Survive The Fall | Book 2 | Madness Rising

by Shupert, Derek

  Rick glanced at the man’s arm. “Yeah. It’s a Celtic Knot. Pretty common.”

  “No. It’s not that,” she said, muttering under her breath.

  “Guess this will have to do. Better than nothing, I suppose.” Rick pulled a knife from the man’s pant pocket. He stood up, holding the blade in his hand.

  A faint light at the far end of the corridor sliced through the dimness like a knife.

  Sarah noticed the beam as she pondered on the marking she’d discovered tattooed on the man’s arm.

  “Hey,” Rick said, waving his hand in front of Sarah’s face. “Snap out of it. They’re heading this way.”

  Sarah shook her head. “Yeah. Sorry.” She glanced down the hallway in the opposite direction. “Come on. Let’s get going while we can. There’s got to be another way out of here somewhere.”

  Rick stared at the knife, then down the hall at the inbound henchmen. He jerked his head the other way. “You go. I’m going to end this here.”

  Confusion swirled in Sarah’s mind. “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “It’s because of me that they’re after us. If we wouldn’t have stopped by Allen’s garage, then this wouldn’t have happened,” Rick said. “If I handle it here, then we should be in the clear. No one else knows what we look like or our names. You won’t have to worry about this anymore. Now, go. I’ll catch up to you.”

  The tromping of the incoming goons grew louder as did the light at the other end of the hall. If Sarah was going to make it down the hallway before they made the bend, she had to leave now.

  Racked with indecision, Sarah back-peddled away as Rick stayed behind. “242 Ricketts St. Cascade Villas. Apartment ten B.”

  Rick wrenched his chin toward the opposite end of the hall, away from the incoming footfalls. “Got it, now go.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  RUSSELL

  Russell was a magnet for trouble, and the law. He knew the dance all too well.

  His string of bad luck showed no signs of slowing down or stopping. Not only had he managed to get himself arrested, but Cathy was kidnapped, Thomas hurt, and he was that much further away from getting to Sarah.

  Crammed in the backseat of the sheriff’s cruiser, he peered through the window with a defeated gaze. His shoulders sagged as his head drooped forward.

  The sheriff peered at Russell through the rearview mirror. His beady eyes stuck to Russell like glue. Russell could feel judgement from the portly sheriff, but he didn’t care. Innocent or guilty, he had to find a way out of the pickle he was in.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” the sheriff asked as he hooked a left through the non-working intersection. “I can’t say that I’ve seen you around town before.”

  “Nope. Just passing through is all,” Russell replied. “Where did they take the dogs?”

  Thomas was taken to the town’s local hospital to get checked out further before the sheriff would question him.

  “The shelter, for now, until we can get to the bottom of things. They’ll be properly taken care of there.”

  The handcuffs around Russell’s wrists were tight. The metal ends bit into the bone. It was uncomfortable, but bearable. He didn’t want to complain. The last thing he wanted to do was grind on the sheriff’s nerves. At least, not about anything as insignificant as a little discomfort.

  “What’s going to happen with Cathy?” Russell asked. “The longer you wait to act, the better the chance something bad will happen to her. I’ve seen a ton of crap happen over the past few days. Her life is in danger. Believe me.”

  The sheriff hooked a right, drove a bit more, then swung into an empty parking spot in front of the station. “We’ll look into it as fast as we can, but our plates are overflowing with problems. Not sure if you’ve noticed the whole power issue or not. It’s kind of a big deal at the moment.” His sardonic tone wasn’t lost on Russell, or subtle for that matter.

  Russell rolled his eyes, then glanced out of the window.

  A single Prowler was parked next to them. He glanced to the sheriff’s station and squinted his eyes. Russell couldn’t spot any movement through the glass doors of the dark building. He was curious to the size of the police force since he knew nothing about Luray.

  The sheriff killed the engine, then threw open his door. He wormed his way out of the driver’s seat, then hopped down to the pavement. He opened Russell’s door and motioned for him to get out.

  Russell slid out, and took a step back, allowing the sheriff to close the door.

