Nurse Blood (The Organ Harvester Series Book 1)

by Rebecca Besser

  They’d all be long gone by then…in one way or another.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Sonya shut the door of the Housen house and then checked to make sure it was locked by trying to twist the knob and open it again. She smiled when she couldn’t, pulled a tissue from her pocket, and wiped down the shiny gold metal she’d just touched.

  She turned, surveyed the neighborhood, and proceeded to walk down the steps of the small porch. The idea was to give the appearance of someone who was supposed to be there and wasn’t worried about being seen, while at the same time not be noticed. She’d perfected the art over the years, and smoothly turned her head or knelt down to do something to her shoe whenever a car passed by; they would see her, but people wouldn’t get a good look at her face.

  Gradually she made her way to her car that was parked at the curb, and paused to examine one of her fingernails before opening the driver’s door and climbing in. She then waited fifteen seconds before she started her car and pulled out into the street. At the end of the street, she stopped at the stop sign and glanced in her rearview mirror.

  A car—a dark sedan with federal plates and a flashing light and siren—turned onto the street as soon as she’d turned right and started to drive away from the four-way stop.

  “Oh, shit,” Sonya whispered. “That was close.”

  Her heart was racing from the close call and she wanted to press the gas pedal to the floor and speed away, but she knew if she did so, it would draw attention she didn’t need.

  The drive to the building would take her another ten minutes, so she tried to calm her whirling thoughts and focus on the traffic around her. She was scared of getting in a wreck and getting caught by the police.

  ***

  McCoy and Croce didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. When they arrived at the Housen’s home they looked up and down the quiet street.

  “I don’t see anything strange,” Croce said. “Maybe we beat them here or this wasn’t their destination.”

  “Only one way to find out,” David said, climbing out of the car. He headed toward the front door of the Housen’s house and beat on the door with his fist.

  Croce stood at the end of the walkway with her hand on her service weapon, looking up and down the street.

  “No answer,” he said. “I don’t think they’re here.”

  “What should we do now?” Croce asked as he came back down the walkway from the house to stand beside her.

  He shrugged. “Let’s see if any of the neighbors saw anything. They might be able to tell us if anyone was here and maybe give us a license plate number if someone was.”

  Croce nodded. “Split up to cover more ground?”

  David nodded and headed to the house next door.

  ***

  Jennings was ready and waiting when Roger and Butch arrived.

  “That was faster than I expected,” he said to the two men as they carried in two small bodies; he glanced down at them. “Go ahead and get them ready—we’ll be starting as soon as Sonya arrives. You can unload the rest once we have these two prepped to start on.”

  The men nodded and began stripping the children of their clothes before hosing them down to make sure they were completely clean. They placed one of them on the surgical table in the tent and the other on a plastic covered table they’d set aside for that purpose—to keep a body ready so they could harvest them all quickly.

  After they did all they could, they went back outside to collect the rest of the unconscious people. They’d decided they would keep them in a small office off the main room of the building, where they could keep the door locked in case any of them woke up and tried to get away. It would be Butch’s job to man the door.

  They had everyone inside the building and Sonya still hadn’t arrived.

  “Where the hell is she?” Jennings wondered aloud, pacing back and forth in front of the main doorway. “If she doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to start by myself.”

  Roger and Butch said nothing. Roger was still on edge from Lloyd’s call, and Butch didn’t really care—he couldn’t stop thinking about how rich he would be after he was unleashed on a killing spree of his own later.

  ***

  Sonya sighed deeply—with relief—as she pulled up outside the building. They needed to get everything over with—fast. She was sure the FBI she’d seen pulling up outside the Housen house had figured out they’d kidnapped the family and were hot on her trail.

  “It’s about damn time!” Jennings all but screamed at her as she climbed out of her car after parking and cutting the engine. “I was about to start on my own.”

  She scowled and slammed her car door before marching straight up to the old man and getting in his face.

  “I got here as fast as I could, you bastard!” she yelled. “The fucking FBI was at the house just moments after I pulled away from the curb. If I would have sped away, they would have followed me.”

  He blinked a couple of times and took a step backwards.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t know. Why would they have gone to the house? How could they have known to look there?”

  “Lloyd called and told us to turn off our cell phones on the way there,” Roger said, standing from where he sat in the corner out of the way, and walking to the doorway where the two were arguing. “I think they were tracking one of our cell phones. We turned them off before we got there though.”

  “It could have been the cell phones, they could have broken Miles, or it was a lucky guess,” Sonya said with a shrug, still scowling. “It really doesn’t matter now, since we have the family and we aren’t going back to the house.”

  “We need to get this done and over with so we can get the hell out of here,” Jennings said.

  Roger nodded and watched Sonya.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly, before she too nodded.

