Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back

by Shupert, Derek

  Russell removed his seat belt and squinted out of the windshield. “Let’s not forget the crusade you ventured out on after those guys killed your wife and you chased them to the town Max and me were in. You didn’t seem to give the same consideration then as you are now.”

  “True,” Clyde said, shrugging.

  “There’s a couple of dead bodies near the building. That’s our place.”

  Clyde stopped the truck about twenty feet or so from the open door and the two dead suits that laid sprawled out on the pavement. He killed the engine and removed the keys. “I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad sign.”

  “We’re about to find out.” Russell opened his door, and jumped to the ground.

  Max leapt over the center console to the passenger seat, then to the pavement.

  “Stay close and keep your eyes and ears open,” Russell said to the canine, shutting the door behind them.

  They made their way around the front of the truck. Russell brought his Ruger to bear–training it at the side entrance of the building, then down to the two men on the ground.

  Clyde got out of the Silverado, and caught up with them, mimicking every move that Russell made.

  Max galloped ahead of them, charging the two men lying on the pavement. He slowed to a trot, then stopped shy of the motionless bodies. He sniffed the leg of the suit positioned near the edge of the door.

  Russell covered both men as the canine investigated. Both suits had holes in their chests. Blood smirched their shirts and coats. He moved around the bodies, dug the flashlight out, and trained it at the dark entrance.

  Clyde moved past him. He peered down the alley toward the opposite end, then checked the way they came. He retrieved his light and thumbed the switch.

  Both beams of white light shone at the blackness inside the building. Russell turned his head to the side and listened for any noises looming from the ether. “I don’t hear or see any other lights from inside.”

  “They could’ve bounced, or they’re all dead,” Clyde replied in a whisper.

  Max jumped over one of the dead suits and approached the doorway. He lowered his head and stared at the black shroud.

  Russell advanced into the building with Max at his side. The light swept the narrow hallway with the Ruger trained ahead. An opening at the end of the hallway came into sight.

  Max’s panting echoed in the silence, melding with the rattle of his tags.

  A growl escaped the German shepherd.

  Russell stopped, holding Clyde up behind him. He noticed what looked to be another body on the floor.

  “What is it?” Clyde asked in Russell’s ear.

  “There. On the floor, past the edge of the wall.” Russell tilted the light down, shining the beam at another dead body.

  They moved as one past the corner to the open space. More dead bodies were spread throughout.

  Clyde stepped around Russell and advanced across the room to the far hallway. His head stayed on a swivel, checking all around. He trained the light down the passageway that led to the front of the pizzeria. “I’ve got another dead body down this way.”

  Russell sifted through the corpses, shining his light on the face of each person. He prayed that Sarah wasn’t part of the massacre. He stopped at of one the bodies and bent down. The man looked familiar, and it took Russell a second to remember who he was. “I know this man. Detective Stone’s his name. I’ve seen him around the police department a time or two.”

  “Oh yeah?” Clyde shot back from near the passageway. “That’s weird. I wonder why he’d be here?”

  “I’m not sure, but there’s another beat cop here as well.” Russell shone the light at the other dead officer. “I don’t see, though.”

  Clyde turned and trained his light and pistol at the hallway leading to the alley. “Don’t move or I’ll fire.”

  Russell stood and pointed the Ruger in the same direction.

  Max growled from the other side of the table in the center of the room.

  “It’s me. Don’t fire and lower your weapons,” Rick said from the corridor.

  Clyde exhaled and lowered the gun. “Christ. What the hell? I could’ve shot you? Why are you even here?”

  Russell pointed the Ruger at the ground as Rick stepped out from the hall into view. “How did you find us?”

  Rick lowered his piece. “An undercover buddy of mine, in the Boston Police Department, told me about this place. He heard chatter about something that went down here, something about a woman matching Sarah’s description, so I thought I’d check it out before coming to you. How did you two find out about it.”

