The GPS powered on in his hand, acquired satellites and began directing to a preloaded location. He lowered the GPS, not needing to ask where it was leading him. His mother had preloaded the program and she was after one thing; Caresse Zimmerman.
***
"Ack!" Reesa stopped walking, rifling through her bag and muttering.
Kate paused with her, watching in amusement as her friend lowered the shoulder bag in defeat. In her opinion, the wide patchwork fabric thing that Reesa carried could never be called a purse. It was too big, with straps long enough that it could be worn crisscross over the chest. With a sigh and a shake of her head Reesa handed Kate the keys to her apartment.
"Let yourself in," she said. "I left my voice recorder in the car."
Although a voice recorder was not something Kate would have taken the time to go get, especially when the trip required another three story climb to Reesa's apartment, she just laughed and took the keys. Dubbing the girl's strange compulsion as just another quirk of being an author, Kate turned and carried her luggage to the apartment door. She'd been there enough times that she knew Mrs. Bergum from apartment 302 wouldn't be alarmed at her presence. Most of the time the little widow would open her door a crack and check who was coming - she said she never could see through the peep hole - but today she didn't.
The lock was loose when Kate used the key, which made her frown. But the handle turned and the door swung open, so she thought nothing of it. Until, of course, she stepped in to find three men standing in the middle of Reesa's front room. She paused, luggage half in the doorway and blinked twice, hoping her imagination was getting the better of her.
Sunlight pushed in through the sheer white curtains of the bay window just to her left, silhouetting the bodies of the men before her. At most she could make out the height and build for each, which ranged from trim and tall, to bulky and an inch or so above her own five foot ten. Her heart lurched as she recognized the distinct shape of a weapon in the hand of the closest man.
Burglar - was that term used anymore? Reesa used the word "assailant" a lot in her work and for some reason it seemed to fit the situation so she stuck with it.
One of the men - assailants - made a startled sound, something like a gasp and a grunt, and the weapon faltered, lowering a fraction.
"I really hope you guys just have the wrong apartment," Kate said.
The gun was just within reach, the sleek barrel of silver telling her that the caliber was something like 9mm, but it didn't look like any of the weapons she'd encountered before. It was smoother somehow, more curvy than blocky. What truly alarmed her, however, was the way the man held it; two-handed, military style, his shadowed features gazing down past the muzzle and aiming at her.
Trained, she thought and lifted both hands slowly. Her luggage dropped at her left foot, teetering until it leaned against her leg. That would be a problem when she made a move but she turned her palms outward, proving she was unarmed, and took a deep breath. In the back of her mind she knew that something should have happened by now. The general shock in the room seemed to intensify rather than fade.
"Mesa?"
This came from the assailant with the gun. There was an odd accent to the name but she recognized it at once. Mesa Prosser from Reesa's books. Only the way he'd said it made it sound more like May-zah than her own translation of Mess-ah when she'd been reading.
"Kate," she said and calculated the distance between her hand and the weapon.
She knew she was facing a set of deranged Lothogy fans and dearly hoped Reesa would show up to put an end to the standoff. But as the men glanced at each other Kate remembered how the last fanatic had gone out, blowing up an entire store front to get Reesa's attention. Kate frowned, determined that she would not be on the evening news, and took matters into her own hands. She'd been in the Army for four years, had bullets fly over her head, she was an instructor at Kenpo International Karate; she could do something about this.
The startled man in front of her lowered the weapon a fraction more and her body reacted, sliding in close enough to take control of his wrist. Redirecting the gun upward, she slammed her heel down onto his instep, felt a reassuring crunch under her soft-soled shoe, and followed the attack with a knee to his groin. Two shots fired as he doubled over, hitting somewhere high on the wall. Kate slid her hand down his arm, grabbed the gun and started to wrench it away.
Strong arms grabbed her from behind, bear-hug fashion, and pulled her back.
"Mesa, please, calm yourself," the man holding her had a thick voice. It rumbled next to her left ear, his breath disturbing the hair intimately close to her face, and she registered that his arms loosened a bit. "There now, it's all right. We've come to take you home."
"Home?" Kate suddenly wished she'd paid more attention to the novels. It was obvious that these fans had mistaken her for the main female protagonist in Reesa's books, but her friend had been writing for too many years now and there were so many plot lines and details involved that Kate was lost.
What she could remember was that Mesa Prosser was dead. That much of the storyline hadn't been lost on her.
"Boss," the assailant with the gun straightened. "If this is Mesa, where's the Zimmerman woman?"
The words were directed at the man holding her and she suddenly knew who he was pretending to be; Hedric Prosser, Reesa's jaded and happily flawed main character. For reasons she couldn't understand, that realization pounded the danger of her predicament into her awareness. Kate took a deep breath and threw her head back; connecting against Hedric's face with enough force that she saw sparks of light behind her eyelids.
His arms dropped away from her and she shoved her elbow into his solar plexus. She half turned, keeping Hedric in view as she ducked the swing of the second assailant. He had heft to him, so she was mildly alarmed at the speed in which he moved. No sooner had he missed her head than he was swinging again, this time low. Swiveling to avoid the jab at her kidney, Kate spotted Hedric's move for her left side and leapt away.
