Every Storm Breaks (Reachers Book 3)

by L E Fitzpatrick

  “There will be people coming here soon. Dangerous people. They'll be coming for the priest. When they get here, you will stop them.”

  “What people?”

  “People you've met before. A monster and a Reacher woman.”

  She was talking about Rachel. Back in S'aven he had left her standing in some driveway, surrounded by the destruction he had made. But she wasn't dangerous, she was his friend. Wasn't she?

  “Stop them how?”

  “You know how.” Marie pursed her thin, cracked lips.

  The other was wailing inside his head. Jan held on. “And if I don't?”

  “Then they will do their best to kill us. It's like Sol promised you: if you stop them, he will give you everything you want. Everything you need.”

  And what did he need? He needed to feel the violent, final throbs of a sinful heart. He needed to see life bursting in reds through terrified eyes. He needed destruction and violence. But above all else he needed it to be over. Sol would give him the compromise, and he was powerless to resist.

  “What if I can't?”

  She shrugged, looking suddenly more like the teenager she was. “You stopped them before, in S'aven. Sol believes you can do it again.”

  “I don't remember.” The events in S'aven flashed through his mind, but he couldn't make any sense of them. The other could, and the more he tried to think, the more he risked losing control. “When will they be here?”

  “We don't know. Just keep the priest alive until we're ready to move out. They'll be easier to manipulate as long as his life is at risk.” She pushed past him and made her way downstairs.

  Jan rubbed his face. He couldn't clear his head. Memories and desires were flickering in the back of his mind like projections from an old camera. If they ignited into something more substantial, he would be lost again. He hurried down the steps, tripping as he went, and fell into the room with the priest. The medicom beckoned him, a single reminder of who he was: Dr Jan Curtis, not the other.

  The priest was awake. He rolled his head, following Jan's inspection of his health with wide, curious eyes. Morning light filtered in through the dusty, moth-eaten curtains, shining on the patient and the silver crucifix around his neck. The shimmer caught Jan's eye, and he finally gained some control over himself.

  “How are you today, Doctor?”

  Jan nodded, trying to convince himself he was coping. “Myself,” he managed to say. “For now, at least.”

  He took his place beside the patient, allowing his apprehension and worry to settle. The priest had a calming effect on him. Here he felt closer to God, closer to his true heart, closer to the light. And although the priest was not on his side, although he too was a prisoner, Jan felt eager to share all he had learned with the old man.

  “They are using you to draw Rachel and someone else here.”

  The priest nodded and placed his wrinkled hands together on top of the bed sheet. “I assumed as much.”

  “They say they are dangerous, that the one Rachel is with is a monster.”

  Darcy broke into a toothless smile. “John Smith is the most dangerous man I have ever met, but he is no monster.”

  “Is he your friend?”

  “My friend, my son, my salvation. Did they mention his brother, Charlie?”

  Jan shook his head, although he remembered a body on the driveway. Did he kill this Charlie too? “Are they bad?”

  “Not bad. Troubled. Troublemakers, perhaps. But never bad, even though they question themselves. They are dangerous, but, my son, they can help you. God favours them, though they would deny it if you asked them.”

  Jan felt a pang of jealousy. “God favours dangerous men?”

  The priest let out a raspy laugh. “He loves us all. But the brothers are important. They are bringing something we are no longer familiar with in this bleak world.”

  “What's that?”

  “Hope.”

  “Of rescue?”

  The priest shook his head. “Of redemption. I fear you and I are beyond rescue, my friend. But our salvation is not what matters in His plan. The brothers will come, and they will work God's will as He intended, and they will change things. Whether they like it or not.”

  “I'm supposed to kill them. If they come, I may kill them.”

  The priest seemed unconcerned by this possibility, and Jan was starting to wonder if the old man wasn't losing his mind as well as his health.

