Heaven's Prisoners

by Matthew Angelo

  I entered the kitchen. A small television sat powered on next to the microwave. Static flashed on the screen and through the speakers. Like all the other rooms, cameras were everywhere. The same uneasiness I had earlier swarmed over me again. I passed the television.

  “Mr. MacCaren, time is short for poor Jacob.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned my head. A shadowy figure graced my presence on the TV. “No shit. Where is he?”

  The figure shifted a little on the screen. “You don’t need me to tell you that. Just come downstairs.”

  “He better be alive.”

  “Move faster, and he’ll survive. Goodbye, for now, Mr. MacCaren. We’ll meet again.”

  “Fucker.”

  He didn’t hear me as the TV cut off. I walked around the kitchen and found the pantry door. Canned goods lined the shelved. A few people could fit in this pantry. A few people... Like a lightbulb coming on, it hit me. I stepped inside on the carpeted pantry floor.

  “Funny, someone carpeted the pantry, but not the kitchen.”

  I exited the pantry and pulled at the carpet. It came up easily, and someone had built a door into the floor. Well, what do we have here? A small depression showed someone added this after the house the original owners built it. I’m not handy at all and didn’t know if the Contractor was, but it’s possible he hired a business to do it for him. I gripped the latch and pulled as the sound of Axle busting through the front door echoed throughout the house. Fuck.

  “Rian, where are you?”

  The door opened to a staircase leading down. Why wouldn’t it, right? It lit up, probably by my movement. I took a step down. Ignoring Axle, I walked down the narrow, concrete steps. Cold, stale air hit me. The hum of electronic equipment greeted me as I stepped on the landing. The room wasn’t large, but the floor was dirty and looked like someone had dug here recently.

  An air compressor stood to the side with a hose reaching from it into the dirt. Another cable also poked out of the dirt and ran to a console against the wall. The computer was on and showed Jacob in the coffin.

  “Rian, are you down here?”

  “Only if you bring a shovel.”

  Axle’s voice boomed down the stairs. “One of the patrol cars has one. Is Jacob alright?”

  I drew my knife and dug. “Possibly, but it’s too early to tell. I think he’s still alive, but the therapy bill after this is gonna cost a fortune.”

  The dry dirt was cold but loose. Tossing the knife aside, I scooped frantically at the dirt. It all moved easily, and Axle came trotting down the stairs as my hands scraped across the wood.

  I knocked on it and heard pounding sounds from behind it. “Jacob, can you hear me? We’re getting you out!”

  More beating on the other side responded to my voice. Thank God, he’s still alive! Axle helped removed the rest of the dirt and revealed the whole coffin. The contractor nailed the lid shut, and I grabbed the shovel from Axle and used it to pry the lid open. After a few hits and pushing down on the handle, the nails gave way, and the coffin lid swung open.

  Jacob gasped for air and shielded his eyes from the light. I reached down and pulled him out, holding him tightly. “Axle, get the paramedics here and call his family.”

  Axle nodded. “Family is already here. Someone called them already and said you rescued their son.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

  Jacob’s cries broke my heart. Dirt and a day’s worth of filth clung to him, but it didn’t matter. He was safe. His cries became silent sobs as his body shook with relief and fear from what happened.

  I stood up and dragged him to his feet with me. “Let’s go. Your family is here and misses you. Can you make it up the stairs?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  His voice cracked, and his one word came out as a harsh, dry whisper. I grabbed his arm and moved it around my neck and shoulder. Slowly we made it to the stairs, and each painfully slow step brought us closer to the top.

  Once there, paramedics reached for Jacob and pulled him from me onto a stretcher. I came along with him as Jacob’s grip on my arm was strong. He didn’t want to let go. His frantic stare bore into me as he lay on the stretcher.

  “Don’t leave me.”

  Dammit. I’m getting too soft for this line of work. I exited the pantry where Axle waited with a few other cops I recognized from the PMS. “I’ll walk you to the ambulance. After that, you’ll be fine. Your family is waiting for you.”

