I respond as calmly as possible. “Where am I?” Speaking drives another streak of pain through my head.
Gleefully, Blackwater responds, “Somewhere you can scream as loud as you want and we will remain undisturbed.”
His voice hurts too. I can feel his soul dripping in evil, invading my sixth sense.
“You hit me hard. How long was I out?”
“Only a bit, my dear.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
Blackwater frowns. “I want the amulet, of course.”
“What amulet?”
Blackwater claps his hands together. “Wonderful!” he says. “I thought you would say that. I already know that you know too much. I understand that my uniquely acquired magical artifacts are now being researched within the precinct. My job as Councilman is now over, thanks to you. Not that I mind. It was an irritating pretense.”
He wants to talk and enjoys bragging. I’ll go along with it to give Jack and Gambino more time.
I prompt him further. “What magical artifacts are you talking about?”
“Why, the ones you are wearing, amongst others.”
I’m surprised at this. I tilt my head down, and with a dawning horror, I see a fine mesh collar around my upper chest and shoulders: the Belladonna Necklace. I wiggle my fingers and toes and feel a heavy ring on my left hand.
Blackwater smiles slightly. “Yes, the Ring of Truth. I can tell when you lie, so don’t bother. And the Belladonna Necklace prevents you from using magic. Not that a Sensitive is much of a threat. Where is the amulet?”
Strange, I don’t feel any different. I reach inside, and my sixth sense feels normal. I can feel the malevolent thrill Blackwater is getting from having me at his mercy. I can feel the baseness of his greed and the evil at his core. It is like a black, oily pit centered around his body where his soul should be. It seems the necklace isn’t working, but of course I can’t let him know that.
Blackwater slaps me across the face, snapping my head back. Lightning streaks through my brain. When I can see again, Blackwater is standing in front of me with that mad smile on his face.
“Bluebell, we are wasting time. Where is the amulet?”
I hope that if I keep my responses as questions, the ring will not reveal my lie. I ask, “What amulet are you talking about?”
Blackwater reaches behind his back and pulls out a whip with a long leather braid. He holds it up, waving it gently, letting the long thong undulate back and forth. Shivers go through me that have nothing to do with the biting cold. Things just got very serious very quickly. I can feel Blackwater’s enjoyment, and I have not a doubt in my mind that he would use the whip. In fact, I can feel his anticipation. But I also know there is no way I am letting this man get closer to the book that would allow him to control demons, spirits, and souls. There is no way I can allow this man have the power to wreak havoc on the world, not with his evilness.
Blackwater asks, “Do we need to use this? Where is the amulet?”
I grit my teeth and say, “What amulet?”
Blackwater smiles all the way to his eyes. “I’d hoped you would play at least a little.”
He moves behind me, and as he does I notice he has a slight limp. “Why are you limping? Did my bullet find you under the semi?” I ask innocently.
Blackwater snarls. “You’ll pay for that too.”
I hear the brief rushing of air a second before I feel the strike in the middle of my back. I clench my muscles and jump. Then I feel another strike across my left shoulder blade. It feels like fire. My back muscles are all clenched. My eyes are clenched. My mouth is clenched. Then another strike, and my body jolts. Then another strike, and I realize my body is no longer my own to control.
Blackwater pauses and cajoles, “Where is the amulet, Bluebell?’
I am breathing heavily now. It would be so easy to give in. I harden my resolve, and I say through panting breaths, “What amulet?”
Blackwater cackles with glee. I try to prepare myself. I understand now that there will be no relaxing. The pain is too great. My back is already on fire. Blackwater whips me again. I try to go somewhere else in my mind. I remember an afternoon at the orphanage spent on the lake with sunshine and cool water. I try to breathe evenly.
Blackwater lays the whip down harder now, and with each stroke my whole body jerks. The next stroke pulls me out of my thoughts and back to the room as the whip hits the necklace and the chains dig into my skin. I desperately try to retreat in my mind again. I imagine cool water rushing over my skin. The whip falls again and again, and I jolt and spasm under it. The pain is so great and the urge to cry uncle pressures my brain. Two more lashes and Blackwater pauses again.
