Empty Is the Grave

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Empty Is the Grave Page 21

by Candle Sutton


  In Zander’s mind, that could only mean one thing.

  She’d taken that deputy down and gotten away.

  He couldn’t stand here and do nothing! Not with Josiah, and Rafe, waiting on those boats. They’d be easy pickings for someone who was armed and had hostile intent.

  He looked at the two Coasties with him.

  They seemed competent. Especially the older one, the one who was clearly seasoned.

  Heck, to even be in the Coast Guard, they’d gone through extensive training. Both should be proficient with weapons.

  Good enough.

  It’d have to be.

  Besides, no one was coming back here.

  “I’m headed back to the ships to check on things. You guys got this?”

  The more seasoned Coastie nodded. “Yeah. You go ahead.”

  He jogged up the hill toward the hulking stone prison.

  If he found the woman along his route, great, but she was not his primary objective.

  No, getting back to the docks meant a whole lot more. There were two men of incalculable value to him sitting on those boats.

  If someone wanted to harm them, that person would have to go through him.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  A tree branch scratched Oksana’s arm as she pushed through the foliage. She should be almost…

  There!

  She peered through the foliage at the dock.

  One large and two medium sized boats were tethered to the pilings. A much larger vessel, emblazoned with the words “US Coast Guard” anchored further offshore.

  From here, she could clearly see multiple people on each of the boats.

  Several small motorized rafts bobbed empty beside the dock, taunting her.

  But there was no chance she’d get to them, much less fire one up and take it out, unnoticed.

  So what if they noticed her? Those boats were a little distance away. Sure, they’d see her, but could they act fast enough to stop her before she got away?

  An image of being shot flashed through her mind.

  Yeah, they probably could stop her.

  She clenched her fingers into a fist.

  Now what?

  Her freedom wasn’t worth a darn thing if she couldn’t get off this island!

  The longer she waited, the more likely her freedom would be short lived. With the number of cops and agents and Coasties traipsing about, there was no chance she’d escape capture. It was only a matter of time.

  So, the choice before her was to make a break for the boats here or lay low until she could make it to the rafts she’d left on McCloud’s Beach.

  Wait! If she were wearing a US Marshals’ jacket, that should prevent her from being recognized. At least long enough to get to the rafts. Once she was in the raft, she could jet out of here.

  It was her best shot.

  She eased out of the brush and retraced her steps to where she’d left the unconscious Marshal.

  Man, did she hope no one had found him.

  Why hadn’t she thought to grab his jacket and cap before?

  Voices came from ahead on the trail.

  She darted behind the closest building.

  “They gotta be around here somewhere.” A man’s voice carried on the wind.

  “But why hasn’t Mason answered his com? I got a bad feeling about this.” A woman’s voice this time.

  Mason.

  That was the name of the Marshal she’d taken down, wasn’t it?

  Well, if they were still looking for him, it meant they hadn’t found him yet. And he likely hadn’t woken up.

  Good news all the way around.

  Assuming she could get to him before either of those things happened.

  The voices faded as the two deputies moved past her location.

  She slipped out from behind the building, glancing both ways before continuing up the trail.

  Almost there.

  She spotted the grove where she’d hidden the deputy and picked her way through the brush. The man sprawled precisely where she’d left him.

  Stripping him of his jacket, she slid it on, then reached for his hat.

  It’d probably be best to hide her hair. There couldn’t be that many females with the Marshals.

  Dropping the hat on the ground, she pulled her hairband from her pocket and twisted her hair back into a bun before retrieving the cap. It was a tight fit over her bun, and probably bulged at the back, so she’d have to hope no one looked too closely.

  Then again, two of her could fit inside the jacket, with room to spare, so anyone looking closely would figure out that these weren’t her clothes.

  She’d simply have to get away before anyone figured that piece out.

  A quick check up and down the trail revealed that it was still clear.

  Okay. Now back to the question of which direction to go. To the dock or her boats on the beach?

  The beach.

  Fewer boats to chase her once she got out to sea. Especially if she slashed the extra rafts on her way by.

  She could hide nearby, wait for the area to mostly clear out, then head for the boats.

  Hopefully anyone who saw her would assume she was looking for fugitives or evidence.

  If not, she still had the gun she’d taken off the Marshal. And her handgun and knife.

  They wouldn’t stop her. She wouldn’t allow it.

  And if they somehow managed to get that lucky, she’d take a bunch of them down with her.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  The battle raged overhead.

  Josiah kept an eye on it as he hiked up the trail, half expecting opposition to drop in front of him.

  The prayers filling his mind hadn’t stopped since he’d left home that morning and had only intensified as he approached the battle zone.

  He didn’t know what awaited him, but he could tell the enemy was strong.

  Good thing God was stronger.

  Hide.

  The word whispered through his soul.

  He stepped into a long-abandoned building and watched as two US Marshals walked by.

