Certain Reprisal

by Kevin Macklin

  We fell over on the couch with me on top. I planted kisses along her jaw, down her neck.

  Raised my head.

  Her eyes sparkled.

  My hands moved to the buttons of her jacket and I freed each one. She sat up, allowing the jacket to fall, revealing a spaghetti strap top and smooth, brown shoulders.

  I lifted her shirt above her head, releasing breasts unbound by a bra. She lay back down and I continued tattooing her body with kisses. Took one nipple in my mouth, then the other. Soft moans escaped her lips, and I took her cue. Continued giving her pleasure.

  I stood up, extending my six foot, two inch frame and removed my own shirt. She followed suit, removing her pants and heels. I pulled her into an embrace, her naked body against my bare chest. Then I eased her back onto the couch.

  I continued my trail of kisses south, onward south. Like a Yankee explorer in search of the Florida wetlands, which I soon discovered.

  My tongue explored her valley, searching, searching. Until I found that magic spot. She grabbed the back of my head, pulling me deeper into her sweet valley.

  I savored her flavor. Dined at her five star establishment until waves began to roll through her body and she called out to the heavens.

  Lisa took my face in her hands, kissed me. Licked my lips and delighted in her taste. Then her hand went to my pants and took hold of my erection.

  I scooped her from the couch and she wrapped her legs around my waist. We made our way to the bedroom locked like lustful jiu jitsu players.

  Her wetlands formed a tributary that flowed down my stomach.

  Once we reached the bedroom I laid her on the bed, but her hungry hands clawed at my belt.

  "I want you inside me," she said, softly.

  I entered her. Created a rift in her valley. Her sharp intake of air was audible as she slowly opened up for me. Pain was evident on her face, so I took my time, until she accepted me fully.

  Her orgasm came quickly, and as the tide began to rise, I couldn't control myself. But, I was a soldier, and I soldiered on.

  Another orgasm flowed through her, and she said, "You're gonna make me fall in love."

  "I'm not opposed to that," I responded.

  She rolled onto her stomach and took me in her mouth. Her tongue was pure sorcery, and I was falling under her spell. I moaned, and cursed, and called out her name. I shook, and writhed, and thrashed as if possessed by a demon.

  I climbed onto her back and took her as she lay flat on her stomach. Rode her like she was a thoroughbred mare and I was a jockey, headed down the home stretch.

  Her hands clenched the sheets, her back arched. Breath came in gasps. Tremors took her.

  Then, she tapped out.

  We lazed in the bed until the sun set. Went another round somewhere in there. But, for the most part, we just hung out, naked, enjoying each other's company.

  Chapter 24

  After Mahoney's shift ended, a little past midnight, he went straight to his destination, making only one stop in the process, to pick up Dalton. Once they'd arrived, Dalton went around back to make a covert entrance while Mahoney rang the front doorbell.

  Anxiety, surprise, and fear coursed through Rivers' system as he opened the door to find Mahoney standing there. Just when he thought he could be free of this guy, he comes knocking. Like he was the devil himself.

  Pushing his way past Rivers, Mahoney entered the house and looked around.

  He said, "I see you still have a lovely home. It's been too long, Lance."

  "Why are you here, Scott?" Rivers asked.

  "Now, I think you know exactly why I'm here."

  Rivers didn't respond.

  "Who did you tell, Lance?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Now, I think you do. I got a call from my bank today. Said some feds came in there with a warrant for the contents of my safety deposit box. You were the only person who knew about that box. So, who did you tell?"

  "I didn't tell anyone."

  "Wrong answer," Mahoney said.

  An arm snaked around Rivers' neck. Dalton had snuck up from behind as they carried on their conversation. Lance was so unnerved by Mahoney's presence that he never heard Dalton walk up.

  The choke was tight, practiced, and cut off the blood flow to his brain. Unconsciousness took him in a matter of seconds. Dalton eased the pressure and Lance slowly awakened.

  Mahoney asked, again, "Who did you tell?"