He asks, “Where is the amulet?”
This time I don’t bother to answer him.
Blackwater coaxes me from behind. “Bluebell, just tell me where the amulet is and this will all be over. There is no need for more pain. Just be a good girl.”
I continue my silence, trying to breathe evenly, taking every second of solace.
Blackwater comes around to my front. He reaches his hand out and draws it across my breasts almost lovingly. I shrink from his hand, but I can’t move far. He fondles one breast, then another. He asks, “Why ruin such lovely skin, Bluebell? It seems such a shame.”
I laugh inside that he is trying to appeal to my vanity. I spit in his face. A bit glob of it runs off his forehead, and he wipes it off of his brow distastefully with his sleeve. He sets his mouth in a grim line and walks behind me again. I feel the familiar rush of air as my warning. He whips me with all of his strength now. I recognize the scent of iron in the air from my own blood. I can’t catch my breath and am heavily panting. Each lash that rains on me drives lightning shots of pain and fire up my back and into my brain. My previous pain from the gun handle is long forgotten. I can’t imagine how the human mind can actually receive so many pain signals at once.
I try to keep silent, but as the lashes keep falling, I can feel my skin splitting and shreds of it being peeled off my back. I scream in my mind so loudly I can’t tell if I am screaming out loud. I can’t count the strikes. At some point I feel warmth rush down my leg, and I realize that I just urinated on myself. But I’m well beyond feeling shame.
Later, though I don’t know how much later because every second lasts an eternity, I realize that my whole body is just dangling from the shackles now. My legs can’t hold me. The whip still rains down on me. Then blessed darkness comes.
Chapter 57
Warehouse District
Jack Tanner: June 2, 2022, Red Ages
We pull up to the Cock and Bull Tap and exit the car. I point to the first warehouse on the street, a short, steel structure, looking squat against the darkening sky with the last pink rays of the sun streaming behind it. “We will start here and move all the way up the street, then circle back.”
Xavier takes a look down the long street. “You want covert, right?”
“Yes.”
Xavier looks back at me. “How about I go ahead and start gaining access to the back doors. I’ll disable any security systems along the way, and you two can follow behind and do the searching.”
Ernesto says, “I should come with you to scout for security guards.” He looks at me with a calm I wish I could feel. “If there is a guard, I will place three stones by the back door so you know not to enter that way. Then I’ll place another three stones by a window or vent or other location we open up instead of the back door.”
Evening is on us, and I am anxious to start. “Let’s get going.”
Ernesto turns to me, looking resolute, and grasps both my forearms in his own. “We will find her, mi amigo.”
I try to take strength from my longtime friend’s support, but it gives only a weak glimmer of light in the abyss of darkness I’m stranded in. I can only say, “We will get every building. Let’s not leave one undone.”
Then I run to the back door of the first warehouse. Xavier run
s after me, his ebony skin melting into the shadows. Ernesto gracefully circles around the building, listening and smelling for life. He must hear no sign, as he gives Xavier the nod. Xavier’s excitement is palpable. There is nothing he enjoys more than the challenge of covert entry. He quickly unlocks the door, and I slip in as Xavier and Ernesto are on to the next building.
I do a quick run through of the entire building. It’s a one floor open warehouse with a small office. I smell every crate, thankful each time that I do not smell Blue in one of them. I press my ear to the floor and listen for signs of life below. Then I move on to the next warehouse.
This one has three stones by the door. I find another three stones under a vent on the roof. I grasp the ridging of the steel walls and easily climb up. The vent lid is loose. I remove it and peer in. It’s a fifteen foot drop. I hold on to the vent lid and silently drop inside, landing with ease. The security guard is in a small office with a window facing the main aisle that is flanked by shelves and shelves of boxed goods. I use the corner of the back wall and climb up to the roof. Then I swing from steel beam to steel beam until I have viewed and scented the entire open space.
