Into the Darkness

by L. T. Ryan

  “The hell are you doing out here?” He aimed the shotgun at my chest, flicked it up toward my head. “How did you find me?”

  “Wasn’t too hard,” I said. “You’re a stupid son of a bitch.”

  Pennington smiled. “We both know that’s not true.”

  “What does it matter? I found you. You’ve lost. Let her go and she and I will be on our way. You can live out the rest of your pathetic life here in the woods.”

  “Shut up, Tanner.” He took a few steps back, setting his feet down carefully. “Now get up.”

  I moved my hands a few inches.

  “No, no, no.” He pulled out a pair of handcuffs then tossed them at my knees. “Put them on, then get up.”

  He was content letting me cuff myself, so I kept my hands in front. A few moments later, I walked past him toward the house.

  “How’d you get out here without me seeing?” I asked.

  Pennington didn’t reply.

  “Didn’t see a back door when I checked the place out.”

  “Yup,” he said. “And just like you didn’t see me, no one is ever going to find your bodies.”

  Was she dead already? I tightened my chest and arms, pulling the stitches tight. I ignored the pain. An outburst now solved nothing. I had to get inside and see for myself.

  “When did you spot me?” I said.

  “Almost right after you arrived,” he said.

  “Why’d you wait so long?”

  “Had to make sure you were alone. I mean, I figured you were stupid enough to do this by yourself. Just had to verify.”

  I climbed the steps to the front door and waited.

  “Do the honors,” he said.

  I reached out with my shackled hands and turned the knob. Warm, oak-laden air rushed through the crack. It went to work warming my chilled face. I hesitated on the threshold for a moment. Stepping in led to a new reality, one which I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.

  “Go, Tanner,” he said. “There’s nothing waiting there.”

  Did he mean Cassie?

  I pushed the door aside and stepped into the dimly lit room, scanning from left to right. A small corner kitchen contained a stove, fridge, and coffee maker. A square table was placed nearby. An open door revealed a bedroom. I turned toward the fireplace where a couple of chairs and a sofa faced each other.

  “Mitch.” Cassie bit her bottom lip as she rose.

  “Sit your ass down,” Pennington said.

  She wiped her eyes and lowered herself back into the chair. She had on a green mock-turtleneck sweater with the sleeves pulled up to her elbows and a pair of yoga pants. She looked pale, gaunt, and bruised in a few spots. I could only imagine what she had gone through in that dungeon. She had to live with that for the rest of her life, along with all the other shit she dealt with each day.

  “Have a seat next to her, Mitch.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Pennington and leveled as hard a stare as I could, given the current balance of power. He didn’t seem impressed.

  “Are you okay?” Cassie asked as I sat in the chair next to hers.

  The rough fabric caught on my shirt. It smelled like a cat had inhabited the cushions for years.

  “I’m all right.” I smiled at her. “Glad to see you’re alive.”

  “If you two don’t shut up, neither of you will be alive.” Pennington rested the shotgun on the wall and pulled two Smith & Wessons off the mantle. He sat on the couch opposite our chairs, keeping the pistols trained on us. “How’d you find me?”

  “Dumb luck,” I said.

  Pennington smiled, shook his head, then fired a shot into the chair I was sitting in. The bullet entered between my legs. The singed fabric stunk worse than burning hair. I tried not to flinch, but the blast caught me by surprise. I clenched my jaw tight, felt my nostrils flare wide as my fingertips dug into the chair’s arms.

  “Do I need to ask again?” he said.

  I thought about telling him Cassie’s spirit friends had led me there, but figured that’d result in another round being fired. And that one might not miss its mark. I glanced around the room, taking inventory. Wasn’t a whole lot to take in.

  “The task force,” I said.

  He nodded slowly, realizing I’d figured out his secret. “So, who gave up this place?”

  I recalled a name from the list and blurted it out. “Jamison.”

  Pennington stared at me for fifteen seconds. “Did Novak burn?”

