Damaged Hope (Street Games Book 3)

by L. K. Hill

“It’s Kyra.”

  Gabe frowned. Why was Kyra calling Shaun in the middle of the night?

  “Have you talked to her since you got back?” Cora asked.

  “No." Gabe's stomach twisted into knots. He leaned forward, trying to control a panic he didn't understand. "I called her, but she didn’t answer.”

  Shaun had already pushed the button on his cell phone. He pushed another before speaking into it. “Hello.” He held it outward so they heard the response.

  “Shaun?”

  Gabe instantly recognized Kyra's whisper. His hackles rose. Why would she need to whisper?

  “I didn’t know who else to call. We’re in trouble.” Her voice broke and when she went on, he heard the tears in her whisper. “A lot of trouble. The op went terribly bad.”

  Gabe’s mouth fell open. Had she just said, ‘op?’ No, she couldn’t have. He’d misheard her. She’d promised. “Kyra, what happened?” Gabe demanded. He’d leapt to his feet at some point without noticing.

  Silence came through a phone a moment. “Gabe?”

  “He’s back early,” Shaun explained. “You're on speaker with us and Cora. What did you mean, ‘the op?’”

  “The op Tyke’s running beyond the seventh layer. Everything went to shit. We all scattered. I’m not sure if anyone else got out.”

  Not one part of what she’d said made sense to Gabe. He stood with his mouth hanging open for several seconds, not sure which part to address first.

  “Did she say the seventh layer?” Cora gasped.

  Shaun looked downright disturbed. “Tyke isn’t running any op tonight, Kyra,” he said firmly.

  “Of course he is,” she whispered. "He got twenty-four officers together. Undercovers who’d been in before us and made arrangements. He said you approved it.”

  The look on Shaun's face sent fear pulsing through Gabe's chest.

  “I don’t know anything about it, Kyra,” Shaun said grimly. “We don’t send undercovers past the seventh layer. Ever.”

  “Shaun, they knew things they couldn’t have known unless they’d been in there before.”

  Shaun shook his head. “Whoever they are, they're not cops. Not ones sanctioned by the city, anyway.”

  “Tyke said it was off the books. Unofficial.” she whispered.

  Shaun shook his head again. “Even if it were, I’d still know about it. The city wouldn’t send anyone into the Prowlers’ Lair. We’re targets there. Especially after dark. It’s not worth the risk.”

  Cora’s hand came up slowly to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. “Kyra,” she said, lowering her fingers. “Where’s Tyke?”

  “I don’t know,” Kyra’s voice broke again. “We have to help him. The killer's down there. He told them to kill everyone. Tyke's trapped down there with hundreds of Prowlers. He needs backup.”

  Shaun swiveled in his chair and snatched up the receiver. He punched numbers with the ferocity of an animal.

  Gabe grabbed Shaun’s cell phone and brought it close to him, fighting his own panic. “The killer? The killer?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice still thick. “He recognized me. I wouldn't have left Tyke, but the killer chased me out, into the Mire.”

  Gabe tried to work moisture back into his mouth.

  “Where is he now?”

  “I lost him. I'm sure he's still searching.”

  “Everything you have,” Shaun hollered into the receiver. “SWAT, backups, call everyone in. Get them into the Mire immediately. We have officers down!”

  “Kyra, where are you?” Gabe demanded. “I’ll come and get you.” He registered Cora talking to Shaun in the back of his mind.

  “The Prowlers aren’t afraid of guns, Shaun. They’re afraid of light. Tell them to bring flood lights.”

  “I don’t know,” Kyra whispered. “I’m hiding behind a dumpster right now. I’m not familiar with this part of the Mire. I can see where the alleys let out, and the Mire ends, but the street doesn’t look familiar.”

  “Kyra,” Cora said. “Is the GPS on your phone turned on?”

  “I don’t know. I never turned it off.”

  Cora whipped out her cell phone and punched in numbers.

  Gabe spoke into Shaun’s cell phone again. “Cora’s calling our tech guy. He can track the GPS in your phone and I’ll come pick you up. Stay hidden until I get there, okay?”