  The town was silent, still even. There weren’t many, if any people milling about the shops and other businesses. In the distance, Russell could hear the faint whisper of sirens calling.

  “Quaint town you have here, Sheriff,” Russell said. “Doesn’t seem to be much traffic.”

  The sheriff grabbed the back of Russell’s arm and pulled. “With the power being out pretty much everywhere, most folks have stayed at home. Nothing else to do. We’ve had our hands full, though, with patrolling 24/7, and responding to fires. We’ve had a handful of older buildings in town catch fire from sparking transformers that blew, along with some just outside the city. We’re not sure what’s caused the transformers to blow and catch fire, but we’re keeping an eye on things as best we can.”

  Russell wondered how close of an eye they were really keeping. The sheriff seemed less than concerned with what he had been told. Procedure or not, Russell figured he’d at least show a bit more urgency. Maybe Cathy was right about the portly cop. Maybe he was dirty.

  The sheriff opened the door and escorted Russell inside. They passed through another set of double glass doors that led into the main entrance of the station.

  The open blinds allowed natural light to fill the space. Small tabletop lanterns were positioned on top of the desks around the large office. There weren’t any officers around. The station looked abandoned.

  “Running on a skeleton crew, huh?” Russell asked.

  “We’re managing along as best we can under the circumstances. Trying to keep the peace and the riff raff from tearing anything up. I’d be out there right now, but someone was discharging a firearm in the middle of town like a war zone.”

  A pop shot at Russell. He didn’t bite. He kept his attention straight ahead and his mouth shut as the sheriff escorted him to an empty chair next to a cluttered desk.

  Russell sat down, then peered over the lull that consumed the station.

  The sheriff pulled out his rolling chair from his desk and plopped down. “All right, son, let’s get the basics out of the way before we get down to business here. What’s your full name?”

  “Russell Cage.”

  “Where do you reside?”

  “Boston.”

  “You got any family there?”

  Russell sighed, then hesitated. “Yes. My wife, Sarah.”

  The sheriff cut his eyes to Russell, letting him know that he heard him. He shook his head, then continued. “How do you know Cathy Snider and Thomas Kinkade?”

  “They helped me out of a tight jam a few days ago,” Russell answered.

  “What sort of jam?” the sheriff asked.

  Russell dipped his chin and thought of Tim, his best friend who perished in the plane crash they were in a few days ago.

  “Me and my friend, Tim, were in a plane that went down in the mountains. Lost power or engine problems. I don’t know. He didn’t survive the crash. I barely got out before the plane dumped over the side of a cliff.”

  The sheriff nodded while looking at Russell with a peculiar stare. “Pretty lucky that you survived and he didn’t, wouldn’t you say?”

  Russell didn’t care for what the portly man was insinuating.

  His brow furrowed and lips grew taut. “I guess, but in the end, my best friend died in that plane. I would have died out there or been eaten by a damn mountain lion if it wasn’t for Cathy and Max.”

  He didn’t have time for such meaningless procedures that weren’t accomplishing a
nything. “Listen, Sheriff, those two guys back there hit us on purpose, then kidnapped Cathy. They work for Marcus Wright. His men have been terrorizing Cathy and Thomas for the past few days and beyond that as far as I know. They’ve almost succeeded in killing us a handful times. They burned down Cathy’s cabin and stormed Thomas’s house.”

  The sheriff set his pen down, then leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his second chin, then said, “Those are some serious accusations to be making. Especially for one of Luray’s most influential residents.”

  “Cathy mentioned that she had put in some complaints with you about his men trespassing and harassing her. It’s not hard here to connect the dots,” Russell said.

  “She did put in some complaints, and we have spoken with Mr. Wright. He has apologized for any misunderstandings. We’re keeping a close eye on things, though.” The sheriff rapped his fingers against the files stacked on his desk. “As far as the fire at her place, and what transpired at Mr. Kinkade’s place, we’ll look into everything and see what we come up with. Things aren’t happening too quickly, but it will be looked into at some point.”

