by Jeff Strand
My arms and legs were completely stiff. I couldn’t even move my fingers… those that were left.
The back door of the limousine opened.
Troll’s grin vanished as the occupant stepped out and walked around the front of the car. He was a tall, well-built man in his forties, wearing an immaculate grey suit.
He did not look happy.
Chapter Fifteen
THE MAN STROKED his thin, black goatee and looked first at me, and then at the wrecked truck. “Do they have any weapons?” he asked Goblin.
“The guy in the truck has a gun,” Goblin said. “But I can explain-”
“And you will. Surprised it was me and not a new set of victims, were you? I heard some very interesting things over your walkie-talkie chatter. Medusa, retrieve the gun.”
The woman in red nodded and walked to the truck.
The man regarded me with distaste. “He looks pathetic.”
“Yeah,” said Goblin, attempting a smile. “We took care of him pretty well.”
“You took care of nothing!” the man said, pointing an accusing finger at Goblin. “Where are Ghoul and Ogre?”
Goblin was silent for a moment. “They’re… I mean, you’ve already heard, right?”
“I want to hear it directly from your mouth.”
“They’re dead.”
“And who killed them?” The man gestured to me. “Him?”
Goblin shook his head. “His wife.”
“Oh, his wife, was it? Well, at least you took care of the problem. Please, direct me to her corpse so I can spit on it.”
“Mr. Burke-”
“I’m ‘Sir’ to you right now.”
“Sir, it wasn’t our fault.”
“Oh, I’m glad to hear that. I can only assume the hand of God Himself reached down and pulled her to safety.”
Medusa handed the gun she’d taken from Roger to Mr. Burke.
“This is one of yours,” he said, glancing down at the weapon.
“Yes, sir.”
“Have we decided to start arming our victims? Is that it?”
“No, sir.”
“Let me explain something to you, Goblin. I do not like being forced to micromanage what you are doing out here. When I am forced to leave my lab to clean up your messes, it wastes my time and causes me to become extremely annoyed. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“From what I understand of this ill-fated project, there were six people in the camper you ambushed. How many of them did you bring to me?”
Goblin was silent.
“How many?”
“None.”
“How many of their corpses did you bring to me?”
“None.”
“And how many of them were young, helpless children?”
“Sir, I-”
“Answer the question.”
“Two.”
“Two young children. And yet through your incompetence, your staff has now been reduced by forty percent. I don’t like that kind of attrition, Goblin.”
“I’m sorry.”
“In fact, there’s very little I do like at this moment. I’m terminating this branch of the project, effective immediately.”
Goblin didn’t bother to protest.
I desperately tried to make my body work… any part of it… but I remained a human statue.
Mr. Burke furrowed his brow. “Is that Ghoul’s body?” he asked, pointing at the corpse by the side of the road.
“Uh, no,” Goblin admitted. “It’s Charlie.”
“They killed Charlie, too?”
Goblin started to nod, but then apparently thought better of the lie. “No, sir, we did.”
“We?”
“Troll and I.”
Troll shifted uncomfortably.
“You murdered one of our accomplices?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Would it be terribly inconvenient if I asked you why?”
“He wouldn’t shut up.”
“I see. He did like to ramble on. So essentially, you’re telling me that under your management, excessive talking is an infraction punishable by death, correct?”
“Sir, we weren’t thinking straight.”
“That doesn’t matter. As a good manager, I have no doubt you accept full responsibility for your actions. And you’re telling me you consider excessive talking a fatal offense, correct? One worth terminating a member of your own team?”
“He wasn’t really part of the team.”
“A vendor, then. You’d terminate a vendor for excessive talking. That does leave me to wonder about the appropriate punishment for a manager who screwed up a project so badly it left two of his associates dead and none of his goals achieved.”
Now Goblin seemed close to tears. “Sir, please, I’ll go after the woman and children myself. I’ll personally bring them to you, I swear.”
“And you’ll bring Ghoul, Ogre, and Charlie back to life?”
Goblin seemed unsure how to respond.
“How about just Ogre? If you’ll bring Ogre back from the dead, perhaps I’ll show you some mercy.”
“Sir, I can’t-”
“I don’t like to hear the word ‘can’t,’ Goblin. You know that.”
“Just give me one more chance.”
“I don’t think so. Consider yourself downsized.”
Medusa swiftly removed the dart gun from her purse and fired a shot into Goblin’s neck. He dropped to the ground.
Mr. Burke crouched down next to Goblin. “Enjoy the lack of sensation while you can. I am going to make you hurt so badly, you’ll wish your mother had been skinned alive by your father before they had a chance to conceive you.”
Troll looked terrified. Mr. Burke stood up and glared at him. “I’m not going to hold you responsible for the incompetence of your supervisor,” he said. “But understand me, if you screw up again, you will not find the pain pleasurable.”
“Yes, sir,” said Troll, visibly relieved.
