by CJ Bishop
The cowboy halted the other men as they were about to mount him upon the cross. “Human being?” the cowboy drawled. “We wouldn’t do this to another human being. When you fuckers decided it was okay to rape and abuse children…you forfeited the right to be called human. You are nothing but filthy, vile beasts who feast on the innocent of this world. And it is on us—the hunters—to put you down.” He nodded at his companions. “Crucify him.”
The large middle-eastern man took point this time and was given the “honor” of nailing Olson to the cross while the cowboy helped the other men hold him in place. When they stepped back to inspect their handiwork, Olson flopped against the wooden beam, gasping as his heavy body sank downward, causing his air to cut off. He cried out and shoved against the spike in his feet, forcing himself up just enough to catch his breath.
“Not much fun, is it?” the cowboy muttered. “Imagine going through this for someone…then having them spit on you, curse your name, and throw your sacrifice back in your face like it ain’t worth shit.”
The vision of the two men hanging up there like literal sacrifices fucked with Barron’s mind. This couldn’t be real. It fucking couldn’t.
“We’ve saved the place of honor just for you.” The cowboy walked over and sank to his heels. “The one with the most sin to atone for.”
Like Olson, Barron’s survival instinct went into overdrive when the men grabbed him. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve been paralyzed with the pain racking his body, yet it took a backseat to his panic and terror as he was hauled toward the middle cross. And as with Olson, all the struggling and fighting did him no good. There were too many men stronger than him.
The cowboy reclaimed possession of the hammer and stepped up on the chair. He looked at Barron, green eyes cold as ice—and spit in his face. He didn’t say a word as he ground the tip of the homemade spike into Barron’s palm, gouging the skin. For a moment, Barron thought he was going to dig it through his hand without the aid of the hammer. That thought was eradicated when the hammer swung viciously, and sent the spike through his palm, nailing him to the beam.
“Fuck!” Barron jerked and strained against the men’s iron grip. “Motherfuckers! Guuhh!”
Dismounting the chair, the cowboy moved it to the other side and climbed up again. He caught Barron’s flailing arm and clutched his broken wrist, slamming his hand to the beam. He was given another spike and drove it in, busting through the small bones in Barron’s hand, and splintered the wood.
When the cowboy was on the floor again, Barron’s feet were forced against the beam—one on top of the other—his busted ankles screaming along with him as the cowboy completed the crucifixion by pounding the final spike through Barron’s feet.
Barron looked down at them as his head fell forward, the barbed-wire crown clamped to his skull like the jaws of some hellish creature. Strings of bloody spittle hung from his parted lips and the pain in his body was beyond what he’d thought any human being could endure.
You forfeited the right to be called human.
In the faces of the men below, he saw no mercy nor remorse for what they had done here today. And on the other side of the veil that separated this life from the next—a veil that had suddenly become very thin—there would be no mercy waiting for him there, either. Of this, he was positive.
Chapter 28
Jacob laid down carefully on the bed, trying not to wake Eric, and watched the other boy sleep. The relaxed, serene expression on Eric’s face wasn’t something Jacob was used to. In their other life, even while asleep, none of them were relaxed or felt safe. Jacob slid his fingers through Eric’s soft hair. He didn’t know what he’d do if someone tried to split them up, send them to different families. He wouldn’t let that happen. Jacob didn’t want to run away, though; the streets terrified him now.
A soft knock on the door drew his attention from Eric’s face. Nina peered into the room. “Can I come in?”
Jacob nodded.
She entered and quietly closed the door. She sat on the end of the bed and looked at Eric. “He looks so peaceful,” she whispered and turned her stare on Jacob. “You really love him, don’t you?”
Jacob smiled small. “Yeah, I do.”
“Did you know that…” She didn’t finish.
“Know what?”
“That I…I like girls?”
Jacob had had his suspicions, but it had been hard to determine these things in the life they’d been living before now. “You do?”
