Realm of Shadows

by Eldon Farrell

  “You trying to hurt me Dad?” Hong’s voice quavers slightly as he struggles to keep it together. “Cause you’re a little late for that. I get it, I don’t measure up; I never have. And my whole life that’s bothered me but no more. After everything that you’ve done, it’s you who doesn’t measure up to me.

  “We’re finished Dad. When we get off this island—if we get off this island—you get your wish; you have no son.”

  Wearing a smirk Jing asks, “Are you trying to hurt me son?”

  “I couldn’t hurt you Dad,” Hong says, “I don’t think anyone could.” He turns away before saying, “Tell me though, one last thing. Why this place? Why did you release X1 here? You could’ve tested it in labs or in some foreign country away from prying eyes. Where is the value in what you’ve wrought here?”

  “Not everything I told you was a lie Hong,” he begins, “Your girlfriend was sending the samples here—to this place—to her home. I couldn’t be sure if she had also told anyone here about it, and if she had, had that person told another person who told another person and on and on. So I took the opportunity afforded me to kill two birds so to speak.”

  “And all these innocent people died,” Hong says with disgust, “To protect your investment. You’re an even worse monster then Amir imagined.”

  As he starts to walk away, Jing casually calls to him, “You now know what I’ll do to protect an investment Hong; don’t make me arrange that accident.”

  Hong gapes open-mouthed at him a moment before hurrying away across the cafeteria.

  The door is flung open as a haggard looking Alexander Cummings returns to the group. Bending at the waist, he’s breathing hard as he tries to catch his breath.

  “What is it!?” Jeremy squeals, “What happened?”

  “Where are the others?” Caleb calmly asks.

  Rising back to his full height, Cummings says with a shake of his head, “We were ambushed; the Toymaker got them. I barely got away myself.”

  “Oh Jesus,” Jeremy says to no one as he runs his hand through his short hair.

  “But you managed to get away,” full of suspicion Cole comments.

  “How exactly did he manage to get the drop on all of you mate?” Chase queries sardonically, “When you all have the guns I mean?”

  “Good question,” Caleb adds, “I was wondering that myself.”

  Smoothing his lapels, Cummings replies defiantly, “I don’t think I appreciate the accusations being implied here. I barely escaped with my life.

  “Why don’t you ask his captive,” Cummings points to Lynne saying, “She can attest to his skill and brutality I’m sure. He separated us systematically. He took Frazier first, then Watkins when he went looking for Frazier, and then he took out Slade. I’m lucky to have made it back here.”

  “So you claim,” Jing speaks up, his voice smooth as ice. “This one man took down three highly trained soldiers—Slade among them?”

  Cummings turns to face him. His steel blues sending the message loud and clear that what he’s said isn’t the entire truth—that a far different fate befell Samuel Slade.

  Smirking he states, “You put your faith in the wrong man I guess.”

  “Did you see him kill them?” Caleb asks.

  Startled by the question Cummings replies, “What?”

  “Do you know they’re dead?”

  After a moment he answers, “No.”

  “Caleb,” Lynne interjects, “You’re not thinking about going out there?”

  Keeping his eyes trained on Cummings, he stresses “Not alone, I’m not. We can’t keep letting Heath pick us off one by one.” Turning to face the room he declares, “We need a plan.”

  “This is how it starts, you know?” Jeremy whispers to Tyler.

  Everyone else has gathered at the center of the cafeteria to formulate a plan under Caleb’s direction but Tyler, still suffering from his ordeal remains at the rear of the room where Jeremy is cowering.

  “In every bad horror movie ever made,” Jeremy continues, “This is the part where the herd is thinned. The moment where the good guys think they can fight their way out of trouble.”

  Keeping his swollen eyes shut, Tyler rubs at his forehead saying, “And I suppose you have a better idea?”

  “Damn right.” Inching closer to him, Jeremy keeps his voice low so they can’t be overheard. “Do you want to die here?”

