The Cult

by Arno Joubert

  “Outside,” McGill called as she disappeared.

  He heard her pull open the door and squeal in delight.

  He sauntered downstairs and found them embracing in the entrance hall, her arms around his neck, he picking her up and kissing her forehead.

  Damn, how he wished Ruth was still alive.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Alexa shifted in her chair. “How did I do, Dad?”

  Bruce checked her wounds as he re-applied the bandages. “Sit still for a moment, Alexa.”

  Alexa took a deep breath, placing her hands on her knees, trying to stop her legs from bouncing up and down. She needed to find Neil.

  Bruce nodded his approval. “Okay, put your shirt back on.”

  “How did I do?” Alexa asked again, slipping the T-shirt over her head.

  “No broken bones, slight inflammation of the wound, I taught you well.”

  “So I’m good to go?”

  “As good as you’ll ever be.” He handed her a bottle. “Take these after meals. It’s Naproxen; it’ll help with the swelling and redness.” He looked at Alexa, concern furrowing his brow.

  She took the bottle from him. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “Neil’s GLD signal disappeared this morning.”

  “Have you sent anybody to look for him?”

  He pursed his lips, then gave a quick shake of his head. “Not yet, you were my first priority.”

  Alexa sprang up and grabbed her leather jacket. “Then we need to go look for him, immediately.”

  Bruce studied her face for a moment, smiled and hauled himself up out of his chair. “Okay, but shouldn’t you get a new one first?” he asked, pushing a finger through the hole in her jacket.

  “Nah, gives it character. Where do we start?”

  Bruce strode to the door. “I guess the last place that we picked up his signal.”

  “And where would that be?”

  “And abandoned apartment block in East Vegas.”

  “East Chapel Street?”

  Bruce turned around surprised, nodded. “You know the place?”

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Wrong, why?”

  “I don’t think it’s abandoned at all.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Alexa pumped the brakes and pulled the panel van to a stop, tires screeching. She yanked up the emergency brake and was out of the door before the vehicle had come to a complete stop.

  She strode forward and stood in the middle of East Chapel, looking up at the seemingly abandoned apartment block. A door slammed and Bruce joined her, surveying the building. Everything looked the same except for a newly added piece of graffiti on the wall that said, “Niners Suck Balls.”

  The door to the side of the van slid open and a tall man stepped out, massaging his neck. “Excellent driving,” he said in a sarcastic voice. He looked around as more men piled out of the van. “Nice neighborhood.”

  Alexa heaved a duffle bag from the van and dropped it on the sidewalk. “Pick whatever you need,” she said, looking from one man to the other.

  Bruce unzipped the bag and pulled out a shotgun, looked up questioningly. “You sure about this? The place looks deserted.”

  She slammed a magazine into her Glock and slipped it into her shoulder holster. Smiled. “Trust me.”

  “How many do you think there are?” a short, stocky guy with day-old stubble on his face asked.

  “A couple of hundred, give or take.”

  He whistled and shook his head incredulously. “Give or take how many?”

  “Ninety.”

  “All in there?”

  She nodded, waving them forward. “Come on, were wasting time, let’s go.”

  She was worried about Neil. Bruce had managed to hand-pick half-a-dozen Interpol agents that he had pulled from their various assignments, and they had briefly discussed the infiltration procedure less than half-an-hour ago. She was met with a couple of weary looks when she told them that she didn’t have time to waste, she would make up the shit as they went along.

  She could see some of the men look toward Bruce for leadership, but he simply held back, allowing Alexa to run the operation.

  She shoved open the door and didn’t bother with the lift, marching straight to the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time, the men following close behind. On the third flight, she paused for a moment, then saw the man she was looking for. The bum who had busted her held a pistol on his lap, he was sleeping, his head sagging to the side as he snored loudly. He wore a ragged jacket and torn jeans and had a black hat on his head, the type the guys wore in the gangster movies.

