Empty Is the Grave

by Candle Sutton

  It was exhilarating.

  And exhausting.

  At least it was almost over.

  With the exception of two men, who had been sent back to the tunnel on McCloud’s Beach, all the SWAT guys had disappeared into the building in front of them, which looked like it could come down on their heads at any second. He’d found himself with the rest of the police and the Coasties, securing and containing the twenty-eight men on the ground.

  Well, technically twenty-four.

  Four had been shot during the takedown.

  No sign of the inmates, though. Were they in the tunnel that supposedly ran beneath them? Or hiding in one of the buildings dotting the island?

  Or dead in some remote location?

  Hopefully they hadn’t gotten away. It’d be a shame to have an escape mar the victory of all these arrests.

  He glanced around to see that all the men on the ground had been restrained. A Coastie was securing what appeared to be the final prisoner.

  Now what?

  Did they wait for SWAT, who was running this op? Or the Marshals, who technically would have jurisdiction over this group?

  “Listen up, everyone.” Morgan moved to the center of the group and raised his voice.

  That figured. Morgan wasn’t one to wait for someone else to take the lead.

  “We’re gonna move these guys to the boat and get them secured.” His gaze swept over various law enforcement officers surrounding him. “Each of you takes charge of no more than four men. I figure the Marshals brought a boat big enough to accommodate these guys, so let’s head for that. Any questions?”

  No one said anything.

  Then again, Morgan’s tone didn’t really invite questions.

  “Then let’s move.” He shifted his gaze downward. “Everyone on your feet. Try anything and you will be shot.”

  “Hey.” Zander stepped up beside Morgan. “I figure a few of us oughta stay behind in case anyone makes it past the SWAT guys.”

  It was unlikely to happen, but it always paid to take precautions. Plus, there might’ve been some hiding places inside the building that SWAT hadn’t found. That seemed a far likelier scenario than someone getting past SWAT.

  Morgan nodded. “Good thinking. ‘Sides, we don’t know how many people are down there. They might need extra hands.”

  Very true.

  Morgan pointed to two Coasties standing nearby. “You two. Stay here with Zander and keep an eye on things.”

  Either Morgan forgot that he didn’t have seniority or jurisdiction here, or he just didn’t care.

  Knowing Morgan, it’d be the latter.

  Thankfully, neither Coastie seemed to mind.

  At least not that they showed.

  Morgan led the rest of the team off, prisoners in tow, leaving Zander and the two Coasties to watch what appeared to be a vacant building.

  But he knew very well how deceiving appearances could be.

  They could take nothing for granted. Doing so might prove fatal.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Rafe watched as a man appeared on the trail leading down from the prison. The dark jacket with a splash of bright yellow on the left chest marked him as a Marshal.

  The Marshal was followed by another man, this one not wearing an official jacket. That man was followed by another, and another.

  In fact, it appeared to be a caravan.

  Headed their way.

  Had they stopped the group who’d hunted them down all morning? Was this nightmare finally over?

  What if the group had gotten the drop on them? What if they’d killed the Marshals and stolen the jacket in order to approach the boats without resistance?

  It’d be a pretty clever ruse, actually.

  His gut clenched, the churning having nothing to do with the boat rocking beneath him.

  They were sitting ducks here.

  Sure, the captain was a cop. And armed. But if the group took him by surprise, they could kill him, all of them really, before anyone realized what had happened.

  He watched the group snake down the pathway.

  Dang. There were a lot of them.

  If they weren’t in custody, this could turn really ugly really fast.

  He looked over at Josiah, who continued to watch the sky. Did he see something?

  “Hey.” He hissed the word, not wanting to draw too much attention.

  Josiah lowered his eyes.

  “Those guys comin’ down the trail. They cool?”

  He wasn’t sure why he even cared. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, all handcuffed to the boat like he was.

  Still, if death was headed his way, he wanted to know about it.

  White teeth flashed as Josiah grinned. “They’re on our side and the enemy is beaten back.”

  The enemy. Was he just talking about the spiritual? “Humans, too?”

  Josiah landed a warm hand on his shoulder. “Yes, my brother. Do not worry so much. God holds us all.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, I know. But bad junk still happens. Even to God’s people.”

  “That’s true, but perhaps we just need to redefine good and bad. When we see things from God’s perspective, it changes the world.” Josiah’s smile slid and his face turned serious. “Besides, this life is short. What we do here matters, but we’ll soon shed these fleshy shells.”

  True as that may be, there were still things he wanted to accomplish here, in this fleshy shell. He wasn’t ready to die.

  At least it didn’t sound like his number was up today.

  Josiah said the enemy had been beaten. Both in the spiritual and the physical realm.

  The group descending from Alcatraz drew closer.

  Yeah, now he recognized the face of the guy leading the group. One of the Marshals.

  In fact, the Marshals were interspersed throughout and the guys they escorted all had their hands behind their backs.

