by Jo Davis
“A f-firefighter?”
“Yeah. How we found you is a long story you’ll hear after you’re back with your family, safe and sound. But first you’ve got to tell me where I can find the keys, son.”
“Keys? I—I don’t know. Let me think.”
“When they come down here, do they bring the keys with them?” Dangerous ground. He didn’t want to trigger a round of hysteria by reminding him of his captors, but he needed Brett’s help.
“I—no! No, there’s no jingling noise when they come,” he said hoarsely, getting excited. “That comes later. After they’ve been to their room.”
“So they get the keys from there?”
“Y-yes, I’m sure they do.”
“Where is this room, Brett?”
“Keep going, to your right. Down there, not far. N-never takes them long to come back.”
“All right. My lady friend and I are going to go look and we’ll be right back.”
“Please, no! Don’t leave me here!”
“Brett, I’m Grace,” she said from Julian’s left side. “I’ll stay right here and talk to you, okay?”
Brett sniffled. “All right.”
He grasped her hand. “Bella, I’m not leaving you here in the dark.”
“He’s been in the dark this whole time,” she said stubbornly. “A few minutes won’t hurt. We’ll be fine.”
They didn’t have time to debate. Sean and Six-Pack were going to wonder soon why they hadn’t checked in. “Don’t move an inch. I’ll be right back.”
Giving her a quick kiss, he moved up the corridor, glancing into the other cells. All were empty, and he tried not to imagine what had befallen the previous occupants. Most likely Brett knew, and coming to grips with his ordeal would take years of love and therapy.
Locating the door at the end of the tunnel took only a couple of minutes. Unlike the cells, this door was wooden, crudely fashioned. More importantly, it wasn’t locked. He pushed the door open, swept the light around the chamber, and gasped. Fought down a wave of sickness.
He no longer had to imagine how the victims died.
The room was awash in dark stains that could only be blood. Several tables against the rock wall, the floor, coated in it. The tabletops bristled with all sorts of axes, saws, pliers, rods, hammers, and other items he didn’t care to name. In one corner, a video camera provided silent testament to the truly evil acts committed here. Julian prayed the police found film.
In the middle of the torture chamber was a metal gurney covered in blood, scratches, and dents.
Bile rose in his throat and he averted his eyes, frantically searching for the keys. A hook on the wall? There were many things hung on the wall, none of them what he sought. He began scanning the tables, knowing better than to touch anything unless he had to. The cops would need this stuff as evidence.
Time was ticking away. He needed to get back to Grace and Brett. If he didn’t find the keys soon, they’d have to leave Brett and phone the cops from outside. The thought of doing that to the kid was unacceptable.
He was about ready to try to find something else to force the door open, or maybe even blow the lock, when his light caught a glitter of twisted metal between two saws.
“Thank God.” A small ring was nestled there, as though tossed carelessly by the last user. He grabbed it and hurried out.
In his beam he could see Grace sitting on the rocky floor next to the bars, holding the kid’s hand as she talked to him in soothing tones. He was leaning against the bars as close to her as possible, seeking comfort.
“Hold on, Brett. We’re getting you out,” he said, joining them. “Baby, hold the flashlight for me.”
After she freed his hands, he went through the keys, trying them one by one. His hands shook with adrenaline and a pure fear he’d never experienced before, not even the day he’d fled from Derek. But Brett seemed more calm and was actually standing, for which Julian was grateful.
The next-to-last key turned, and the lock scraped open. “Yes! Brett, can you walk?”
“I think so.” He sounded distant, in shock, fading.
Julian pocketed the keys to give to the cops and opened the door. It gave with a loud squeal that made him cringe, and Brett hobbled out to meet them. “Here, let’s give you some privacy, huh?”
He stripped off his shirt and quickly used the sleeves to tie it around Brett’s waist, covering the essentials. The kid had enough to deal with, and he sure didn’t need to face the oncoming barrage of cops and paramedics bare-assed naked.
“Th-thanks, man.”