  “Something went down for sure,” Clyde replied, shining his light around the space.

  Russell ignored Rick’s question. “Did you find anything else out?”

  “Yeah. He mentioned that your wife’s stalker, Spencer, was supposedly working both sides of the fence. Playing ball for Kinnerk and Bryce at the same time,” Rick answered.

  “Oh really?” Clyde asked, rubbing his chin. “I wonder why he’d be doing that?”

  “Maybe to get at Sarah,” Russell said. “From what I heard from David, he had a rather big thing for Sarah and wouldn’t leave be. He kept texting and doing other things.”

  “Word has it that both Bryce and Kinnerk’s men wanted that Spencer guy dead, along with a much larger player who they’re still trying to flush out.” Rick looked at Russell. “The department is still looking into both groups, but given the state of things in the city, the investigation has been tabled until things are better under control. As soon as they can spare some officers, the department will be sending people over here to secure the scene.”

  Russell sighed and tilted the light at the ground. “That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t help with me finding Sarah right now. Unless she’s somewhere else in this building, then we’re shit up a creek without a paddle.”

  Rick tapped his finger to his lips. “In passing, he also mentioned something strange about a police car chase not too far from here involving two black luxury sedans. The driver of the squad car was a woman, and one of the men reported after her was wearing some sort of ghost face mask or something. My buddy said that Spencer has been known to wear a similar covering, though, he’s speculating on that.”

  Russell turned and trained his light at Detective Stone and the other officer. “We found these two here. I know the suit. Detective Stone. Not sure about the other uniform.”

  Rick dipped his chin and studied both men. “That’s weird. Not sure why they’d be here unless they happened to come across illegal activity going down.”

  “That would be a rather big coincidence, wouldn’t it?” Russell shot back.

  “Given what’s going down outside at the moment, I’d say yeah, that would be.” Rick bowed his head in agreement.

  “Could that have been Sarah in the cruiser?” Clyde asked. “Maybe she managed to get away and took the police car.”

  “It’s possible and kind of lines up with what my buddy said,” Rick replied, looking away from the two dead cops.

  Russell chewed on the information. “Were you able to find out where Spencer lives?”

  Rick reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Russell. “My undercover buddy had a paper file on him. He has a place in town and a cabin out in the middle of the woods. The cabin wasn’t linked directly to him, but through another name. They kind of stumbled upon it. Dumb luck I think.”

  “So, we go check out his place here in the city?” Clyde asked, holding both hands up in the air.

  Russell shook his head. “I don’t think he’d be at his apartment.”

  “Why not?” Clyde asked, raising his brow. “It’s close by, and for someone needing to lay low and be off everyone’s radar, he’d need to go someplace safe.”

  “Exactly.” Russell pointed at Clyde. “Think about it. If you’re on the run from two different mobsters, plus an unknown larger third party, and you
’ve kidnapped someone, are you going to go where your address is readily available, or would the smarter move be to head to some remote location that is not as easy to find? If I was in his shoes, I’d head to the cabin.”

  Rick and Clyde stared at one another and shrugged.

  “Makes sense and is plausible,” Clyde replied.

  “I’d bet he’s at the cabin with Sarah,” Russell said, poking the paper with the tip of his finger.

  “We should probably check both out just to be sure,” Clyde shot back. “You never know. The stakes are high here, and your wife’s life could hang in the balance.”

  Rick held his hand up. “I can check his place out here in town if you want while you two look into that cabin. I’m with you. If he’s anywhere, he’s probably going to be at that cabin. Besides, I want to head back to the station and circle back with my buddy to see if he knows why these two detectives would be here.”

  “Good idea,” Russell replied, tilting his head. “Can you do me a favor when you get back to the station?”

  “Sure. What’s that?” Rick asked.

  “Keep an eye on Mandy, will you? Seeing these two here just feels off for some reason. I can’t explain it.” Russell glanced back down at both cops.

