The Dead Rogue

by L B Wyatt

Veronica deflated while he couldn’t see her. She was discouraged and a little hurt by his words. She wished more than ever she had his support right now, but it was clear whose side he was on. She didn’t blame him; she understood the politics and legalities he faced and she wasn’t going to hold any of it against him. If she could push through her rage, she would see he was still looking out for her in his own way. But in that moment, she was too angry to see past red. She took several steps back and started to her car. Needless to say, she was more than just a little disappointed in how the night had turned out.

  Veronica stalked for two blocks until her rental came into view. It was a keyless entry, but she still found herself looking for the keys in her purse. Some habits were just engrained and she was shaking her head at herself as she stopped at the driver’s side door. Several things happened in that moment and she barely had time to react. She saw a flash of a reflection in the car window as someone approached her from behind. Veronica’s priorities changed, but before she could find her weapon in her purse, her head was slammed into the side of the car.

  Seeing stars was an understatement. It felt like someone had jammed her skull into a vice and was still twisting it tight. She couldn’t think straight and her limbs seemed to be all loose like spaghetti noodles. Fighting was in her nature, but whoever had attacked her hit her head just right. She fell limp, waiting for the concrete to meet her body, but she felt arms enclose around her instead. She told her eyes to open, but they rolled back into her head. She told her arms to swing, but the dangled lifelessly at her sides as her assailant popped the trunk of the car and swiftly placed her in the back. She felt the rough carpet brush against her legs and then a loud thump of the trunk as it was closed leaving her in complete darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Strangely enough, this wasn’t her first time being stuffed in the trunk of a car and taken somewhere unfamiliar. As Veronica’s body swayed with the motions of the road, she drifted in and out of consciousness. The blow to the head wasn’t enough to cut her, but it was just enough to cause a debilitating pain that made her wish she had passed out. In an effort to seek relief (or perhaps a side effect of her concussion), Veronica’s thoughts wandered down a trail to the past.

  She remembered the anger so clearly as if it was still a white hot fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She had been mad at her college roommate and fed up with the entire college scene. It hadn’t been easy working two jobs and studying criminal justice. She was thinking about quitting or taking a break even as close as she was to graduating. She had been walking from her crappy apartment to the diner where she worked weekends to earn extra cash when she first felt it—the presence of someone or something. She was being followed. Her gut sensations didn’t dissipate either and for the rest of her shift, she knew she was being watched.

  Too prideful to ask for a ride to her apartment since it was only a half a mile away, Veronica headed out after closing. She was attacked before she reached the second block. A car came screeching around the corner and before she could even react, someone jumped from the vehicle, zip-tied her hands and a pillowcase over her head, and shoved her in the trunk.

  Fear wasn’t quite the word she would use to describe the emotion that raked through her entire being. Veronica had been so young and inexperienced, she had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen. She knew some of the sororities did initiations this way, but in all her semesters, no one had showed any interest in her. Not one person had asked if she was interested in joining and even if they had, she would have said no. She wasn’t there to be a part of something; she was there to learn how to be a detective and a damn good one.

  She had already made up her mind by the time the vehicle finally stopped. She didn’t care if it was a prank, or a real kidnapping, she wasn’t going to take any chances. She had decided to fight with everything in her as soon as her feet touched the ground. It didn’t matter that they had zip-tied her hands or that she was currently blinded by the dark cloth covering her face. She was going to escape or die trying.

  She was small enough she had manipulated her body, bending her spine until her feet slipped through her arms so that her hands were now tied in the front to give her a little bit of an advantage. If she did have the opportunity to run, at least she’d have better balance. She worked at the zip tie around her neck, pulling at the material so it was loose.

  When the trunk opened, Veronica felt large, strong hands as they hoisted her from the vehicle. In the distance, she could hear a train and the sounds of other vehicles. She thought she even heard the sound of another girl crying and pleading. As soon as her feet steadied, she turned and heard a male voice say, “Been playing Houdini in the trunk, I see.”

  He sounded amused and for some reason, it had pissed her off. That was the first time she ever realized how much anger could overshadow fear and she used it for her own benefit. Veronica yanked free from his grip quickly and pulled the cloth from her head. Once she could see, everything was kind of blur after that. She saw the man was big and he was dressed in black. His hair was shaggy and blondish, but other than that, she swiftly kicked him in the crotch. He doubled over in surprise and she rammed him like a linebacker right into the open trunk. She reached up with her still tied hands and slammed it shut on his foot. She remembered the stream of creative curse words that left his mouth. She also remembered he instinctively retracted his foot so that her second attempt to shut the trunk was successful.

  Veronica didn’t take the time to look around. She had turned and ran as fast as she could. She got to the edge of the parking lot only to realize it was surrounded by chain-linked fencing. She had looked up, deciding it wasn’t too much of a climb and started scaling the side, but she soon found out it was impossible to climb it with her hands tethered. Desperate for an escape, she began searching frantically for any defects or openings.

