Vigilante Dead

by DV Berkom

  Arms flailing, Angie slammed against the wall with a grunt, but recovered and launched herself past me. I flipped onto my hands and knees, grabbed her leg, and yanked her backward. She fell face first onto the stairs but immediately raised herself onto her elbows. With a vicious kick, she freed her leg from my grasp and sprang up the stairs. As I started up the steps to go after her, something cold and hard pressed into my palm.

  Darwin’s knife. I glanced behind me. Luke had Angie’s coat. He’d found the dagger in her coat pocket and put it in my hand. I closed my fingers around the hilt.

  Angie was ready for me. As I neared her position at the top of the stairs, she pivoted and her hand crashed down on my wrist in an iron grip, numbing the nerve running from elbow to hand. I might have let go of the knife if I hadn’t expected the move. Angie had shown it to me in module six.

  She tried to wrest the weapon free, but I countered with my other hand, just the way she’d taught me, grabbing the knife as close to the hilt as I could, and wrenched it from her grasp. The sting of the cut and slickness of the blood on the inside of my palm barely registered. Without thinking, I thrust the knife at her, aiming for the waist. The first try glanced off her ribcage. She twisted her torso to get out of reach. I lunged forward, and the second try scored a softer target. I buried the blade as deep as it would go. Angie grunted in pain as she pummeled me, trying to loosen my grip in an attempt to pull it out. When it was obvious that wouldn’t work, she headbutted me and knocked me backward. I staggered down the stairwell before Amelia stopped my descent and pushed me back up the stairs.

  Moments later I burst through the open doorway and raced through the guest bedroom as Angie’s slender form disappeared down the hallway. The stench of gas was strong. We needed to get far away from the house or there wouldn’t be anything left to ID the bodies.

  “Everybody—run!” I yelled.

  The farther we got from the gas leak, the more likely it was that Angie would use her gun. I checked my pace and followed the intermittent blood spatters on the floor. Eve was waiting in the kitchen. Amelia and Luke were steps behind.

  “Did you see her?” I asked, breathless from running. The blood trail ended abruptly outside the kitchen.

  Eve shook her head. “No sign of her, and I was here the whole time.”

  I was about to say something when there was movement in my periphery. Angie stepped from the shadows in the living room, the gun in her hand. She pointed the weapon up and away from her, toward the hall ceiling.

  “Get down!” I screamed, and dropped to the floor. The gun discharged and the hall light exploded. Everything went dark as a loud whooshing noise swept through the house.

  And the world exploded.

  Thirty-Four

  I CAME TO slowly, the ringing in my ears the first indication I was still alive. Opening my eyes, I rolled to one side and almost coughed up a lung. Dust was thick in the air.

  Once I finished hacking, I took stock of my body parts, making sure everything was still intact. Aside from a sharp pain in my right side and confused, foggy thoughts, I was in one piece. I groped for the cool stone surface of the kitchen island and hoisted myself to my feet. The pain in my side lanced deeper and I froze, trying to catch my breath. Afraid to look at the wound, I leaned on the counter for a moment, trying to ignore the pain while I regrouped.

  The back half of the kitchen near the hallway had been demolished. There was a gaping hole where the Sub Zero refrigerator had been, revealing broken interior wall framing. The path of destruction created by the fridge’s trajectory ended at the far wall, where the huge metal box was now dented as though a giant stomped on it and kicked it out of the way. Liquid puddled on the floor below. The kitchen lights flickered, and here and there a few small fires crackled.

  I pivoted in place, scanning the hallway. My breath caught at the sight of a delicate wrist and loosely curled fingers poking out from a pile of debris.

  Forgetting my pain, I stumbled to the wreckage and started digging. Once I’d cleared away enough of the drywall and other broken pieces, I grabbed the wrist to check for a pulse.

  There was none.

  Someone groaned behind me and I whirled around.

