The Fighter

by Leslie Georgeson

  That was then. This is now.

  I’d betrayed them. And they hadn’t forgiven me.

  I might well die in here.

  Because they might not care enough to come for me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Anna

  Nellie was still parked where I’d abandoned her two weeks ago.

  Miracles did exist!

  Not that she was anything fancy, so why would anyone want to steal her? But it was a relief to see the old Chevy sitting where I’d left her parked before leaving Augusta with Jacob. That seemed like ages ago now, though it had only been two short weeks.

  Jacob.

  Was he still alive? Had Kenny killed him?

  He’s alive. He has to be.

  I slipped quietly across the dark street toward the nearly empty parking lot. No one had parked next to Nellie, and I didn’t blame them. Who’d want to park next to the old girl?

  I hadn’t locked the car when I’d left it, because there was nothing of value inside. I pulled open the driver’s side door and glanced in. Someone had taken up residence in the back seat at some point, but had since moved on. A ragged-looking blanket lay on the backseat, along with an empty bottle of Jim Bean.

  I lifted the floor mat on the driver’s side, and sure enough, there was the key sitting right where I’d left it. I’d never been so happy to see my old clunker Nellie in my life. I plunged the key into the ignition and turned it.

  The motor cranked, once, twice, then died.

  Crap. The battery might be dead. It had been sitting for two weeks.

  I sat back and took a deep breath.

  Come on, Nellie. Please start. Lives depend on you.

  I turned the key again, praying she would start.

  It cranked, then, with a shudder, came to life.

  Yes!

  I checked the gas gauge. Just barely a quarter of a tank. I had no money on me. Kenny’s thugs had dragged me out of Jacob’s house with nothing but the clothes on my back.

  I would just have to take Nellie as far as she would go.

  And travel the rest of the way on foot.

  I put Nellie in gear and headed down the dark street toward the opposite end of town where the military barricade had been stationed the last time I’d come through. As I made my way closer to the barricade, I had a new worry.

  How would I get past them? How would I convince them to let me out so I could save Jacob?

  How had Jacob gotten through that first night?

  They’d known him. They’d taken one look at him and let him through.

  How did they know him? Had they known he was a dreg?

  I brought Nellie to a halt at the military barricade and waited while the officer on duty glanced down at me.

  “Ma’am.” He nodded, his gaze taking in my disheveled appearance. “Everything okay?”

  “No, everything’s not okay. One of the dregs has been badly wounded and he needs medical assistance immediately. Please, you have to let me out of the city so I can go get the other dregs. They’re the only ones who can save him.”

  He hesitated, then lifted a two-way radio and spoke into it. He glanced back at me. “What’s this dreg’s name?”

  “Jacob,” I whispered. “He’s The Fighter.”

  The man nodded. “Okay. Go. But don’t tell anyone I let you through. Jacob helped me once a few weeks ago, so I owe him a favor.”

  He waved me through.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I pressed on the gas and left Augusta—and Jacob and Hazel—behind.

  I was coming back. I would save them both.

  Or die trying.

  Nellie chugged forward down the empty road toward Eatonton. She might be old, but she was a tough little car. She had good gas mileage. Even so, I kept glancing down at the gas gauge as it slowly moved lower and lower.

  An hour passed.

  The needle was now nearing the red “empty” part.

  Come on, Nellie. Just a little farther.

  Another ten minutes passed.

  Then the light came on.

  Shit.

  I pushed Nellie to the limit, until she finally puttered out and rolled to a stop as I steered her of the road several minutes later.

  Eatonton was still a good ten or fifteen miles away.

  A long walk. Especially without shoes.

  I opened the door and climbed out, then headed out barefoot along the side of the road, trying to stay on the grassy portion and off the gravel.

  It was dark out here, night sounds filling the air.

  The lights of Eatonton glowed in the distance. Those lights urged me forward. Closer. Closer.