  “We assumed one of the bodies was his.”

  He rose and paced around the couch. He had the look of a man considering how many loose ends remained. Two were sitting right in front of him. We’d be the simplest, and would only remain alive as long as he needed information from me. I had to come up with a way to keep him asking questions.

  “Why’d you keep Cassie alive?” I asked. “Couldn’t bring yourself to kill her?”

  He stopped and leveled the pistol at her. “You wanna find out?”

  “Not particularly.” I kept my demeanor level, refusing to give him the shock factor he begged for.

  “She’s a bargaining chip.” He stood behind the couch, hands resting on the back, pistols aimed loosely at us. “I had a hunch you’d figure it out. Didn’t see much point in staying around Savannah and finding out for sure. If you came calling and managed to surprise me, I had Cassie here to secure my release.”

  “Cool with me,” I said. “Leave her here and go. I won’t stop you.”

  Pennington’s smile broadened. “I like you, Tanner. I really do. It’s almost going to hurt when I kill you.”

  “Pretty sure it’s going to hurt a little bit. At least for me.”

  He chuckled. “You got balls, my man.” His smile faded. “How much does Cervantes know?”

  “I assume all of it.”

  “Where’s he now?”

  I shrugged. “Back in Savannah, I suppose.”

  “He has nothing to do with this?”

  “He’s chasing his own leads. I told him he was looking in the wrong places. We had it out, and I was informed I was no longer welcome and would be charged with obstruction of justice if I set foot in Savannah again.”

  Pennington shook his head. “He really couldn’t stand you. Probably blames you for this mess, too.”

  “I can live with that.”

  He lifted one of the pistols, wagged it, smiled. “Not for much longer.”

  A light on the mantle flickered red and a low beep sounded. Pennington glanced at the window, then back at me. He stiffened, held both pistols up. “The hell was that?”

  I shrugged. “Your place, man. I don’t know what you got rigged.”

  “Who’s out there?” He kept his gaze and an S&W on me while he aimed the other at the window. It was the same one I’d seen him looking out of. Or maybe that had been Cassie. It appeared she was free to move about.

  A second light turned red, and another alarm sounded. Pennington swung his head toward the door. Apparently, each light and tone matched a specific trigger he had outside of the cabin.

  I could have sat there attempting to figure it out.

  Instead I burst forward, planted a foot on the couch and jumped over it.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  The pistol wasn’t the only thing I had left buried outside. My phone was hidden amongst the leaves as well. If they found the phone and not me, they’d know something had happened and they would split up. Pennington had the cabin for one purpose and this was it. A hideout. He was a smart guy and wouldn’t leave himself blind should someone come after him. While I hadn’t suspected he knew I was there the entire time, he’d know when we made our move. It was a calculated risk on our part. The three of us had the ability to take him out even if he knew we were there.

  The plan hadn’t gone accordingly. But Sam and Cervantes tripping the alarms had given me the moment I needed to make a move. I planted my foot firmly on the couch cushion and held my fists in front. Pennington caught sight of me ou
t of the corner of his eyes and spun to brace himself. I drove my fists into his throat, let them slide around the sides, and then my fingers came together behind his neck. The handcuff chain dug in under his Adam’s apple.

  He’d dropped one of the pistols as we slammed into the wall. It thumped on the ground, and in our shuffling, skated across the floor after one of us kicked it. He drove his palm into my face. It caught on my nose and drove my head back. His thumb worked toward my eye socket. I’d once heard of a case where a woman gouged this old guy’s eyes out and then shoved them into his mouth, causing him to choke to death. Hell if that was happening to me.

  I had one of Pennington’s arms trapped under mine. He slammed the other pistol into my back a few times. It wouldn’t be long before he worked his arm around and shot me. I had to neutralize him. I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled him close to me, then yanked back hard, driving his skull into the solid wall. There was no paneling or plaster here. Just solid wood beams. A couple times was all it took for his grip on my face to loosen. But he continued to slam the butt of the pistol into my back.

