Pray for Death (A Gunn Brothers Thriller)

by James Hilton

  Clay reached for the support of a nearby tree as his vision blurred. Bile rose to the back of his throat. “Why did you stay after you escaped? After all the ordeals they put you through, why didn’t you try to make it home to your family… to the outside world for help?”

  Ghost brushed a miniscule insect from the side of her mouth. “I had no one to go back to. It was just me and Lauren.”

  “Your ma?”

  “We lost Mama back in Katrina. My father left us when I was six, just headed on up the road one day and never came back. Lauren was just a little girl when Katrina hit so then it was just the two of us. I tried to do the best I could for her.”

  Clay placed his hand on Ghost’s shoulder. “I can tell how much you loved her.”

  “So, I stayed here. I crawled out of the compound through a waste pipe covered in blood and shit and vomit and out into the jungle. I should have died, but I didn’t. Something kept me going.”

  “And when you became strong again you started killing those fuckers?”

  “I don’t know how long I was out there in the jungle. I must have wandered in circles for weeks and weeks. Eating bugs and iguanas to survive. Can’t remember much of it, my head was so messed up with the crap they used to dose us up with. I started to steal things. My tent and some other kit. Stole them from the backs of cars when I could. I should have died. But here I am, right?”

  “Here we are,” added Clay. “You’re not alone anymore.”

  41

  “What’s the deal here?” Danny Gunn took another calculated step closer to Ezeret. “I thought it may be linked to the illegal trade in human organs or some sinister shite like that, but after watching your dick-squad here chase down and murder that young woman, I dropped that idea. I think you’re just a bunch of sicko bastards that have found a corner of the world away from prying eyes. A corner where you can act out your vile psycho fantasies and not get chased down by the law. Am I getting warm?”

  Ezeret clapped his hands together, then shifted his weight so he sat on the edge of his ornate seat. “When I look at you, you know what I see?”

  “Handsome bastard, hung like a cart horse?”

  “I see a man that denies his own darker, deep-seated passions. When I look into your eyes, I can see them bubbling away just below the surface. Violence, anger, a man sick of being constrained, sick of being held down by the hypocritical ideals of modern liberal apologists.”

  “I’ll stick with ‘handsome bastard’,” said Danny as he glanced at his captors. Weiss now stood with his P7 pistol clasped near his hip, the muzzle pointing at Danny’s chest.

  “A man tired of living by the sugar-coated rules imposed upon the world by the self-important hypocrites in office. Who are they to say what is right or wrong? Who are they to dictate what you can or can’t do? In ages past, when a conquering army took a city, unfettered raping and pillaging followed; not only was it allowed by the generals, but it was encouraged. The enlightened men of yesteryear understood those primal needs and let their armies quench those most essential desires to the full.”

  Danny rolled his shoulders, fixing each of the three men with a baleful stare. “Just because shit happened in the past, doesn’t make any of it right. And you’re hardly a conquering army, more like a bunch of rabid dogs that have banded together. Abducting tourists and God knows who else then using them for your sicko fantasy games is just plain old evil. You can try to dress it up as much as you want, but it’s for twisted arseholes and that’s that.”

  Ezeret shook his head slowly. “I am unrestrained, and I show others how to become so in turn. It is only when we are free of false morality that we truly discover ourselves. We find out what truly lies behind the facade imposed upon us by this world of banality. ‘Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.’”

  “Do you really believe the shite you’re spouting, or is this for their benefit?” Danny asked.

  Ezeret stood up from his seat. “Every man has the right to live by his own law, to live in the way he wills, to pursue his own chosen path. Here I have created my own path and others have chosen to follow that same red road as I.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Ezeret,” spat Danny. “And you can save your half-arsed Aleister Crowley quotes for someone who hasn’t read a book for themselves. The kids you’ve abducted and murdered didn’t choose your damned red road.”

  Ezeret placed his palms together as if offering a prayer. “I look at you and see a man who has stepped beyond the bounds of the law when it suited you to do so, perhaps in acts of revenge or retribution. I can see it in your eyes right now. The delicious promise of violence like a lion in a cage. Only let the lion out once and he will kill his keeper to be sure.”

