She was in the middle of nowhere and she had been abducted by an obvious psychopath whose plans had not yet been revealed. What were his intentions? He said he wouldn’t hurt her, but what if he was merely toying with Tammy? What if he was sharpening an ax at that very moment, leering at her tiny prison with a sadistic grin stretched across that horrible mouth of his? Tammy shook the image away. She moved to the wall on her left. She had to know her options. She had to stay rational and figure a way out of this mess. Tammy looked through the left wall and her heart sank at the mass of rotting cars parked in the field- hers among them. She slumped to the floor, her spirit suddenly unfaithful.
I’m going to die, she thought, and for a moment, she felt calm and numb. Tammy had never imagined herself in a situation like this.
I should be climbing the walls or praying or looking for an option, she chastised herself. I should do anything but sit here like this. I shouldn't be staring at the floor like a helpless vegetable.
She considered the possibility of death. The prelude of torture. Would it be quick? Or would her captor delight in it, savoring her screams for as long as life sustained them?
She finally let the tears come. Oh god, she thought, her head suddenly heavy. I don’t want to die. Please let me live. I’ll do anything to stay alive.
Anything.
A notion interrupted her grief. She wiped her face dry with the cuffs of her blouse.
He’s a man, after all. What if I…horrible, just the thought of it…but what if I…
“No!” she shrieked, lashing out at the wall with her hand. She pulled back a bloodied fist, riddled with splinters, but she hardly felt the pain.
I won’t allow myself to even consider that. I won’t lay down with a monster. He’s an old man. I have to fight him. I need a weapon.
She searched the shed, resolve keeping the apprehension at a reasonable distance for the moment.
I can’t give into it, she thought, crouching at the base of the generator and shoving her hand into the dirt beneath it.
Fear was her enemy- she couldn’t fall into its clutches again. She had to rebel against this situation before it consumed her.
Tammy felt between a cinder block that supported some type of pump and the generator. In the patch of shadow she felt something cold, and she pulled a rusted screwdriver into the weak light of the lantern.
She clutched the prize to her chest. Tammy had to resist the urge to scream out in triumph.
She had a tool, now. A weapon. Something she might have been tempted to throw away under any other circumstance. It was a forgotten and filthy little screwdriver that she would mount on a plaque if it got her away from there.
Tammy considered plunging the tool into the maniac’s eyeball. But she didn’t think she had the stomach for it. At least, not unless she knew with certainty that Dreg was intent on killing her. The plan of prying some boards of the shed wall open to escape sat better with her. She placed her rusted ally back in the shadow. Tammy decided to wait for nightfall before attempting her escape.
Lucas, she suddenly thought. She had been so self-consumed that she had not yet considered what had happened to her husband. She had no idea how she ended up in this god forsaken place. Her last memory was of falling asleep in the car. What about Lucas? He would never have given in without-
“Oh, God,” Tammy whispered, clutching at the fabric of her blouse.
Tammy heard a noise at the door. She moved back further into the shadow, stepping over the mattress on the floor.
Dreg opened the door with one hand, his other supporting a tarnished silver tray crowded with a bowl, plate of bread and eating utensils.
A mason mug of what looked to be sun tea dribbled onto the tray as the old man stepped into the shed and closed the door, squeezing the sunshine out. Dreg approached Tammy. He offered the tray of food to her.
Tammy took a better look at her captor and she decided that she wouldn't attempt to attack this monster. He was very tall, his shadow falling over her. He wasn’t heavy or muscular, but he looked strong. His hair was white, and it flowed over his shoulders. And that ghastly face of his- those black eyes, devoid of life or emotion. His pallid face seemed to glow in the darkness as his back blocked the light of the lantern. His gray lips were drawn up tightly in a maniacal grin. Tammy couldn’t read his expression. Dreg was either being pleasant or he was about to open that mouth and bite her head off. She couldn’t decide which.
As Dreg bent down and placed the tray on the mattress, Tammy tried to believe his earlier vow not to hurt her. But she couldn’t.