  Cassie ran around the couch. I spotted her kneeling down, reaching for the pistol. Cannon fire erupted behind my back. Pennington had seen her, too, and turned his Smith & Wesson on her. I drove my knee into his groin three times, then head butted him until his body went limp.

  “You okay?” I yelled, mostly so I could hear myself over the intense ringing.

  She crawled from behind the couch and stared up at me. “I’m good.”

  I pulled my hands free from Pennington’s head and let him collapse on the ground. But I was nowhere done despite the voice in my head telling me to gain control over the situation by securing the firearms. I dropped to a knee on his diaphragm. His face reddened as he struggled for air.

  “You son of a bitch,” I said. “You wore a badge, man. You wore a goddamn badge.”

  He strained to stare at me. I wondered what insults he wished to hurl at me. I didn’t give him a chance. I drew both hands up, then smashed my fists into his mouth. I delivered blow after blow, like slamming a sledgehammer down on the guy’s face, knocking his teeth into his throat. In the background, Cassie called my name, but I didn’t stop. I wanted to kill this man with my bare hands.

  Cassie darted toward the door and opened it. Sam and Cervantes rushed in.

  I continued to pummel Pennington, ignoring the fire from broken bones in my hand.

  Sam grabbed me and pulled me off. Five feet away I saw the damage I had done to the guy. His nose was split and driven to the left, eyes were swollen shut, blood poured from his mouth. Cervantes knelt down next to his former partner and felt for a pulse. He looked up at Sam with tightly drawn lips and shook his head. I almost missed that he then wrapped his thick hand around Pennington’s neck. Cervantes’s forearm muscles rippled as he finished the job.

  Sam pulled me further away. Staring into my savage eyes, what did he think about what I had done? Would he have done the same? Did he wish it had been him in the room? I stared back at him while forcing ragged breaths through my lungs.

  “It’s done, Mitch.” Sam squeezed my shoulders. “You finished it.”

  Cervantes stood over his partner’s body. “We need to deal with this.”

  “What do you suggest?” Sam said.

  “Burn it.”

  “Too much damage,” Sam said. “Can’t contain it and keep it from spreading.”

  “He got out of the house without me seeing,” I said. “He’s gotta have a trap door or something in here.”

  Cassie went to the kitchen and pushed the table out of the way. “It’s here.”

  We all took a look at it. If she hadn’t seen him open it, there’s no way we would have found it.

  “How?” Sam asked.

  Cassie pulled a rod off the top of the refrigerator and lifted a cutout in the floorboard. Cervantes pulled the trap door open. We were hoping for a tunnel, but it just led under the house.

  “We can dump him out here in the woods,” Cervantes said. “Who’s ever gonna come across it?”

  “Never say never,” I said. “I heard a chainsaw nearby earlier. There’s people around.”

  In the end we buried him by moonlight a few hundred yards from the cabin. We cleaned the place up and removed any evidence that we’d been there. The look in Cervantes’ eyes made me wonder if he’d return again to seek insight into how this had happened.

  I knew I’d never return. In more ways than one, too.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  The oversized rocker rolled over the decking with a rhythmic click-clack. The vodka and Mexican mineral water went down smooth. Didn’t even need a lime. I’d already had a couple, and Cassie seemed willing to keep them coming.

  We’d returned to Savannah that morning after finding a doctor who checked us out with no questions asked. I’d gathered my stuff from the old lady’s apartment and thanked her for her hospitality. She told me I had a room there anytime I wanted to visit, and said with a wink she hoped that’d be often.

  There was a time this past week when I thought that would be the case. Now I didn’t know.

  A cool breeze blew past. The skin on my arm pricked as the sun’s final rays dissipated. The screen door slammed. I looked back and smiled at Cassie as she held out the drink to me. The wind whipped her dress and hair to the side. A smile formed behind the wayward auburn strands.

  “You gonna be okay?” She eased into her seat and stared out at her overgrown lawn.