  Alexa strode over to him and the men behind her yelled in dismay and shock as she shot the guy in the leg.

  The man woke with a start, looked down at the smoking hole in his leg and then back up. “What the hell have you done you stupid cow?” he whimpered, clutching his leg.

  She pointed the gun at him. “Shut up and stay down!”

  Bruce stood beside her, tapped the wounded man’s leg with the toe of his shoe. “This the guy?”

  Alexa nodded.

  Bruce kneeled beside the man. “See our partner around here?”

  The man’s lips quivered. “Your partner?”

  Alexa cocked her gun, jammed it into the man’s temple. “Yeah, someone decent, not like the rest of you.”

  The man scrunched his eyes closed, nodded a couple of times. “Six two, big guy?”

  “That’s him,” Bruce said.

  “Yes, yes. He’s here.”

  “Where?”

  “In the lab, fourth floor,” he whimpered.

  Alexa nodded and scrambled up the stairs.

  “Aren’t you going to call me an ambulance?” the wounded guy hollered.

  Alexa stopped, turned around. “Sorry, they don’t make house calls around here, too dangerous.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” he sobbed, looking down at the wound.

  “Just wobble along to the nearest bus stop or something.”

  “But that’s miles away.”

  Alexa smiled. “Good, you need the exercise.” She signaled the men to follow her. “Hurry, they probably know we’re here, we don’t have much time.”

  They made it to level four before without incident when Alexa lifted a fist. The men stopped behind her. “Hear that?” she asked, her head cocked to the side.

  Loud footsteps were pounding up the stairs, voices babbling excitedly. “Okay, they’re here,” Alexa shouted, double-checking her magazine before smacking it back into the gun. “Get ready and cover our asses.”

  She swung open the doorway to the fourth floor and pulled back as shots barked and a salvo of bullets splintered the wooden door. She signaled to Bruce who nodded at her, showing her two fingers. She glanced around the side of the doorway. Two men were kneeling at either side of the hallway, weapons drawn. She lifted the Glock to her chest and glanced at Bruce. “Cover me.”

  Bruce nodded and Alexa fired a tight burst of shots, then slipped around the corner and took careful aim at the ducking men as Bruce provided covering fire. She double tapped the trigger, her target grabbing his throat as the bullets found their mark. The guy to her left managed to fire one shot into the ceiling before Bruce took him down.

  They looked back, Bruce peering over the railing and looking down the stairwell, ripping his head back as a bullet ricocheted off the metal rung. “Guess our escape route isn’t feasible anymore?”

  Alexa lifted her shoulders, peered into the foyer of the fourth floor. “Never was the plan. Infiltrate, exterminate, remember?”

  She ducked back as an automatic machine gunfire sputtered and stitched holes in the wall behind her. She unclipped a hand grenade from her belt and tossed it into the hallway. Panicked shrieks and then a deafening blow and the noise of glass breaking as the impact shattered the windows in the hallways. She cautiously peered around the corner. A guy with a black goat
ee was rolling around, clutching his ankle. It didn’t have a foot attached.

  She double-tapped the trigger and finished the man off. The men behind her piled out of the door, guns held ready. “Where to?” Bruce asked.

  Alexa surveyed the entrance hall, her gaze panning past the dozen or so doors to either sides of the hallway. “Dad, you take the left hallway, I’ll take the right.”

  He nodded, then directed three men to follow him.

  She cautiously made her way to the end of the passage, tried the door. It was locked, as she had expected. She turned to the shorter man. “What’s your name?”

  He smiled. “Ray Beal.”

  “Well, Ray, do you mind doing the honors?” she whispered, gesturing toward the door.

  He showed her the thumbs up, stood back and thumped his foot into the door, once, twice. On the third try the door splintered open and Alexa barged inside, scanning the room. It was empty. They followed the same procedure as they moved along the passageway, kicking open doors, clearing the rooms.