Witch walked into my line of sight, legs wobbling a bit. “Sir, I am so very sorry.”
“I’m not impressed by apologies,” said Mr. Burke. “And I’m particularly unimpressed by employees who are kidnapped by their own prey. I’ll decide your fate within the next two minutes.”
Witch lowered her eyes and nodded.
“Now, let’s see about tying up some of our loose ends, shall we?” Mr. Burke unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt, turned a dial, and then pressed the black button on the side. “Is anybody there?”
“Who is this?” I heard Helen say.
“This is Officer Trevor Clemens from the Georgia State Patrol. We’ve managed to subdue the assailants who attacked you and your family, but your husband has been very badly injured. Could you give us your location?”
“What happened to him?” Helen sounded frantic.
“He’s been cut. He’s been cut bad, ma’am. We can’t move him until the ambulance gets here. Are you near the road?”
“I’m… I’m not sure,” Helen admitted.
“Are you lost?”
“I think so.”
“That’s not a problem, ma’am. We’ll get you out of there. Do me a big favor and give us a shout, okay?”
A moment of silence.
I wanted to scream for her to remain quiet, but I couldn’t move my lips.
“Let me talk to him,” Helen said.
“Ma’am, he’s unconscious and losing blood fast. I’m not trying to scare you, and I promise we’re doing everything we can, but he may not have much time left.”
“Shout out to me,” said Helen. “I’ll follow your voice.”
Mr. Burke lowered the walkie-talkie. “Helloooooooooo!” he shouted. He lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth again. “Did you hear that?”
“No. God, we must have gotten turned around somehow.”
Mr. Burke reached down and picked up Goblin’s gun. He fired it into the air. “What about that?”
“Yes, I he
ard it.”
“Are we close?”
“No, but that helped. I know which direction to go at least.”
“Then hurry. Get here as quickly as you can. We’ll send a search party after you if you’re not here by the time reinforcements arrive.”
He released the button on the walkie-talkie, and then turned to Troll. “I assume your truck is still in working condition?”
Troll nodded.
“Did you suddenly turn into a mute?”
“No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. The truck works, sir.”
“Then put everybody in the back. Including your ex-supervisor.”
“Yes, sir.”
Troll put his hands underneath Goblin’s arms and dragged him toward the truck. He seemed very pleased to be doing it.
Mr. Burke knelt down next to me. “Creepy, isn’t it? Not being able to move like that? I tested it out on myself once and it freaked me out.”
“Oh, shit!” Troll exclaimed as he reached the truck.
“What?”
“The signal just went off. Somebody’s coming. Same direction that you came.”
“Busy little road today. But that’s fine. Without incompetent management running the show, we should be able to take care of them without much effort. Medusa, Witch, I want our three test subjects propped up against the truck,” Mr. Burke said. “Based on what they’ve seen so far, they probably think we’re all bumbling idiots, a joke. I want them to see very clearly that we are no joke.”
Medusa and Witch dragged me to the truck. I was unable to feel a thing as I slid over the dirt.
Within a couple of minutes, Roger and Samantha were sitting next to me.
I had to do something to save the people who were coming, but what? I couldn’t even wiggle a toe.
It seemed like hours before the car, a small white sedan, arrived. It stopped behind the limousine.
Mr. Burke walked over to them. “Hi there,” he said, as the driver rolled down his window. “We’ve had a bit of bad luck and I was wondering if we could get your assistance.”
“Of course,” said the driver, a cheerful-looking blonde guy in his late thirties. He was badly sunburnt and wearing sunglasses. “What’s the problem?”
“Car trouble.”
“Oh, man, that’s always miserable. This is, like, our first vacation without a flat tire or running out of gas or something like that.” The driver grinned. “We probably cursed you. Sweet limo you’ve got there, though.”
Don’t get out of your car don’t get out of your car please don’t get out of your car.
The blonde guy opened his car door and got out.
“Right over here,” said Mr. Burke, leading him past the limousine. Two more doors opened on the sedan, and a beautiful woman, probably the guy’s wife, got out, along with their son, who looked eleven or twelve.
Please no…
The blonde guy frowned and removed his sunglasses as he saw Roger, Samantha and I propped up against the truck. We had to look like zombies, or at least stoned out of our minds.
“What happened to them?” he asked.
“Shock,” said Mr. Burke. “As you can see, there was a terrible accident. We tried to call the police, but we seem to be having trouble with our cell phone.”
The blonde guy was joined by his wife and son. “We’ve got one in the car. Alex, why don’t you go grab it?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Mr. Burke said. “I’d just like to give you a brief preamble, if I may. What you’re going to see in a moment will frighten you very badly, and if you scream, you will die. So don’t scream.”
Medusa casually pointed Goblin’s gun at the family. The mother gasped but didn’t scream.
“Excellent. You’re off to a good start. Two of my associates will see that the noise and struggling are kept to a minimum, so please cooperate.”