She nodded. “At first, I thought it was because of the things men did to me. I thought that’s why I didn’t like boys that way. But I don’t think it is the reason.”
“I don’t think circumstances determine if a person is gay or not,” Jacob said. “I think we’re just born this way. You would’ve liked girls even if you’d never been hurt by men.”
Nina lowered her eyes and nodded. “I believe you.” She was quiet a long moment. “I thought…I thought if I just stopped thinking about her, all these feelings would go away. I didn’t think I would ever see her again, and it hurt too much to know that.”
“Who?” Jacob leaned forward curiously.
Raising her eyes, Nina whispered, “Kelly.” She ducked her head. “Do you think…do you think she was still at the orphanage when the cowboy got there?” She bit her lip, tears forming. “What if she was gone? Or…dead?” Nina hugged her stomach and trembled with a sob.
“Hey.” Jacob crawled to the end of the bed and hugged her. “Maybe she was still there. It was only six months ago that we left.”
“I want her to be okay,” Nina cried softly against his shoulder. “And Raimi…he was so young. What if they were taken away from each other? Kelly was all he had. He wouldn’t make it without her.” Her sobs strengthened. “I can’t stand the thought of him being out in this world with those men…all alone.”
Jacob let out a shaky breath; he didn’t want to think about it either. “We don’t know anything yet. We have to wait until the cowboy comes back. Until then, try not to worry yourself sick.”
Nina raised her head and wiped her eyes. “You’re lucky,” she whispered. “You’re lucky that you and Eric got to stay together.”
“I know.” It was more than luck, Jacob thought. It was a miracle.
•♦•
“Kelly?”
Stirring on the bed, Kelly slowly opened her eyes. Where was she? For a moment, she started to panic that Raimi wasn’t in her arms, then she remembered; they were at the hospital. Dr. Grant had let her take a nap in one of the vacant beds. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Savannah stood next to the bed with Dr. Grant. Kelly’ stomach immediately clenched. “Raimi?”
“He’s out of surgery,” Dr. Grant said as a comforting smile formed. “And he’s doing well. He’ll have to stay here for another week or two, but he’s out of the woods. Because he’s so undernourished, his recovery will be slow, but he will get better.”
Relief flooded Kelly and she broke into tears. Savannah hugged her, and she clung to the other girl.
“You can see him for a few minutes,” Dr. Grant said. “He isn’t awake, but if you want to look in on him, it’s all right.”
Kelly straightened up and grabbed a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped her face. “I do,” she said thickly. “I want to see him.”
“I can take her,” Savannah said.
Kelly crawled off the bed. “Where’s Axel?”
“He’s talking to the detective.”
“Detective?” Kelly frowned.
Dr. Grant explained about the other kids being brought in. “The detective is in contact with the FBI task force that handles child sex traffickers. He asked that the kids be brought straight to the hospital for immediate care.”
“Are they all going to be okay?” Kelly asked with concern. Some of the kids had been almost as sick as Raimi.
“We’re hopeful,” Dr. Grant said. “I haven’t been in to see them, but they’re all being take
n care of.” He smiled. “Don’t worry about them. You just focus on yourself and Raimi for now. You need to get healthy, too.”
“I know.”
Dr. Grant touched Savannah’s cheek. “You’re looking a little pale yourself, sweetheart. You be sure and get plenty of rest as well, all right?”
Kelly glanced back and forth between them. The shadow of worry in the man’s eyes alerted Kelly that maybe there was more to his concerns than he was saying.
“I will,” Savannah assured, suddenly nervous. “Don’t worry. I feel fine.”
“That’s good.” Dr. Grant kissed her on the brow. “I want you to stay that way.”
When he left, Savannah moved toward the door. “I’ll show you to Raimi’s room.”
“Why was he worried about you?” Kelly asked as they entered the corridor. “Are you okay?”
