Into the Darkness

by L. T. Ryan

  I spun around to check the brand.

  “Shit.”

  The coffeemaker refused to cooperate. On the top were three buttons, labeled “two,” “four,” and “six.” Select one of those and it would turn off in that many hours.

  I knew it couldn’t have been two. I was there more than two hours ago. Was it on at that time? I couldn’t say yes for sure, but I did smell coffee when I came in. So between five and roughly seven-thirty am. It was a start, and we could cross reference the time I was here earlier, along with the dog-walking woman’s estimates from the window of her breakfast nook.

  Draped over the back of a chair was one of Cassie’s shirts. I grabbed it, held it to my face, inhaled her scent.

  I pictured her walking through the house, alone, and encountering someone. I felt her fear. My response wasn’t hers, though. She knew the man, and seeing him caused every muscle in her body to cramp, locking up and rendering her immobile. But in time I knew she’d adapt, and overcome her assailant.

  I hoped so, at least.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Glass sliced through Novak’s skin like a hot knife through melted butter. Blood flowed warm down his back, pooling near his waistband. He limped around the vehicle, every step sending pain up his right leg from his ankle to his knee. It didn’t look broken. Time would tell, he supposed.

  He had managed to strike Cassie and free her grasp from the wheel. Had he not, he surely would’ve been ejected from the car, through the windshield, and splattered among the trees. Instead, he grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it toward him. Cassie’s foot must’ve slid off the gas pedal, too. The car spun and decelerated and hit at an angle that spread out the impact along the driver’s side. He didn’t escape unscathed, but the wounds he suffered when he collided with the side window weren’t life-threatening.

  After pulling Cassie free of the wreckage, he slung her over his shoulder. She still hadn’t come to. He wasn’t sure how far he could carry her. She wasn’t heavy, but damn if his lower leg wasn’t screaming at him. Luckily, he didn’t have to make it to the van, only into the woods far enough that they wouldn’t be seen if someone had heard the wreck and found the car. The chances of that were slim, he admitted to himself. Still, he had to remain vigilant. He’d only been free for less than a month, and going back to prison was not in his plans. He’d rather die in a hailstorm of lead than go back there.

  Cassie coughed, then moaned. Novak bent forward and let her slide to the ground onto her back. He found a thick tree trunk to lean back against and catch his breath. She wasn’t going to get up and run off. She could try to crawl away, but he’d jump on top of her. Her eyes fluttered open, wide at first, then squinted. She looked to the side, up, down. She licked the dirt off her lips, then spat it out. Her gaze came to rest on him.

  “Hello, Cassie,” he said through heavy breaths. He’d managed to stay in shape in prison, but the wounds from the glass and the pain in his leg combined with carrying her in the humidity had left him winded.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  He looked up at the green foliage above and around them, held out his arms. “Oh, you know, nowhere.”

  She started hyperventilating. It seemed as though the situation had slapped her back to full consciousness.

  Novak drew the pistol from his waistband. He’d somehow managed to find it after the car came to rest against that tree.

  “Cassie,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.”

  She lifted herself up on her elbows. He pushed off the tree. A hundred crows swooped down and settled on the branches above. It looked like night for a moment. Their shrill voices drowned out everything else.

  Novak motioned for Cassie to rise, then aimed his pistol toward a narrow path. She complied without hesitation. Aside from being rendered unconscious, she appeared to have escaped the accident unscathed.

  “Good girl,” he said, unsure if she could hear him over the squawking from the trees.

  A few minutes later they were walking along a set of ruts in the ground. The left path. The one he’d wanted her to take when she had decided to take matters into her own hands. What was she thinking? Novak gripped the pistol tight in anger. She could have killed him in the most unceremonious of manners. It would have been weeks before someone came across his remains.

  At times, Novak could be a normal, thoughtful person. He felt empathy for those in dire situations, was cordial to restaurant wait staff and store clerks, and he pretty much left things as they were in the world. But that was not always the case. Sometimes the anger would rise. One he couldn’t control. Violence had become the only way for it to subside.

  This was one of those times.

  Novak rushed forward, ignoring the pain in his leg. Like a soccer player, he planted on his good leg and used the other to sweep Cassie’s feet out from under her. She seemed to freeze mid-air before crashing hard on her side. There was no yell or cry. There couldn’t be. He stood over her, staring at her twisted, reddening face, her mouth open, trying to force out a scream for which the required oxygen didn’t exist.

  He reached down, grabbed a fistful of her t-shirt, and yanked. The fabric tore from her collar to mid-breast, revealing a pink and blue bra. He let go and swung his arm wildly, grasping and coming up with her hair.

  She still hadn’t taken a breath. Her face had turned dark red. Primal moans escaped from her mouth. He didn’t care. He pulled upward until she was on her feet again. He dragged her along the path by her hair.

  When she finally pulled in a gulp of air, it sounded like someone emerging from underwater, their lungs about to burst. She sucked it in, coughed, heaved like she was going to vomit.

  “You puke and I’ll do it again,” he said.

  She bowed forward, hands on her knees, breathing hard and loud. One yank of her hair and she’d go flying forward.