  It was time to take care of business.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “Apparently the Housen family wasn’t that friendly with their neighbors,” Croce said, sighing as she walked back over to stand in front of the Housen’s house. “But the neighbors did notice a moving truck sitting in the yard a little while ago when they came out to get their morning paper.”

  “You would think if they were moving they would have come back for another load by now,” David said. He frowned and glanced up at the large Housen house as they walked back toward the car. He knew there was no way they could have moved everything for such a big house in one load, even if they’d rented a large moving truck.

  “I agree,” she said. “Maybe you should call and see if they’ve had any luck with the traffic cams.”

  He nodded and withdrew his phone from his pocket to make the call, and as he did so, it rang.

  “Hello?” he asked, and waited while the person on the other end spoke. “You found what?” His entire countenance changed in an instant—he was on high alert.

  “What?” Croce asked, sensing and seeing the change in him.

  He held the phone off his ear slightly and snapped, “Get in the car!” He rushed to do the same.

  ***

  Sonya and Jennings quickly got to work on the first child—the little boy with diabetes. They didn’t speak to each other while they worked, bleeding their victim and harvesting the organs; it took less time than they thought it would, since the body was drastically smaller than the ones they were used to handling.

  Roger took the leftovers and dumped them in the woods while they cleaned the table and equipment quickly. Butch brought over the next child for them to harvest—one of the female twins.

  “This is going good,” Jennings said as they began the second harvest. “If we can keep up this pace we’ll be done hours sooner than we’d planned.”

  Sonya nodded. “Yes. That would be great.” She wanted to get everything done and get the hell out of there. The FBI being so close was really freaking her out. She didn’t want to go to prison. She had plans
for her life with Lloyd. After all, they’d gone through the trouble of stealing Jennings’ money to make it possible, or rather, stealing back their money from him with interest.

  Jennings grunted, and they again got to work. This time it took longer because the girl was older and bigger.

  While they were pulling out bloody organs and bagging them, Butch retrieved Jan’s little brother from the holding room and prepped him for surgery; by the time he was done, Roger was back.

  “This is going pretty fast,” Butch said as he prepared to move the brother to the table as they finished up with the girl. “Should I call my contact and tell them I’ll have stuff for them sooner than planned?”

  Jennings glanced into the cooler and frowned.

  “That might not be a bad idea,” he said. “These need to be moved fast.” He looked at Sonya. “You’ll want to call Lloyd too. You might as well do it now before we start on this one, that way he’ll be on his way to pick things up.”

  Sonya nodded, turned away, pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and called Lloyd.

  “You’re giving all this to Lloyd?” Butch asked, motioning to the cooler that was almost two thirds of the way full with plastic bags containing various small organs—all coated with bright red blood.

  “Yes,” Jennings said. “He can take care of it while we harvest the other three—you can have them to sell. Now, get out of the tent so Sonya and I can get to work.”

  Sonya ended her call and turned back just as Butch was dismissed. She smiled slightly.

  “I don’t think he was pleased with that,” she muttered, and got ready to start on Hanson.

  “I really don’t care,” Jennings said.

  Sonya laughed, shook her head, and got to work.

  ***

  Lloyd got the call from Sonya he’d been waiting on and climbed into his car to drive away from the abandoned housing development. He had his laptop on in the passenger’s seat and he knew the moment Butch turned his cell phone back on.

  “What the fuck is he doing?” he muttered. “Doesn’t he ever fucking listen?”

  Driving at breakneck speed because he was pissed off and scared Butch would draw the feds to Sonya, he dialed Roger on his cell phone—there was no answer.

  Apparently Roger had taken the warning seriously, because his phone was still off. He hoped Roger would get Butch to turn his phone off again, but he knew it was too late. The signal had been sent and it was being traced.

  The building and team had been compromised.

  ***

  “Where are we headed?” Croce asked, buckling her seatbelt and starting the engine.

  David buckled up too and told her what was going on.

  “The cell phone trace has gone live again, across town. Limmon said to head east and he would text us the address where the phone is—its sitting still.”

  Neither of them said anything, not wanting to jinx things. They’d been close before and lost their targets. They hoped silently in their hearts that this time they would be able to get the sick bastards off the street and save lives.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Sonya and Jennings had just started on Hanson when Lloyd arrived.

  “Turn your fucking phone off, you stupid bastard!” he screamed at Butch as he came through the door, startling everyone.

  “Fuck you!” Butch hollered back in reaction.

  “The authorities are tracing it so they know where we are,” Lloyd snarled. “We all have to get out of here, now!”

  “What’s going on?” Roger asked, stepping inside the building as Lloyd made his announcement.

  Lloyd spun around and repeated that the authorities were tracing Butch’s phone.

  Roger frowned. “But we turned our phones off…”

  “Apparently, jackass, here,” Lloyd said, “turned his back on and left it on.”

  Jennings stepped out of the tent and was followed closely by Sonya, who paused for a second before coming out into the open.

