The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin)

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The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin) Page 62

by Carolyn McCray


  Janey twisted in Darc’s arms, pointing at something off to their right even as Darc spotted the same anomaly. A ladder, resting against the side of the wall, extending up to the roof of the square storage units.

  There.

  Without missing a stride, Darc turned and rushed toward the ladder, depositing Janey on the ground as he ran. She darted ahead, already anticipating his next move. Placing her feet on the bottom rung of the ladder, Janey clambered up as fast as it was possible for a child her age to move.

  But even taking into account the speed with which she was moving, the rays of color spoke to Darc, feeding him data. Janey’s ascent wasn’t fast enough.

  The dogs would catch up before Darc could climb up after Janey. At least, if there was any hope of her reaching the roof unharmed.

  The numbers did not lie. They could not. Turning around, Darc faced the angry, snarling horde.

  This time there would be no escape.

  * * *

  Mala rushed down the stairs, pausing every once in a while to make sure that the echoes of her descent were truly echoes and not pursuit. But the raised hairs on the back of her neck spoke of danger, even though there seemed to be no footsteps behind her.

  This was the third attempt on Mala’s life. Whoever had attacked her wasn’t about to stop just because they’d gotten a needle stuck in them.

  Unless Mala had managed to do more damage than she’d thought. The fact that the thought was a nice one made her question her own taking of the Hippocratic Oath.

  But did that promise still apply when the person in question was doing their damnedest to make sure you no longer walked amongst the living? She shook her head and plunged further down the stairwell.

  Taking the stairs had been a bit of a necessity. First, she wasn’t sure the elevators would be working. But even if they had been, standing out in the open, waiting for the bell to ring, didn’t seem like such a great idea when you were running away from a killer.

  Pausing by one of the exits onto another floor, Mala was relieved to find that the lights were on. That meant that she could step back out into a place with illumination and people once more. Maybe even talk to someone about what had happened.

  But there was no way to know for certain if the person she spoke with might be working with the Master. How much trust could she put in anyone right now?

  How she longed to have Darc and Trey by her side. Janey. Carly. Even Maggie.

  The thought of Maggie and her baby gave Mala pause. Were they safe? Would the Master target them for possible leverage?

  It was a possibility, but not one that Mala could afford to do anything about. She turned to the door, reaching out to pull the handle.

  The door didn’t budge.

  It was locked from the other side. Mala was trapped inside the stairwell.

  And what was worse… there were footsteps coming from up above.

  * * *

  Janey peered down below at the dogs gathering around Darc. She knew that Darc had wanted her to get up to the roof, and that he wouldn’t stop until she did it. But now here she was, watching as her favorite detective was about to be ripped apart by animals.

  Popeye said something about her being species-ist, and that the dogs were just misunderstood. Janey almost decided to throw him over the edge of the roof to see how he liked it down there. Then he could tell her how misunderstood they were.

  But right at that moment, Darc tipped the ladder over, its metal sides clanging against the concrete. Darc had trapped Janey up on the roof. He cast one look up at her, and Janey could see something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Ever.

  Darc looked like he was afraid.

  That couldn’t be right, could it?

  Darc managed to keep the dogs off himself by kicking out at them every time they lunged, but that couldn’t last long. The pack surged around behind him, and the bald detective was getting attacked on every side.

  Even as she watched, Janey saw one of the animals latch onto Darc’s arm. He struck at the dog’s jaw with a fist, but the beast wouldn’t let go. He lashed out with his feet and his other hand, his movements more and more uncontrolled.

  Brushing at her face with a hand, Janey was surprised that it came away wet. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Tears of frustration and helplessness.

  Janey couldn’t sit there and watch as the pack took Darc apart. He had saved her so many times before, and she wasn’t about to sit back and just accept this. But what could she do? She was up on a roof with no way to get down.

  With no other options in front of her, Janey started thinking about just jumping down into the wild pack. It wasn’t that far down, and maybe she could take out a couple of the dogs nearest Darc. He would be mad at her, of course, but that didn’t really matter.

  They would both be dead in a few seconds anyway. And then maybe Janey could see her Mommy and Daddy again. And introduce them to Darc.

  That would be good. That would be really good.

  Popeye was screaming something about being too fluffy to die, as Janey flexed her legs muscles, preparing to leap down at the animals below. Just then, something crazy happened. Something Janey would have thought was impossible.

  All the dogs stopped barking, lifting their heads as one. Then they turned away and rushed off, back down the alleyway in the direction from which they’d come.

  Janey hadn’t heard a thing, but it seemed like someone had just called them off.

  But who in the world would have control over those animals? Whoever it might be, they had to be responsible for the attack in the first place. Someone who wanted Darc and Trey dead.

  So then, why on earth would they call the dogs off?

  * * *

  Mala pressed herself back against the wall, searching for a way out. But none appeared. There was the stairwell leading down, but in order to reach it, Mala would have to place herself right in her pursuer’s sight line.

  Instead, she moved as silently as she could to the space underneath the stairs. There was a recess there that, while it wasn’t perfect, might hide her from a cursory glance, if the attacker wasn’t paying too much attention.

