The Devil's Vial

by Brumbaugh,Byron

  The Devil’s Vial

  Byron Brumbaugh

  Copyright Byron Brumbaugh 2015

  Published by Black Rose Writing, Publishing at Smashwords

  www.blackrosewriting.com

  © 2015 by Byron Brumbaugh

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.

  First digital version

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61296-575-8

  PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING

  www.blackrosewriting.com

  Print edition produced in the United States of America

  This book is dedicated to my family – my two beautiful daughters, their husbands, my wonderful grandchildren, their progeny and so on. I wanted to pass something on, when I leave this existence, that my descendants could read, at their leisure, to give them some insight into what I thought about, ideas I had, issues important to me and who I was. It is my most fervent desire that this book, beyond all else, serve this purpose. However, I also wrote it to appeal to a wider audience – I am sure that, like myself, there are many in the world who enjoy a good thriller.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I am eternally grateful to Kathie Giorgio of AllWriters’ Workplace and Workshop. Without her guidance, encouragement and gentle prodding, this piece would never have been finished. Thanks, too, goes to the community of writers at AllWriters’ who helped my writing mature by offering valuable critiques and camaraderie. My friends and coworkers at the Merrimack Valley Hospital, in Haverhill, MA, also sustained me by making my efforts feel valuable when they read and commented on the early manuscripts.

  I can never forget, nor adequately express, my profound appreciation and reverence for Tulku Thondup, my Tibetan Buddhist teacher and spiritual advisor, who continues to help me learn and follow the Dharma. I can only hope that my poor efforts, here, to explain my understanding of Buddhism are not too terribly confused, misleading or embarrassing. My conversations and practice with him not only inspired this work, but also guide my stumbling way along the Buddhist path.

  Above all – to everyone who reads this novel – enjoy!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Richard glanced down at the hastily scrawled note in his hand, then up at the front of the house. The numbers matched. Had he misunderstood?

  The building squatted on an isolated lot whose lawn, long gone to seed, had been invaded, and then conquered by the local species of weeds. Its windows were boarded over, some planks hanging loose from one end. The mildewed clapboard siding peeled off-white paint onto a cracked-cement foundation. Once supporting a firm sheltering roof, the house’s beams now drooped like sagging flesh. The lot was surrounded by old timber whose roots were strangled in thick underbrush. Standing at the end of a long, once gravel, curving driveway, Richard could not see the traffic on the road behind. He could barely hear it.

  What the hell am I doing? he thought. I’m not trained for this. He looked about him, but could see no evidence of anyone else being around. It seemed no one had been there for a very long time. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  The phone call he received an hour ago was clear and concise. “If you want to see your girlfriend again, alive, do exactly as I say. Do not phone anyone. Take note of my number and answer only my calls. Do not answer any other calls. Do not, otherwise, even pick up your phone. Talk to no one. Go only where I tell you to go and do exactly what I tell you to do. I’m watching your every move and I will know if you deviate from my instructions.” Over the following hour, and further calls, it was clear he was being watched closely. What else could he have done?

  The calls were many and terse. “Take exit 48 to route 110, then right to Ward Hill Road.” That kind of thing. Another call followed when he was close to the intermediate destination and he was redirected from there. The route took him in convoluted circles and he had no idea where he was going until he pulled into the driveway.

  Once, he was struggling with his phone and momentarily let go of the steering wheel. “Jesus Christ!” said the caller. “Watch what the hell you’re doing! We don’t want to attract any attention, do we?” The guy had to be close; had to be in a nearby car. Richard looked around, but he couldn’t see anything suspicious. The streets were full of traffic and the caller could be any one of a number of people. He couldn’t tell if a car was following him or not.

  “Why me?” he asked during one of the calls. “What do you want from me?”

  “You will know in due time. For now, just do as you’re told.” The phone went dead.

  Julie was someone very special to him. She was still playing it a little uncertain; a wait-and-see posture. But Richard, in his mind, was projecting himself into the future with her by his side. Thoughts of a home, pregnancies and kids, a family, lay just below the conscious surface. And now, her life was threatened. What the hell was going on? His heart started pounding, his mouth was dry and his palms were tacky with sweat. No, he thought. I can’t think about her now. I have to keep my mind clear, ready to recognize and seize any opportunity that presents itself.

  Richard moved through the mid-calf-high grass and weeds to the back of the house. “Go to the back door. It’ll be left open for you,” he was told. The July sun had just passed its zenith; but even so, Richard’s skin prickled with goosebumps. He had a very bad feeling about this. Where the hell is this guy? he thought as he stared at the undergrowth amongst the trees. The guy must have been close to him on the road. Where was he now? Should he wait for the guy to drive up? No, he was told to go in the back door. The caller must have been close, at least sometimes. Maybe he took a shortcut while directing Richard around in circles.

