After Shock

by C. J. Lyons

  Now she knew what the beast fed on. Just had to figure out how to keep him happy long enough for her to kill him.

  He crouched down beside her again. “Megan’s the easy choice,” he said in a conversational tone. He softly stroked her hair away from her eyes. “After all, Nick can always have more kids. Let’s see… she’s in English now. That gives my guys time to grab her when classes change in nine minutes.”

  “No.” Lucy had to fight to keep the anger from her voice, to reveal only her pain. “Please. No.”

  Her entire body shook—cold and pain and adrenaline taking their toll. She lay on her back in the growing shadows that filled the pit, the cerulean sky dancing at the edge of her vision. Freedom. She couldn’t let it distract her, had to think only of keeping this madman happy.

  “You’re right. Best to save Megan for last. Besides, she’s easy to get to. Any time.” He pursed his lips as if concentrating, consulted his phone once more. “Let’s see. Your mom’s at a planning committee for the church bazaar. And then she’ll be meeting her gentleman friend, Charlie, for an early-bird dinner and bowling. Did she tell you, she bowled a one-eighty last week?”

  Lucy let the shakes devour her body, released herself to her tears. Snot poured from her nose, and she turned her face into her shoulder to wipe it clean. Closed her eyes for an instant, hiding her triumph.

  Bastard wasn’t all-seeing, all-powerful. He didn’t know her mom had canceled her plans with Charlie to babysit Megan tonight. Her mom wouldn’t be anywhere near her own home this afternoon; she’d be coming into the city to Lucy’s house. Could she take the chance, send him to Mom’s house?

  No. Too risky—he obviously had someone following her. They’d know when she left for Lucy’s place.

  “Not your mom?” His tone was a strange mix of surprise and pleasure. “I’d actually thought you would have chosen her. She’s old, already had her chance at a family, happiness. So it’s Nick? Really?”

  Nick. Yes. He was at the VA today instead of his private office. He’d be surrounded all day, and into the night since he had group. Protected by his patients, soldiers—young, fit, ready for action.

  “Lucy? I need to know. Who do you want me to kill? Is it Nick? Megan? Or your mom?” The man sounded impatient, as if Lucy had been dawdling for no good reason.

  Lucy rolled her face back up to the thin slice of sky, keeping her expression blank. Stray tears coated her eyelashes, coloring the world with rainbows as she blinked. Her face was numb, her body numb, and she used that to her advantage.

  He leaned forward, his face blocking the sky, creating her world. Master of the universe.

  For now. Bastard.

  She buried her fury beneath the numbness. “Please. I gave you what you wanted. That’s the real code. I promise.” She was sobbing again, tears warming her frozen skin. “It’s the day Megan was conceived. How could I make that up?” Again, the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. Good.

  His gaze searched hers. Then he abruptly stood, towering over her. “Answer me, Lucy.” He planted his booted foot over her injured one and shifted his weight down.

  The blissful numbness vanished in a tsunami of pain, swamping all conscious thought. Lucy couldn’t restrain her scream. It echoed through the small space, escaped into the empty sky so far overhead, then disappeared.

  “Who’s it going to be, Lucy? Who’s going to die?”

  He applied more pressure to her ankle. Lucy’s body jackknifed upright, her shoulders straining against the handcuffs as another shriek escaped. He removed his boot. Her pants leg was shredded, the black fabric looking like soot caught in a mass of blood and mangled tissue. Nothing remained of her sock, and she swore she saw the glint of bone in the ugly gaping wound that extended from her shin down to her foot.

  All this filled her vision in the time it took for her scream to consume all the breath in her body. She fell back, gasping.

  He raised his boot high, ready to stomp down with all his weight.

  “No!” she cried. “Nick! Take Nick.”

  Now

  7:14 p.m.

  Lucy closed her fist around the phone, but the nurse easily wrested it away. “Please. I need to talk to the FBI.”

  The nurse looked at her skeptically. “Deputy Renfew said he’d already called.”

  “And is waiting to hear back from the duty agent. My family is in danger. They may not have time.”