  “When the time comes, I’ll kill every last one of you.”

  “There it is!” said Ezeret. “The violent undercurrent that confounds so many of the world today. Join us and you can let the beast loose, let the lion out from the cage forever. Weiss tells me you put down a handful of my men on your own, armed with nothing more than a billy club, and you killed two armed men with a knife outside. Impressive. Join us and you can live proud and unfettered like a warrior of old.”

  “Do you practise this bullshit in front of a mirror?”

  “I learned many years ago, one of the greatest pleasures in life is holding another man’s life in the palm of my hand. It’s intoxicating.” Ezeret’s eyes flashed as he perched on the edge of his seat. “Each man that wins a victory in the trials is reborn, set free from the chains of bland social conformity. Give me rape, give me murder, anything but the ordinary.”

  “Trials?”

  “Some of the men enjoy the thrill of combat.”

  Danny shook his head. “There’s no victory in killing one of your captives. That’s not something I’ll ever do, but I will happily end it for any of your grunts that you put against me.”

  Ezeret clapped his hands together, sharp and loud. “Oh, I think I can find a challenger or two more than able to test your abilities. If you will not join us, you will serve to set another seeker free.”

  “If he’s one of your arsehole brigade, bring it on. I’ll knock a hole in his head you can see through.”

  “That’s the spirit, Mr Gunn. But I warn you, two men may enter the trials, but only one may ever leave.”

  “I can live with that risk,” said Danny.

  “Weiss, take Mr Gunn to see Michelle, then see to it that he is properly fed and watered. Tonight shall be a special night.”

  Weiss brought his P7 pistol up and gave Danny what he took to be a dismissive sneer. “Move. The last door on the left.”

  Danny remained motionless, hoping that Weiss would take a step into arm’s reach. “Who’s Michelle?”

  “Move. I won’t ask again,” said Weiss.

  “You still gonna shoot me, Weiss? But if you shoot me I won’t be able to appear on tonight’s fight card.”

  “I can live with that risk,” said Weiss with a cold smile. “Move!”

  “I’ll move when I’m good and ready,” said Danny, drawing out each word. He turned his gaze back to Ezeret. “But only after you promise me that this Billy Idol reject is the one I get to fight first.”

  Ezeret gave a brief laugh. “Resourceful you may be, but you’re no match for Weiss.”

  “We’ll see when he’s the one in front of me, won’t we?” Danny remained stationary. “So, who’s Michelle?”

  “Just let me shoot him. He’s more trouble than he’s worth,” said Weiss.

  Ezeret wagged a finger. “Mr Gunn, if you please.”

  Neither Weiss nor the other guard had succumbed to frustration and stepped within range. Danny allowed himself the briefest of smiles. Can’t fool them all the time. “Okay, let’s go meet Michelle. I hope she’s better company than you three fuckwits. You make the Stooges look like geniuses.”

  Ezeret sat back in his seat. He failed to respond as Danny gave him a finger wave. “Kill you later, alligator,” sai
d Danny.

  The corners of Ezeret’s mouth curled for the briefest of moments. “In a while, crocodile.”

  Danny walked to the door as directed. He wondered where the hell Clay had gotten to. He could only stall them for so long.

  42

  As Clay followed Ghost into the small clearing he grabbed at another tree to prevent himself from falling. A constant hissing tinnitus had taken up residence in his ears, a dull ache behind his eyes. Despite his assurances to Ghost, he knew he was in trouble. He had been rattled before, once quite seriously on the rodeo circuit after taking a kick to the side of the head. But this was different. Clay had never been knocked off his feet by a grenade explosion but had been around many others that had. He knew the signs. Loss of balance, nausea, ringing in the ears and waves of unexpected fatigue.

  Ghost stopped suddenly, spreading her arms wide. “Welcome to chez Ghost. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

  Clay pushed himself off the tree and followed her closer to a tent at the opposite side of the clearing. The surrounding tree branches seemed to point at him with accusatory fingers. “We can’t stay long. We need to arm up and get back to the compound.”