  Opening his eye a crack, Tyler tilts his head to look upon his frightened companion.

  “Cause I don’t want to die here,” Jeremy continues, “But if we stay here and go along with the lunacy they’re planning—that’s what’s gonna happen.”

  “And you seriously think that we’d fair better out there on our own?”

  “How could we fair any worse?” Jeremy nervously asks, “Look around man. Did sticking with this group help Ling or Clay or George or Slade survive? And who do you think is going to be next? When the ‘good guys’ rally,” he points between them, “The weak always die first.”

  Considering his ravings Tyler asks, “So what are you suggesting? What’s your plan?”

  “We get as far away as we can from this group.”

  Sitting up, Tyler rests his head in his hands as he points out the obvious. “You do remember the hurricane outside right? Where are we going to go that the Toymaker can’t find us?”

  Raising a finger, Jeremy smiles inanely, “He won’t be looking for us. He’s coming for the group; it’s them he wants. All we need to do is slip away unnoticed and then we can wait for help to arrive someplace safe—away from everyone else.”

  “And where would that be?”

  Glancing at the assembled group for a moment, Jeremy says, “I’m thinking the library. It’s close enough that it won’t take long for us to reach it and we’ll be able to hide in the stacks.

  “Come on Tyler,” he pushes, “You know I’m right about this. You’re hurt and I’m no hero; we stay here much longer and our tickets are gonna be punched.”

  Despite his initial misgivings, Tyler begins to see the logic in his harried words. Glancing at the group that has thus far kept him safe he weighs his options.

  Should I stay or should I go? If I stay I have strength in numbers but those numbers include at least one murderer and the man who had me tortured. Will anyone here come to my aid when the chips are down? If I go with Jeremy, sure he’s a coward, but sometimes it takes a coward to survive.

  “When do we leave?” he asks.

  Seeing the group preoccupied, Jeremy nods his head toward the shadows under the mezzanine. “I’d say now’s as good a time as any.”

  With a last look back at the group that has sheltered them; they slip away into the unknown.

  Chapter 45

  The tension amongst the group is electric. Caleb can taste their fear as they look to him for protection and a plan. Outside the air crackles with lightning and the wind howls mournfully—resonating deep within all of them.

  Feeling the weight of their collective expectations and the heft of Ling’s Glock at his waist, Caleb takes a deep breath and begins.

  “We need to take the fight to him.” He slowly looks around the group making eye contact with each person. “If we continue to just sit here and wait for Fiona to blow over, we’re vulnerable.

  “Heath isn’t waiting and so far he’s picking us off one by one. It’s time we fought back.”

  “No Caleb!” Lynne cries out, “Please don’t do this. Don’t go out there. I’m begging you.”

  The terror and concern in her words pierces the shell he’s erected to contain his turbulent emotions. Despite everything that’s happened, hearing her afraid still seizes his heart with an overwhelming urge to comfort her.

  Burying his feelings he turns from her offering, “Sorry Lynne, but this is our best chance.”

  “Before you said he wouldn’t attack a group this size,” Cole comments, “Aren’t we safe if we stay together here?”

  “I don’t know anymore,” Ca
leb admits, “I still don’t think Heath will approach us here but…he’s already found a way to get to six of us. If we continue to wait and he continues to find ways to get us alone…he could have us wiped out by morning.

  “Our best bet here is to stop making it easy on him. We go looking for him and put him on the defensive.”

  “Best defense is a good offense then eh mate?”

  “Exactly,” Caleb nods to Chase.

  “So what do you suggest?” Wendy asks.

  After a long exhale Caleb starts, “We have our injured here,” looking at the worried faces staring back at him he stops suddenly. “Where’s Tyler?”

  Everyone looks at each other blankly for a moment as panic takes hold in them. Spreading out they search the cafeteria to no avail.

  “Jeremy’s missing too,” Cole reports.

