Callahan's Fate

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Raine made the first ten feet before Snake noticed. He yelled something and stumbled to his feet. With an unsteady gait, he started after her, but he moved very slowly. She started screaming for Callahan, calling his name, but he didn’t respond. Terrified, Raine stopped running and walked so she could catch her breath. Two pillars before the one where Callahan sat, she noticed he had been tied to it. Blood moved in a sluggish river from a gash on top of his head, and she stuck her fist in her mouth to keep from shrieking like a banshee. Please let him be alive, God, please. And get us out of here somehow. It would take a miracle.

  A few paces away from him, Snake caught up. He grabbed at her arm and she lashed out at him. When he drew back one arm, she cringed, but he slapped her hard across the face. Her skin stung from the blow and her head spun with the force of it. “Mistake, you stupid bitch, big time. You took too long—now I got my fix and I’m feelin’ fine. I been planning to make your pig fucker cop boyfriend and you pay for what he did to me, sent me to jail and killed my brother, and it’s time.”

  Her hand tightened around the gun as she reviewed everything her daddy ever taught her about firearms. Raine hadn’t shot in years and she thought she could, but she feared making another mistake. If she made a wrong move, Snake would end up with the gun, and that was the last thing she wanted.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked him.

  Snake laughed, and the sound echoed in the quiet subterranean chamber. It was the most evil, awful sound she had ever heard. “First, bitch, I’m going to wake up the cop, then I’m going to fuck you till I make you come screaming, teach you what a real man can do. And he’s gonna watch. I’m gonna hurt you and I’m going to slice you up a little, just enough to drive him out of his head. It’s payback. Then I’m going to kill him, real slow, and make you watch. Afterward, I’ll kill you, unless you impress me enough I want to keep you for a pet. If that happens, then you’re mine and I’ll use you till you’re done. Sound like fun?”

  Raine took a few steps back out of his reach. She knelt down beside Callahan and groped for his wrist, which proved difficult with his hands tied behind his back. She managed to wiggle two fingers in place, but she found his pulse, light and too fast. Her tight chest eased and she breathed again. The urge to weep almost overcame her desire to remain stoic, but she managed.

  “Callahan,” she said. Her tone came out sharp but he didn’t stir.

  “Get away from him,” Snake told her. “Get outta the way.”

  “No.”

  “Fuckin’ piece of shit bitch,” he mumbled. He walked over to a backpack resting against one wall and pulled out a bottle of water. Then he opened it and splashed the contents into Callahan’s face. His nose twitched and his mouth hardened into a taut line. A deep moan came from deep within.

  “Wake up, pig,” Snake shouted. “It’s time to party.”

  From where she crouched, left and behind Callahan, Raine watched his fingers curl, then flex. “Callahan,” she whispered in a voice harsh with urgency.

  She shifted position so she could watch his face. His nostrils flared and his eyes opened to narrow slits. “Raine, what the fuck happened?”

  His voice sounded puny. Before she parted her lips to answer, Snake leaned down wearing a grotesque grin. “I happened, motherfucker,” he said. “Payday is here.”

  Cal’s mouth worked, and then he spit in Snake’s face. The man yelled and stood up with a wordless shout and wiped the saliva away. “Big mistake,” he said. “You’re gonna die, cop.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The single word emerged clear and loud. Callahan’s body tensed, then he kicked his left leg up with enough force to knock the knife from Snake’s hand. It clattered to the cement, and before he managed to retrieve it, Raine held it in her hand. She didn’t remember moving or planning to grab it, but she had.

  “Bitch, give it to me,” Snake said. “Now.”

  Raine hesitated, then shook her head.

  He growled at her, as threatening as any animal, and lunged toward her. Callahan brought his other foot up in a swift kick that landed in Snake’s crotch. Snake made a low, terrible noise and doubled over.

  Callahan groaned, then said, “Cut me loose.”

  Her fingers gripped the knife’s handle tight as she sawed at the bright yellow braided nylon rope with effort. It wasn’t easy but she managed to cut through it, and when she did, Callahan pulled his hands free. He reached out to grasp her hand in his. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, but you’re not.”