  Covered in a fine white dust, Eve lay on the floor just past the kitchen. A gaping hole in the ceiling explained the pieces of drywall scattered around her. She appeared disoriented and tried to roll over onto her side to prop herself up. Relieved that she was alive, I realized that meant the body beneath the pile of rubble had to be Amelia. Shoving aside my feelings for the time being, I frantically searched the room for Angie, but didn’t see her. She’d been standing in front of the still intact fireplace at the time of the explosion.

  Which meant she probably survived the blast.

  Unable to help Amelia, I picked my way through the demolished kitchen toward Eve. Kneeling beside her, I helped her to a sitting position. She winced with the effort but otherwise seemed all right. Other than a few cuts on her face, there was no blood visible.

  “Are you okay?” My voice sounded muted to my own ears, and I had to yell so she could hear me. It was as though I was underwater listening to grains of sand rolling across the seabed with a backdrop of faint ringing.

  Eve nodded. “I think so.” I watched her lips to get the gist of what she said.

  “We need to go. Now.” When I tried to help her to her feet, a razor-sharp stitch flashed across my ribs, stealing my breath. With a frown of concern, Eve stood the rest of the way on her own. Unable to ignore it any longer, I opened my jacket and glanced at my side. Blood saturated the fabric of my pullover, staining the dark material darker. Wincing, I pulled the fabric free and looked. A dark gash sliced across my midriff. Blood oozed over the waistband of my jeans.

  Eve held up one finger, indicating I should wait, and picked her way back into the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later carrying a kitchen towel and a roll of duct tape. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I held the towel in place as she wrapped the duct tape tightly around my torso.

  The ringing in my ears had begun to lessen. With the towel firmly in place, I figured things were as good as they were going to get.

  “We need to find out what happened to Luke,” I said.

  “Over here.”

  Eve and I turned toward the raspy voice. From the dim glow of the patio lights, I could barely make out the hand waving from under a door that had been blown off its hinges farther down the hallway.

  We made our way over to him and heaved the door to one side. Eve joined me as I dug through the debris covering his legs, careful to avoid the shards of glass from paintings thrown to the floor in the blast.

  “Am I glad to see you guys.”

  We each took a side and hoisted him to a standing position. His leg buckled and he slumped toward the floor. Blood from my injury oozed through the towel from the strain of holding him up, but I ignored it.

  “I think my leg is broken.” Luke winced as he attempted to put weight on his right foot. He shook his head. “No way I can walk out of here under my own steam.”

  “We’ll help you,” I said. “We need to get moving. It won’t be long before somebody comes by the island to see what happened, and I’d like to be gone before then.”

  “What about my phone?” he asked. “Angie grabbed it before we went downstairs.”

  “But it’s a burner, right?” Eve had cautioned everyone to bring phones with no identifying information. “And you live-streamed the video to an account in the cloud?” Meaning the video bypassed the phone’s memory altogether.

  “Yeah, but the account information is still in memory. I didn’t have time to delete it.”

  “Do you still have your phone?” I asked Eve. “Couldn’t you transfer the video to another account and disable Luke’s?”

  She went through her coat pockets. “I put it away when we went to the underground room.” Relief flooded her face. “It’s here.” She squinted as she hit the on button. “It’s not working
. The screen is cracked. I must have fallen on it.”

  “Then you’ll have to do it as soon as we get back.” As long as we didn’t run into Angie on the way to the boat, we should be all right.

  The three of us staggered through the living room toward the front door like three-legged race participants. Eve was the only one who hadn’t been severely injured, although the explosion had done a number on her equilibrium. She was having a hard time walking in a straight line and had to continually self-correct.

  “You might want to have a doctor take a look at your inner ear,” I said. “A blast like that can screw things up.” Memories of surviving an explosion in the Yucatán jungle flashed through my mind. It had taken me days to get back to normal.

  Understanding flitted across her face. “That’s why it’s so hard to walk.”

  “And here I thought it was me.” Luke’s grimace looked like it was supposed to be a grin.

  “Well, there’s that, too.”