  Russell felt as though the sheriff was putting him off. “If it’ll help any, I caught the first three digits of the truck’s license plate, which is a black Ford extended cab truck.”

  The sheriff grabbed his pen, then said, “Anything will be helpful. We won’t be able to search through any databases with the power out, but we can keep an eye out for the vehicle. We’ll also check with Mr. Wright as well.”

  “VBK is all I got off the plate,” Russell replied. “The truck was speeding away and swerving, so I couldn’t get the rest before it got too far away.”

  “It’s not much, but we’ll see,” the sheriff said. He paused, then said, “Do you drink much, Mr. Cage?”

  The question caught Russell off guard. He shifted in the uncomfortable chair as he cleared his throat. “I do on occasion, much like most folks I’d imagine. Is that a crime in Luray, Sheriff?”

  “No, not at all,” the sheriff replied. “When’s the last time you had a taste?”

  “Last night,” Russell said, tersely. He had nothing to hide. He wasn’t drunk, at the moment, anyway. The line of questioning, though, grated on his nerves. His voice raised an octave as he expressed his frustration. “I’m not sure what any of this has to do with what has happened and finding Cathy.”

  The sheriff’s hand motioned as if it was going down to his sidearm. “I’ll tell you what it has to do with, Mr. Cage. I’ve got a suspect, who has been drinking, was in an accident, and discharging a weapon in town recklessly. That’s a trifecta of bad shit.”

  Russell could see where this was going. “So, you’re going to book me, then? Is that what you’re getting at here?”

  The rustling of keys caught Russell’s attention from behind. Static hissed from the two-way radio sitting on the sheriff’s desk. He snatched the radio and listened closely.

  It was hard to make out from the white noise. A distorted voice muttered from the speaker.

  “This is Sheriff Donner, say your last, over.” The sheriff held the radio closer to his ear and removed his thumb.

  Russell couldn’t make out what was being said. It all sounded like a garbled mess from where he was sitting.

  Sheriff Donner nodded, then looked up from his desk. He lifted his free arm in the air and waved his hand.

  The squeaking of shoes over the tile floor played in Russell’s ear. He glanced over his shoulder at the officer weaving through the maze of empty desks.

  “Yeah. I’ll head over there right now,” the sheriff said.

  The slender officer flanked Russell with his hands resting on his duty belt. “We got another issue, Sheriff?” The deputy’s voice was young with a slight country twang to it. His hair was slicked back over his head as he chewed on what Russell assumed was gum.

  Sheriff Donner grumbled as he set the radio down on his desk. A sigh fled his plump lips as his hand rubbed up and down his face. “More of the same, Johnson. We have some folks over at the supermarket trying to steal food. It’s put everyone over there on edge. A fight broke out, and well, shit rolled down hill. I tell you what, the longer this blackout goes on, the worse it’s going to get around here, I’m afraid.”

  “Do you know, by chance, how wide spread it is?” Russell asked.

  Sheriff Donner stood from his chair and pushed it away. “We heard most of the eastern side of the country, but that can’t be confirmed. Only thing working at the moment are two-way radios and HAMS.”

  Deputy Johnson nodded toward the main entrance, then said, “You want me to handle this one? You’ve been going nonstop since the power went out. I haven’t seen you sleep or eat much the last few days.”

  “No. I got it,” Sheriff Donner said, with a subtle shake of his head and a flick of his wrist. “I’ve got a few other stops I need to make afterward. Check in on some of our older folks. Make sure they’re doing all right.”

  “Copy that,” Deputy Johnson replied. “What are we doing with him?”

  Sheriff Donner looked at Russell, who was still seated next to his desk. “Put him in one of the interrogation rooms for right now until I get back, and we can continue our conversation.”

  “And how long is that going to be?” Russell scoffed. “Cathy needs you now, not later. Can you not call in someone else? I mean, you have your deputy here.”