I drop noiselessly in the front corner of the warehouse out of view of the security guard. Crouched down, I make my way below the office window, quickly scanning my senses through the wall for life. I only smell and hear the security guard. I cross to the other side, climb the wall, then scale the ceiling beams to the back of the building. I lever myself through the vent hole. Then, grasping on to the ridges of the building again, I replace the vent and drop back down.
I continue on to the next building, and the next, and the next. At each large crate I am filled with hope that Blue is not inside. At the end of each building my heart plummets that we haven’t found her yet. When we are done with over thirty buildings on this street, we move on to the next street, and then the next. The night wears on, and my hope becomes dimmer and dimmer.
Finally, when every building has been searched and the night has grown old, we reconvene at the Cock and Bull Tap. Ernesto looks grim, and Xavier looks worn. I want to scream into the night air, howl my frustration at the stars. Instead I open the car that Rubalia had parked here and toss several bags of blood to Ernesto, taking my own fill. Rubalia packed more earthy sustenance for Xavier, and he enjoys it ravenously.
We head inside the Cock and Bull Tap near closing time. Xavier heads toward the men’s bathroom. I order a beer and sit quietly with Ernesto. The noise of the bar, loud men and women laughing and slurring their words, grates on me. How can they not know that such a precious person is lost and in trouble? How can they go on enjoying their lives when all joy is gone from mine?
When Xavier returns, he nods, and I hand him the beer. I then head toward the men’s bathroom, pass it up, and continue on to the “No Entrance” door beyond it. I open it and quickly ascend the staircase to the upper floor of the Cock and Bull Tap. It appears to be a residence, clean, comfortable, and small. I quickly do a check and find no life here.
Damn it! I need to find her! She is in trouble. I know it.
My chest aches, and my insides are cold. I take a minute to lean against the door and remember her as I saw her yesterday. She was sitting in the office, going over all the logic of why it must have been Tobias Blackwater who tortured Jason. She spoke intelligently and vivaciously, so full of life and quiet strength. She is a veritable warrior in her own way, digging and poking until she finds the truth. She spoke with such logical reasoning and determination that somehow fit perfectly with her beautiful face and that arresting blue lock that stands out from her chocolate brown hair. She has no idea how beautiful she is, inside and out.
I repeat her name in my head, letting it echo around. Blue. Blue. Blue. I should never have left you alone! With this last thought, I push myself away from the door. Missing her and hurting for her will not help her.
I return to join Xavier and Ernesto downstairs, shaking my head at the outcome of my search.
Xavier has dark circles under his eyes and is slumping in his chair. “Xavier, I think you should get some rest and join up with us tomorrow morning.”
Xavier yawns and says, “Sorry, I wish I could go on endlessly like you guys, but I will be better help after some shut-eye.”
I give him a half-hearted smile. I can’t quite muster the whole thing. “I know. Why don’t you use the car that Rubalia left us? Stock up on blood for when you meet up with us tomorrow. We’re heading back to the island to do some more searching.”
Ernesto asks, “What is next, mi amigo?”
“We are going to search up and down the river. We are going to find her.”
Chapter 58
Into the Darkness
Bluebell Kildare: June 2, 2022, Red Ages
I gradually awaken from the searing pain in my back and a biting pain in my arms. My body is hanging from my arms, which are still above my head, held in place by the shackles around my wrists. The iron is cutting into my numb hands from the weight of my body.
But that is nothing compared to the pain in my back. My back is a living fire! Every small movement sends another rush of muscle spasms and twitches through my back. I can smell a strong metallic scent in the air, and I know that is from my own blood, pooling on the floor. I also recognize the heavy, acrid scent that is mixed with the scent of iron. It is coming from the urine pooled around my feet. My inner thighs and legs burn from where it has sat on my skin for hours, and the soles of my feet are damp from it.