  Although my main concern was getting us to the boat quickly, I was worried about Angie finding her way off the island. The knife in her side could easily be a mortal wound. There was a good possibility she’d bleed out before long. Hopefully before she reached the cove. Even if she did make it back to the boat, she’d have a hard time finding her way to Seattle without running into some serious trouble. Navigating at night through the islands was difficult, even if you knew what you were doing. Out of the remaining crew, only Luke had the knowledge and skill to bring the Olympic Dream home safely.

  Angie still had the video of me at Chacon’s house, which didn’t give me the warm fuzzies. Sam was still in danger of being linked to my stupidity. I could, however, meet Angie’s attempt at blackmail with my own, as long as Eve gave me access to the recording of Dobson’s murder. It was also possible that Eve would be able to help me locate Angie’s files—she’d mentioned earlier that she’d hacked the cloud before, and that it wasn’t really that hard depending on the user’s tech savviness. Like Eve, Angie used an iPhone. I assumed that she automatically saved photos and video to the cloud, as well. If Eve was able to get into her files, I’d have to be sure she deleted all copies, and hope Angie hadn’t uploaded more.

  We continued out the door and around to the back of the structure, now a smoking, twisted wreck. The cold, damp air seeped through the open collar of my jacket, and I shivered. I zipped up the rest of the way and tugged on my hood.

  Most of the windows had blown out from the back of the house. Gleaming shards of glass littered the grounds. The eeriness of the landscape added to my anxiety, and I stepped up our pace.

  Twenty-five minutes later, we reached the spot where we’d left Kitten. Using my flashlight, I was the first to spot her. She was propped against a tree, staring sightlessly into the darkness, a gaping wound across her throat. A dark stain covered the front of her jacket where the blood had streamed from the gash. Her computer lay in pieces around her. We stood for a moment, taking in the grisly sight.

  “Angie.” A chill slid down my back at the grim proof of her survival.

  “Kitten deserved better.” Eve’s words came out dry and brittle. With a quiet sniff, she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket and took a deep breath. Tears glistened in her eyes, illuminated by the dusky blue moonlight. “Wait here.” She left Luke and me standing in the darkness as she walked to her friend and gently closed her eyes. Then she started sifting through the pieces of Kitten’s laptop.

  “We don’t have a lot of time, Eve. Once the police figure out what happened here, we won’t be able to leave the island without being seen.”

  “She got the SD card, but not this.” She rejoined us, holding up the laptop’s hard drive, which she slipped into her coat pocket. “At least it’s something.”

  We resumed our trek to the cove where we’d left the inflatable, vigilant for signs of the wounded assassin.

  It took us over two hours to retrace our steps through the narrow canyon and back to the cove. Luke had picked up a fallen tree branch to use as a crude crutch, which came in handy during our climb down the rocky face. I tied our jackets together to form a makeshift sling, which Eve and I used to lower Luke down the steepest sections of the cliff.

  The inflatable was where we’d left it. The beach had doubled in size from the outgoing tide, and pushing the boat back into the water would take some effort. Thankfully, it wasn't as heavy as one made of wood or fiberglass. There was no sign of Angie, and I began to relax. I didn’t think she’d be able to make the climb down to the beach with the depth of the knife wound she had. I’d been careful with my own injury when navigating the rocks, and the pain still took my breath away.

  Although exhausted from the hike and our descent to the beach, we put our backs into pushing the boat over the sand and rocks toward the water. Luke helped as much as he could, hopping on one foot and leaning his weight against the bow. When the stern hit water, the three of us stopped to rest, breathing hard from the effort.

  I reached inside the boat and grabbed three hermetically sealed packets of survival water from the bow locker. I gave one to Eve and handed the other to Luke. A voice in the darkness stopped me cold.

  “Did you forget about moi?”