  After several miles, my feet started to ache. Several portions of the roadside had been nothing but gravel that I’d had to navigate across as gently as possible. The bottoms of my feet now boasted several cuts and scrapes. Trying to ignore the pain, I continued on.

  Then my calves started to ache.

  Stop being a wimp. You can do this.

  I wished for once that I was athletic like Jacob. Then this walk would have been easy for me.

  Keep going, Anna. Just a little farther.

  The sound of a motor came from behind me.

  I froze. What if Kenny sent his thugs back to Jacob’s house in search of me? What if that was them behind me?

  I dove into a patch of weeds along the side of the road, holding my breath as the vehicle approached. It came to a stop and a door opened.

  “Ma’am?” A voice called. “You need a ride?”

  I hesitated, peering over the weeds to see who was there. The stranger had obviously already seen me.

  An older gentleman stood in front of the headlights of his car, squinting into the dark toward me. My gaze met his.

  “It’s okay,” he said gently. “I won’t hurt you. I’m heading back to my daughter’s in Eatonton. I’d be happy to give you a lift.”

  Still, I hesitated. I had a choice to make here. I could trust a stranger and get in his car, and be in Eatonton in ten or fifteen minutes. Or I could refuse a ride and spend the next four or five hours walking into Eatonton in the dark with sore, cut feet.

  Jacob might not have four of five hours to live. I needed to find the dregs and take them to Jacob as soon as possible.

  The last time I’d gotten into a car with a stranger, I’d met a wonderful man, and his sweet little girl, both of whom had changed my life in ways I would never forget. My heart pinched. I had to take this chance and get into the car with the stranger. Jacob’s life might depend on it.

  My decision made, I got to my sore feet and stepped cautiously toward him. “I would appreciate a ride. Thank you.”

  He eyed me curiously, then nodded. “My name’s Joe Childers.”

  “Anna Thompson.” I shook his hand, then we each went around to opposite sides of the car and slid into the vehicle.

  “That your car on the side of the road a few miles back?” he asked as he drove the car back out onto the road.

  I nodded. “Yes. I ran out of gas. I really appreciate you giving me a ride.”

  “No problem. No problem at all. You live in Eatonton?”

  “Yes.”

  I gave him directions to Jacob’s house, and about ten minutes later, he dropped me off out front.

  “Thank you so much.”

  He nodded, then waved and drove off.

  It was late, I guessed one or two in the morning. I hurried across the dark yard to the front door. The house was unlocked, but since Kenny’s thugs had dragged us out, I honestly hadn’t expected them to lock up behind them. They’d cleaned up the bodies, though there were several places on the carpet with blood splatters and some of the furniture had been knocked aside in the fight.

  I remembered shoving Jacob’s phone underneath the couch, and leaned down to search for it.

  Thankfully, it was still there. I fished it out. The battery was dead. I had seen Jacob’s phone charger in his office/den area by his laptop. I plugged the phone in
to charge, then went to my room and quickly changed out of the dress and into jeans and a T-shirt. My feet were still sore, so I ran them under cold water in the shower for a few seconds, then dried them off and stuck Band-Aids over the largest cuts. I cringed as I gently pulled on socks. I had to loosen the laces on my tennis shoes so it wouldn’t hurt so much pulling them on. Still, my feet ached. I couldn’t let my injured feet be for nothing. I had to save Jacob and Hazel.

  Leaving the laces on my tennis shoes loose for easy movement, I got to my feet and walked gingerly into Jacob’s bedroom in search of the envelope he’d told me about. I had to hurry. If Kenny sent his thugs after me, they could be here any moment.

  I yanked out the top drawer of Jacob’s night stand and turned it over. Sure enough, a white envelope was taped to the bottom of the drawer with my name on it. I pulled it free and slipped my finger along the seal, tearing it open. I unfolded the paper inside and quickly perused it.

  It was detailed instructions on where to find the other dregs. They were close by, it seemed. In the woods.

  At the very bottom of the page, Jacob had written in all caps, BRING A FLASHLIGHT.

