Southern Comfort: Chandler's Story (The Southern Series Book 1)

by Shelley Stringer

  “Ava, you scared me. Are you all right?” She looked up at me, and curled her arms around my neck.

  “Mommy Andler, I find her! I find pwincess!” she exclaimed.

  “Did you lose your doll?” I took the doll from her she was carrying, thinking she was calling it princess.

  “No, pwincess yamin. Pwincess yamin over dere!” She pointed across the row, toward an open area in the middle of the cemetery. I looked where she pointed, and I could make out an outline of a small figure. I recognized her instantly, with her long hair braided down one side. I could certainly understand why Ava thought she looked like Princess Jasmine. I knew I had to get Ava out of there, before we were discovered. Beau began to growl low in his chest, sensing the figure we were staring at. I put my finger to my lips, and Ava nodded. I picked her up and slung her on my hip, taking Beau by the collar to lead them back. Slowly, tomb by tomb, we crept along until we were back to the gate at the entrance. I walked them down the sidewalk a way, until I could see Mr. Jackson standing on his lawn. I whispered to Beau, “Take Ava home, go home, now, Beau! Ava, you go with Beau, and find Mommy Claudia. Tell Uncle Banton and Uncle John to come and find me at the gate, okay?

  “Okay, Mommy Andler. I get them.” She and Beau ran down the sidewalk, and upon their reaching Mr. Jackson, I turned and retraced my steps back to the cemetery. This is crazy, I thought to myself. What are you doing? I should have been safely back on my porch with Ava, but something about the small creature was pulling me back, as if she was calling to me. I carefully retraced my steps to where I’d knelt with Ava but the female Orco was gone from the clearing. I crouched beside the headstone, scanning up and down the rows for any sign of her.

  “I knew you would come.” There was a whisper, like a hiss, over my left shoulder.

  I jumped, turning to stare into the deep, beautiful turquoise green eyes.

  “Please don’t be afraid of me. I won’t harm you. I need your help.” Her face was so exotically beautiful, her expression so genuine, I instantly believed her. She spoke with an accent I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  “How could you need my help?” I asked warily.

  “You are his woman, the other Navy man. Sam’s friend,” she whispered back.

  “You…you know Sam?” I asked carefully.

  “Yes. He is with us. I mean, with the people who have me and my brothers. They hold him, and torture him. They are using him to draw your man and his friends. They want them badly,” she warned, glancing around us.

  “And you want to help Sam?” I asked her, more of a statement than a question.

  “Yes. He is good, and he fights them. He will not give in. But he plays along with them, biding his time. I don’t know how much longer he can hold out. He has been good to me and to my brothers. We want to leave, but cannot get past him, past my stepfather…” Tears gathered in her eyes.

  “What is your name?” I asked her softly.

  “Olivia. I’m here with my brother, Patrick. Our younger brother, Jonah, stayed behind to watch. We must hurry, there isn’t much time.”

  “What can I do?” I asked frantically.

  “The clan knows your SEALs will attack them soon. The best way to get Sam out is for us to help him while the attack is going on. They will leave few to guard him. Sam is playing along with them, leading them to believe he is slowly losing his human instincts and becoming more violent. They may test him this time, to see if he will fight his former brothers. That will be his chance to escape and when he tries, we will come with him. You need to tell your man, to play along if he encounters Sam…to know Sam’s reactions are an act, and to trust him.”

  “Can you tell me where they are holding him?” I asked.

  “YOU! WE KNEW YOU WERE NOT TO BE TRUSTED!” A large form appeared behind Olivia, grabbing her roughly by the arms as he struck her hard across her face. I recognized him…my stalker…the Orco with the deadlocks.

  I began to back away slowly. A hand shot around me from behind, and cloth covered my face, smothering the scream building in my chest. A sickeningly sweet smell enveloped me as my world turned black and silent.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Consciousness was a long time coming. Upon opening my eyes, I fell into darkness deeper than sleep. My head fell forward, my neck aching from the awkward weight and position I was in. I tried to pull my hands in front of me to hold my head, and I realized my hands were tied behind my back and I was bound to something on the wall. Seated in a small space, there was barely room to move my legs around. My other senses kicked in instinctively, since I could focus on nothing in the pitch blackness. Scurrying noises registered, and I realized there were things moving around me. Rats. I pulled my legs in closer to my body, suddenly repulsed. A wet, dank, musty odor permeated the air as I shivered from the cold.