  Rivers shook his head. His voice was scratchy as he said, "Nobody."

  The vice tightened around his neck and, again, he lost consciousness.

  Mahoney slapped him a few times, coaxing awareness back into Lance.

  "Last chance," Mahoney said. "Who did you tell?"

  "A guy named Jon," Rivers croaked. "He was with some lady. I-"

  The pressure around his neck increased, interrupting his sentence. Mahoney had heard enough. It was obvious that Lance Rivers was a liability.

  And, liabilities must be eradicated.

  Lance passed out, again, but this would be the final time. There would be no mercy. There would be no saving grace. There would be no redemption.

  Mahoney was disappointed. All Lance had to do was nothing. Just keep living his little shit of a life, and he would have kept living his little shit of a life. Simple, right? But, no. He had to rock the boat. He had to fuck things up. He had to go dip his big fucking toe in shark infested waters when he could have kept swimming in his pristine backyard pool.

  Dalton held the choke in place long after Lance lost consciousness, long after the oxygen rich blood stopped flowing to his oxygen starved brain.

  Once death was certain, they carried Rivers' body into the backyard. Dalton went back inside, found a bedsheet in a closet and took it outside, grabbing a chair from the kitchen along the way. A mature pecan tree stood in the middle of the yard and Dalton tied one end of the sheet to a low hanging branch. The other end of the sheet went around Lance's neck. Mahoney kicked the chair over, beneath the swinging body, forming the coup de grâce.

  Chapter 25

  The night was alive with the songs of crickets, frogs, and various nocturnal creatures, as Lisa and I trekked through dense underbrush toward the trailer. The air was cool, and we both wore black hoodies, black pants, and black sneakers.

  The woods opened up into a clearing, in the middle of which sat the trailer, dark and silent. We scoped it out for a few minutes, but there was no movement and no sound. We approached cautiously and circled the outside of the trailer. A generator and barbecue grill were in the back, and an ATV and shovel were on the far side. Nothing else.

  I crept to the front door and put my ear to it, listening for any sounds from within. Heard nothing but silence, so I tested the handle. Locked. I'd brought along a lock picking set that I'd found useful over the years. Went to work and had the door unlocked within a couple minutes. Went inside.

  We were in the main room. Moonlight filtered in, providing a small amount of illumination. A sofa, couple of chairs, and small table were the only things of note in this room. Turning on my flashlight, I used my hand to dim the luminosity. Didn't want to present a big, glowing target or allow the light to be seen from outside.

  A sparsely appointed kitchen led to a narrow hallway that led to a bathroom and two bedrooms. Nothing inside interested us so we went back out into the night. Made a reverse circle around the trailer stopping at the shovel. I knelt and inspected it. The soil wasn't quite baked on, which led me to believe that some recent digging had been done.

  Next, I inspected the ATV. Knelt and looked at the tires. Came to the same conclusion as with the shovel. It had been used fairly recently.

  I stood and looked around, toward the tree line. Motioned for Lisa to follow. We walked the tree line until we saw the head of a trail.

  After walking the trail for about a quarter mile I noticed some of the underbrush to my right had been disturbed. We crashed into the foliage, following the broken st
ems of plants. Twigs and dried leaves crunched beneath our feet. Branches of trees slapped at our faces. I tried to hold as many as possible out of the way so they didn't hit Lisa, but the vegetation was thick and I only had one free hand with my other holding the flashlight. She was a trooper, though, and didn't offer one complaint.

  A few birds took flight, alarmed by our presence. Hell, they startled me. It was obvious that these woods didn't receive many visitors, and I wasn't concerned with stealth. I wanted animals to hear us coming. I would hate to be impaled by the antlers of some frightened buck.

  It was slow going and I couldn't tell you how far we'd come when the brush opened up to a small clearing. Letting the flashlight beam roam around, I saw something that drew my attention.

  Lisa followed as I walked towards the area of interest. I focused the light.

  A slight mound of freshly dug dirt.

