom corner of the bed. Cassie withdrew her foot as far as the rope would allow.

  “You are my favorite,” he said. “You know that, right? You are so damn special.”

  Cassie did not reply.

  “When I found out that you were still alive, oh, man.” He clasped his hands together while shaking his head. “A mental orgasm is the only way to describe it. I do have to say, it pissed me off quite considerably that they hid you in plain sight.”

  “No one hid me,” she said. “I never feared you. I know what happens next, Novak. You can rid me of this fleshy shell, but I’ll never go away. And I’ll be sure to make you wish you had been the one to die.”

  The light washed over half of his face, casting the other side in darkness. His smile looked that much more sinister. He drew his right leg up and sat on the edge of the bed. “If none of the others have managed to do that, what makes you think you can?”

  Cassie squirmed away from his touch, stifling her own smile. She hadn’t needed to wait for him to advance upon her. She was now in reach. “Like you said, I’m special.”

  A soft laugh escaped Novak. He closed his eyes and lowered his chin to his chest. “Oh, Cassie, Cassie, Cass—”

  With her hand wrapped tight around the post, she yanked it free and whipped it over her body in a high arc. Novak glanced up, placing his face in the path of the club. Cassie brought it down hard. His nose crunched as the post slammed into his face. He tumbled off the bed, leaving a tooth behind.

  Cassie twisted and contorted her body to continue the attack. She landed two more blows as Novak clawed along the floor to get out of her way.

  She had already loosened her bindings. Freeing herself took only a few seconds per limb. By the time she placed her wobbly legs on the ground, Novak had reached the walls and was using it to get to his feet.

  The first two steps were not easy. Cassie felt as though she might collapse. She steadied herself, clinging to the post like a batter stepping up to the plate.

  “You stupid bitch!” Novak leaned back against the wall. His face was darkened with blood. He wiped his eyes and shook his hands off. Crimson drops pelted her bare skin.

  Cassie stepped forward, twisting at the waist. She drew the post back over her shoulder. The more range, the more torque. She didn’t want to hurt him or knock him down. She wanted to kill him with the next blow.

  As she started to swing the club around, Novak exploded off the wall. She side-stepped and short-armed her attack, bringing it down on his back with a loud crack. It had done some damage, but nowhere near what she had hoped. And it hadn’t stopped him. Novak’s momentum carried him through as he twisted toward her. His shoulder drove into her abdomen, sending
her backward.

  She collided with the mattress and lost her footing. The full weight of Novak came down on her legs and dragged her to the floor. He was reaching around his back, grunting in pain. Broken ribs, for sure. Maybe even a vertebra.

  Cassie writhed her body in an attempt to free herself before Novak remembered what his main goal was. The pain he felt would dull, and if it did so soon, he had her right where he wanted.

  She rested on her left elbow and managed to get her right leg free. Novak lifted his torso off her. He faced her. Light shone on half his blood-smeared face.

  “I’m going to finish you now,” he said.

  She pulled her knees to her chest, then drove her feet into Novak. They deflected off his face, into his chest. He reared back on his knees, cursing in pain and reaching for his back again. The blow had only served to delay his attack. Novak threw himself forward, arms wide, fists clenched, mouth open.

  Cassie fell to her left and flipped her hips. It was all she could do. Novak had her back. With one hand he clenched her hair near the skull and yanked back. The other pounded her shoulder, side, neck, and head. She drew her shoulders up tight to protect her neck. Novak now had both hands full of her hair, pulling up hard. She feared he was going to smash her face into the concrete floor, so she bucked hard, driving her hip into his groin.

  Novak grunted and released his grip on her hair. Cassie dug her fingertips into the hard ground and pulled herself forward. She reached out to grab the bottom bedpost. Novak dug his hands into the bare skin of her waist and yanked her back. Her fingers, slick with his blood, grazed the post and slipped off, her palm slammed into the floor. Something sharp stuck her.

  The syringe.

  It had been left on the corner of the bed and had fallen to the floor.

  She worked her fingers frantically to get a grip on the syringe. She feared plunging it prematurely and losing the powerful juice inside. Likewise, she had to be careful not to stick herself.

  Novak was off of her. She looked back. He had turned and was going for the post. In the chaos it had skidded to the corner.

  Cassie flipped over, twisting in the air, coming down hard on her back. Despite the pain and loss of air in her lungs, she planted her left foot, lifted her butt off the ground, and drove her right foot up, catching Novak from behind in the groin again.

  He stopped and looked back at her. His lips looked comical, painted in red. His smile had tragedy written all over it. The kick had not had the intended effect. Novak drove his foot down on her knee. Cassie cried out in pain.

  He turned and bent at the waist, hovering over her. Drops of blood splashed on her chest and face. “You gonna do something stupid like that again?”

  She cried.

  He reached out and slapped her on the face. “No, you’re not, Cassie. Because in about two minutes, your brains are gonna be all over the floor.”

  “No, please.” She forced a pained cry.

  He leaned in closer. “Say that again?”

  She licked her lips, coating her mouth with the metallic taste of his blood.

  “Come on, girl,” he said. “I don’t have all day.”

  “I said, please.” She stared into his eyes. A wide smile spread across his face. She matched it with her own.

  “If only you would have done that from the start.” He traced the tip of his index finger down the side of her face, over her lips, across her chin, skipped her neck, and settled on her chest.

  She drew her hand over his, moved it closer to her breast.

  “That’s more like it,” he said.