  The paramedics rolled him out where Jacob’s parents rushed over to meet him, and I walked alongside as Jacob wouldn’t let go of my arm. He let go when he saw his parents who gave me the chance to step back out of the way. I don’t do mushy stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about reunions, as long as I don’t have to hug anyone.

  Mr. Grayson came over and shook my hand. “Thank you, Rian, for bringing us our son back. I can’t thank you enough.”

  He came in for a hug, and I stepped back. Like I said, I don’t hug. He got the point quick. “It’s what I do Mr. Grayson. I’m glad I found him in time. It’s been a rough day for all of us. I’d return your phone, but Detective Erickson took it as evidence.”

  He laughed it off and glanced back at his son. “We can replace a phone, not my son. Thank you again, Rian.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He dashed back to the ambulance and helped his wife in. I sat in the yard and scanned the crowd. At least this ain’t a media circus, right now. Anything was better than that. I firmly believed in a free press, but they got annoying as fuck at times when it came to the other side.

  My wrists burned a little, and I looked down to see redness around the sigils on my arms. The crowd was dispersing as the ambulance drove away and no one stood out. Everything seemed normal, but I didn’t know why my sigils burned. They only did that as a warning or when danger was near.

  The center of my upper back burned as well and the scent of something burning drifted by me. The pain amplified, and I crouched over and winced. What the fuck is going on? I glanced up to see Axle running toward me and my vision blurred.

  The cold air around me smelled of dirt and pine. Coughing, I tried to move and realized I was in a box — a wooden one. I couldn’t reach up as a piece of wood blocked my arm. I’d guess it stood a few inches from my face. Moving my hands around, I found the wood panel underneath me had some dirt on it, and the one above me wasn’t a complete panel, but a few slats close together.

  Someone buried me in a pine coffin. If terror didn’t control me, I’d find some irony in the situation. I beat at the lid hoping to break free, but it resisted my blows. I couldn’t get enough of a swing to make an impact. Dirt fell through the cracks between the slats hitting my face.

  The contractor said I’d be next and that I’d pay for calling the cops. This is how it ends? No, I refuse to believe it. Someone help me! Please, help me!

  “Rian! Rian, snap out of it!”

  A familiar voice broke through the vision, and strong hands shook me. My eyes focused on Axle and worry creased his face. I blinked a few times and gasped for air, my heart racing in fear.

  “Fuck, that’s never happened before.”

  Axle stopped shaking me but didn’t let go. “What do you mean? I’ve seen you get like this before.”

  I sat up and turned toward him. “Not like this. Other times it was of things that already happened or at the moment they happened, like my visions of Jacob. This...”

  I rubbed at my wrists now staring at them. “No longer burning.”

  “What’s no longer burning?”

  I gave Axle a confused look. Remember Rian; he doesn’t know everything about you! “Nothing. Um, the vision was of something that hasn’t happened yet. Like precognition in a way.”

  “What did you see?”

  I tried to get up and got dizzy and decided best to stay seated. “I saw what the contractor promised. He said if I called the cops, I’d be next.”

  Axle stood up
and helped me up after. “I have a forensics team checking the house. Gregory volunteered to check the cameras and the computer to see if they led anywhere. We’ll find Sean James and bring him to justice.”

  “It’s more than that Axle. He’s more dangerous than you realize. Remember when the guy I went after who targeted Raiza’s girls months back?”

  “Yeah.”

  I turned toward the house and looked at it. It seemed different. “Sean James is like him.”

  “Shit, Rian, are you kidding me?”

  “Wish I was, Axle.”

  “Rian, I’ll have some of my men watch your apartment, and you have a hole in your shirt, upper back part. It looks like something burned that part off.”

  I reached back and found the large hole in my shirt. “Shit, how’d that happen?”

