by N Gray
“Okay, you can stop now, Neal.” I pulled Neal off Dylan’s corpse.
Neal crawled to the corner and vomited.
“Ah, just great. Now who’ll clean that up? No one else is allowed in here,” I complained as I walked behind the bar to retrieve a wet cloth and a bucket from under the counter and filled it with water.
“Sorry. I can’t believe I did that. I felt his bones break.” Neal dry heaved, sat against the wall and stared at his hands.
“It’s all right, man. You did good.” I dropped the bucket near his feet. “You still have to clean it up though.”
“Yeah, sure. Sorry.” He took the cloth from my hands and scooped the mess into the bucket. He cleared his throat. “Uh, and one more thing.”
I turned to face him.
“Someone may or may not have called the cops on me.”
“What?” I yelled.
“He didn’t want to get into my car.”
“Jesus, Neal. What the fuck, man? What happened to being gentle first then crazy once you get them here?”
“I couldn’t help myself.” He banged his head against the wall. “He was pissing me off the moment he got to my house. Three of my neighbors came outside to see the commotion.”
“Fuck!” I went around the bar and fetched the key for the van. “Let’s bail.”
We had to finish this quickly. If someone had alerted the cops to the fact something happened, they could be looking for him already. We had to get rid of his body soon.
We passed the landfill remediation project and took the next right into the Big Marsh Bike Park. I stopped the van in front of the locked gates, climbed out, fished for the key unlocked it and pushed the gates open.
Once I was inside, Damian cleared his throat. “Um, how did you get a key for this place?”
I turned slowly to meet his eyes and grinned without answering him.
He harrumphed, folded his arms across his chest and faced the front again.
The van jerked forward as I pulled away and drove up the dark road. Once we were in the parking lot, I veered the van off the path and onto the grass, following the bike path alongside the marsh on our left. Once we were well hidden between trees, I killed the engine.
Big Marsh in Chicago's greater Calumet region sat on a former industrial dumping ground that had been transformed into a bike park. I’d been here a few times with ideas on how to improve on the construction. I smiled inwardly as I helped the others remove Dylan’s body from the van and carried it to the edge of the marsh.
Once his body was among the vegetation in the marsh with his feet in the water, we removed all his belongings and wiped his hands and face, just in case.
“Please, can the next dump be on dry land? I’m sick of slugging through swamps and marshes,” Aika complained as she walked arm in arm with Damian.
He chuckled then pecked her cheek.
“Perhaps in Pullman,” I suggested.
Chapter Fifteen
Two days later, I parked the van alongside the road on the Bishop Ford Freeway. Joe placed the emergency cone the required distance from the van to avoid collisions. Then he helped Damian carry William’s body down the embankment, through shrubs and between trees onto E 103rd Street below. Once we were all on the street, we saw an old, burnt-out car to our right with boards stuck on streetlamps: College to Career and Malcom for Mayor. Then up the road was a parked vehicle. Everyone stopped and stared at it for a second. I couldn’t see anyone inside, as it was too dark, but something felt strange about it.
Damian stood on one side with Joe on the other, and they opened the tarp. Williams’s body rolled out onto the sidewalk. He looked like any other vagrant. He was the alcoholic driver who had killed Damian’s wife.
I was about to say something when a man came from the shadows near the burnt car. “High alert, guys!” I shouted.
I knew they would eventually find me; I just didn’t think they had the brains to piece the pattern together so soon.
Another man crawled from the gap between the bridge and the cement column and climbed down. Then one came from behind the cement column to our right, and another stood up from the ground and threw off the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders. The way the four of them walked with that air of superiority and neatly pressed clothing screamed FBI agents.
“Kill them all!” I yelled.
Chaos erupted.
Aika was the first to react and, on instinct, threw her knife at the agent who approached her. The knife hit his chest and most likely punctured his lung and an artery.
He collapsed to the ground with a loud thud, followed by gargling sounds, as he took his last breath.
