Prey for Us

by Geoffrey Neil

  “You already know my history,” Morana said. “You know I don’t mind going to extremes when it comes to achieving justice. If you are worried about illegality, remember jury verdicts are legal even when they are wrong. Inadequate punishments for egregious crimes are legal. Innocent prisoners are too often legally executed for crimes they didn’t commit.”

  “Okay, I get it,” Thane said.

  “It’s not for everyone, but when you introduced me to the sub-lair, and I learned how badly you were abused, I wondered if you’d be inspired to use your amazing discovery to help others who have been hurt the same way.”

  “Nice pitch,” he said. “How long have you been planning this?”

  “For years I’ve dreamed of an opportunity like this one. I didn’t know what it would look like, but I knew I would recognize it when I saw it. Thane, making victims whole is a dream for me, and after learning how Waylon preyed on you and then being lucky enough to witness your emancipation, I have the perfect name for our enterprise: Prey for Us. I hoped the name would carry special meaning for you,”

  Thane grinned. “I like it.” He sat quietly studying his thumbnail, then said, “Both of you need to understand that no matter what, I will not disclose my secret.”

  “We don’t need to know it,” Morana said, “You will continue to completely control physical access to the sub-lair.”

  “There’s one other thing,” Thane said. “My name goes on the title to the property.”

  Morana and Clay looked at one another.

  Thane added, “If you want to be as fair with me as you claim, it’s time to show it.”

  “I think we can work something out,” Morana said.

  “Not something—equal ownership,” Thane said.

  Morana paused. “I have no problem with that.”

  “Of course, you don’t because it’s not your money,” Clay said.

  “Are you seriously going to be greedy now?” Morana snapped.

  Thane said, “If my name isn’t on the title, there’s no deal. Tell me your decision.”

  Chapter 32

  MORANA, CLAY, AND Thane squeezed together on the lift, ascending from the sub-lair. As they neared the surface, the faint ambient light of the garage slowly brightened the shaft.

  A few feet before their heads reached the surface, Thane stopped the lift and put his fingers to his lips. Morana examined Thane to determine how he had triggered the stop, but his hands had been in plain view for the whole ride. The lift slowly ascended again, inching up through the shaft opening. As their heads came up over the surface of the floor, they looked around the sparse garage interior. Thane expected that Uncle Jesse might have broken the door with a bulldozer by now to get the piano, but the door was intact, open a few inches and pressed against the block that had obviously done its job. The lift brought their feet to floor level, and they stepped off.

  “I like your security system,” Clay said, pointing to the blocks that obstructed both garage doors.

  “It’s simple, and it works,” Thane said, hurrying to the entry door. He closed it and locked the knob. He then made a quick pass, walking by each window to make sure it was still sealed with its paper covering. He went back to the entry door, spread his hands on the block and looked over his shoulder at them.

  “Do we need to step outside?” Morana asked.

  “No, just don’t move for a minute,” Thane said. He went to the door and flipped a light switch. The garage went dark. The hairline seams of light that streamed from the edges of the covered windows were inadequate to see what Thane was doing.

  His feet scuffed a few times as he moved the block that buttressed the entry door. Then he passed by Clay and Morana to the opposite side of the garage. Through the floor, they felt several faint vibrations a few seconds apart. Thane’s footsteps returned to the entry door, and the lights came back on.

  The work block had been shifted far enough from the entry door to allow it to open.

  “Amazing,” Morana said.

  “You are a phenomenon,” Clay added.

  Thane opened the door and looked out. He turned back to them and said, “There’s no one in the backyard, but my uncle might be in the house. You should leave quickly.”

  “Why?” Morana said. “He won’t recognize me.”

  “He has already asked about your Explorer. It’ll be easier for me if he doesn’t see you. He asks a lot of questions.”

  Morana and Clay exited, and while Clay got into the passenger seat of the Explorer, Morana went to Thane and kissed his cheek. “I don’t want you to worry. Remember, you will always be in control.”

