Primed to Kill: SINISTER MURDERS ARE RIFE (The Dead Speak Book 2)

by Emmy Ellis

  Dane always spoke sense, but niggles of doubt still gnawed at Adam’s nerve ends. Something was off, and it wasn’t his overactive imagination either. He liked to think that since the attack his senses had sharpened, his instincts making up for buggering off that night and leaving him to become a victim. Except they hadn’t, they’d warned him in good time, he’d just chosen to ignore them.

  “But we know the general direction,” he said. “I just want to see what they’re doing. To know it isn’t anything iffy. I won’t sleep otherwise, and if it’s something dodgy, we’ll leave them to it and—”

  “It won’t be anything dodgy.” Dane stared out of the window again.

  “But how do you know? You said yourself we’re new around here.”

  The huge sigh that gusted out of Dane let Adam know in no uncertain terms he was pissing his brother off. Adam knew he could be a pain, but although Dane tried, he didn’t—couldn’t—understand how Adam felt.

  “Fuck’s sake,” Dane said in weary tones, pushing off the sill and walking to the bedroom doorway, dragging his feet. “If it makes you happy, we’ll go out there, but I tell you, it’s probably nothing we need to know about.”

  Adam followed him out of the room. “Thanks. And I’m sorry for—”

  Dane lifted one hand as he disappeared into his bedroom. “It’s okay. I get it.”

  * * * *

  Adam and Dane sat in the car, engine off, headlights doused. The country lane they were in ran directly to the left of a field. Adam looked across Dane in the driver’s seat and out of the window. The barn he’d spotted from their cottage stood in the centre, a black monolith, its size that of any warehouse in the city. The torchlight had gone from outside in the time it had taken them to travel and find the right place, but faded swathes shone through a crack in what Adam assumed was a doorway. Whatever was going on, the people inside didn’t feel the need to lock themselves in. Maybe being out in the middle of nowhere they felt safe, that no one would encounter them.

  Or maybe they’re not doing anything bad.

  “We’re getting out and having a look, aren’t we?” Adam waited for Dane to tense up and try to get out of it.

  “Yes, we’re getting out and having a look, but if nothing’s going on, I really think you need to go and talk to someone.”

  Adam nodded. “I know. I will.”

  “You say that, but—”

  Adam reached across and pointed at the barn. “What the fuck are they doing in there?”

  The door had been fully opened, revealing a pale rectangle of light and a stack of hay to the rear. People, two of them, stood in the doorway, their silhouettes somewhat relaxed, an arm each bent at the elbow. They were smoking? Others milled about behind them, naked.

  What the hell?

  “I don’t know,” Dane said. “Maybe they’re getting the barn ready for some do or other. Whatever, I’m not walking across that bloody field while they’re standing there.”

  “What, getting ready for a do with no clothes on?”

  “You don’t know that. It only seems that way.” Dane scrubbed his chin, the sound of his stubble loud.

  “I saw the shape of a limp cock on one bloke.”

  They waited in tense silence for the couple to go back inside and shut the door. Dane sighed quietly and got out. Adam quickly followed, sliding down a bank into the field. The ground squelched, still suffering from the recent rains, and Adam’s boots sank with every step, becoming heavy with caked earth. It was chilly now, more so than when he’d dumped the cardboard in the back garden, and he wished he’d put on a scarf and gloves along with his jacket.

  As they neared the barn, its features grew more apparent, and yes, it was made of red brick. About twelve feet from it, Adam got the jitters, the haunting sound of men chanting lifting the hairs on the back of his neck. Their voices were low, without any form of melody, a boring drone that was sinister as fuck. His instinct kicked in, telling him they ought to get hell away from there, yet even though he was scared, he wanted to stay.

  “Wait,” Adam whispered, reaching out to grip Dane’s wrist. “I’m… I just need a minute.”

  Dane stopped walking, and Adam stood beside him, heart beating an uneven rhythm that reminded him of when he’d watched those men leave him injured in the alley. He stared at the barn, the light filtering through the door crack brighter now, and took a deep breath.