“No sweat. Put your arm around me and let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Brett did okay at first, but the closer they got to the mouth of the cave, the weaker he became. Julian was never so glad to see Sean and Six-Pack as the moment they emerged from the tunnel. His friends rushed toward them, surprised exclamations punctuating the darkness.
“Jesus Christ!”
“Is that him?” Sean asked.
“Guys, this is Brett Charles. Brett’s been through hell and back, and he needs to get down to the truck while we call the cops.” He spoke to his charge. “Brett, these are firefighter friends I work with. We’re going to take good care of you.”
“Yes . . . sir.”
Brett’s knees buckled. Julian kept him from hitting the ground and Howard scooped the kid effortlessly into his big arms, carrying him out of the cave.
“I called 911,” Sean said. “We need to make tracks. We came back to tell you there’re two men at the house, and one is holding your friend Carmelita at gunpoint. From where we were hiding, we heard them discuss coming down here to put her in a cell.” Sean hurried after Six-Pack.
“Shit,” Julian breathed. He made to follow them, but Grace grabbed his arm.
“Wait, what about the other cells?”
“They’re empty.”
“Are you sure? There are a lot of shadows and crannies. You could sweep a flashlight over something down there and not even see it.”
She was right. What if he’d missed someone? “Catch up with them and I’ll go back and check.”
“No, we go together or not at all.”
A low hum and whirring noise cut off their debate, and the cave was suddenly bathed in a pool of dim light. The lights were set into recesses and behind rock formations, out of the way and unnoticeable in the dark. Somehow, the place appeared more eerie with them on.
“I vote you go together, too,” a voice said with a nervous laugh.
Shoving Grace behind him, Julian whirled to see Derek and Konrad blocking the way out. As Sean had reported, Konrad was holding a gun to Carmelita’s head, fingers digging into her arm. Her eyes were wide with terror and confusion, and anger bloomed in his gut.
Assessing the odds, he noted Konrad appeared to be the only one armed. Derek had one hand in his pants pocket, fiddling with something. His dick, most likely. He kept glancing behind him as though expecting someone, probably Warren. Thank God Howard and Sean had gotten away with Brett. It occurred to Julian that the two men in front of them had no idea he’d been sprung.
The biggest challenge was stalling them until the police arrived. At which point these men would surrender peacefully. Not.
Plan B, he had to get the gun away from Konrad, create a way for the women to get to safety. If only he could distract the bastard.
“You know, Julian, I’m very sorry it had to come to this,” Derek said, sounding strangely sincere. “I’m sorry you had to recognize Carl here while he was with your friend. It’s unfortunate, but sometimes things are out of our control.”
Carl, not Konrad. He’d known the name was a fake.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed down his anger and decided to try to appeal to Derek’s sensitive side. If he possessed one. “You can control this. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, Derek. I can see that.”
Derek looked sad. “I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone, not even you, back then. But I owe her; can�
�t you understand? She has a need only I can help her fulfill, and she’s the only one who loves me. She takes care of me, sees that my angels make me happy.”
He swallowed hard. “Make you happy, how?”
“I love them. They give themselves to me, and I’d never hurt them if it was my decision. But it isn’t,” he said, voice wavering.
Julian felt ill. “You rape them? You sick fuck.”
“No! I love them! They’re precious to me, but she knows best. They can’t stay forever, and nobody else would understand. They’d lock us away and that’s why I can’t let you leave. I don’t want this, but that’s the way it must be. I’m sorry.”
“You’re all criminally insane,” Julian said, clenching his fists. “Who is she? A figment of your imagination? You molested me that day, when I was drugged and out of my head. Right?”
“Wrong. I was the one who had the pleasure.”
Zoe Vines stepped inside, and Julian’s mind reeled. She was dressed in jeans, a blouse, and brown hiking boots rather than her designer clothes—more suitable for visiting her den. Behind him, Grace tightened her grip on his waist, but his attention was riveted on the beautiful monster in front of him.