  Funny that he didn’t see any orange jump suits.

  Where were the rest of the guys he came with?

  Ice slid down his spine.

  Could there really only be five survivors?

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Viktor raced down the tunnel.

  The cops were hot on his heels! When they’d captured his men outside the Model Industries Building, he’d barely managed to evade their sight.

  Each step away from his men reminded him that he’d abandoned them to their fate.

  All his men. Except for the few that Oksana had left down here, they were all in custody.

  And Oksana?

  He had no clue where she was. She hadn’t been up top, but she hadn’t planned to stay below ground either.

  Could they have caught her?

  Maybe she’d get away.

  Maybe the cops would let her go.

  If he knew her, she’d try to convince them she was a victim. And if she got the right cop, and played up the helpless female card, she might pull it off.

  Helpless. Ha!

  If only they knew.

  He reached the metal door, which was closed, and pushed on it.

  It didn’t budge.

  No! This was his only chance!

  He couldn’t go back.

  Pounding on the door did nothing but send shooting pains up his arm.

  He pushed the button on his com and spoke in Russian. “Open the door! Hurry!”

  No response.

  He knelt and started on the lock, which would only work if they hadn’t barricaded the door from the inside.

  Which, quite likely, they had.

  Furtive movements from the tunnel behind him confirmed that the cops were still in pursuit. The tunnel’s acoustics made it impossible to tell how close they were, but they couldn’t be far off.

  The lock wasn’t giving.

  Probably because his hands were shaking too badly to make any progress. Still, he couldn’t give up.

  It seemed like the footsteps were getting closer.

  What should he do?


  Make his last stand and fight? Or surrender?

  Two options. Both of them bad.

  But he had no desire to die today. Besides, if Oksana made it out of this, she’d get him out. Somehow.

  They still had friends in high places in Russia. Surely she could pull some strings and get him extradited.

  “Drop your weapon! Hands where I can see them!”

  A voice buffeted behind him.

  He started, dropping the lock pick.

  Moment of truth.

  Fight or surrender?

  Life, even life in custody, was better than being shot.

  He put his hands above his head. “Don’t shoot.”

  “Stand up slowly. Hands against the wall.”

  He faced the wall and put his palms flat against the damp concrete.

  “No sudden movements or I will shoot you. Do you understand?”

  He clenched his teeth.

  Of course he understood! He wasn’t an idiot.

  Still, unless he wanted a bullet in his back, he better play by their rules. “Yes.”

  Someone frisked him, removing the Ruger strapped to his ankle, then wrestled his arms behind his back. Plastic cut into his skin as they secured his wrists.

  He was jostled aside, passed down the line until at least half a dozen cops in tactical gear stood between him and what was left of his crew.

  It was over.

  They’d had a good run, but today their luck had run out.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Waiting was torture.

  While he didn’t long for a fight, or even a takedown, Zander hated standing around.

  It’d been ten minutes since Morgan and the rest of the Coasties had left with the prisoners. Probably about thirteen minutes since the SWAT guys had disappeared into the building.

  In that time, no one had come or gone from the deathtrap in front of him. The building stood as broken and lonely as it ever had, with no sign of life in or around it.

  “We’ve got runners!”

  Zander jerked as a voice blared through his earpiece.

  “Down the tunnel. Beta, coming your way!”

  Team Beta was at McCloud’s Beach. SWAT had only put two guys there. Hopefully there weren’t a lot of runners heading for them.

  Should he go to assist?

  He rejected the thought. By the time he made it to McCloud’s Beach, it’d all be over. One way or another.

  Besides, there was still a chance, however unlikely, that someone might emerge here. If that happened, he needed to be ready.

  He wished he could hear – or better yet, see – what was going on.

  Had the runners gotten away?

  Had anyone been hurt?

  Silence dominated.

  All he wanted was an update.

  Come on, guys. Any time.

  “Suspects in custody.”

  A breath whooshed from him.

  He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it.

  “Anyone got eyes on the woman?”

  Woman? What was…?

  That’s right. The leader was supposedly a beautiful woman.

  “Negative. She’s not with you?” Sounded like one of the guys from Team Beta.

  “Not in the cave.”

  “You talking about the lady who came running out of the tunnel?”

  Zander didn’t recognize the voice. But then again, he didn’t know most of these guys.

  “You saw her?”

  “She said she was one of the taggers and needed to get home. I have a guy escorting her to the boats.”

  Silence lasted for the space of several heartbeats.

  “She’s not a tagger! She’s the leader!” The exclamation was punctuated by a few choice words. “Get your guy on the horn. Tell him to take her into custody.”

  “Affirmative. I’ll respond with confirmation.”

  Zander forced his fingers to relax. They’d have her in custody momentarily.

  Why didn’t that make him feel any better?

