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Slaughter Series

Page 26

by A. I. Nasser


  “Funny,” Michael replied, arms crossed as he glared at her, his eyes sunken and bloodshot. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days. “And why the hell do you think I’d do that?”

  “Listen, I know there’s a lot of resentment between us,” Deborah started.

  “Understatement of the year.”

  Deborah paused and looked at him seriously. “That being said, I’m not here for me. I’m here because Alan asked me to come to you.”

  Michael scoffed. “Seriously? You want me to help Alan Carter?”

  “Actually, it has more to do with his sister?”

  “Are you insane?” Michael asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “The tree, Michael,” Deborah said. “I’m talking about the tree behind your house.”

  Michael hesitated, his mind racing with what to say. If she knew about the tree, then she probably knew about everything else, and that meant her being here was not in his best interest. He immediately regretted letting her in.

  “You obviously know about it,” Deborah said, “about everything that’s been going on in Melington. And you also know that tree is the key.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael replied, immediately grimacing at how stupid he sounded.

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “I don’t care,” Michael said. “You should go.”

  Deborah gritted her teeth to stop herself from saying anything that might compromise her one chance at convincing Michael to help her. She had known this wouldn’t be easy, but now that she was here, this close to where she needed to be, she wasn’t intending to let up.

  “Michael, this is bigger than the both of us,” Deborah said. “Right now, you need to forget about everything that’s happened between us and try to look at the bigger picture.”

  Michael frowned in anger. “You think this is about us?” he asked incredulously. “I don’t care anymore. What I do care about is how you’re standing in my house, asking for my help, when for the past six months you’ve done everything you could to avoid me. I called you, remember? When I found my father sitting alone on the couch, a frigging vegetable staring out into space, I called you. Do you remember what you said to me?”

  Deborah shook her head.

  “Nothing, Deborah,” Michael yelled. “You said absolutely nothing, because you wouldn’t pick up. You wouldn’t return my calls. Nothing! When I needed someone, anyone, by my side, you were off playing house with Alan Carter like I never existed!”

  Deborah flinched. “Michael, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “No, you’re not,” Michael said. “You’re here for Alan, for yourself, and you have the audacity to believe I’d accept an apology? I don’t want your damn apologies! I want you out!”

  Deborah felt her body shudder at the realization of how much she had done Michael wrong. She had ignored him completely when he had needed her most, and now she was asking for his help like she had done nothing wrong. He was right to resent her, and she doubted she could say anything to make things right. Not now, at least.

  Still, Alan was counting on her, and she couldn’t be the reason his plan failed.

  “Michael, please, hear me out.”

  “No!” he yelled, grabbing her firmly by the arm, hurting her as he pulled her towards the door. “Get out!”

  Deborah tried to pull her arm back, but his grip was too tight, and she stumbled as he forcefully flung her towards the door. She grabbed onto him to stop her fall, and was surprised when he pushed her away. Deborah fell with a crash, her arms flailing as she tried to cushion the fall and failed. Her head hit the side of a small table by the door, and she cried out as she felt the warmth of blood trickling down the side of her face.

  Michael reached for her, his eyes red with rage, and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to scream as he tried to pull her back to her feet. Deborah kicked out blindly, blood dripping into her eye as she tried to break free of his grasp. She heard him grunt in pain when her foot connected with his groin, and she staggered away as he fell to his knees.

  “You bitch!” Michael groaned, painfully pushing himself back up.

  Deborah reached out frantically, grabbing the first thing she could lay her hands on. She was on her feet as Michael grabbed her by the hair again, this time more forcefully and with obvious intent to hurt her as he pulled her towards him. Deborah swung at him and he cried out as the vase in her hand crashed against his head, porcelain shattering and flying around her, Michael’s body heavy against her own as they both fell to the floor.

  She watched as his eyes rolled back in their sockets and closed, his limp body weighing her down and suffocating her. With the little strength she had left, Deborah pushed him off her and gasped for air. She could feel her heart racing inside her chest, the pain in her head excruciating.

  She pushed herself up to a sitting position and glanced at Michael’s unconscious body. She was going to have to do this on her own after all.

  ***

  Melington burned.

  If there was one thing David Whelm had been right about, it was why Stanley’s supporters had gathered around him. They were here to take action, and they would not leave until they were satisfied.

  The entire downtown area was ablaze. Fights had broken out in every corner as shop and home owners tried their best to stop the riot from spreading to their properties. Firefighters had been dispatched to handle the flames, but they couldn’t get through the mob of protesters, and were eventually forced to turn around as angry rioters bombarded them with stones.

  At one point, someone thought it would be a good idea to push a bunch of parked cars into the middle of one street and light them all on fire. The resulting explosion took out three stores and injured countless people, turning Lexington Street into a no-man’s land.

  The riot moved forward at a tremendous pace, and nothing was spared as the drunk and angry mob spread mayhem in their wake. On the outskirts of town, the compounds quickly locked their gates, hoping they could out-last the horror that would eventually make its way towards them. Families began collecting whatever valuables they could in a rush to evacuate the town before it was too late to leave.

