Survive The Fall | Book 2 | Madness Rising

by Shupert, Derek

  The green, wiry, creeping plant fell to the ground at Max’s paws as he barked at Russell from the ground. He stood with his front legs perched on the rock as both dogs howled and barked.

  Russell took in another deep breath and blew it out to calm his nerves. His hands trembled, but he pushed on through the trepidation.

  He scaled the remaining boulders at a snail’s pace until he reached the top. The bones in each finger were sore to the touch and ached, as did the muscles throughout his body.

  Beads of sweat raced from Russell’s hairline down the sides of his face as he grabbed handfuls of the long blades of grass that grew at the edge of the cliff.

  The salt filled pockets of spent energy slithered into his eyes and stung.

  Russell grumbled in aggravation as he hoisted his bulky frame up toward the edge.

  His vision was still distorted from the loose debris in his eyes. The dogs’ barking echoed within the low-lying depression they were in and up toward Russell.

  The long blades of grass held firm and didn’t pull away from the ground.

  Russell hoisted his bulk to the edge of the cliff, then tossed his legs onto the slanted hill. He rolled over onto his back panting.

  His chest heaved as his lungs beckoned for air. He drew in deep breaths as he took a moment to rest.

  Russell contemplated just shooting the deputy for being a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t a cop killer, regardless if the dirtbag deserved it or not. Plus, he still needed him, which trumped any sort of dreadful end he had imagined for him.

  The pistol dug into the small of Russell’s back. He rolled to his side and retrieved the firearm from his waistband.

  Russell flopped onto his stomach, then pressed both hands to the grass, pushing himself up from the ground. He rested on his knees and leaned back as he surveyed the area.

  A number of large trees with bushes around their base concealed a portion of the area. More obtuse rocks blanketed the landscape which added more places for the corrupt cop to hide.

  Where are you, you piece of crap? Russell growled under his breath.

  He could hear subtle movements from the rich, green thickets before him. It was hard to discern if it was the deputy or an animal foraging.

  Russell stood and huffed. He skimmed over the area, trying to get any sort of lead as to where to look first. Perhaps the dogs had been tracking another animal, and everything he had just done was a complete waste of time. Either way, he’d find out.

  His nerves wound tight as he surveyed the area. The lack of alcohol swimming through his body caused the tremor in his hands to become more intense the longer he went without a taste. He didn’t dwell on the withdrawals that were plaguing him. Doing so wouldn’t solve the issue or help his current predicament.

  The rustling within the thickets grew louder the closer he stalked. Both hands rested on the grip of the pistol as he swept the wooded area for the deputy.

  Loose branches on the forest floor snapped under his bulk. The breaking of the brittle wood was sharp and sounded much louder than he wanted. The rustling noise remained.

  Russell squinted, trying to penetrate the dense foliage before him. Something was there, he just didn’t know what.

  One foot in front of the other, Russell moved closer to the boulders to his left as he closed in on the thicket. The endless places for the deputy to hide, just in the general area, made him feel uneasy. He was already at a disadvantage, seeing as the cop knew the area better than he did.

  The movement within the bushes and shrubs ceased. It was instantaneous, as if his presence had been detected. Russell paused and scanned over the area.

  He swiped his forearm across his sweaty brow as he trained an attentive ear for any footfalls close by. The wind howled and ripped through the canopy overhead, displacing the leaf rich branches. The canines’ barking had reduced to a lull which was barely audible from where he was.

  Russell pressed his shoulder to the rigid surface of the boulder and paused. His gut twisted in knots. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He had a feeling the deputy was close, but he didn’t know where.

  He felt exposed, like a raw nerve that was primed for plucking.

  Thunder rumbled through the cloudy skies overhead. The hint of rain loomed on the horizon—another obstacle Russell didn’t want to have to deal with.

  A squirrel materialized from the base of the shrubs and bolted past Russell’s feet. He jumped back against the boulder. His finger squeezed against the trigger, but stopped before firing at the animal.