  Ghost pursed her lips. “Not before you drink a whole lotta water and get some painkillers down your gullet.”

  The offer of water sounded like a fine idea. Clay’s mouth was dry and tinged with the taste of copper.

  Ghost ducked inside the tent, returning moments later holding an aluminium water bottle. “Take small sips at first.”

  Clay accepted the bottle. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

  “And I don’t want it to be your last, so hush up, sit your big butt down and start sippin’ on that water. I’ll get you something to take the edge off.”

  Clay dropped to one knee. If he sat down, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to regain his feet. Ghost emerged again from the tent and handed him three lozenge-shaped pills. “Here, these will help with you getting your bell rung.”

  “What are they?” asked Clay.

  “Just paracetamol, nothing exotic. They won’t slow you down, but they’ll help with that wasp buzzin’ in your ear.”

  Clay swallowed the pills with a long pull on the water bottle. “You got that too?”

  “Like a son of a bitch.” Ghost swallowed her own pills.

  “You said you have some more weapons tucked away?”

  “I have,” replied Ghost. “Not enough to wage a war, but enough to set one going.”

  Clay emptied the water bottle in one long pull. “I’ll take some more water if you have it.”

  “Sure. You want Evian or Perrier?” Ghost took the bottle from him with a sly smile.

  “I’m quite fond of San Pellegrino if you have it,” replied Clay.

  “I’ll check my stockroom for you.” Ghost dipped back inside the tent again. “Sorry, we seem to be out of that brand. Will lukewarm river water suffice?”

  “I guess it’ll have to.” Clay drank half the bottle down. “You know, I was once so thirsty I actually tried a Bud Light.”

  Ghost smiled, the scars on her face bunching into thick ribbons. “Man, you must have been desperate.”

  “I think they must distil piss from old folks’ homes then boil all the flavour out.”

  Ghost laughed out loud. “Are you a beer snob, Mr Gunn?”

  Clay finished the water bottle. “I guess I am. All the best people are. Have you got anything that we can eat on the move?”

  “Your belly rumblin’?”

  “Always,” replied Clay.

  “I’ve got some jerky strips and granola bars. Hardly the best—”

  “I’ll take them,” said Clay. “We can eat as we load up, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll pass my spare weapons out first.”

  A minute later, Clay looked down at the meagre assortment of kit. A machete, a basic single-edged hunting knife, a coil of climber’s rope, a Taser and a semi-automatic shotgun. “Is this all you have?”

  “Apart from my pistol and my knife.” Ghost pursed her lips. “If I knew you were coming I’d have stocked up, but yeah, this is it.”

  “How many shells have you got for the shotgun?” said Clay, picking up the weapon. “Remington 1100. I used to have one like this back home.”

  “I haven’t got many, but it’s fully loaded already. Let me get the others out.” Within seconds Ghost produced a clear ziploc bag that looked more suited to holding a school lunch. Inside the bag, Clay counted seven shells.

  “You sure it’s fully loaded already? Eight inside?”

  “Damn sure. Loaded it myself.”

  “Okay then.” Clay shouldered the shotgun, pointing it away from Ghost. “This is a workhorse gun, tactical model too. Nice.”

  Ghost gave a brief snort. “Stolen, like almost everything else I have here. Never had chance to use it yet.”

  “You any spares for your pistol?” he asked.

  “Two spare clips. Never leave home without them.” Ghost tapped her right thigh pocket. “And I’ve got my hook knife.”

  “Huh?”

  Ghost drew a curved blade from her waist in an inverted grip. A small ring covered her index finger, locking the knife in her hand. “Stole this too.”

  “Ah, a karambit blade, nice. I’ve seen Danny use one of those.” Clay drummed his fingers on the side of his own knife. “I prefer a full-size bowie myself, always gets the job done.”

  “A Texan with a bowie fetish, that’s original.”

  “Hey, if it ain’t broke… You mind if I hang on to the shotgun?”