  “I don't want to kill anyone, but I won't be in control. I won't…. They've promised the other one death. They've said that if I do what they say they will let him live up to his potential, and the temptation is too much to resist. But they tell me if I let it happen, then they will end my suffering. His one great moment will be my last. A sacrifice. An ending to this madness.”

  “You believe the other is stronger than you?”

  “I can't stop him,” Jan confessed, and his body fell forward in surrender.

  “And yet you're here now, in control.”

  He couldn't explain how much of a battle it was to keep fighting him. He was tired and sick of the constant effort. If he could end it all, he would, and yet he feared the darkness beyond anything. He feared what they would say of him once he had gone. Dr Jan Curtis was supposed to be a good man. He was supposed to help people.

  A red flashing caught his eye. He rose, moving to check the monitor relaying Darcy's vitals. The light was a warning. A serious one. There was something wrong with the medicom.

  “Oh no,” he said once he'd called up the fault on the main screen. A student nurse could operate a medicom, but very few people could repair one. Jan only had a basic knowledge of the machine's workings, but he could see the fault and the danger it posed.

  “What's wrong?”

  “There's a crack in one of the filtering components. We need to replace it.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “In your current condition it's very serious. Your internal organs aren't functioning well enough on their own to allow you to heal unsupported. Without the machine….” He took a deep breath. “This is bad. Very bad.”

  He checked the machine, removing the working components and putting them back in place in the hope it would reboot the system. It didn't work. And with his limited resources, if he didn't get it working Father Darcy was going to die. He couldn't let that happen. Without the priest he'd be alone, and then the other would fight him. Would beat him.

  “What's wrong?” the girl said from the entrance. Jan hadn't noticed her before, but she was hovering in the doorway now. For as long as they'd been in the house she had refused to enter the priest's room, making it a small sanctuary for Jan.

  “The machine. There's an issue with one of the components. We need to find a replacement, or the patient will die.”

  Her eyes scanned him and then the room. “Wait here.”

  Not inclined to obey her, he followed her outside in time to see her pull out her mobile. She threw him a frustrated glare but let him stay.

  “It's me,” she said into the receiver. “There's a problem with the machine keeping the priest alive. It seems to be serious…. I'll go.” She slipped the phone back into her trousers. “You will stay in the house, and you won't come out until I return.” In her hands she held a key.

  This time, he knew he had no choice but to obey.

  20

  Jay had arrived the day earlier, imposing himself on the only refuge he trusted outside of his London connections. Through Charlie and John, he'd met Hannah six years ago, and, despite barely being able to be in the same room as the woman, he knew this would be the last place anyone would think to look for him. It was also an easy place to get to once you crossed the border and didn't have a vehicle at your disposal. Although Jay was a technical genius, he didn't drive, couldn't ride a bike, cook, or survive particularly well outside his own basement flat.

  The computer technician and the engineer had been living on top of each other for just over twenty-four hours, and
already the tension was starting to show. Charlie knew from his own dealings with Hannah that the woman could be utterly unreasonable and stubborn; he knew from working with Jay that he could be even worse. With them together, he had no intention of staying in town longer than was absolutely necessary.

  John shared his sentiments.

  “If we upgrade our transport, we can hit the road before nightfall,” John said. Normally they'd avoid wandering into enemy territory in the dark, but moving quickly was paramount. The unrest in the south would entice chancers and gangs from the east and north. If they didn't act fast, the landscape would be taken and the fight would be harder.

  “I don't know. I don't trust Sol. If the bastard knows we're coming too soon, he'll screw us over.”

  John folded his arms. “Then we will be discreet. Rachel and Roxy can stay here as backup.”

  Charlie paused, regarding his brother carefully. “You want to leave them behind?”

  His brother shifted ever so slightly. Nobody else would have noticed it, but Charlie knew all of John's tics and postures, and he knew what this meant. “You don't want Rachel to come with us, do you?”