  She sniffed. “Okay.”

  “Are you all right?”

  A short pause. “I’m not hurt. But Gabe, I watched two officers die. Ortiz and Rendon. The Prowlers killed them. Tyke told me this would be a risk, but the intel was completely wrong. Why would he lie to me about Shaun approving this?”

  Gabe’s chest hurt. “I don’t know.”

  “Gabe if he…”

  She cut off, but the sound of her breathing still came through the phone.

  “Kyra?”

  Gabe dropped the phone when Kyra's scream blared through it.

  *******

  Kyra sobbed softly behind the small dumpster. It sat against one side of the alley with its short side—only three feet wide—parallel to the wall. Kyra knelt in the slim space between the two. The ground felt sticky and smelled foul. She barely registered it. She’d run blindly when the killer came after her. When she no longer saw or heard him behind her, she sank down in this spot and dialed Shaun. She had little strength left to run and no weapon save for a heavy, flat rock which fit perfectly in her palm. She’d located it the instant she’d squatted down behind the dumpster.

  “Why would Tyke lie to me about Shaun approving this?”

  Gabe spoke after a short pause, and she heard the fear in his voice. “I don’t know.”

  “Gabe, if he—”

  A whisper of a feeling silenced her. Like the movement of wind she couldn’t hear or feel, but rather sensed.

  She pulled the cell phone from her ear and leaned to her left, twisting around to peer out from behind the dumpster. Nothing. Silence and stillness. Lightning lit the sky above, and Kyra saw the alley clearly. Not even any rats scurrying about.

  She leaned back in, wondering what the feeling had been. She twisted to the right to peer over her shoulder and leaned out from behind the dumpster.

  The killer’s face hovered inches from hers, grinning like a homicidal hyena. Kyra screamed.

  *******

  Gabe leapt to his feet and lunged from the room. He skidded into his desk and grabbed his keys before vaulting toward the parking lot, still clutching the cell phone and ignoring surprised looks from others in the precinct as he sprinted past them. “Kyra! Can you hear me? Kyra!”

  As he reached the parking lot and headed for his car, Shaun’s voice came from behind him.

  “No, Gabe. This one!”

  Gabe skidded to a stop and whirled. Shaun and Cora had followed him out. They ran for a precinct bronco. Its four-wheel drive would be better than his sedan. Cora still held her phone to her ear, on the line with the tech. Shaun had evidently abandoned his desk phone.

  Shaun climbed into the driver’s seat and Cora into the passenger. Gabe jumped into the backseat behind Shaun. “What about Tyke?”

  “Simmons is gathering forces. It may take an hour. If we pick up Kyra, she can tell us exactly where Tyke is.”

  “Kyra!” Gabe yelled into the phone. He heard breathing and movement, so she couldn’t have dropped the phone.

  “Got it!” Cora said. She’s on the western outskirts of the city, where the Mire meets the desert.”

  “How long will it take to get there?” Gabe asked.

  Cora looked mildly ill. “Fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll make it ten,” Shaun said grimly and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

  *******

  Kyra lunged away from the killer, trying to kick her way free of the dumpster. Strong fingers closed around her ankle. She fought viciously but couldn’t extricate herself. Her fingers closed around the flat, heavy rock.

  The killer dragged her o
ut from behind the dumpster by her ankle. As soon as they were clear, Kyra twisted at the waist and swung her arm around. The rock in her palm connected with the side of his face. She followed it up with a backward kick. He leaned to one side at the last second and her heel landed on his shoulder rather than his face.

  Still, he dropped her ankle. She scuttled away from him, lunged to her feet and ran, still clutching the rock in one hand and the cell phone in the other.

  She sped down the alley and took a sharp right toward the edge of the Mire. If she left the Mire itself, she might be able to run faster. Then again, she’d also be exposed and visible to anyone looking that way. She took another right, opting to stay within the framework of the Mire. Footsteps thudded behind her in the distance. She didn’t dare stop, but while running, she raised the cell phone to her ear.

  “GABE! ARE YOU THERE?”

  “Kyra?” His frantic voice came through the phone.