  “It’s yours, Clay. Here’s the spare ammo too. Make every shot count.”

  “Damn right I will. You ready to go?”

  “I…”

  “What is it?” asked Clay. Ghost stood motionless, eyes cast to her feet. “Hey, you don’t need to come with me. I’d understand if you didn’t.”

  Ghost held out a strip of silver metal some nine inches long. The sun flashed, reflected for a moment.

  “What is that?” said Clay.

  “When I woke up half past dead in that pig pen, I said there was nothing left of sweet Lauren, but that wasn’t true. This was left. When she was a teenager she came off her bike and broke her leg in two. I was always telling her to slow down, but she wouldn’t listen. I sat in the hospital all night as the docs patched her up. She hobbled around on crutches for weeks with her leg stuck out to one side. She looked so damn goofy and cute at the same time. This is the pin from her leg. This is all that’s left of my dear, sweet sister, a damn titanium pin.”

  “We’ll get payback for Lauren, I’ll make sure of that.”

  Ghost slipped the slender rod into her right thigh pocket.

  “You ready?” asked Clay.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Then let’s go get Celine and Danny.”

  “How’s your head?” asked Ghost, as she picked up the Taser and rope. She tucked the machete into her belt at the small of her back.

  “I’ll live.”

  “Hey, wait up a minute, I’ve got something else to take those asswipes in the compound.” Ghost ducked behind the tent and retrieved a black refuse sack tied into a ball-shaped bundle.

  “What’s that?” asked Clay.

  “One of their men. We had a disagreement and he lost his head.” Ghost opened the bag.

  Clay looked inside. “Damn!”

  43

  “I was wondering where I’d put my card.” Danny looked down at the meagre contents of his wallet spread on the table before the red-haired woman. “You want my money, huh? If you’re hoping to retire on my dime you’re gonna be sorely disappointed.”

  “Regardless, I still need your password,” said Michelle.

  “You know, I try not to swear in front of ladies, but you’re no lady, so stick it up your arse!”

  Michelle gave a small smile. “There’s two ways of doing this, Mr Gunn.”

  “I’ll take the hard way an
d save you the speech. You’re not getting my money. I’ll need it myself after I’ve killed all you maggots.”

  Michelle tapped the edge of the credit card on her desk. She looked first at Danny, her head slightly tilting to one side, then her focus shifted to Weiss. Her tongue pushed out her top lip. “Mr Weiss?”

  “Give her the account details or I will put a bullet in your knee.”

  Danny turned slow and easy, folding his arms over his chest. “See, here’s the thing, you’ve threatened that a few times now, but Master Bater through there wants me to fight tonight in his little shits and giggles show, so I don’t think you will shoot me unless I come at you.”

  The guard holding the Taser raised his weapon an inch and took a step closer. With the smallest of movements, Danny slipped his cuffs and threw both hands out as if to grab the stun gun. The guard flinched, his finger squeezing tight on the trigger. Danny snapped his upper body aside. The Taser discharged first with a pop then a rapid series of clicks. Michelle squealed as the twin electrodes caught her in the chest, the raw electricity knocking her from her seat. She landed in an untidy heap at the side of the desk.

  Danny skipped away from Weiss. “Well, that was a shock to her system.” He wagged a finger at the guard. “Premature electrocution? Don’t worry, lad, you can get little blue pills for that now.”

  Weiss pulled a radio handset from his belt. “Medic to the office, immediately.”

  Danny crossed his arms. “If we’re finished here, I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat and a bottle of your finest ale.”

  “You think this is the Marriott or something?” Weiss’s face was white with strain.

  On the floor, Michelle turned onto her side, her face slack, her eyes bewildered. Saliva dripped slowly from the side of her mouth as she struggled to form a word.

  “You want a hand back up there, jelly legs?” asked Danny.

  “Stay away from her!”

  Danny looked Weiss up and down. “I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite. Oh aye, you caught me with a couple of cheap shots and shame on me for letting you, but when it comes down to it I will end you. You won’t be able to do a thing to stop it.”