  “I don't want either of them with us,” John stated coolly. “We already know Sol wants Rachel. And we know why. There's no reason to give him an opportunity to get to her. It's a complication we can do without.”

  That, at least, was a valid concern. Rachel, like Charlie, was a grade-five Reacher—a prize to anyone interested in more than her CPR skills and witty banter. If the Institute got her, they wouldn't let her go without a fight. And if Sol got her….

  Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, but she's not going to like it.”

  “She won't like being a concubine for an ancient, power-hungry husk, either. Besides, she's distracted. Roxy too. They'll be a liability if they come with us.”

  Charlie dared a look at Rachel. She was sitting with Roxy, idly watching yet another argument between their hosts unfold in the work yard. If he'd disagreed with John before, his mind was made up now. She looked tired, almost as tired as Roxy. Clearly her head wasn't in the game. John was right, if they took her into a lair of Reachers she wouldn't stand a chance. Sol was a master manipulator. He knew how to get what he wanted, and Charlie had no right to put her in that kind of position when she was vulnerable.

  “I don't suppose you want to tell her?”

  John scoffed and went to get their transport sorted.

  Taking a bracing breath, Charlie moved gingerly towards Rachel, maybe pronouncing his limp a little in the hope she might take some pity on him.

  “We're gonna move out in a couple of hours,” he said.

  Roxy groaned in relief. “Thank God for that. Another moment with the happy couple and I may have to kill someone.”

  “Yeah, hold that thought. I meant me and John are moving out. Alone. We think it's best we approach Sol just the two of us.”

  Rachel snapped to attention so sharply it made him flinch. “You want to leave us here?” She was using her disapproving doctor voice, the one that made hardened criminals sit down and take their medicine.

  This wasn't going to be easy. “Look, you've seen what Sol is capable of. And he's already expressed an unhealthy interest in you. He wants you, Rach.”

  “Well, he can't have me.” She was learning her stubbornness from John.

  Charlie tried to stand his ground. “It's not that simple. He has ways of manipulating you… and me—in fact, mainly me. He's dangerous, and there's nothing me or John can do to guarantee your safety.”

  “I can look after myself. Funnily enough I managed pretty well long before I met you, and I'm not afraid of getting hurt.”

  “You wouldn't be getting hurt, Rach, you'd be getting….” He rubbed his eyes, turning to Roxy in desperation. “Female Reachers aren't safe around Sol. He uses them, he wants to make more Reachers, and he….”

  “He wants your ovaries, pet,” Roxy explained. “He wants to make Reacher babies with you.”

  “I'd like to see him bloody try. I'm strong, Charlie. As strong as you. Don't pull this sexist bullshit on me. I've always been able to handle myself, so I'm fucking coming. And you can tell John, if he's going to try and pull this bullshit again, he can grow a pair and do it himself.”

  She didn't understand. It wasn't about protecting her, it was about damage limitation. Sol would play Charlie, and until he made his move Charlie wouldn't know the game. Having Rachel with him complicated things. She was an extra piece he couldn't afford to lose. He cared for her far too much. She was a distraction he could do without.

  “Listen, Sol will try to fuck with us, and if I'm worried about you then he'll play on that. I need to stay focused. Me and John have dealt with him before, and both of us are shitting ourselves. The guy has a way of fucking with you, and if your head isn't in the game you're done for.”

  “Are you saying my head isn't?” Her eyes were already betraying her. Charlie could see the self-doubt, and if he could see it, Sol would see it. Something had shaken her, and if he had more time he would have found out what it was. But he didn't. And he had to stand his ground.

  “I'm saying that if you go in and you make even one mistake, it's not just yourself you compromise, it's all of us… and Lilly.”

  That did the trick. “So what am I supposed to do? Just sit here and listen to the red-neck equivalent of John and Roxy?” On cue, Hannah and Jay's voices echoed over the scrapyard.