Only her move crashed her into the door, which bashed against her luggage and sent her springing back into the fight. Hedric was closest, his face smeared with blood from his freshly broken nose, and he seemed intent on grabbing her rather than hitting her. Kate noticed this because he reached out to her, somewhat mimicking the grab she was conducting herself. One hand on the collar of his lapel, the other on his wrist, Kate used her momentum to turn, her body performing the hip throw before she'd even decided to do it.
Hedric flew over the right side of her body, toppling into the second assailant and falling headlong into Reesa's couch. The old, flowery bit of furniture screeched across the hardwood floor and struck the wall with enough force to knock a painting down. It was such a clamor that she hoped someone downstairs might hear and investigate.
Something sharp pierced her left arm and she grabbed at it. The room swam in her vision before she'd plucked the dart out of her skin. Kate cursed - something she hadn't done since Quinn was born - and remembered the third intruder. New arms took her, kept her upright as the Hedric wanna-be and second assailant began to get to their feet. Her legs quit working and she slumped against the man holding her.
*
"In the seven years since the original outbreak of the Mavirus, a massive influx of converts have pledged to the stringent Makeem regimen. If the steady increase of members continues, it is estimated that Makeem Loyalists will outnumber Christians three to one within the next five years." - A.P. November 12, 2201
Chapter Six
Reesa heard a massive amount of movement in her apartment and froze. There'd been grunting, banging, all the usual sounds of assault, and she'd lost coherent thought. It was over quickly but Reesa couldn't find the will to open the door further. Not yet. Sneaking closer to the doorway, she peered through the crack. Kate's suitcase kept it lodged open just enough that she could see part of the front room.
Two men were getting to their feet, but they were hard to
see given the lighting from the window. Kate flopped limply in a third man's arms and Reesa's heart twisted at the sight. Kate was too strong for something like that, too stubborn, so Reesa knew her friend had put up a good fight. By the way the man held her, Reesa thought she was probably still alive. Standard procedure after killing someone was normally to release the body, or so Reesa imagined. That wasn't counting serial killers and the real sick people, but as far as she could remember, serial killers and such didn't normally work in three's.
She spotted the gun and her mind jump-started into action. With one hand she fumbled through her purse, hunting for her cell phone while keeping her eyes on the scene in her living room.
"What did you give her?" She heard the shorter man ask.
"Ketamine."
The man grunted in disapproval.
"Well it worked, didn't it? I could have watched her beat the shite out of the two of you instead." The cadence of the voice, the language, he sounded very familiar. "How's your nose, Captain?"
Reesa's fingers closed around her cell phone at last and she yanked it out of her purse. But her pinky finger caught on the wrist strap of her camera, which went flying to the ground before she could catch it. Her heart lurched and she reached for it, but it clattered against the floor and she hurried away from her apartment. Her back hit widow Bergum's door and she stumbled through, surprised that it had been opened just before she landed half on top of a bony, awkward body.
Widow Bergum was little more than a lump of baby blue shawl and skirt, sprawled out on her own threshold. A knobby hand lay stretched out from the lump of shall, one gold band on one finger. The same gold band that Reesa knew the woman had worn for sixty-seven years. A scream caught in Reesa's throat just before someone grabbed her by the scruff and dragged her roughly to her feet.
In the light of the hallway she could see them clearly and her rational thought faltered. Her phone dropped, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that was bad. She needed her phone. She needed to call for help. She needed to do something other than stare at the men in front of her.
But she was looking at Hedric Prosser and she knew it.
The character that had made her famous stared back at her while the other man - Jellison if she wasn't mistaken - leveled the gun at her.
"Are you Caresse Zimmerman?" Hedric demanded.
Her mind continued to stumble.
"Caresse Zimmerman?" He repeated.
"Yes," she whispered.
She'd finally lost her mind.
Reesa had known a mental breakdown was coming for her, which was why she'd gone sailing. She just hadn't expected this. In fact, she doubted anything could have prepared her for this.
"Bring her with us," Hedric turned back into her apartment.
Jellison gestured with his weapon for her to follow and she did, automatically regretting the move, but at a loss for what to do. She watched as Hedric inspected Kate's wobbly form. Reesa thought that his hand shook just a little as he brushed the hair from Kate's face. It hit her then, as she watched the hard man in front of her that he thought he was looking at his dead wife. It was written on his face, in the reverent and frightened expression that passed his jackal-like features.
"I'd say your mother has a bit of explaining to do, Boss." Freeman nodded toward Reesa. "Should I dose her too?"
Back to reality, Reesa, she coached herself. She wanted to close her eyes and count to ten, but somehow couldn't. All three men in front of her were perfect copies of the characters in her book. She knew Freeman on sight because he had that distinctive scar running from his left cheek. It disappeared under his hairline, but she knew it would curve around to the back of his head. She'd given him that scar in the third book. Jellison was easy to recognize as well, what with his boxy features and bent nose. The only thing off was their clothing. They weren't in the trademark uniforms of the Field Arcs.
"Only if she makes trouble," Hedric said. "It's going to be difficult just getting Mesa out of here without raising suspicions."