  Cassie clenched down on his wrist, digging her nails into his flesh. She hooked her legs around the back of his knees and drew them in tight. He collapsed onto her. One of his knees drove into her stomach. She braced for the impact, but it hadn’t been enough. Cassie gritted her teeth against the pain, while Novak worked to free his hand. With the other, he planted his palm under her chin and began driving it upward.

  Cassie flipped the syringe in her hand. Her thumb hovered over the plunger. She lifted her arm. Light glinted off the needle. Eighteen inches, give or take, stood between the drugs and Novak’s neck. Cassie let go of his arm and quickly wrapped it around the back of Novak’s head, grabbing a fistful of hair. She brought her feet higher, crossed her legs at the ankle over his lower back, and pulled down tight. He was going nowhere. She yanked his head to the side, exposing his neck. The flesh and muscles protecting Novak’s neck did little to stop the thin needle from penetrating two inches deep. Cassie drove the plunger down, filling the man with whatever he had planned using on her.

  He pulled his head back. His eyes stared at nothing. “You…”

  She pushed his chest away from her and brought her legs in to help keep him from buckling over on her. A few seconds later she worked herself out from underneath him. She felt for a pulse near where the needle hung from his neck. Her hands were too shaky to hold steady.

  GET OUT!

  Heed the voice, Cassie, she told herself. She struggled to her feet. Her knee ached where he had stomped on it, but it didn’t prevent her from walking. She limped out of the room. The lights over the table blinded her at first. She shielded her eyes from the glare and shuffled her feet across the glinting floor. What the hell was that? Pain shot through her heel. Glass. The floor was covered in broken glass.

  “Alice,” she called out. “Alice, can you hear me?”

  There was no response.

  Cassie banged on the door before remembering she was standing on the outside. She grabbed the handle. It felt ice cold against her damp skin. She turned, but her hand slid off. It was locked. She looked for a latch on the door but there wasn’t one.

  “Come on, come on.” She banged on the door again. “Alice, I’m going to get you out of here. You hear me? Get your ass up, we’re going home.” Cassie placed her ear against the door.

  A moan, slight as it was, filled her with a newfound sense of purpose.

  Cassie hurried around the room in search of a key. There had to be something. Maybe it was on Novak. She reentered her room despite the voices telling her not to. Novak hadn’t moved. She hoped he was dead. A quick search of his pockets revealed nothing.

  Back in the grim foyer, she grabbed a round bowl on the table filled with dirt and flowers. Sitting on top of the dirt was a key. A moment later she pushed Alice’s door open and all hope sank.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  The pilot set the helicopter down a mile from the site. Couldn’t risk getting any closer than that. If Pennington were there, he would know the moment he heard the rotors thumping that we’d figured out his game.

  Cervantes was torn. He kept insisting his partner had nothing to do with this. Then he’d come up with a reason it was plausible. I studied Sam’s reaction, wondering if he was thinking what I was. We’d been best friends for a long time. Was there a chance he harbored evil secrets like Pennington’s?

  Sam cut me a look that said something along the lines of are you kidding me.

  Was it directed at me? Or the crap Cervantes espoused?

  They’d arranged for a state trooper to transport us to a location about five hundred yards from the greenhouse. Sam and I crammed into the backseat with our knees practically pressed against our chests. I kept my gaze fixed on the woods. If I stared long and hard enough, I might just spot Cassie hiding in them.

  “What’s that?” Sam said.

  I turned my head toward him as he tapped on his window.

  “Hey, hey, stop the car.” He grabbed the trooper’s shoulder.

  The statie didn’t appreciate the gesture. He shrugged Sam’s hand off, then hit the brakes. If I hadn’t been wedged in so tight, I might’ve slammed into the back of Cervantes’s head.

  “What is it?” Cervantes said.

  “Back up,” Sam said. “I think I saw something.”

  The cruiser traveled in reverse for a few seconds.

  “Stop here and let us out.”

  Th
e trooper and Cervantes exited and then opened our doors. Sam had a hell of an eye. Driving by at forty-five miles per hour, he spotted two faint tire tracks in the knee-high grass leading into the woods.

  “How far are we from the drop-off point?” Cervantes asked the trooper.

  “Around the bend ahead, but this is probably just as close.” He ducked back into the cruiser for a moment, then came back nodding his head. “Yeah, only thing between the road and the lot is these woods.”

  I moved to the trees and saw the path continued on for a while. “Feel like doing some off-roading?”

  A few hundred feet later the trooper stopped near the wood’s edge and we all exited the car again.

  “I want you to stay here,” Cervantes instructed the trooper. “I’ll keep you updated with our movements, but if ten minutes pass without me checking in, you call in for backup.”

  The guy didn’t seem to have a problem with that. Patrolling the highways was more his speed. He sat back down in his cruiser with one foot on the ground.

  We made our way to the lot and waited in the shadows for a minute while surveying the grounds. They were eerily similar to the previous location. A run-down carport with a beat up pickup truck under it. Two greenhouses, though these appeared to be in better shape. The lot was more squared off than the last, and contained no additional permanent structures. I couldn’t recall spotting a house nearby that might be on the same property.

  “We do this my way.” Cervantes had his Glock at the ready. “No one shoots unless threatened directly. If you come across Pennington, you keep him in place. He’s my partner. I’ll deal with him. Got it?”

  Sam took a deep breath. He didn’t like taking orders from anyone, let alone a detective from another state.

  I grabbed his shoulder and leaned in. “You take the lead, Cerv. We’ll follow.”

  Sam glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He knew I hadn’t meant what I said. Both Novak and Pennington had kill on sight written on their foreheads.