  Sheriff Fiona Bright stood firm at the mouth of Avens Drive, three cruisers lined side by side in a blockade as the Police waited for the oncoming mob. She had emptied out the police station of all its weapons, knowing that taking a stand there would be suicide. Her only chance was to face the onslaught out in the open where she could better control the situation.

  Several townspeople had joined the lines of the police, insistent on protecting their homes against the rioters. Many had showed up with weapons, and although Fiona knew it would spell trouble if they were ever forced to use them, she said nothing. As far as she was concerned, the entire mob was expendable, the lives of dozens unimportant to her in the grand scheme of things.

  “I called the surrounding towns,” Officer Alexandra Bail said, coming up beside the Sheriff, looking awkward with a shotgun in her hands. “They promised to send reinforcements, but it won’t be much. They’re worried this thing might spill over to them.”

  “It won’t spill over,” Fiona said firmly. “It stops here.”

  Alexandra saw the look in Fiona Bright’s eyes and immediately felt a chill race through her. There was nothing warm there, and the woman feared what the Sheriff would do.

  “Shouldn’t we be using the batons and shields?” Alexandra asked. “I’m a little worried with all these guns around.”

  Fiona looked at the Alexandra, her gaze forcing the other woman back. “My deputy and two other officers are missing behind the lines, and the entire downtown is ablaze and spreading. Do you think we have time for batons and shields, Officer?”

  Alexandra shook her head quickly.

  “Warning shots first, then tear gas,” Fiona said.

  “Tear gas?”

  Fiona kept her gaze forward. “If that doesn’t work, shoot to kill.”
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br />   ***

  Rachel Adams parked outside the Carter house and fished for her purse. Her daughter’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and she felt her heart drop. Time was of the essence, and she couldn’t waste any of it driving around town looking for them.

  She would have to wait.

  Rachel looked out her window at the house. Memories of when she and her husband had spent countless afternoons in the company of the Carters raced through her mind. It had been a simpler time then, even when things were still horrific and the blood bindings had them all stressed. Logan had often spent hours on end talking to her about alternative solutions to dealing with Copper, and she now wished she had paid more attention to him.

  Rachel frowned in anger. She felt a completely new level of hatred for Daniel Cole and what he had done to all of them. She couldn’t deny how much the founding families owed him, but she also couldn’t look past what he had put them through to give them the illusion of safety. His methods had been cruel and heartless, and unfortunately had infected the rest of the Council.

  She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she had been voted out of her position. She was unable to comprehend how desperate the Council had become to go back to the old ways of doing things. Even if there wasn’t a distinct plan on how to deal with Copper Tibet, Rachel was sure that the blood bindings would not be the solution.

  The Council’s threat to her family had not fallen on deaf ears, and Rachel couldn’t help but worry about the future. She would have to trust Alan to find a way around the blood bindings and stop Copper once and for all. Her family’s future depended on it.

  Rachel looked at her watch and sighed. She reached into her purse and fished for her cell phone, deciding it would be best to call her daughter and find out when they would be back home.

  The street light above her flickered, and as she looked up at it through her windshield, it went out completely, drowning her car in darkness. Rachel felt a sudden cold wash over her, and she quickly reached for the car door to let herself out.

  “Adams.”

  Rachel Adams froze.

  The car filled with the smell of rot, the sudden burst of intolerable stench rushing into her nose and throat slowly suffocating her. She felt her muscles tense, a pure ache racing through her as she tried to move her arms but couldn’t. The darkness around her seemed to grow heavier, and as her eyes glanced at the rearview mirror, she could see a silhouette sitting in the backseat behind her.

  Rachel felt a sudden burst of adrenaline race through her as her fight and flight instincts kicked in. Suddenly her muscles gave way and allowed her to move. Her hands shot out to the door, fumbling as she tried to let herself out.

  A hand shot out and grabbed her by the shoulder, nails digging into her flesh and forcing her to scream. The grip pulled her back into her seat, and her screams were stifled by an arm wrapping around her neck and pressing hard.

  Rachel felt the dead skin against her own and heaved, her stomach turning as the hand gripping her shoulder quickly clasped down on her mouth. She couldn’t breathe, her chest burning as she gasped against the deadly grip, taking in more of the horrible stench.

  “Adams.”

  She could hear the raspy voice close to her now, and in the rearview mirror the monster’s eyes glowed like twin flames. Its mouth pressed up against her ear and its tongue smacked against its lips. Rachel felt the world around her spin as she tried to struggle against the monster’s grip, but the thing was too strong.

  “You disappoint me, Adams,” the raspy voice purred against her ear, the vibrations of its voice echoing into her head. “You all disappoint me. Did you think I would not know?”

  Rachel gave up fighting, too weak to struggle anymore as her body slackened against her seat. The arm around her neck tightened, and as her eyes grew heavy and her mind grew foggy, Copper Tibet chuckled from the darkness behind her.