Two agents fired but missed us.
I was impressed and shocked at the same time; even though the agents were skilled, they didn’t hit any of us. Perhaps it was the element of surprise and that we were more than they had anticipated.
To my left, Damian jumped onto an agent, aimed his weapon at his face and blasted his brains out. Then he rode the agent’s body to the ground like he was a rodeo steer wrestler.
A smile tugged on one side of my mouth as I watched this unfold.
An agent ran toward Joe, who fought with him, but Joe was bigger and got the agent on the ground and pummeled his face.
With three of the four agents now dead, I yelled, “Everybody else, get back to the van, now!”
Everyone obeyed, but Joe stayed with me. We would take care of the remaining agent. We took turns hitting him, then, when we had him on the ground, I towered over him and raised my firearm. We had hit him so hard his eyes were swollen, and his jaw had shifted to one side. My heart was thumping in my chest, yet I remained stoically calm. I glanced at Joe; his chest rose and fell as he sucked in deep, cool breaths. We wore our masks, but I knew he was smiling beneath his.
The sound of boots clicking on the sidewalk alerted us to an unnoticed fifth agent. Joe and I glanced up simultaneously at the person running toward us.
“Well, what do we have here?” I muttered and licked my lips at the sultry woman heading toward us. This was almost too easy. She had worn a tailored suit to a stakeout, and I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry. She wasn’t as prepared for battle as the other four were.
She glanced at the man on the ground then at us, and I smelled how nervous she was. Sweat beaded her forehead. She was just a baby agent.
When she neared, the man on the ground moaned. “You should’ve stayed in the car, Dana,” he mumbled even though his lips were thick and his jaw broken.
I barely caught her name, but suspected he had said, Dana.
The woman gasped when she saw her colleague and stepped closer.
Even though Joe liked his rifles, he always carried a hunting knife similar to mine. He lunged at the woman and caught her in her side, and she crashed down. She glanced at the wound as blood ruined her white blouse then scowled at Joe. Her eyes flittered from his mask to the sharp blade he held as it dripped with her blood.
Joe was about to attack her again when I stuck out my arm and shook my head.
Towering over the woman, I could only imagine how scared my pig mask was in the shadows. I had inked additional black parts of the eyes and around the mouth, making it look demonic.
This tiny bird, with her startling, vivid honey-colored eyes, panned from Joe then me.
In the dark night, I saw her smooth pale skin waiting for my touch as I dreamed of combing my fingers through her soft brown hair. I wanted to caress every inch of her body while she quivered beneath me.
“Let me have this one,” I said sadistically and closed the gap between me and my prey.
She fell back onto her elbows and failed miserably to escape.
I was quicker and on top of her before she could move too far away. As I straddled her waist and my hands pinned her shoulders, I said, “I agree with him.” I jerked my chin in the agent's direction who was lying on the ground unmoving. “You should’ve stayed in the car”—I leaned cl
oser to her face—“Dana,” I said with a dark undertone.
She whimpered in response.
It got me hard as I pressed my body against hers and into the cold concrete. “But I’m glad you came out to play with me. Now I can see what you look like up close.” I flicked open my switchblade and ran it along her jawline. I repeated the motion but applied pressure. Like a hot knife through soft butter, I made my mark against her soft, delicate flesh. I was so hard against my zipper it hurt. I wanted to take her right then, more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life.
The delicious red liquid ran down her slender neck.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t kill this one. I wanted to keep her. I wanted all of her. “Stay down if you want to live, or I will see you again, sweetness, and I won’t be as gentle as I am right now,” I taunted, whispering my words near the shell of her ear as she bit her cries. I was sure she was praying.
I smiled as I stood and motioned for Joe to follow me. “Come. There’s nothing left for us to do here.” I stared down at my woman. I would be back for her.
“Are you crazy? You’re leaving a witness behind,” Joe complained.