  Seventeen

  She needed to get away from this clown. Find her own way off this rock. One that didn’t involve traveling with a bunch of cops or inmates who might recognize her and give her up.

  Scratch that. There was no might.

  If she ended up on a boat with those inmates, they’d turn her in. Guaranteed.

  She’d never been more aware of the gun strapped to her right ankle. Or the knife she’d strapped to her left calf.

  Not that she could go for either one.

  The slightest suspicious move and this Marshal would search her. Or shoot her.

  Both responses were equally undesirable.

  She could take him down in hand to hand combat, but he was behind her. Turning toward him would arouse suspicion, putting him on the defense.

  But a diversion might work.

  That broken asphalt straight ahead should do the trick.

  As she stepped onto the uneven surface, she rolled her ankle. Flailing her arms, she teetered before going down.

  Pain shot into her hip and up her spine.

  The impact was more jarring than she’d expected.

  “You okay?” The Marshal’s even tone revealed none of his thoughts.

  He might be suspicious. He might be concerned. He might not even care one bit. She couldn’t tell.

  Well, time to play this up for all she was worth.

  She massaged her ankle. “I think I sprained it.”

  The Marshal surveyed the terrain before kneeling beside her. “Let me help you up.”

  She lashed out with her foot, her shoe striking his assault rifle, which sent the gun flying.

  Before he could recover, she launched herself at him.

  He teetered sideways and toppled to the ground.

  She planted a knee in his back and put all her weight into it, then wrapped her arm around his neck in a choke hold.

  Clawing at her arm, he wheezed.

  In spite of his obvious size and strength advantage, he was in no position to win this battle.

  She tightened her hold.

  His struggling weakened, then he went limp.

  As much as she wanted to finish him, she valued her freedom far more. If they caught up with her before she could find a way off the island, they were far less likely to use lethal force if she left him alive.

  She scrambled off his back, grabbed his hands, and dragged him toward the closest pocket of shrubs.

  Once he was sufficiently concealed, she looked down the trail.

  Where to?

  The obvious answer would be the dock area, where she could maybe steal a boat and get away.

  But the dock was likely crawling with more US Marshals, cops, and who knew what other manner of trouble.

  She sure couldn’t take them all down.

  Her crew’s rafts were still on McCloud’s Beach, but that area, too, was teeming with law enforcement.

  She cursed softly.

  This stupid island! With all the rocky bluffs and limited access points, it eliminated pretty much every other option.

  Calm.

  She forced a deep breath.

  Emotion was the enemy of rational thought. She needed to think this through.

  Okay. The dock was still her best plan. Maybe she could wait until the bulk of the law enforcement officers had headed back to the cave.

  It’d take most of them to move all her men to the boats, right? And the few remaining on the boats would have their hands full watching their captives, so surely she could evade their notice long enough to steal a boat.

  It was the best plan she had.

  Bending, she retrieved the assault rifle the Marshal had dropped when she’d ambushed him.

  She’d head for the dock. And watch for her moment.

  If she had to take down a few people to get outta here, then she’d take them down. It was that simple.

  She would not go quietly.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  The Marshals had looked please
d.

  Josiah watched as a group of them passed by the boat, headed back onto the island.

  Only a few minutes ago, they’d marched thirty five men – he’d counted – toward the ship they’d arrived on.

  How many could the Marshals fit on that ship?

  Judging by the size of it, quite a few.

  And judging by the Marshals’ reactions, there were still more prisoners waiting for transport.

  Josiah looked toward the island.

  His heart stuttered.

  A vortex of darkness swirled like a massive twister.

  The Father’s warriors pressed in on all sides but weren’t near the epicenter of the column, which advanced in a predatory fashion.

  Like a snake stalking a mouse.

  The vortex could mean only one thing. A demonic commander.

  He’d encountered one once before, only once, and it had been the most intense battle of his life.

  This was why the Father had called him out. To confront the human to which the commander was attached, free him or her, and dispatch the demon.

  Father, give me strength.

  He turned to Rafe and fixed him with a firm stare. “Pray. This battle is not over yet.”

  Color slid from Rafe’s cheeks. “Wha–what do I pray for?”

  “That God will strengthen His forces, protect the innocent, and fortify the warriors.” He hesitated for a second before adding, “And that He would guide me. I’m going in.”

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Each second carried the weight of an eternity.

  Zander shifted between his feet, which contained an uncharacteristic restlessness.

  The woman was out there. The one who, by all accounts, had started this whole mess.

  What if she’d gotten away from the Marshal? What if she was out there somewhere, waiting to cut down a bunch of them in a hail of bullets?

  She could be watching them right now from one of the buildings.

  Lining up her shot, fingering the trigger…

  Stop!

  But seriously, shouldn’t the Marshal have checked in by now? How long did it take to confirm that they still had the woman in their sights? Or, better yet, that she was in custody?

  “No response from my deputy. My team is checking on him.”

  No response.