Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One)

by K. Victoria Chase

  Maggie could hear emotion thick in his throat. What if something happened to Brandon? How would she respond? Would she trust her faith wouldn’t fail her no matter her situation? Maggie always imagined she would until she heard Brandon’s story. Now she wasn’t so sure. She knew in her heart if any harm came to him, the pain would incapacitate her. She refused to dwell on any scenario in which the end resulted in his harm and her heartache.

  “I think I see some sort of light ahead.” Maggie dropped the light from her flashlight down to the ground. She squinted her eyes in an effort to distinguish illusion from reality.

  “Not getting claustrophobic, are we?” Brandon jabbed.

  “No, not really. You?”

  “Yes, actually, I am a little.”

  She couldn’t tell. His steady voice held no fear or trepidation. His firm footsteps continued right on her heels. He chased the worst criminals and he had a fear of enclosed spaces? Maggie laughed softly. “I don’t think it will be long now.”

  “Good. The smell of the iron in the dirt is starting to give me a headache.”

  “Wow, how high-maintenance you sound,” Maggie teased back.

  He chuckled.

  Maggie enjoyed their easy rapport. The tense push-pull between them had disappeared. Their kiss in the conference room eroded both his and her walls of protection. Would they continue to explore their budding relationship after the case ended? She didn’t doubt his affection but her heart refused to relinquish a small amount of uncertainty. Just like she needed validation in her job, the last little bit of anxiety would only die with his words of commitment. Yet, she wouldn’t hear them until they were out of this tunnel. Maggie quickened her steps and the small light ahead earlier grew larger. “I definitely see light.”

  “Great. Keep going but be careful. If Burrows frequents this tunnel, he could have heard us coming by now. Keep your eyes peeled.”

  “Right.”

  “As soon as we reach the surface, I’m radioing for backup.”

  “I wonder what Bernie has learned from Happy.”

  “I remember you said he wasn’t so forthcoming.”

  Maggie grimaced. Considering Happy Gilbert’s odd behavior, she could only imagine Bernie would end up with more questions than answers. Doug had been spot-on, sniffing out the elusiveness of Happy Gilbert. She made a mental note to thank him once she returned to the hotel. “If I know Doug, he should have the guy writing a confession right about now.”

  “He’s that good in the booth, huh?”

  In the interrogation booth, absolutely Doug was that good.

  Maggie stifled a gasp as she hit something hard and fell to the ground. She moaned in pain and clutched her right shin.

  “Are you alright?” Brandon knelt beside her. He shined the light around her and looked for something she could’ve tripped over.

  “I think so. Just knocked my shin on something. I’ll be okay.” As she rubbed her shin, her fingers sensed the heat of the wound from underneath her pants leg. A slight lump formed.

  “Let me help you up.”

  Brandon gently eased her to her feet. He steadied her, and Maggie calmed her nerves. She wanted to continue the journey and hoped Brandon wouldn’t recommend they turn around. As his arms continued to hold her, her eyes — long since adjusted to the darkness — focused on his. He leaned in and his warm lips brushed hers. She shivered in pleasure.

  “Be careful, will you?” His gentle petition spoke volumes. His concern for her well-being touched her core.

  For a brief second, Maggie considered falling more often. “Yes, Marshal Worth.”

  Brandon grinned. He released her and knelt to retrieve her flashlight. He handed it to her. His fingers lingered on hers longer than really necessary. Maggie appreciated the gesture and bit her lip to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl.

  Another three minutes of carefully making their way down the tunnel and Maggie informed Brandon a wall blocked their continuance. Brandon moved forward, and gently moved her behind him. He put his hands up and felt around. He agreed they were at the end of the tunnel.

  “Now what?” Maggie asked. She hoped another door would lead elsewhere but so far they were several feet beneath the earth, with no sign of an exit. Maggie worked to keep her frustrations in check.

  “Hold on, let’s see if this thing goes up.” Brandon reached above and gave a soft cry of success. “Something is here. I think it’s another wood door or covering.” He backed away and then knelt, cupping his hands. “Let me give you a boost. Push up as hard as you can.”

