Generation Z (Book 4): The Queen Unthroned

by Meredith, Peter

  At the sight of him, Eddie actually took a wobbling step back. “N-Neil…you’re alive. How are you still alive?”

  “Someone messed up, that’s how,” Neil said, giving the cuffs one last furious tug before realizing that he would pull his hand off before he broke free. He went back to trying to use the tiny key, glaring at Eddie as he did. “What the hell, Eddie? What’s with the gun? Why are you scaring Emily?”

  “They want her.”

  “They?” Neil asked. He had just slipped the key into the lock but the word was so ominous sounding that for a moment he forgot it existed. “Who is they?”

  “The Corsairs.”

  Neil began blinking, rapidly. In stark contrast, his mind moved with agonizing slowness towards the obvious. “The Corsairs? How would you know what the Corsairs want…” He sucked in his breath in shock. “It was you! You poisoned me. Son of a bitch! If I get these damned chains off, I’ll kill you.” He tried to twist the key in the lock, but in his fury, he couldn’t get his fumbling, numb fingers to work like they used to.

  “I had to do it,” Eddie whispered. “They were threatening my family. They said…” From high above them came a rumble of feet; Stu and Mike were hurrying down stairs to find out what all the ruckus was. Eddie went as grey as Neil. His Adam’s Apple started bobbing up and down. “If they find out that you’re still alive, they’ll kill Gina and Bobby. I have to kill you.”

  “And what about Emily? Huh? Go ahead and shoot me, I don’t really care. Someone’s gonna have to do it, eventually, but don’t you dare touch her. Promise me, Eddie.”

  The pistol was shaking in Eddie’s hand. “I’m not supposed to kill her. I’m supposed to deliver her alive.”

  “To where?” Neil demanded.

  “You know where.”

  Emily didn’t need to be told where: Grays Harbor. She had heard the horrible rumors of the place. They were so sick that she knew Mr. Sanders couldn’t be thinking of taking her there. It had to be a joke, or a prank, or she was in a dream. It certainly felt like she was drowning in a nightmare.

  Her life had been swimming along just fine two minutes before and now it was crumbling.

  Neil started scrabbling at the lock again, his rage filling his throat with bile. “If you touch her, Eddie, I swear to God I will rip out your throat.”

  Eddie had let the gun fall; now, as Stu came down the basement stairs at a run and Neil finally got the key turned, Eddie pointed it again. “I’m sorry, Neil.”

  “Don’t!” Emily screamed. “Don’t do it!” She started to get up but was too slow. Eddie pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light and what sounded like an explosion. Blood splashed on the wall behind Neil and then her uncle was down, a hole almost dead center in his chest.

  The sound of the gunshot was so shockingly loud that not only was Emily deafened, it felt as though she was concussed as well. Her mind felt like jelly. She stood and teetered in place, the room spinning around her in slow motion. A hand grabbed her before she could go to Neil’s side. She was spun until she was facing the door and then something stinging hot touched her temple. The smell of burnt hair crept into her nostrils.

  Nothing made sense; the smell, the ringing in her ears, the blood on the wall. She thought she was going to faint.

  One of the newcomers—Stu—appeared in the doorway. He took in the room, a rock-hard scowl etched onto his youthful features made him look thirty-one instead of twenty-one.

  “Get in here,” Eddie demanded in a strangled voice. “All of you. Get in or I’ll kill her.”

  The hot barrel pressed harder, but Emily didn’t care. She twisted in his grip, though not to escape; she needed to see Neil. She needed him to be alright. He wasn’t. Around him was a ring of blood that was spreading further and further outward. It was so much blood and he was such a small man.

  Roughly, she was yanked around again as Eddie yelled, “All of you get in here, now! I won’t ask again.”

  Stu eased in with his hands up followed by Mike. Jenn was nowhere to be seen. Eddie started licking his lips rapidly like some sort of snake. “Ok, look, nobody wants you guys. All they want is her. So just be cool and get down on the floor and no one’s gonna get hurt.”

  Mike knelt with a grimace; he had tweaked his ribs jumping out of bed. Stu didn’t budge. He stared at Eddie with flinty eyes. “You work for the Corsairs? Listen to me. They want me way more that they want her. Trust me, you’ll come out ahead if you let me take her place.”