  The mound was about six feet, and square-ish. Not being one to jump to conclusions, my stomach still dropped.

  I was hoping to not find something like this.

  We needed to find out what was beneath the dirt.

  Lisa and I made our way back to the trailer and retrieved the shovel.

  Back in the clearing, I began digging. Lisa paced aimlessly, wandering here and there, around the compact open space.

  Beads of sweat began to form above my brow, and my shirt clung to my chest beneath my hoodie.

  After about an hour of digging the shovel struck something other than dirt. I picked up the pace, working across the six foot span. Distinct shapes emerged from the soil.

  Bodies.

  Five by my count. Two of them were in a more advanced state of decay than the other three, although decomposition was working on them pretty well, also.

  And, the stench…

  The putrid smell was almost too much to handle.

  I called out to Lisa, who came over and stopped dead in her tracks once the stink hit her. She turned around and retched.

  "Oh my God," she cried. "I can't breathe."

  I knew what she meant. Every fiber of my being wanted to climb out of that hole and run as far away as I possibly could. Flies swarmed around me. I'd not had many experiences in my lifetime that were worse than this.

  And, the stench…

  A decaying human smells like nothing else you'd ever encounter.

  "Lisa," I said. "You have to come and take a look. Hold your breath if you must, but you're the only one who will know if your sister is here."

  She didn't want to. The look on her face was a strange mix of fear and disgust. She took tentative steps, like each one carried the weight of the solar system. But, onward she came.

  The two corpses that were in advanced stages of decay were less likely to be Lisa's sister, so I focused the light on the faces of the other three.

  "Noooooo," Lisa cried out, as she dropped to her knees and covered her face with trembling hands.

  Then, she jumped down into the trench with me and grabbed her sister around the shoulders, trying to lift her body.

  "Help me!" she screamed.

  I put my arm on Lisa's shoulder in an attempt to console her. She slapped my arm away.

  "Help me, or leave me."

  So, I helped.

  Squatting down, I scooped Nika into my arms and laid her on the ground beside the pit. I assumed Hennessey and Precious were the other two recently deceased. I had no clue who the others could have been.

  Lisa climbed out and crawled over to her sister, where she sat on her knees and silently cried.

  Chapter 26

  The two men stood on opposite sides of the bed as the woman slept. A light snore escaped her lips. She lived alone. No husband. And, no one else happened to be staying with her tonight. This, they knew for certain. They'd searched the rest of the apartment.

  She was alone.

  Mahoney's hand clamped down over her mouth, causing her to wake in a panic. She released a muffled scream and he flashed a knife in front of her eyes, which widened in response.

  The knife moved to the strap of her tank top, cut through the fabric like butter. Then, he used the knife to uncover her breast, and pressed the edge against her nipple.

  "Where's Denise?" he asked in a menacing voice.

  She shook her head and tried to say that she didn't know, but his hand prevented her words from escaping.

  Mahoney flicked the knife, separating nipple from breast. The woman began flopping and tried to scream, but his hand muffled the sound. Tears streamed from her eyes.

  Dalton leaned his forearm across her pelvis to restrict her movement.

  The whisper of fabric being cut was barely audible as Mahoney brought the blade down the side of her abdomen, revealing the bare skin beneath her tank top. The tip of the blade poked between two ribs with barely enough pressure to break the skin. He twisted the knife in a screwing motion and applied a little force.

  "Tell me. Where is Denise?"

  The pain was unbearable. Her breathing became erratic, coming in short gasps. She struck out with her hands, slapping Mahoney in the face, trying to push him away. He was just too strong, so in the end, she could do nothing but cry.

  Denise was her daughter. She would gladly die for her daughter. Wouldn't even think twice about it. She'd made so many sacrifices to make sure Denise was well taken care of and safe. That was a parent's job: to make sure their children were safe and protected. But, the body could only take so much pain.

  She could feel the knife scraping against the bones of her rib cage. This was a pain like she'd never felt before, and she'd given birth, which didn't even compare. This was a pain she never could have imagined. Ever. Then it eased.