  His grin was weak but present. “I’ve been better, yeah. Give me the knife, baby.”

  She glanced at Snake, still bent over moaning. “I can do better than that,” she told him and produced the pistol from inside her coat.

  With effort, his fingers gripped the butt of the .32. “That’s Pop’s,” he said. “Where the hell did you get it? He give it to you?”

  “No, I took it just in case.”

  As Raine watched, he broke it open and nodded. “It’s loaded. Later, we gotta talk about this, doll. You shouldn’t have had this, but I’m damn glad you did.”

  Snake straightened upright, face pale but his eyes glittered with rage and drugs. “You’re both gonna die now,” he said. He gasped for air as he spoke, then pulled another knife from within his jacket.

  “Not today, asshole,” Callahan said. Still sitting against the pillar, he raised the pistol and fired. The first shot hit Snake’s shoulder and he staggered on impact and slowed, but he didn’t stop. He moved toward them, knife ready, and Cal shot him again, this time through the knee. Snake screamed and went down, clutching his wounded leg.

  “You fuckin’ shot me!” Snake sounded outraged.

  “Next time, I’ll kill you,” Callahan replied. His voice diminished and lost volume as he slumped forward.

  Raine put her arm around him. “Callahan, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m about to pass out,” he told her. “Take the gun.”

  Hands trembling, she took it as Snake, despite his wounds, dragged himself toward her, knife in hand. Raine shook harder than leaves blown by autumn winds, but she lifted the pistol and aimed it. Long ago, at her grandparents’ farm, she’d learned to shoot with the boys, everything from black powder vintage rifles to shotguns and pistols. Raine locked in on the memory and held it. You can do this. You know you can, just like Daddy taught you.

  Snake lunged forward and threw the knife. It cartwheeled through the air with deadly purpose, and against all odds it landed and drove deep into Callahan’s thigh and lodged there. Blood gushed from the wound, and without thinking, without planning, Raine shot Snake in the right eye. It exploded into a mass of goo and gore, and he put both hands over his face, keening with a high-pitched wail.

  Raine barely heard it. Her focus was Callahan. On the good side, he wasn’t unconscious as he stared up, face contorted with pain. She’d never seen anyone as pale as blood flowed from the wound. Should she remove the knife or staunch the blood? Did he need a tourniquet, and could she remember how to do one if he did? Flashbacks from mandatory staff in-service first aid training floated through her head. She reviewed the steps and realized if she didn’t do it soon, Callahan might bleed to death.

  “You’re…a helluva…shot,” he told her in a slow, labored voice. “Love you, doll.”

  “I love you, too, Callahan. Hush, so I can stop the bleeding and get us out of here. You need to be in a hospital.”

  “If I don’t...”

  She didn’t want to hear any dark possibilities so she interrupted. “Shut up, Callahan.”

  Working as fast as she could, Raine removed the knife. Blood fountained from the wound, and she used the knife to cut his trousers away from the deep cut. She used the material to press against it but it did little to stop the blood flow. Raine used her scarf as a makeshift tourniquet, and when the flood slowed to a trickle, she sighed with relief. She glanced at him, and her concern notched higher.

  Although he
still sat against the pillar, his stark white face contrasted with his dark hair. His breath sounded too fast and shallow to Raine, but he tried to offer her a smile. It faltered on his lips and became a grimace.

  “I’ve got the bleeding almost stopped,” she said. “How do you feel?”

  “I hurt,” Callahan replied. “Plus, I’m weak, dizzy, kinda sick.”

  His symptoms confirmed what she’d feared—he must be in shock. Treatment options popped into her head and she said, “Let me help you lie down flat. It’ll help. Are you cold?”

  Callahan shivered. “Yeah, I’m freezing.”

  Raine maneuvered him prone and held his hand. In hers, his flesh was cool and clammy. Worried more than ever, she stripped off her coat and put it over him. He flashed a faint grin.

