by Chris Carter
‘Before you go, where exactly did they go?’
‘See that little trail at the back of the main building?’ He pointed down to the factory once again. ‘Follow it. That’s where they went, but you’re crazy if you’re thinking about going down there alone. Where the hell is your new partner?’
Hunter hesitated for a few seconds. ‘He’s coming,’ he said in a not very convincing tone.
‘Do you want me to call for back-up?’
‘No. We’ll be OK.’ Hunter knew Captain Bolter would throw a fit if he called for back-up after their conversation earlier.
‘Suit yourself.’
Hunter watched as Steven jumped back into his unmarked vehicle and drove off.
‘What the fuck am I doing?’ he said out loud while checking his weapon. ‘Haven’t you had enough action for one day, Robert?’ He retrieved a small flashlight from his glovebox and started down towards the little path Steven had indicated.
Sixty-Two
Hunter made his way down the dirt track at the back of the old factory, until he came to an iron door concealed by some overgrown vegetation. Behind the door, he found stone steps leading to an underground area. He waited a few seconds listening for any sounds.
Silence.
Cautiously he started down the dark tunnel.
A heavy moldy, damp smell made him gag. He hoped nobody heard him cough.
‘What the hell, Robert?’ he whispered. ‘Another old building, another dark basement . . .’
The tunnel at the bottom of the stairs was narrow, lined in concrete and filled with debris. As he moved deeper underground, voices started to materialize – several voices – angry voices. The foul smell now mixed with some sort of raw sewage. Rats meandered everywhere.
‘I fucking hate rats,’ Hunter murmured through clenched teeth.
He reached a large circular area with a half-demolished square structure at the center of it. Its walls were full of holes. The voices were coming from inside the makeshift structure.
He turned off his flashlight and edged closer, being careful not to disrupt any of the loose bricks that littered the entire underground floor. He went around to the left of the squared structure and positioned himself behind some old cement bags, just a few feet away from the wall. Hunter bent down trying to level his eyes with one of the holes. He could see some movement inside but his angle kept him from having a clear picture.
The voices got louder. He could clearly recognize D-King’s voice.
‘We’re not gonna hurt you. We’re here to get you away from these fucks. You’re free, it’s over. I’m gonna undo your blindfold and gag OK, don’t be afraid, I’m not gonna hurt you.’
What the fuck is going on in there? Hunter thought. He needed to get closer. He inched his way nearer to the wall and quickly found a better position leveling his eyes with one of the larger holes. Three men were standing facing the opposite wall with their hands on their heads. One of them was completely naked, his back entirely covered with what seemed like a tattoo of Jesus on a cross. D-King was kneeling down in the center of the room in front of a petrified-looking brunette woman no older than thirty. She’d been blindfolded, gagged and tied to a metal chair. What was left of her black dress was dirty and torn. Her bra had been ripped off her body. Freshly made cigarette burns surrounded both of her nipples with water blisters already starting to form. Her legs had been spread apart and tied to the sides of the chair. Her dress had been hitched up exposing her vagina with more cigarette burns around it. Parts of her hair were stuck together with what seemed like dried blood. Her bottom lip was swollen and cut.
Hunter watched as D-King reached behind the woman’s head to untie both of her restraints. As the blindfold came off she blinked rapidly several times. The strong light burning her eyes. Her gag had been tied so tightly it had cut into the corners of her mouth. She coughed violently as her mouth was set free. D-King pulled a paper tissue out of his pocket and wiped her face clean of the mascara and bloodstains on her face. One of D-King’s men had already freed her hands and legs and she’d started crying again. Her body was shaking with every new sob, but this time the tears were a combination of fear and relief.
‘What’s your name?’ Hunter heard D-King ask.
‘Becky,’ she replied in-between sobs.
‘You’ll be OK, Becky. We’ll get you out of here,’ D-King said, trying to help her up, but her knees buckled under her. Quickly he grabbed hold of her waist before she collapsed back onto the chair.
‘Easy now . . . your legs are still weak. We gotta do this slowly.’ He turned his attention back to one of his men. ‘Find something to cover her up.’