  “We’re almost there,” he said. “Stay on your feet or this forest will be your grave. No one will ever find you here, Cassie. The creatures will pick your bones clean before the hunters bag the first buck of the season.”

  She staggered forward, one step much shorter than the other, in obvious pain. He expected later he’d see a large black mark on her right hip. And at that point, the rage drained like water swirling down a drain. He moved in closer, placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezed lightly.

  “Forgive me, Cassie. This was not the appropriate place or time.”

  He withdrew before she could react. It wasn’t smart getting that close with his weapon out. He knew it. Cassie was a survivor. And she probably prided herself on that. Probably took classes. Self-defense classes. So that she could deal with someone like Novak.

  “How’s that working out for you, Cassie?” he muttered.

  She looked back at him, confused. “What?”

  He shook his head and prodded her forward. A short while later, looking ahead, he saw the sun glinting off the chrome side mirror. Cassie stopped. She must’ve seen it, too.

  “Keep going,” he said.

  “Who’s there?” she said.

  “No one,” he said. “That’s my van.”

  Novak watched her face draw tight. Fear? Anxiety? Her eyes darted left and right, looking for a way out, no doubt. She wouldn’t find it. Wouldn’t get more than ten feet before he shot her. Judging by the slackness that overtook her features, she knew it, too.

  “What’s inside it?” Cassie asked.

  “Let’s go find out.”

  She didn’t seem all that keen on doing so until Novak threatened her. Again. It was a game he’d grow weary of if they didn’t get out of the woods soon.

  When they reached the van, Novak pulled back on the handle and slid the side door open. He had Cassie wait with her arms around a nearby tree, cheek against the bark, ass toward him. He pulled a length of rope from a cargo bay.

  As he approached, Novak instructed Cassie to reach her arms behind her back. She failed to comply, forcing him to drive his knee i
nto her lower back and wrench her arms around. He secured them at the wrists with the rope. She grunted as he tightened the knot, digging the rope into her flesh.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Let me know how it feels, Cassie.”

  “Fuck you,” she said.

  “Not yet.” He ran his hand over the curve of her hip.

  She craned her head around and spat. The trajectory was all wrong, though. Didn’t come close to hitting him. Novak laughed as he returned to the van. He waited for a second and watched her. Would she run? Was she that brave? Oddly, he wanted her to try to escape. He desired the chance to hunt her down. Again.

  But she didn’t move. Strange. Perhaps she was waiting for a better time or place. If only she knew this was her best and last chance to attain freedom. From this point forward, Cassie belonged to him.

  Novak opened the glove box and retrieved a black bag. He carried it over to where Cassie stood with her forehead pressed against the tree bark. Inside the carry case, a metal syringe and bottle of fluid banged together with a soft thud with every step he took.

  He stopped a few feet away from her. No point in getting any closer yet. It would only give her an opportunity to wreck his plans and make things more difficult for him.

  Novak unzipped the case slowly, hoping to spark some fear in the woman. It was obviously a zipper, but to what? His pants? Something else? A smile played on his face as he leaned to the side and searched hers for signs of a reaction. Sadly, there was none. He unscrewed the lid from the bottle. The needle encountered a slight resistance and then slipped through the membrane. Clear liquid rushed into the chamber as he drew back the plunger.

  “This will pinch a little, Cassie,” he said, yanking her shorts down, exposing pale skin. “But there’s no harm being done.”

  Before she could react, he penetrated the flesh of her right buttocks with the needle and injected the fluid into her. Her glute flexed and tightened, but it was too late. The drug has found its way into her system. Cassie swayed to the side, stumbled, started to collapse. Novak lunged forward and broke her fall for her.

  “Don’t go passing out on me just yet.” He stroked her hair while easing her to a seated position. “We’ve got to get you inside the van.”

  Her eyes glazed over. Her stare was distant. Her pupils grew until there was nothing but black and white and tiny strings of red. She mumbled something incoherent.

  Novak wrapped one arm around her, lifted her off the ground into a standing position. He draped her other arm over his shoulders. She felt like a noodle, all wobbly. Not the first time he’d had to assist one of his victims in such a way. He could carry her, but why waste the energy when she could sort of walk? She managed a step here and there, but her feet mostly dragged along the ground.

  They reached the van. Novak untied the rope around her wrists, then laid her on her back. At her torso, thighs, and ankles there were two steel eyelets on either side of her body. He grabbed two more lengths of rope and strapped her thighs and ankles to the floor. With the third rope, he retied her wrists in front of her.

  Then he climbed into the front seat and navigated out of the woods.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I went through every drawer, cabinet, and closet in Cassie’s place in search of any scrap of evidence I could use to locate her. My gut told me it was a waste of time. The trail started at the triple-homicide crime scene with her watch. She’d intentionally left it there knowing three detectives would be by at some point.

  But it only told us she had been there.

  Where was she now?

  I paced down the dark hallway, checking my cell every few seconds, hoping a text or call would come in from Pennington or Cervantes. I’d already looked past Pennington’s behavior earlier today. He was in the same place I was. Scared shitless for Cassie. That would affect any man’s emotions. Sure as hell did mine. On any other day, I’d have knocked him flat out.

