“Boy?”
“Alright… everyone out of the van. Fresh air will do us all some good,” Marshall said.
*******
Roy
7:36 p.m. (Western time)
Las Vegas, NV
The man in the suit spent over an hour talking with the whores on the corner. No pimps came out to stop him. No other johns came by either. He arrived with no competition, but he left alone. As if he only wanted tell a few jokes to a desperate audience, and then go home.
Detective Hadley recognized there was something different in him, so he followed the suit through the streets. The suspect’s long legs moved slow, but covered ground with each step. It wasn’t a good idea to tail a walking perp, but there was too high of a possibility for the man in the suit to have a car parked nearby. They weren’t in a residential area and there were no nearby bars, so it was unlikely he walked several miles to chat with a flock of hookers. Not to mention, it was rare for a skinny white guy to walk through the back streets of Vegas. Unless he was a serial killer.
The man in the suit was Caucasian. Roy might not have got a clear view of his face, but he knew the difference between white and full-blood Italian. Roy felt the urge to turn around and go back to the address, this man wasn’t Peretti’s goon and following a white man in a suit was a waste of time. He denied the urge though, his gut overruled his reasoning. Anyone who tells jokes to a half dozen whores for over an hour and then walks back to an abandoned building with no electricity was dangerous.
The streetlights shined against the suspect, creating an oversized shadow against the yellow brick wall in an abandoned industrial area. It looked like there were two men walking, one an average person while the other was a long-limbed giant.
His shadow disappeared as he walked through the rusty steel door in a red brick building. Roy pulled over and parked. “You should wait here,” he said, and went out the door onto the empty street. He was following a man with no direct or even indirect connection with Markie’s abduction. This was a crazy guy on the street who probably was shacking up in an empty building, that’s all. Yet, the moment Roy went into building, both he and the suit would be in danger.
The sound of the whore’s high heels clicking on the concrete came. “I’m not waiting back there. Are you crazy?”
“Suit yourself.”
Add this to the list of bad decisions; the whore wasn’t going to help in any way, she was only putting herself in the line of fire. Roy wasn’t going to save her. The best case scenario was for the man in the suit to rent her for the night, so Roy could get back to hunting Peretti. She was only here because Peretti wanted to kill her. Or at least, that’s what she thought.
But maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe she followed Roy around because she was paid to? Maybe Peretti hired her to manipulate Roy’s investigation? Maybe to convince Roy to resign? Peretti was a crafty snake, and every time Roy couldn’t seem to get rid of the hooker. It made sense.
Roy looked at the scared, ugly whore and wondered if she was smart enough. Was she capable of tricking Roy this whole time?
She wasn’t. Roy wasn’t willing to accept someone being able to pull the strings on him like Pinocchio.
If it was true though, if she got him, Roy would kill her. She was a worthless whore with no friends and a made up family. Roy knew a liar when he met one. He knew she was trash. If she thought she could use him, he would wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her. He spent the last eight years straining against the tides of bad people; she was no different, in her core. Roy was done pretending to be friends, done listening to her banter, and done being friendly. Peretti ends tonight. Anyone associated with him, too.
There was something to the theory. Roy noticed how she looked at the man in the suit. She saw him before, she knew him. There was a history. Maybe it was just another one of her desperate johns, or maybe she saw him on the night of the attacks. Roy was going to find out. One way or the other, only one person would be leaving the abandoned building alive.
*******
Jake
Sundown
Brigham City, UT
He shouldn’t have been surprised by the delay. Everything at the police station moved at a snail’s pace. Jake’s story might have been the craziest one Soldier Afu heard all day, but he couldn’t expect them to act with a sense of urgency.
Finally, the Commander came in and stood over the table. He didn’t bring Soldier Afu’s warm attitude. Instead, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. The thick bags under his eyes were a good indicator of his lack of patience. Jake wouldn’t waste time with being cordial, he would simply need to answer each question with thorough details.
“You’re Jake Overman?”
“It’s actually Jake Oberhausen, but yes.”
“Corporal Afu says you survived a brutal attack last night.” His voice sounded more like he was preparing to interrogate Jake, not simply asking a question. Jake would prefer for her to come back. She seemed a lot nicer and easy to work with.
“Yes, sir. I was—”
“How did you survive?”
“I told Corporal Afu—”
“You were tackled in a basement and passed out. Is that all you have?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Look out here,” he said, opening the office door. “That line outside has only grown since this morning. The morning after we relieve BCPD from their duties, all of a sudden we’re flooded with complaints. Your story is the only one involving a first hand experience. Either you’re the luckiest man alive, or you’re hiding something.”
“Luck. Totally luck,” Jake said, pleading. “If she’s told you the details, then she knows that’s been my attitude. One of the attackers blew through John’s basement door and tackled me to the ground. I got tackled through two windows and a door, and the only reason I’m alive is because something scared the attackers away. I hoped it was Karl and John, but it doesn’t look like they’re here… wait, did you say I’m the only one with a story like this? All those people are just reporting missing persons?”