The man’s eyes searched the room for a piece of cloth or something suitable but found nothing.
‘Here, take this.’ Hunter recognized Jerome from the nightclub. He took off his shirt and handed it to D-King. The massive shirt over the woman’s petite frame looked almost like a long dress.
‘You’ll be OK, Becky. It’s all over now.’
D-King’s voice took a different tone altogether. ‘Take her upstairs, put her in the car and don’t leave her side,’ D-King barked at someone.
Hunter quickly ducked behind some cement bags as best and as quietly as he could, the shadows helping to conceal him. Through an opening between the bags Hunter saw another huge man exiting the room. On his arms the petrified-looking Becky.
‘You’ll be safe with me, Becky,’ the man reassured her in a caring voice.
Hunter waited until they’d disappeared down the corridor and inched closer once again.
‘So you believe in Jesus, do you?’ D-King asked in an angry voice as he approached the naked tattooed man.
No reply.
Hunter saw D-King slam the wooden butt of his double-barreled shotgun into the man’s lower back, who collapsed to the ground. Instinctively, the shortest of the three captured men turned in a reaction, but before he was able to make a move Jerome struck him across the face with an Uzi sub-machinegun. Blood splattered against the wall. Two of his teeth bounced onto the floor.
‘Who the fuck told you to move?’ Jerome’s voice was an angry shout.
Damn, Steven wasn’t joking when he said they had a small arsenal in here, Hunter thought.
‘That girl was what, twenty-eight, twenty-nine?’ D-King hit the man on the floor once again, this time a hard kick to the stomach. ‘Get up and turn around, you sack o’ shit.’ D-King paced in front of the now scared men.
‘Do you know who I am?’ The question hung in the air before the shortest of the three nodded.
D-King looked on in amazement. With a calm voice he continued. ‘So you know who I am and still you took one of my girls from me, raped her, tortured her and killed her?’
No answer.
‘Boy, you’ve just taken the word stupid to new heights. You two . . . strip,’ he ordered, pointing at the two men who were dressed.
They looked back at him with a puzzled expression.
‘Are you fuckers deaf? He said strip,’ Jerome commanded, striking the one who was wearing glasses in the stomach.
‘Wow, she would’ve needed magnifying glasses, boys,’ D-King said, staring at their naked bodies. ‘No wonder you have problems getting women. Tie them to the chairs, just like they do to their victims.’
Click, Hunter heard the unmistakable sound of a semi-automatic pistol being cocked behind him. A split second later he felt its cold barrel being pressed against the back of his head.
‘Don’t even think about moving,’ the voice commanded.
Sixty-Three
The door opened and Hunter was pushed into the room, the gun still pressed hard against the back of his head.
‘I found this piece of shit sneaking around outside. He was packing this,’ the man said, throwing the gun he’d retrieved from Hunter onto the floor. D-King turned to face the new arrival.
‘Detective Hunter? This is a surprise.’
‘Detective?’ Warren, who had
discovered and captured Hunter, said in astonishment.
‘What the hell happened to you?’ D-King asked, staring at Hunter’s bruised and cut face.
‘Don’t look at me, boss,’ Warren said, lifting his hands up. ‘He was already this ugly when I found him.’
Hunter’s eyes quickly scanned his surroundings. The room was illuminated by battery-powered professional filming lights and the entire floor had been covered with plastic sheets. The metal chair Becky had been tied to stood in the center of the room. Next to the wall, behind D-King, a selection of knives had been placed on a small table. On one of the corners a semi-professional video camera had been mounted onto a tripod and just behind it, two extra chairs. It took Hunter less than three seconds to realize where he was.
‘A snuff movie joint? Very classy.’ His eyes fixed on D-King.
‘Oh you’re quick,’ D-King said, before noticing Hunter’s derisive look. ‘Wait a second. You think I run this fucked-up operation? Oh hell no.’
Hunter’s eyes moved over to the three naked men standing against the south wall and then to a shirtless Jerome. ‘So you folks having a little party? Getting down with it?’ He teased, putting on a silly, nasal voice.
