I’ll bet, she thinks to herself, the man who invented those tools never in a million years believed they would end up being tool of torture. No way, it takes a sicko like Gunnar to imagine something like that!
Gunnar (the Suicide Kings President) kneels down in front of Kayla so as to bring his eyes level to her own. Hi picks up a nasty looking drill bit and fiddles with it in his hands as he begins talking.
“So Miss Underwood, I’m sure you can imagine what some of these things here can be used for, but if you’re not sure, feel free to ask Kurt here. I’m sure he will be quite happy to describe each tools unique purpose.”
With each passing second Kayla’s resolve begins to weaken and her terror gains a stronger foothold in her mind. She clamps her mouth even tighter as her stomach begins to sicken with fear. Then it occurs to her. Who cares if she gets sick? It will be a pleasure to vomit in Gunnar’s ugly face.
“So where shall we sta—”
Kayla begins to vomit. The first spasm of her stomach unleashes a torrent that splatters all over Gunnar’s motorcycle boots. Suddenly the room is cloaked in deadly silence as Gunnar takes a step back from her. Too bad it didn’t land in his face Kayla thinks to herself. The Kings president gives her a single evil look before he goes around behind Kayla and walks away. She hears his footsteps as he leaves, then she hears the door as it opens and closes.
Is he really not coming back? She thinks to herself.
Not a single word is whispered around her, and none of the four people left in the building even so much as shifts their feet. A few minutes later Kayla hears the door open and close behind her. She listens as the footsteps come closer and closer to her. Still, no one says a word. When Gunnar comes around in front of her again he has changed his boots to a pair of brown work boots.
When he finally does talk his voice is laced with venom and gives Kayla the chills. It’s like his voice just reaches down into her soul and chokes the life out of her. She has heard evil before. She has heard anger and menacing before, but nothing like the pure malicious, malevolent, and terrifying voice that is addressing her now. She can even see the effect he is having on his fellow brothers as they actually take a step back away from him.
“I suppose you think that was a clever thing to do Miss Underwood, but let me assure you, there is nothing you could have done that would have put yourself in a worse position than what you just did. I don’t often personally involve myself when it comes to torture. I usually am content to let Kurt have his fun but today I am going to give you my full attention.”
Kayla keeps her mouth shut, now wishing fervently that she hadn't just puked on the sadistic leader of the most powerful outlaw biker club in all of California.
“I’m not sure you really appreciate the gravity of your situation Miss Underwood, so I have asked Kurt to put together a special video for you to watch. After you’ve seen this I think you will have a better grasp of the situation here.”
Kurt pulls a laptop computer from his backpack and fires it up. Kayla waits anxiously, wondering how watching a video could possibly make her feel any worse. The video begins with a blacked out screen. For the first ten seconds that’s all there is; no sound no picture, just a black screen. Then the screaming begins. It’s so loud, so horrific that Kayla as well as one or two of the brothers actually jump a little.
The sound is so intense and heart wrenching that she almost cannot believe it’s real. The screams go on for maybe two or three minutes before they stop. Well, not completely stop. There’s a soft mewling that continues unabated until the picture changes and the black screen disappears and is replaced by video of the woman screaming. A burly biker is holding her chair while another holds her arm extended in front of her. A third biker approaches her with a pair of pruning shears. The moment the girl’s eyes lock on the shears she begins screaming again in earnest.
For a second Kayla thinks that this is the most the girl is able to put out, but when those shears sever her right pinkie finger, she really let loose. This time her screams are a series of rapid staccato-like shrieks. She gulps a huge breath of air each time and releases it in the form of a scream. The girl does this about a dozen times or more before finally passing out.
Kurt shuts the laptop. If Kayla thought she was afraid before, it’s nothing compared to what she’s feeling at this moment. She could not have imagined anyone in such agony as that woman was, and knowing that pretty soon she’s going to be feeling similar pain; well it’s just too much to take on. Before the video Kayla could take a little comfort from her mind as she kept telling herself it can’t be that bad and if it gets bad she’ll just pass out. But that video made it crystal clear in Kayla’s mind just how horrifically terrible her torture sessions are going to be. There’s no escaping that simple fact. Now Kurt produces a compact DVD player and sets it on the floor well away from Kayla.
“You may have trouble going to sleep tonight,” Luke’s father begins. “So I have, with a little help from Kurt, recorded a mix tape for you to listen tonight.”
While he’s talking Kurt brings out a pair of three inch square speakers and plugs them into the player.
“And I think you will appreciate the sound quality of these speakers.” Gunnar drones on. “At first I thought, two hundred dollars, you gotta be kidding! Then I listened to them and I was a believer just like I am sure you will be. So if you will excuse me I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Regrets
The sun is nearing its apex when Luke finally pulls off the road and stops at the edge of a viewpoint overlooking Stinson Beach, California. It’s a ballsy move on his part, not only returning to the San Francisco bay area, but coming back to him and Kayla’s favourite place to ride. If his father had any of the military training he had, he would have someone watching all Luke’s favourite haunts. What Luke does not know is that his father is more than a little preoccupied with his newest captive Kayla Underwood. At this very moment he is preparing to participate in unspeakable acts of torture and revenge on the woman Luke loves.
