The Gilded Sanctum

by Keith Veverka

  Both men emerged from the tunnel at the same time, but neither could immediately make sense of the frightening scene before them.

  Chapter 37

  Directly in front of the two men in a small clearing amongst the dense forest, ten cloaked figures were arranged in a circle, each facing inward. The faces of the figures were merely shadows as dark hoods were pulled over their heads and long robes, which extended to their feet, concealed their bodies. Each of the robed strangers held a lantern, casting a soft light into the center of the circle. On a large flat rock in the middle of the circle, illuminated by the dim glow of the lanterns, was a woman’s naked body. She was lying flat on her back, like a sacrifice to be offered to the gods, her arms and legs outstretched over the edges of the rock.

  The woman appeared to be semiconscious and was moving slightly, but seemingly unaware of her precarious position. Her pseudo-paralysis signified that she had probably been drugged and was most likely an unwilling participant in this deadly spectacle. The cloaks looked exactly like the one Walker had seen on the hidden camera footage, so the connection was beginning to form in his mind. But before he could finish his thought, one of the cloaked figures stepped forward and entered the inside of the circle.

  He slowly approached the victim lying prostrate on the rock and methodically ran his hand, just barely visible from beneath the baggy sleeve of his robe, over her entire body as though he was a predator admiring his prey. His fingers moved carefully from the contours of her face over the mound of her breasts, sliding across her stomach and touching her genital area. The molester stood motionless for several moments, until finally lowering his hand to his side and returning with an object, removed from his cloak.

  As Walker strained to make out the object in the dim light, the other cloaked figures began to chant as they raised their lanterns above their heads. With the light from the lanterns shifting, Walker could now see the victim more clearly and realized it is not a woman at all, but a young girl. Seeming to be somewhat awakened from her drugged-induced state by the chants growing ever louder, the female victim turned her head slightly toward Walker, and he immediately recognized the ear piercings and slightly colored hair of Heather Yates.

  As the figure in the center of the circle raised the object higher, the chants seemed to be reaching a crescendo, and Walker could now decipher the object in the assailant’s hand. It was a hunting knife. A white bone handle — wrapped in his fingers — was attached to a long silver blade with one edge smooth and the other serrated. Heather started to awaken and wearily realized there was a large knife hanging over her. She attempted to scream, but before the cry could even leave her throat, the deafening chanting that engulfed her suddenly stopped, and the figure plunged the knife downward.

  Chapter 38

  A collective grunt from the unknown figures, who formed the circle around the victim, rose up into the night air with the force of a thundering collision as the knife found its destination. Walker was paralyzed, motionless, still shaken by the horror he had just witnessed. A stark realization swept over him. He had failed again.

  He was suddenly jolted from his paralysis by two gunshots, which rang in his ears and echoed as the sound ricocheted off the surrounding rocks and trees. The macabre ceremony ended abruptly as the robed figures scattered in all directions, ripping off their cloaks, dropping their lanterns, and tripping over each other as they tried to escape. As the hoods came off, Walker could see they were boys from the school. Cowards. The toughness they displayed moments ago over a terrified and helpless girl was now gone, replaced with their own horror at being discovered. They were nothing more than scared kids.

  Walker glanced at Castillo, anger contorting his face, smoke rising from his gun where he had just released two rounds into the air. The sharp smell of gunpowder awakened Walker from his trance, and he jumped from the tunnel entrance, chasing whatever cloaked criminal was still visible in his sight as Castillo rushed to Heather. Walker’s target happened to be the one with the knife, directly in front of him.

  Everything transpired in seconds, but it seemed like an eternity to Walker. The killer was noticeably stunned by the gunshots, dumbfounded by the sudden end to his murderous rampage, so he did not move as quickly as everyone around him. He was still standing upright, attempting to decide the best course of action, when Walker rushed toward him in a fit of rage and grit. He immediately dropped the knife into the dirt and turned to run as Walker collided with him, grabbing a firm hold of his cloak and forcing him to the ground.

  The unknown figure struggled to free himself, throwing the lantern at Walker, and then out of sheer desperation, wildly punching at his captor, many of the blows missing. He mobilized his legs as well, kicking furiously until his cleated shoe cleaved into Walker’s face and tore a wide gash into his cheek. Walker was immobilized for a moment, giving his opponent just enough time to tear off his robe and get to his knees. Walker swiped at the laceration on his face with the back of his left hand, streaking the blood across his torn flesh. He raised his right hand. It held the gun, which was aimed directly at his adversary, who without his cloak was now completely visible in the low moonlight. Josh Easterly.

  Josh stared at the barrel of the gun and followed the outstretched arm of its owner back to the bloody and determined face of Ryan Walker. The two exchanged a long stare, a test of wills, a reflection of how far each of them had fallen and what they were still capable of. Walker wanted to pull the trigger, furious over the merciless killing he had just watched this young man commit, but he couldn’t quite do it. Although he had certainly reached the depths of this world by killing many others, there was something about the innocence of a child.