  Thane nodded.

  Morana tossed her bag into the back of the Explorer before climbing into the driver’s seat.

  Thane watched as they drove from the driveway. He went back inside the garage, closed and locked the garage door. He opened a panel on one of the walls and flipped a switch to change power to the sub-lair from the disconnected solar panels to the garage’s wired power. He then descended to the sub-lair and went to the end of the corridor where his expansion of the sub-lair had stopped. He quarried a new block, 7 feet long by 4 feet high. He transported it into the trap floor chamber where Waylon’s body still lay sprawled on the floor. He sliced off the entire face of the block, creating a six-inch slab that he set aside. He then hollowed out the block, creating a perfectly planed sarcophagus.

  He took Waylon’s legs and worked to heave the body over the edge, and into the rectangular cavity. It failed to completely fall inside. Instead, it hung partially over the edge, twisted in a grotesque position. Thane struggled to push and drag the body until it fell, thudding inside.

  He cleaned the blood from edges and placed the 700-pound slab over it. To prevent any air or moisture seepage from the corpse, he used a mortar epoxy and fluorocarbon alphatic resin to permanently seal it.

  He removed his tools from the chamber, returning a few minutes later with gloves and cleaning supplies. He moved Waylon’s sarcophagus to a place beside the door in preparation to transport it to the surface. In less than thirty minutes, Thane had removed all traces of Waylon’s demise. After thoroughly cleaning every drop of blood from the chamber, he had planned to move the body as far away from the sub-lair as possible.

  But as Thane stood in the doorway, looking at the sealed sarcophagus, a strange, unexpected feeling came over him. Waylon was now trapped for eternity, placed within a tomb created by the person he had mercilessly victimized for a lifetime. The symbolism of it offset the angst Thane had anticipated from Waylon’s intrusion into the sub-lair. The sarcophagus visually represented a permanent end to Waylon’s ability to torment him. Looking at it brought about an unexpected comfort.

  Thane slowly walked around what felt more like a monument representing victory over injustice. He knew that the Egyptians believed that the souls of entombed Pharaohs lived within the chambers in which they were buried. If true, Waylon was trapped here and would be forced to observe—according to Morana—many future victims settle scores with bullies like himself.

  Thane repositioned the sarcophagus to the center of the floor. After pausing in the doorway to look back at it, he gathered up his supplies and exited the chamber.

  He ascended from the sub-lair to the garage. When he emerged through the open shaft, the lift slowed to a stop. He stepped off and checked the door. Not only was it still intact, but it was closed and latched. He went to the corner of the garage and pulled an old gray blanket from the piano his uncle so desperately wanted, revealing its pristine, polished finish.

  He covered the piano again and went to the door. He opened it and looked out into the back yard. The painters were gone, and the chainsaw in front had gone silent.

  As he looked at the back of the house, something drew his attention to the kitchen window. He thought he saw the slightest nudge of the curtain. He stared at it for a few moments longer, but it remained still.

  He went to the
back door of the house and opened it. “Uncle Jesse?” There was no answer. All the lights were off, and the house was silent. He went inside and called again. “Uncle Jesse?” He passed through the kitchen with his head cocked, listening. In the hallway, he smelled food. A few more steps and he found the source in the living room. Crumpled fast food bags and ketchup-smeared food containers littered the coffee table and sofa.

  He went down the hallway toward the master bedroom. “Uncle Jesse?” Still, no answer. He leaned into the master bedroom. It was untouched since he had cleaned it that morning. He went to the window and checked out front. The workers’ truck was gone, and Uncle Jesse’s car was no longer parked in the driveway.

  Thane was about to turn from the windows when a voice behind him said, “Where did you go?”

  Thane spun to find Uncle Jesse leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.

  “You scared me,” Thane said.

  “Guilty conscience?”

  “Not at all. I thought you were gone. I was only startled because you snuck up on me.”