  In a voice weaker than used dishwater, he said, “Thanks, baby. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “I’m fine.” Her face ached where Snake slapped her and she thought it might bruise, but she hadn’t suffered any real damage. “Do you have other injuries besides being stabbed and hit over the head?”

  “I think one of my ribs is cracked,” he said. Raine had to lean down and struggle to hear him. “The bastard kicked me damn hard. He cut my back, but not bad. Probably…got…a concussion, too.”

  His labored breathing concerned Raine. Callahan clutched at her coat with one hand and held hers tight with the other. If memory served, shock could be dangerous. Major organs, including the heart and lungs could shut down or be damaged. Or he could die. No matter what, she had to get help and soon.

  After weeks of gnawing fear, Raine was no longer afraid of Snake Marsh. Whether dead or out of commission, he wasn’t a problem and would never be again. Worry about Callahan’s deteriorating condition overrode any lingering fears. She wanted to bawl like a spanked toddler or curl up in a ball and do nothing, but she couldn’t. Whether or not they got off the abandoned subway platform and got medical care for Callahan rested on her shoulders.

  She pulled herself together and shifted into quiet calm. Raine managed to detach her emotions from the situation and try to think about what to do. Although she didn’t want to leave him, she might have to, and she tried to figure out just how Snake brought her here.

  “Raine?” Callahan whispered. “I can’t see very well.”

  He’s either about to pass out or die, and I don’t know what to do about either one.

  Raine tried to pray but her lips refused to form the words, and as she resisted an urge to weep, she heard voices and footsteps. Someone was coming, and she hoped it wasn’t Snake’s friends. If it was, they were so screwed.

  “Hold on, honey,” she said to Callahan. “It’s going to be all right. I love you too much to let you go.”

  His eyes rolled back, then shut as he fainted. Raine watched, hoping a lie wouldn’t be the last thing she ever said to the man she loved.

  Chapter Seventeen

  He’d been preoccupied, and his distraction cost Callahan. After a routine shift, he finished his paperwork and headed toward the subway, feet jubilant enough to almost dance. He whistled a merry tune as he hurried to catch the next train, eager to get home to Raine. Despite his earlier misgivings, Callahan anticipated a wonderful night out with his woman. Engaged in a mental debate whether to take her out for a nice meal at one of the restaurants near Times Square and the Broadway district or grab something quick, he failed to notice Snake Marsh was in the same car until it’d left the station.

  Crowded with commuters, the train had standing room only. Callahan hung onto a strap near the front of the car while Snake stood near the exit door. He stared at Callahan with burning eyes, his expression intent and his eyes bright with evil purpose. Still in uniform, his service revolver on his hip, Callahan wished he could shoot the bastard and be done with it. But he couldn’t. Without a reason, he couldn’t even wound him without stirring up so much bullshit, that his career might suffer.

  Callahan pulled out his phone to text Raine to make sure she was all right, but he couldn’t get a signal in the tunnels. He’d have to wait until his stop. At each one, people got on, others got off the train, but Snake remained.

  At Thirty-Fourth Street, Callahan’s intended stop, he remained, watching Snake. When he exited the car at the Forty-Second Street station, Callahan followed. He kept the man’s skanky ponytail in sight and was so focused, he didn’t realize until too late that Snake didn’t head for the stairs and the exit. He walked behind the stairs and down where the tracks narrowed into the deeper shadows. What the hell am I doing?

  Callahan almost turned around and knew if he didn’t, he’d be late. Raine would wonder what took so long, but Callahan couldn’t let Snake go. If he did, like a venomous viper, he’d bite.

  “Hey,” Callahan shouted. “Snake Marsh, stop right there.”

  He halted, and for a few sweet moments, Callahan thought he had him. He could make the arrest and end this. They’d be able to enjoy their night out, and the danger would be all but gone. Then Snake turned and the light caught the blade in his left hand. Callahan proceeded, wary but not afraid, until Marsh lifted his other hand. Raine’s purse, or one identical to it, dangled from his fingers.

  “Yeah, it’s hers, pig fucker,” Snake said. “And if you want to see her alive again, you’d better come with me. Or I can stab you through the heart right now and be done with it. Whaddya say?”