I’m staring at death, she thought fearfully.
She thanked God, an intangible premise she had always shied away from despite her strict Baptist upbringing (or maybe because of it), for the screwdriver she now secretly possessed.
Dreg backed away from Tammy and he sat down on the floor beneath the lantern. He drew his long legs up and he wrapped his arms around them. Tammy stared at him for a few seconds. He looked puzzled.
“You eat,” he said, insistently motioning to the food.
“I’m not very hungry,” Tammy tried to say nicely, the edge of alarm still quivering in her voice.
Don’t give him any fear, she thought. Don’t feed his power.
She tried to harden herself, but Dreg's presence, even as casual and relaxed as it was, strengthened her anxiety.
“Wha ‘is?” Dreg said sternly, looking hard at the tray and back at Tammy. “You eat,” he said again.
Do what he says, Tammy thought. Don’t aggravate him.
She crept forward and peered at the meal Dreg had prepared for her.
A foul-smelling black stew filled a deep ceramic bowl.
Suddenly, she reprimanded herself. Lucas. She had selfishly forgotten about him again the moment Dreg had returned to the shed. Her plan had been to comply with the old man, but her concern for her husband prompted a strained query from her lips.
“What did you do to Lucas?”
“Heh?” Dreg muttered. “Lucas?”
“The man that was driving my car,” Tammy said, preparing herself for Dreg’s reply. "My husband."
If Luke was dead, Tammy decided that she would follow him very quickly. If this maniac confessed to killing her husband, she was going to take a final stand against him right now.
“Ah didn't see no man, Tammy,” Dreg said. “You was alone in da car, so Dreg brung you here. Brung you here for good and proper-” Dreg stammered for the next word. “Thing. Got you here to learn you.”
“So you didn’t hurt him?" Tammy asked, and she was relieved despite the imminent danger she faced.
“No,” Dreg said, but it wasn't an assurance that came from his mouth. It was a dark proclamation and the old man seemed agitated and maybe even jealous that Tammy had a husband.
The slight emotional flicker that Dreg had just displayed heightened her unease. What did the ugly old bastard want from her?
“Dreg didn't see no husban', and he don't matter no more to you, anyhow," Dreg continued, and Tammy could see that he was straining to be civil about it. "I brung you for a spell of learnin’. Tha’s all. You’ll unnerstan’ soon, yeh-heh?”
“What do you want to teach me?” Tammy asked, and she hoped to draw the focus away from the terrible stew on the platter in front of her.
Dreg scowled at her. “We start learnin’ after you eat,” he said, pointing at the tray for what Tammy regarded as the last time before he began spoon-feeding her. "You try Dreg’s jambalaya. It be goooood! Bes’ meat in three states.”
Tammy stared at the bowl, her mind digging up excuses. “I’m a vegetarian,” she lied. “I don’t eat meat.”
“Wha’ is?” Dreg said in disbelief. “You try. You like it. It be good. Dreg make it good for Tammy, yeh heh?”
“Please understand,” Tammy said, stepping on imaginary eggshells. “I don’t eat meat. It’s bad for me, okay? I have intestinal problems.”
“Itent’ problems?” Dreg sai
d curiously. “Wha’ is?”
“I don’t digest meat very well,” Tammy continued, hoping a medical condition would excuse her from the horrid meal. “I’m sure it’s great, but it will make me sick.”
“Oh,” Dreg replied, scratching his head.
“You understand?” Tammy asked. “I hope you don’t think I’m being rude.”
“No,” Dreg said, shaking his head. “Don’ want you sick. What you eat?”
“Vegetables, mostly."
"I got canned greens in yonder. I'll go make proper food for yo’ belly,” Dreg said as he stood and stretched his frame over Tammy again. She felt cold in his shadow.
“Spinach?”
“That would be fine,” Tammy said, and she could see that keeping Dreg docile was going to be a very delicate operation. "I am sorry for the trouble."