  The breath caught in my throat at the sound of Angie’s southern twang. I slowly turned around. Illuminated in a beam of ghostly moonlight, the assassin stood behind me, gun in one hand, the other clutching her side. She’d lost some of her ever-present bravado—stooped over and in obvious pain, the weapon trembled in her hand. Luke looked ready to charge, broken leg or not, but I shook my head and he stood down. Eve remained motionless. I knew from experience that if I moved now, Angie would track me with her gun like a hunter tracking prey.

  Or, shoot me on the spot. This time there was no possibility of an explosion to stop her from discharging her gun.

  “Look, Angie,” I said, my tone conversational through sheer force of will. “There’s no reason to kill any of us. You’ve got me by the shorthairs with that video you took of Chacon, and the two phones we were using to record Dobson were destroyed in the explosion.” I hoped she didn’t know Eve and Luke had live-streamed the confession. “And, you disabled Kitten’s laptop and took the memory card, so there’s nothing tying you to the shitstorm back at Dobson’s house.” A sharp flame of anger flared at the thought of Kitten’s lifeless body propped against a tree.

  Don’t let her know you’re angry, Kate. You need to stay calm.

  “True. But think of the satisfaction I’ll have when I finally complete the contract originally taken out on you.” She winced as she closed the distance between us, gun aimed at the center of my chest. “I’ll be back on top, baby.”

  She was going to shoot me, and probably Eve. I had to keep her talking. My mind raced through the moves I’d learned from both Sam and Angie, finally settling on one. It was a long shot.

  Could I pull it off?

  “I thought you said it didn’t matter, now that there was no money involved.”

  A thin smile stretched her lips. “I lied.”

  With those last two words I raised the Maglite and shined it in her eyes. At the same time I hurled my packet of water into her face and stepped forward, slapping the gun barrel away with as much force as I could. The .45 discharged with a bang before it flew from her grip and landed in the water with a splash. Her slowed reactions were likely a side effect of losing so much blood and gave me an advantage I otherwise wouldn’t have had. Without giving her time to react, I lowered my head and charged. I caught her at the waist and shoved her to the ground, landing on top of her. We both grunted in pain.

  And then it was like someone flipped a switch—she was all nails and teeth and flailing arms, seemingly oblivious to the pain that had stopped her only two seconds before. I did my best to fight back, but she soon had the edge and the next thing I knew she was on top of me with her hands at my throat. I bucked and thrashed, but she held me in an iron grip. My vision tunneled. I opened my mouth, despe
rate for air. Someone yelled. Angie’s head snapped back, and the vice-grip around my throat loosened.

  Gasping, I rolled onto an elbow and raised my head. Eve was clinging to Angie’s back, her hands wound tight around the assassin’s neck as Angie whirled in place, attempting to throw Eve off.

  I climbed to my feet with a grunt of pain and staggered toward them.

  “Kate!” Luke called. I turned as he heaved the branch he’d been using as a crutch toward me. It landed on the ground less than a foot away. Lightheaded, I took a deep breath and bent over to retrieve it, ignoring the black spots sparking in my periphery. I hefted the pseudo crutch in my hands, turned toward the whirling dervishes, and took a batter’s stance. With Angie and Eve’s backs to me, I had no target except Angie’s legs. I was about to swing for the back of her knees when Angie pivoted.

  With the assassin gripped in a headlock, Eve glanced over Angie’s shoulder at me. Her gaze zeroed in on the branch and a look of understanding lit her eyes. She let go and stumbled back. Angie leaned over and clawed at her throat, gasping for air. Powered by fear and rage and the pent-up emotions of the past few weeks, I swung for all I was worth. A splintering, cracking, sickening thud fractured the air as the heavy wood connected with Angie’s temple. Her head snapped sideways, body paused for a millisecond in midair, and dropped like a stone.

  Breathing hard, I staggered toward Eve.

  “Cover me,” I rasped, and handed her the branch.

  I made my way back to Angie and bent over to check for a pulse.

  “Nothing.” I straightened and took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in my side.

  Eve stared at the blood on my hand and blinked.