  I was in the dark recesses of the city’s sewer system. My heart pounded; I became more and more hysterical as my limbs went to sleep - first my legs and then my arms. My head felt like it weighed hundreds of pounds and I could no longer hold it up. I fought the position I was in until I worked my legs in front of me. After exercising them for several seconds, the blood stung and burned, beginning to flow enough so I could draw them up and rest my chin on my knees. I lost all track of time, and I welcomed the periods I would fall asleep, exhausted from just trying to move my limbs.

  During one of the many times I woke to the darkness, I cried out of frustration. I had been so stupid going back to the cemetery alone. This would draw Banton and John and the others into what was certainly a trap. I vacillated back and forth between fear I’d just been abandoned by the Orcos and no one would find me, and fear one of them would come for me. I cried until I didn’t have any tears left, then fatigue finally eased my eyes shut.

  After what seemed like days, a faint light appeared down a long tunnel. It glowed brighter and brighter, finally filling the small chamber I occupied. My eyes hurt from trying to focus, and I could barely control the weight of my own head. But my eyes focused enough to know the creature holding the light was the creature from my window.

  He spoke slowly as he approached me. “So, I finally have what I want. You have eluded me longer than anyone else I have ever hunted.” His voice terrified me; it was smooth and refined sounding. He leaned in to me, stroking the side of my face with his dirty hands, and I could feel his long fingernails sliding down my cheek and down my throat. He brought his face close into mine, his razor sharp teeth gleaming in the light from the lantern he held. “I want to kill you now, to take you first under me and then drink you slowly. To taste your flesh, it is the sweetest around your neck, your chest…” His breath was hot on my neck. Terror pounded in my veins.

  All I could think about was Banton. I was about to die, and I couldn’t tell him how much I loved him, I was sorry I’d been so stupid…he’d never know about the baby, how much I’d wanted to share it with him…

  The Orco paused, and drew back. “But I must bide my time, and do this at the right moment. We have a bigger prize to catch, your man and his friends. They will surely come now, quicker than they did for their friend. He will be so worried about you, he will be distracted. And he will make mistakes. Then we will have him, and I can have you.” He leaned in and pressed his razor sharp teeth to my neck, raking them down to my chest, and then pulling away, laughing.

  They were going to use me as bait, and then let this monster use me and kill me. I was abruptly enraged; thinking of the futility of Banton’s trying to save me. If I could only find a way to let him know this was a trap, but surely he knew already.

  “Please, why are you doing this?” I knew it was futile, but I wanted to keep him talking, to find out anything I could hold on to.

  “I serve the clan. But I live to torture. It gives me such pleasure. First the extreme torture, then the slow kill. The thrill I seek is the only human emotion left I can feel. I crave it!” he hissed, and then left suddenly, leaving me sobbing in the deep blackness of the t
unnel. He was a monster of the worst kind, purely evil, and he only wanted one thing.

  I could hear voices coming from both sides of the tunnel around me, and I knew I was surrounded by the creatures. From the different levels of voices, I figured there were dozens on either side and the futility of the situation overwhelmed me. Even if Banton and the others were able to get through them and find me, all of us getting out would be a completely different matter.

  I’d never felt more alone, or more lost. I had been struggling for the past few hours with the need to relieve myself, having never been untied. My back ached from holding it in, and exhausted, I finally had to go. I cried at the humility of having to soil my own clothes. The waves of nausea came and went, reminding me of the earlier fears I’d had in the privacy of my bedroom, and of the tiny precious life I knew I held inside. I had been so stupid to worry as I did about telling Banton I was pregnant. It seemed like such a small thing compared to what I faced now. I was resigned to hang on, to get through this somehow. I had to protect our baby.