  “Killer…Found me. He's Ch-chasing…” She ran out of breath.

  “We’re coming, Kyra. We’re eight or nine minutes away, tracking your phone, so keep it with you. Find some place to hide.”

  “Can't stop," she panted, feeling a growing stitch in her side.

  “Then…” he sounded frustrated and his next words sent chills through her skin. “Just keep running.”

  She dropped her arm and pumped faster, running harder. The shoes thudding behind her had grown closer while she talked.

  Twenty seconds later, she wanted nothing more than to stop. She knew she couldn't. It would mean her death, but her strength was ebbing. She put the phone back to her ear.

  "Gabe!"

  “Kyra, what’s happening?”

  “Still chasing,” she gasped.

  “How close is he?”

  “Don’t know. Can’t look. I’ll fall.”

  “He’s not directly behind you?”

  “No. A ways. Can see me. Can’t stop.”

  “Okay. Keep running. We’re coming.”

  Up ahead, an intersection of alleys loomed. She vaguely wondered which way she ought to go. When the intersection sat twenty feet away, two men jumped out from either side of the perpendicular alley. How the hell did they get ahead of her?

  Their arms reached out, but she was already passing them. She ducked under their outstretched hands and shot by before they got into position.

  She kept running. Despite her best efforts, her speed was declining. Now three pairs of shoes thudded behind her, and closer than before. Throwing her body forward to duck cost her precious seconds.

  A block ahead, another intersection. Three men stepped out, barring her way. She wouldn't be able to push past them this time. They already stood like a human barrier across the opening.

  A dark alley branched off to her right. She passed it, skidded to a halt and back tracked. The motion brought the three men behind her ever closer, and she prayed this alley didn’t dead-end.

  She took another right and then a left, having no idea where she'd end up. The alley let out onto a wider street. Kyra, feeling liberated by the open space, ran down it with all the speed she could muster. Defunct buildings lined it.

  She still traversed the perimeter of the Mire. One street to the left, she saw raw desert.

  The Mire squatted on her right. Every block or so she passed an opening to it. Up ahead, two men came running out of one such opening, trying to catch her. As before, she sprinted so fast, she passed them before they got out in front of her. It was a close thing, though. Their hands brushed clothing. How did they keep getting ahead of her?

  She ran harder for twenty seconds to put some distance between her and them. Then she raised the cell phone to her ear again, concentrating on keeping her speed constant while talking.

  “GABE! WHERE ARE YOU?”

  *******

  Gabe’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. Adrenaline pulsed through his limbs, but had nowhere to go. He could do nothing but listen to her scream. He wanted to put his fist through the car window. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

  “We’re nearly there, Kyra. What’s happening?”

  “Keep…coming out…ahead of me," she gasped between deep, sucking breaths. "They know where…going to be.”

  “They know the Mire well, Kyra.” Cora chimed in from the front seat, speaking loudly so Kyra could hear. “This is their turf. Don’t go anywhere they try to herd you.”

  “Where is she?” Shaun asked quietly. They’d left the city entirely and now sped down a little-used road that wrapped around the perimeter of the city. Shaun thought it would be the faster route. Probably true, but this road saw both little use and little repair. Paved but severely pot-holed, even the bronco's four-wheel drive didn't allow them top speed.

  “She’s still along the perimeter, one road in. Kyra!” The last she yelled toward the cell phone. “Don’t go any further into the Mire. Stay toward the desert. We’ll be coming from that direction and the car may not fit further in.”

  “Okay,” Kyra gasped. Gabe listened to the steady sound of her panting, giving thanks for every second he still heard it. It became farther away, which he realized meant she’d dropped the phone away from her ear. Even then, she still gasped loudly enough that he heard her clearly.

  Her panting grew louder again. "GABE,” she screamed. “HE'S GOING TO CATCH ME!”

  Panic seized Gabe around the throat and he nearly choked when he spoke again. “No! No, he’s not. Kyra! Don’t you dare give up!”

  “Not,” she panted, “giving up. He’s gaining. They all are. I can’t…” Her voice grew hysterical. “Gabe come find me. You know," pant, "what he’ll do," pant, "to me. You—”

  She cut off with a strangled cry, followed by a horrible thumping sound, as if she’d gone head over feet on the pavement.