  The light brown and tan rodent zigzagged through the grass. Its bushy tail stood on end as the small mammal skirted the rocks across from Russell. It slipped under the base of the boulder and vanished.

  Russell shook his head and snickered.

  Christ. Are you-

  A blur flashed from outside of his view.

  The deputy charged Russell at full tilt from the shrubs to his left. Lodged in his hands was a stout piece of wood that he lifted over his shoulder.

  Russell flinched and took a step back while training the pistol at the incoming threat.

  Johnson swung the branch with all his might. The pistol barked, firing off a single round as the dense plot of wood slammed into Russell’s forearm. The blow knocked his arms to the ground, and the bullet went wide, missing Russell’s leg.

  Dirt kicked up from the ground.

  The pistol fell from Russell’s hand.

  “You’re a dead man, Cage,” the deputy said, swung the hefty branch again.

  Russell’s arms throbbed as he ducked and lunged forward, spearing the deputy in the mid-section. A sharp huff fled the corrupt cop’s lips as Russell drove him backward through the thicket.

  Limbs and branches snapped as their bodies bulldozed through the shrubbery. Angered snarls and hard grunts swirled about the enraged men.

  Johnson lost his footing, and stumbled to the ground with Russell latched onto his waist. Fists and elbows were thrown at any part of their torsos that were exposed.

  Russell mounted the deputy for a split second before being thrown over his body. The world spun as he slammed into the uneven earth.

  Air ripped from his lungs. He coughed and hacked, then rolled over to his side.

  Deputy Johnson pulled himself off the ground while coughing much the same way. The back of his hand wiped away the blood that trickled down from his busted lip as he loomed over Russell.

  “You know what? I don’t think I’m going to kill you after all.” Johnson kicked Russell in the ribs. Russell dry heaved, then drew his legs up to his chest. “I think what I’m going to do is get my sidearm, blow out both of your knee caps, and leave you here for a mountain lion or bear to snack on. That way, you can think of the many ways I’m going to enjoy your wife once I track her down.”

  Johnson grabbed Russell by the scruff of his flannel shirt, and punched him in the face.

  Pain lanced through Russell’s face and stomach, as Russell’s head snapped back.

  His eyes clamped shut, and his body went limp in the deputy’s grasp.

  Johnson released Russell’s shirt, dropped him to the ground, and backed away.

  Russell could hear the deputy stomping through the grass, and breathing heavily as he searched for the pistol.

  “Where did you drop my piece at, damn it.” Johnson sifted through the tall grass, swatting the blades with his hand.

  Russell had to move before it was too late.

  The mere thought of Johnson even being in the same vicinity as Sarah made Russell’s blood boil. His ribs ached and face throbbed, but that couldn’t slow him down.

  Blood and spit filled Russell’s mouth. He spit the thick wad to the ground, then rolled over to his hands and knees. The motion ripped a subtle grunt of discomfort from his parched lips. He squinted his eyes and grimaced from the soreness in his ribs.

  The melee weapon Johnson used to attack Russell was close at hand. The dark, rich brown of the branch was vi
sible through the tall grass. Russell grabbed the bulky branch and dragged it across the ground to him as he stood up.

  Johnson was hunched over, sifting through the grass while mumbling and cursing under his breath. His hands swatted at the tall blades as his frustration built to an explosive eruption.

  “Damn it to hell,” he said.

  Russell stumbled through a narrow gap within the dense vegetation while wielding the branch like a baseball bat. Evil thoughts of bludgeoning the deputy to death right there in the woods coalesced in his mind. Bashing in his skull until there was nothing left except a pulpy mess filled Russell’s thoughts.

  His fingers wrapped around the large end of the branch. A scowl formed on his bloody face as the deputy found the pistol, and ejected the magazine. He wasn’t the wiser that Russell was stalking him.