  The burning sensation I had earlier in my back did it. Not sure how or what it meant, but lately, I felt a change coming. Not just physical, the spiritual as well. Something was happening to me, and while I didn’t fear it, it made me apprehensive. When I fought off Markus and his sister, they mentioned I hadn’t come into my power yet. I didn’t know what it meant, but I had a clue.

  My mixed bloodline decided to exert itself more. Maybe I would finally come into my power, or at least the one I had would manifest itself stronger than usual. It still didn’t explain why my back burned at times. The sigils on my wrists hurt more than usual. Like my father, I was a mystery to myself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Told you I’d be back, Jez!”

  She leaped on me as I walked through the door and licked my face so much I needed a towel. I finally had to push her off. She settled down and sat in the middle of the floor staring at me waiting patiently for attention.

  I tossed her a doggie treat and watched her gobble it up greedily. Jezebel was a great dog, and I hoped at some point to take her on cases with me. I wasn’t sure on how to train her to sniff out the paranormal, but if I could, Axle and the PMS could use a few dogs like her.

  A patrol car from Axle’s department sat on the side of the street outside my apartment. I wanted to tell him it wouldn’t help if the contractor came after me, but I knew he wouldn’t listen. Axle took his job seriously, and if he thought I’d be in trouble, then he’d see to it I got help.

  I locked my door and headed to the bathroom, shedding my shirt. Jezebel followed behind not wanting to leave my side since I finally made it home. My power burnt a hole in the back of it, and the edges looked like my shirt had caught on fire. It seems I’m going through changes, but I had no idea what this meant.

  The edge of the tub made a good seat, and I cranked the water on. Warm water poured out and, I pulled the tab to start the shower. Jezebel sat next to me, her head in my lap, tail wagging.

  I ruffled her fur and stood up, wincing in pain and at the sight of my reflection. “Damn, I look like shit. What do you think, Jez?”

  She barked happily and jumped to put her front paws on the counter. I rubbed my scruffy face and saw a giant bruise on my right side from the fight with the mountain troll. It hurt at my touch and Jezebel sniffed it before licking my side. A kiss to make it better?

  Unholstering my gun, I set it on the back of the toilet in case I needed it. I didn’t feel that paranoid, but in my line of work, there’s always someone out to get me. My pants came off after a few minutes of struggle as I grunted through the aches and pains of the last twenty-four hours. Socks and underwear came off next before I stepped into the hot shower.

  “That feels so good.”

  The water poured over me. I stood underneath the showerhead for a few minutes with my eyes closed. My skin flushed with warmth as water danced over my body. Where I had bruises, it stung, but not enough to make me get out of the shower.

  It made me feel alive and clean. A refreshing energy rushed through me as the water and steam penetrated my being. I reached for the shampoo and poured it onto my hair. With slow precision, I worked it in, massaging my scalp and letting it rinse off. I needed this shower so bad. I may have to burn the clothes I wore last night.

  Body wash came next, and I only cringed a few times as I dragged the loufa over my body. On the plus side, my six-pack looked great if only bruised on one side and a scar on the other. Scars are hot right? If so, then I’m the hottest guy in the city. I rinsed and turned the shower off.

  Pulling back the curtain, I dried off as Jezebel dozed right next to the tub. Stepping over a dog from a wet shower is always safe! After towel drying my hair, I checked my reflection in the mirror in a vain hope of improvement.

  While I was no longer dirty and didn’t smell like a troll with an STD, my appearance was still rough. The bags under my eyes said sleep and the puffiness over my eyes said ice. My thirst said a shot of whiskey while watching TV on the couch. Bachelor life!

  Walking past the living room with just the towel wrapped around my waist, I pointed at the couch. “Jezebel, get on the couch.”

  She barked and jumped up on the sofa and lay down, her tail wagging as she waited for me. I poured the whiskey and sat next to my best friend. She scooted up close and rested her head on my lap. I ran my hand through her fur and took a sip of the whiskey.

  I let my thoughts trail off. The past day troubled me. Between the cryptic meeting with the Fallen and the contractor who offered no leads but a fingerprint, I was at a loss on what to do. He said we’d meet again, and I had no doubt we would. The other side was great at follow up.