  “Me?” I placed my drink on the table between us. “Aren’t you the one who took the brunt in this ordeal?”

  She held her glass close to her chest. “After dying, everything else seems so… ordinary.”

  “There’s nothing ordinary about what you went through.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about it or think about it or relive it in any way. I still have everything going on around me. People need my help. Dwelling on this will squash any desire I have to be there for them.”

  “People?”

  “Yeah, in a way. I don’t know, Mitch. Call them whatever you want. They aren’t going to leave me alone. I can’t let what happened keep me from fulfilling what it is I need to do. This is my mission now.”

  “Do you have to do it here?”

  She looked away. “The danger’s gone. Pennington is dead, and there is no way Novak is ever getting out again. Maybe I’ll move to another house, but I feel safe here. Savannah is my home.”

  “What about a place like Philly? Lots of folks needing help up there.”

  Cassie set her glass on the teal metal table between us. She rose and walked over to me. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the rocker’s arms. I let the chair come to a stop as she leaned in. Her hair tickled my cheek. Our lips met for a few seconds.

  She bit her lip as she pulled back, shaking her head. “It’s gone.”

  “It’s gone,” I repeated her words. Too much had happened. Her abduction had changed something within her. And it had changed my feelings toward her. We had worked together for so long, and the original spark that developed all those years ago smoldered over time until the flame erupted. But the pain she endured, and the anxiety I faced trying to find her, had stifled the fire. Might’ve put it out completely.

  She fell into her chair and it rolled back almost to the tipping point. “I’m doomed, you know. I’ll never find someone. It seems like they won’t let me.”

  “They?”

  “Someone, or something, knows that if I find peace and happiness, they won’t get to use me anymore. And I guess, right now, I feel I need to be used.”

  We sat in silence as the orange and pink faded into the blue night sky. Stars spotted the darkness amid silver, wispy clouds.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  I handed her my empty glass as she headed inside, then got up and leaned against the deck rail. A neighbor had fired up a grill. The smell of ribs hung thick in the air.

&nbs
p; The screen door squeaked open.

  “What do you say we order a pizza or something?” I said.

  Cassie remained silent.

  I turned and saw her standing in front of the door, clutching something to her chest. Her eyes glistened in the dim light.

  “What is it?”

  She moved one hand, revealing the postcard I had brought her. It seemed like ages ago when I asked her to see if she could gain any knowledge from it. I dropped it on the kitchen table after she invited me in earlier.

  I reached for her hand and pulled her closer. “What do you know, Cassie?”

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. A thin layer of tears spread between her eyelids. “He’s in Denver with Marissa. She’s messed up. I almost want to say she’s brainwashed. Robbie feels like he’s being held against his will in a… I guess you would call it a commune.” She looked up at me with glassy eyes. “He’s okay otherwise. He hasn’t been hurt. They keep him separated from his mother a lot of the time. They keep him busy with work, and he’s being told he has to think like they do if he wants to survive.”

  I searched her eyes for more, but that was all she had. “Denver. You’re sure?”

  The postcard had been postmarked from the Mile High city. Didn’t make sense that Marissa would let him send it from there and then remain in place.

  “He’s there.” She extended the postcard to me. “Trust me. As much as you ever have, Mitch, trust me.”

  I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I have to go, Cassie. I have to go right now.”

  “I know. I already called for a cab to take you to the airport.”

  We retreated into the house. A few seconds later we heard the vehicle pull up to the house and honk. Cassie helped me gather my things and walked me to her front door.

  I stared into her eyes for a moment. “Maybe, someday—”

  She put her finger to my mouth. “Just go, Mitch. Call me if you need help.”

  I focused on a mole on the back of the driver’s head for the entire ride. It kept me from rehashing everything I was trying to stifle. I dragged my carryon to the check-in counter and purchased a ticket for a flight to Atlanta leaving in less than an hour. The layover would be long, but by morning I’d be in Denver.