I signaled for Blake and pulled into the overgrown shoreline, he followed behind me. The water was only a few inches deep and the grass was high enough to provide significant cover, so we crouched low and pushed closer to the house.
There were signs of life, the windows were open and a few pairs of clothing were strewn over the porch railing. I didn’t spot any movement though.
“I’m going to move to the south, get a bead on the address, call in reinforcements. Stay here and keep an eye out,” I whispered to Blake who nodded in acknowledgment.
It was obvious the owners of this camp had taken meticulous care of the area Pre-Z, and it was a beautiful camp, two stories, three if you counted the entertaining area underneath the camp. Now, though, the marsh was pushing back in, the grass was almost up to my shoulders, except for the area that was used for a driveway and the path to the boat launch, it was a mess.
I stayed low, at a disadvantage since the house was raised almost twenty feet off the ground and anyone looking out the window could see into the grass. My all black attire was great for night, but in the daylight I would be in contrast to the brown winter landscape.
I made it to the front of the camp without incident, but I did register sounds coming from the camp, there were people inside. No visual confirmation though, only the sounds of footfalls and the muffled sound of voices. From my vantage point I could see there was another camp about a quarter mile to the east. It was close enough that we could keep watch and hide our movements. Time to call in the troops.
I sent the three signal burst on my com, signaling to the compound that I was radioing in.
“Island, this is Boss One.”
“Roger, Boss One, this is Island. Do you have something for us?” Martinez’s voice came over my earpiece. They were ready. They had probably been waiting at the communication station.
“We’ve located possible suspects, in need of back-up.”
“Hallelujah, what’s the coordinates?”
“Three clicks west, still on Chef, physical address is 20813. I need two units, one come in from the water, Pontchartrain side,” I glanced at my watch, “at fifteen-hundred, secondary unit come in by land after dusk. I want quiet and dark movement from the vehicle. Marine unit rendezvous underneath main structure.”
“Copy that, Boss One.”
“Boss Two,” I radioed to Blake.
“Boss Two here,” he whispered back.
“Fall back to the camp to the east. As much as I want to kick the door in and break some skulls, let’s figure out if this is the right group.”
“Fuck, there went that idea,” he replied and I felt my lips turn up in a grin. The smile wasn’t about any kind of happiness, it was about action and an almost gleeful anticipation of what was about to go down.
Sixteen | Just Torture
BLAKE
I stowed the two jet skis, pushing them into the marsh and covering them as best as I could with brush. I didn’t think anyone would come this way, but I didn’t want to assume, and we wanted to keep our presence a surprise. When I was done, I slowly made my way through the grass.
It was a tedious process, the camp we were going to occupy was set closer to the road and the marsh was overgrown with weeds and high grass. The neighboring camp was set high above me, so I couldn’t go quickly and cause the grass to move and give away my position.
When I finally pushed my way out of the grass to the paved area underneath the fishing camp, Zach revealed himself; he had taken cover near the stairs. There were three flights that soared up to the raised structure above us.
“I’m going to clear the structure, stay down and keep an eye out,” he said.
“There’s nothing going on down here, if there are dead up there, you’ll need my help,” I argued.
“Negative. I need you to keep watch out here. If we’re both upstairs, they could leave, or surprise us, and we wouldn’t have a clue.”
“Aye aye.” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see it with my dark glasses covering half my face.
“Just do it, Blake.” He obviously sensed the eye roll.
“I’ll always outrank you, Sarge,” I drawled. For some reason I just had to fuck with Zach. He had transitioned out with the rank of Sergeant First Class, his enlisted status to my officer status always rankled him and the fact that I always reminded him.
“Shit like that don’t count anymore, just keep an eye out, Blake,” he said stoically. He didn’t let me get a word out in response, he just turned and took the stairs two at a time without making a sound. Zach had always been a born leader and top of his game in whatever he did. When I had met him, he had been a member of the newly commissioned Marine Raiders Regiment, pulled kicking and screaming out of Recon. He was an egotistical bastard and didn’t want some First Lieutenant telling him what to do. It had pissed me off. He knew what he was doing, though, that was evident in everything he did. He saved my life that first week, then I saved his a few weeks later. We had been brothers ever since. The good old days.
I just had to remind myself that he knew what he was doing and not let my ego get in the way. He was right. I had to keep watch on our neighbors, even though I wanted to do more than surveillance.