Witch and Troll quickly bound each of the family members’ hands with duct tape. They also covered the woman and boy’s mouth. After they were done, Mr. Burke nodded his approval and walked to the family. “What’s your name?” he asked the blond guy.
“Jim,” he softly replied.
“Full name, please.”
“Jim Kenyon.”
“James, correct?”
“Yes. James Kenyon.”
“And is this your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Her name?”
“Heather.”
“Pleased to meet you, Heather. And this must be your son. His name is Alex, right?”
“Yes,” said James, his voice quivering.
“Was Alex born in wedlock?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Heather, Alex, please drop to your knees.”
Heather and Alex, both crying and shaking with fear, did as they were told.
I focused every possible bit of mental energy I possessed on trying to move my body. A finger. A lip. Anything.
“Heather looks like a fine woman, James,” said Mr. Burke. “Is everything working out? No problems in your marriage?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Burke chuckled. “I apologize. That wasn’t a very well-phrased question. Are there any problems in your marriage?”
“No.”
“Good, good. How about with young Alex there? Is he doing well in school?”
“Yes.”
“Is he into sports? He looks like he’d be into sports.”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“Basketball.”
“Really? He seems short for that. I would have thought baseball or soccer. Does he get a lot of game time or does he spend most of it on the bench?”
“He plays.”
“Very impressive. You look like a nice, happy family. You’re a very lucky man, James, to have such a wonderful wife and son. That does bring up the important question, though: Which of them do you like better?”
“What?”
“I’m not going to beat around the bush here, James. One of them is going to die within the next minute or so. You’re going to make the choice.”
Move, damn it, move!
I could beat whatever had been in the dart. Mind over matter. I’d break free of this paralyzing drug. I focused so hard it felt like my brain was going to burst inside my skull.
“Now, before you speak, I know exactly what you’re going to say. You’re going to ask me to kill you instead. I hate that. I’m sick of it. If you try to be a martyr, I’ll kill both of them. If you don’t make the choice in a timely fashion, I’ll kill both of them. My hope is that you won’t be the type of coward who would let both his wife and child die because he couldn’t make a simple decision.”
“Please don’t do this,” said the man in a soft, scared voice.
“It will be a bullet to the back of the head, execution-style. Painless, as far as I know, not having been through that experience myself. Which one dies, James? Heather or Alex? Make the choice.”
“I can’t…”
Move move move!
“Make the choice, James. Be a man.”
Heather and Alex both sobbed.
“Five seconds until they both die. And you’re going to be really disappointed if you think I’m bluffing.”
James let out a whimper, and choked out the word: “Her.”
“Her?”
James nodded, tears gushing down his face.
“Her meaning Heather? You want me to execute Heather instead of Alex?”
Heather let out a muffled wail.
James nodded.
“Say it,” Mr. Burke told him.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Say ‘I want you to kill my wife, Heather.’”
“No!”
“You were man enough to make the choice, James. Don’t fuck it up because you won’t speak the words.”
My finger moved. I swore my finger moved.
“I… I want you to… I want you to…”
“It’s not that difficult, James.”
If I could move a finger, I could move my whole body. I could tackle that sadistic son of a bitch and rip his heart out of his chest.
“Say it, James, or they both die!”
“I want you to kill Heather!”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Mr. Burke grinned and motioned to Medusa.
She shoved the barrel of her gun against the back of Alex’s head, not Heather’s…
I can break free of this I can break free I can I can I can!
…and pulled the trigger.
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t even blink.
The twelve year-old boy pitched forward onto the dirt.
“Do you see what we did, James?” asked Mr. Burke. “We killed your son instead. Now you get to spend the rest of your life with poor Heather knowing you didn’t pick her. You think there’ll be problems in the marriage now, James?”
Troll laughed.
James didn’t respond. His eyes looked dead.
Mr. Burke raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth and pressed the button. “Did you hear that shot?” he asked.
“Yes, it still sounds pretty far,” Helen told him, “but we’re moving as fast as we can.”
“Very good.” He lowered the walkie-talkie and stroked his goatee. “I’m not a completely inhuman gentleman, James. I know that what you must be feeling now is a million times worse than any physical agony I could inflict upon you. So, I’m going to show you some mercy. Instead of making you live with your choice, I’m going to finish both of you off in an excruciatingly painful manner. Sound good?”
“Can I do it?” asked Troll, holding up his hunting knife.
Mr. Burke considered that. “Yes, but you only get five minutes to do both of them.”
“Mind if I slit his throat and spend the rest of the time with her?”
Mr. Burke nodded. “That’s fine. But slit his throat at the end so he can watch.”
“I can do that.”
“Tape his mouth. Let’s avoid noise pollution as much as possible.”
Troll turned toward me, smiled, and waved his knife in front of my face. “Watch how creative I can be.”
I watched it all, screaming at my body to move.
Mr. Burke was feeling generous and gave Troll an extra minute.
Chapter Sixteen