“Now!” I barked then kicked the agent in the ribs. The distinct crack of bones echoed as my steel-tipped boot connected with his side.
The agent was either knocked out or dead, I didn’t care, but it felt good to get in the last word.
Joe and I left the same way we had come, but, before disappearing into the darkness, I turned to stare at my woman one last time and the beauty of my mark on her face as the red highlighted her brown eyes and chestnut hair. I wanted her all for myself. And I wanted her to remember me forever. Every time she looked into the mirror, I wanted her to see me, to see the person who had marked her for the rest of her life. I wanted her to know I would be back for her. I would find out everything there was to know about her and wouldn’t stop until she was mine.
Chapter Sixteen
“What the hell, Travis? You left a witness behind. You realize she’ll come after us now?” Joe complained beside me as I drove us to the bar.
“Don’t worry so much, Joe. I have a plan.” I smirked.
“I hope so.” He crossed his arms. “That was too close.”
Joe could act like such a child sometimes that I wanted to punch him in the face.
“They were waiting for us back there.” Dafne’s voice quivered, sounding distant. “How did they know we would be there?”
“I was there, Dafne.” I winked darkly at her, but she didn’t see the humor in it. “But did you get hurt?” I eyed them in the rearview mirror. “You guys did well. I mean it. You all worked together, and we fucked them up.” I fisted the roof.
Neal bit his bottom lip.
Damian and Aika whispered in the back of the van, stealing glances at me.
I had to put their minds at ease, otherwise I might lose them—and I couldn’t allow that to happen. Not now, not when things were going so well for us. It was only one little incident, and we got away without any of us getting hurt. We were better than the agents.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault they were there. I took my eye off the ball by not monitoring them today. I was busy with a few things.” Like ensuring my company stayed mine and putting those monsters’ minds at ease that Gregory had indeed retired to an island and wouldn’t be returning. Ever. “Don’t worry. After tonight, nobody will be after us. I’ll make sure of it. And besides, we’ll dispose the bodies another way after tonight. I have another plan.”
“What plan?” Joe’s words were cold, and even though it was a question, I caught the threat he laced them with.
“I messed up, Joe, and I’ve already apologized.” I glared at him. “Guys …” I stared at the others. “It won’t happen again. And you’re right.” I took the next exit off the interstate. “I need to share my plans with you if we’re going to be a team.”
“Damn straight,” Damian interjected.
“My family owns land on the other side of Chicago Ridge. It’s about a forty-minute drive where we’ll have all the privacy we’ll need.”
“Why didn’t you mention this sooner?” The lines between Joe’s eyes deepened.
“I was busy having walls built around the property, and they only finished two days ago. Now that you’ve avenged your loved ones, we can really get down to ridding the earth with the scum that’s spreading like a cancer.”
“What do you have in mind, Travis?” Dafne sounded more relaxed than before.
“This weekend, I want you to come to my reserve, see what it looks like, and let me know if you want anything added. We can enjoy our hunts and have some fun. I’ve already requested they build a tower for where we can start from—make the perp climb down a rope before he runs away from us.” I chuckled at the thought. The person would be too exhausted to run away from us. I parked the van near the side door to the bar.
“Guys, do you mind if I skip this round?” Dafne opened the van door and stepped out.
“Are you okay?” I climbed out and followed her to her car.
“I’m just tired, you know? I guess having the FBI on our asses kinda killed my mood, and I just want to go home.” She sounded deflated as she stared at her clothing. “And shower.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah …” She averted her eyes.
“Are you sure nothing else is wrong?”
“No, Travis. I swear, I’m really just tired.” She stared at me for a heartbeat, her mouth pressed into a forced smile then turned to get into her car.
“You know what? Aika and I will also be going,” Damian said.
“Not you too?”
“We’ll have one drink before we head home, Travis. It was a long night.” Joe opened the door to the bar, and Neal followed.