  Yeah, right.

  But it felt like her only viable choice at the moment. So, rather than surrender to capture, Mala did what she could to survive a few more seconds.

  The footsteps came closer and closer, as Mala shoved herself into the recess as far as she could go. Her stitches pulled, the pain excruciating. Now she wished she had taken the morphine when it had been offered earlier.

  The sounds were steady and deliberate. No attempt at concealment. Her assailant didn’t seem to care that she knew he was coming.

  He?

  Was it really a he? The incidents that had led up to Mala’s departure played out in her mind. Carly had disappeared right before the attack. There was the morphine, the syringe, Carly’s odd behavior.

  But no. Carly didn’t have the kind of strength or stamina needed to carry out an attack like this. Did she?

  When Mala had grappled with her assailant, the power present in that person’s body seemed to indicate a man. But strength wasn’t an attribute relegated solely to men. Not by a long shot.

  And then, the figure turned the corner, and Mala caught a glimpse. And as she saw, the tension bled out of her body.

  It was a female nurse. The scrubs-clad figure moved toward the door, pressing an ID badge to a touch pad on the side of the frame. A pad that Mala, in her rush, hadn’t really taken the time to notice.

  This was a stairwell that must be for staff use only.

  As the form of the nurse disappeared through the doorway, Mala pushed herself upright, feeling something give in her chest. That wasn’t good.

  But there wasn’t time to wallow. She darted toward the door, catching it just before it latched closed.

  She had made it out of her room, through the hallway and down the stairs. Now, it was time to get the hell out of this building.

  Then maybe she�
��d be able to find out where her almost-husband and adoptive daughter were.

  * * *

  The Servant fumed.

  Never before had there been any temptation to question the Master. But this? This was insanity. Or even worse.

  Stupidity.

  The detectives had been cornered, ready to be taken apart by animals that had been conditioned for years to kill. Honed for this very moment, taken to a fever pitch of ferocity by a deadly cocktail of drugs, a combination that would likely kill them. And then unleashed at the precise moment that would cause the maximum amount of chaos.

  And at the last moment, the Master had forced the Servant to call them back.

  No explanation. No breath of apology for a perfect plan destroyed. Just a command to end it.

  For the first time, the Servant questioned the role that had been assigned. This had to be a mistake. Yet, with all that had been done for the Master, there could be no turning back at this point.

  One blast on the dog whistle, and the detectives had walked free. Damaged, yes. Destroyed? Not even close. And now their determination would be tenfold.

  There had been one thing the Master had shared. One piece of information.

  Mala had escaped. A proclamation that had caused a shock of fear to spiral down the Servant’s spine. That had been a task entrusted to another, but the failure reflected back on the Servant as well.

  Perhaps that was the Master’s thinking. That in destroying Darc, Mala would become that much more obsessive? It was a possibility, but Mala couldn’t be that much of a threat right now, could she?

  The woman was mere hours post-op, with unhealed stitches and probably still pumped full of drugs. It couldn’t be that difficult to take care of her, especially now that she was out of the watchful eye of the Seattle PD.

  Now was clearly the time to strike, but that was not the command the Servant had received. Stand down, observe carefully, take no further action until you receive word.

  The Servant trusted the Master fully. But right now that trust felt frangible… a delicate crystal glass on the verge of breaking.

  And all the Servant wanted to do right now was pull that string.

  CHAPTER 10

  Daylight seeped into the sky… a fungus that grew by increments, taking over its dark host. The black ties inside of Darc stirred, restless with the encroaching dawn. Their time for strength was past, but the need for their enhancements had not yet ended.

  He was not dead.

  That should have been the outcome earlier that morning. Darc should have been overcome by the pack, succumbing to the ravages of those chemically enhanced beasts.

  The only thing that had kept him alive was sheer chance.

  Darc had failed.

  Staring down at the bodies sprawled throughout the storage unit, he processed the information that flowed in. The unit had been discovered as the canine units had arrived. Looking around the small area, it was hard to take in the amount of violence that had taken place within these walls.

  The bodies appeared to have been mauled by animals, but upon closer examination, none of the deaths were caused by the dogs. Every single one of these individuals had been strangled, judging by the petechial hemorrhaging found.

  These men had been killed by human beings.

  And Darc had not missed the close gaze that his partner had turned on several of the victims. The mangling had been severe, but the crease on Trey’s brow spoke to some degree of concern. Or perhaps recognition?

  Janey lay asleep in a cot that Darc had requisitioned from the EMTs that had arrived on the scene a few minutes after the dogs had been called off. Her face seemed almost blank in repose, her mouth open as she breathed in and out in a steady rhythm.

  Cat and her boyfriend had addressed Darc about an hour ago, stating the need to get Jessalyn into bed. Darc had not responded, and eventually the two had left.

  Finding Janey at the scene had caused an unusual reaction in Darc. From the moment the girl arrived, he had been fighting bursts of silver that threatened the stability of the underlying system now in place.