  Think. Why would men be naked in there?

  He had no idea, but if it was nothing more than some orgy, then at least the voice of his instinct urging him to investigate would shut up.

  Chapter Four

  Adam took hold of the barn door and pulled it open a little more. It was skew-whiff on its hinges, like it had hung there for years and had grown warped from the weather. He grimaced, waiting for a creak or whine to give them away, but none came. Dane crouched and shifted in front of Adam so they could both see into the barn.

  No one was in there.

  What the fuck?

  Torches had been propped strategically, as if whoever had placed them there wanted to spotlight the centre. Shadows hulked around the edges, thankfully keeping Adam and Dane in darkness, too. Adam got the uneasy feeling he was in the wrong place at the wrong time—again.

  “Where did they go?” he whispered, resting his fingertips on Dane’s shoulders, disturbed his legs were shaking.

  Dane shrugged. “No idea, but I don’t see the point in us being here. Nothing’s going on.” He moved to rise then lowered again.

  Something shifted in the far corner, a darker blob of shadow, and Adam took a step back, hoping the security of the darkness outside would further shield him. The torchlight didn’t reach the doorway, but that was beside the point. Being spotted wasn’t something he wanted to happen. People were unpredictable. For all he knew, those naked fuckers could turn nasty, come out, bare or not, and give him and Dane a good beating. Out here in the middle of nowhere, they wouldn’t be seen, and when those people had left, Adam and Dane might be left unconscious, not found for hours.

  A bald man walked into the light at the centre. He closed his eyes, face raised to the rafters, and lifted his arms. He hummed, and more bald men joined him, creating a circle, their hands linking them together. They reminded him of those cut-out paper dolls he’d made at school, except these ones had dangling dicks and bollocks.

  Adam quietly knelt behind Dane. “This is so weird,” he whispered.

  Dane turned his head to speak over his shoulder. “Who would have thought crap like this went on, eh? Maybe it’s some country ritual or other.”

  Dane snorted, and Adam’s gut clenched. Had they been too loud?

  They didn’t appear to have heard him, each man emitting the same hum as the first. It sounded like bees, a whole swarm of them, the noise thick and buzzing, going through Adam’s skin until goosebumps sprouted all over him. A sensation squirmed in his ears, as though the very bees he’d thought of were crawling around inside, and he swallowed to make it go away.

  The men swayed. Muscles in their legs undulated beneath their skin. The humming grew louder, and Adam was sure he heard a pained whimper, muffled by the strange buzz. He cocked his head at Dane, checking if it was him. He didn’t appear upset at all, just shocked.

  “Did you hear that?” Adam whispered.

  “What?” Dane asked.

  “That whimper.”

  “No.”

  It came again, louder this time.

  “There. You heard it then, yeah?”

  “Nope.”

  “Help me!”

  “Who the fuck said that?” Tension spread into Adam’s body, and he blinked as though it would help establish the owner of that voice.

  “Who said what?” Dane frowned, gaze still riveted ahead.

  “’Help me’. Someone just said it.”

  “I didn’t hear it.” Dan lifted a finger. “Would you look at the size of that man’s dick? The one right opposite. Jesus!”

  “They�
�re going to hurt me…”

  “Oh fuck. Please tell me you heard that, Dane.”

  “I just told you I didn’t.”

  “Not that! Someone said something else. That the men are going to hurt them.”

  Dane pursed his lips and looked directly at Adam. “Oh, behave yourself.” He laughed quietly.

  “I heard it. Maybe you would have as well if you weren’t so busy gawping.”

  Dane wasn’t usually such an arsehole. Adam remained silent, knowing damn well he’d heard that voice—a man—as if he’d spoken right beside him.

  Just to make sure he hadn’t, Adam glanced about. Nothing but darkness beyond the barn door. He stood, the urge to investigate strong.

  Dane stared up at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to see if anyone else is out here.”

  “Not on your own, you aren’t.”

