Between Faith and Fear

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Between Faith and Fear Page 20

by J. A. Dennam


  The rage that coursed through her veins was so palpable her body physically shook with it. She went to the small sink and splashed cold water on her face. Dripping, she studied her reflection in the mirror.

  “Who did you come with?” she asked suspiciously.

  Ty tore off a paper towel. “Derek and Rena.”

  “And no one else is here?”

  He handed her the sandwich. “Not that I know of.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Melanie took the offering with a raised brow. “You’re a terrible liar and easy to manipulate.”

  Her own words to a man so easily caught came back to haunt her. You’re a terrible liar... As she glared at herself, a crack formed in her carefully constructed wall of defense.

  “You’re a good liar, Ty,” she whispered, repealing the facts with a few short words. The best liar. Her face began to crumple. No! She wouldn’t do this!

  And the first wracking sob brought her to her knees. Her wall shattered and the deluge of grief that followed drowned out the voices that told her everything would be okay.

  But nothing was okay. Her world was falling apart all over again. As if her wounds from two years ago weren’t bad enough, fate had stepped in and twisted the knife.

  Someone knocked on the door. Melanie sank into the corner, curled up and put a hand over her mouth.

  “Mel...” It was Mac. “Can I come in?”

  She choked back her sobs, took a deep, stabilizing breath and tried for something casual. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  The man didn’t argue but it was more out of respect. When she determined he’d indeed left, Melanie rose again to her feet, took some tissue and blotted her red, swollen face.

  Now she observed her reflection through a different set of eyes. Who was she? What had she become? Twenty-four hours earlier, she was a working mom with a schedule. Plans for the weekend that included fishing and cold glasses of sweet tea on the porch swing. Her biggest worry was if she’d remember to pick up bottled water on her way to work the next day. Whose major flaws were forgetfulness and an inability to scrapbook.

  Certainly not someone who could cause pain, watch a man suffer and feel nothing but...

  Indifference.

  Such a lonely emotion. No joy. No compassion. No hope. But that’s exactly what she felt. It was more terrifying than the thought of dying. What kind of mother would she be now?

  Now that Derek was...

  Damn. Him. Damn him! Melanie squeezed her eyes shut, leaned against the counter and bowed her head.

  A new voice... a small voice rose from the rubble of her heart and whispered in her ear. Would it have been better to continue on without knowing he’d lived? If he’d left her and DJ alone and never defected from IGP?

  And if the answer was yes... for whom would it be better? Derek would be no more than a ghost of himself, living a painful, tortured life in captivity until there was nothing left. How could anyone expect that of him? And how could she rob herself of his most coveted declaration of love?

  That’s right. He’d loved her. And he’d loved DJ, too. He... died... protecting his own. The thought straightened her spine. She filled her lungs with a deep, restorative breath.

  What kind of mother would she be now? One who would kill any human being that posed a threat to her son.

  She cupped her hands beneath the stream and doused her face once more. As the cold water hit, so did the realization that it was dark outside. The perfect environment for a ghost to roam undetected. Rafferty had sworn River could track them. But if she were no longer track-able, would he really be able to?

  Yes.

  Melanie’s heart skipped a beat as something niggled at the back of her brain. A memory that should hold no significance whatsoever. She reached out, turned off the faucet and dried her face with her sleeve. She threw open the door and marched over to where DJ slept in Danny’s arms.

  “Mel?”

  Mac was behind her, but her focus was on her baby. Her fingers unsnapped the crotch of DJ’s sleeper and she ran a hand over the plump, soft folds of his legs. She stopped, backtracked, lingered over a spot as she felt a small bump...

  A bump where a bug bite used to be not long ago.

  “No,” Melanie breathed, her eyes widening with fear.

  DJ began to stir. Danny was in the throws of a nightmare, her eyes moving rapidly beneath her lids.

  Chewie, who’d been watching her with mild interest, jerked his nose toward the back door... and began to growl.

  Chapter 24

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “It’s a surprise. Don’t open ‘em yet.”

  Derek could tell by the awful smell there were turkey houses nearby, but the only other clues that rolled through the open window were dirt road and steep hill.

  “Come on, Austin. At least get me upwind. That shit stinks.”

  “Keep your knickers on, we’re almost there.”

  A few seconds later, Austin’s classic red Mustang came to a stop. It still irked Derek that his best friend had gotten his driver’s license first, and then a sweet ride shortly afterwards. The perks of being rich far outweighed those of having a large family. What could a butt-load of brothers and an annoying little sister do for him besides boss him around? Sabotage his attempts to neck with girls on the back porch?

  The driver’s side door opened. Squeaky hinges loudly announced their arrival if the growling engine hadn’t already. “Get out. I’ll point you in the right direction.”

  The blindfold was getting annoying, but soon he felt Austin’s hands on his shoulders, guiding him over gravel. He walked square into a couple of metal garbage cans causing a hell of a racket.

  Austin laughed. “Oops. Sorry.”

  Derek laughed, too. “Don’t be a douche, man.”

  “You won’t be calling me names in a second.”

  Cicadas trilled their sound as they walked deep into woods. He could tell they were woods by the smell and the softer ground. “This better be good if I’m gonna be pickin’ ticks off my ass all day.”