  She nearly had a heart attack when she found a part of the fence on the far side that had been cut. She started to slip through the small opening feeling elated. No one seemed to be after her, but she felt her conscience twinge—she had heard another girl cry out. She couldn’t just leave another victim helpless against whoever these monsters were.

  She stopped about midway through the fence and repeated the stream of creative words her assailant had just spat out. She couldn’t run away from this. Her mind argued and told her to run for help. Find some place and call the police and then return to help the others. But the hero side of her refused. She countered herself, worried that if she took the time to run off, someone might get hurt or killed. What if she couldn’t remember her way back and no one was saved? Could she really live with herself if that had been the case?

  Making up her mind for (much) dumber option B, Veronica pushed her way back behind enemy lines. She turned around and headed back to the car. It was this time she slowed down enough to really take in her surroundings. She was at the back of an old abandoned factory. Among the vehicle she had arrived in, there were also three others. Maybe there was a weapon or something inside one of them she could use to release her bindings.

  Unfortunately, the amount of screaming and beating her blonde headed kidnapper was making in the back of that trunk was undoubtedly going to bring some attention to the parking lot. And she wasn’t wrong. Veronica barely had time to open the car door when someone grabbed her from behind. She screamed and a hand quickly muffled her efforts. She bit down hard on the palm and heard another male curse out loud again. He pushed her forward and then there were two men and Veronica was suddenly outnumbered. She cried out, more in anger than fear, as the pillowcase descended once more over her face, blocking out her vision. She tossed her head from side to side, but they still managed to secure the cloth with another zip-tie around her throat.

  She was lifted up by one of the attackers and she felt his bulky arm lock around her neck. She hated the way he picked her up and carried her like she didn’t weigh anything. She hated the way he overpow
ered her every effort toward freedom. She lifted her hands and scratched and clawed, but nothing affected him. In fact, the more she fought, the tighter he squeezed. Before long, she found her blood supply being cut off to her brain. Her struggles decreased slightly and by the time he finally released her, Veronica’s arms were barely gripping the strong arm. She felt dizzy and breathless and too weak to defend herself when he placed her in a chair and strapped her wrists to the arm rests.

  “Better tie her feet, too. This one’s extra feisty.”

  Veronica didn’t know who the extra voice had belonged to and she didn’t really care at that point. She remembered being so very disappointed in herself. She had missed her opportunity to help whoever else was in this hellhole with her. She felt like a failure and probably looked the part too as her head fell forward as if it were too heavy to hold up anymore.

  She couldn’t recall how long she’d sat in the chair in silence, but it seemed like forever. Finally she remembered gaining some strength back and coming to when several voices grabbed her attention. She heard other women crying and begging and her heart sank again. She hated herself for being so stupid.

  “Quiet!” said a distorted voice. It was easy to tell it was being altered by some sort of device. Veronica remembered picturing some sort of mask over the man’s head who spoke.

  It was the first of many times Veronica would hear that voice. It caused a different reaction from her then than it did now, however. She had been afraid at first and then she had decided if she were going to die, she wanted to be the first one to go. She hadn’t been smart enough to escape and get help to save these poor victims so it was only reasonable she should get hacked first.

  “You’re probably all wondering why I brought you here,” the voice had announced. “I understand you are all probably afraid and that’s understandable. But don’t be foolish and you won’t get hurt,” he had promised.

  “Please, let me go!” a frightened female voice shrilled loudly, echoing off the walls.

  “I said quiet,” the man repeated more sternly this time. “This is a test and you are quickly failing it.”

  A test? Veronica had echoed. What the hell kind of test?

  Other than sobbing and sniffles, Veronica didn’t hear anyone else speak out. She sat perfectly still, her posture fully erect, her shoulders back in a defiant gesture. If her face could have been seen, it would have looked like a statue. Her stance must have drawn the attention of her captor and she heard his heavy footfalls approaching her chair. She knew he was close even before he spoke to her because she could feel the heat off his body.

  “Why did you come back, Veronica?”

  Just remembering those words and the first time she ever heard him say her name sent a violent shiver through her body. She had no idea what was going on at the time or how much longer she would be alive, so she figured she’d make every second count and see how far she could push this psycho.

  “What’s with the cheesy Batman voice?” she said in return. She heard him laugh softly and tug at the material around her face. She wanted to flinch and pull away, but her stubborn side refused to move. Her thoughts were moving fast, though, as she considered he was getting ready to strangle her. She remained still and calm, wondering if he would pull her mask off and reveal himself.

  He didn’t.

  He only loosened the cloth enough to slip his hand beneath and hooked his hand around her jaw. He traced his thumb over her lips and finally drew a response from her. It wasn’t what she had expected though. Even in that situation as terrifying and unsure as it was, Veronica felt goose bumps spring up all over her skin. She didn’t gasp out loud, but the breath she drew in was sharp and it caught her off guard. The absence of fear and the thrill of the moment was what had her contemplating her sanity. It was the first time she seriously considered there might actually be something really psychologically wrong with her. Anyone in such a situation should have been terrified, not—well, she wasn’t sure what she was—but it was far from normal, that was for certain.