Ohh, no! This is exactly what happened to Jason. He had calluses on his wrists and arms from these shackles. His feet were rotting, and the smell of human feces and urine covered him. My feet will be rotting soon too if I don’t get out of here.
I stop thinking for a minute as another wave of muscle spasms rips across my back. The horror begins to set in my mind. My back is just like Jason’s. I am exactly where Jason was. How did this happen to me? I was supposed to be capturing Blackwater, not getting captured by him.
I slowly stand so that my legs are supporting my weight, and a thousand pinpricks filled my hands as the blood gradually returns. My mouth is parched, my lips cracked. It’s completely dark in here, and freezing too. I’m shivering and I feel feverish, but more than that, the air is simply cold. I feel small and lost in the darkness, and panic begins to rise in me again. I push those feeling away and instead focus on how grateful I am that the solitude announces so loudly the absence of Blackwater.
I wonder where Jack and Gambino are. I wonder where I am. Where can you scream and have nobody hear? I wonder if they’ll find me in time. How much time has passed? How much time do I have? The questions stretch on endlessly, but not as far as the darkness.
I decide that this line of thinking will drive me mad. Instead it is better to investigate the darkness with my senses to see what I can learn. I can hear a light but distinct plop, plop, plop sound behind me to the left and up high. Is that water dripping? I close my eyes and listen carefully. I can hear a softer and duller dlop, dlop that sounds lower to the ground. I think the sharper, higher noise is water dripping onto the protruding edge of a rock on the wall, and the softer noise is water dripping onto the earthen floor. All of the water drops seem to be coming from behind me.
I smell the air. Behind the scent of urine and blood I can smell the rich, decaying scent of moist earth. I open my eyes again. There is no light to be seen. Not even a crack of light, not a single ray of sunshine. I’m in complete darkness. I remember the beam above me, but I don’t recall the ceiling behind the beam. What is the beam attached to? Cripes! I should have been more attentive!
So the sounds—is it raining somewhere, or am I just near water?
My legs are cramping with cold. I shift my weight to ease the worst of the cramping, and a roll of excruciating pain washes through my back again. I hold still and breathe evenly until the pain subsides.
I decide to reach out to feel the darkness with my sixth sense. I close down my sens
es and open up my sixth sense. It flares to life stronger than ever before. The Belladonna Necklace definitely isn’t hurting my abilities. If anything, it’s helping them. I can sense my own fear and pain permeating the room, and I can feel the vile, malicious madness that is Blackwater’s signature.
Beyond that, I feel remnants of terror and aloneness that still remain from Jason. He was in this room. I feel it in little wisps of emotions that linger and waft toward me like scents blowing past me in a breeze. It’s unbelievable that I can feel this after so much time! I also catch the feeling of his quiet strength, so weak now that it is hardly there. But it is there.
I push my internal sense further outward, hoping to find the souls of people. I push past the boundaries of the room, seeking at all sides for some sign of others. Nothing. No, not true. There is something. I can sense several tiny souls, oblivious and ravenous, from behind the walls. They are down the tunnel, perhaps. Some small hungry creatures live down here with me. I am stunned and elated that I can feel the souls of animals now, but at the same time, my mind shudders from the thought of the hungry creatures and the blood at my feet that is surely calling to them. I am immobile. A new horror at my situation begins to set in, but I push the thought away. Fear will not serve me well now.
I slowly withdraw my sixth sense and pull it back in. I let my regular senses rise, and I focus on the sound of the darkness again. The agony of my back and the cramping in my legs return to me. My arms hurt so bad from holding them over my head for so long. And my fingers… well, I have no feeling in them any longer.
I try to focus away from my body. The plopping noise of the dripping water is coming more quickly now, and the lower dlop, dlop, dlop noise has become continuous. I feel a drop of water hit my head. Then one hits my shoulder. Then several more hit me on my cold and fevered body. I feel it stinging my back, but my back is so pain-filled it hardly registers. My skin feels clammy and feverish all at once. I shiver with cold.
The Light Who Shines Page 35