  While he was doing nothing wrong, he knew enough to be certain that the Marshals wouldn’t like him getting in their way. Yet they knew nothing about the spiritual threat facing everyone on this island, a threat that he had been called to tackle head-on.

  He stepped out of the building and continued on his path.

  At least the black vortex made it easy to see where he was going.

  It loomed closer.

  A few more minutes and he’d be there.

  Father, go before me.

  Something told him this would be a war like none he’d ever faced.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Zander reached the dock in record time.

  Labored breathing evidenced how hard he’d pushed himself to get there. Heck, he’d jogged by two Marshals like they were out for a Sunday stroll.

  No sign of trouble out here.

  Certainly no gun-toting, Russian-speaking beauties hanging out waiting to be arrested.

  He hurried past the boat the SWAT team had arrived on, glancing over at the inmates waiting on board. Nothing looked amiss.

  Approaching the boat that had brought him to the island, he caught sight of the pink-haired girl, her lanky friend, and Rafe.

  Where was Josiah?

  A weight settled in his chest, crushing his lungs so that it was hard to draw in breaths.

  Where. Was. Josiah?

  He carefully crossed the way-too-narrow walkway bridging the gap between the boat and the dock.

  The last thing he needed was to lose his footing and fall into the water below.

  Once on board, he approached Rafe. “Hey. How’s everything?”

  The tendons in Rafe’s neck stood out and Zander could see his pulse jackhammering. “Josiah said to pray. That there’s a battle.”

  The weight in his chest intensified.

  A battle.

  With Josiah, that could only mean one thing.

&nb
sp; He looked at the sky but, of course, saw nothing. He never did.

  “How long ago did he leave?”

  “Five minutes?” Rafe drew in a shuddery breath. “I dunno. But I don’t like it one bit.”

  He wasn’t the only one.

  Zander raked his fingers back and forth through his hair. “Keep praying, bro. I’m gonna find him.”

  And, God willing, bring him home alive.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Oksana clenched her fist as the US Marshals led her crew down the path, mere feet from the tree she’d quickly scaled when she’d heard them coming.

  The tree bark scratched her back, but at least the branch she straddled was steady.

  If any of them looked up, they’d see her.

  A breath seeped from her as Viktor came into view.

  She’d failed them. Her team. Her family.

  They had all looked to her for leadership yet when the heat came down, she’d run like a coward.

  And allowed her crew to be captured.

  But what was she to do? Try to make a stand against several dozen members of law enforcement?

  She thought about jumping out of the tree and sending a flurry of bullets into the Marshals, but it’d never work. Not only would she hit her own guys, one of the Marshals would take her down.

  It was suicide.

  No. Escape was her best option. For both herself, and them.

  Once she got out, she could use her contacts to get her crew sent back to Russia, where she could set them up with new papers and then bring them back to continue the work.

  The last Marshal passed beneath her, but she didn’t move.

  Best to stay in place until they were further away.

  And until she could verify that no other members of law enforcement were right behind them.

  Through the leafy branches surrounding her, she scoped out the trail on both sides.

  Empty.

  Time to move.

  Hopefully the presence of all these Marshals meant that the beach was clear.

  Staying close to the edge of the path, she darted up the trail, encountering no one.

  McCloud’s Beach was right over that ridge.

  She knelt behind the large rocks bordering the path and surveyed the beach.

  Two men stood outside the cave entrance, the uniforms identifying them as Coasties. No one else was in sight.

  Well, at least they wouldn’t know she wasn’t a Marshal.

  Now all she had to do was make it to those boats.

  Rising, she pulled back her shoulders and marched toward the boats.

  It was all about attitude. If she acted like she belonged here, people would be far less likely to question her.

  Still, she fully expected someone to interfere. Any minute someone would yell at her to stop. Question her about who she was and what she was doing.

  She kept her eyes moving.

  The two Coasties over by the tunnel had looked at her for a few seconds, then continued whatever they were discussing.

  No sign of any other Marshals or cops.

  Could it be this easy?

  She was over halfway there.

  Movement in her peripheral!

  She jerked to find a lanky African-American dude traversing the jagged, rocky ground as easily as he might a paved path. His trajectory intentionally intersected her path, cutting off her means of escape.

  No uniform, so he didn’t belong to any of the law enforcement groups on the island.

  Besides, she’d never seen a member of law enforcement with dreadlocks.

  Ignore him.

  If he wasn’t law enforcement, he wasn’t a threat. And if he tried to stop her, she’d take him down.

  She adjusted her course slightly to avoid him, and picked up the pace, moving as quickly as she dared over the slick, uneven ground.

  She sensed him getting closer, saw his movement angling toward her. Suddenly, he was in front of her.

  “No farther.” His voice rang with more authority than most men who did wear uniforms possessed.

  In spite of herself, her steps stalled.

  What was she doing?

  And who the heck did he think he was, ordering her around like that?