  Adam walked towards the right-hand, outside corner of the barn. That voice had come from a frightened person, and courage had settled inside Adam, pushing his own worry aside. It felt strange not to cower away from confrontation or the unknown, but he acknowledged that he might be getting better now, that Lower Repton had been a good choice.

  Apart from what was going on tonight.

  He picked up sounds of Dane following—maybe that helped with the courage a bit—and rounded the corner. More of the same field greeted him, although what he’d expected, he didn’t know. Well, he did, if he were honest. He thought he’d find whoever that voice belonged to. Some bloke huddled against the barn, waiting for Adam and Dane to rescue him.

  The attack on Adam had got to him in so many ways. Maybe no one was out here after all. Maybe he’d imagined they were about to hurt someone because, shit, that was what a band of men meant to him now.

  Fear. Hurt. Pain.

  Adam shook the thoughts away and continued walking, heading for the rear of the barn. He peeked around the corner. Cars, dark shapes, only their windows and roofs discernible, were parked in a row. So he had been right earlier. He dug his mobile out of his jeans pocket and moved forward. Selecting the torch application, he moved between each car and inspected their insides.

  No one. Nothing but the usual paraphernalia—maps, empty juice bottles, the odd crumpled crisp or sweet packet. A newspaper.

  “There’s no one out here,” Dane said.

  “Well, I heard someone, and nobody can tell me different.” Adam stared at the back of the barn.

  A smaller, red-brick building had been tacked on as though an afterthought. Its dark slate roof reached halfway up and sloped so the overhang rested a couple of feet above a single wooden door, pale, possibly from being bleached by the sun.

  “Help me!”

  A shiver wended up Adam’s spine, and his knees weakened. He broke out in a cold sweat. The voice had been right there.

  Inside his head?

  “You heard it that time, didn’t you? Tell me you did, or it means I’m going mental.”

  “Um, no, I didn’t, and if you don’t pack it in, I’m going back to the cottage.” Dane shook his head and made to walk away.

  Adam reached out and stopped him. “Just bear with me. There’s someone in that sodding building.” He pointed to the add-on. “Got to be. Otherwise, why did I hear some bloke speaking again?”

  Dan lifted his hands then lowered them to slap against his thighs. “Yes, I’m sure there is someone in there. There’s also quite a few someones in the other bloody building as well. Maybe that’s where they came from, where they got undressed. Who the hell cares? Let’s just go back and see what they get up to.”

  “Hurry. There isn’t much time.”

  Adam ran to the door, his heart thudding. A padlock hung off a rusty chain, the door open a smidgen. He pulled it back, seeing only the same murky gloom as outside. Everything looked a deep shade of grey, from the walls to the dirty floor. One hay bale, the huge cylindrical kind, sat on its circular arse in the corner. How the hell had something that size fitted through the door? Then he spied a set of double doors—undoubtedly leading into the barn proper—which answered his question.

  He flashed his phone torch beam around the interior. Other than the hay bale and a wooden pole going from floor to ceiling in the centre, nothing else occupied the space.

  “Quick,” Adam said.

  He legged it, stuffing his phone away and skirting the corners of the building in double time. Out of breath at the front doors, he leant one hand on the brick beside them and bent his head to get his breathing back to normal.

  “Christ,” Dane whispered beside him.

  Adam looked into the barn, his face hot and limited oxygen going inside him. He managed to sniff in a huge helping of air, relieved as fuck his lungs filled and the tension in his throat eased. He swallowed then blew out.

  The men still hummed, still stood in a circle, but they no longer held hands. Another sat on his haunches in the centre, blindfolded with a strip of black fabric tied at the back in a knot. Adam had a clear view as the man was side-on. What appeared to be a sock had been stuffed in his mouth. His wrists were bound behind his back with mean-looking thin rope, the kind that chafed every time you moved. This man wasn’t one of the originals—he had hair—and something inside Adam said this bloke had been in the lean-to, that this was the one who’d been calling out for help.