  “Of course. When I get back to the station, I’ll make sure she’s safe,” Rick said.

  “How are we going to get this cabin?” Clyde asked, making his way across the room toward them. “My truck is sucking fumes at this point, and won’t make it out of the city without refueling first.”

  Rick dug his hands into the front pocket of his jeans and fished out a set of keys. He tossed them to Clyde. “You can take my ride. It’s got a full tank of gas.”

  “Where did you get a car at?” Russell asked, glancing at him.

  “I improvised.” Rick winked and smiled.

  “Works for me.” Clyde dug the keys to the truck out of his pocket, then handed them to Rick. “Take care of my truck.”

  “I will.” Rick took the keys, then pointed to the alley. “I actually parked behind your truck.

  Russell turned and shone the light in the direction he heard the German shepherd milling about. “Max. Come on, bud. Time to go.”

  “You be safe. This Spencer character could be dangerous.” Rick looked to Clyde, then to Russell. “Watch your backs out there.”

  Russell extended his hand toward Rick. “You do the same and thanks for everything.”

  Rick grabbed his hand and shook it. “Not a problem. Just get that wife of yours back, all right?”

  “Will do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SARAH

  Spencer pulled himself off the floor by the top of the couch cushion, sounding like a wounded animal. His bloody fingers rubbed on the fabric of the furniture, discoloring it with a shade of red.

  Sarah pushed away from the couch, and crawled over Scar’s body for his pistol. Her arm stretched out, fingers wiggling for the grip.

  “Are you–” Spencer peered at Sarah making a move for the weapon on the floor. “Sarah. What are you doing?”

  Sarah grabbed the grip, then sat up. She brought the pistol to bear, and trained it at the back of the couch. “Finishing this once and for all.”

  Spencer released the cushion and dropped to the floor as Sarah pulled the trigger. He hit on the other side with a loud thump.

  Fire spat from the end of the pistol.

  The lone bullet punched the back of the couch and tore through the other side. The report added to the ringing already plaguing her ears.

  Sarah patted the pants pockets of Scar for the keys to their car while keeping the gun and her sights fixed on the couch. Both pockets felt empty. She moved to Blondie and patted him down.

  “I don’t know if you realize or understand this, Sarah, but we need to stick together,” Spencer said through strained breath from the other side of the couch. “They know where we are. It’s no longer safe here. We need to gather up what we can and move.”

  Sarah felt around Blondie’s pockets, but came up short. “I plan on moving, just without you.”

  The floor creaked from behind the couch. The Creeper was on the move, but she couldn’t see him.

  “I hate to tell you this, sweetie, but you won’t make it out there on your own,” Spencer said. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, Valintino isn’t like Bryce or Kinnerk. They’re bad, but he’s worse than the two of them combined. If he managed to track me down here, then he’ll be able to track you down wherever you go. Face it. Our best chance to survive is by sticking together.”

  Sarah turned and left Blondie’s body. She crawled along the floor toward the other suit while searching for Spencer. “There is no ‘we’ here, you delusional psychopath. It’s just you, and this sick obsession that you have with me.”

  “It’s called love, Sarah.” Spencer grunted. “That’s more than I can say for that shit husband of yours. You will learn in time that what we have is much stronger and deeper than anything else you’ve ever experienced.”

  This creep has lost his mind, Sarah thought, draping the side of her body over the last remaining suit sprawled out on the floor. “You need some serious help. Like a straitjacket and lobotomy.”

  Spencer grew silent. He offered no comeback nor made a single sound to allow Sarah to pinpoint his position.

  Her hand felt around the pockets of the suit’s pants. Sarah kept the pistol trained in the general direction she thought Spencer was. Her hand trembled, and her breathing was labored from the intensity of the situation.

  The pounding of her heart wouldn’t let up. Each second that passed felt like an eternity. Anxiety swarmed her, making it hard to focus.

