Caged Light

by Tom Howard

  “You two stop.” As the FBI agent spoke, Wyatt and Michelle did as told, freezing in their tracks. “Go search the back, I know they’re here somewhere. I’ll keep watch out here to make sure they don’t double back.” Wyatt and Michelle breathed a short-lived sigh of relief. Now there was only one obstacle between them and freedom, however, it just happened to be a highly trained weapon who would rather shoot first and ask questions later.

  Wyatt motioned and mouthed to Michelle to go behind the clerk’s counter and out the front door while he charged the agent. He figured the odds would be in his favor since there was only one of them instead of three. Though Michelle didn’t want to, she agreed. Peeking around the corner of the row, Wyatt saw the agent standing only a few feet away from the counter, thankfully a few plants provided just enough cover for Michelle to get closer to the door. Wyatt had been in similar situations, some even sketchier than this, but it was usually only his life on the line, and he wasn’t about to lose Michelle. Her heart was pounding with fear, she turned and nodded to Wyatt that she was ready, and he told her to go. Wyatt bolted at the agent like a sprinter trying to win the Olympics, gaining as much speed as possible. He completely blindsided the agent, but instead of knocking him over, Wyatt was the one who fell. It was almost as though he ran into a brick wall, the guy didn’t even budge.

  “Mr. Cage,” The agent said as he pulled his gun, aiming at Wyatt’s chest. “I was wondering when I would find you. Where’s the girl?”

  “Go to hell.”

  The hammer of the gun became cocked. “I’ll only ask one more time. I know she came in here with you, now where have you hidden her?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I came in here to get some lunch.”

  “Goodbye Mr. Cage, without her protector, we’ll find her in no time.”

  Wyatt sat there watching as time itself appeared to slow. There was nothing he could do in that moment as the trigger was being pulled further and further, ready to extinguish his life. Though adrenaline rushed through his body, his heart did not beat in fear, his eyes did not widen, and he did not beg for his life, instead, his brow furrowed in anger at a situation which was finally beyond his control. He only hoped Michelle would keep running and not look back, eventually finding a safe place to hide until the hunt for her life was over.

  Within a split second, the gun rang out as a bullet was fired; however, the agent missed and hit the floor. Wyatt had watched as Michelle snuck up behind the agent and hit him on the back of the head with a fire extinguisher, launching him forward onto the ground. Wyatt wasted no time grabbing Michelle and running. Just as they made it to the front door, the agent and the other two men began shooting, hitting everything in sight. Wyatt and Michelle jumped into the Challenger and sped away like a bat out of hell, in a hail of bullets.

  “So, friends of yours, huh?” Michelle asked, catching her breath.

  “Another lifetime ago, maybe.” Wyatt growled. “And how did you do that back there? I hit that guy with everything I had and couldn’t budge him.”

  “Maybe you didn’t hit him in the right spot, I don’t know. And since you know those guys, maybe you can tell me why they were after me.” Michelle knew Wyatt knew something but seeing as he hadn’t let any harm come to her, for the time being, she knew she could trust him.

  “To figure that out, I’d either have to ask them or find out more about your past.” Wyatt glanced over to Michelle. “But one thing is for sure, once they find you, and after you give them what they want, no matter what they promise, they will kill you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Like I said, it was another lifetime ago,” Wyatt’s jaw clenched as he remembered. “one I’m not proud of.”

  “So where do we go from here?”

  “You’re going back to the hotel where you’ll be safe, and I’m going to try finding out why these guys are after you. Plus, I want to know why scum like that is working with the FBI.”

  “Do you really think I’ll be safe there?”

  “For now.”

  Night had fallen and enclosed the city in a blanket of darkness. The sky was covered in a looming shade of grey, almost as though Heaven was about to open up and drench the world. Not a thing could be seen up there except for the occasional star which managed to poke a hole, however, its light didn’t last long as it was quickly covered. It was almost as if evil was trying to blot out the good, hiding the light of hope so it could prey upon the innocent.