  “Fun, Adams,” Copper’s voice pierced through her mind and tore at the threads of sanity within. “We are going to have so much fun.”

  Chapter 12

  Alan followed the woman in red down the corridor.

  The pulsing lights around him had dimmed to a deep maroon, straining his eyes. The entire corridor seemed to grow darker, and Alan could feel the air around him drop a few degrees. Goose bumps broke out across his skin, and he crossed his arms and rubbed at them to stay warm.

  The woman did not stop, briefly looking back at him every now and then to make sure he was still following. Alan wondered how much further they would have to go. He looked at the peeling walls around him, and how even the doors had begun to change their shapes, some cracked, others bending out of shape. He tried to imagine the countless children behind the doors, caged in their own little worlds, unable to escape. He pushed the thoughts away quickly, resolute on finishing what he had come to do.

  Kathrine first. He would figure out a way to get the rest later.

  “We are close, Alan Carter,” the woman said, sensing that he was growing restless.

  “Where are we?” Alan asked, his teeth chattering as the temperature around him continued to drop.

  The woman looked back at him and shook her head slowly, as if to tell him not to ask.

  Alan followed silently, trying to ignore how everything seemed a lot more sinister here, the walls and doors continuing to deteriorate as he moved. He couldn’t imagine his sister surrounded by all this, and wondered how she must have felt when she had found her way out and into the corridor, how the cold and emptiness must have scared her as she raced down the corridor in search of him. The thought of her alone here made his conviction even stronger, his resolution to save her greater than it had ever been before.

  “You will not have much time,” the woman said. “He will find you. He always does.”

  Alan shivered in the cold. “There’s a way out from the inside,” he said. “The same as there was when I was in Allison’s room.”

  The woman stopped and turned to him. “You do not understand the consequences of what you are attempting to do, Alan Carter,” she said. “There are things you cannot fathom, depths to your actions you cannot control.”

  Alan frowned in frustration. “I’ll keep my promise,” he said. “I’ll find a way to stop him. All I want is my sister.”

  The woman stared at him a moment longer before nodding and pointing to a door. “Remember, it began with a Carter, and it must end with a Carter.”

  Alan watched the door open before his eyes, and without replying, he stepped inside.

  ***

  Stanley Turk stared at the television in horror.

  The riot was over, but what was left in its wake would take days to rectify. Newscasters had come in from all around town to cover the story, and Stanley watched as the cameras filmed firefighters racing to and from burning buildings in an attempt to stop the flames from spreading.

  Downtown Melington was gone.

  Several of the buildings had collapsed from the heat of the fires. The ones still standing, nothing more than blackened shells in the lights of the surrounding flames. Volunteers were carrying the injured and the dead away from the mayhem, paramedics intertwined with the police as everyone tried to make sense of what had happened. Only hours before, Melington had been a cozy little town where a disaster like this was unheard of.

  Stanley buried his face in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. He had never wanted things to escalate this far.

  “If you keep staring at it, you’re going to lose your mind,” David Whelm said from behind him.

  Stanley turned to the man in anger. “This is your fault!” he shouted, pointing at the television.

  David grabbed a few clothes off the bed and stashed them into his bag. “I had nothing to do with this,” he said, zipping the bag closed as he raced into the bathroom. “Neither did you, for that matter. Nobody told those people what to do.”

  “Do you actually hear what you’re saying?” Stanley said. “We ignited the flam
e that started all this. The video, the call to action, everything we did led to this. How could you distance yourself from it all?”

  David walked back into the room and tossed a razor and toothbrush onto the table. “Easy,” he said. “I’m not actually responsible for it.”

  Stanley stared at the man in disbelief as David made his way to a small dresser and opened one drawer after the other, making sure he was leaving nothing behind. For the first time since he had let David talk him into doing this, Stanley wanted to strangle the man with his bare hands.

  “You’re unbelievable,” Stanley said.

  David slammed the last door closed. “Listen, if I were you, I’d talk less and move more,” he said furiously.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Look at that!” David yelled, pointing at the television. “It’s safe to say, we’re the most wanted people in Melington right now, and if you want to sit around and sulk about it, then be my guest. Me, I’m going to get out of here before the road blocks are up and people actually start hunting us down.”

  “Eight people are dead!” Stanley shouted.

  “And I am not going to wait around and see what the nice people of this town are going to do about it.”

  Stanley shook his head in frustration. “We can’t run away from this.”

  “Hey, buddy, I have nothing to worry about,” David said. “As far as the law is concerned, I’m just trying to write a story. You’re the fugitive, and I suggest you start running before the police come knocking on your door.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Stanley cried out, jumping to his feet and grabbing David by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall.

  David threw a punch, his fist connecting with Stanley’s midsection. Stanley staggered back, the wind blown out of him as he coughed and tried to steady himself. David moved in, landing another blow to Stanley’s jaw that sent him to the ground.

  Stanley rolled onto his back, staring up at David as the other man towered over him threateningly.

 

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