Right on his heels, Cole followed, keeping all senses on high alert. If by some chance Douglas saw Zax and took him down with the first shot, Cole would try to hide detection and find a way into the house. He was not going to give up; no matter the consequences; no matter the cost.
Zax peered around the front of the barn toward the house. After pausing a few seconds, he slipped off his backpack and pulled out his rangefinder.
Moving past the big guy, Cole cautiously looked and saw an orange Benski moving truck parked in the driveway behind Mr. Buddy’s old green Chevy S-10. Something out of the ordinary was certainly about to take place. He breathed a little easier knowing that they weren’t too late. But that was only a small gain compared to the challenges that faced them ahead.
Cole whispered, “What are you doing?”
“I’m adjusting the rangefinder’s scanning capabilities. I was hoping I could get it to pick up thermal images, but it doesn’t have that capability. That way we could see the exact location of people inside. The best I can do is get a layout of rooms in the house. I can tell you this, there is a large basement underneath. It would be the perfect place to keep someone locked up.”
“That moving truck. Do you think that’s how they plan on moving her out?”
“A moving truck is large and bulky. I wouldn’t think you’d want to use such a slow vehicle to commit a crime like this one.” Zax paused a moment, and continued, “Hang on. Let me check this out.”
The Nu-Man readjusted the rangefinder, and after a few seconds, Zax said, “Oh, I see now.”
“What?”
“That’s not an ordinary truck. There is a false compartment near the cab. It’s roomy enough to fit several people. I bet this vehicle has been used in smuggling for a long time.”
“Wow, I guess there’s a lot of money to be made in human trafficking.”
“Human trafficking,” Zax said. “Our society never faced anything like that. We were basically slaves to the Skinks, of sorts. Our culture never included subjugating Nu-Mans to fellow Nu-Mans.”
“What do we do now?” Cole asked. “We can’t just go knock on the door and ask them to invite us in.”
“Who said anything about knocking? I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about your story before, but I am now.” Zax put the rangefinder back in his pack and slid it around his shoulders. With his blaster firmly in his hands, he said, “The element of surprise is a mighty fist. That’s an old rebel saying.”
“I thought we might go all ninja on them.”
“Ninja? What does that mean?”
“Ninjas wear black and are undetectable. They sneak in and kill you before you know they’re there.”
“Not today, for us. I’m a bit too large for that,” Zax said. He then asked, “What do you call it when you throw everything you have into a quick assault?”
“Beast mode.”
“Beast mode? I like that!” Zax said enthusiastically. “Cole Rainwater, it’s time to go beast mode on these rotten bags of garbage!”
*
Dougie Douglas had awoken with a smile on his face, despite the fact that the berries beneath his twig still ached from the kick that brat had delivered the day before. When he recovered from the blow, he got so angry he thought he was going to have a stroke. But just as he was about to go and make her pay double for what she had done to him, a winning bid came in over the Darknet. The amount of cash that entered his overseas bank account put out the fire of his anger like it had been quenched by the Arctic Ocean.
Three shot glasses sat on the kitchen counter. It was early morning, but it was after five p.m. somewhere on the planet. This was a time to celebrate, though no time to get sloppy.
“You want another? I’ll let you have one more before you skedaddle out of here. Wouldn’t want you to get pulled over at a time like this. I guess I shouldn’t be feeding you drinks at all. But I have a rule in my house. I never drink alone when I have a guest. Two won’t affect a big boy like you,” Douglas said to the Benski truck driver, the carrier of his expensive goods.
The truck driver had the build of a ’50s refrigerator. He would have made an excellent football lineman. Douglas imagined that the 3rd grade might have been a little too hard on him to consider graduating past the 6th.
“Heck no, mister. I drink a fifth a night and chase that with a twelve-pack of beer,” the truck driver smiled, showing dark tobacco dip between his lips and teeth.
“How about you, Buddy?” Douglas asked. “I’m having another.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” the janitor said.
Something was different about Buddy that day. He seemed more confident—as if he had more self-respect. The man didn’t seem nervous at all about the situation. This annoyed Douglas a bit. He liked Buddy just the way he had been. The man knew his place and walked the straight and narrow. He didn’t need a partner who thought himself Douglas’ equal. “Here you go.” He poured each glass full and set the bottle down.
Lifting the shot glass up, Douglas said, “To the future. ‘The day of fortune is like a harvest day. We must be busy when the corn is ripe’.”
The three downed the whiskey and set the glasses back on the counter.
“That was a purty saying, but the corn ain’t ripe. Heck, it ain’t even growing yet,” the truck driver said.
“That was just something I read while I was in prison. Some I-talian poet, I think. You’ve got to remember that I had a lot of free time on my hands while I was in the pokey. What I’m saying is that the corn that’s ripe is sitting right inside this house. You are about to transport said corn. Today is our day of fortune.”
“Oh,” is all the truck driver had to say about that.
“I got it,” Buddy said, his eyes squinted and sparkled with the kiss of the spirits of the bottle.
Douglas smirked and gazed at Buddy for a few moments. He splashed his shot glass full and downed it, never offering any to his partner. He ran the back of his hand over the shaggy growth on his upper lips. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Okay, boss,” the truck driver said.