He nodded. Jake tried to see his name, but couldn’t make it out with the Commander moving so much. “I need John’s address. We have a lot of ground to cover. You’re going to stick around while we investigate.”
“Stay here? Sir, I’ve been here for—“
“Yes, stay here. We will investigate the crime scene and I’ll have more questions.”
“Right now?”
“No. We need to service these people first. Which means I’ll need you to stay in one of the holding cells while we continue. Unfortunately, I don’t have the office space to keep you in here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nothing about this is a laughing matter, young man.”
“Young man? I’m your age! Where do you get off? Now you’re going to make me stay in a jail cell while there are murderers out in the streets? A gang of psychotic killers attacked John’s house and you’re making me stay in jail? Where are the real police? You have no idea what you’re doing, huh?”
“Would you like cuffs while you’re in the holding cell?”
“No. I don’t want to go in there at all. I want to go home. Or at least the Blue Tree.”
“With luck, you’ll be home in no time. I need you to be patient. There’s nothing more I can offer.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Corporal Afu will take you to the holding cell. I suggest trying to get some rest.”
*******
Tink
Dark
East of Utah
Tink stumbled as someone yanked him out of the van and pushed him forward. Every step hurt. His jaw ached with stiff bruising. Nausea came with the smell of cow crap and hay.
Someone ripped off Tink’s bag. The first thing he saw was the van’s headlights glaring on Asher, Jenna, and Shelly on their knees in an empty field. Harry was sitting to Tink’s right. Mona and Mickey stood to Tink’s lef
t. Mona’s left eye was swollen shut. They had hit her again.
Marshall stood over Asher and asked, “Okay, so as you were saying—”
“What do you want from me, man?” Asher replied.
Nino handed Marshall a pistol. It sparkled against the headlights. Marshall examined it and smiled. “I want you to finish what you were saying.”
“Don’t,” Mona pleaded. Hearing the fear in her voice made Tink strain against the ties on his hands. He wanted to rip them off and rip a soldier’s head off. He could do it. He could kill Marshall in front of his little sister, just like she killed a Shadow when they first arrived in the city. Marshall needed to die.
“Again? Her? Help me understand here, sunshine, is she your general? Or what?” Marshall asked, taunting Asher. “Jordan, if she talks again, cut her tongue out. Understood?”
Jordan walked to Mona, holding out his knife. “Yes, sir.”
Tink pulled against his ties, hard enough to hurt his arm.
“Anyway, it appears we are off to a rocky start. Your people have no respect for my men. We’re here to protect you, yet you continue to push the boundaries. What will it take to come to an understanding?”
“Let us go.”
“Or what? Are you going to kill us?”
Tink wished he would do it already. Asher needed to break free and end these dudes.
“I might.”
Asher looked to Mona. She shook her head and told him no. Why not? They were threatening to cut out her tongue and shoot people. Mona needed to look no further than Tink’s jacked up face to see how crazy these soldiers were. Tink knew what happened when bad men held weapons, and it never ended without someone dead.
Marshall rubbed the pistol against Asher’s cheek. “I don’t take threats, boy. And I don’t fight fair.”
“How are the rest of your men doing?” Asher smiled.
This confused Marshall. “What are you talking about?”
“What did you have, fifteen thousand men cross into Salt Lake? And somehow, only three of you survived. Those aren’t good odds. Hey Jordy and Ninny, apparently Major isn’t so great, after all. If he stays this close, I’m going to kill you guys too.”
Marshall looked back to Nino and gave him a smug smile. He wasn’t intimated, or concerned, when Asher rubbed this information in his face. Instead, he was impressed. “How do you know about the others?”
“I’m a good guesser.” Asher was toying with him. It was about time for him to start showing himself as someone dominant.
The soldiers laughed. It wasn’t funny. “Mmm. How about cut off your tongue?”
“Why did you lie?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“When you were on the phone, you said there were only four survivors. Why?”
“Because I’m leaving three of you here.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
“Cut the act, okay? We knew you were coming.” Asher’s eyes looked to Mona. The others wouldn’t have noticed this, but Tink caught the exchanging glares. Did this mean she knew they were coming? Why didn’t she tell everyone? Why didn’t she tell Tink? It must have been a situation similar to the one that ended up getting Edie and Lynn killed. She didn’t tell, because she couldn’t. Otherwise, it might have made things worse. “We know what you’re fighting against. Just let us go and it’ll be fine.”
“And if not… you’re going to kill me?”
“Exactly.”
“Right. Well, how about we fight for it?” Marshall asked. “You’re barking up my tree. Why not put your money where your mouth is?”
“You don’t want that.”
“Ohhhh, but I do. Do we have a deal?”
Asher looked back to Mona. This time, she was avoiding eye contact by looking at the ground. This was the moment Tink was waiting for. Asher was doing the right thing by not putting Mona and the others in danger. If she wasn’t confident, that’s fine, but Asher could kill all three of these dudes without breaking a sweat. It was good to see him stepping up to the plate.