  A sharp edge bumped against her fingers through the soft fabric of the suit’s slacks.

  Sarah forced her hand inside and fished out the keys.

  Footfalls stomped her way.

  She spotted Spencer out of the corner of her eye, charging. He closed in fast, offering little time for Sarah to react. She pulled the trigger.

  The pistol barked.

  Spencer knocked her arm away. The bullet went wide, punching the far wall. He pried the pistol from her hand, and tossed it away.

  Sarah rolled to her back and kicked him in the knee.

  “Ah.” The Creeper’s leg gave out. He stumbled and fell against the couch.

  Sarah crawled over the suit’s bloody corpse with the keys to their car squeezed in her hand. She struggled to get her legs under her. The Creeper stirring behind Sarah twisted her nerves a degree more. She lurched toward the open door and the freedom beyond the confines of the cabin.

  Spencer grabbed a handful of Sarah’s bouncing damp hair, and wrenched her head back.

  “Ah,” Sarah shouted from the stinging sensation in her scalp. Her body stopped on a dime.

  Sarah turned, ripping the strands of her hair from his hand. She slugged him in the side of the face with her balled fist.

  The blow knocked the Creeper back on the heels of his boots, but didn’t take him down. He shook his head, and gathered his wits as Sarah made for the door once more.

  A frightened pant fled her mouth. Sarah limped through the doorway and out onto the porch. She held her hand up, and thumbed the alarm on the Key FOB.

  The faint sound of the horn loomed in the air, but she couldn’t spot the vehicle. Sarah stepped off the porch. Pain lanced through her side. She palmed the wound.

  Spencer charged through the doorway and across the porch. He leapt from the edge, and tackled Sarah in the grass. His weight pinned her to the ground as she squirmed to get out from under him.

  “Get off me,” she yelled with the side of her head pressed to the ground.

  The Creeper bent down, and wrapped his fingers up in her hair. “You’re not going anywhere. Now or ever.”

  “No. Let me go now.” Sarah slapped at his arm to break the hold he had on her.

  He got off of her, but kept his fingers tangled in her hair. A grumble seeped from h
is lips. Spencer spun her around, and dragged her back to the cabin. “I need to gather up some supplies, and put you in a more docile state before we leave. As I’ve said, you will come around and stop this foolishness, one way or another.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  RUSSELL

  The sedan Rick stole couldn’t go fast enough, despite Clyde pushing the vehicle hard down the desolate two-lane road.

  “Can this hunk of junk go any faster?” Russell sighed, gnawing on the ends of his fingernails. His leg bounced up and down, foot tapping the floorboard. The map spread out in his lap shifted, and moved with the dancing limb. “It feels like we’re limping along here.”

  “We’re pushing eighty-five right now, and there’s a ton of blind curves.” Clyde pointed at the speedometer. “Unless you want us plowing into one of a billion trees or a random vehicle that pops up around one of those bends, then let me handle it, all right? I want to get there as quickly as you do, but I also don’t want to die in a horrible car wreck on the way.”

  “I know. I just want to get there is all.” Russell moved his hands away from his mouth. “I’m losing hope, and feel like I’m two steps back from ever reaching her.”

  Clyde pumped the brake, slowing the sedan down as they made the winding curve. A rattling noise sounded inside the vehicle. He shook his head while straightening out the steering wheel. “That does not sound promising.”

  “As long as it gets us there, it doesn’t matter.” Russell glanced down at the map. He pressed his finger to the thick, crumpled paper and traced the road they traveled on. “It should be coming up here. Look for a dirt road or something within the trees. It’ll be on your side of the road.”

  “Copy that.” Clyde stared at the gauges, then the steering wheel. The rattling noise continued and wouldn’t let up. He eased off the gas and skimmed over the solid wall of trees that lined the two-lane road. “You know, you need to try and calm your nerves some. You’re a bit unhinged at the moment.”