  “Okay.” She placed her foot into his hand and he lifted. Maggie gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might. Dirt, leaves, and twigs covered them as she removed the wooden blockage. Light enveloped them and fresh air filled her lungs. With another boost, Maggie climbed over the side.

  “Careful up there,” Brandon called from below.

  She paused and on her knees, pulled out her weapon. She cautiously panned around. Her ears strained for any noise; her eyes searched for the slightest movement. The forest surrounded her. She eyed no identifiable trails, nor did she hear the sounds of civilization. Birds chirped, and insects shrilled. Satisfied they were alone, she replaced her weapon and reached down to help pull Brandon out. After he inhaled a deep breath, he unsheathed his weapon.

  Maggie stayed close to the ground but tried to establish her bearings. The sun still traveled toward the top of the sky, and in the distance, all she could perceive were the songs of birds, and the knocking of woodpeckers on their favorite trees. “We could be anywhere.”

  “I don’t remember the tunnel making any twists and turns.”

  “Nor I.”

  “Hopefully we’re at most a mile into the woods, a direct line from the Burrows’s residence.”

  “Hopefully,” Maggie whispered. The woods surrounding them were fairly dense and she couldn’t see a single house on Burrows’s lane.

  “These woods were difficult to search.” Brandon’s phone buzzed. “I have several missed calls and a couple of voicemails. Keep watch, will you?”

  “On it.” Maggie kept her weapon at the ready while Brandon prioritized his messages.

  “Jackson? It’s Worth. Yeah, Agent Weston and I discovered a tunnel in the second basement. You can’t miss it. We followed it out. Yeah, about a mile. Hold on, let me look at my watch.”

  Maggie heard him give the coordinates to their location. Then a tree branch snapped. Brandon immediately ceased his conversation. He ended the call and pulled his firearm.

  “North of us,” Maggie whispered. Brandon nodded and Maggie allowed him to take the lead. Both moved stealthily through the forest brush, careful to make their footsteps as light as possible. About five minutes later, Brandon held up a hand to signal her to stop. A couple of yards behind him, Maggie paused and made a careful three hundred sixty-degree turn. Her eyes checked for any movement. After she was sure they weren’t being followed, Maggie moved closer to Brandon.

  “What is it?”

  “You see that bit of brush up ahead?” He pointed directly in front of them.

  Maggie’s gaze eyed the ridge, and then traveled downward. Large root systems shot out of the soft dirt and ended near a strange heap. “Yes. Beneath that slope.”

  “Right. It looks out of place, doesn’t it?”

  Maggie leaned closer. The branches and leaves were at different angles from the surrounding foliage. Yet, the covering looked fresh, the branches recently pulled to form a hideaway. “You’re right.”

  Maggie’s fingers tightened on her weapon. All this time, Burrows was right here, a mile or so away from his property. Why didn’t the dogs sniff him out? This spread of forest was one of the first places the Marshals’ unit searched when they arrived in Culpeper.

  “Cover me.”

  Maggie raised her weapon; she kept her eyes swiveling around the area, ready to counter any attack. Brandon carefully removed the brush and behind it was something Maggie didn’t expec
t.

  A steel door.

  It wasn’t uncommon for certain areas of Virginia to have caves. Tourists from all around the country visited the beautiful state to tour Virginia’s underground caves and the fascinating rock formations found in them. But here in Culpeper, it was uncommon. Maggie considered the possibility of the door leading to an old war bunker. Either way, Brandon reached for the handle. It pulled easily and the door opened.

  Maggie hurried up the slight incline as Brandon pulled out a flashlight and stepped inside, descending a short stack of stares. “Brandon?” She heard him groan and put an arm up to his face.

  The stench was overpowering. Maggie sheathed her weapon and covered her nose and mouth with one arm while she shined the flashlight with the other. Maggie knew the smell: the unmistakable odors of rotting flesh. Her light washed over light-colored hair and cheekbones starting to show due to the loss of skin. There were obvious signs of injuries to the women, but their lifeless eyes confirmed none of their souls still lingered on this earth.

