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Seven Bridges

Page 19

by Ciana Stone


  "What makes you think he'll go for it?"

  Izzi didn't hold back and was honest with Gib in her answer. "I'm not sure he would go through with a trade, but I'd bet the farm that he'd pretend to go along with it, just to get us in the same place."

  "We're back to that? Using you as bait?"

  "Well, what would you prefer, Gib? That we start making a habit of literally picking up the pieces of your team after he slaughters them?"

  She could tell her words were the mental equivalent of a slap and felt terrible for being so blunt. Still, she needed him to understand the severity of the situation. He was, right now, brutally murdering Tamara, and she was just the beginning. If they didn't do something to catch him, he would not stop until they were all dead.

  And she was once more his prisoner.

  Gib was silent for a long time, so long she started to slide off his lap. But his hands wrapped around her upper arms and stopped her. "If we do this, I'm going to be with you every second. You won't be allowed out of my sight. And we have to make sure whatever location we choose, it has state of the art surveillance.

  "Okay but-"

  "Let me finish, in addition, agents will be clandestinely posted to keep watch. They'll be on a two minutes response time if we call on them."

  Izzi waited for a beat, then responded. "One provision."

  "What's that?"

  "That we don't tell the rest of the team."

  "Why?"

  She could tell the truth without revealing things she needed to keep hidden a while longer. "Because I think he's somehow in contact and knows what goes on with us. We can't let anyone on our team know this plan."

  He nodded. "Then I'll put them to work clearing everyone, anyone any of us have come into contact with."

  "That will take a while."

  "Exactly. And while they are doing that, we will be on a short leave of absence."

  "Where?"

  "We won't tell anyone until we're in place."

  "Okay, can I make a suggestion?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "My house. It's remote enough he'd feel secure trying to take me there, and due to its remoteness, not likely for anyone to notice if we have the surveillance set up in advance. I can make a point of letting it be known in advance that I'm having some work done to the place – upgrading old wiring and plumbing, that sort of thing."

  "That's a good idea."

  She nodded."Then, we have the beginning of a plan?"

  "We do."

  Izzi hugged him, holding on tight. She had to figure out the truth of what happened the night her mother and brother were killed, dig out the memories that had been buried. There was power in that knowledge, a power she might well need to stand a chance of defeating her monster.

  And this time, when she faced him, she had to defeat him. If she couldn't use her abilities to drag him out of the darkness and into the light where his evil could not survive, then she had to be willing to put an end to him in a way Gib would probably hate, but would nonetheless support.

  She had to be willing to kill him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Concord, North Carolina

  Izzi had never feared storms. Just the opposite. She marveled at the power of nature and felt humbled by it. Storms reminded her of just how powerless humans were in comparison to nature.

  Plus, she loved the sound of rain on the roof, the rumble of thunder and the sound of wind in the trees. Storms were a time to snuggle up in a warm place, sip a good cup of tea, or perhaps a cup of tea laced with a shot of whiskey and relax.

  She felt the coming of the storm just before dusk. With it came an unexpected wave of anxiety. Izzi stepped out onto the back porch, looked around and sniffed the air. There was an unusual energy tonight, and it wasn't from the approaching storm.

  Gib walked out of the house and stood beside her. "Everything okay?"

  "I don't know. There's something…I don't know– something."

  "The storm, maybe?"

  "No, not the storm."

  "Him?" Gib put his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her up to his side. She could feel his holstered weapon pressing against her, reminding her how much she hated this situation.

  She looked up at him and then out at the gathering darkness. "I don't know."

  "Well, if he comes, we're ready."

  "We've been ready for two weeks." She knew he was as tired of the wait as she. For the first few days, they both jumped at every creak of the house. Now they were just frustrated. "Maybe he knows."

  "He couldn't. We were too careful."

  Izzi knew he wanted to think they were. She did, too. But the truth was, she didn't trust anyone aside from Gib, and she believed if there was a way to ferret out the information on what they were doing, her monster would find that way. However, now wasn't the time to argue that point with Gib. They were both tense and restless, waiting for something to happen while being filled with dread.

  "I love you, Gib."

  He turned her to face him. "I love you, Iz. We'll make it through this."

  "I hope so. I've wished so long that you and I–" She couldn't finish the sentence. Her throat constricted, and she was suddenly cold.

  Hello, my love.

  I'm sorry to make you wait so long.

  And I know you've been waiting for me.

  Do you remember our first time?

  You cried so pretty. I licked those tears, sang to you as I loved you.

  Do you remember?

  Izzi sucked in a breath, like someone rising from beneath the waves, desperate for air. In her head, his voice crooned.

  So never leave me lonely. Tell me you love me only. And that you'll always… Let it be me.

  "Gib!" Her hands clutched at him, even as her legs gave way. Hearing that song was like someone setting an explosive charge in her mind that shook the foundations of her mind, dislodging the blockages that barred her from remembering.

  She was so close. Images danced and swam in a mix of fast and lazy currents, almost within reach.

  Almost.

  Can you see clearly now, my love?