After Joe and Neal left after their one drink, I walked the few blocks home. The air smelled of fast food and sweat as I passed restaurants and a gas station. Ladies of the night offered me their best prices, but I politely declined while their Big Daddy’s eyeballed me—flexing their ’roid-filled muscles. Ignoring them, I continued down the street, under the “L” then stopped when I heard mumbling.
“Hey, you. I know you.” The drunkard from the health and wellness center pointed a crooked finger at me.
“Haven’t I warned you already?” I stopped to wait for him.
He walked with a limp, dragging his bad leg behind him. His torn clothing was dirty, and I smelled his stench from where I stood.
“For what? All I remember is you owe me money for hitting me.” He had light bruising from where I had hit him, and he shoved a dirty finger into my chest.
I grabbed it and twisted his hand backward.
He grunted and cried out in pain.
“I owe you nothing. You are a waste of human flesh, a disease that needs a vaccine. Luckily for you, I have what you need.”
“Yeah?” he croaked, nursing his hand against his chest.
I surveyed the area to ensure we were alone, pulled my hunting knife from its sheath and gripped his shoulder.
He shuddered beneath my touch.
In quick successions, I stabbed him multiple times in the side—that sweet sucking sound as I withdrew the knife.
He doubled over and grasped my arm with his bony hands, but I pushed him backward until he tripped over stone. He fell, hit hard against the concrete, cradled his wound and lay in the fetal position. “What did you do that for?”
“You don’t listen much, do you? You’re the type who only knows how to take, take, take. You have never given anything to anyone.”
The old man’s eyes glistened in the evening light, his mouth in a tight line from the pain I had inflicted.
“Yeah, just what I thought.” I grabbed his dirty shirt.
He flinched from the contact or was afraid I would stab him again, but I only needed to clean my knife. “Nothing but rubbish. You’re right where you belong.” I turned on my heel and left him to die in the gutter.
When I got home, I went straight to my office to search for my mystery woman by using Doe. This was the part the agencies wanted, but I didn’t want to share it with them just yet—or ever. I still wanted to do so much with the system, so I couldn’t just hand it over. And that’s why Gregory had to pay the price with his life for turning against me.
I searched the program for the unit who had been assigned to tonight’s case. There were three other units, two farther up the interstate and one below, in case we stopped at those parts. They were smart; I had to give credit where it was due. I even considered those areas but preferred the isolated road we had used tonight. But what I most wanted was the unit on our street. And there was only one woman. Her name blinked at me in black bold letters.
Dana Mulder.
Dana.
Mulder.
Her name rolled off my tongue like honey—the color of her eyes. Heat crept up my spine, and I adjusted myself in my seat.
Dana was a newly recruited intelligence analyst for the FBI, and she chose my case to be her first. It was probably she who figured out my pattern and suggested the four areas. I smiled knowingly.
I was her first.
I thought it was only fitting to be her first of many things.
Those thoughts reverberated throughout my body as I imagined her. In that moment, I needed to know more about her; I had to own every piece of information on her. I clicked a few keys and pressed Enter and waited for my program to do what it did well—search.
The machine pinged when it found her. Every picture in the database littered my four screens, and I browsed every one of them, starting with the twenty pictures her parents had tagged her in on their social media pages, from when she was a baby, and ended with a current picture of her staring at the camera. Her smile was captivating as her hair fell loosely around her bare shoulders. What stood out was her wondrously lustrous eyes. The honey-brown color shone brightly, reflecting the warmth of the sun, but the soul behind those eyes drew me in. A deeper connection existed between us that I had never felt before with anyone. Staring at her picture reminded me of the moment our eyes had met as I towered above her on that dark street. She seemed so small and frightened as she held my penetrating gaze through the pig mask with her confident one. Which meant she needed intense encouragement if I wanted to make her mine. A little extra coaxing didn’t hurt anyone—too much. I grinned. She may be a few years younger, but she had a world of experience I wanted to explore further.