  What could he? A hunch said it wasn’t hers, but Callahan couldn’t be certain and he wouldn’t take any chances, not with Raine. “All right,” he replied. “Let’s go.”

  “Do exactly what I tell you, cop,” Marsh told him. “Start walking.”

  Snake gave him step by step directions, and Callahan followed. When he told him to go through a service doorway, he balked. “I’m not going down there.”

  “Wrong answer, motherfucker,” Snake said. A sudden, sharp pain spiraled through Callahan’s lower back as Marsh cut him. “Move.”

  Shoved through the doorway, Callahan raised his fists to fight, and Snake walloped him over the head with what appeared to be a wrench. His head whirled as his vision dimmed except for a scatter of bright light. Some guy might call them stars, but not Callahan. He knew they meant he was about to pass out and he did as Snake kicked him in the side, hard enough to steal his breath away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Next thing he knew, he hurt like hell. His head seemed ready to explode with intense pain, and the gash where Snake cut him burned like fire. Callahan blinked his eyes open and tasted blood as it dripped from his head. He tried to wipe it away and couldn’t. His hands were tied behind his back. When he looked down at his body, he noticed his weapon, his baton, radio, and everything else had been removed. He could tell from the absence of weight around his neck that his shield was gone, too. Where in the hell am I?

  Callahan roused enough to look around. He saw the dim platform, the peeling ceiling, the empty track, and realized he must be at an abandoned level, probably still at Forty-Second Street. He knew of several abandoned stations and had broken up parties at more than one. This platform, famous for being used during the filming of that movie Ghost a long time ago, hadn’t been used in years.

  He struggled to free his hands and failed. Snake Marsh wasn’t visible, and he wondered where in the hell he’d gone. A sickening fear that he’d gone after Raine began in the pit of his stomach and expanded through his body. He’d made a mistake and let Snake gain the advantage. If the bastard hurt Raine, he’d tear him apart—if he lived. For all I know, she could already be dead.

  His headache grew worse by the minute. Callahan lost track of time as he tried to break loose, but all he accomplished was burning up energy he needed. After what seemed like a long damn time, he gave up and slumped over, head down, worn out. He thought he drifted in and out of consciousness but he couldn’t be sure.

  When he came to, Snake Marsh leaned close and shouted in his face. Callahan drew a ragged breath, and his heart almost stopped. He caught a
whiff of Raine’s perfume and when he squinted, he caught a glimpse of her at his left side, behind. His mind refused to work right, and everything happened fast. He heard and saw through a barrier, as if he drifted underwater, but he spoke to Raine and she answered. So far, she seemed to be in better shape than he was. Callahan hoped he wasn’t dreaming.

  With effort, he rallied enough to kick a wicked sharp knife from Snake’s hand. Later, he knew he probably wouldn’t remember much of this, but for now Callahan remained aware he ended up with a pistol in his hands. He fired twice, unable to aim well when he was so woozy, and the part he thought he would always remember was when Raine shot Snake through the eyeball.

  After that, everything became muddled. He had trouble breathing and couldn’t think. A new sharp pain in his thigh hurt more than the other injuries. Speaking became difficult but he made the effort for her. Callahan thought maybe he might be dying. Raine shushed him, and he thought she tried to tend his hurts but he wasn’t sure. Nothing made much sense and he shivered with cold. He wanted to get up, to hold her tight, and take her out of this terrible place but couldn’t even move. When his eyes dimmed, he figured he’d see his brothers soon, but he couldn’t fight anymore. His strength had ebbed, and he had no energy left to fight.

  He heard voices and wondered whose they might be. The last thing he remembered besides Raine holding his hand tight was the sound of footsteps, which surprised him. He’d always figured angels traveled with their wings, not their feet.

  ****

  Someone was shrieking like a banshee, and the sound hurt his ears. Callahan tried to tune it out but failed. He wanted to open his eyes but they felt heavy, and he couldn’t seem to make them work. His ear, however, seemed to be working well, unless the voice he heard was only in his head.