  Izzi moaned, unaware that she'd made a sound. Her monster was there, and his question was the missing piece, the key that finally unlocked all the memories that had been hidden.

  At last, the door was open. All she had to do was step through.

  Even with the urgency to take the step pulling at her, she was aware of the danger. Once she crossed that threshold, she might never emerge. She had to consider that it might be a cunning trap. Entice her with the memories she so desperately wanted to recover and trap her within her own mind.

  Are you strong enough?

  His question was an echo from the past. He'd asked her that before and tonight her answer was the same it had been all those years ago when she was but seven years old and terrified by the carnage she'd been forced to witness.

  I will destroy you.

  She heard the steel in her own astral voice and the sound of his chuckle.

  That's my girl.

  Then a maelstrom claimed her, and she was catapulted back in time, like Dorothy, spinning through a tornado. Only she wasn't unceremoniously dumped in a strange land. No indeed. Her landscape was all too familiar.

  And all too terrifying.

  "Look, Izzi, look!"

  Izzi sometimes hated those words. Donny always wanted her to watch him play, see him make his character on the video game jump or run. She usually would make a polite comment, praise him for his skills, or just smile and say, "Way to go!" But sometimes, she wished he would just let her play with her cards and not have to pay attention to him.

  Like tonight. She was so close to winning. Her dad had taught her to play solitaire last year when she was six, and it'd taken her a whole year to get good at the game. Still, she couldn't hurt Donny's feelings, so she looked at the television and then smiled at him. "Wow, you're really getting good."

  His smile made her glad she'd been kind. Jus
t like her Grandpa always said, "if you can choose to be anything, be kind."

  Izzi heard voices from the kitchen and frowned. Her Mama had a visitor, and Izzy didn't much like it. Why would Mama invite a man over to their home while Daddy was away?

  Izzi didn't even know who the man was, but her Mama had put on one of her nice dresses and fixed her hair and put on makeup and everything.

  She thought about going into the kitchen but decided against it. Her Mama told her to stay in the room with Donny, and Izzi didn't want to get into trouble, so she turned her attention back to her card game.

  It wasn't until she heard an odd sound at the door to the bedroom that she realized the voices had stopped. Izzi looked toward the door, and at that moment, her mother was sort of pushed through the opening.

  A man dressed all in black, with gloves covering his hands and a tight black mask that covered his face and head, had hold of her Mama. One of his gloved hands was tangled in her hair, and the other held a knife to her neck, the knife her dad used to clean fish they caught at Miller's pond.

  Fear made her heart jump in her chest and sweat break out all over her. Izzi didn't know what to do except scoot over to Donny and put herself in front of him. The man in black laughed, and it sounded strange. He pushed Izzi's mother further into the room, and that's when another surprise was delivered.

  Two teenage boys entered with the man in black. Two beautiful boys, at least to Izzi's eyes. They hurried over to her and Donny, smiling like they were friends.

  They most certainly were not. They were the children of the monster.

  The realization jolted Izzi from the memory. How could she have forgotten? Not just the truth of that night when her mother was murdered, but the truth of what she'd learned when she was kidnapped and held prisoner.

  There were two boys there on the night her mother was killed. Twins. Identical twins. They were learning from their father. Not their real father, but the man who took them from one of his kills when they were six years old. They became children of the killer the night he butchered their mother.

  He'd only wanted one of them to replace the son he killed the night he murdered his own wife, but one of the boys was clever. Clever enough to convince the man to take them both. Over the course of time, that clever boy, the only one who was given a name, learned to manipulate the father while he and his twin learned all they could.

  By the time they showed up at Izzi's house, they were far more skilled than the man who had mentored them, and a lot smarter. The night their father killed Izzi's mother, they killed him and made it look like an accident. They went to live with an elderly aunt who never caught on there were actually two of them. When the time came, they killed her too, inherited what she had, and started a life of their own – two young men with one name.

  Her legs nearly gave way beneath her. Gib supported her and led her back inside the house. "Honey, what it is?"

  "Gib, I know. I know the truth now."

  "What truth?" He guided her through the kitchen and toward the sitting room.

  "About the night my mother and Donny died. About my monster. He isn't what–" She sensed her monster a split second too late.

  Gib was also a second too late in drawing his weapon. Izzi screamed and tried to push him out of the way, but was unsuccessful. She saw a glint of light off the blade and a harsh grunt from Gib. He staggered and then grunted again.

  Izzi heard the blade cut through clothing and flesh and whirled around, lashing out in hopes of hitting her monster. Her fists met only emptiness. She turned back toward Gib. He was panting and trying, unsuccessful to draw his weapon.

  She wrapped one arm around his waist. "Hold onto me."

  It's over, Isabelle.

  I win. If you surrender now, I'll let him live.

  God, how she hated that voice, how she hated him. If only she could stop shaking. Fear was as much her enemy as he. Yet, she couldn't blame it all on him. This was a trap of her own design, one that had, unfortunately, not unfolded as planned. Every creak of wood, drip of water, or brush of leaves against a window made her heart jump in her chest.