  “Speaking of sneaking, I want you to tell me how you got to the garage from the house?”

  “When?”

  “When you left me an hour ago—don’t play dumb, boy!”

  “I walked. How else would I get there?”

  “No, no, no,” Uncle Jesse waved off the answer. “We were having a conversation in the backyard when you stormed off into the house. I followed you inside, and you were gone. I searched for you every-damned-where in this house except inside the toilet. Then you come strolling out of the garage an hour later after vanishing into thin air. I want you to explain that to me.”

  “I can’t explain why you didn’t see me. Maybe I went to the garage when you weren’t looking.”

  “Bullshit! I saw that Ford Explorer pull away from the garage. I went to the garage door less than a minute later, and it was already blocked with that big-ass column again. I need to know what you and your visitors are doing on my property and how you are moving that tonnage so quickly.”

  Thane looked at him, not replying.

  “If you’re gonna be a stubborn ass, I’ll kick you off the property tomorrow.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Uncle Jesse squinted at him. “What did you just say?”

  “Do what you have to do.”

  Uncle puffed a laugh through his nose. “What the hell has gotten into you, boy? An hour ago, you were begging and crying for me to change my mind about selling, and then just like that you’re over it?”

  “You’re selling, and there’s nothing I can do about it. You told me the sooner I got used to the idea, the better, right?” Thane went to the door and shouldered his way into the hallway. “It smells in here.”

  “I had food brought in for the workers,” Uncle Jesse said, following him. “You need to get the living room cleaned up.”

  “No,” Thane said.

  “Wait a minute,” Uncle Jesse said, shoving Thane’s shoulder from behind.

  Thane stopped in front of his bedroom door and turned back. “Are you going to pay me?”

  Uncle Jesse smiled and poked his tongue into his cheek. “Oh, I see… You’re feeling uppity because you think you have nothing to lose.”

  “Clean up your own mess.”

  Uncle Jesse crossed his arms, gaping at Thane. “You better listen, or I will make you sorry. Now, take your ass into the living room and clean up that goddamn trash.”

  Thane ignored him and entered his bedroom. He stopped and covered his mouth. The closet doors had been pulled from their hinges, one of them lying on the floor. The other hung barely connected. “What have you done?” he said.

  Uncle Jesse entered the doorway. “You must have forgotten that I own every square inch of this property—including the closets.”

  “You had no right to come into this room—we had an agreement.”

  “Oh, calm down, boy. It’s not like you were hiding anything in there. I don’t understand why you had the closet all locked up like you were hoarding gold bars, but there wasn’t anything inside worth a shit.”

  Thane picked up one of the closet doors and made a half-hearted effort to reattach it before throwing the door to the floor. He brushed off his hands and said, “You’re lucky that you didn’t find what these closet doors protected.”

  “Oh?” Uncle Jesse came closer and looked inside. He grabbed some clothes that hung there and shoved him aside. He examined the floor and walls. “Maybe you’re going insane because, like I said, there’s nothing in here.” He stepped back, stared at Thane, and then wagged his finger. “I always figured something about you wasn’t quite right. Like you weren’t well in the head, but my news about selling must have triggered some sort of mental breakdown or something. Whatever it is, you’ve got problems.”

  “Your problems are bigger than mine.”

  Uncle Jesse smirked. “What the hell do you know about my problems?”

  Thane leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “First of all, your marriage would be over if it wasn’t for me.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I wash your car at the office,” Thane said. “I see the receipts stuffed under the driver’s floormat... I wonder if Aunt Gina knows about your gambling problem. Even if she does, she has no idea how much money you’ve lost, and it’s only getting worse for you. This is why you have to sell this place.”

  Uncle Jesse’s mouth dropped open. “What I choose to share with your aunt is none of your goddamn business.”

  “Of course, it isn’t. I also wonder if your corporate bosses know that you’ve cooked the books to cover your debt.”

  “What?” Uncle Jesse’s face went flush.