‘Oh, you’re in the mood to be funny?’ D-King asked, cocking his shotgun. ‘What the fuck are you doing here, Detective?’
‘I was in the neighborhood. This is one of my favorite hangouts.’
‘You’re in a pretty fucked-up position to be cracking jokes,’ Jerome warned him.
Hunter’s eyes shifted to the three men.
‘My question still stands, Detective,’ D-King said. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’
Hunter kept silent.
‘Wait a second,’ D-King said, squinting his eyes. ‘You slick motherfucker. You wanted me to do your job for you, ain’t that right?’
Jerome looked confused. ‘What?’
‘He knew I’d be going after whoever hurt Jenny with everything I had, so he sat still with his eye on me waiting for me to do all the hard work, waiting for me to scan the streets for him so he could turn up at the last minute and take the glory.’
‘Not quite like that,’ Hunter replied.
‘Well, I’ve got some bad news for you, Detective. The girl in your computer picture isn’t Jenny. Your maniac killer didn’t get to her. These three cocksuckers did.’ He pointed to the three naked men. ‘They raped, tortured and sodomized her before ripping her neck open. I’ve got it all on film.’ The anger was back in D-King’s voice and he exploded in a new violent rage slamming his shotgun barrel into the lower abdomen of the tattooed man for a second time. Hunter watched.
‘Tie them to the chairs,’ D-King commanded, tilting his head towards Warren.
‘You’re a policeman, do something,’ the one with glasses pleaded.
‘Shut the fuck up,’ Warren shot back, punching the man in the mouth.
‘He’s right,’ Hunter intervened. ‘I can’t just allow you to take your vengeance any way you want to.’
‘Stay the fuck out of this, Detective. This ain’t your show.’
‘I’m making it my show.’
D-King looked around the room with a sarcastic smile on his lips. ‘I think you’ll find you’re outnumbered, Detective. What do you think you can do?’
‘And if he’s got back-up boss?’ Jerome asked.
‘He doesn’t. If he did they’d be down here already,’ D-King said, throwing Hunter a defiant look.
‘Tie them up,’ D-King commanded again.
A couple of minutes later the three naked men sat tied to metal chairs in the center of the room.
‘Look, you’re not in the wrong yet,’ Hunter said, taking a step closer to D-King. ‘This still hasn’t gotten out of hand. Let me take them in. Let the law deal with them. They’ll rot in jail.’
‘If I were you I’d stand still,’ Warren said, lifting his gun and aiming at Hunter’s head.
‘If you were me you’d be good-looking,’ Hunter shot back. ‘D-King, I know you’re upset by what they did to Jenny, but we can solve this the right way.’
D-King let out a loud laugh. ‘Somehow “upset” doesn’t quite say it. And this is the right way. Let me bring it to you real, Detective Hunter. The law will allow them to walk and you know it. They’ll turn this thing around using some bullshit technicality as they always do. If you take them in, you’ve gotta take us in and that ain’t happening, baby. Sorry, Hunter, we’ve gotta deal with them our way.’
‘I can’t just stand here and watch you kill them.’
‘Close your eyes then. You’re not even supposed to be here. These people kidnap, rape, and kill women for profit.’
Hunter gave D-King a nervous laugh. ‘Coming from you that’s grand.’
‘Oh hell no. You ain’t comparing me to these fucks? I don’t force any of my girls to do the job they do. I also don’t force anyone to hire them. What these guys do, whatever way you look at it, is just fucking sick. Look at this place. How does this compare to what I do?’
Suddenly, catching everyone by surprise, the wall behind D-King swung open. A tall, shaven-headed man holding a Desert Eagle .50 pistol in each hand emerged, his eyes wide open, his pupils dilated, his nostrils inflamed. There was a murderous and deranged look on his face.
No one had any time to react. As gunshots showered the room Hunter sensed his opportunity and jumped to the floor searching for his pistol.
The onslaught of bullets had neither aim nor specific direction. One of the filming lights exploded with a deafening blast. The sudden change in light blinded everyone for a split second and on instinct D-King ducked down – bullets hitting the wall behind him, missing his head by a fraction. He heard Warren’s agonized cry as his colossal body crumpled to the floor, both of his hands covering his face, blood dripping through his fingers.