  Johnson froze with the magazine in one hand, and the pistol in the other as Russell swung with all of his might. The wood smashed over the deputy’s shoulder, knocking him forward. He dropped to his hands and knees. The mag and pistol vanished in the depths of the grass.

  Russell glared down at the deputy as he struggled to get up.

  “What? You want to kill me now? Is that it, Cage?” Johnson taunted.

  You have no idea.

  Russell shoved his boot into Johnson’s backside, shoving him closer to the edge of the cliff. The deputy fell face first into the grass as he tried to crawl away from Russell.

  “Remember, you kill me and you’ll never find out where Cathy is,” Johnson said. “And all of this will have been for nothing.”

  A scowl took over Russell’s face as he closed in on the back-peddling coward. The stick hung by Russell’s side, the end dragging through the grass. Deviant thoughts of making the deputy suffer wouldn’t leave.

  Johnson stopped shy of the edge of the cliff, and a look of terror washed over the trembling man.

  Max and Butch growled and barked from below.

  “You know, I should extend you the same offer you did for me.” Russell’s voice was laced with indignation. His nostrils flared as his chest heaved. He peered at the cliff, then back to Johnson. “I could beat the crap out of you with this handy branch you found, then toss your worthless hide to the ground below. I figure you’ll break some limbs, but survive for those bears and mountain lions you were talking about.”

  Johnson’s lips trembled as he glanced to either side for a quick getaway. He rolled to his right and onto his hands and knees. Russell brought the business end of the branch down on Johnson’s hand.

  The deputy howled in pain as he dropped to the grass on his side while clutching his hand. He rolled to his knees, then sat up. Spit spewed from his mouth as he clenched his jaw. His face grew blood red and rich blue veins ran across his brow.

  Russell placed the branch under the deputy’s chin and lifted up. Johnson snarled. His nostrils flared like a raging bull. Saying he was pissed was an understatement.

  Russell didn’t care. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SARAH

  The shadowy figure loomed in the darkness of the kitchen–shadows concealing his face. The barrel of his canon remained fixed at Sarah’s skull as he hovered over her.

  “Toss that beauty you’ve got tucked in your waistband here,” he said.

  Sarah was lost, confused, and scared by what was happening. She had no plans of being at his mercy.

  She reached for the Glock with a quick hand.

  The mysterious man doubled down on her and said, “Easy there. Like I said, I wouldn’t try anything stupid. I guarantee I can put a slug in your head before you could even think of firing off a single round, so don’t test me.”

  Sarah grabbed the grip of her Glock while keeping her sights on the intruder. She wanted to know who he was, but couldn’t get a clear enough view of his face.

  She pulled the Glock free of her trousers and tossed it at the man’s boots.

  From what little she could see, he appeared to have long hair that was pulled up into a man bun—something she hated on men. The hint of a beard caught her eye as well as he trained his ear to the wall.

  Sarah glanced down at David, worried about how he was. He laid unconscious on the floor at her side. She nudged his ribs with her knee, hoping to get any sort of response from him. He didn’t budge.

  “Who are you, and what do you want?” Sarah asked with a slight tremble to her scratchy voice. “Where is my friend? What have you done with her?”

  Man-bun smirked which was barely visible through the murk. He dug his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a package of some kind.

  The toe of his boot pressed to her Glock and scooted it across the floor into the kitchen, well out of Sarah’s reach. He brought the crumpled-up package to his mouth, then cocked his head to the side.

  “Did you hear what I asked?” Sarah asked.

  The man shook his hand, then stared at the package. He made a fist, crushing whatever it was he was holding. “Yes. I can hear your incessant whining.”

  “Then answer me,” Sarah said, as her voice rose an octave. “What do you want, and what have you done with my friend?”

  Man-bun discarded the package on the countertop, then sighed. “First off, you need to lower your voice, and stop with all of the yapping. You’re in no position to be demanding anything, Mrs. Cage. This can go one of two ways. The easy way or the hard way. I’d prefer the easy way, but I’m not opposed to doing what is needed to complete my job.”