I hunkered down, taking cover behind a barbecue pit. There was no movement from the “enemy camp.” From what I could tell, there weren’t that many inside of the structure, maybe two or three at the most. Every now and again a shadow would pass in front of a window.
Something caught my eye from the north. There was movement from the lake, barely noticeable, but it was enough to alert me to the team’s arrival. Two minutes later, Baby and Martinez emerged from the weeds without a sound. They were dressed similar to Zach and myself and Martinez was humping a duffle that was probably stuffed full of weapons.
A tapping from above had me looking up and Zach signaled an all clear and to come on up. You didn’t have to tell me twice.
The upstairs area was Fancy, with a capital F. Granite and glass was everywhere and a huge ass fireplace took center stage in the front room. The fishing camp we used to go to as kids barely had a functioning toilet, much fewer granite countertops. But, then again, we always came back sunburned and covered in weird bug bites, these people had the right idea.
“There’s a crow’s nest with some kind of day room up there that has three hundred and sixty degrees of unobstructed views. I need someone up there, now,” Zach said the moment we crossed the threshold.
Baby pursed her lips and mock saluted Zach, heading for the stairs. He didn’t even register her sarcastic response he was so focused on his task. The man was at the breaking point, Baby was only trying to lighten the mood, but it wouldn’t work on Zach. I wanted Alexis back, for me, for what she meant to me, but seeing Zach so frazzled I also wanted her back for him. I hadn’t ever seen him this zoned in.
“What’s the story, boss?” Martinez dropped the duffle on the floor and I winced at the loud sound. He grinned, chagrined over his mistake and I could have fucking punched him. Zach couldn’t get out of the zone and Martinez couldn’t fucking be serious to save his life. We would be lucky if we made it out of this alive.
“The family in Venetian Isles pointed us in this direction, said people matching the rednecks description had just moved in. We haven’t had confirmation that it’s the men we’re looking for, though,” Zach said stiffly.
“We gonna bust in there? Kick ass and take no prisoners?”
“We’re gonna confirm it’s the men from the bridge that were chasing Ito and then we’ll go in and see what’s up. Capture and interrogate.”
“Capture, torture, kill?” Martinez smiled, but it was strained.
“Something like that,” Zach said quietly.
“What if it ain’t them that took Lex?” Martinez asked.
“Then just torture.”
Seventeen | The New Normal
ZACH
The sun was setting and I hadn’t seen shit from the other house. What
were those people doing in there? Sleeping? They weren’t doing shit. It’s not like they could do much, though. It was cold as shit and they didn’t have a fire going, or any kind of heat, they were most likely huddled up in some room smelling each other’s asses. But it was obvious they wanted to hide their presence. No fire, no movement outside, it had to be the people we were looking for.
It wasn’t until the sun had slipped into the water and the whole place was painted with an orange hue that I saw real movement, real quantitative proof that it was the fucking douchebags we had been in pursuit of for the last day and a half.
“Incoming,” Baby’s voice came over our coms. “Cadillac, coming in from the west. Looks like two men.”
The roar of the engine had all of us coming to attention and moving to the windows. From my vantage point I could see the Cadillac coming down the highway and then turning into the camp next door. It pulled underneath the structure and the doors swung open.
I brought binos to my eyes and focused in on the vehicle. One of the men I recognized from earlier. It was who we were looking for.
“Confirmed. Rednecks confirmed,” Baby’s voice backed up my thoughts.
My palms itched. I wanted a weapon in my hand. I wanted to move. I wanted to do something. I was tired of chasing and sitting and watching. But we still had to wait for the second team that would be here in just under an hour. Just one more hour. I had been standing at this window for what felt like an eternity. It probably was hours. My back ached from standing at attention, I was unable to relax my stance. Old habits die hard.
I heard the door creak behind me and from the tread I knew it was Martinez.
“Hey, boss. Ito just radioed, they’re ready to head out. They’re gonna drop the vehicles a click up the road and come on foot at full dark.”
“Good. We’ll break it down when they get here and then go in.”
“You alright, man?” He stepped closer and I turned to face him.
“Focused on the mission, Martinez. You got something to say?”
“Just worried about you, Zach,” he gestured to the wall near me. There was a large hole near the window. It looked like someone had punched it.
I hadn’t done that. I couldn’t have done that.
“Nothing to worry about, we’ll get Lex back and we’ll get back to normal.”
“The new normal,” Martinez added.
“Yeah, the new normal.”
