Precipice

by J. Robert Kinney

The torque was too much, however, and she whirled off-balance to the ground, landing face-first on the damp turf. Her fall knocked Will off kilter and he stumbled before catching a tree with his hand and righting himself. He turned to help, but before he took a step, the tree trunk to the left of his head exploded.

  A shower of wood chips and shards rained down around him. He recoiled at the blast, tripping over his own feet from his sudden change in momentum. There was another detonation. A giant, gaping hole ripped into the tree on his right. As the vehicle skidded sideways to a stop, he caught a brief glimpse of a man leaning out of the passenger window, drawing a bead on him with a large rifle. Will didn’t wait to see if the third shot would be the charm.

  His flight instinct took over and he spun on his heels to flee. Another blast of wood chips exploded behind him. The woods thickened quickly as he darted between trunks and the echoed blasts from the rifle fell silent. They wouldn’t waste more ammo firing at random into the dense woods. A rush of adrenaline pumped through his body at the sound of the rumbling engine and allowed him to cover ground quickly, but he didn’t get far before realizing his mistake.

  The girl wasn’t with him.

  Panicking, he doubled back toward the house. He inched closer, trying to catch a glimpse of either his pursuers or the girl. They must be studying the woods in the vicinity of where he disappeared, so he circled around. If the men spotted him, they’d need time to readjust their aim and he’d disappear before they fired off any shots. Trying to follow him would be useless. The woods were thick enough and he held enough of a head start that any pursuit would be futile.

  Before he could spot his target, however, one of the men broke the silence.

  “Will!” The hunter’s voice was deep and raspy, like a lifelong smoker’s. “I think you left something behind.” He chuckled, starting with a snort of strangled laughter, before shifting into a deep, throaty guffaw. The laugh had a sinister, grating quality to it, sending shivers down Will’s spine.

  “I know you’re still there!” Another chuckle. “You wouldn’t abandon something this valuable.” This time, his friend joined in the laughter.

  Will crept a few feet closer, at last catching sight of Booth’s daughter. He’d succeeded in circling around enough so that the men faced a spot thirty feet to his left. The first person Will spied was the girl, on her back, eyes wide and mouth agape, staring skyward in terror. She appeared to be mouthing a prayer and trying hard not to scream. Will followed her horrified gaze to the business end of a handgun, a few feet from her head. As he continued to follow her gaze up the silenced barrel of the pistol, he took in the rest of the scene. And cringed.

  Two daunting men held their hostage captive. He didn’t recognize the behemoth standing to one side. Well over six feet, he must have weighed 300 pounds. He reminded Will of a professional wrestler, even down to the dirty-blond handlebar moustache on a face that looked like it had taken a nap on a bed of rocks. Long blond hair stuck out at awkward intervals from a beat-up baseball cap and huge, beefy arms strained to escape a dirty white t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. So large, he was almost cartoonish in his villainous form. Scars covered his bare arms. This was a man who had experienced violence in his life. The fierce, deadly stare suggested he was rarely the one on the receiving end of that brutality.

  The other man, the one holding the silenced pistol in a gloved hand, was a different story. Will recognized him as the “agent” who visited his house. If he remembered correctly, this particular man called himself Sean Lynch. Not dressed as impeccably as during their last meeting, he still stood out next to his partner as refined and clean-cut. The large man was rough around the edges—and the edges weren’t the only rough parts—but Lynch was a smoother character.

  Lynch called out this time. “What a fortunate coincidence to run into you here, William. We assumed you were long gone.” A menacing snicker. “You wouldn’t dare leave such a pretty jewel behind with my friend here. You remember what happened the last time you left someone in my custody, don’t you? His name was Curtis. Miles, right?”

  Lynch’s sneer, a thin evil grin, caused an involuntary shudder down Will’s back. A solitary tear for his dear butler crept out of his eye, leaving a wet trail tracking down his cheek. “He was a better friend than most, I’ll admit that. But everyone breaks sooner or later.” A sinister chuckle broke through the man’s lips. “You know, he was the one who sent us to Dr. Adair.” Will shuddered again, trying to keep his composure.