  An involuntary surge came from within her belly. Her lungs burned for air and her stomach churned. If she didn’t leave the bunker, she would lose her breakfast all over the victims’ remains. Brandon had already moved toward the opening with speed and she followed. When they both reached the outside, they fell to their knees and coughed and sucked in air. Maggie heard Brandon heave, and then she followed suit. Brandon moved to her side. He put his hands on her shoulders as the last of her coughs died down.

  “Maggie? Talk to me. Are you okay?” His voice came out in ragged breaths.

  Maggie nodded and wiped her mouth on her jacket sleeve. She put a hand to her stomach, hoping to keep whatever was left of her breakfast in her digestive tract. She filled her lungs with fresh air, although the smell from the bunker seeped out.

  “Well, we found them,” Brandon said between deep breaths.

  “Thank God.” The victims’ families came to Maggie’s mind. A few had accepted the disappearances and that they would never be found. At least, not found alive. Others still held out hope perhaps their captor would be merciful and let them return home. Finally, they would have closure. Sadness wracked Maggie’s body. Their hopes would be dashed. They had been home all this time. Now their bodies would soon be laid to rest.

  “You think if he were hiding the bodies, the door would be more secure,” Maggie thought out loud.

  “We need to move,” Brandon suggested.

  If they found where Burrows had stashed the bodies of his victims, then Burrows wouldn’t be far away. Brandon stood and moved to close the door to the bunker when an unmistakable crack shot through the air. Brandon fell back.

  “Brandon!”

  He didn’t move; his arms and legs sprawled out on the ground. She crawled toward him but a searing pain shot through her upper left shoulder. “Brandon—” She slumped forward; she still struggled to reach his stilled body. Maggie blinked. Black spots obscured her vision.

  A presence neared, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She recognized that presence from her dreams. The darkness chasing her time and time again leaned in so close she could feel its hot breath on her ear.

  “Now, I have you.”

  She fell forward and succumbed to the darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brandon groaned. Someone pulled at his body. He squinted his eyes against the loud cacophony of voices that yelled and dogs that barked. His head drummed, and the left side of his shoulder throbbed with pain. He reached a hand to touch it, and warm liquid wet his fingers.

  He’d been shot.

  That realization brought him back to the present. How long had he been out? Where exactly was he? Who did the voices belong to?

  “Maggie.” He forced his eyes open and tried to sit up, but hands pushed him back down.

  “Hold on, Brandon.”

  Bernie. Brandon winced at the pain of pressure from the gauze Bernie placed against his wound. “Bernie, I’ve been shot.”

  Bernie’s sad eyes assessed him before he focused on the wound. “That’s an understatement.”

  Brandon heard the concern in his voice. He allowed Bernie to continue attending his wound. Brandon’s eyes searched the faces of the agents around him. If he had been shot, what about Maggie? No face or form matched hers.

  “Where’s Maggie?” If anything happened to her…

  Silence followed his question. Why didn’t Bernie respond? The pain in his shoulder took second place to his rising irritation.

  “Bernie, where is Maggie?” He emphasized each word.

  “Brandon, you need to focus on recalling what happened. Every detail is critical.” Bernie’s clip, emotionally detached voice grated Brandon’s nerves.

  Critical? His bullet wound didn’t matter to him. He was alive, and as far as he could tell, he would recover. He sat up on his right elbow. His eyes finally focused on his surroundings. He was still in the forest, exactly where he had fallen. Agents swarmed the area, some with dogs fervently sniffing the ground, and others guarding the area. Brandon heard a couple of agents on their cell phones; one talked to the local sheriff’s office and another spoke to the coroner. The coroner. Brandon looked to the ground where he last remembered seeing Maggie.

  She was gone.

  Ice flowed through his veins and a terrifying chill came over him. Did she get shot? Did any of the other agents assist her? Or worse yet, did she go after Burrows on her own?

  “Maggie?” He hoped perhaps she was nearby and he hadn’t observed her yet. Brandon closed his eyes to recreate the last event before the shot.