This lovely, composed society lady was a madwoman. A mass murderer. A woman who had touched him as he lay helpless, long ago. A woman who’d molested God knew how many young people, butchered them horribly. She would’ve killed him, and he’d escaped a grisly fate.
He wanted to be sick.
Zoe sauntered closer, a catlike smile on her lips. “I’d had my eye on you all summer, so Derek brought you to me, like a good son. He drugged you, but I was the one who played with your delectable body, and you quite enjoyed yourself. Pity you don’t remember.” Her finger cupped his crotch, stroking.
“You twisted bitch,” he snarled.
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken.
“I’d intended to have Carl take you to our facility and keep you there with my other toys until I tired of you. Imagine my disappointment when you awoke while I was distracted by the doorbell.”
Grace gasped, but he didn’t have time to puzzle over her reaction.
“Why did you allow me to get away?” he asked, curious. “You knew where I lived, could have finished me anytime.”
“Yes, I could have. But who would’ve believed a disoriented boy with little or no memory of what happened? Even your dear mother didn’t believe you enough to risk the ugly story getting out. A veiled threat from Warren and she went away quietly.”
He chose to ignore the barb about Mama. “He knows you kidnap and murder people?”
“Of course he does, but he doesn’t get involved. Don’t ask, don’t tell,” she giggled.
Of course Warren knew. They all needed to be locked up forever.
“There is one more reason I let you go. I suppose a sentimental part of me hoped we’d meet again one day, and the story would end the way it was meant to,” she said.
That gave him chills. All these years, a murderer had never forgotten him. “I’ll pass on the tearful reunion, thanks.”
Reaching a hand out to Derek, Zoe waited as he placed a small object in her palm. He couldn’t tell what it was before her hand closed around it.
“I generally prefer my flesh younger, but I confess I would have enjoyed a sampling of the delicious man you’ve become. Now you and your friends must die, and I have the dreadfully inconvenient task of relocating again.”
At that moment, he spied Sean lurking at the mouth of the cave. He spared a second to wonder where Six-Pack was, but remembered Brett’s fragile state. The young man couldn’t be left alone, and someone had to wait for the cops. Sean moved on cat feet, sneaking up behind Carl, and nodded.
“You know what? Go fuck yourself, you crazy puta.”
Sean lunged for Carl, hitting his gun arm into the air. The weapon discharged with a loud bang, sending a shower of rock down on them all. Several voices screamed.
Capitalizing on the distraction, Julian slammed his fist into Derek’s face, dropping him like a stone. Spinning, he spotted Carmelita running to help Grace, who was sitting on the floor holding her head.
“Grace!” He took a step toward her, but saw Zoe fleeing out of the cave. “Dammit!”
He couldn’t let her get away. He rushed out in pursuit as Sean dragged Carl along, having knocked the gun away and punched his lights out. Good for him. The man was spoiling for a fight half the time lately, and tonight he’d gotten one.
Julian stumbled down the slope after Zoe, and suddenly they were both brought up short by several cops bursting from the shadows, guns drawn.
“Freeze!”
He didn’t move a muscle, and when Shane stepped into a beam from another cop’s light, Julian’s knees went weak. “Shane.”
“Thank fuck.” Addressing another cop, Ford pointed to Zoe. “Read Mrs. Vines her rights.”
Very slowly, Zoe raised her right hand, a weird grin on her face. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
Shane turned to her. “Ma’am, drop what’s in your hand. Now.”
She inched the object higher, between her fingers, thumb hovering over a red button.
“Detonator,” he whispered to Shane, blood draining from his face. “Zoe, don’t—”
He ran back toward the entrance. “Grace, get out! Get out! Nooo—”
A thunderous blast shifted the earth under his feet, and blew him backward. Seared him with heat, pummeled him with shards as he fell.
Into nothingness.
Grace awoke to total blackness. Dust and dirt clogged her nose and mouth, and she coughed. “Ohh.”
Coughing hurt. So did her right arm, badly. Sharp, sickening pain and she knew without touching it that the limb was broken. She touched it anyway and wished she hadn’t. The feel of the bone poking at her skin made her violently sick, and she retched.