  Alexa stood aside as the guy prepared to kick down the second to last door in the hallway, but as his foot connected with the door, it exploded out and Alexa dove for cover, her hands over her head. She coughed and pushed herself onto all fours, trying to see through the smoke. She crawled forward to where she thought Beal should be and found his body, his lifeless eyes still open. He had large blast wounds to his torso and arms, the result of an RPG.

  “Get down,” Alexa ordered the other men as she leopard crawled towards the door and peered around the corner. Two men were standing, one guy with the RPG resting on his shoulder and another loading another grenade into the weapon. They looked up as she stepped forward and fired twice, both men going down with fatal head wounds.

  Alexa strode forward, pushing the rocket launcher away from them with her foot.

  “Check the last room,” she ordered one of the men.

  He nodded and marched outside.

  Half-a-minute later, the man returned. “Empty.”

  Alexa slipped her pistol back into her shoulder holster and rested a hand on her hip, looking around uncertainly. “Shit.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Neil opened his eyes and blinked, turned his head to the side as he tried to familiarize himself with his environment. He stifled a moan as a sharp pain in his head sent a torturous jolt of pain through his head and neck. He felt light-headed and sick to the pit of his stomach, like he was suffering from one of the worst hangovers he had ever experienced. He tried to recall what had happened.

  He had been released from the police station, then made a call to Alexa’s number as a brown stationwagon rolled to a stop in front of him. Someone had grabbed him from behind and stuffed a rag drenched with some vile smelling liquid over his nose and mouth. He recalled with some satisfaction that he had managed to bite the guy’s finger and smash the back of his head into another man’s face.

  The last thought he had before blacking out was that he was being kidnapped in the middle of the day in front of thousands of eye witnesses.

  He shook his head groggily and winced again as the pain stitched through his back. Shit, Alexa? He said a silent prayer for her safety, hoping that she would be okay.

  He sat up on the bed and looked around. He was in what looked like a rundown hotel room. An old CRT television set stood on a dressing table. To the side of the room was a small cubicle, a bathroom containing a shower and toilet and basin to the side. He stood up and sauntered to the door of the small apartment. It was made from steel, set in a heavy frame. It had a small hatch at the bottom, the ones people used to allow small dogs in and out of their homes.

  He stood up and massaged the back of his neck, used the toilet.

  He hurriedly rinsed his hands as he heard a noise at the door, strode towards it. A box had been slid through the hatch at the bottom of the door; a box with fresh pizza inside. The hatch opened again, a hand appeared and rolled in a bottle of soda. Neil pushed his head through, trying to wriggle his shoulders through as well, but it was much too narrow. He turned his head and strained to look up at his jailer. “Why are you doing this?”

  A mustachioed man with a frog-like face looked down at him. “Get back in or I stomp you, asshole,” the guy shouted, pointing a thick finger at Neil.

  He pushed a boot against Neil’s head, forcing Neil back in his shabby apartment.

  Neil sat down with his back against the solid door, grabbed a slice of pizza from the box and sniffed it. He shrugged and took a big bite, swallowed it down with some soda. It was good.

  He gobbled up three slices and emptied the soda bottle. He was ravenous, it felt like he hadn’t eaten in days.

  His body stiffened as he heard an alarm sound somewhere. He cocked his head, chewing. And then the familiar announcement sounded over an intercom system. “All tenants to battle stations, intruder alert.”

  He grinned, stood up.

  Alexa had come to fetch him.

  PART SIX

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Alexa jogged towards Bruce who was standing beside one of the doors, his weapon holstered. “Anything?” she asked, out of breath.

  He shook his head, his face drawn into a perplexed scowl. “It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “What?”

  He pulled open a door to reveal a brick wall. “They’re all like this.”

  Alexa took a step back, hands on her hips. “Bricked in?”

  Bruce nodded slowly, slapped the bricks with his palm.

  Alexa turned around to the lifts, then spun around and surveyed the passageway, weighing her options. “Okay, let’s skip the rest of the doors, go for the last one in the passageway.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “A hunch.”