  “Get down!” Eddie thundered, pointing the gun.

  “Down there?” Stu asked, pointing at the bare cement next to Mike.

  Eddie was almost purple with rage. “Yes! Get your ass down. I’ll shoot you just like I shot Neil. Don’t tempt me.”

  “But it’s so dusty,” Stu drawled.

  “You think I’m playing, don’t you?” Eddie said, thumbing back the hammer on the pistol. “Try me one more time. I’m going to count to three. One…two…”

  Stu’s eyes went to squints. “Could you count to four, instead. That guy’s taking forever to get up.” He gestured with his chin behind Eddie.

  Eddie refused to look back. He knew what Stu was trying to pull. “I’m not going to play your game. Three.” Eddie didn’t know if he was going to pull the trigger or not, but Stu sure thought he was. The rangy Hillman dropped like a grenade was about to go off and just as he did, Neil slammed into Eddie from behind.

  The gun went off, punching through the wall right where Stu had been standing. Emily was thrown forward, landing on Stu, while Eddie landed on her with a rabid Neil Martin at the very top of the pile. It was a wild tangle of arms and legs and wriggling bodies. Blood was everywhere; Neil’s was rich and dark, while Eddie’s was bright red, shooting from an artery that Neil had torn open.

  Seconds into the melee, Eddie’s gun went off again. There was a guttural scream of rage and before Emily could squirm out from the entire thing, a knee dug into her back. Her breath was crushed out of her as she was pinned against Stu. She felt as though she was suffocating and for a few moments all she cared about was drawing her next breath. In desperation, she twisted sideways. The knee slipped off her and now pinned Stu.

  Even though her diaphragm was still partially paralyzed, she knew she needed to help Neil. He was a small, middle-aged man, who had been weak and somewhat frail even before a bullet had torn a gaping hole in his chest. He wouldn’t be able to last, or so she thought. As she twisted, she saw that Neil had changed. He was blood-maddened. His eyes were red as a demon’s and his normally ugly, scarred face had been transformed into that of a monster.

  With a roar, his fingers dug into soft flesh as he finally found the leverage he was looking for. Emily was shocked to the core as her little uncle picked up Eddie Sanders by the crotch and the throat and threw him across the room.

  Eddie landed in a crumpled heap; his eyes going in different directions. It was a good bet that he was too stunned to put up a fight; that didn’t matter to Neil. Emily’s kindly uncle had become a fiend. He rushed on Eddie and made good on his promise by tearing out his throat—with his teeth.

  Emily backed away as Neil did more than just kill the man. He fed on him, the sounds; the slurping, the crunching, and the grunting, were so repellent that she thought she was going to puke. Next to her, Stu was the color of old cheese as he too backed away.

  It took Stu a second to gather his wits. “Where’s the gun?” Eddie was no longer the problem. The gun was nowhere to be seen, which meant it was still with or near Eddie’s corpse. No one wanted to get close enough to Neil to find out.

  “We should leave him be,” Mike suggested and was just pointing at the door when they heard steps on the floor above.

  “Is that Jenn?” Emily asked.

  “No, I’m right here,” Jenn said from the hallway. The room had been so crowded and the fight so quick and sharp that she hadn’t had any time to do a thing.

  “Mom?” Emily yelled, her voice shrill with fear. “We�
�re downstairs. Th-there’s been an accident.” The room looked like the scene of a multi-murder, not an accident. The four of them decided to get out of there before Neil turned completely. They gently shut the door and were hurrying for the basement stairs when the person walking about above them decided to come down. The four were unarmed and they held their collective breaths until they saw that it was just Joslyn Reynolds, now wearing jeans, boots and a heavy fleece coat that was two sizes too large for her. She had her hood up against the cold.

  “What the hell happened?” she cried when she saw the blood on Stu and Emily. “Were you attacked?”

  Stu felt as though they had stumbled into something that really shouldn’t have been their business. He didn’t know who knew what, or what the dynamics of the situation were. He left it up to Emily to explain. She was getting the shakes. It made her voice tremble as she gave an explanation that was both stilted and rambling. It also didn’t make any sense. She cut out Neil’s presence entirely, which left gaping holes in the story and made it sound implausible.