  Richard walked up to the door and peered between the planks nailed across its window. It was covered with newsprint. Somehow, he had to get an edge. But how? He looked left and right along the wall. Maybe he could enter some other way and surprise whoever it was that was waiting for him.

  There was no other way in that wouldn’t make a lot of noise and alert anyone inside. Setting his
jaw, he reached out and grabbed the doorknob. He paused, then with a conscious act of will, turned it and pushed the door slowly open. He was met with a fetid cool breath that rose from the bowels of the interior. Jesus! he thought. What the hell am I doing? The inside of the house was dark except for the slab of light that came in through the open door and spears of light from between the poorly joined boards on the windows.

  “There are stairs just inside the door to the right that go down into the basement. Take them. Your girlfriend and I will be waiting for you.”

  From the threshold, he could just make out the black rectangle of an open door and the first two steps sliding down into blackness. Maybe, if I’m really quiet, I can sneak up on whoever’s down there and have an edge, he thought. He let loose a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stepped softly into the house. The floor complained noticeably of his weight. Damn.

  Alright, fine, he thought. The cards are dealt, I just have to call the bet. He put his weight on the first step and then the second. They screamed his approach. Slowly, he made his way down with his right hand held against the cold cement subterranean wall. He could see next to nothing in the murk, blinded after being out in the summer sunlight. At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped, trying to regain some meager ability to see.

  “Ah, Dr Gregg,” said a voice that came from somewhere in the dark basement behind Richard and to his left. “Welcome. Please do come in.” There was an unhealthy lilt to the voice. A confident smirk. Again, the goosebumps. And what was that smell? It smelled like something died in there…

  Oh shit. “Julie? Julie, are you there? Are you alright?” Please god. Let her be alright. I’ll do anything not to lose her.

  “We’re both here. Your girlfriend is fine. She’s just asleep. I medicated her a little to keep her calm. Just follow my voice and come a little closer.”

  “I can’t see…” Richard turned toward the voice and moved away from the wall. He stepped carefully forward, hands slowly waving out in front, held head high and a little to the side.

  “That’s it. Just a little farther…”

  Suddenly, Richard was engulfed in a blinding white light. He raised his right hand to shade his eyes and tried to make out what was in front of him. There was a man standing there, one hand holding a large black revolver, the other touching a light switch. To the man’s right, Julie sat on an old wooden chair, her hands bound behind her, her ankles tied to the legs. She wore a gag and her head hung limply on her chest.

  “Julie!” said Richard, and he moved toward her.

  “Ah, ah, ah!” said the man as he lifted the pistol and thrust it in Richard’s direction. “Just stay where you are.”

  Richard stopped and clenched his fists by his sides. “If you’ve hurt her in the slightest way, I’ll -- “

  “You’ll what? You seem to be at a little disadvantage here.”

  “Who the hell are you and what do you want with me and Julie?”

  “Want?” he asked. “With her?” He waved the gun in Julie’s direction. “Nothing. No, no. It’s you I have business with.”

  “Then let her go.”

  “Oh no. She’ll be useful just the same.” He pointed the gun at Richard again. Julie moaned and started to stir, but remained unconscious. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Richard strained to see past the cannon pointing at him. The man appeared to be in his mid to late thirties, average build, dressed in a work shirt and blue jeans. His light brown hair hung just over his ears and he had a mustache. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t. What did I ever do to you?” As he talked, he looked around, seeking something, anything, he could use to get control over what was happening. The room was bare, except for the chair Julie sat in and some empty shelves behind the man with the gun. The concrete floor was filthy with dirt and detritus. The single blinding light hung by a wire from an unfinished ceiling. He clenched his fists again. Oh God! How can I get us out of this?

  “We met about a year ago, in your ER,” said the man. “I came in for help. But you didn’t help me at all, did you?” His voice was getting louder.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you. I see so many people…”

  “Let me help you. My name is Gary. I was desperate. So desperate, I tried to kill myself. I tried to stab myself in the chest, but the handle to the knife broke -- ah, I see you do remember.”

  Richard did. The story, as told by Gary, was a tragicomedy of an ambivalent suicide attempt. First, Gary tried to stab himself. The handle broke. Barely broke the skin. Then he thought about sticking his head in the oven, but it was electric. So he hit himself in the head with a heavy frying pan. All that did was give him a headache. Next, he tried to jump out of his third story window. He landed on the fire escape three feet below. Finally, he went to the police station with his hand in his pocket, announced he had a gun and was going to start shooting. The police called an ambulance that brought him to the ER. He was nothing if not tenacious.