Jerome stood his ground like a fearless soldier ready to face death. He squeezed the trigger on his machinegun and the wave of bullets found its target with military precision. The intruder’s body shook violently with every blow and he tumbled back. The total impact was so powerful it almost separated his legs from his torso. His limp body fell to the floor. The entire gun-fight lasted less than ten seconds.
As the shots died down, their echoes were replaced by the terrified screams of the three helpless naked men. Miraculously they were still alive.
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Jerome blasted in a heated voice, turning his Uzi towards them.
‘Chill, nigga!’ D-King shouted, aiming his shotgun at the newly revealed door. ‘They’re no threat to us. Check him,’ he gestured towards the semi-mutilated intruder.
Warren was still on the floor, his hands and shirt covered in blood.
Hunter was also up on his feet with his gun in hand. ‘OK everyone, put your guns down.’
D-King’s aim moved from the door to Hunter as did Jerome’s. ‘This ain’t the time for this kind of crap, Detective, there could still be more people hiding in that room. I ain’t got no beef with you, not yet, but if I have to I will gun you down like a dirty dawg. Remember, you’re still outnumbered and outgunned.’
Hunter’s aim stayed on D-King. The trigger mechanism on Hunter’s Wildey Survivor pistol had been modified to lighter than normal. That, coupled with the knowledge that the average trigger resistance on a double-barreled shotgun is about half a pound heavier than most pistols, meant Hunter knew he could squeeze a shot out at least a second faster than D-King could. On the other hand, Jerome with his Uzi would pose a bigger problem. But they weren’t the enemy. Hunter wasn’t about to start another gunfight. And he sure wasn’t about to risk getting shot on behalf of the three naked scumbags in the room. He moved his aim away from D-King.
‘OK, let’s secure this place.’
‘Warren, talk to me, how’re you doing, buddy? Are you hit?’ D-King called out without diverting his attention from his primary target.
Like a wounded animal Warren emitted a loud growl indicating he was still
alive.
‘This one is dead,’ Jerome announced, standing over the lifeless body by the new door.
D-King turned his attention back to the three tied-up men. ‘Anyone else where that motherfucker came from?’
No reply.
‘Anyone else in that room?’ he asked, pressing the barrels of his shotgun against the tattooed man’s head.
‘No.’ The answer finally came from the shortest of the three.
D-King nodded at Jerome who slotted a new clip onto his Uzi and very cautiously stepped into the new room. ‘We’re clear here,’ he called out after a few seconds.
‘I’ve gotta check on Warren. Jerome, keep your gun on Hunter.’
Jerome turned and aimed the Uzi at Hunter who returned the favor.
D-King placed his shotgun on the floor and rushed to Warren’s side.
‘OK, let me take a look. Move your hands.’
Warily Warren removed his bloody hands from his face. D-King wiped some of the blood away with his shirt in an attempt to get a better look. He saw two large cuts – one on Warren’s forehead and the other on his left cheek.
‘No bullets,’ D-King said after a quick examination. ‘You weren’t hit by bullets. It looks like shrapnel from the walls. You’ll live.’ He took off his shirt and placed it in Warren’s hands. ‘Here, just keep pressure over the wounds.’
‘Boss, you gotta come and have a look at this.’
Something in Jerome’s voice worried D-King.
‘What is it?’
‘You have to see it for yourself.’
Sixty-Four
D-King picked up his shotgun and approached Jerome by the open door. He stood rigid. His eyes carefully scanning the new room. ‘What the fuck?’ he whispered,. ‘Hunter, come and have a look at this.’
Hunter cautiously joined them.
The new room was in much better shape than the one they were in. The ceiling had been painted blue and decorated with what looked like a million fluorescent stars. The walls were even more colorful, displaying a tremendous variety of drawings – dragons, wizards, horses, leprechauns . . . On the far wall a series of wooden shelves held an impressive collection of toys – dolls, cars, action figures with even more toys scattered all over the floor. A large rocking horse sat to the left of the door. Against the west wall a video camera had been placed on a tripod.