  Walker had convinced himself all these years that the people he followed were grown adults who had made terrible choices, had gone to the dark side, and deserved whatever punishment might befall them. But the young man in front of him was different. Although this person had certainly chosen his fate and made tragic mistakes in the process, he was still a child and did not deserve to die. In his soul, Walker was still an agent, still a law enforcement officer, and still bound by the rule of law. And for that reason, he could not pull the trigger.

  Seeing the hesitation in Walker’s movements and capitalizing on the moment of humanity that had just returned to the ex-agent, Josh rose to his feet, turned, and ran away. Walker lowered his gun as Castillo, who had been tending to Heather, rushed by him and pursued Josh into the dense woods. They both disappeared into the darkness as the sounds of crackling leaves and snapping branches eventually faded to silence.

  Time returned to its normal rhythm as Walker grunted loudly, turning over and sitting up, exhausted from the scuffle with Josh. He crossed his arms on his knees as he looked at the discarded robes and broken lanterns which now littered the clearing. It was eerily quiet.

  Trying to avoid the inevitable as long as possible, Walker finally brought himself to look at the girl lying motionless on the flat rock a few feet away. He rose to one knee and took a deep cleansing breath, trying to prepare himself for what he was about to do. He didn’t bother to brush himself off as he struggled to his feet and eventually willed himself to begin the slow march toward the victim. It reminded him of another time.

  Chapter 39

  As Special Agent Walker pulled the trigger, the assault weapon released its deadly ammunition, nearly without sound. The silencer had muffled most of the explosion from the barrel, so instead of a loud gunshot blast, it was more like a hushed airgun. But the .45 caliber round in the barrel was anything but harmless, and moved across the space of the lobby at lightning speed, impacting the assailant’s head with remarkable precision. The result was immediate. The left side of the hostage-taker’s head exploded in a mass of blood and brain tissue, spraying bits of both onto his hostage. The subject was propelled to the floor, but he pulled the woman with him as his arm was still wrapped around her neck.

  Both fell hard to the floor as Walker sprung from the sid
e room, flinging the door open, his rifle outstretched to finish the job if needed. It was a headshot, so most likely the man was already dead, but more importantly was the condition of the woman, who was very close to the blast. As Walker took giant steps across the lobby, he saw the woman — dazed and confused — lift herself up with her arms from the body splayed on the floor and look back at him racing across the lobby. Although her face was covered in his blood and her tears, she appeared to be unhurt.

  Walker had just reached the daughter, still cowering in the chair, when he felt a sudden punch in his back. It took his breath away. He was forced to the floor and the intense pressure in his back was now releasing to all parts of his body as he smashed into the hard cement floor. Disoriented by the pain, but working to recover from the fall, he rolled slightly to locate the source of the impact.

  A second subject, who had been sitting in a chair in the corner of the lobby, obscured from Walker’s limited view through the slit in the doorway, was now standing behind him. For this new unknown subject, the SWAT team had just breached the lobby and killed his partner, so his only resort was to go out in a blaze of glory.

  Still smoking from the first shot that had hit Walker squarely in the back, the gunman’s pistol was now pointed directly at his head. His vest had taken the first bullet, and although the force of the impact had knocked him down, he was unharmed. He would not be so lucky with the second. Walker rapidly tried to lift his rifle toward the new threat, but from his vulnerable position on the floor, he knew would his reaction would not be fast enough.

  As the gunman centered his aim and prepared to pull the trigger, his chest suddenly exploded. Two bullets exited the man’s torso, tearing gaping holes through his flesh, which burst open with blood splatter and fragments of fabric. As the assailant’s body was pushed forward from the blast, Walker could see his partner, rifle raised, behind the gunman. His life had been saved, but Walker’s sudden relief was quickly replaced with unspeakable horror as the gunman’s arms swung to the side and the handgun in his right hand, through an involuntary reflex of the fingers, fired.

  The single shot from the pistol was all that was needed to kill the young girl sitting next to him. Her mother, still propped up on her arms, let out a blood-curdling scream, watching her dead daughter fall from the chair.

  Everything moved in slow motion as Walker was momentarily stunned by the sight of the young girl lying motionless on the bloody floor and shook his head in disbelief as he turned back to the mother, who was still wailing at the top of her lungs. As his partner entered the lobby and immediately moved toward the girl to check her vitals, Walker could not quite comprehend what had just happened nor what he had just done.

  Chapter 40

  Emotions were flooding through Walker like a raging river as he approached Heather. As he neared the hard stone where Heather lay, he realized that the knife had not actually struck her. Instead, there was a jagged gash in the rock, about six inches from her neck. Had Josh missed? On purpose? Walker couldn’t quite reconcile his confusion as Heather abruptly moved her head, as if waking from a dream. The shock of seeing the knife in her delirious state may have caused her to pass out, so she was just now finding her way back from the blackness.

  Heather appeared to be in a fog as she slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Walker. He immediately grabbed a nearby robe from the ground and covered her with it while putting his hand on her forehead and held it there. Heather managed to curl her lips into a smile through the grogginess as though she intuitively realized she was now in safe hands.