  “Jesus,” Hong speaks up, “You don’t think he was in here and took them do you?”

  Answering the question on everyone’s mind, Caleb shakes his head saying, “No I don’t.” Gazing out the windows at the hallway he adds, “I think they left on their own.”

  “And just what makes you think that?” Cummings challenges.

  Turning his head toward him Caleb answers, “Jeremy’s gear is gone. If Heath snatched them his gear would still be here. That and the fact that if they had been grabbed, I’m sure they would’ve made some kind of noise.”

  “Why would they go out on their own?”

  Nodding, Caleb replies, “You do have the good questions Hong, but I don’t have an answer to that one. They’re probably just afraid and not thinking straight. We’ll find them and bring them back. But first we need to find Watkins, Frazier, and Slade.”

  “You really think they’re still alive?” Cummings queries doubtfully.

  “You didn’t see them dead,” Caleb points out, “And Heath tends to favor a prolonged death—we could still save them.”

  “So the plan is?” Wendy inquires.

  “We split up and hunt the bastard down,” Caleb growls low in his throat. “Chase, Hong, and Jing come with me to where Cummings last saw his men; we start the search there.

  “Wendy, you Cole and Cummings stay here with Lynne and barricade the doors as best you can after we leave.”

  “No way,” Cole objects, “You’re not leaving me behind. I’m coming with you; you’re going to need all the strength you can get.”

  “He’s right Caleb,” Lynne offers, “If you insist on going after Heath you should take him with you. You’re hurt, he’s not.”

  “I’m fine. He stays,” Caleb asserts turning to Cole, “You stay. Watch Cummings and help keep them safe.”

  Cole chews his bottom lip as he stews over his situation. He’s used to being on the front lines of a story—risking his neck is nothing new to him—staying behind just doesn’t sit right. But seeing the determination in Caleb’s posture he knows this is an argument he can’t win.

  Passively nodding he agrees to the plan.

  “Well this is nice and all,” Jing remarks, “But there is no way I’m going anywhere.”

  “What’s the matter?” Chase jibes, “All that killing and afraid to die mate?”

  Glowering at him, Jing laments, “Just not suicidal is all.” Turning to Caleb he adds, “There is a proven psychotic killer running around out there Agent and your plan is to go to him? Is that really the best you have?”

  “Well it’s either that or we tie you up in the hallway and lay in wait for him to find you,” Caleb sneers, “You prefer that?”

  Jing frowns at him as Caleb adds definitively, “You’re going.”

  “No I am not.”

  “This was your base of operations Jing,” Caleb explains, “You know the layout, so you’re coming. Your lapdog’s not around to fight your battles for you right now; do you really want to challenge me on this cause I’m sure I can find some rope around here.”

  Shying away from the confrontation, Jing swallows his objections and grudgingly yields.

  “It’ll do you good mate,” Chase quips, “Get your own hands dirty for a change.”

  Gathering his foursome, Caleb leads them to the doors where he pauses to give final instructions. “As soon as we’re out of here, use the tables, chairs, whatever you can find to barricade yourselves in here.”

  “What about weapons?” Hong speaks up, “I mean, shouldn’t we have something?”

  “We only have two guns now,” Caleb points out, “And one needs to remain here. I’m sure there are knives in the kitchen but knowing Heath’s proficiency with a blade, bringing him knives doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  “What about this seems like a good idea?” Jing grouses.

  Ignoring him, Caleb opens the door. With a final look back he says, “Stay close behind me—single file. Let’s go.”

  As the group departs and is swallowed by the shadows, Cole sets to work with Cummings moving tables and chairs in front of the doors. Given the length of wall that is glass it is at best a futile attempt at security.

  But it is all they have.

  His eyes snap open and he is immediately wracked by coughing.

  Something out in the darkness, a noise perhaps, has put him on alert.

  Rolling onto his side on the cold hard cement that serves as his mattress, he heaves and wretches a dry hacking cough until he is spent. As all falls quiet again he listens for what is wrong—what is out of place.