  The streets below weren’t much better. As Wyatt drove, he noticed nearly every street light was out except for one or two on every other road. The city had been having some electrical problems due to the storm and it was taking more time than anticipated to correct the problems. A thief’s paradise was what Wyatt called it, with power down it meant no alarms, no cameras, and no problem hiding a body if things got too rough. All these were the reasons the police were on such high alert, people couldn’t drive more than five blocks without seeing a squad car. However, for a properly trained thief or hitter (hit man or illegal retrieval specialist) cops were no problem.

  However, none of that concerned Wyatt, instead, he was on the hunt for the blood thirsty, psychopathic killer he knew was behind the attack on his life. Although to look at Damon, one might suspect him of something as he looks like a 1950’s mob boss with the three-piece suit, gold bracelet, hat, and a hint of stubble, but unless one was looking for trouble, they would never accuse him. Rumors floated around about this guy, things like: he has been known to dismember people and mail them back to their family piece by piece, put someone in cement shoes and drop them in the ocean, both bury and burn people alive, and even throw someone off of a tall building only to be impaled prior to hitting the ground. And that’s just a taste of what Damon’s capable of, with so many people working for him, as well as the fear of being next on his list, it was no wonder he was untouchable.

  Wyatt knew getting close enough to Damon to take him out was going to be a challenge seeing as Damon always has his guard dogs with guns close at hand. But Wyatt wouldn’t be alive if he didn’t know a thing or two about beating a difficult situation.

  There was no point trying to find Damon’s main hideout as it has never been seen except by a select few. Wyatt was close at one point but he decided to leave the crew. However, Wyatt was familiar with Damon’s local haunts, and he was headed to check out a few of them. I’ve got to be out of my mind going back there, he thought as he stroked the silver cross hanging around his neck. And though those words were on his mind, his brow kept its usual furrow as he remained coiled and ready to attack, if needed. Wyatt cut down a dimly lit road on the outskirts of town, one of those with only one light lighting the way. He knew it well, so lack of illumination didn’t bother him in the least. To his left and right were many early built buildings, most of which were old brick townhouses and businesses like lawyers, garages, a bank, a church, and a few places to grab a bite to eat. Nothing like having a few drinks, getting hitched, creating a joint bank account and taking him for half of everything…it was a one stop shop. And though Wyatt was nearing middle age, marriage wasn’t something he was interest in. He liked only having to look after himself, and over the years, after apologizing to so many women for the way he was, came to realize he was better off by himself.

  As Wyatt was in mid thought, a black 1969 Ford Mustang came screaming down the road beside him and cut him off. He had to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision, and the way he felt about his car, Wyatt would have rather thrown himself between the vehicles rather than let them collide. His Challenger was the one thing in his life he took care of better than his own health. As he threw on the brake, and stepped out of his car, Wyatt recognized the black muscle car as one belonging to Damon’s crew. Cars like that were a passion of his second in command, the guy who took Wyatt’s place, a man named… “Drake, what the hell are you doing?” Wyatt asked as two guys stepped out of the Mustang. Drake he knew, but the other, youn
ger guy, Wyatt didn’t recognize.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great Wyatt Cage. I almost had you earlier today.” Drake said with a smile, but truth be told, he lived for the thrill of killing.

  “Man, you never had me.” Wyatt replied, stepping even closer to his old friend. “Then again, you’ve never had much of a brain either, so I’ll give you this one and let you think what you want.” Drake’s jaw clenched. He had about a good six inches on Wyatt and was far bulkier, so he figured he could take him if the need arose. “Speaking of want, what are you doing here?”

  “Collecting my prize.” Drake replied with a smile. “Damon wants to talk.”

  “And what makes him think I want to talk to him?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with that girl you picked up.” Drake began in his narcissistic tone. “I’d imagine she’s becoming quite annoying by now, hearing things, seeing things, Damon only wants to help…fix her. You see, she’s quite ill. Plus, he said if you hand her over, he’ll forget you ever left. Of course, you can’t have your old spot back, but if you’re lucky, maybe Damon will give you a job scrubbing toilets.”