  “Besides, when we get back we're going to want to move out straight away. You guys need to make sure we're ready. If we're going to take on the Institute, we need to be prepared: supplies, weapons, you know the kind of thing.”

  “We can do that,” Roxy said before Rachel could object.

  Charlie gave him a grateful smile, but Rachel wasn't having any of it. She rose, dusted herself off, and walked away. It was unsettling seeing her struggling. She was usually the solid one, the person they could rely on for consistency, the calming influence. If it wasn't for her he'd probably be dead by now, and he loved her dearly. But he had no idea what was wrong with her or how to make her feel better. Maybe if they had more time. Maybe if they weren't so close to the end game.

  “I wouldn't worry about it, Charlie. Probably just her time of the month,” Roxy said, patting him on the shoulder.

  “You can't say shit like that, Rox.”

  “I grew up with twelve hormonally synchronised prostitutes, I earned the right to say shit like that. You guys get off. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her.”

  Charlie sighed. Things were getting desperate if he was relying on Roxy to be the responsible one in the group.

  * * *

  A few hours before dusk, John and Hannah had finished loading and checking the car. She'd loaned them an off-road hybrid of her own construction, and, aside from Jay's insistence the nav system wouldn't get them out of Blackwater, John was clearly quite taken with the machine.

  But a heavy-duty, reliable vehicle wasn't enough to quell Charlie's nerves. He'd been waiting for this moment for a long time; so long, in fact, he'd almost expected it would never come. Seeing Sol again made his stomach lurch. He hated his old mentor, yet Sol was the key to finding Lilly. Sol had connections at the Institute, people he paid off to give him information and protection. The man and his entourage of followers had avoided Institute capture for decades, and somehow he always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone. Even Charlie.

  And now Charlie was going to waltz into the lion's den and demand information.

  He checked his weapons, even though he'd never be able to shoot Sol. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to let John shoot him. He spied Rachel watching them from the workshop. She'd barely spoken to him since their last heated discussion. He offered her a hopeful smile, something to coax her out of hiding, and miraculously it worked. She moved towards him, her hands shoved into her jeans pockets somewhat sheepishly.

  “You ready, then?”

  He thought about lying and ke
eping up a manly bravado, but she'd see right through it. “No,” he confessed. “I've got a bad feeling about this, Rach. A really bad feeling.”

  She adjusted his shirt collar. “Then you'll stay alert, and when it comes, you'll be ready.” Their embrace was too pensive for comfort, but Charlie held her tightly regardless.

  “If we make it back, we'll talk, okay?”

  “You will make it back, because if you don't, we'll have to come rescue you, and that means putting my ovaries at risk.”

  “Fair point. I'll see you in a few days.” He kissed the top of her head, allowing the connection between them to overpower him. Maybe if he concentrated on that, the other Reachers wouldn't be able to pull at him as much. “If there is trouble, go to ground, don't come for us. Roxy will know what to do, and you'll be safe if you stick together. Just don't trust him with the money, or decision-making, or anything, really.”

  She let out a little laugh. “Don't worry, I won't. Remember, you're only going to find out about Lilly. Don't let anything else get in the way. Keep your priorities in sight, and come back to us.”

  She released him, and the separation made his body shudder. There was something about this moment. Something that nagged at him, setting him on edge. Don't let her go.

  “Rach,” he said.

  And for the briefest moment she was back to her former self, her eyes warm and full of optimism. “It will be okay. You're the invincible Charlie Smith, remember.”

  He just prayed she was right.

  21

  Blackwater, having no place for religion or faith, had gladly given their only church over to the local police department. The police force themselves were more part of the town than the church ever had been, and Blackwater, despite its rough-and-ready exterior, was not a lawless place. The sheriff and his men were elected by the people, all being born and bred in the industrial town, and many had served time in the mines and factories that fuelled the community. Unlike the law enforcement in S'aven and London, these were a traditional, fair police force, intent on keeping their people safe and their town functioning.