  “Dear Artie withstood our ‘methods’ long enough for us to lose your scent. He was tough and unafraid, but ultimately suffered and gave his life to save yours, with a meaningless prayer still on his lips. A martyr if you will. It’s too bad his sacrifice appears to have been in vain.”

  Will choked down a growing lump and his hand moved to the cross necklace from Artie. His fingers fumbled over the small wooden ornament as the tears flowed. Viewing the scene from his position gave Will a difficult angle to see Lynch’s face, but he couldn’t miss the dark, menacing smile creeping across the man’s face, almost demonic in its manifestation.

  “You know you can’t leave your girlfriend here with us….not after what happened to…” Lynch hesitated, as Will’s own breath nearly strangled him. “…to Allison.” Lynch sneered as the ogre beside him snickered.

  Hearing the name of his beloved wife spoken from the lips of a demon sent surges of shock and anger throughout his body, paralyzing and weakening his muscles. Unable to stand, Will’s legs gave way and his knees sank into the leafy carpet below. Waves of nausea swept over him.

  Deep down, this confirmed his theories about her death. But to hear it like this, openly boasted by her killer, was too much. Arms and legs shaking, Will fought off his blurred vision to stabilize himself against the tree trunk, taking care to remain out of sight.

  His mind raced through limited options. Surrendering was out of the question. Handing himself over would be a death sentence for both him and the girl. While his own life was becoming less and less valuable to himself, he wouldn’t put her life at any further risk. She was an innocent, caught in the crosshairs of a battle she never chose, like Allie. Keeping this girl alive, however, gave the men a bargaining chip to use with Will. They wouldn’t let her die. Not yet.

  Lynch goaded him again. “Why don’t you come out of there Will? Your girlfriend needs your help.” Will clawed his way to his feet and edged further into the woods, hoping they’d be unable to pinpoint his location when he responded. Lynch continued, “If you come out now, maybe we can discuss this like men. Maybe we can work something out.”

  Will steeled himself, settling his breathing and trying to calm his rattled nerves.

  “Be a man, Will! Don’t be a coward. Come on out and save your girl.”

  Will took one final deep breath before exhaling in a loud shout. “Let her go, Sean!”

  Lynch and his monster-sized friend spun toward Will’s voice, not expecting it to come from their left. “That’s better, Will.” The gorilla traipsed toward the edge of the woods in Will’s direction, the sound of his heavy boots making him easy to track.

  “I’m not stupid, Lynch. I already escaped you once. I walk out now and you’ll kill us both.”

  “Oh, Will. After all we’ve been through, don’t you trust me? I always keep my promises.” The giant stomped along the tree line, trying to peer through the branches. “And right now, I say that if you don’t come out, your lady friend here dies.”

  Will remained silent. He struggled to devise a solution that would result in Booth’s daughter walking away unscathed, but couldn’t think of anything. Surrendering was suicide. All he could do was call their bluff. And hope it was a bluff.

  “Do it! I don’t even know the girl.” He choked on the lump in his throat as he challenged them. These men were capable of murder, but she wasn’t their ultimate target. He was, and if they believed she was inconsequential to him, they might send her on her way. Or they might just dec
ide to kill her. It was a long shot, but no other options presented themselves.

  Lynch greeted his challenge with a moment of silence before his cold response. “You sure about that?” He gave the girl a sharp prod in the side, strong enough to elicit a yelp and possibly break a rib. Will winced, but stifled any audible reaction, struggling to maintain his own bluff. The gorilla moved close enough to Will’s hiding place to force a further retreat, cutting off most of his line of sight. All he could spy was Lynch’s sneering face.

  “Interesting. I guess you really don’t care about her.”

  Will didn’t respond.

  Lynch reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He placed it gently between his lips and lit it before drawing a deep breath of acrid smoke into his lungs and then expelling it out into the humid air in a circular puff. “Okay then. Nichols, let’s go.” From his hiding spot, Will heard them turn back toward the house, their shoes crunching on dry leaves underfoot. As he began to relax, Will realized he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled a slow breath and his muscles ceased their twitching.