  “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  And they stopped. Derek raised his hands. “Now?”

  “Come on, I’m growin’ old.”

  He hooked his thumbs beneath the red bandana and lifted. It took a moment for his vision to clear, but when it did, his jaw dropped to the ground.

  “Holy shit, Austin. It’s... it’s perfect!”

  She was a shell. On blocks, hadn’t seen the road for quite some time and the purple paint was atrocious, but there was very little rust and the dash was completely intact. “Whoa. Front bench seat,” he crooned, nose pressed against the glass. Not many of the Hemi models had them.

  “For the ladies,” Austin finished with quirking eyebrows. “I see road head in your near future.”

  Derek nodded in complete agreement as he inspected the back, ran a hand down the length of the full-width taillights. 1970 was the only year they had them.

  After he made his rounds, he knelt down in front of the recessed grill and touched the chrome emblem. Challenger R/T.

  “It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for,” he said, rubbing his chest with love.

  Austin beamed from the sidelines. “I know. And I got you a good deal if you want it.”

  Just as he opened his mouth to shout his joy to the treetops, a shot rang through the air. White-hot pain slashed through his chest and he stumbled backward with the impact. What started as words ended up a terrifying quest for air.

  “Derek!”

  Austin... help me! But the words never came.

  “Derek!”

  And he was slipping away, falling toward earth in grueling slow motion.

  “Derek!”

  The sound of rushing water moved through his head, became deafening, then slowly quieted.

  “Come on, brother, open those eyes.”

  With great effort, he lifted his lids a bare crack.

  “That’s right,” the voice encouraged, �
��time to wake up.”

  When he tried to use his own voice, nothing happened. The natural inclination to sit up produced another slice of pain and he finally released a sound of anguish.

  “Baby steps, take it slow.”

  Recognition dawned. The person guiding him from the ether was Ty. His eyes opened some more. Now that he knew he could, he licked his parched lips and tried his vocal cords again.

  “Where... where are we?”

  Ty’s head came into focus. At first it was just a blond military cut and two dark circles for eyes, but then he noticed the hopeful smile. The man threw out his hands. “You’re in my makeshift triage unit, man. Welcome to the living!”

  A quick check showed he wore nothing from the waist up except a bandage on his chest and... yes, one in the back, too. “What... happened?”

  “You were shot. By Sophie.” Ty checked the bag of fluids hanging by the cot. “Luckily the bullet missed your lung, but only by a hair. Nicked a rib and stopped just short of the skin on the other side. I had to cut it out, but luckily I could feel it in there.”

  Now he remembered. Stepping off the elevator, wiping his wet fingers on his uniform pants as he walked by Rena. But then it was a blank.

  “Melanie...”

  Ty poured some water into a plastic cup. “She’s fine. DJ, too. They’re with your sister and her husband.”

  “I... I want--”

  He put the straw to Derek’s lips. “You need to keep your ass on that cot and lay still a little longer. Don’t worry about them, they’re completely safe.”

  ____________

  The lights went out. Chewie’s nails clicked against the wood floor as he scrambled to his feet and quieted.

  Melanie hooked her baby beneath his armpits, drew him close. A match was struck. Dim light turned brighter when the flame touched a wick and grew.

  Except for the pounding of her heart, there was complete silence.

  Danny slowly sat up, waking from her nightmare only to face a real one. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  “We don’t know yet,” Melanie answered, but the wait was killing her.

  The door to the shop opened a little wider. Rafferty’s moans were louder in the background, now. The meager light from the street lamp outside lit up the shades, framing Austin’s unmistakable height from behind. “Emery?” he said.

  Melanie’s granddad put the lamp down. “He’s not sneaking in here through any doors. No windows to open. He’s got to be outside.”

  Melanie caught something that made her take a second look. “Granddad, cover the lamp for a second.”

  He did. There it was again, a displacement of the light behind Austin. Her eyes widened in shock. “Austin, outside! Behind you!”

  Glass shattered. Chewie leaned back on his haunches and barked wildly.

  “Now!” Elijah shouted. Both he and Austin dove for the back room, slammed and locked the door. Everyone ducked, covered their ears. Melanie covered DJ’s ears as rehearsed.

  An incredible explosion of sound and light blasted through the cracks in the door. Melanie’s eardrums revolted despite the fact they were in a different room.

  With no time to recover, Austin dove for the door again and crashed through it. He was surely deaf, but the man was on a mission. To see if they’d caught anything with their trussed-up bait.

  “That was a percussion grenade?” Melanie knew she asked it, but could barely hear herself. DJ cried in her lap and Chewie was a shivering heap of nerves. Poor guy... there’d been no one to cover his ears and he was probably in just as much pain as the man in the barber chair.

  “You said this ghost has enhanced night vision and hearing?” Emery asked.

  Melanie nodded.

  “Not anymore.”

  He and Elijah shared a look. The two veterans grinned big and began to hem-haw with childish glee.

  Mac shouted from the door. “We catch anything?”

  Austin shouted back. “Rafferty’s gone!”