“You stay here in the kitchen. Buddy and I’ll bring them up. There’s not a lot of room down there, if you catch my drift.”
“Yes sir. I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”
Well, at least the buffoon had a clue about something. Douglas wondered how someone with that low of intelligence had been given such a high level of responsibility to transport such valuable merchandise. Maybe it had to do with layering the system with subordinates who had the least chance of connecting them to the buyers.
None of that mattered now. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s get this over with.”
No sooner had the two men entered the living room, something huge hit the front door, sending it flying open and crashing against the wall. The hinge at the top broke loose from the door frame.
A brownish blur filled the open doorway.
*
Cole shadowed the big Nu-Man as the giant kicked the front door, knocking it open like a swinging door from an old western movie. The door crashing against the wall sounded almost like a gun going off. Anyone in the house would know they were here.
Two cries of surprise later, Cole found himself by a wall next to the kitchen. Zax stood between two men lying on the floor. As expected, one was old man Douglas, and the other was Mr. Buddy. “Are they…?”
“No, they’re not dead. It doesn’t take much effort to take down a human. I had to be real careful around Tarik.”
“Who’s Tarik?”
“That’s another long story. I’ll have to tell you later,” Zax said looking down at the floor. “What are you doing in here? I told you to stay outside?”
“You did. I didn't listen,” Cole said unapologetically.
“Some friend you are,” Zax said, shaking his head.
Cole shrugged. “You’re not the boss of me.” As he waited for a rebuttal, Cole saw Zax’s face light up like someone had put his finger in an
electrical socket.
“Cole!” Zax screamed.
His peripheral caught an object that had jutted past the doorway to the kitchen. Without thinking, and in one swift motion, Cole brought the bat down and struck a hand holding a revolver right at the wrist.
The gun fired with the bullet striking the floor a few feet in front of Zax.
Cole wasn’t sure if Zax had bounded to the doorway or just leaped from where he stood. All he knew was that the big guy was now in the kitchen. A hard slap and a whimper later, Zax stepped out. “I think that’s all of them, but you wait here while I check it out.”
Zax went down the hall and checked the bedrooms. He came out less than a minute later. “All clear. Now, we need to find our way to the basement.”
Mr. Buddy partially laid on a big rug that had Zax’s interest. He moved the janitor to the side and pulled back the rug.
“Bingo!” Cole said.
“Is that what you call a door on a floor, bingo?”
“No. It’s a game. It’s…we don’t have time for this. I’ll tell you later.”
The wood on the floor had been mitered to recess a latch. Sliding back the bolt, Zax lifted the false flooring, revealing a narrow ladder. “I don’t think I’m going to fit.”
“Move aside, then. I got this,” Cole said stepping forward.
“What if someone else is down there? You know, a bad guy.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll yell and let you know. If I can’t take him, you find someway to get down there and rescue Charlotte. Don’t worry about me. Just make sure she’s safe.”
Zax moved aside and got on his knees by the opening.
Cole left the bat on the floor and stuck a foot down the hole and onto a rung of the ladder. “You shouldn’t be here when I bring up Charlotte. When I find her, I’ll give you a signal. Go outside and hide. We’ll make it out okay. I’ll come and see you tomorrow.” He began his descent on the ladder.
When Cole’s head lowered to meet Zax’s gaze, the big guy said, “Be careful.”
“Okay, Dad,” sarcasm laced Cole’s words.
“Hey! I’m your friend. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Zax said, obviously offended.
“Are we in beast mode or are we not in beast mode? Don’t get mushy on me,” Cole said, making his point.
“Just hurry up,” Zax said with half-open eyes. “Kids…what to do with them.”
Zax’s words trailed off as Cole’s feet hit the floor. He pulled a thin chain hanging from the ceiling, and an overhead light came on.
Near the opposite wall, the floor in front of a metal shelf looked scoffed up like something had been dragged across it. He stepped over and grabbed it by the frame. There were a few boxes on the shelves, but they appeared to be empty. Without too much effort, he was able to slide it aside.
Behind the shelf, he saw a door. Across the door was a plank of wood set in place to keep anyone inside the room from coming out.
This was it. This was another one of those moments of truth. In just a few seconds, he would either get the relief of his life or a disappointment that would last for all eternity. This moment would be forever sealed in his mind.
Taking a deep breath, he lifted the plank from the hooks it rested on. He pulled the door open and looked inside the room.
A young boy sat by a coffee table. He was watching TV but then turned to look his way.
The room was small, with a bed over by one side of the wall.
An empty bed.
There were boxes stacked up in front of one corner and a mini-refrigerator by another wall.
But there was no Charlotte.
He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but he had failed.
The four corners of his mind started to fold inward.
The back of his head felt cold and numb.
Cole’s reality started melting.
He had lost his place in the universe.
Chapter 23
“Cole! It’s you!” Charlotte screamed with surprise.
“Charlotte!” Pulled from his quagmire, Cole couldn’t believe his very eyes. Charlotte had been in the room, hiding behind some stacked boxes in the corner.
Something was in her right hand, and she was careful to keep it away from his head when she flung her arms around him. “Thank God that you’re here!”