"Kate," Reesa corrected him before she knew what she was doing. "Her name is Kate, not Mesa."
Hedric straightened and turned to her. "Miss Zimmerman, I think I know my own wife when I see her. Now I don't know what my mother wants with you and I don't care, either. What I care about is getting my men out of here safely. The only reason I'm keeping you awake is because you probably have information useful in our escape. If you don't, we will dose you and carry you. Your choice."
Numb with shock, Reesa saw Freeman begin to jostle Kate, reaching into the bag at his side for something. The sight of her friend nudged at her instincts, trying to bring her out of the prolonged stupor but she felt it only as a distant twitch. Reality was somehow out of reach and the vision in front of her had to play itself out.
Just as the syringe was pulled into view Reesa found her voice; "I have a car."
Freeman paused.
"Perfect," Hedric nodded to Freeman, who put the needle away.
Sirens came muffled through the window, grabbing their attention. Jellison cursed. Freeman slung Kate over his shoulder. Hedric turned to her, scowling and drawing his own weapon. The movements were all coordinated, practiced, exactly how Reesa would have written it. When Hedric took hold of her shoulder and turned her back to the door, she wondered if maybe she'd fallen overboard the Ho'ola Jane and was drowning or something. That seemed to make more sense than the men in her room. Maybe Kate was trying to revive her and having trouble.
She wouldn't give up. Kate never gave up. Not even when Reesa was rude and callous.
Before she knew what she was doing Reesa found herself halfway down the stairwell. That disjointed part of her psyche remembered that hypnotists sometimes used stairs to put people under and wondered if her descent wasn't two fold. And then they were at the front doors of the complex, police vehicles parked just outside with their lights flashing.
"Is there a back way?" Hedric's voice startled her.
"Side door," she said.
"Where?"
"Here Captain," Jellison led the way to the private door.
Hedric relayed commands, knowing the police would still be in the way when they left the building. She caught some of what he said. Most of it was to Freeman and Jellison, ordering them to hold their fire unless absolutely necessary. The important thing was that she was to lead them to her car, wait for Freeman and Jellison to load, and then take the driver's seat. Reesa had only managed to nod acknowledgement before Hedric kicked the door open.
The barrel of Hedric's gun angled at her temple as the man slid behind her. Terror snagged in her chest, her mind flipping back to that moment just before Jake had been shot. She could still see the blur of the slide, the ejected round from the chamber. Worse yet, she could still hear the sound of it cracking through Brady's Belfue Bookstore. Frozen in place, Reesa barely registered Hedric's voice behind her. Then he hit her, hard enough to make her eyes well up with tears, and she refocused on the moment.
Reesa could see her car, a little sporty thing she'd bought as celebration when the Lothogy novels made the New York Times list. It was navy blue with a tan soft top - which for some reason struck her as a bad choice. Soft top, she thought, easy to shoot through. There wouldn't be much cover.
It disturbed her considerably that she was thinking like Hedric.
They made a swift procession to her car, where Reesa found the presence of mind to take the keys out of her purse while Freeman and Jellison piled in. Kate's body was crammed between the two men and Reesa wondered for a moment how Hedric planned on getting in without being shot. But this was Hedric, after all. He'd already thought of something. With quick movements he led her around to the passenger door, all the while keeping cover behind her body as he loaded into the vehicle.
Her car was not made for so many men, especially larger men, so the sight was a little absurd.
Hedric hadn't given her a warning but then, none was really needed. His weapon remained fastene
d on her as she moved back to the driver's side. She heard the police calling her and for a moment she hesitated. Everything had moved so fast up to this point that she hadn't felt like she could breathe, much less see. Around her, the scene became vivid, locking itself in her memory like a traumatic, invisible burn. Dusk had settled in, lighting the street with the faded remnants of the sunset, the sky a haunting mix of purple and blue. It allowed the emergency vehicle lights to stand out in the parking lot.
Red. Blue. Red. Blue. It whirled in her vision for her five seconds of hesitation until Freeman tapped on the window with his weapon, dragging her back into motion.
She climbed into the car, turned the ignition and felt her engine roar to life.
"Head to Tokeland Bay Marina," Hedric showed her the GPS.
"They're going to shoot," Reesa said.
"Not with hostages so close," Jellison kept his attention on the back window, his weapon trained on the men outside.
"And we'll shoot back," Freeman adjusted so that he could find a clear shot as well.
Taking a slow, deep breath, Reesa put the car into gear.
***
At first Hedric had his doubts that the Zimmerman woman could get them out of parking lot. There were too many variables, too many police blocking the road, too many restrictions on the small vehicle. But then she turned the car, punched the gas and flew over the curb, weaving between two emergency vehicles and missing them by inches. The sudden jostle of the car forced him to brace himself in the seat and Hedric found a flicker of respect for the girl. Whatever shock had overcome her, Zimmerman was dealing with it.
"Three on our tail, Captain." Jellison reported.
Hedric looked at Zimmerman. "Think you can lose them?"
"Not a chance," she huffed a strained laugh.
And why should she try, he thought. He had just held a weapon to her head, after all.
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