  The nurse squinted at Lucy, then the door, and finally nodded. “But I’ll dial, and we keep it on speaker.”

  Lucy gave her Walden’s direct number. When he answered, the nurse took over. “This is Mary Townsend, a nurse in the ER at Riverside Community Hospital. To whom am I speaking?”

  “FBI Special Agent Isaac Walden. What do you need?”

  Never had Lucy been so relieved to hear Walden’s deep, soothing tones. She reached for the phone, but the nurse held it away from her. “Do you work with a Lucy Guardino?”

  “Yes. She’s my boss. Supervisory special agent in charge of our Sexual Assault Felony Enforcement squad. Why?” Concern edged his voice. “Has something happened?”

  “Could you please describe her?”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. She didn’t have time for this nonsense. Walden responded with a thumbnail description of her, enough to satisfy the nurse, who finally handed Lucy the phone. Lucy held it close to her lips, straining to raise her voice loud enough to carry through the airwaves.

  “Find Nick and Megan,” she said. “And secure my mother—she should be at my house with Megan. Nick’s at the VA. This morning I was abducted, and the man threatened my family. He has my administrator database code, so call Taylor and have him run a security sweep of the system and alert Clarksburg and Quantico.” Her voice faded to a thin, raspy whisper.

  “Are you safe now?” Walden asked.

  “Yes.” Lucy could barely manage the single syllable.

  The nurse interrupted. “She has several fractures and severe damage to her left foot and ankle. The doctors are talking to Three Rivers about a transfer to get her to the surgical specialists she needs to save her leg.”

  Lucy grabbed the phone back. “Get my family to safety.”

  “On it,” he assured her. “Can you describe any of the subjects?”

  “I—” She paused, realizing that the nurse was listening to an admission of guilt. What the hell, it was self-defense, pure and simple. “I killed the man I saw. During my escape. A county deputy, Renfew, ID’d him as Lloyd Cramer. I don’t know how many accomplices he has.”

  “Got it. Let me check on your family and tag this deputy as well as Taylor. I’ll call you back soon as I have answers.” He hung up.

  Lucy sagged back in the chair, still gripping the phone like it was a lifeline. “One more call?” she asked the nurse in a meek tone. “My husband. Please?”

  Walden had suitably impressed the nurse, who nodded. “Of course. No problem. I’m going to see if they’re transferring you or not. Agent Guardino.” She added the last in a tone of respect.

  Lucy couldn’t care less about the title or her medical care. All she cared about was reaching Nick. She called his cell, holding her breath until he answered. “Callahan here.”

  She couldn’t respond right away: her heart felt as if it had leapt into her throat, swelling with gratitude. Nick was alive. He was okay.

  “Hello?” he repeated, his Virginia accent leaking through. “Anybody there?”

  “It’s me,” she said. “Lucy,” she added, in case her hoarse whisper wasn’t clear.

  “Lucy, what’s wrong?”

  “Where’s Megan? Have you seen or spoken with her or my mom?”

  “There’s a story.” Country-western music in the background. He was in his car—the only place he listened to that radio station. “She conned your mother into letting her and Emma get a ride after karate from Emma’s older sister. Only instead of going to Emma’s house, they went to check on Zeke at the vet’s. And then Emma and her sister left Mega
n there while they went to that damn movie.”

  Megan was alone? Panic parched her mouth. Before she was able to form any words, Nick continued, “Just picked up the little rug rat, and we’re on our way home to have dinner with your mom. Say hi, Megan. It will be the last time you get to use a phone for a long, long time.”

  “Mom.” Megan’s voice carried through, lighting Lucy’s heart with a joyous fire. “Tell Dad he’s overreacting. I didn’t mean to lie, not really. But I knew you didn’t want me going to the movie, and I really, really wanted to see Zeke, make sure he was okay. And I asked Grams for permission—well, kind of—so there’s no reason to ground me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Nick said. “Anyway, what’s up? Your voice sounds funny—don’t tell me you got into a shouting match with those bozos in Harrisburg. Hey, Walden’s on the other line.”