  “And you’re sure Eddie’s dead?” Joslyn asked. “I guess I don’t get how he cut his throat.”

  “He just did. And that’s not the point, anyways. He was a Corsair spy! He wanted to kidnap me. We have to tell my mom.”

  Emily started up the stairs; however Joslyn stepped in front of her. “Slow down. Your mom is speaking at the potluck right now. She’s also one of the judges for the pie contest.”

  “Don’t you think this is more important than pies?” Jenn asked.

  “Yeah,” Emily said, and once more tried to push past Joslyn.

  Joslyn stopped her again. “Hold on! Give me time to think, will you? We can’t just run off half-cocked. We need a plan. Eddie is dead. I just can’t believe it.”

  “A plan for what?” Jenn asked. She had the feeling that something wasn’t right with Joslyn. She was upset, sure, but she wasn’t afraid or even bewildered. She seemed angry. An odd reaction. “Who needs a plan to tell the Governor that her daughter was attacked and almost kidnapped?”

  “I agree,” Mike said, gently pushing Jenn behind him. “Tell me what’s in your pocket.”

  The older woman had come down the stairs with her right hand in her pocket and her left trailing along the banister. Her right was still unseen. She pulled it out now and there was a flash of silver. It was a tiny 380 Ruger LPC. “You should be careful about what you ask for, boy, you just might get it.”

  Chapter 47

  Stu Currans felt like the forgotten man. On an island of thousands of people, he stood alone, unspoken to, and unwanted. Normally, this wouldn’t bother him. He had always been both self-sufficient and self-contained. This night was different. He wanted to be heard, but no one would listen; he wanted to be part of the group but no one wanted him near them.

  Deanna had nearly come apart at the seams when Stu told her that her only child had been kidnapped. During his story she looked scattered and lost, as great crystal tears brimmed over and dropped onto her cheek—then Stu came to the part Joslyn Reynolds had to play.

  Grief turned to rage in an instant and where before she had been pale, she now went crimson. “Tell me one more time,” she demanded. “Start at the beginning. I want every detail.”

  It hadn’t been easy to tell the story the first time and as Stu rehashed it once more, his voice cracked. It wasn’t just Emily who had been kidnapped, Joslyn had taken Mike and Jenn as well.

  “Sorry, but I have to,” Joslyn had said. She hadn’t looked sorry at all. She had looked hungry. “The Captain doesn’t allow for mistakes and Eddie was a mistake. The girl will make up for it. Jillybean’s best friend. Yes, you’ll do just fine.”

  “I was Jillybean’s best friend,” Jenn insisted in something of an uncharacteristically high whine. She no longer looked the part of queen to Stu. For once in her life, she looked like a girl, soft and vulnerable. She had been given just a taste of what a real home could be. For one day, she’d had everything. She’d been safe and loved. She’d been popular. She had a full belly and a soft bed. The people around her had been friendly and generous and amazing. This was what real life was supposed to be and she didn’t want to lose it. Not so quickly, not after everything she had suffered.

  It was a desperate, tearful fifteen-year-old girl that Stu barely recognized, who begged, “We already told you that she tried to kill us. Please. Please. You don’t want me.”

  Joslyn hadn’t been convinced and the gun did not waver even slightly. “I’m sorry, but it’s either I take you or I kill you. I really don’t see any other option.”

  “You could kill yourself,” Stu suggested. “It would make the world a better place, believe me.”

  “Better for who?” Joslyn sneered. “If I kill myself, it won’t be better for you guys, or for Bainbridge, or for anyone. The Black Captain is too strong and Jillybean is a nutcase. She’s not going to last and when she falls, her little empire is going to crumble.”

  “I’ll take my chances with her,” Stu said. “She’s a little off, but deep down…”

  Joslyn’s laugher interrupted him. “Deep down she’s even crazier! And no, she won’t last. The Captain has spies and assassins everywhere. There’s probably twenty on Bainbridge, alone. He hooks you when you’re weak. That’s all it takes, one moment of weakness and then he has you and he won’t let go.”