Once the nausea abated some, she reached out with her left arm, trying to discern how much space was around her. She pushed to her knees and cradling her right arm against her stomach, she groped the floor. Searching for a loose rock. A way out. Something.
Carmelita!
She remembered. Julian’s former lover had pushed her down when the explosion happened, shielding Grace with her own body. That the woman had done such a thing humbled her, and when they got out of there, she’d tell her so. Make her peace with Julian’s friend.
“Carmelita?”
There was no answer and she called again, and again. Nothing. Crawling awkwardly, she kept fingering her surroundings, traveling in what she thought was an odd-shaped rectangle. Where could the other woman be? They’d been together, so she must’ve moved or been knocked aside.
She had to stop and rest periodically, sitting and panting through the searing pain. Perhaps she shouldn’t be moving at all, in case she was inadvertently taking herself farther from rescue.
Julian was out there, and he’d be working to get to her. So would the police. She’d heard them outside, yelling “Freeze,” so they must’ve captured Zoe, taken her along with Derek and Carl to jail.
What had caused the explosion? It surely wasn’t natural, which meant it had been set. How?
Exhausted, dizzy, she resumed her search, calling for Carmelita. She was hurt, or unconscious. As soon as Grace found her, maybe she could help. . . .
Her hand touched something. Cloth. Under the cloth, a leg!
“Carmelita?” She shook the woman’s leg, got no response. Feeling her way upward, expecting to find the woman’s chest, she discovered a large boulder instead.
It took her a moment to process the terrible reality as she ran her shaking hand up the large rock, searching for the woman’s neck to check her pulse. But there was nothing but boulder.
Carmelita was dead. Her entire upper half had been crushed.
“Oh no.” She moaned, scooting away. “No.”
Pulling her knees up to her chest, still cradling her broken arm, she laid her head down and cried. She’d never wante
d something awful to happen to Carmelita. This was going to kill Julian.
“I love you,” she whispered to him. But he wasn’t there to hear her. She cried harder.
For all her fears of reaching for what she wanted, keeping him at a distance, it might end like this. With her alone in the dark forever, deprived of the happiness she might have found in his arms, his life, if she’d been bold enough to take it.
Oh, God, please find me. Please.
I love you, Julian. Find me.
He tried. Looked everywhere, crying her name.
Julian, I need you.
He needed her more. She was his life, his soul. Where was she?
Voices interrupted his search, pulling him toward them.
“. . . think he’s coming around. BP’s good.”
“Anything broken?”
“Don’t think so. Just some nasty cuts and scrapes.”
“Jules? Come on, man, rise and shine.” Howard? He thought so, but the voice was strangely muffled, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder.
“Grace,” he croaked. Didn’t they know he had to find her?
“I know, buddy. Take it easy.”
“Where?”
“They’re digging, trying to get to her,” Sean said. “They’ll find her.”
“Digging?” Prying his eyes open, he winced. His brain was skewered by piercing floodlights. Gradually, his vision adjusted and he realized several paramedics were hovering over him, guys from Station Two, he thought, plus Sean and Six-Pack. He struggled to sit up and a couple of sets of hands steadied him.
“Whoa, not so fast,” one medic cautioned. “We need to take you in, get you examined.”
He pushed at their hands. “Let me up. Where’s Grace?” They shot quick, uneasy looks at one another. But not quick enough. The explosion.“Where is she? She got out, right?”
Sympathy. Carved into their faces. Howard’s hand resting on his shoulder, as though keeping him from flying apart.
Digging.
“Dios mío.” He staggered to his feet, shook them off. “Grace? Bella?”
Dizziness assailed him, but he kept his feet, looking around in confusion. His love was somewhere in this chaos. She had to be. Cops and firefighters swarmed over the landscape, some talking into cell phones or walkie-talkies, some writing on notepads. Shane was nearby, making order out of hell, talking to some of his men and pointing toward the house.