  Hunger pains shot through my stomach, and I wondered how long I’d been here. I faded in and out of consciousness, and during the times I was awake, I would try to move my arms and legs what little I could, to exercise them and get the blood flowing. My head ached, surely from a lack of water; I knew I was dehydrated. I hoped my captors would bring me something just to keep me alive until I’d served their purposes.

  After a while, I began to try to focus on anything that might keep me coherent…anything like daydreams or memories, reliving things over the past six months that had brought me joy. My mind wandered over conversations with Everett. Banton’s arms around me, lifting me from the shower in New Orleans, our whispered kisses in the dark as we shared our intimate thoughts, that first afternoon under the oak tree on campus, when his kisses ignited a passion I’d only dreamed about. I lingered over every detail from the night we first made love, thinking about how gentle he was, how he made me feel. I thought about how beautiful our wedding would have been, I imagined how I would tell him he was going to be a father. I wept as I fingered his ring, flipping it around on my numb fingers, knowing our love was the one thing they could never take from us, even if they took my life.

  I finally fell, thankfully, into a deep sleep. I drifted, hovering over myself, the muffled sounds fading in and out. Cold hands slid over me, removing my clothes, and washing me. I shivered, craving some kind of warmth. Then I was enveloped in a soft blanket, and my head was cradled in cold hands while spoonful after spoonful of hot broth were touched to my dry lips.

  “Drink, dear friend. You must keep your strength up. You are warm now. I will take care of you as long as I can.” I recognized Olivia’s voice, but I couldn’t find the strength to answer her. A dry, mangled mess, my throat contracted so I couldn’t even clear it. I drank deeply of some of the broth she offered me, and some water, and then nearly choked on the sudden wetness.

  I fell into an exhausted, troubled sleep. I was conscious enough to know I was temporarily warm and comfortable, but I knew it would not last. When I woke, Olivia was sitting beside me on a small cot in the side of a dark tunnel. There was just enough light to see her soft, exotic features above my face.

  “How….humm…how long have I been here?” I managed to croak.

  “Five days. They permitted me to clean you up, and bring you here. I convinced them you would be no good to them dead.” She stroked my face as she spoke to me.

  “Have Banton and the others…”

  “Yes, they came the first night. They killed four of our group, before two of their men were wounded. They left, but we know they will return soon. I tried to get to him, to your man, Banton, to lead him to you and to Sam, but they are watching me.” She seemed terrified for herself, and although my predicament seemed much worse than hers, my heart went out to her.

  “My brother Patrick remains with your men,” she continued. “He ran when they captured you and brought us back here. Patrick gives them the information they need; he is our only hope. He knows where they will take us if they move us. They have to get here before they move us to New Orleans, or they will board the ship with us.” Her eyes glistened, and I reached my hand feebly to touch her cheek.

  She continued to talk in the dark. “I’ve told Sam you are here, and they use both of you as bait now. He said for you to hold on, there is a way. He instructed me to convince them to let me take care of you, to keep you alive for him, for Banton.”

  “Thank you, Olivia. Thank you.” I coughed, and my stomach suddenly heaved, and I threw up over the side of the cot what little I had in my system. I cradled my stomach with both hands, worried about the condition I was in, and what effect it might have on the baby.

  “You carry a little one, no?” she asked me softly.

  “Yes,” I admitted it out loud, for the first time.

  She stared at me for several minutes, and held my hand.

  “Olivia, how old are you?” I asked her gently.

  “Seventeen.”

  “And you are an Orco? Were you transformed, or born?” I asked her.

  “No, I was born. My mother was a half-breed, like Sam. My father was an Aldon, but was killed when the pirate ship he was trying to board was blown up. He fought the rogue loogaroon that are in with the pirates. In her grief, my mother fell in with Dante, and he is the one who keeps us here. They killed my mother for trying to escape with us.”

  “And your brothers?”

  “Born, like I was. Patrick is fifteen, and Jonah is twelve. We are all strong, and good fighters. My stepfather hoped to turn us to his tribal ways. But we resist, biding our time.”

  “I’m sorry, Olivia. I hear the pain in your voice. I know what it’s like to be an orphan. I lost my parents recently, too. But I was lucky enough to find Banton.”