  “Kyra! Kyra answer me!” he screamed.

  The line hadn’t gone dead, but no sound came through now. Not even the sound of her breathing. Gabe stared at the phone in disbelief. Cora watched him with terrified eyes. Shaun eased down on the accelerator, but braked an instant later to get around a jagged crater in the pavement.

  Her voice came again, one last time. It sounded distant, as if she'd gone some distance from the phone.

  “The corner of Jackson and Gaap. Gabe! I’m at the corner of—”

  A high-pitched squeal combined with a crunch and the line went dead.

  Gabe pounded his fist so hard against the window, it cracked.

  *******

  Kyra raised her head painfully from the ground. The world spun. A pair of work boots stood directly in front of her eyes. She craned her neck back to look up at him. The bushy wig had disappeared, revealing hair that hung to the nape of his neck, long enough to be pushed behind his ears. It looked dark and greasy, slick with sweat. Sweat rivulets ran down his face and his eyes were wide, making it appear even more ghoulish than before. His head seemed miles above hers.

  Directly above him hovered a street sign. The world stopped spinning and for one pristine moment of clarity, she saw the words on the signs clearly.

  A sideways glance showed the phone five feet away on the ground. “The corner of Jackson and Gaap. Gabe! I’m at the corner of Jackson and—” Before she’d gotten to the word Jackson the second time, one of the Prowlers stomped on the phone. A loud crunch announced its demise. If the line wasn’t dead before, it was now.

  “Bring her.” The killer’s gravelly voice commanded from above. Two men, both easily three times Kyra’s size, seized her by the arms and hauled her to her feet. Twisting her arms around and pinning them against the small of her back, they forced her forward, after the killer.

  They moved deeper into the city. Exactly what Cora told her not to do. Then again, perhaps not. Cora told her to stay out of the Mire. The killer moved laterally. Not into the Mire, but back toward the Prowler's territory. The streets yawned wide here. A car could drive these streets.

  Kyra twisted around to look over her shoulder. The co
rner of Jackson and Gaap had disappeared behind them. When Gabe arrived, he would have no idea which way she’d gone. She needed to stall. Distract the killer if possible. She wracked her brain, trying to think of what to say. What to ask him.

  “Why…do you like the dead parts of the city so much?”

  Walking five feet ahead of her, he glanced over his shoulder. She didn’t think he meant to answer. His voice came, deep and gravelly, a few seconds later. “Why do you think?”

  Kyra didn’t try to answer. She knew. Vaguely, anyway. Depravity attracts depravity. In the dead parts of the city, he could be alone with his twisted fetishes, or seek out others who shared them. He wasn’t the kind of person who would want to hang out in places with light.

  She decided to try a different tactic. “You got a name?”

  “I am Gaap.”

  “I’m assuming you didn’t take your name from the street sign back there. Gaap is a goetic demon.”

  He whirled on her so fast, his two goons nearly pushed her into his chest.

  “Yes,” he said softly, gazing down at her.

  “You think you’re a demon?”

  He tilted his head to one side, studying her. Kyra shrunk under his gaze.

  She wasn’t afraid of people. Never had been. Sure, people did terrible things to one another, and she tried to be aware and prepared for such possibilities, especially in the Mire. But she didn’t fear people in a run-and-hide or afraid-of-the-dark kind of way. This man was different. His eyes looked dead and cold. He studied her with the icy calculation of a person whose eyes penetrated every part of her identity, and planned to destroy her on every level.

  Without answering the last question, he began walking again. Kyra’s captors pushed her on. They turned onto a street lined with small warehouses. This guy favored abandoned buildings. In abandoned parts of the city. Yet he ventured into busy parts of the Mire to kill.

  He veered right and walked through the door of the closest warehouse. The interior proved dull and bare, though she did note the floor boards had been pulled up in one corner. He’d taken out the floor in the previous space as well, to bury bodies in the desert sand beneath. This must be his new haunt. He'd recreated The Purple Valentine here.