  “Where’s Beal?”

  “Who?”

  “Agent Ray Beal, the short guy.”

  Alexa had forgotten. Her entire being was focused on finding Neil. She turned to Bruce, pursed her lips. “Sorry, Dad.”

  Bruce looked up at the ceiling, sucked in a breath.

  Alexa marched down the passageway and stopped in front of the barred window which afforded her a view onto the side of another apartment building. She turned to face the last door in the passage, slowly turned the knob. The door swung open, and Alexa cautiously peered inside the room.

  A desk stood in front of a metal door. The desk was piled high with what looked like empty pizza boxes. She strode to the door, the keys had been left in the lock, probably by someone trying to get out in a hurry. She turned the key and it clicked, swung open smoothly.

  The door led to another darker passage, slithers of thin light visible from beneath more rows and rows of doors.

  She fumbled for a switch, flicked it on. The passage was now sparsely lit by a dozen or so bare light bulbs dangling from the ceiling.

  Alexa jogged down the passageway; doorways lined the entire corridor and she noticed a hatch of some kind at the bottom of every door. “Neil, you in here?” she shouted, banging the doors.

  She stopped and heard a muffled reply. “In here.”

  “Bang on your door or something, Neil,” Alexa shouted.

  She heard a banging two doors down, kneeled down and pulled open the hatch. “Neil, you in there?”

  Neil’s face appeared through the hatch, a sheepish grin on his face. “You’re probably wondering what a handsome guy like me is doing in a place like this?”

  Alexa sobbed, then laughed as she rained kisses down on his chin and cheeks and forehead. “Oh, God, thank you, thank you.”

  He smiled. “Get me out of here, okay?”

  She nodded as she stood up and looked around. The door was solid metal. She glanced over her shoulder as Bruce said, “try this.”

  Bruce sauntered up and handed her a key.

  “What this?”

  “A key, I found it on the table next to the pizza boxes.”

  She slipped it in the lock and turned, holding he
r breath. It unlocked and she swung the door all the way open. Neil bustled outside and lifted her up, hugging her tightly.

  “Ow, ow,” she said, pushing him away.

  He gently placed her down, his eye wide. “What’s wrong?”

  Alexa grimaced, rubbing her shoulder. “The kind people up at the temple decided to rough me up a bit. I got shot.”

  Neil’s lips tightened in a thin line. “Shit, Alex. I’m sorry.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and then kissed him on his lips. “Don’t worry. All that matters is that we’re both okay.”

  His features relaxed a bit. “You can say that again.”

  Bruce touched Alexa’s shoulder. “There’s more on the way, my men have headed them off at the stairwell, but we won’t be able to keep them back for much longer,” he said, his eyes turned to the doorway.

  Alexa glanced around, alarmed. “Shit, how do we get out?”

  Neil chuckled. “Use the lift.”

  “It works?”

  He lifted his shoulders. “Did last time.”

  They bolted to the lift and Neil punched the button with his thumb. “Okay, everyone in,” Alexa shouted as the lift shuddered to a noisy halt before them. They piled inside. Neil pressed the button to the ground floor and the lift jerked and started its descent. It lurched and jerked its way down, and Alexa cast Neil a worried glance. “I think it’s overloaded.”

  A second later, the OVERLOAD button lit and the lift ground to a jolting halt, halfway between floors. A bell boinged.

  “Shit,” Neil said, peering out of the opening. The escalator was jammed high, stuck between the second and first floors. “Okay, let’s get out of here.” He crawled out of the lift and lowered himself down to the floor, then spun around as he heard a noise behind him. “Give me a gun, quick” he shouted and Alexa tossed him her Glock. He ducked as a shot slammed into the wall somewhere beside him, then returned fire. “Okay, get out, now,” he ordered and helped Alexa down.

  The other men followed and Neil scanned the area. “There’s at least half-a-dozen of them, armed to the teeth,” he said, pointing at the doorway that led to the stairwell.