  At least they couldn’t suspend me in Savannah.

  In one of the kitchen drawers there was a keychain with five or so keys attached to it. I grabbed it and tested each in the front door. One matched. I removed it from the chain and tucked it in my wallet so I could lock up on my way out. No sense in letting anyone inside the house to cover up their tracks.

  Back outside, the humidity enveloped me. It was more stifling today than it had been. That was saying something. The day had started off sunny, but now the skies thickened with dark gray. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Maybe the rain could wash the last eight hours or so away.

  I imagined by this point the forensics team was combing through the crime scene again for clues as to Cassie’s disappearance. It was their job, of course. And things had to be done by the book. But little doubt was left in my mind who perpetrated the crime.

  I knew little about the man aside from the few details Cassie had told me over the years. I put the chances of anyone inside the Chatham-Savannah Police Department telling me any more about Novak at less than slim. If I didn’t come up with something helpful on my own, they’d blacklist me from participating in the investigation. That’d be a bad idea.

  The first raindrops thudded on the ground, prompting me to get back to the rental. A sheet of rain raced toward me. I managed to slide into the car as the brunt of the storm hit. After wiping my hands off on my jeans, I pulled out my cell and placed a call.

  “‘Bout damn time you called me back,” Sam said.

  “Look, bro, I know you’re ready to light into me, but we got a hell of a situation down here.”

  Sam’s tone changed. “What’s going on?”

  “Any chance you can get away for a couple days?”

  “None.”

  “You sure?”

  “I really doubt it.” He paused for a beat. “You’re making me a bit uneasy. What’s this about? You still in Savannah?”

  “Yeah, man, I’m here. Hang on.” I took a moment to compose myself. There weren’t many people I could unload my feelings on, but Sam was one. “Cassie’s been abducted.”

  “Shit. You’re kidding right? This ain’t for real.”

  “Yeah, it’s for real. And that’s not the worst part.”

  Sam said nothing. His heavy breathing filled the line.

  “Novak got her,” I said.

  “You sure?”

  “No doubt in my mind. Turns out the sonofabitch escaped from prison three weeks ago. These assholes down here didn’t bother to warn her because someone had told Novak that Cassie was in the witness relocation program. He’d never find her. And remember, he never knew her identity. Never saw her outside of the time he attacked her, and that was in the dark of night.”

  “So they figured she was safe,” Sam said. “Maybe letting her know would somehow draw his attention toward her, or at the least, cause her undue anxiety.”

  “With that girl, you never can tell.”

  “What’s that?” he said.

  “What?” I said.

  “You said ‘that girl.’ You don’t speak like that usually.”

  “Shut up, man.” I dropped the shifter into gear and eased away from Cassie’s house. “Anyway, look, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Get me anything and everything you can on Novak. I need you to dig for me, Sam. Find out who he talked to most at the prison if you can. What he preferred for lunch. His favorite porn. Anything and everything.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “One more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Get whatever you got going on wrapped up and see if you can get a couple days off.”

  “It won’t happen, Mitch. We’re seriously strapped with you out and a couple guys on special assignment. But, hey, if I can string two days off in a row, I’m there, bro.”

  We wrapped up the call. I drove around the city for a half-hour before returning to the apartment to grab a shower and change of clothes. I wasn’t sure where I’d go next, but I had to stay active. Proa
ctive. An idle mind was the tool of the devil. Sam would turn something up soon. Hopefully it was something I could take and run with.

  I parked the car about a block away from the apartment. The rain had let up. A tenor sax saturated the air with jazz that sounded like smoke and velvet. The guy playing in the square looked too young to know the tune. Hell, his sax was older than him. He’d lived that song, though. The goosebumps on my arm were a testament to that.

  Twenty-plus years as a cop had taught me how to compartmentalize. It was a necessary evil. If I hadn’t learned the skill, I’d have been out after five years. But it was only possible to stifle your feelings so much. Everything you shut out returned eventually. Usually with the force of an eighteen-wheeler slamming into a house made of matches.

  And as I opened the door to my home away from home, leaving the steamy city behind for the frigid air inside, Cassie’s predicament slammed right into me. Was it her reaching out to me?

  “I’m here, Cassie,” I whispered.

  I hadn’t managed to get the door shut when a car squealed to a stop on the street behind me.

  “Tanner,” Cervantes yelled. “We need to talk to you.”

  Chapter Forty

  “Why in God’s name are you so heavy?”

  Novak dropped Cassie to the ground. Her torso hit with a thud. It always seemed when someone was unconscious, they weighed thirty pounds heavier. He stood over her, watching the empty expression on her face. It was unlikely she felt the collision with the ground. With the drug he’d injected into her, she had three or four more hours in dreamland before she felt anything.

  She looked peaceful, lying there on her back, twisted at the waist, right leg draped over her left.

  Novak looked around the deserted overgrown field. The grass swayed in the stiff breeze left behind by the storm. Not a soul in sight. No one to stop him from doing anything he wanted. He could strip her bare and have her on the spot where she lay.