  “And I have been lucky enough to find Sam. He loves me, too. He doesn’t care that I am Aldon. We have to get out of here, all of us.” I could hear the desperation in her voice, and I felt a small ray of hope now that I had an ally.

  The Orcos, or Loogaroon, as she had called them, allowed Olivia to continue to bring small amounts of food to me, and to let her take me up the tunnel for rationed bathroom breaks. The rest of the time I stayed chained to the small cot. I was thankful I could stretch out and lie down. I’d begun to lose weight; I wore a torn t-shirt and sweatpants she’d brought to me when she had cleaned me up. They were loose, and I noticed the handcuffs that chained me to the cot were looser on my wrists. I worked for hours, trying to slide my hands out of the rings, making the skin on my wrists raw.

  After waking from a long nap, I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the tunnel. I pulled myself up into a partial sitting position, apprehensive because I could tell the footsteps were too heavy to be Olivia’s. In the dim light, I could make out the form of a young man, about twelve years of age. As he came near, I could see the resemblance. He had the same beautiful features of his sister.

  “Are you Jonah?” I asked as he knelt beside the cot.

  “Yes. And you are Chandler. Olivia sent me to bring you food and water. They wouldn’t let her come.” Sadness darkened his beautiful eyes, and I suddenly felt sorry for him. He smiled up at me, as he pulled a lid off the small bowl he carried and began to spoon the liquid into my mouth. After a few sips, he lifted a cup to my lips, and I drank deeply of the cool water.

  “Can you eat some more? Here.” He began to feed me the soup again.

  After a few more bites I tired, and pushed back into the pillow on the small cot. “Thank you for helping me. But why couldn’t Olivia come?” I asked him.

  He seemed angry, and the emotion was totally out of place on his sweet boyish face. “My stepfather caught Olivia trying to slip out of one of the tunnels on the north side. They took Olivia back into another tunnel, and beat her. She told me to come and take care of you.”

  “Oh, Jonah, I’m so sorry that happened to her. Is she going to be all right?”

&
nbsp; “You know we are Aldon, right?” he asked me innocently.

  “Yes,” I replied, and smiled at him.

  “Well, the beating by another hurts, but we heal really fast. There won’t be any lasting damage. But he told her, if we try to escape, he will kill us, rather than have us leave.” He grew quiet. He reached up and smoothed the hair falling over my forehead. “You are pretty…” He smiled, and then looked away, embarrassed by his compliment.

  I gave him a weak smile. “Go back to your sister, and take care of her, Jonah. And thank you again. I’m feeling much better, now I’ve eaten a little.” He patted my shoulder and then turned to leave.

  * * *

  Hours after I talked with Jonah, I woke from another long nap. I worked my hands in the cuffs again, trying to free them. My wrists burned like they were on fire, and my stomach heaved again. The spasms hurt worse when there was nothing in my stomach to come up.

  “Trying to escape, no, that is a useless endeavor. But it does excite me to think of you fighting me.” The voice I dreaded came from the darkness toward me. My heart pounding, I frantically scanned the tunnel hoping Olivia or Jonah would return and it would delay his plans.

  “I have waited for so long. I will wait no longer. Your men will attack tonight, and I intend for them to find nothing but your drained remains.” Smirking, he reached the side of my cot, his razor sharp teeth gleaming in the darkness. He closed his hands over my ribs, and he lowered himself down on the cot on top of me. I fought against the handcuffs binding my hands over my head as he inhaled and then breathed into my neck. Shredding the t-shirt I wore down the front, he watched me and laughed as I screamed. Everything I did excited him more. He ran his cold, repulsive hands all over my body, and I shrank away from him, unable to fight him off. I kicked and kneed him, but it had no effect on him whatsoever. He grabbed my legs with both of his hands, crushing them beneath the weight he put on them. He thrust his lower body up against mine, between my limp legs. I sobbed, sensing my pelvis was broken. Raising his face upward, his long teeth throbbed, descending toward my neck. I began to cry harder as I turned my head away from him, defeated. I felt him sink his teeth into the shoulder muscle at the side of my neck, and the pain that shot though my body was like a jolt of electricity.