Savannah smiled and shrugged. “Yeah. I just have a weak immune system,” she said. “I think it’s because of the time Abel and I spent on the streets after we ran away from the orphanage. I’m not sure.” Her evasive eyes betrayed her lie. Whatever was wrong…she didn’t feel comfortable talking about it, so Kelly let it go.
•♦•
The three men were left hanging on the wall while Clint and the others moved the kids’ bodies from the living room to Cruz’ SUV. All except Grace. They gently laid the other children in the very back of the vehicle and closed the rear door.
They returned inside, and Clint entered the living room—empty but for Grace who remained wrapped in his jacket and lying on the loveseat. Clint called Detective Jordan. When the cop answered, he explained about the kids and asked where to take them.
“The morgue,” Jordan said after a moment of heavy silence. His voice had a thick rasp in it when he spoke. He gave Clint the address. “The coroner is a friend of mine. He’ll be discreet.”
“How are the kids?” Clint asked.
“The doctors and nurses are taking care of them,” Jordan said. “I’ll speak to them later and try to get their names. Maybe some of them have families out there looking for them.”
Clint hesitated, then said, “One of the…deceased kids…her name was Grace. She was abducted from her family. You need to find her parents.”
“Any chance you know her last name?”
“No. But one of the boys who came into the hospital, he was a friend of hers. His name is Luke. He might know.”
“All right. I’ll be sure and talk to him, see what I can find out. How soon will you be bringing the bodies to us?”
Clint rubbed his mouth and rested his arm on the mantle, the low-burning flames warming his legs. “Soon. We should be leaving within thirty minutes, and then another hour to get to the city.” Clint released a long breath and laid his head on his arm. “Is Axel nearby?”
“He’s right here. Do you want to speak with him?”
“Yes.” Clint closed his eyes and waited. When Axel spoke through the phone, Clint’s throat pinched closed and he couldn’t speak.
“Clint?” Deep concern resonated in his voice. “Baby, are you okay?”
Clint swallowed and cleared his throat then raised his head. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “We’re going to bring the bodies to the morgue. The detective is going to meet us there. I want you there, too.”
“All right.”
Moving away from the fireplace, Clint walked over to the loveseat and sat down.
“Clint…” Axel spoke low, soft. “Rodriguez told me about the little girl.” Tears crept into his voice. “I’m so sorry.”
Clint blinked and ran his hand over Grace’s head.
“I spoke to the boy. Luke. He…” Axel’s words trembled. “He told me what happened…what she said.”
His head sinking down, Clint continued to stroke the child’s hair. “Be at the morgue when I get there?” he whispered.
“I will,” Axel promised.
Clint wiped away a rogue tear. “I would be lost without you.”
“Then you’ll never be lost,” Axel said softly. “Because you’ll never be without me.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.”
Clint lowered the phone and stared at Grace a moment, then stood and picked her up. Cruz stood in the doorway watching him and moved back to let him pass through. Rather than take Grace out to the SUV, he walked on into the main room and stood before the three men on the crosses. The cook sagged limply, head dropped forward, and looked dead. Olson and Barron were still breathing; Barron having a harder time as he tried to hold himself up with his broken ankles. He managed brief intervals, catching quick breaths before he dropped down again, cutting off his air.
Clint kept his jacket tucked around Grace’s fragile body and held her deep in his arms. “Take a last look at the magnitude of your sins,” he told the two men. “And remember, for the rest of eternity, why you’re burning in hell.” He stared at the two condemned sinners and told his men, “Break their legs.”
Without hesitation, Cruz grabbed the silver-spiked Morningstar they’d brought from the guestroom and advanced on the men. Cochise was a simple man and snatched up the prybar.
Clint watched with a deadpan expression as the Morningstar ripped through Barron’s knees, shattering bone and kneecaps. Barron gasped sharply and dropped a fraction, the weight of his body pulling against his arms, cutting off his air.