Marshall helped him stand. “How about hand to hand? I haven’t fought hand to hand since Sudan.” He turned back to Nino and handed his gun over. “Well, that rhymed. Hand to hand. In Sudan. Maybe I should be a country music singer. What do you think, Nino?”
“Country sucks, sir.”
*******
Asher Blake
Mid-Evening
A farm east of Utah
Marshall took the bait. His pride was tested too many times and now he was about to cut Asher’s ties free. The old soldier had every reason to believe he could destroy Asher. Asher was half his weight, didn’t carry himself like a trained killer, and was too good looking to be a savage.
They had no idea.
Except, that’s not what happened.
He walked behind Asher and continued, “I’ve been in fights against Israeli special forces, Saudi secret service, the GIG, the BV, and even shut up a couple loud mouths with the British SAS. Before every battle, they ran their mouth, just like you. But do you know what the difference is between you and them?”
Asher knew the difference; training. He didn’t even like lifting weights before the Pulse came, but those men were all trained as professional killers. They were built to protect others. Long hours formed them into great warriors. Asher got his overnight.
He answered, “They didn’t have my charming personality?”
“I have you tied up.”
It wasn’t the answer Asher expected. “What does—”
A thin pain jabbed into his back. The wound started bleeding immediately, the warm sensation of blood ran down to his left leg.
Marshall stabbed him.
A sensation began rushing up his body as well. It was different than the blood, it felt like icy cold needles poking up to his neck. The needles rushed downwards.
Pain.
Asher could feel his intestines bubble. His legs gave out.
And then, he was gone.
*******
Tink
Dark
East of Utah
“Wait!” Shelly screamed. “What did you do to him?”
Marshall waved his knife to the group as Asher laid on the ground vomiting. Thick, green chunks burst out of his mouth. Tink could see liquid leaking out of his ears. Was it blood?
Marshall fixed his eyes on Shelly and smiled. “Nino, it looks like she is our second volunteer. Bring her here.”
“Keep your hands off her!” Harry yelled.
Jordan punched him in the eye.
Shelly walked forward. “No, no, wait. Don’t do this. We’re not a threat to you. There are evil men running through Utah, the ones who killed your men. We can fight them. Asher can, please, help him. He doesn’t deserve this. He can kill the monsters.” Nino got ready to pistol whip her.
Marshall motioned for Nino to wait. Tink pulled against his ties. Jordan stood near, but didn’t do anything. He was too busy enjoying Asher convulse on the ground.
“Oh, the monsters? Really? He can help?”
“Yes. I’ve seen him fight, he is amazing—”
“Oh, honey, he’s not helping anyone. He’s dying.”
“But—”
“Hold on, before you go further… I think we’ve found an issue,” Marshall said, as he walked closer to Shelly.
Before Tink could prepare, Jordan smashed the butt of his rifle into Tink’s forehead.
Marshall continued, “You misunderstood why we’ve taken you captive.”
Tink’s vision became blurred as Marshall caressed her cheeks.
“You’re not hostages, and you’re not threats. I’m not a hero… not your hero, anyway. I have you because those are my orders. I follow orders. Find four survivors in order to learn about the monsters.”
“We’ll tell you everything. Just, help him.”
“It’s too late for that. I can’t take it back and my orders are to interrogate for informati
on. You have valuable experience. I need it.”
Asher tried to push himself off the ground, he looked at Marshall with thick liquid leaking out of his eyes.
Jordan spoke up, “Never seen one do that before.”
Nino snickered. “He’s special, remember?”
Marshall walked over to Shelly holding onto his knife. “Did you notice my men and I all carry the same knife?”
“No.”
“Of course not, why would you notice such a trivial thing? But we do. My men always carry my knife. I have a little friend in Sudan who makes each knife to my liking. They’re all supposed to match, and they’re all laced with enough poison to kill a man with one, small…” He put the knife against her cheek. “Cut.” Shelly yelped, but there was no blood. Marshall moved the knife down to her neck. “I could have done something similar with a gun, or a band to wear. But do you know why I chose a knife?”
She didn’t answer.
“Because people are afraid of knives. They’re more… intimate. As a leader of men, my job is to motivate and inspire. What better way than with fear? Not that Nino or Jordan are afraid of me. But they know, people are afraid of them because they carry my knife.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Good. But I’m not going to use this thing on you. You’ve been kind to me, Shelly. I don’t want you to look like Asher.”
Asher’s face was white, his cheeks sunk; he was breathing, but he was dying. Tink never saw someone look like this. It was like a skeleton was sweating.
“And so, Shelly, do you understand that I am neither friend nor ally?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And so, Shelly, do you see I’m not so bad of a guy, I’m just a good soldier following orders?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And so, Shelly… do you understand that none of this is personal?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re doing great. Last question; do you understand that this is where we part ways?”
Dark Divide (Shadow and Shine Book 2) Page 19