  Lowering his weapon and reaching for his cell phone, Walker placed the call to 911, determined that he would stay with her until the ambulance arrived. Indistinct shouts and radio static could be heard through the thickness of the woods in the direction of the school, campus police officers most likely barreling their way toward the sound of the gunshots. As they approached his position, he watched their flashlight beams dancing among the trees.

  Walker climbed up onto the rock and Heather curled into his lap, shivering under the thick cloak, as the reality of her situation became clear. The chemicals in her system were now wearing off, so the catatonic paralysis induced by the drugs was quickly replaced by the very lucid and very real emotions of fear and relief. Walker held her tighter as the bouncing lights drew closer and the faint sound of sirens were carried to them by the crisp breeze.

  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Although it wasn’t all of his doing and perhaps more luck than anything else, this girl was alive because of him. And he was now holding her close, comforting her from the ordeal she had just endured, as he wasn’t able to do so many years ago. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time, felt like he had made a difference, saved a life. He still wasn’t sure if he was any closer to finding Amanda and uncovering what had happened, but at least for the moment, he had rescued another child and it felt good. He had hoped his mission to Washington Academy would provide a chance for redemption, and in some small way, he may have found some.

  Chapter 41

  Walker sat alone on the rock as police officers from the Loudoun County Sheriff’s Department and EMTs from Leesburg Emergency Dispatch encircled him like sharks around an evening meal, but unlike the sharks, they weren’t interested in Walker, only the sundry clues that surrounded him. He was in a deep place, far beneath surface of what had just happened, filled with every emotion he had ever experienced. He still struggled to make sense of the last few minutes — the lingering memories, emotional turmoil, and refreshing conclusion to this most recent episode of his life.

  He looked down at his hands, filthy from a dried mixture of dirt, blood, and tears. He had just held a young girl in these hands, alive and breathing, taken away in an ambulance with only superficial wounds. The bizarre ritual in the woods wasn’t meant for him, but had exorcised some of his demons nonetheless. As he rested on the natural alter — a symbol of his deliverance — he realized there was still good in him, he had not completely lost that internal drive to help others. After his last assignment as an agent, he didn’t think he was meant to do this anymore; he had hurt too many people and made too many tragic decisions, but now he was moving toward the right side again. And it was where he knew he belonged.

  Walker had spent so much time wallowing in his own self-pity and doubt, that he didn’t believe he could still save people, still make a difference. He had been living a life of death and decay for so long, he was consumed by it. But now, he could feel the fresh air, a way out of the hole he had dug for himself. All he needed to do was start climbing.

  Another person suddenly brushed up against Walker, startling him from his catatonic trance. He turned to see Castillo talking to him, but the words sounded distance at first, almost garbled, until finally Castillo shook him and the command became clear. “Hey, Walker, watch out.”

  He stood and moved from the rock just as Castillo, dragging the young man by his shirt collar, threw Josh Easterly into his vacated spot. Josh’s hood and robe had been removed, his white shirt now wrinkled and dirty, untucked from his equally mud—streaked khaki pants. Josh resisted Castillo’s offer of a seat, so the security chief manhandled the student by roughly sitting him down and holding him on the rock in front of them until Josh finally gave up and stopped struggling.

  Castillo stood upright, crossed his arms, and stared down at the pathetic excuse for a criminal. He was still breathing heavily from his pursuit through the woods, so he took a few moments before speaking. Finally, he said, “So, what do we have here, Josh? The Sons of Liberty in all its glory? First thing you’re gonna do is give me the names of all the other little assholes that were out here with you.”

  “Fuck you!” Josh glared.

  After a quick glance to his left where two officers were absorbed in a conversation, Castillo swung back quickly with his right hand slamming hard into Josh’s cheek. Josh’s head flung to the left, and he fell off the rock into the dirt. Walker was startled by the abuse,
so he stared at Castillo, who simply smiled.

  Reaching down with a grunt, he picked up Josh by both hands, and sat him back on the rock.

  Now bleeding from his right cheek, Josh appeared dazed, his head down — probably throbbing — as he tried to recover from the open-handed punch.

  “That was for my friend here,” Castillo said, looking down at Josh with superiority. ‘“Now you having matching scars.”

  Josh glanced away as though trying to ignore Castillo comments.

  Castillo reached down and grabbed the boy’s chin, moving it up and back to face him. “And what do we have here? A bruise from the ground…” Josh fought against his grip and pulled away. “...when you were being chased by officers after you tried to stab a girl,” Castillo said with the persuasion of a prosecutor. Josh sat still, looking away, but Walker was sure the implication was not lost on the supposedly smart, private school student.

  Leaning in closer, almost whispering, with a delight in his voice, Castillo continued. “That’s right, Josh, you see what’s happening here? None of your friends are around. It’s just you. We’ve got a missing girl on our hands, and your fingerprints are all over a knife that nearly just killed a girl. You see where this is going? You better start talking because the way I see it, the only thing that’s fucked here...is you.”

  Silence. Josh continued to stare at the ground as the two investigators leaned over him, like police officers with a suspect. Castillo abruptly stepped closer, as if deducing that Josh needed some further convincing, and the boy instinctively recoiled.