  Jacob had a flashlight in the kitchen. I had seen it in the bottom drawer once.

  I folded the paper and stuffed it in the front pocket of my jeans. Then I hurried into the kitchen and found the flashlight.

  His phone.

  I rushed back to the den, my feet aching with each step. The phone had charged enough that it now had enough power to turn it on. Leaving it plugged in, I swiped the screen.

  It was password protected. Crap. What password would Jacob use?

  I typed in “Hazel”.

  No good.

  I thought for a moment, then typed in, “Fighter.”

  Still, no good.

  I groaned. I could do this all night and never figure out his password. I needed to get out of here. I needed to find the other dregs.

  But if I could call one of them and tell them where Jacob was, it could save time.

  And then it came to me. Hoping I was right, I typed in “Phantom.”

  The screen unlocked and I was in.

  Yes!

  I found his contacts and glanced through them. There wasn’t a lot. Only about ten or so. I recognized Marg’s name, his errand lady. All the rest were male names. Logan. Luke. Nate. Noah. Ryan. Tommy. Tony. Tracker. All were normal-sounding names, except the last one.

  Tracker.

  The dreg that Jacob had betrayed in order to save Hazel.

  I clicked on that one and held my breath while it rang.

  Once. Twice. Three times.

  It was late. The man might be in bed asleep.

  Four times. Five.

  Then it went to voicemail.

  Crap. I hesitated, then decided to leave a message.

  “Hi. This is an urgent message. My name is Anna. I’m Hazel’s nanny. Jacob is in serious trouble. He might die.” I swallowed hard, emotion clogging my throat. Drawing in a deep breath, I continued, “Hazel has been kidnapped by a gang called the Spartans. Please, I need someone to help me free them. Please, call me back.”

  I hung up.

  Next, I tried all the other numbers, one at a time, starting at the top of the list and working my way to the bottom. Every one of them went to voicemail.

  Dammit. What good were friends if they never answered their phones? Were they all refusing to answer their phones because they were still pissed at Jacob?

  Then Jacob’s phone rang, startling me so badly I almost dropped it.

  I swiped the screen. “H-hello?”

  “Anna?” a male voice asked.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I’m in Idaho, too far away to be of any assistance to you right now. You should contact the other dregs. Do you know how to get to the underground maze?”

  Underground maze. It hit me then why no one answered their phones. They were underground, and they probably didn’t get cellphone service down there.

  “Jacob gave me directions.”

  “Good. Go there. I can’t guarantee they will help you.” He paused, then it sounded like he was talking to someone else next to him. “Hold on.”

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice said. “This is Jessica. What’s happened?”

  A let out a sob and blabbed everything that had happened and how I escaped with the crowd after the fight, found my old car, driven until it ran out of gas, walked for several miles, and then gotten a ride.

  “Oh my God,” Jessica whispered. “Hurry, Anna, go to the other dregs. If they refuse to help you, tell them Jessica said they better help or I’ll kick all their asses.”

  I snorted out a laugh. I wanted to meet this Jessica. She sounded awesome. “I will, thank you. I better go now.”

  “Good luck, Anna,” Jessica said. “I’ll be praying for everyone’s safe return.”

  I set Jacob’s phone back on the table next to his laptop. Then I turned out all the lights and raced out the back door, heading toward the woods.

  And the other dregs.

  With no idea of what I was about to encounter.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Anna

  It was almost an hour later that I came upon the old plantation home in the forest. My feet were throbbing with pain from the walk through the woods, but at last, I’d made it here.

  A chill crept down my spine as I approached, searching for the underground entrance Jacob had mentioned in his directions. The wind rustled the branches of the Loblolly pines, the distinctive rosemary scent of the trees filling my nostrils. A tree trunk creak in the wind. I shivered. This place was eerie. Creepy. It was no wonder the dregs were hiding here. Only a fool would dare venture closer.

  Or a desperate person like me.