  “You could take me instead,” Mike said. “I promise I won’t try to run away. I’ll even help you get off the island.”

  “There’s no instead,” Joslyn told him. “There’s no either or. I’m taking you too, since I need someone to pilot the Calypso. And, get this through your thick heads, I won’t hesitate to shoot anyone who tries to run away. We all know what happens to spies if they’re caught. So, if my life is on the line, so is yours.”

  She kept the gun leveled as she dug in her back pocket for a pair of handcuffs. “Cuff the girls together,” she told Stu. “And then go into one of those back rooms and plant yourself.”

  Stu was surprised. “You’re not taking me?”

  “No. You’ll end up getting us all killed by doing something stupid. Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about. I can see your little mind working, mister hero.” She wasn’t wrong. He had remained tense, ready to spring at her the second her attention wandered.

  Now, he wouldn’t get the chance. He went to a back room, but he didn’t sit. Instead, he stood at the door, listening to the thumping sounds coming from somewhere on the floor above him. When the house grew quiet a minute later, he raced for the stairs only to discover that the one door out of the basement had been barricaded. He heaved at the door, straining with all his might. When that didn’t move it, he threw himself at it in desperation.

  His shoulder was bruised to the bone when Neil Martin came sauntering from the back room. He didn’t seem to notice the hole in his chest.

  “Whatcha doing?” he asked, sucking his teeth.

  “That woman…Roslyn, took Emily and my friends.”

  Neil squinted back the way he had come. “No. That was Eddie who tried to do that. And who is Roslyn? Do you mean Joslyn? Joslyn Reynolds? You must have the wrong person.”

  “No, it was her. She was with the Governor this afternoon. Five-foot-three, brown hair, pretty, probably around thirty-five or so.”

  The sleepy, contented look on Neil’s blood-reddened face fell away. “And she took Emily? That bitch! Look out.” He stomped up to the door and hurled his small frame against it, leaving a ghastly red smear behind. The door held against his strength, which was appalling to Stu; however, it did not hold against their combined strength. Gradually they pried it forward. When they had a ten-inch gap, they squirmed through and then raced through the house to the front door. It was only then that Stu saw Neil was carrying Eddie’s pistol.

  “I better take that,” he told Neil. “I don’t think people will understand seeing a guy who’s part zombie carrying a gun.” Stu was surprised when Neil ha
nded it over without a thought. The two then limped and gimped down to the docks which were strangely dark and eerily silent. The twenty-three foot Calypso was just pulling through the water gate, heeling far over with all her sails set.

  “Shoot it!” Neil hissed. “Shoot the boat.” Stu wouldn’t. He could see Mike at the helm, his blond hair streaming, but he couldn’t tell Joslyn from Emily or Jenn, and couldn’t take the risk. “Are you always this useless?” Neil growled, as he pushed Stu aside, nearly knocking him into the water. Neil had been limping and now it became more pronounced as he stumped to the little shack that the harbormasters used to keep out of the cold. Inside they discovered three contorted bodies in a ghastly heap.

  Although their faces were swollen and purple, Stu knew Danny McGuinness by his sheer size. Neil bent down and heaved him away as if he were filled with air instead of lard. He then picked up the next corpse by his jacket. “That’s got to be Todd Karraker. Damn it! Todd was a good guy. And crap! That’s Steve Gordon.”

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t touch them,” Stu cautioned, leaning back from the doorway. “They were probably poisoned. It could still be in the air.”

  “Maybe if I’m lucky, it’ll kill me,” Neil growled. He stepped over the bodies and began ringing the brass harbor bell for all he was worth.

  He was hoping to gather a posse together to go after Joslyn. Instead, the two were arrested on the spot and it was thirty minutes before Deberha Perkins, the island’s lone sheriff, was able to inspect the evidence at both crime scenes. Her official report to the Governor was, “They may be telling the truth.”

  By then, the entire island was in an uproar. A posse was indeed formed and every boat on the island was launched. Those with sails went north, chasing the Calypso, which could still be seen at the far end of the island, beating heavily against a seven-knot headwind. The dingies, rowboats, and skiffs were thrown on the now forgotten Fall Festival floats and hauled to the very tip of the island where they were launched with every available rower.