  How the fuck did I hear him from here when he was out the back, though?

  Adam frowned, unable to come up with an answer—one that at least made sense.

  He bunched his eyes closed for a few seconds to stave off the thought that he had some kind of bloody psychic shit going on here. A knock or two on the head didn’t bring on that kind of ability, did it?

  He concentrated on what was happening in front of him. Were the standing men in a trance? They did have glazed eyes, and that humming was going right through him.

  “I know you’re out there. Please, stop them. I don’t want to be here.”

  Adam started, the voice so loud this time he glanced at each man in turn to see if they’d heard it, too. It appeared they hadn’t—they continued to hum and sway. He gave Dane a sidelong peek, and it seemed he hadn’t picked up on the plea either.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Adam muttered.

  “Looks like some gay fun to me.” Dane widened his eyes.

  They lapsed into silence, staring ahead.

  Chapter Five

  The main bald man stepped forward, raising his arms as though in supplication. He was hairless all over, which gave him an alien vibe. Adam frowned and studied him, squinting to see if the man had any eyebrows. He did, thick black slashes that appeared out of place on the otherwise sleek and shiny body. He put his hands on the bound bloke’s head, massaging with his fingertips. Humming from the outer circle grew louder.

  The fella with hair didn’t appear to be afraid.

  Abruptly, the humming stopped, yet the sound rang on in Adam’s ears as residual fuzz, albeit quieter. The silent men remained in place. Their ages ranged from early twenties to forties. They were an odd bunch, people he wouldn’t have put together if he’d been told to select folks who gathered for a sexual whatever the fuck this was.

  The main bald one raised a hand to the side, and another stepped from his position and into the circle, handing him a whip. He moved to stand behind the kneeling man and cracked a hurtful blow across his spine.

  “I think we ought to go,” Adam whispered.

  “Please, help. Don’t leave me. If I call out, if I ask them to stop, they said they’ll go after my family…”

  “What the fuck?” Adam muttered.

  Totally Hairless had stepped back to allow another man a chance at whipping. He only struck once then handed the crop to the next man. It all happened so fast, and by the time Adam could process it properly, the whip had been given to everyone and was now back with the main man. Red welts, raised and angry-looking, marred the kneeler’s back. He was fully hunched over now, forehead touching the
floor, but his torso bobbed, as though he was silently crying.

  “Oh God. Oh God, it fucking hurts…”

  The circle of men converged, hauling him to his feet. They appeared as a swarm of nakedness, a mass of pink flesh.

  Adam took a deep breath. “He said if he didn’t let them do what they wanted they’d hurt his family.”

  Dane almost laughed too loudly. “Really?”

  “We need to get out of here,” Adam whispered.

  He turned and walked across the field towards the road, Dane beside him. Adam’s thoughts went to that voice and what had been said. He shrugged, unable to come up with a reasonable explanation for it. He’d put it down to his overactive imagination, a leftover from his attack, where he fancied the group of men as sinister when all they were doing was indulging in a fantasy.

  He couldn’t very well put it down to anything else, could he?

  Back at the cottage, he climbed into bed, the dregs of what he’d seen lingering in his mind. He turned onto his side, still getting used to sleeping in a strange room. He wondered how long it would take before this place would truly feel like home.

  He drifted and waited for that final curtain of sleep.

  Just as it fell, he thought that voice spoke again, but the sandman was stronger than Adam’s urge to fully digest what he’d said.

  “You left me. It’s over. All over now…”

  Chapter Six

  Oliver lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, Langham on the other end of the line wanting to discuss the case because he couldn’t bloody sleep.

  “I wonder what Shields would have made of all this?” Oliver asked, thinking of the now-dead DS who’d treated him them like shit—one of the last coppers to accept that Oliver had no hand in the murders he brought to their attention.

  Langham chuckled. “Fuck knows, but if the warehouse murder was something to do with being gay like the victim suggested, Shields would have had a shit fit. Having to solve a gay case would have tipped him over the edge, the homophobic wanker.”