  His rage, his fear… they now helped him. Never before had he found this kind of sustaining focus to his neural network. The threads of color remained buoyed up by the dark fire of his need to protect Mala and Janey.

  That those around him appeared uncomfortable with the change was not a bad exchange. It simply meant that they interrupted him less than normal.

  Trey stood by his side, peering up at the symbols that had been painted on the walls of the storage unit. One more evidence of the human source of the violence.

  “What’s it all mean?” Darc’s partner muttered.

  The question was not a simple one to answer. The symbols indicated many things at once, and even Darc’s inner network struggled to sort it all out.

  But at its core, there was an answer, even if it wasn’t complete.

  “This was the fourth biblical plague of Egypt.” Darc glanced at one of the symbols, the Hittite numeral four.

  But something appeared off in regards to the numbering. While so far, everything had followed the account made of the Israelites exodus, a blank space had appeared amongst the glowing symbols.

  What could it mean?

  “Hold on,” Trey said, his words coming in a parallel stream to the other information flowing into Darc’s mind. “Wasn’t the fourth plague flies?”

  “No, that was a mistranslation of the Hebrew word arob.” Darc moved closer to the walls, seeking clarification of a particular symbol that was obscured by the play of shadows around the room.

  “See? How do you know that?” Trey complained, a whine present in his tone. “I went to Catholic school, for crying out loud.”

  “That would not be a good resource for the learning of Hebrew,” Darc replied.

  At that moment, Darc’s phone vibrated. He pulled out the cell, glancing at the number. The call was coming in from Captain Merle’s office.

  He should not be there. Not this early in the morning.

  Something was wrong.

  “Yes,” Darc said as he pressed to accept the call.

  “Dammit, Darc, how many times have I told you to answer…?” Merle cut himself off. “You know what, never mind.” There was a deep breath, then, “There’s no easy way to tell you this.”

  “Yes, there is. State it.”

  Another deep breath. “Right. Well, Mala’s gone missing.”

  Darc felt his entire network freeze. Nothing moved for a moment as that information refused to integrate with all that he already knew of this case. That could not be true. The guards were ones hand selected by Darc.

  But then, as he glanced around the room, features which before had been obscured by the mauling of the dogs began to assert themselves. A prominent nose there, a distinct jawline here.

  These victims were all of the guards who had been placed to protect Mala.

  * * *

  The cold, damp Seattle wind tore at Mala’s body. She huddled into an alcove between buildings, seeking to stay out of the biting weather. Or at least to avoid the full brunt of it.

  No money, no cell phone, no real way to get a hold of anyone. Mala couldn’t have screwed herself more if she’d tried.

  What was worse, she’d started to bleed.

  At least the night seemed to be coming to an end. The brightening that had begun invading the sky had brought with it a renewed sense of purpose.

  Her first instinct had been to accost a random stranger and ask to use their cell phone. But two things were stopping her.

  First, she had all of her important numbers stored in her phone, none in her mind. What she wouldn’t give for Darc’s eidetic memory right now.

  She could call the precinct, but right now there was no guarantee she would reach someone friendly. The fact that the guards stationed around her room had disappeared gave her no assurance that the police force hadn’t been compromised.

  And there had been something about those
two… Laurel and Hardy… that made her skin crawl. The Chief of Ds and the Commissioner both. They couldn’t be a part of this, could they?

  But without that certainty, Mala didn’t want to risk it.

  What could she do? Reaching into the pockets of her stolen clothing, Mala found a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. Okay, so she had enough to take public transportation somewhere. Possibly buy some cheap breakfast.

  To be honest, all she wanted to do right now was curl up in a ball and give in to the feeling of exhaustion that permeated her entire body. It would take so little effort.

  But her need to reconnect with Janey, Darc and Carly sustained her. There was no way she could give up while the question of their safety hung unanswered.

  Cat.

  Mala could make her way to Cat’s house. Her friend would have to show up at some point, right? She might even be there right now.

  All it would take was getting to a bus stop, finding the correct route, and not falling into a coma while she waited for the vehicle to arrive. She glanced down at her blouse. There was a small spot of blood there, but it wasn’t too noticeable. Mala crossed her arms over her breast, the movement tugging at her incision. It hurt so much, but it also obscured her wound.

  Time to find someone she trusted. Then she would find her family.

  No problem.

  * * *

  Maggie’s voice surged through the phone, her words drilling into Trey’s head with the force of a pneumatic drill. Man, she could be loud when she wanted to be.

  “Where the hell are you?”

  Trey had to admit, he was impressed that her language was as clean as it was. This situation had to rate the s-word. Even an f-bomb or two wouldn’t be out of order at this point. Being a mother must be softening her.

  “Babe, I’m sorry,” he explained. “We’re working the case. It’s the only way to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Safe? Why wouldn’t I be safe?”

  Right. Maggie didn’t know everything that had happened since they’d arrived at the hospital. And Trey wasn’t so sure that he wanted her to know.

  But he did want her safe.

  “Look, I just want you to be on the lookout, okay? Be careful.”

 

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