  The man kept his piece trained at her skull. She peered up at him with a bewildered gaze.

  There was more going on here than just a simple robbery. He knew who she was. Her stomach twisted in knots. She thought of Kinnerk, considering he was the only one chasing after her, but she never once mentioned her name or where Mandy lived to the goons who were after them. Not unless they somehow got to Rick and he told them. But that didn’t make sense either. Since communications were down, they wouldn’t have been able to contact Kinnerk.

  Sarah’s head swelled with confusion. On top of being scared, she was lost and didn’t understand what was happening which frustrated her that much more.

  “Listen. I don’t know who you are or what you want, but my friend here is a cop, and I guarantee you don’t want that kind of heat. Just leave us be, and tell me where Mandy is.”

  Man-bun didn’t flinch or show any sort of worry. He seemed calm and collected which made Sarah uneasy.

  “I don’t know if you noticed the power being out and everything else going on, but the police have bigger problems at the moment. I wouldn’t count on them being any help or coming to the rescue.” He shifted the barrel of his gun to David, then said, “Just to be on the safe side, I guess I could snuff the pig here. Tie up any loose ends, so I don’t have any added problems.”

  Sarah flung her body over David while holding her hands up in the air. “Wait, wait, wait. Please. Just leave him be, and tell me what you want.”

  “It’s simple, really,” Man-bun replied. “You come with me, keep that trap of yours shut, and I’ll let your cop buddy here live. Either way, you’re coming with me. The only question is whether or not I’ll have to put a slug in the back of his head or not. That part is up to you.”

  “You fire that weapon, and you’ll have everyone on this floor rushing over here to see what’s going on.” Sarah didn’t believe that, but she hoped that he would.

  Man-bun snickered, and pointed at the hall. “That’s true, and it would be a shame to have to kill them, along with your friend, but I will. Besides, it’s not like they can call the police or anything.”

  He was right, and Sarah knew it all too well. His threat made her worry that much more. The lump of fear wedged in her throat choked her up as she forced it down and nodded her head.

  Voices from outside the door caught Man-bun’s attention. He pressed his finger to his lips while looking to Sarah. “Shhh. Be quiet, and don’t do anything to get your f
riend killed.”

  Man-bun stepped toward the door and pressed the side of his head to the cream-colored wood grain.

  Sarah remained silent and didn’t make a peep as she got off of David. She sat on the floor, watching the man as he listened to the muffled chatter from the hallway.

  He moved out from the shadows of the kitchen enough for some of the light that shone through the narrow opening within the curtains across the room to wash over his stern looking face. His black beard was neatly trimmed and cut close. His mocha skin was free of any scars or markings that she could see.

  Sarah noticed something on his forearm. A tattoo of sorts that she couldn’t make out. She stared at his arm, then flitted her gaze back to his face.

  She thought of the Celtic Knot and Kinnerk’s men. She wasn’t sure if that was the tattoo on his arm, but she didn’t want to find out.

  Sarah’s hand traced over David’s duty belt, searching for the collapsible baton. She knew he carried one on him most of the time. The formidable weapon would do some damage.

  Man-bun listened for a moment longer, then checked his watch for the time. Sarah’s hand continued to trace over the belt until she found what she was looking for.

  “Come on, come on,” he said, under his breath as he twirled his fingers in a circle.

  Sarah carefully pulled the baton from the duty belt to the floor. The darkness within the apartment helped conceal the weapon. She slipped it under her leg as Man-bun turned away from the door.

  “It’s about time,” he said. “I really don’t want to have to kill anyone today if it’s not needed. That just complicates things. Makes it harder to complete assignments in a timely manner.”

  Sarah stayed planted on her back side as he motioned with his piece for her to stand up. He didn’t have it trained on her, but kept it at his side and pointed at the floor.

  Her heart beat like a snare drum. A surge of adrenaline spiked through her veins. She took her time in getting up.

  “Come on. Hurry it up. I don’t have all day here,” he snapped.