  “It’s not going to happen.”

  “Aw, come on, don’t be like that.”

  “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you take your steroids and your boyfriend here and pedal your trash somewhere else before you both end up with a couple broken ribs and a major headache when you wake up.”

  Drake folded his arms and was no longer smiling. “Come on Wyatt, be realistic, there’s two of us, one of you, and we have guns.”

  “I know,” Wyatt smirked, keeping his hands in his pockets. “that’s what makes it a fair fight.”

  Drake stood tall, looking down at Wyatt, like Goliath over David, ready to pound him into the ground. “Damon also wanted me to remind you of a certain contract. He said he’ll rip it up if you give him the girl.”

  “He doesn’t own me anymore, and if he thinks he does, he’s crazier than you.” Wyatt spoke with a near growl. “Now what’s Damon’s interest in the girl? And why is he working with the FBI? That doesn’t seem like his style.”

  “Things have changed since you left, Damon has connections everywhere. And like I said, the girl’s ill.” Drake was becoming even more forceful in his tone. “Now are you going to tell me where she is or do I have to make you?!”

  Wyatt smirked. “You can try, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Drake glared down into Wyatt’s eyes with a fiery hatred fueled by years of competition in which Drake could never gain any ground. He always played second fiddle to Wyatt in Damon’s crew…until he left. Wyatt could always sense when trouble was coming, and that moment was no different than those which had come before. As Wyatt glanced over to the other guy, who was still standing on the other side of the car, Drake pulled the gun from his chest holster hiding under his jacket. However, there was a reason Wyatt had allowed himself to get so close to his old friend and have a gun pointed at his head.

  “You see, that’s the reason I don’t like guns, they have a specific range of effectiveness, like you, most people make a big mistake…they get to close.” Wyatt reached up, quick as lightning, knocking the barrel of the gun to the side of his head, turned sharply, grabbed the barrel, and elbowed Drake twice, once in the chest, and the other in the nose. Drake stepped back with water in his eyes and blood coming from his nose, it was effectively broken. Wyatt ejected the magazine and the bullet in the chamber, then tossed the gun away. “You see, if you disorient a person by breaking their nose, their eyes automatically water, blinding them for a few seconds, and they can’t fight, leaving them completely vulnerable.” Wyatt hit Drake in the ribs with a force equivalent to what it takes a truck to explode a deer on the highway, effectively breaking two of them and dropping Drake to the ground. And with a kick to the head, Drake was out cold. Wyatt pushed his hair out of his face, then looked over to the other guy who had yet to pull a gun either out of fear or he was just shocked.

  As Wyatt walked over to him, the guy raised his fists, readying to fight. “Really?” Wyatt’s brow furrowed in disbelief the kid actually wanted to try taking him on after what he’d just witnessed. However, the kid still wasn’t backing down. “I don’t want to hurt you, man. Get out of here and forget you ever heard of Damon…or me.” Wyatt turned around to walk away, figuring the kid would take his ultimatum, but as he tapped Wyatt on the shoulder and threw a punch, he realized the kid wasn’t too smart after all. Wyatt blocked the fist, and with a left hook, knocked the guy out with a single hit to the jaw. “They just don’t make ‘em like they used to.” He said walking back to his car.

  As he was about to sit down, he noticed a small flashing red light coming from underneath his back bumper, so he reached down and pulled it off. It was a device the size of a dime, with an antenna. It was something he recognized immediately. Seriously?! A tracker?! He thought angrily. He was about to smash it, then realized if he did that, Damon would know he found it, so he thought for a second and came up with a better idea, putting it on the collar of a lost dog which happened to run by. Have fun chasing that wild goose! He wished he could see the look on whoever caught up with his four-legged friend.