  “Oh! Will?” Lynch’s voice took on an unsettling lilt. “I almost forgot.” The heart that had begun to settle back in his chest leapt into the throat. A slight pause was followed by another yelp from the girl.

  Then a muffled bang.

  Chapter 18

  Nearly an hour crept by before Will dared to move from his fetal position against the base of the tree. The sun had disappeared, giving way to a dark and cloudy sky, devoid of stars. He felt so empty, so alone. As a gentle rain began to fall, the dirt on ground, already dampened from his tears, liquefied into a muddy cocktail. His tears flowed silently, but his ears had still registered the cleanup efforts of the men in the clearing behind him.

  It had taken them a few minutes to haul the girl’s body to their beat-up truck, roughly heave her in the back, throw the truck in reverse, and peel out down the gravel driveway, launching a spray of rocky pebbles into the air.

  Will blundered to his feet, hampered by muddy bandages. His vision still blurred from tears welling up in his eyes, though the initial deluge had slowed to a trickle. He stumbled away from the house and through the woods. It took forty-five minutes to reach the final bridge out of town, though it seemed to take both no time at all and all the time in the world. His mind was disoriented and distracted, swirling with terrifying, gruesome thoughts and bloody images.

  His recent actions and cowardice cost good people their lives…innocent people. So much blood coated his hands. If only he’d done what he was told…if only he hadn’t snooped into those stupid record books, five innocent people would still be alive and well. Dear Allie, Mr. Miles, Ol’ Art, Mr. Booth and his daughter…Will’s mind blurred as their faces floated before him, taunting him, blaming him.

  When Allie was murdered, life as he knew it ended. He’d believed it couldn’t possibly get any worse. No less than three times in the weeks after her death, he contemplated ending the pain prematurely, through a special blend of medications he once read about in a mystery novel. Once, he even went so far as to mix the deadly cocktail, only to lose his nerve at the last second and hurl the drink across the room, smashing the glass against the far wall.

  But he’d been wrong. Life had only worsened since that pit. As he struggled to deal with Allie’s death, he’d become responsible for four more deaths. Four more innocents.

  This deadly curse had become too much for Will. Every day, every minute, every breath he breathed plunged a dagger into the heart of another innocent person, blithely minding their own business.

  He stumbled toward the dim glow from a solitary street lamp, midway across the bridge to help motorists navigate its slippery terrain through bad storms. As he staggered closer, the river below grew into a raging roar of rapids, crashing into rocks and dragging large branches along with its powerful flow. The increased volume from rainfall runoff magnified and exacerbated its flow. The night was too dark and foggy to see the water as it raged ten stories below, but the noisy rush assured Will it was there.

  Not wanting to endanger another soul with his cursed life, Will clambered onto the wet concrete barrier next to the lamp. He gripped the post for balance as he straightened and tried to gaze down into the river’s watery depths. Will fought to hold steady and keep his balance on the ledge, slippery with rainwater.

  Gathering his composure, he shoved aside his doubts that wrestled with his conscience, keeping them caged. His chest ached with the pain. He closed his eyes and strove to clear his head, to drive away the memories that swam before his mind.

  As the gentle breeze buffeted his open coat, he leaned forward, his weight restrained by the tight grip he kept on the light post. He took a final peek toward the rushing water, but no light penetrated the darkness below. All was black.

  “Allison, my dear, sweet Allie,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry…” And then, taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let go…

  Chapter 19

  Morning began earlier than expected for Jay and Lila Hicks that day. It started jarringly with a wrong number, the shrill ring of their bedside phone sounding three times before the sun even considered rising for the day. On the other end a gruff man’s voice asked for someone they were not. Unable to return to sleep after their rude awakening, they reluctantly rolled out of bed for the day. Well into their seventies, the couple preferred to wake with the sun, so pulling open the shades to blackness felt strange.