  She helped Gib into the house and across the room, away from the door. Izzi eased him to the floor, propped against the wall. His breath was labored, and when she moved her hands from where she'd been holding onto him, they came away wet with his blood.

  She rose just enough to peer from behind the curtain of the window.

  She didn't see movement outside, but it was a cloudy night, and without the light from the moon, the yard was cast in grey on black, indistinct shapes and varying degrees of darkness that shifted in the wind of the approaching storm.

  At her feet lay the man she loved, the man who had already nearly died once trying to save her from her monster. Now his life was at risk again.

  The deepest of the stab wounds in his upper back had luckily missed his lung, but she was worried that the second might be affecting his kidney.

  The third, the one in his shoulder, didn't appear to have hit any major arteries but was bleeding profusely. The shoulder wound had obviously done more damage than she could see because he couldn't raise his arm or grip. Which meant he couldn't use his gun.

  Izzi rushed to find the first aid kit under the kitchen sink. There was tape and gauge in it. She used what she had and snatched dish towels from a drawer to bind the wounds.

  She snatched up the landline. Dead. Then she tried turning on the back porch light. Nothing happened. Had he done something to kill the electricity to the house? With the power shut down, no internet or cell reception, they were cut off. If he was going to survive, she had to get them out of there.

  The problem was, Isabelle didn't know how. The moment she opened the door, they'd be vulnerable to attack, and she was sure the monster would kill Gib this time. She couldn't let that happen, but she had no weapons. She didn't know how to fire Gib's gun, and even if he told her, she probably couldn't hit the broad side of a barn.

  Isabelle, I'm waiting for you.

  Come to me, my love.

  Don't make me kill him.

  Come to me, and he lives. Just take that step, Isabelle. Cross the last bridge that will bring you forever to me.

  The bridge. That phrase brought another rush of memories that weakened her mentally and physically. She sank back down and whispered to Gib. "Maybe if I go outside."

  "No."

  She put her fingertips to his lips. "Listen to me. I'm not going to let him kill you, and you know he doesn't want me dead, so this is the best way. I'll make a deal with him. I will make him call for an ambulance, and then I'll go with him."

  "So he can put you back inside a cage? Iz, don't. We'll fight him together. Just take my gun."

  "Gi–"

  "No, you listen. Take my gun and do exactly as I say. You can do this."

  For a split second, she hesitated. The part of her that was terrified to lose him said to just leave him there. Leave him and go make a deal with the devil so Gib could live.

  The part that was trying not to scream in terror at the idea of being a prisoner to the monster told her to take the chance. If she killed him, it was over. They were free, and the long nightmare was over.

  "Do it, Iz.

  For us. Let's end this. End him."

  "Yes," she agreed, letting herself succumb to her own darkness and need for the terror to end. "Yes. Tell me what to do."

  Within moments they were ready. She was ready. For the first time in her life, she willingly opened herself, allowing the evil to hear her.

  I have to see you. Come inside.

  She waited, trembling, and feeling her hands grow wet with sweat. The gun felt too heavy, too big. If he came in, could she pull the trigger? Could she hit him?

  Isabelle watched the door until she was nearly blind until everything seemed to merge into a featureless blur of shadow. When the door handle moved, making a slight click, she almost wet her pants.

  The door opened, and a darker form within th
e gray moved across the threshold. Two more steps and light from the window to her left slanted across a tall figure. Beside him, was a small figure, whose hand was in the grip of the monster. And holding her other hand was the monster's twin. All the air went out of Isabelle's lungs, and she nearly dropped the gun.

  "Oh, dear God."

  "Shoot, Iz," Gib panted the words, every moment, every breath an effort.

  Come, her monster urged. I promise I'll let him live. I'll let them both live.

  "Iz, shoot!"

  "I said come!" the monster's twin roared, this time not merely in her head.

  Isabelle screamed, raised the weapon, and pulled the trigger. It flashed brightly in the darkness, making spots of light dance in her vision, and the rapport of the gun made it impossible to hear.

  She felt someone grab her, trying to take the gun, and she pulled the trigger again. It sounded like another weapon fired as well, but she couldn't be sure because, in a flash, the world exploded into an endless sea of white.

  That's when she saw it, the memory that had been hidden from her. She remembered now. Remembered them holding her down while they took turns raping her. The one who delighted in causing pain laughed with delight. The other whispered to her that she just had to relax. They were making her belong to them.

  It wasn't just that once. They took her from her grandparent's home when she was eleven and again when she was fourteen.

  Izzi remembered waking up on the back porch of her grandparent's home, being scolded about running off for days and told what a horrible child she was.

  Yes, now she remembered. Being their prisoner. The twin with no name wanted to cause her pain. The other one let him, but never allowed him to cause permanent damage.

  And the one who didn't torture, removed the pain and fear. His touch insulated her from that. It was how she survived. By depending on his touch to keep her sane.

  She remembers now. They are both insane, but in different ways. The one with the name likes to see if he can outsmart everyone. And he plans the murders to keep his twin under control. If he didn't there's no telling what his twin might do.

  "I know you, now." She raised the gun and pointed it at the one who made the decisions, the one who had a name.

 

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