  “I needed your help and you failed me. You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to help people. All you did was ship me off to a place where the idea of help was nothing but talk and pills.”

  “I’m sorry. I was trying to help you. It seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Yeah, sure. You doctors all think you’re so damn smart.” Gary waved the gun back and forth.

  If he would just move it a little more, maybe I can lunge for it, Richard thought. Buy some time. “Look, maybe I didn’t do the best thing before, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help now. Let me try. Tell me what you need.”

  “Help? How’re you gonna help me? You’re really so damn clueless. I studied you over the last six months. I found out where your weaknesses are; your pressure points. I knew just how to get you here. And now, you’re mine.” Gary glanced toward Julie who was now intermittently struggling at her restraints, not quite awake. “I think you need a little education.”

  Gary kept the gun pointed at Richard and moved over in front of Julie. Keeping a close eye on Richard, he intermittently jerked his head to look at Julie. “That’s it. It’s time to wake up.”

  Julie’s head rolled on her chest.

  “Wake up, you damned bitch!” shouted Gary.

  Julie’s head came up uncertainly. Her eyes, red and drug-glazed, slowly opened. She looked at Gary and her eyes flew wide. She saw Richard and she tried to yell something through the gag.

  “Julie…” said Richard.

  “I watched you and found something that was very dear to you,” said Gary. “This young lady here. I found a way I could hurt you so you could feel the kind of pain I’ve been feeling. Maybe then you’ll understand.”

  “Let her go!”

  “I don’t think so…”

  “You so much as touch her and I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?” Gary tilted his head a bit to the side in a mockery of curiosity. He wore a malevolent grin. “I’ll tell you what you’ll do. You’ll watch.” He turned back toward Julie and raised his gun hand as if to strike her.

  Julie let out a scream that couldn’t be blocked by the gag and scooted the chair a few inches backward.

  Gary raised the gun a little higher in preparation for a devastating blow.

  Seeing his opportunity, Richard charged toward Gary, hands in front, desperately seeking the gun. In a frantic leap, his hands closed around Gary’s wrist. The two of them fell to the floor and wrestled in the grime. Julie screamed again.

  Richard marshaled all his strength and wrenched the gun from Gary’s grasp. He quickly rolled away, rose to his feet and stepped back as Gary struggled to get up. Richard brought the gun around, aiming squarely at Gary’s chest. Damned thing was heavy. “Get back!” he ordered.

  Gary regained his feet slowly, apparently unconcerned. “Or you’ll what? Shoot me? I doubt it. You’re impotent. You haven’t got the balls.” He stepped back toward the shelves. With a sudden twist, he reached around and grabbed something from one of them. Before Richard coul
d react, he was behind Julie with one hand full of her hair, pulling her head to the side. The other hand held the object at her exposed throat. Richard now recognized it as a knife. “What’re you going to do now, tough guy?” said Gary. He smiled.

  Julie alternately sucked air in hard through her nose, then yelled unintelligibly through her gag. Her eyes bulged with rage. The veins in her neck and temples protruded and her face became a reddish shade of purple. She fought with all her strength against the restraints and Gary’s hold. She twisted a little more to the side, exposing Gary’s chest.

  Richard raised the gun with a two-handed grip, sighted carefully along the barrel and swallowed. He had no intention of pulling the trigger; he just wanted the threat to disarm the situation. Knowing he was in over his head, he hesitated, crippled by the feeling there was no acceptable course of action. He stared into Gary’s eyes for a few seconds, searching desperately for a solution. Gary’s eyes widened, his pupils dilated and an expression flashed across his face that said “now!” Simultaneously, his arm flinched as if in preparation to cut.

  Without thought, Richard pulled the trigger; there was a flash, bright even in the glaring light. The gun barked loud and flexed his hand powerfully upward. Gary’s back exploded with a wash of blood and bone painting the floor and wall behind him. His head snapped down to his chest as his body was thrown violently backwards into the wall. His arms flew wide, swinging the knife away from Julie’s throat, throwing it somewhere into the shadows. He slumped to the floor

  For a moment, Richard stood there, deaf and paralyzed. Reality took a vacation.

  His ears rang as hearing returned. The mixed odor of blood and spent gun powder assaulted his sense of smell, overpowering the stench of the place. Julie screamed as she pushed the chair as far as she could from the body on the floor.