  Both Jay and Lila stayed in good shape for their age. Since retiring from the public school system, they strove to find activities to keep their minds and hands busy. Jay put in a few shifts with the retirement community posse, a form of neighborhood watch. While the force dealt with little real crime—only an occasional break-in—the aging population had accidents or falls from time to time. Jay had managed to save a few lives in his brief time on the force.

  Lila split her time between working at a local flower shop, creating various floral arrangements, and volunteering at their church. She’d always found that giving her time in service was one of the most rewarding things a person could do and she took full advantage. Today, however, both had the day off.

  It was Jay who came up with the idea. A handful of trails meandered near their house, including one that wove down by the river. They’d take a stroll and enjoy a stunning view of the morning’s sunrise, the brilliant colors reflecting on the water as the sun emerged from its sojourn around the other side of the world. This morning, the trail seemed muddy, but they’d traversed this trail many times over the years and had come prepared.

  Reaching their destination along the bank, they spread out a blanket and settled down to drink in nature’s splendor. They arrived just as the light began to rise in the east, casting a gorgeous myriad of colors painted across the entire horizon. Reds and oranges and yellows reflected their beauty on everything. Morning dew, combined with moisture deposited during the previous night’s rain, enhanced and brightened every color.

  When the sun completely emerged and the brilliant aerial colors faded, Jay and Lila spent another thirty minutes admiring nature awaken from its slumber. Birds and butterflies fluttered about, flowers appeared to bloom before their eyes, and the sounds of nature enveloped them. Finally, with the warmth of the rays enveloping them, they rose and packed everything for their walk home.

  That was when Lila spotted it. A pile of clothes lay crumpled on the rocks underneath the bridge. Never one to leave litter around, she cautiously picked her way down to gather them. Maybe she could clean the clothes and donate them to a shelter in the city. Jay patiently sat on a nearby park bench to wait for his wife. She clambered down the slope toward the water, each step deliberate and sturdy to avoid slipping on the wet turf.

  The clothes were difficult to see. They’d fallen into a small eddy between two of the larger rocks, but the garments appeared ripped and torn as though tossed and beaten against the stones for most of the night. During last night’s
storm, the calm, peaceful eddy must have transformed into a raging whirlpool, alternating between pulling the clothes out into the whitewater and smashing them against the rocks. So much for donating them.

  Lila came within ten feet of the clothes before she noticed it. “Aaaaaaahhhhhh! Jay!” she screeched.

  The clothes housed within them, just as ripped and torn as the garments themselves, a man’s body. It was almost indiscernible as a person after the beating from the rocks. Sprawled against one of the larger stones, the body gently rocked with the flow of the current. As his chest rose in the water, a cough broke free from his lips.

  He was alive.

  ***

  Dominic and Shannon arrived for work the next day at seven sharp, a full hour before the rest of the office would trickle through the door. Yesterday had been fruitful and both were eager to get to work.

  As they strolled into the office together, a jubilant, somewhat haggard Jacob Sloan greeted them. “Randal! Faye! We’re waiting for you. Come in!” The two shared a look of bewilderment. Their boss was never this perky. Nor this early.

  “We?”

  “We’ve got a visitor.” Sloan spun and headed toward his office, but turned back after a few steps. “Well? Aren’t you coming?”

  “Yes, sir.” Dominic said. He and Shannon fell in step behind him, intrigued. “Who is it?”

  “I’ll let him introduce himself, but he knows a bit about our latest victim. Turns out, Braxton got played. Anyway, I think he’ll be very helpful going forward.”

  “Well…great.” Dominic didn’t know what to say, but the prospect of another break in the case piqued his interest. If this mystery man was as helpful as Sloan suggested, they could be on the verge of cracking this wide open, but he remained suspicious. People rarely dropped into SISA with actionable intel.

  As they neared Sloan’s office a well-dressed, though just as weary-looking, man rose to greet them. Mid-60s, though in better shape than the average man his age. Dominic took the aggressor role, “I’m Special Investigator Dominic Randal and this is Agent Shannon Faye. We’re the lead detectives on this case.”