  Mahoney noticed signs of shock beginning to take hold, so he removed the knife from her wound.

  "Are you ready to tell me where she is?" he asked.

  She didn't respond immediately. Her motherly instincts didn't want to tell him a damned thing.

  He put the knife back into the wound.

  The pain of having her bone slowly scraped away was just too much.

  "Ok," she said through his fingers.

  Mahoney smiled. "Now, there we go. Why didn't you just say that a long time ago? So, where is she?"

  The woman told Mahoney where to find her daughter.

  He asked a couple more questions.

  She answered them.

  "You know," he said in a contemplative tone. "A mother should never betray her child."

  He thrust the knife into her belly button, then pulled it across her abdomen, opening a gaping wound she wouldn't recover from.

  The two men left.

  The location given to Mahoney was in the same apartment complex, just a couple of buildings over.

  People like me are necessary because the sheep can't think for themselves. Mahoney's internal voice was harsh and ominous, a stark contrast to that with which he spoke. Stupid bitch was too dumb to leave the fucking complex!

  But, the reality was that these were people of meager resources. No vacation homes on the lake. No time shares down in Florida. No emergency funds or investment portfolios. No yachts, no private jets. No options.

  Nowhere to go.

  Mahoney and Dalton arrived at the apartment within a couple minutes of leaving Mother Rankin's place, and Dalton made quick work of the simple lock on the door.

  An exact replica of the elder Rankin's apartment in terms of floor plan, they were familiar with the layout and conducted a quick search, finding Denise, lying in bed with an arm draped over the chest of a man.

  Mahoney plunged his knife into the man's throat, a deep stab that penetrated all the way through his neck and into the pillow beneath his head. A spray of blood arched across the bedroom, covering the nightstand, floor, and walls.

  The disturbance roused Denise from her sleep, the warm spray of blood sticky on her face.

  She made to scream, but Dalton shoved his fingers down her throat and she gagged instead, the scream getting choked off by th
e bile rising from her stomach.

  "My sweet Denise," Mahoney said. He walked to her side of the bed. "You didn't think you were going to get away from me, now, did you?"

  A flood of tears rushed down her cheeks. She wanted to stop herself from crying. She knew this was the end. She had known this day would come. It was only a matter of time. Resignation of her fate had set in long ago, or so she had thought. Now that the day was upon her…

  She didn't want to die.

  She definitely didn't want to give him the satisfaction of her tears. He got off on that type of shit. Power. Dominance. And, that was the last thing she wanted to give him in her final moments. Denise willed herself to stop crying, to no avail.

  "Now, you have no idea how much I don't want to be here, doing this. You..." Mahoney shook his head. "Well, you were one of my favorites. May-be even my absolute favorite. You have no idea how much this pains me to have to do this."

  Dalton moved out of the way and Scott Mahoney took Denise Rankin's neck in his hands, started squeezing. He had to look away, avert his eyes. Denise… This was a hard one.

  He tenderly kissed her forehead.

  She scratched at his arms, kicked her legs. The comforter fell from the bed. Blurry with tears, her blue eyes pleaded for mercy until they stared into nothing.

  Once she'd stopped moving, he kissed her for the final time. On the lips. Then he just sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, his head hanging forward.

  Inhaled. Exhaled.

  Said, "Now, this has been one eventful night. Let's get the hell out of here, Dalton."

  Chapter 27

  Lisa refused to leave without her sister's body, so I called CG to bring a truck, since we rode out here on my bike.

  We got Lisa's sister loaded into the back, then I went to cover the other women with a layer of dirt. Didn't want to just leave them out in the open, exposed to the elements and scavenging animals. Didn't seem right. But morning was fast approaching and we needed to get going.

  Before leaving, I called and made arrangements with a local funeral home. When a man answered, I said, "This is Jon Dough. Sorry for calling so late. I need to come by and make some emergency arrangements."