Yeah, it took murdering his best friend then walking away and leaving his girlfriend dying from a gunshot wound to the head for him to realize the depth and breadth of his feelings for her. A normal person would have figured out that what they had was beyond special. Luke Madsen, former Army Ranger/Special Forces/Sapper/Sniper is not your normal human being; not by a long shot. Years of military training and years of being the US Government’s top hired gun, has rendered Luke incapable of feeling. That’s before Kayla got under his skin. She got more than just under his skin, she managed to burrow her way into what is left of his soul and now is seems he just cannot function without her.
When he fled her house that night, nearly one year ago he believed her dead. He’d heard the shot, seen her go down, and he even saw the hole just above her eye. He had knelt in the warm sticky blood as it pooled around her head and kissed her goodbye. For Luke it was the kiss of death. He leapt blindly into a world he despised all his life; the world of illicit drugs. In Afghanistan he’d personally been responsible for taking out some of the Taliban’s biggest players in the heroin trade; something he was immensely proud of. It’s a cruel world in that less than a dozen years later it would have Luke standing on street corners, wandering down piss filled alleys, and squatting on roach filled mattresses slamming that same dirty brown drug into his veins just to escape his own tortured mind.
Two weeks have passed since Luke fled the roach motel and the dead hooker. Fourteen days since he’d discovered the cryptic note saying Kayla survived the gunshot to the head. One last time he crawled into a filthy motel room and spent the next two weeks screaming in agony and puking his guts out kicking a $300 dollar a day heroin habit. Probably his only saving grace was that he had only been using for 9 months or so and he was in great physical shape before he began using the drug. Those two factors enabled him to bounce back much faster than your typical addict. It was hell though. No d
oubt about that.
He shed all the excess weight he had gained as a couch potato before a prostitute had turned him onto heroin. Now Luke is back to his fighting weight, and at six foot two and one hundred ninety pounds he is back to his formidable self and looking for a fight; but first things first. Before he goes after his father for gunning down Kayla, he first has to find her. She too seems to have disappeared. He passed by her house yesterday and something just didn’t sit right with him.
When you’ve been in the business of war and violence for as long as Luke has, you develop a really strong sixth sense. When he visited her house the hackles on the back of his neck stood at attention. Something wasn't right. Late that night he’d decided to go in and see if he could find anything. By all appearances, she hadn’t been home for a couple days. He was just about to leave when he noticed something odd.
There was a picture in the hallway leading to the front door. It’s not the contents of the picture that caught his eye, but the position it was in. From what he knows of Kayla she is fastidious when it comes to her house and she wouldn’t dream of walking out the door unless everything was in order. The picture is one of her and a group of people in Yosemite. The picture was crooked. It wasn’t obviously crooked, but to someone with a trained eye, it was definitely cockeyed. He touched it with his index finger and straightened it before leaving out the back door. There was something very disturbing about her house and that picture. He was almost willing to chalk it all up to paranoia but then passed by her work only to find that she has missed her last three shifts and people there are quite concerned.
How to find her? All he knows is she is alive, at least she was two weeks ago and that’s not much to go on. He’s just about to start his bike back up and finish the ride when his cell phone rings. Lately he hasn’t been in the habit of answering his phone. The longer people think he’s dead the easier it is to stay hidden. For some reason though, this time he finally answers it.
“What?” He barks into the phone.
“He’s got her.” An unfamiliar voice replies.
“Who’s got who?” Luke replies, but deep down he knows what the caller is about to say.
“Your father and his goons took her two days ago and believe me; she ain’t got much time left. Your old man is out for revenge. He wants you and he thinks she knows where you are and he’ll skin her alive if he thinks she’s holding out on him.”
“Where’s h-he g-got her?” Luke’s voice is shaking with rage.
“Remember the old quarry.”
“Aren’t the Harbingers still using that as a lab site or something?” Luke asks, confused.
“Yeah…Luke, your father has been teaming up with some of the Harbingers and they’ve got your girl in what used to be their meth lab.”
“Fuck, fuck…fuck! I can’t believe he’s teaming up with those filthy bastards,” Luke swears.
“You can’t Luke? Who helped your father set up that ambush for you and your buddy Carter? It’s not all the Harbingers who are helping him though. Some of those fuckers actually got principles. It’s not all the Kings who are behind your father either Luke; some of us still know the meaning of the word honor.”
“Well let’s bust her out then.” Luke replies.
“I’ll need a couple hours to get the guys together then I’ll call you with a time and place to meet. This ain’t gonna be easy Luke so you’ll have to ignore your instincts that are tellin’ ya to just charge over there right now, guns blazing. That’ll get you killed and her as well. We do it my way Luke.”
“I’ll be waiting for your call. Oh…and I’m gonna need a piece. I’m fresh out right now.”
“No problem, what do you want?” The other man asks.
“You got any of those Glocks lying around?” Luke asks.
“Yeah I think so…what do you want, the 17 or the 19.” He asks.
“The 19’s for pussies, I’ll take the 17.”
“Alright...later bro.”