  Lucy chose her words carefully, not sure if Megan could hear her. “Nick. Don’t go home. I never made it to Harrisburg. A man threatened me as well as my family—”

  “Are you okay?” His voice changed, became razor-sharp.

  “I’m fine. I had a little accident. They brought me to Riverside Community.”

  “We’re on our way. What about your mother? She’s waiting at the house.”

  “Walden’s sending someone. He’ll arrange an escort for you as well.”

  “Why? Thanks to Megan’s escapades, no one could possibly know where we are, and if you’re safe at the hospital, then we will be as well. I’ll call Walden back, tell him to have your mom brought there.”

  Great. Just what she didn’t need: explaining the events of the day to her mother. But he was right. There was no way her captor’s accomplices could know where she was—hell, they probably didn’t even know he was dead yet. With her family safe and Walden on the job, she could finally relax.

  She glanced at her mangled leg. Thought about the kind of person who would turn a beautiful animal into a vicious killing machine. Decided he’d gotten what he deserved back in that barn. “Is Megan’s puppy okay?”

  Nick’s laughter was better than any pain medicine the doctors had. “You big softy. Yes, he’s fine. The vet said we can bring him home tomorrow.”

  Exhaustion washed over her, pulling her under like a riptide. “Okay. Good. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Love you, Lucy-loo,” he whispered before hanging up.

  “Love you, too,” she replied, even though the line had already gone dead.

  Then

  3:53 p.m.

  Her scream died, burying Nick’s name in silence. Dear Lord, what had she done?

  Sobs shook her—real tears beyond her control. Nick would be okay, she promised herself. He could take care of himself, he was safe at the VA, he’d be all right.

  Lies to dull the pain.

  The man grunted in satisfaction, made a show of sending a text on his phone before pocketing it, then circled behind her, embracing her once more, his lips close to her ear as he whispered, “Nick it is.”

  He slid the rope that circled her chest out from under her arms, transforming it into a noose around her neck. “Get up, Lucy. Your work isn’t done.”

  The noose suspended from the overhead eyehooks was just tight enough to remind her how easy it would be to die: all she had to do was lean her weight forward. A few minutes later, it would all be over. If he hurt her family, she might consider that option. But only as a last resort—she wasn’t giving up the fight. Not yet.

  “What more do you want?” she asked from her position sitting on the floor.

  Instead of answering, he pulled her to her feet and lifted her back up onto the cinder block. Gone was the gentleness he’d shown when he lowered her into the pit earlier. Now he handled her as if she were less than human, an inconvenient object to be dealt with.

  She fought to find her balance on the cinder block. Keeping her good foot planted and allowing her injured one to dangle was almost as painful as bracing both feet on the narrow square. Suddenly the rope around her neck yanked taut. Her body jerked up, handcuffed arms arcing behind her.

  The cinder block wobbled beneath her, her foot slipped, and the noose tightened, digging into her neck. She gasped for air, could barely make a sound.

  “Whoops, not yet,” he muttered. He repositioned her foot on the cinder block, then dug a finger between the rope and her skin, loosening it enough that she could breathe.

  Lucy blinked against the wave of anxiety that swamped her as she hauled in one lungful of air after another, hyperventilating, rejoicing in the simple act of breathing.

  “Okay then,” he said in a calm tone that made her wish for just one chance to wrap her hands around his throat as tight as the noose he’d forced on her. “Guess I’ll be going.”

  He used a corner of the cinder block to boost himself up to the opening above them, almost knocking Lucy off-balance once more. The noose tightened, but not enough to cut off her air. She fought to regain her footing on the block as he swung free of the pit.

  To her surprise, he didn’t close the lid immediately. A few minutes after he left, water gushed from one of the pipes, flowing so hard and fast its spray quickly soaked her.

  “What are you doing?” she shouted into the rapidly growing darkness, straining to be heard. “I gave you what you wanted!”

  His laughter echoed from above, waning sunlight shimmering blood-red from the water filling the tank. Then he appeared once more. “I’m going to check out the code you gave me. If you told me the truth, I won’t be back. The Mexicans will have to be happy watching you either drown or hang yourself.