  I slowly walked around the old structure, shining my flashlight all around, until I finally found the entrance. Goosebumps jumped to attention along my arms and the back of my neck. I sensed a presence off to my right, hovering close, but not quite touching. I jerked toward it, shining the flashlight all around, but nothing was there.

  “Who’s there?” I whispered. “Show yourself.”

  Nothing but silence.

  What was that? A ghost?

  Another chill crept down my spine. A cool breeze brushed my face as I turned back to the entrance and stared down into the darkness.

  You can do this, Anna. Be brave.

  I lifted the paper and re-read Jacob’s directions. Then I entered the maze. It was nothing but concrete everywhere I looked. Light sconces high up on the walls had been knocked out, leaving the tunnels in total darkness. It was a good thing Jacob had told me to bring a flashlight. I paused every so often to make sure I was going the right way, then continued on, following Jacob’s directions. That ghostly presence returned again, hovering close, following me. What did it want? It didn’t seem to want to hurt me. Instead, it gave off a curious vibe, as if it was wondering why I was foolish enough to enter this scary place. I was doing this for Jacob. For Hazel. Ignoring the ghostly presence as best as I could, I kept on into the dark. Then the ghost disappeared with a whisper of air. And I was alone in the frightening tunnels.

  I took a deep breath and continued on. Jacob’s directions were clear and easy to follow. So many steps, then turn right. So many steps, then turn left. And so on. It wasn’t more than ten or fifteen minutes later that I found the corridor with the doors.

  When you come to a corridor lined with doors, you’ve found them, Jacob had written on the paper.

  Okay then. I was here. I stuffed Jacob’s directions back in my pocket and shined the flashlight down the hallway. The faint sound of raised voices came from farther down the corridor, from one of the doors near the end. I hesitated, then headed in that direction. The closer I got, the more distinct the voices became, so that I was able to make out the words.

  “Fuck that!”

  I cringed at the angry voice that exploded from behind the door just as I reached it. I scrambled backwar
d, my heart in my throat, as the door jerked open. A tall, Hispanic man marched out in a furious stride, his head lifting as he spied me, his black gaze narrowing. He was dressed in workout shorts and tennis shoes, but nothing else. He’d left the door gaping open behind him, the light from the room spilling out into the hallway.

  I swallowed hard and took another nervous step back. “H-hi,” I began. Then I recalled that Jacob had said Nate would be most likely to help me. “I’m looking for Nate.”

  He strode toward me. Big. Powerful-looking. Intimidating.

  Trying not to cringe away, I forced myself to hold my ground as he reached me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He had a faint Spanish accent, as if Spanish had been his first language, but he’d spoken English for most of his life.

  I cleared my throat. “A-are you Nate?”

  He scowled. “Do I look like a Nate to you?”

  Heat blossomed in my cheeks. What an ass. I lifted my chin. “No. You look like an asshole.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. Malice?

  “Who sent you here?” There was a definite threat in the question, and I sensed if I gave the wrong answer, he might hurt me.

  I swallowed hard. “Jacob. He gave me directions. He needs help.”

  The man stiffened, his features turning colder, harder, if that were possible. His face was already as harsh and unforgiving as a stone wall. If he smiled, he might actually be good-looking, but something told me this man didn’t smile often, if at all.

  “What directions?”

  I hesitated, then pulled the paper from my pocket and handed it to him. He glanced at it, then tore it down the middle, and again, and once more, ripping it into pieces, before opening his fingers and letting the pieces of paper fall to the floor. I stared, stunned. What an asshole!

  “Jacob’s a traitor,” he hissed. “Get out of here before I throw you out.”

  I took a deep breath, slowly puffed it out, digging deep for strength. Be brave, Anna. Don’t cower. Don’t let him intimidate you.

  If this man threw me out, then who would save Jacob? I had to make him listen to me. But I couldn’t do that if I cowered under his threat to remove me from the premises.

  I lifted my chin, straightened my spine. Then I slapped my hands on my hips and glared up at him. “Oh, so I was right. Your name is Asshole.”