  He had no idea who he was messing with! But he would. She’d show him.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Josiah stared at the woman in front of him.

  Disguising herself as a Marshal was clever. In fact, it appeared to have fooled everyone else. But no one else could see the seething black vortex hovering over her.

  In the middle of that darkness, loomed the largest demon he’d ever seen.

  Breathing the air around her was like breathing diesel exhaust. It burned his lungs and hung there, each breath feeling more labored than the last.

  Josiah shifted his attention from the woman to the monster.

  “You are no match for me, you pathetic little worm.” The demon’s voice rumbled from a chest twice as big as the two demons Josiah had battled earlier. “I will crush you.”

  If the matter wasn’t so serious, he might have laughed.

  It didn’t matter that this demon was powerful. Nor that it commanded the army currently being beaten back by God’s warriors. The demon couldn’t touch him.

  And they both knew it.

  He stared straight into the black void-like eyes. A shudder ripped down his spine at the evil he saw there. The demon growled, raising the hairs on the back of Josiah’s neck.

  “Say something, you worthless little man. If you can.”

  Josiah said nothing.

  Instead, he prayed.

  The demon winced as though struck.

  How it all worked was still a mystery to Josiah, even after all this time, but he’d learned long ago that his prayers were felt across the spiritual plain. By the forces of heaven, yes, but also by the forces of darkness.

  The demon’s colorless lips stretched to reveal razor teeth.

  It hunched over the woman as though to shield her, not that demons were prone to protecting anyone but themselves.

  No, it was up to something.

  The demon stretched spindly fingers that looked like dead tree limbs into the woman’s head. “He’s nothing. Push past him and get out of here. Before the police arrive.”

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Why was he looking beyond her?

  Oksana resisted the urge to follow his gaze.

  It was a ruse, a feeble attempt to get her to drop her guard. She’d turn and wham! He’d tackle her or something.

  There was no one behind her. No way anyone could be behind her.

  She refused to fall for his schemes.

  If she wanted to avoid capture, she needed to push past him and get to those boats.

  “Out of my way.” She spoke slowly, her words containing a warning most knew better than to test.

  He turned his full attention on her. “You will go nowhere.”

  That’s what he thought.

  She held the automatic weapon loosely at her side, ready to bring it up if he made the slightest threatening move. “If you want to survive the day, you’ll turn around and tell no one of this exchange.”

  “No.” The one word dropped like the flash grenades she’d heard earlier.

  No? No!

  He dared defy her? “I will kill you.”

  “You have no power over me.” His eyes looked from her to the space above her head.

  Did he think she was so stupid?

  She glanced over at the Coasties, who seemed oblivious to the exchange, and shifted the gun, keeping it low and shielded by her body.

  “You still think I have no power? Look at me!” The words hissed from her with all the frustration building inside.

  He looked at her and smiled.

  Smiled!

  Did he think she was kidding?

  Surely he was mocking her!

  She should shoot him now. Be done with it. Wipe that smile off his face with a bullet.

  That’d s
how him who had the power around here.

  Yet firing the gun would draw all sorts of attention, attention she couldn’t afford to draw.

  There was always her knife, but it was still strapped to her calf. Accessing it would leave her open to attack, which was an unacceptable risk.

  “My sister.” His tone was gentle. Kind even. And maybe a little sad? “You have listened to lies for so long. Wouldn’t you like to hear the truth?”

  A short laugh burst from her.

  Was this really happening? Standing here on a beach, with her men all captured, bodies on the ground and cops all around, and this man was offering to tell her the truth?

  “You want truth? The truth is you’re a dead man if you don’t move. Right. Now.”

  Enough talk! Just shoot him!

  The thoughts pulsed through her brain.

  Her finger twitched.

  If she pulled this trigger, everyone within earshot would come running. She’d never make it off the island.

  She stepped sideways.

  He matched her movement.

  She didn’t have time for this!

  Bringing the gun up, she aimed at his head. “Last chance. Do you wanna die today?”

  Eighteen

  Josiah ignored the gun, turning his attention to the creature who continued to fill the woman’s head with lies. “In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to be quiet.”

  The demon reeled as if punched, its fingers disengaging from the woman’s brain.

  The woman stared at him, her eyebrows knit together.

  She probably thought he was crazy.

  She wouldn’t be the first.

  “My sister-”

  “Stop saying that!” The gun shook slightly. “I am not your sister.”

  “But you are. We were both made by Almighty God, in His image-”

  “Stop it! Stop it!” The demon railed, plunging its fingers back into her brain.

  “Shut up!” The woman snapped, feeding off the demon’s agitation.

  “You don’t need to listen to him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her eyes flicked side to side, as if she could avoid the truth by avoiding him.

  “The voice. You’ve listened to it for so long, but it is not truth.”

  “I’m not listening to anyone!” She snapped, her eyes narrowing. “Including you!”

 

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