  “But,” he turned the simple word into a dire warning, “if you’ve tried to double-cross me, then I will return. Before the tank fills. And I’ll bring your daughter with me. You might want to stick around for that—if you lied and I get back and you’ve killed yourself, I’m giving her to the Mexicans.”

  “No. You said I could choose. Leave Megan alone. I told you the truth. The code works. I promise.” The rope around her neck made it hard to scream loud enough for her voice to carry above the sound of the rushing water. Not to mention the pain shooting through her as she struggled to keep her balance with the water surging against the cinder block. It took all her willpower and concentration to keep enough of her weight on the block to prevent the water from pushing it away.

  “I sure hope so, Lucy. For Megan’s sake. But either way, Nick dies. Like I said. I’m a man of my word.” He slid the lid closed, leaving her alone in the black emptiness of the tank.

  Lucy didn’t waste time or energy. She focused her entire being into moving her handcuffed hands into the jacket pocket where Megan’s bracelet lay. On that and not losing her footing on the damn cinder block. Hard to do between the gushing water below and her entire body suspended from the noose, shaking above.

  Finally, her fingers grasped the bracelet. She twisted the Paracord until she had a firm grip on the handcuff key concealed in the clasp. She had to bend her wrist and contort her arms to get the key into the lock.

  Just as she flexed her wrists far enough to turn the key, the cinder block wobbled an inch too far and toppled, leaving her body dangling from the noose. The rope cut into the flesh around her neck, cutting off her air. She kept working the key; it was her only hope.

  Her entire weight pulled against the noose that strangled her. Her vision flared red against the blackness surrounding her. But she managed to keep control of her fingers long enough to turn the key. The click she’d been waiting for resonated through her entire body.

  She fumbled one hand free and pried her fingers beneath the rope strangling her. Gasping for air, each breath burning her throat, she clung to the rope. Without the cinder block, she’d have to use the rope and the wall for leverage—not easy with one leg out of commission, but it was the only way.

  Lucy gritted her teeth and pushed her leg against the wall to lift her weight enough so she could pull the rope loose and free her head from the noose. Then she dropped to
the floor, landing on her good foot and hanging onto the rope with one hand. Using the other to find the cinder block and set it back upright, she took a deep breath and gathered her strength for the climb out.

  The water was already up to her ankles, but that was the least of her worries. If he was monitoring the camera—she assumed it was positioned in the other pipe, the one that didn’t have water flowing through it—then this might be an even shorter escape than her earlier one.

  And the dog? What if the dog was waiting up there for her?

  She grabbed the rope and pulled up her good leg to stand on the cinder block. Dog or no dog, killer or no killer, she was Nick’s only hope.

  She’d be damned if she’d let anything stop her from saving him and Megan.

  Now

  7:27 p.m.

  The nurse returned just as Lucy was wiping her tears of relief with the sleeve of her gown. “Everything okay?”

  Lucy sniffed and smiled. “Yes. My family’s safe. They’re on their way.”

  “Great.” The nurse pushed Lucy’s chair back into the trauma bay. She grabbed a warm blanket from a steel cabinet and tucked it around Lucy’s lap. She didn’t ask for the cell phone back; Lucy hung onto it, hoping that Nick or Walden would call and update her.

  “Let’s get a move on,” the waiting doctor said.

  “Where?” Lucy asked.

  “The surgeons at Three Rivers want an MRI. We only have one tech this time of night, but I told them this is a priority.” The doctor barely made eye contact as he spoke, standing over Lucy and looking down on her. It made her neck hurt to look up at him, so Lucy didn’t bother.

  “I’m not leaving until my family gets here.”

  “We’ll send the scan to Three Rivers by computer. They’ll decide whether or not to Life Flight you.” He spoke as if what she wanted were irrelevant.

  “My family can drive me. Silly to waste a helicopter trip.” Lucy wasn’t arguing just to be a contrarian, although she definitely enjoyed pissing off the arrogant doctor. Driving this time of night—especially with Walden escorting them—would only take ten or fifteen minutes longer than flying.