  They all piled into the barbershop. The windows and vanity mirror were in scattered pieces on the floor. Blue liquid covered the counter where the various combs and scissors had been soaking in a glass jar. Rafferty was nowhere in sight, but his ropes had been severed by the unfamiliar, black-hooded ghost groaning on the floor.

  Austin took chase in hopes of finding Rafferty. Mac took charge and hefted their fresh catch into the barber chair. “You two fellas want to work your magic?” he asked, and Emery and Elijah produced a coil of rope.

  Everyone gathered around the assassin to see what all the fuss was about. Mac pulled the hood back.

  “He’s a damned kid,” Elijah muttered with attitude. “Think I saw him in a puddin’ commercial once.”

  The ghost named River appeared to be exactly that. A kid. His V-shaped face bore some signs of acne and his brown hair curled cutely over his forehead and ears. Melanie was unfazed by the boyish innocence. Knew he was just as dangerous as the others.

  “I think he’s been here awhile because I just found a tracking device in DJ’s leg,” she informed the group, bouncing DJ on her hip. Her hearing was returning to normal and the constant ringing was dimmer now. “He’s been waiting for the darkness to come. Question is... what has he been doing while biding his time?”

  Mac thought about it as River began to struggle against the ropes. “Looks like he planned to free Rafferty first. Quick little shit. He succeeded before the grenade went off.”

  “And then they’d what... kill us all one-by-one?”

  The kid’s eyes were open and watchful, but every time he pulled on his wrists, his ankles suffered for it. “You have to let me go,” he said finally, revealing a slight gap between his two front teeth.

  Emery sniffed the air, turned toward the back room. “Anyone else smell sulfur?”

  When it sank in, everyone went deathly still.

  “Or,” Elijah rasped, “he meant to kill us all at once.”

  ____________

  Derek came out of another dream, opened his eyes. “Ty.”

  His voice was much too weak and Ty was nowhere around. How long had he been out this time? He moved his head to the left, studied his surroundings. The storage unit was empty. He took two shallow breaths and swung his legs over the side of the cot. The ache in his chest was excruciating, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Sometimes it helped with his endurance knowing he’d survived much greater, more profound pain than this.

  Once in a vertical position, Derek carefully tested his muscles, touched the bandage on his chest. He knew he shouldn’t look, but the temptation was too great. He peeled the tape away, pulled back a corner. Yikes. Dark orange stains surrounded the gory mess of blood and coagulant. Ty had used iodine to clean the wound. For some reason, the hole in his back hurt much worse. All in all, it wasn’t anything that should keep him down for too long.

  Derek slowly got to his feet. His black hoodie was a shredded mess on the floor and there were no other clothes around. His waistband felt stiff and uncomfortable. When he pulled it out, dried blood flaked onto his fingers. The stuff was everywhere.

  He took a step. The room spun but he caught himself against the table and prevented a nasty fall. His head sagged between his shoulders, pulling on stiffened, traumatized muscles. Pain was everywhere, not just his gunshot wound.

  The rolling door moved upward. Ty ducked underneath it and paused when he caught sight of Derek up and about.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  “I have to get out of here,” Derek said, shaking the vertigo from his brain. “Mel needs me.”

  Ty let the door fall to the ground and caught him just as he was about to tip over. “You can’t. You’ve lost too much blood. If you start walking around now you could seize or even slip into a coma.”

  “Then get them on the phone. I need to find out what’s going on.”

  Ty lowered him back down to the cot. “I was just on the phone with them. That’s why I was outside. So far, everyone is
still safe and sound.”

  “River will find a way...”

  “Chewie’s with them. River won’t get within twenty yards without them knowing.”

  “But--”

  “Just relax, buddy. Everything will be fine.” Then he gave his face a hearty pat and smiled. “Trust me.”

  Chapter 25

  They all stood on the opposite sidewalk and watched as River struggled against his bonds through the broken window.

  Melanie took the phone from her ear and held it up. “Sorry, River, they couldn’t get to your bomb in time! I hope you’re right with God!”

  “No!” The kid’s shoulders contorted in his efforts to break out of the barber chair. “Rafferty, help me you bastard!”

  “Everyone better get down!”

  The smattering of people on the street ducked for cover... everyone but she and Danny. DJ was safely in Mac’s arms, far away from the blast zone. It appeared River would be the only victim of his own deadly trap.

  Seconds passed. The kid began to sob quietly. Melanie spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Not so scary now, is he?”

  Danny leaned against the street lamp and crossed her legs. “Two to one odds he pees his pants.”

  Melanie decided to test that theory. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Three! Two! One!”

  River braced himself, ducked his head and let out one last tortured scream.

  Crickets preened in the night.

  Emery and Elijah appeared around the corner of the strip of shops, looked at the small crowd, at Melanie and Danny.

  Melanie put a finger to her lips. “Any second now!”

  But the kid was beginning to catch on. His explosives should have detonated a while ago.

  Emery reached the open picture window and leaned against the sill, waited for River to open his eyes and notice him. When he did, the old man said, “Sparklers, kid? You had extremely powerful, military-grade plastic explosive shoved inside my coal chute... and you used sparklers to ignite it?”

 

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