  “How about the women you bring into this house from the ‘service’ you use?” Thane air-quoted. “Does Aunt Gina know about the hookers, too?”

  Uncle Jesse covered his face and exhaled through his fingers. “Alright, listen. What if I were to take care of your first month’s rent in a new place. You know—help you get on your feet.”

  “All of a sudden you want to help me?” Thane rolled his eyes.

  “Obviously, I’m in a… difficult position. So, I would hope that considering my generous offer, we could put the past behind us. Your past... and my past.”

  “I’d be giving you a lot in exchange for a month’s rent. Doesn’t seem proportionate, does it?”

  “What if we made it a year? Think about it… a year would set you up real nice.”

  “You couldn’t possibly afford to pay my rent somewhere else for a year.”

  “Dammit, boy, what the hell do you want? Where do you think you will live when you don’t even have a job? We can both come out better for it if you work with me.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “So, you aren’t willing to negotiate here?”

  Thane shrugged.

  “You expect me to walk away and leave you with the ability to hold all this shit over my head? What do you want? Let’s settle it.”

  “Put my name back on the property title.”

  Uncle Jesse laughed. “You’ve got to be out of your goddamned mind.”

  “You wanted a solution, I gave you one. Like I said before, your problems are bigger than mine.”

  “I see,” Uncle Jesse said. He shoved the bedroom door with his foot, and it slammed shut.

  “What are you doing?” Thane said, backing away.

  Uncle Jesse strolled toward him. “I thought you would be a small problem in the process of selling the property, but I was wrong. I’m not going to let you in my life, but for such a scrawny shit, you’ve created a big problem.” He backed Thane to the wall.

  “Wait! I won’t tell Aunt Gina,” Thane said, holding up his hands.

  “Boy, you have the nerve to threaten me, then take it back, and you expect me to trust you to keep your mouth shut?”

  “I won’t tell—I sw
ear!”

  Uncle Jesse came closer, closing in. “I wish I could believe you, but you’ve shown your hand, and I can’t let you play any of those cards. You’re stupid, just like your mother.”

  Thane eyed the closet, wondering if he could hurdle the broken doors and activate the lift before his uncle could get him. Perhaps Uncle Jesse’s shock at seeing the lift move would buy enough time to escape out of his reach. But Uncle Jesse certainly wouldn’t sell the property after seeing the lift in action, and he would harass Thane for answers—forever. Knowledge of the sub-lair had been shared with too many people already.

  Uncle Jesse grabbed his shirt, squeezing it into his fists. “You always were a coddled little shit. I should have kicked you out the day I took the property.”

  “You will pay for anything you do to me.”

  “Another threat?” Uncle Jesse slammed Thane against the wall and then threw him to the floor.

  The fall knocked the wind out of Thane, and he coughed, then screamed, “No! Let me go!”

  Uncle Jesse leered down at him while Thane swung his fists, landing a few useless blows to Uncle Jesse’s stomach and shoulders. Uncle Jesse delivered a blow to Thane’s jaw.

  Thane twisted and managed to press his legs against the wall. He used all his strength to thrust toppling Uncle Jesse to his side.

  Uncle Jesse scrambled back onto to Thane, his face contorted with rage as he began punching Thane.

  Thane blocked as many of the blows as he could, but several landed.

  “This is the beating your mama should have given you,” Uncle Jesse said, as he paused to rub his knuckles. When he rose up slightly, Thane landed a solid blow with his knee to Uncle Jesse’s groin.

  Uncle Jesse toppled to his side, moaning.

  Thane seized the opportunity, scrambling to his feet. He ran to the door and threw it open. While he raced down the hallway, he heard Uncle Jesse stumbling behind him in the bedroom. Thane sprinted through the kitchen and out the back door. He rushed into the garage, slammed the door closed, and locked the knob.

  He heard Uncle Jesse come out the back of the house yelling, “Damn you, runt.” The footsteps raced toward the garage.