  Jezebel groaned as she stretched out onto my lap and dozed off a little. Too many things could go wrong now. Would the contractor hit me up soon or later? He would have to realize I waited for him. Maybe he’d surprise me. My phone rang making me jump and Jezebel bark in annoyance.

  The caller ID on the phone said, Axle Erickson. I tabbed with my thumb answering it. “Good news or bad news?”

  A small snicker greeted me. “Neither. I’m calling to make sure you’re doing okay.”

  “Yeah. Sore and tired as fuck. Dog’s glad I’m home. Find anything from the house.”

  “Not a whole lot. The place is clean, almost too clean. Not one fingerprint. I got someone tracing the camera’s manufacturer. I’m hoping a sales receipt or something will give us some information.”

  “What about the video feed from the house? The contractor saw everything; he even spoke to me through the television.”

  “So far, nothing. Gregory is working on it since the feed is still live. Part of me hopes the bastard left it on and forgot about it and another part of me has a twisted gut over it.”

  I shifted on my couch. “Like a trap?”

  A sigh was my response. “Yeah. I don’t think this over yet. My gut instinct tells me you’re in trouble.”

  “I am. There’s no doubting that. He made it quite clear I’d be next, and we’d meet again soon. Until a clue presents itself, we’ll have to wait it out.”

  “You mean, using yourself as bait?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way.”

  “Then how would you put it.”

  “I see it as putting myself in a strategic position to capture the bad guy.”

  “Dammit, Rian, don’t be a smartass!”

  “It’s in my nature, Axle. If I didn’t have sarcasm, I’d drink more, and we both know that’s not good at all.”

  “At least I have a car outside your place. Once I’m out of the office, I’ll come by, just in case.”

  “You need sleep as much as I do. I’ll be fine, and I don’t think he’ll come after me tonight. It’s too soon. He had the cameras watching me for a reason.”

  “What’s that?”

  “To study me. He needed to know how I reacted to everything. What better way to know your enemy than to watch their every move.”

  “Valid point, even if a bit creepy.”

  “Hey, hold on a sec.”

  “Okay, anything wrong?”

  “Nope, I need to check on something. All this talk of cameras and him watching me
got me a little paranoid.”

  The thought of someone watching me sent a shiver through my body. I got up and looked around my place. After a few minutes of searching, I found nothing and put the phone on speaker.

  I grabbed some underwear and slid them on. “Sorry, Axle, I checked my place for cameras.”

  “Find anything?”

  “Nope. Even the bad guys know nothing happens at my place.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Axle was shaking his head. I may not be a party animal, or pretty much anything else, but I liked the quiet and lack of people in my life. Humans did bad shit, and I fought enough monsters in my life and didn’t want to add shitty people to it. Why go out for a drink with friends when you can drink alone at home? I think that’s a sign of addiction...

  “I’m still going to come by after I finish my paperwork.”

  “Okay, but it won’t do any good; I’ll be sleeping.”

  “Then I’ll tuck you in and lock up as I leave.”

  His words made me blush. Awkward. “No need. Jezebel bites now.”

  “She’s harmless. When I met her, she rolled over for a belly rub. She didn’t even sniff my hand.”

  “Hey now, she can be protective, I hope. Maybe after a lot of training.”

  “A lot is right. Get some sleep, Rian, and I’ll call before I come over. I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll speak to you later.”

  “Bye.”

  I ended the call and put the phone down. I stood up from my bed and felt a little dizzy. Looking over, Jezebel was fast asleep. She groaned at the movement falling back asleep. She jerked a bit as if dreaming. Must be chasing rabbits. I grabbed my phone and walked toward the bathroom. Must be more tired than I thought. I grabbed my gun and headed toward the living room.

  Leaning against the couch, my head swam, and vertigo threatened my balance. “Fuck me, this ain’t good. He told me I’d be next.”