“It no trouble,” Dreg said, his features softening.
He gave her a smitten look that chilled Tammy. “Dreg do anythin’ for Tammy.”
Dreg collected the tray and then he left.
Tammy sagged over and she applauded herself for handling the man so well.
Keep it together, she instructed. Luke was alive. She had to take her kidnapper’s word for it, but she believed him. Her husband’s safety definitely lightened her load. There was only Tammy to think of now.
She then realized that if Lucas was alive, he was already searching for her and he wouldn't stop until he located her. And she had no doubt that Luke would find her. She just had to stay alive along enough for her husband to pinpoint her location and to send in the cavalry.
Despite the fear, Tammy was optimistic. She called Luke's name in her mind and she decided to start doing this periodically during her captivity. She knew she could claw her way out of this pit. Tammy had to grip that conviction firmly. Mortality was breathing in her face and its air reeked, but she was a survivor. She was strong. She could endure this.
Keep it together, she repeated to herself. Tammy studied the wall nearest to her for flaws as she chanted her husband's name mentally over and over.
CHAPTER 37
Harlson shut the door to the conference room and then he walked purposefully to Luke.
“Here it is,” Harlson said, holding up a small plastic bag that contained the piece of fabric recovered from the Austen murder site. "I talked a forensics guy who owes me a favor into lending me this piece of the evidence."
Lucas stared at the gray shard of cloth for a moment. He wondered what would happen to him if he saw the wolf again. He remembered what touching Dolores Dimitri's scrap of clothing had done to him. Now he was going to touch an actual possession of the killer's, and he had no idea what to prepare himself for. He had a theory on what to do if he encountered the wolf again. But if he was wrong, he wasn't the only one who would be screwed. Tammy depended on him.
“Are you sure about this, sport?” Harlson asked. "If you get hit with another seizure-"
“I have to be sure,” Luke said, taking the bag from the detective.
But he was still hesitant to open the bag. “I’m just...” Luke paused, trying to put his fear into words. It wasn’t easy. Fatigue claimed every fiber of him.
His head pounded and he knew this could end badly. But every moment mattered for his wife's survival. Lucas weighed his options, and he realized that Harlson could see the quandary he was in. But Lucas didn't give a good fuck about appearances at the moment.
If I go under in this state and can never come back, then I’ll do neither one of us good, he thought. But if I don’t act now, I might never get her back.
“Shit, man. I’m scared,” Luke admitted. He didn’t care about the emotionless dinosaur that was standing next to him.
He was terrified on every level. Lucas wanted to curl up in a ball. He wanted to just let this monster of fate devour him. There was so much falling down around him. His life had been torn apart in hours. The fatigue, the dread. It had him entrenched in uncertainty. He was overwhelmed.
“We’re all scared, Luke,” Harlson said softly. “Every morning of every day that we wake up and leave our safe little homes and step out into this shitty world. We wait for the safe to drop on our heads. Don’t be ashamed of the fear. But if your theory is right, then you have to see this through. I’ll be here for you, but you have to face this alone and I know how God awful scared you must be of it. Think of your wife. You’ll find the courage you need.”
Luke nodded. “You’re right,” he said, damning the fright. "Thanks."
"How can I help you with this?" Harlson asked.
“I’m going to need total concentration,” Luke said.
“Are you sure I should leave you alone?” Harlson said.
“If the worst happens, it won’t matter if you’re right next to me or a million miles away. And I don’t need any distractions.”
"Okay, sport," Harlson relented. “But I will be close. I’ll crack that door open and peek in on you periodically.”
“Sounds good,” Luke said.
He studied Harlson for a moment. Luke had been so preoccupied that he hadn’t noticed the permanent grimace of pain on the detective's face. Harlson was sweating, though the room was cool, and his face looked sunken and greenish. The cancer was eating him up at a startling rate.
“Are you going to make it?” Luke asked.
“I’ll see this through,” Harlson promised. “It’s all I have left.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke muttered.