He felt her arms wrap around him, and it was the most blissful moment in his life. He had found her! It was up to him to make it so. He believed in himself and knew that the only way this moment would come true was if he never gave up!
“Where are the police? I heard a gunshot. Did they get that sick man? I hope they lock him away forever,” Charlotte said so fast the words sounded like one run-on sentence.
“No, the police aren’t here.” Then Cole remembered Zax waited for his signal. He turned his head a little toward the open doorway, and said loudly, “No, the police aren’t here, CHARLOTTE.”
“Why are you yelling my name?” she asked, turning her head and raising a wary eyebrow.
“Uh, I guess I’m just so excited to see you,” Cole said. “Come on. We need to leave.”
“Let’s go, Raymond,” Charlotte said.
“Can I wait for my cartoon to end?” Raymond asked.
“No, I’m afraid not. If we leave now, we can see your parents soon,” she said.
“Yay! Let’s go.”
“That’s Raymond Jones, isn’t it?” Cole asked.
“Yeah. He’s been down here the whole time.”
Charlotte took her arms from around him. He gazed deeply into her eyes. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Douglas and Mr. Buddy were still unconscious on the floor. Whatever they had done to Charlotte, he was going to do to them ten-fold.
“No. They didn’t hurt me or Raymond.” Charlotte brought the object she had in her right hand into view.
“What’s that?” Cole asked.
“It’s sort of a knife I made. I took a soda can and bent it back and forth enough to where I was able to tear it in half. From there, I shaped it the best I could with my bare hands into a knife blade. I rolled up some cardboard to make a handle.”
“That thing sure looks deadly. Great job!” Cole said, genuinely impressed. This said a lot about Charlotte’s character. The girl was like him. She was in for the fight until the bitter end.
But there had been no bitter end this time. “Okay, let’s go.” He turned to Raymond. “Little guy, lead the way.”
Raymond stepped forward and headed out the door. Cole followed close behind him up the ladder in case he fell. There were no incidents, though.
He and Raymond waited as Charlotte emerged to the living room.
She looked at the two bodies on the floor. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “Mr. Buddy? What’s he doing here?”
“He was in on it. That’s old man Douglas. They were partners. There’s another guy in the kitchen. He’s the driver that was going to take you and Raymond away,” Cole said.
“Are they…dead?” she asked.
“No, but I might have come back and killed them if they had hurt you.”
“Cole…you did this to them?”
“Yes!” he said without flinching.
“How?”
“See that baseball bat over there? It’s not just for hitting fastballs,” Cole said, at least that statement wasn’t a lie. “We can talk about all of this later.”
Unclipping his phone from his belt, he called Brennon as fast as he could. He didn’t check on the boy earlier when he and Zax arrived at the farm as he planned. He hoped to goodness Brennon was near and they didn’t have to wait on the police.
After two rings, Brennon answered, “Cole?”
“Brennon! Thank goodness. Drive over to Douglas’ now! I’ve got Charlotte!”
“You do?”
“Yeah, man! And I’ve got Raymond Jones too. We’re heading down the driveway, and we’ll be by the road in a couple of minutes. Get your butt over here now!” Cole didn’t wait to
hear what else Brennon had to say. It was time to leave.
“Brennon’s going to pick us up in his Mustang. Let’s go and wait for him by the road.”
Raymond led the way, and Charlotte followed behind. As the three kicked up dust, running down the driveway, Cole looked behind and saw Zax by the barn. The big guy gave him a wave.
Cole furtively waved back.
Just before they reached the end of the driveway, the red Mustang streaked up the road and skidded to a stop.
Cole dashed ahead of the other two and opened the passenger door.
Raymond entered first, and Charlotte followed.
Cole plopped down in the passenger seat and tapped on the dash. “Let’s go!”
The Mustang made a wide turn and headed back toward town.
The bright red car diminished to a small point as it chewed up black asphalt. Leaving the horrors of the real world to await final judgment.
*
The day before seemed like a blur when Cole thought about it. Really, how often was it that someone gets to meet a genetic hybrid of bigfoot and man who had traveled from the future and then rescued two abductees from human traffickers?
Brennon had a thousand million questions on the way to the police department, as well as Charlotte.
Raymond pretty much just sat in the back seat and made car noises mimicking the Mustang’s throaty engine, and giggled. He said he liked to go fast, and at one point, asked Brennon if he could drive it some day.
The police and FBI had a thousand million questions, and his dad had a thousand million and one.
Cole couldn’t remember a time he felt so tired when he finally was able to crawl in bed that night. He slept peacefully, too, even though he dreamed. There was no bigfoot in his dream that night. Instead, the night terror had given way to a dream about a baseball game. He was on the pitcher’s mound in a game, but there were no other players on his team on the field. The batter was in the box, but no catcher behind the plate to do the job. It was just him against the other team. He had to throw a perfect game and hoped to hit a homerun to win. Despite the odds, he was up for the challenge. In fact, he remembered the feeling he had in the dream when he was up on the mound. It was a feeling of confidence, and he had a yearning to take it on to prove he could win.
Genetic Abomination Page 25