  Both he and Maggie exited the tunnel connected to Burrows’s second basement. Not far from the tunnel, they discovered the metal bunker that contained the nine women Burrows killed. The stench of death and decay hit both of them hard, and they relieved themselves outside the bunker. Maggie had a tougher time regaining her composure. They were just about to telephone in their location when a sharp sting pierced his shoulder. Then he woke up surrounded by his colleagues.

  Brandon heard Bernie confirm the arrival of the paramedics in five minutes. Was Maggie in need of medical attention? I have to find her.

  He rolled over onto his knees and noticed a patch of blood on the ground a yard away from his feet. His heart stopped. “Bernie, get off the phone and tell me what happened now!” Brandon gritted. The yelling increased the pain in his shoulder.

  Bernie snapped his phone shut. His mouth dipped downward, his eyes grave.

  Lord, Lord, Lord, please no…

  “There’s evidence of her being wounded, if this is her blood.” He pointed down to the spot. Brandon fixated on the rusty color now mixed with dirt.

  “By the time we arrived, you were the only one here. We have the dogs out searching for her.”

  “This was never about any other women,” he muttered to himself. “It was only about one woman.”

  “What are you saying?”

  The profiler who discovered him and got him sentenced to the electric chair: Special Agent Margaret Weston. The notes, the album, the lack of victims…all of it was an elaborate setup for Burrows to get his revenge on Maggie. He wouldn’t have just shot her. Brandon’s gaze swerved to the bunker. Burrows tortured his victims. “I know where she is.”

  Bernie squatted and laid a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “Brandon, you need to rest. You’ve lost quite a bit of blood.”

  “No, I can find her.” Brandon struggled to get up. When he tried to stand upright, what little blood he had rushed to his head. Bernie caught him on the way down.

  “No, you can’t. You need a doctor. Now a couple of agents are coming up with a stretcher and we’ll take you down to the paramedics. But for right now,” Bernie eased him to the ground, “sit tight. It looks like the bullet passed right through your shoulder but you could have other internal damage. Try not to move.”

  Oh, he was going to move. He was going to get to Maggie while he still breathed. “Who’s at the Burro
ws residence?” He pulled himself to his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut to the pain and exhaled as it subsided.

  “We heard the gunshots and almost everyone came running. I don’t think anyone was in the tunnel at the time you were shot. Once you gave us the coordinates, we immediately headed in your direction. There should be at least one agent posted outside the residence.”

  “He’ll be there.” Brandon clutched his shoulder and tried to focus his vision.

  “At the residence? Highly unlikely.”

  Another agent called Bernie away and Brandon took his chance. He dodged away from the group, headed in the direction of the tunnel. His head spun, but he pushed his feet to go faster.

  God, I know I haven’t spoken to you in years. I’ve already lost one woman; I can’t lose another. Please, please allow me to reach her. I beg You…

  He continued to make his way down the side of the hilly terrain. The startled voices of his colleagues in the distance urged him forward. If he could get the drop on Burrows, Maggie would have a chance at surviving. If not, Burrows had the upper hand with Maggie as a hostage. The closest negotiator was in DC, yet Brandon couldn’t see Burrows agreeing to any deal that involved releasing Maggie. A deal. Maggie wouldn’t want any deals made with Burrows over her, but in truth, Brandon would make a deal with almost anyone to save her life.

  Brandon slid onto the ground near the tunnel and leaned in. His eyes peered into the darkness. He quieted his breathing to hear any sounds that resembled Maggie. When he neither saw nor heard anything, he felt for his gun, still sheathed, and pulled it. He jumped down into the hole, and nearly succumbed to his body’s desire to lose consciousness. Brandon inhaled deeply, prayed for strength, and then sprinted down the tunnel.

  ****

  Maggie stirred. The sharp pain in her shoulder caused her to moan. Her tongue tasted something thick, the texture harsh. She couldn’t close her mouth, the edges pulled back by a cloth wrapped tightly around her head. A cough erupted from her and she tasted blood. She breathed in, but the gag blocked the air that would cool her hot, dry throat. Maggie opened her eyes and immediately squinted. A bright light shined down on her. Her pupils burned, and the pain in her eyes made focusing on anything difficult. She attempted to raise a hand to shield her eyes but her arm didn’t respond. She tried again.