Luke remains motionless on his bike for a few more minutes and slowly numb and bewildered. Finally he is about to be reunited with the woman he loves and for all he knows, she’s not going to be happy to see him.
Guess I Better keep her away from sharp objects for a while until she calms down.” He mutters to himself as he slams his motorcycle helmet down over his head.
No matter how you slice it, this is not going to be the proverbial happy reunion. He starts to close his eyes, and then catches himself. Every time his eyes close, he’s treated to a graphic slide show as the events of their last night together unfold on the backs of his eyelids. But it’s worse than his real life memory of the events. It’s like his memory is some poorly shot black and white movie; in the days before sound. When he closes his eyes now, he’s literally assaulted with a 3D, Dolby Surround Sound, digitally enhanced, living color cinematic masterpiece. It’s a lot to take in.
Sitting on his motorcycle Luke recalls that night walking down her sidewalk to certain death at the hands of his father and his father’s most loyal Kings. He can smell the crisp cool autumn air and feel the wind tussle with his long hair. Then he hears an audible crack and like magic he sees a lone bullet crease the air as its shot from the barrel of a gun at 1,220 feet per second. It leaves an angry red streak across his cheek as it passes by. Luke spins around just in time to see the projectile striking Kayla in the head just above her right eye. Her head barely registers the impact of the 9mm round. In fact she just stands there in her doorway for a moment, unmoving. Luke’s eyes lock with hers. He can see her blue eyes glisten in the dim light and he watches as they go from a vibrant, icy blue to a pale slate grey as her life is extinguished right in front of him. Luke lets out a cry of anguish as her legs buckle and she drops to her knees on the hardwood floor. She wavers for a second and then tumbles over backwards and her head strikes the floor with a hollow thud.
Luke pretends to faint as he lets his head roll forward and his knees buckle. His captors are caught off guard by his reaction. Annoyed, the guards let him slide out of their grip and to the cement. Rather than grabbing him again they content themselves on just kicking his ribs and stepping on his fingers. Neither of them is prepared for what happens next. With a backwards motion of his leg he sweeps one guard completely off his feet. The other guard tries to leap over Luke’s leg but is caught as Luke sweeps his leg forwards. Both men fall in a heap next to Luke.
He yanks a Sig Sauer 9mm from the hands of one guard and rolls up to his feet and sprints for Kayla’s door like a frightened Gazelle before either guard can react. Luke dives through the door way as bullets whistle past his ears. He kicks the door closed, fully expecting to feel the hot bite of lead, before he’s finally safe.
Lying flat on the floor Luke rolls over and comes face to face with Kayla. Already sticky warm blood is pooling around her head. He looks into her dull greyish blue eyes but no one looks back at him. She is gone. Kayla just may be the only woman Luke has ever loved and she’s stolen from him before he has the chance to tell her. Hot tears fall on her lovely face as the heavy thud of a booted foot crashes against her front door. Luke leans over, places his lips on her forehead and he gives her a chaste kiss goodbye.
Another boot smashes against the door causing it to shudder and shake. Luke gets too his feet. He figures he has maybe five seconds before it gives way. Luke runs down the hall to her bedroom where he remembers there is a trapdoor to her attic that can be reached from her walk in closet.
Fortunately for him Kayla’s neatness extends to her attic as well and Luke has no problem navigating his way over to a small window with roof access. Seconds later he’s kicking out the window and crawling out onto the roof. Sirens fill the night. Luke slides down the roof to her gutter where he flips over onto his belly then carefully slips over the edge of the gutter where he hangs for a moment, looking around him. He takes a deep breath, then let’s go and falls about a dozen feet to the grass below. The landing is harder than Luke expects and he goes down i
n a painful heap. Swearing under his breath Luke disappears into the night.
Luke shakes his head and opens his eyes and he’s back on his motorcycle on Highway One overlooking Stinson Beach. That was not too bad as far as flashbacks go, but it was vivid. It seems his life is becoming just one long series of poor choices and unfortunate events and it all started when his father survived the attack on him the day he was released from Folsom Prison.
Luke pulls out back on the highway and decides to risk going back home. After all this time he really doesn’t think his father will still be watching his house. He’ll go there and wait for the next call to action. He just hopes Kayla doesn’t have to pay too dearly for the delay in rescuing her.
Chapter twenty-two
The Show
Psychological torture, while not physically painful can be equally terrifying. For twelve uninterrupted hours Kayla is forced to listen to the agonizing screams of the woman in the video. The 90 minute DVD just keeps repeating itself over and over again leaving Kayla trying any number of ways to block out the sounds, including doing some of her own shrieking; anything to blot out the woman’s tortured screams.
The woman’s terrified, agonizing cries shoot through her brain like that bullet that nearly killed her last year. Each vocalization from the dying woman hits Kayla with unbelievable force and she cannot help but imagine which instrument of torture elicits the sounds she is listening too. For hours on end Kayla’s mind dissects every noise the woman makes as she tries to match it up with one of the tools lying on the floor at her feet. What will determine what tool they use on her? She saw a movie once where kidnappers made the victim choose the instrument they would be tortured with.
Edge of Chaos Page 13