  All he can hear though is the wheezing of his tortured breath and the heavy beating of his frightened heart.

  Falling back onto the cement bed he rubs at his damp skin in an attempt to produce some type of warmth. He swears that if he could see a foot in front of his face he would be watching his breath condense, so cold is it.

  “Are you there Lynne?” he whispers to the walls in a voice hoarse from disuse.

  After a lengthy moment, she replies from across the confined space, “Yes Nick, I’m here.”

  “Thank God,” he rasps, “I hate it when you’re gone. Are you cold? Why is it always so cold?”

  “It’s the damp,” she answers matter-of-factly.

  “Can I,” he stutters, “Can I ask you a question?” When no answer comes he presses ahead, “Where do you go when you’re not in here? Does he…does he do stuff to you?”

  Her head lowers until her chin rests on top of her bosom, as she curls up in a ball bringing her knees up to her chest. Across the blackness of the room though, he can see none of this and is only met with silence as a reply.

  “I’m sorry,” he offers, “I-I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it.”

  The sounds of water slowly dripping and little legs hurriedly rushing along, fills the stillness between them.

  With no functional difference between opened and closed, Nick closes his eyes and tries again, asking meekly “Is he going to kill me?”

  After a time, during which he can hear her whimpering, she answers “You don’t want me to answer that.”

  “Why?” he pleads, “Why am I being kept here?”

  “Don’t look for reason where none can be found.”

  He begins coughing violently again, his pain echoing off the stone walls, until he once again settles back. Hiccupping slightly he says, “I trust you Lynne—even if I’ve never seen you. If he…kills me first…I want you to have something.

  “It’s what brought me here in the first place; a flash drive that has the truth about what happened here. If I don’t make it out of here and you do, use it to show the world.”

  He starts coughing again before finally trailing off into an uneasy slumber, saying as he goes, “Give it to the Times…Cole Hewitt…tell him the truth…

  “And Lynne,” he mumbles, “Do me one more favor…even if you have to lie to me…tell me it will be quick…Lynne…?”

  “Lynne,” Wendy places a hand on her knee as she crouches in front of her, “Are you all right honey? You look like you’re somewhere else.”

  Blinking the memory aw
ay, Lynne pulls her scrutiny from Cole fortifying the doors and focuses on Wendy’s smiling face. She’s known her long enough to know that the smile is phony and forced.

  Her right hand sliding over the pocket of her tattered jeans she feels the hard plastic shell of the flash drive she got from Nick. Forcing a smile of her own she breathes, “I’m fine,” as her gaze shifts to Cummings.

  As they exchange a look she recognizes the guilt in his eyes—a twisted reflection of her own.

  Sweat is stinging his eyes as he stalks the second floor corridor on the southeastern side of the building. Taking one hand off the outstretched Glock, Caleb wipes it across his forehead to mop up some of the cold sweat.

  As he does the pain in his ribs flares up and he does his best to hide the discomfort from his companions.

  “This is it,” he declares as they come upon debris scattered across the floor and several lockers hanging open. “This is where Cummings said Watkins and Frazier were working last.”

  “And what do we do with that mate?”

  Glancing back at Chase, Caleb instructs “Fan out and see if you can find any clues; any signs of a struggle.”

  As they begin to root through the tossed locker contents, Caleb takes a moment to lean against the wall and try to get the increasing pain in his chest to subside.

  “Are you OK?” Hong asks him as he notices his erratic breathing.

  With a shallow breath Caleb responds, “I’m fine. Anyone find anything?”

  Hong shakes his head and Jing scoffs from a few feet away, “Papers, pens, and notebooks and then this…” he holds up a scrap of paper saying, “The key to everything I’m sure.”

  Unfolding the note he reads: “Doug loves Anne forever. And look Agent, there’s a heart around it too.”

  “Having fun are we Jing?”