  It took some time as well as having a few laughs with Scott, Amanda, and Logan for her nerves to calm down enough to where Michelle saw sleep in the realm of possibilities for the night. The events of the day were still on her mind and she knew they weren’t going anywhere, not for a while at least. Something that traumatic isn’t easily gotten over, not when your life nearly comes to an end. Michelle could understand being hunted, she thought perhaps she had done something to them and they were seeking retribution. After all, she still had no memory, so how would she know? But the one thing she couldn’t wrap her mind around was the ghost-like, dead girl. Michelle had no clue who the girl was, only that she was overcome by fear the moment the girl turned around. There was no doubt in Michelle’s mind some evil force was out to get her. And what scared her most was the thought of what would happen if they ever caught her.

  Michelle decided to turn in for the night, so she headed up to her suite to ready herself for bed. With her nerves still slightly on edge, Michelle decided to leave the television on so she at least felt as though she wasn’t alone. She left the volume on, but not high enough it would keep her awake. After a quick glass of water, Michelle settled into bed, ready for some well-deserved rest.

  As the hours ticked by, driving further into the night, Michelle was suddenly awoken by the lack of volume from the television. Figuring she must have rolled over on the remote, she groggily patted the bed only to eventually find it sitting on the nightstand, under the lamp. Without a second thought, Michelle turned the volume back up and began to drift off once more. However, several seconds later, the volume cut out again. Michelle’s eyes shot open, knowing full well she hadn’t touched the remote, she glared at the television, reading the word “mute” on the bottom of the screen. Her brow furrowed in curious confusion. Figuring maybe the TV had a glitch, Michelle picked up the controller and pressed the volume up button, only this time, nothing happened. She tried the mute, channel, and power buttons…still nothing. Just when she stood up to walk over to the TV, which was close to the same side of the bed on which she was already laying, the sound came on full blast. Michelle bolted for the television in an attempt to kill the volume, but as she quickly found out, none of the buttons were working. The volume was so loud, Michelle tried covering her ears and working the remote as she backed away, falling back onto the bed. Frantically, she pressed the power button hoping it would work, and finally, the TV cut off.

  It’s about time, Michelle thought as she was about to lie back down. However, as her eyes flashed across the darkened screen, she became terrified as there behind the bed stood the reflection of the dead girl. Immediately Michelle turned around but saw nothing. Upon looking back at the screen, the girl was now at the foot of the bed. With a pounding heart,
Michelle’s fear filled eyes glanced slowly toward the foot of the bed, but again saw nothing. This time, as she looked at the screen once more, Michelle saw only her own reflection. She sat there stunned by what she’d seen and listened to the sound of her heart beating loudly in her ears as it was readying to bust out of her chest. All the while she wondered what was in there with her. Sitting as still and quiet as she could, Michelle listened for any sign she wasn’t alone, but didn’t have to wait long as she soon heard low whispers and scratching on the walls coming from down the hall toward the living room. Immediately Michelle picked up the phone and called Wyatt.

  “Hello?” He answered still half asleep.

  “Wyatt…it’s Michelle.” She was scared out of her mind and Wyatt could hear the shakiness as she tried to keep her voice low. “I think someone is in here with me, I can hear voices.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the bedroom.”

  “Stay there and lock the door, I’m on my way.” Wyatt hung up and bolted toward the hotel.

  Michelle put the phone down and made her way to the bedroom door, shutting it as quietly as possible. As she sat back on the bed, glaring at the door, she watched as it unlocked itself, creaking as it slowly swung open. Michelle wasn’t sure how much more she could take as her level of fear was quickly on the rise. Even the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. Michelle crept out of bed, slowly making her way to the door once more, and the closer she came, the louder the voices and scratching became. Trembling, Michelle stepped into the hallway, she had to know if someone was really there or if the night was just playing games with her mind. Either way, it wasn’t going to stop the terror she felt. As Michelle crossed into the middle of the hall, she stopped suddenly as she saw a child-like girl with long black hair wearing a tattered gown standing only a few feet away scratching the wall and whispering something she didn’t understand.