  “It’ll take however long is needed,” Sheriff Donner said, in a curt, cold manner. He leaned on the edge of the desk and narrowed his beady eyes at Russell. “I suggest you worry about yourself, son. The more you run your mouth, the deeper the shit gathers around your legs. If you want to get back to that wife of yours in Boston anytime soon, I’d suggest you zip it.”

  Deputy Johnson grabbed Russell by the arm and yanked him out of the chair. “Come on, tough guy.”

  Russell looked at the sheriff, but didn’t venture a counter remark. The blow hard was right about one thing, he was sinking further into a messed-up situation that wasn’t getting better.

  “Keep an eye on him,” Sheriff Donner said, while grabbing his two-way from the desk. “If you need anything, get me on the radio.”

  “I got this. He won’t be any trouble.”

  Sheriff Donner strode past Russell and made for the main entrance. He clipped the radio on his hip, and threw the doors open to the station.

  Deputy Johnson grabbed Russell by the wrist and the scruff of his flannel shirt. He led him through the dimness of the station toward a dark hallway.

  “You know, your sheriff is making a mistake here. Those men who took Cathy are dangerous. Who knows what they have planned for her?” Russell pleaded his case.

  He was escorted down the hall which grew darker from the lack of windows in that section of the station.

  “Are you referring to Cathy Snider?” Deputy Johnson asked.

  “Yeah, I am,” Russell answered as he turned to the side to look at the officer. Deputy Johnson jerked him about face. Russell stumbled. “Listen. I’m telling the truth here. I know for a fact that Marcus Wright has taken her. The man is dangerous.”

  Deputy Johnson jerked Russell’s shirt, stopping him in his tracks in front of a dark blue door with a small window embedded within its core. Russell couldn’t read what was inscribed on the plate just below the glass, but figured it was the interrogation room.

  “Are you some sort of family friend or boy toy hanging around her place?”

  Russell sighed, and shook his head. “Family friend, I guess. I don’t know. She helped me out.”

  Deputy Johnson shoved him forward into the door.

  The side of Russell’s faced slammed against the cold, hard steel. The impact caught him off guard. A twinge of pain stabbed his skull as he shook his head.

  “Don’t turn around or move again until I tell you to.”

  “What the hell,” Russell said, protesting the deputy’s less than gentle touch. “You know, I do have rights here.”


  Deputy Johnson jerked Russell back from the door, then leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “Your rights are whatever I deem them to be and every word that tumbles out of your mouth gets you one step closer to drowning. Besides, I wouldn’t worry about Mrs. Snider. She’s in good hands.”

  Russell’s eyes bulged.

  It seemed that corruption had infested the Luray Sheriff’s Department and taken root.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SARAH

  Brave but stupid was a perfect way to describe Rick. He shouldered the brunt of responsibility for dragging her into the muddled mess that was Kinnerk’s goons, even if it was by accident.

  She didn’t feel as though it warranted him staying behind to deal with the remaining thugs, but he was determined to make things right. They had the upper hand, and could’ve gained some distance between their pursuers, but in the end, guilt, like most things, could weigh a person down to the point where they’d do whatever they felt was right to set things straight.

  Raised voices and shouting trailed Sarah and faded away as she navigated the hallways of the abandoned building. She kept moving, searching for a way out of the defunct space.

  Everything looked the same within the murk that clung to every square inch of the condemned building. It was an endless maze with no way out.

  The faint report of gunfire stopped her cold. Dread and sadness washed over her as she checked behind her. The flashlight’s strident beam of light trained at the stretch of dim corridor before her.

  No shadowy figures loomed in the distance or beams of light that indicated a threat, or Rick, was inbound.

  A sheen of wetness coated each eye. Her hand trembled as she listened for any inbound footfalls rushing her way. None could be heard. Even the raised voices had been squashed.

  Rick. You damn fool.

  She hoped he wasn’t on the receiving end of the discharging weapon, but the silence did little to ease her worry.

  Sarah waited a moment longer, listening and watching the dimness before she got back on the move. A sliver of hope beckoned her to wait, or even go back to see if he was all right. Afterall, he had gone out of his way for a stranger he barely knew.