  “I wanted to try and save them,” she whispered. And to this day she wasn’t sure why she answered him. She shouldn’t have given him the satisfaction. But looking back on it now, she supposed she wanted to know how it felt to speak with the flesh of his hand on her mouth. A testament to just how screwed up in the head she truly was. How could she have even considered being anything other than completely and utterly terrified in that moment? Looking back, she supposed that was why she’d been chosen over the others. She had proven she was just as crazy as her subjugator.

  “How do you even know they’re in danger?” he inquired.

  “Aren’t they?” she assumed.

  “Aren’t you?” he continued.

  Oddly enough, Veronica had stopped considering herself in harm’s way when she had heard him tell them all it was a test. She wasn’t sure and still couldn’t explain it, but the moment his hand touched her face, she knew he wasn’t a threat. Not to her life, anyway. There was just something…almost familiar about his touch. He was and still remained the biggest threat her heart had ever faced, though.

  “I can take care of myself,” she had assured him.

  With that being said, he had backed away from her, removing his hand from her face and Veronica suddenly felt cold and deflated. She knew it was weird and probably certifiably insane, but her heart (along with all her common sense and reasoning) had betrayed her that day. She would like to say she had never been in love and maybe love wasn’t even the right word.

  But it was obsession for sure.

  She remembered the speech he’d given them then. How they had all been chosen, watched and selected to be tested to join an elite team. It was a top-secret team and they would each be tested before being selected or rejected. She could recall him saying some showed more promise than others, and she remembered feeling as though he had been speaking directly about her.

  It was part of the reason she accepted a job offer from Arc instead of going with the local police department right after graduation.

  Veronica had learned so much from Arc and his training. Though not directly a coach, his lessons had taught her nearly as much as her father had when he was living. Even though he had never specifically said or done anything to warrant the notion, somehow Arc had always made Veronica feel like she was special.

  She wasn’t feeling very special at the moment, however. She was pulled from the past and thrown back into the clutches of the present as the car came to a stop. She heard two car doors open and close and then she waited with bated breath. She still felt weak and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to defend herself as soon as they pulled her from the car. She might have to wait, she thought. She might have to gain some strength and some her senses back before she made a break for it.

  She knew she wouldn’t run, though. She had never run away from anything. She was the dummy in the crowd who always ran toward the danger, not away from it. So when she considered a break for it, in her own terms that meant she was going to try and find out just who in the hell had enough balls to kidnap her and throw her in the back of a car. Her enemy list had grown substantially in the last couple months and her captor could be any number of people. She felt a sudden wave of disappointment in herself just then as she realized all the time she’d wasted reminiscing about Arc while she could have been gaining an advantage on her escape plan.

  She laid there for a while, wondering if she’d waited too long to make a move until it occurred to her that her kidnappers weren’t ready to take her from the car just yet. It had been a full five minutes and if they were planning to take her somewhere or run the car off into a river, they would have done it by now. Her adrenaline started to flow, causing her strength to build. Within a couple of minutes, she lifted her hands to feel around in the darkness. She couldn’t remember them tying her hands, but they had at some point. She realized then that she really must have fully passed out somewhere along the way. She had no recollection of the
duct tape being applied that secured her hands together in front of her now. It didn’t matter, she knew. She had been through this before and she was no fool.

  One thing she had figured out about the newer rental was the trunk had a seat latch that lowered the backseat for more storage. Or in her case, for an escape route. In front of that latch by the left radio speakers, she had carefully taped a pocket knife and a pocket pistol to the metal underside of the trunk. In this instance, she was glad she had learned a valuable lesson. Despite what her brain thought, her heart soared with the notion of how proud Arc would be for applying his wisdom. Dismissing thoughts of him, she ripped the weapon loose and made quick work of releasing herself.

  Once her hands were free, she grabbed the pistol, turning the safety off and then searched for the latch. She found it hastily and pulled while pushing the seat with her feet. She felt the seat give way and a small amount of light flooded the tiny cabin. She took a second to adjust her sight, making sure no one had decided to stay behind in the car. Once she was sure the coast was clear, Veronica pushed the seat the rest of the way down. Before she slid out into the back seat, Veronica slipped off her annoying and uncomfortable high heels along with her hideous wig and scooted into the back. She kept low, looking around as best she could while staying out of sight. Crouched in the backseat, she could see they had discarded her purse in the floorboard. She knew it would go the way of the shoes and the wig. She hated accessories− unless they were useful as weapons of course.

  Through the back window, Veronica could make out the roofline of a house. She could see lights on and one must have been close by in the driveway because the car was well lit, allowing her to see more than she had anticipated. She lay still for a few more minutes, straining her senses to make sure all was still clear. When she was sure no one was going to surprise her, she carefully and quietly slipped from the passenger’s side of the vehicle to keep the car between her and the house.