Cochise took out Olson, crushing his legs with the iron bar. One final scream burst from the man before his breath cut out and he began to suffocate as he sagged heavily against the beam. The Egyptian looked up at the men as he walked over to Clint. “It won’t take long. They’ll be dead in minutes.”
“This one looks dead,” Cruz said, indicating the cook. “Want me to do him anyway? Just in case?”
Clint nodded, and the deed was done.
When the other two men took their final breaths, Clint looked down at Grace, then softly kissed her head. “Rest in peace now, angel.”
•♦•
Axel found Devlin who took him to Raimi’s room. Kelly sat beside her brother’s bed and held his little hand. On the way to the room, Devlin had informed Axel that the boy would be okay.
Kelly turned around when Axel and Devlin entered the room. Savannah stood by the window and looked their way, then came over.
“I’m glad your brother will be all right,” Axel said sincerely. “I just wanted to let you know I have to leave for a little while. Clint is bringing the kids’ bodies in and he wants me to meet him at the morgue with the detective.”
Mention of the dead children crumpled Kelly’s face.
Axel hesitated. “One…one of the kids in the back room…” he swallowed thickly. “She was still alive.”
“What?” Kelly stared at him in shock. “How…?”
“I don’t know,” Axel whispered, and tears burned his eyes. “Clint found her when he was moving the others. Her name was Grace.”
“Grace?” Kelly’s chin trembled. “Barron put her back there days ago. How could she still be…?”
Axel shook his head. His throat worked, and words shook when he told them, “She died in Clint’s arms.”
“Oh, my God.” Savannah covered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes.
“Sweet Jesus,” Devlin murmured shakily. “Is he all right?”
His vision swimming, Axel fought to keep it together. “I don’t think so.”
Chapter 29
After placing Grace in the SUV with the other children, Clint returned inside and walked over to the crosses. Using the dead men’s blood, he wrote words on the wall, then went into the kitchen where he shed his outer shirt and washed the blood off his hands and arms. His Wranglers had only minimal blood spackles, and he let it go; it wasn’t like the detective didn’t know what they’d been doing out here.
“We’re done here,” Clint told the men and headed outside. He caught a ride with Cochise while Cruz and Sanchez took
the SUV. The rest of the men piled into the other two vehicles and followed behind.
Little was spoken between Clint and the Egyptian during the one-hour drive. It wasn’t uncommon for them to remain silent while in a car, but today that silence felt heavy.
When they crossed the city limits, Cochise followed the SUV as it headed for the morgue which was located on First Avenue near 32ndStreet, just beneath the pavement of the city’s East side. Clint called Axel and let him know they would be arriving in ten to fifteen minutes.
Though it was barely into mid-afternoon, it felt much later to Clint. He was ready to go home and crawl into bed with Axel and stay there for a week. Lock the world outside and forget for a while the horrors that lived out there.
“Do you think I’m losing my shit?” he asked abruptly.
Cochise kept his eyes straight ahead, maneuvering the city streets and staying within a few yards of the SUV. “No.”
Clint looked out the side window. “I could be.”
“You’re not.”
“This world is fucked up,” he mumbled hollowly.
“Yeah,” Cochise murmured. “That’s why it needs us.”
Clint turned his way. “What?”
“We deal with the shit the way it needs to be dealt with. We aren’t bound by the law or conscience.”
Frowning, Clint said, “When we went after Adrian’s brother, you were having issues with the things we had to do.”
Cochise nodded. “What I said then was true. What we do doesn’t coincide with a domestic lifestyle.”
Clint disagreed. “I think we need the domestic lifestyle to keep us…sane.”
“We didn’t need it before.”
“And how sane were we then?”
“Sane enough.”
“You think so?” Clint asked. “Do you remember what we did to Samuel’s stepdad? The one who raped Caleb?”
Cochise chuffed. “We cut off his dick. So, what? We do that to all rapists.”