  “How long has it been on?” Jennings asked. “Do you think we have time to finish this harvest,” he motioned back to the tent, “before we go?”

  Lloyd shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t really want to risk it though.” His eyes found Sonya’s and he could see the fear in their green depths—she wanted to get out of there as badly as he did.

  “I think we should try to finish…” Jennings said, and turned back toward the tent. “Come on, Sonya.”

  She didn’t move, just looked at Lloyd.

  “Sonya!” Jennings yelled, pausing to look back at her when she didn’t follow. “Help me finish this!”

  She tore her eyes away from Lloyd’s and shook her head at the old man.

  “No,” she said.

  “No?” he asked, shocked at her response. “What do you mean no?”

  “I said no because I’m leaving,” she said, taking a couple of steps toward Lloyd. “I don’t want to risk getting caught. We’ve harvested most of the children’s organs, so I think we should take them, get our money, and be glad we got that.”

  “We already started on this one,” Jennings snapped. “Are we supposed to let him go to waste?”

  Sonya shrugged. “It’s better than going to prison.”

  “I’m not staying either,” Roger said, stepping up beside Lloyd. “You can do whatever you want, but I’m not going to be here when the authorities arrive.”

  Lloyd looked at Roger and smiled.

  “Let’s get the stuff loaded then,” he said.

  “No!” Jennings yelled, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “If you don’t stay, you don’t get anything. I’m not letting you take the organs until we get this young man done!”

  Sonya sighed deeply and walked over to Jennings; she gently placed one hand on his shoulder and looked up at him.

  “You don’t have a choice,” she said, swiftly slicing across his throat with the blade of the scalpel she’d picked up off the tray in the surgical tent before coming out. Blood sprayed out of the wound and she swiftly stepped aside to avoid being drenched. The plan had originally been to kill him right after they’d finished harvesting the last of the Housen family and cash in on his organs too, but the new threat to their safety didn’t allow for his harvest.

  Jennings grabbed his throat with both hands and fell to the floor, bleeding out quickly.

  “Fuck!” Butch exclaimed, taking a couple steps forward, coming to a sudden stop a few feet from Jennings, and dragging his hands through his hair.

  “What, upset about your payday?” Lloyd asked.

  Roger sidestepped around to the other side of Butch when he spun to face Lloyd.

  “I’m going to kill you, you little weasel,” Butch snarled, stomping toward him.

  Before he reached Lloyd, Roger tapped Butch on the shoulder; the man glanced behind him for a second.

  Roger grinned broadly and slammed his fist into Butch’s face.

  Butch staggered and fell to his knees.

  Roger grabbed the back of Butch’s head and slammed his right knee into the man’s face, knocking him out. He dropped Butch to the floor.

  “Nice,” Lloyd said to Roger as he pulled out a knife and thrust it down into Butch’s torso, twice. He wanted to shoot the bastard, but he was scared the shots would attract attention. “Let’s get the stuff loaded and get out of here.”

  “Are you taking the van or your car?” Sonya called out as she headed for the door.

  “Both!” Lloyd hollered. “We’ll load up the van, so you need to back it over to the door—hurry.”

  He and Roger closed and lifted the cooler—one of them at each end.

  “This is all we’re taking,” Lloyd said, allowing his eyes to scan the area to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything of significant value. The skin and some of the other parts were on one of the surgical tables, but he didn’t want to take the time to bag and pack them in the cooler.

  “Fine by me,” Roger said, picking up on Lloyd’s anxious attit
ude. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  Just as they reached the door Sonya brought the van to a halt in front of it, throwing a light spray of what little gravel there was left on the lot; the men flinched slightly as the stones struck their exposed skin. She jumped out and ran to the back of the van and threw the doors open.

  “Should I wipe down the moving truck really quick?” she asked breathlessly.

  Roger shook his head. “I did that right after we unloaded the family. It should be good.”

  She nodded.

  Lloyd couldn’t help but smile at her actions. He loved that she knew what to do without being told—she was a professional.

  “I’m going to take my car and dump and burn it,” she said while they were loading the cooler. “Lloyd, call me when you’re done unloading the cargo and I’ll let you know where you can pick me up.” Without waiting for either of the men to reply, she dashed over to her car, climbed in, started it, and drove off.

  “Follow me,” Lloyd said to Roger as they shut the doors on the back of the van. He ran over to his car, climbed in, and started it in mere seconds.

  Roger rushed around, climbed into the van, and started the engine. As soon as Lloyd pulled out, he followed him down the long drive and out of the parking lot.

  ***

  Croce guided the car along the eroding drive to the building they’d been directed to—she wasn’t surprised to find vehicles parked in the parking lot. The fact that someone was there was a positive for them.

  “Someone’s here,” Croce said, pointing to two trucks parked close to the building—a pickup truck and a moving truck.

  David nodded. “Park behind them so they can’t leave before Jones and Limmon get here with backup.”