Eighteen | House Bitch
ALEXIS
Senior looked at me, expecting a response and all I could do was nod. Jesus, did he mean a gang bang? Okay, maybe I couldn’t do this. My hands started to shake. I clasped them together and took a deep breath. My palms were sweating and I could feel my legs quivering. I looked over at the bitch that had gotten me into this mess and I could have killed her.
Clara looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack. Her whole body was shaking and she was jerking her head back and forth looking from one man to the other. It was almost comical, if this scene wasn’t so intimidating. The bikers just stood there, staring at us. Most of them were older, in their forties and fifties and on the heavy side, but not obese. They were all eyeing us like we were the main course.
My eyes fell on one that was much younger than the rest of the group and was the spitting image of Senior. They were both about six feet tall and had strong features. Senior’s face was covered in a beard, but the younger man was clean-shaven and his hair was dark black, to Senior’s salt and pepper. He wore the Vice-President patch and I could only assume this was the leader’s son and the next in line for the dictatorship. He was eyeing me like I was a new toy he wanted to play with.
“Hey, house bitch,” Senior yelled to the girl that had been milling about the men, “Take the scared blonde to the women’s quarters and give her a bunk. Let her know the rules. I’m taking this one for a test drive.” He strode forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me forward.
I had thought I might get a little more time. Maybe they would inspect my teeth or something, not jump right into it.
Ok. Shit. I couldn’t do this. My legs buckled and he dragged me forward, not caring as I almost fell.
The men around the table laughed and jeered as their president stepped to the counter with me in tow. He bent down and snorted what I assumed was coke or meth. I had never been into experimentation, so I had little experience with drugs or even drug users. Both my parents were chronic pot smokers, but pot was a far cry from any sort of synthesized narcotic. This was insane.
He threw his head back and sucked air hard through his nose, rubbing at his face with the hand that wasn’t gripping my arm. Maybe he would drop dead right here? The other men around the counter did the same, leaning over, snorting the drug–as if the leader had to go first and then everyone else could go. They all looked up, eyes now glazed over and high, all but the VP, who stood there smirking at his father. His were the only eyes that weren’t glassy from drug use. His were the only eyes that were watchful and aware.
“Get in the room, bitch, I’ll be there shortly.” He pushed me forward, up a few steps and into the office. I did as I was told and went into the little room. It was a mess. There was a double bed pushed in the corner and clothes were strewn all over the place. There were half-empty bottles of bourbon on every available counter space and ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts. There was nowhere to sit but the bed and I didn’t want to touch the sheets. I did notice that there was a door against the back wall and wondered what lay behind that.
I didn’t have time to contemplate the door, or work up the nerve to explore. Too soon he was pushing through the door of the office and yanking at the make-shift curtains, plunging the room into darkness. He cursed under his breath and I heard the clattering of something and then a lantern flicked on.
“Get undressed. I want to see what I paid five cases of MREs for.” I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to make a break for it, but I knew the other men would be on me before I could make it down the stairs. I also knew I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t submit to this man.
“Take your fucking dress off, bitch,” he hollered and moved toward me, his hand raised. He went for the hair, these douchebags loved to yank me around by my hair, the only vanity I had left in this fucked up world. I had let it grow, my long dark locks something I had always been proud of. I was shaving it if I ever got out of this shit.
He didn’t let me undress on my own. I heard the flick of a switchblade, that unmistakable clicking pop that announced the releasing of the blade. Then he was slicing through the too tight dress. The dress that I had thought covered so little, I now realized covered so much.
I was butt-ass naked beneath the dress. The old skank hadn’t even given me a bra. He yanked harder on my hair and I whimpered. His rough hands pawed at me and I made the mistake of looking at him, meeting his dilated eyes, unfocused from the drugs. He looked insane, he looked hungry. This was really going to happen. He was going to rape me.
He pushed me hard and I fell down on the bed, sprawling across it. I pulled myself up, trying to cover my body with my legs and arms, anything to retain some amount of dignity.
I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t watch what he was doing, but I heard the distinct sound of leather on leather and the sound of a belt being yanked from pants and then the sound of a zipper.
“I’m gonna fuck you, bitch, and you’re gonna like it,” he spat and I mustered the courage to look up at him. He was now completely undressed, but I couldn’t make out details since he was in the shadow from the dim lantern. I could tell he was disgusting and wrinkled. He was old enough to be my father; gray hair peppered his chest, his man boobs protruded like deflated balloons. His dick was still flaccid against his thigh and he gripped it in his hand, yanking on it in a way that didn’t look very appetizing or stimulating.
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