“Ain’t we all,” Harlson said with a tight grin. “But I have this chance to take something with me. You do your part, and then I’ll do mine.”
“If I don’t come out of this, promise me you’ll keep looking for her,” Luke said. “I need to know that someone will keep trying.”
“I’ll never give up. Besides, you’ll make it back out. I’ve got faith in you. And I don't put faith in much.”
Harlson walked to the door. He paused and turned back. “Be careful, partner.”
He left.
Luke settled into a padded conference room chair and he gently released the gray piece of cloth from the baggie. He shut his eyes and he rolled the material with his fingertips. His mind cast aside its burdens after a great surge of willpower and his focus turned to his haven. He thought of his pond and he went in much easier than he had expected to.
But his haven began to gray and wilt. The pond froze over and the clouds grew dark and angry. Lucas felt cold and he watched in fear and fascination as the little refuge he had built was slowly destroyed by a force that shouldn't have had the power or capability to strip the environment away.
Everything died, curled and faded from his sight. Lucas stood on a foggy barren landscape. The wind howled in his ears. He shielded his face from the forceful air that felt as if it were evolving into a dangerous sentient being.
Luke felt vulnerable and weak. Psychic energy ran helter-skelter paths like tiny streaking comets in the churning wind. They left glowing yellow trails behind. The small glowing psychic orbs began to congregate near him. They buzzed around him like angry bees roused from their hive.
Luke felt emotions coming off of them. Pain. Joy. Triumph. Sorrow. Lucas suddenly had a guess as to where he was- this was a ghost town of impressions. They ran through him in a bitter wind and they were attracted to him like moths to light.
He did not elicit their attention, but the orbs came at him. He ignored their pleas for redemption or vindication.
"Please, I can't help you right now," Lucas said softly.
They left him, disappearing in the wind, and at first Lucas thought they were complying with his request.
But when the wind died and the tumultuous plane became deathly still, he realized they had left for another reason entirely. The gray was suddenly torn asunder as the colossal head of the wolf shook the realm with its howl. It bayed in the sky over Luke's head.
It towered over Lucas. Its fangs were as large as skyscrapers and its eyes blazed like twin suns. Luke was thrown to
the ground by the wolf’s intrusion.
He stood up, undaunted by the monstrous image.
Nothing can hold so much power here, he thought. This is a smoke screen. A Halloween mask. I don’t know how this Dreg managed such a psychic barrier, but it can broken. I know it can.
The wolf began to descend on Luke, its hungry mouth opening and flaming spittle showering down all around him.
I know what happens if I resist you, Luke thought, praying his hunch was right. Let’s see what happens if I don't.
When the wolf was close enough, Lucas leapt into its fiery mouth and he was immediately sucked into a vortex.
He landed on his feet in a still and dark place. Suddenly, images spun around him and thoughts that weren't his own echoed in his mind.
Dreg was revealed to Luke, from the killer's conception in Louisiana to his wanderings and the hunt. Luke still could not see the man behind the wolf. He had managed to slip past one huge barrier, but it was clear to Lucas that he had other obstacles to clear.
He stilled his mind and he let Dreg's thoughts into his head. They were random and out of sequence in many cases. Luke was as enthralled by them as he was repulsed.
He was still assimilating everything when a trap door seemed to open underneath him. Luke plummeted downward, free falling into a dark abyss.
He quickly began concentrating on leaving this place. His descending spiral increased in velocity. His eyes, dry from the hot black wind rushing up from below him, focused on the endless expanse of darkness below him. He concentrated harder on escaping this place. A force above him, which felt like a huge hand, rammed into his back, and he fell harder into the limbo.
Luke's awareness was broken as his head snapped up and the oppression on his body took his breath from him. He reminded himself of the importance of escaping as the force crushing him downward increased. He concentrated again, panic gripping him.
He closed his eyes and thought home, over and over again. When he opened his eyes, the abyss still below and unseen force still guiding his plummet, he screamed.
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