by Sharon Sala
Charlie stood a few moments, watching the baby latch on and start nursing. The soft shadows thrown by the lamplight fell across mother and child, and for a few moments Charlie felt as if he’d stood this way before, maybe in another lifetime, watching this very same scene, and with the same overwhelming feeling of witnessing a miracle. Being a part of creating new life made him humble, and made everything he did for them worthwhile.
“I’m going to the kitchen. Want anything to drink?” he asked. “Maybe some water?”
“I’m good, darling, but thank you for asking.”
Charlie blew her a kiss and then left the bedroom, feeling the cool tiles beneath his bare feet as he moved from room to room.
He couldn’t help but think of what Jack must be going through. The last thing he’d heard, they had no leads on Ito, which didn’t bode well for Shelly McCann. For all they knew, she may already be dead. But there were search crews still going through property listings. Hopefully they’d know something positive by morning.
* * *
Shelly woke up peeing the bed and still unable to move.
There was a moment of pure embarrassment, and then she remembered where she was and why. In the grand scheme of things, a wet bed meant nothing.
She tried to open her eyes, but they were too swollen.
“Help!” she cried, but the word came out like a whisper. Her mouth was so dry and her lips so puffy it felt like they might explode.
Would those men come back? Or had she been left here to die?
“Water, please, I need water,” she begged, but no one answered. She had no idea how long she’d been passed out.
She heard the scurry of tiny feet again and knew now it was the rats. The horror of being eaten alive by them was real and she started crying.
“Please, God, don’t let this be the way I die. I am asking You to help Jack find me before it’s too late.”
Then she heard the tiny feet again, scratching, climbing, gnawing. And there was another smell now that hadn’t been here before. The smell of death.
That was when she remembered the high-pitched animal scream from last night. Something had died in here. But what was big enough to kill rats, that wouldn’t try to kill her, too? The answer was too horrifying to consider.
Then she felt something against her leg, moving down toward her ankle.
“No, oh my God, no,” Shelly moaned. “Please don’t let this be real. Don’t let this be real.”
Then something bit her, then bit again, then tried to tear away flesh. Her ankle was on fire, and she was screaming, screaming, screaming. Kicking and jerking, begging and crying.
* * *
In the morning, Adam’s behavior toward his brother seemed more congenial. They shared breakfast in a good mood and then headed back to the warehouse in comfortable silence.
“Adam, do you think she is alive?” Yuki asked, as they drove toward Houston Hobby Airport.
“I don’t know, and if she’s not, then she’s not.”
“We should not have left her alone last night,” Yuki added.
Adam laughed. “I have no intention of babysitting someone to keep them alive when I fully intend for her to die anyway. If last night alone in the office didn’t kill her, maybe it scared up new information. And if she still tells me the same story, I’ll kill her myself.”
Yuki looked away.
When they reached the warehouse, Adam gave the code to Yuki to open the doors. Yuki exited the air-conditioned car into the sweltering Houston heat and punched in the code, then stood aside for Adam to drive through.
He heard her screaming even before the doors were open, and the sound curdled the food he’d just eaten. Without waiting for Adam to drive through, Yuki took off running to the old office at the far end of the warehouse and entered to the sight of rats scurrying out of sight. The woman was bleeding from rat bites on her ankles, and she was in true hysterics. What was left of a dead rat was scattered among the opened snacks on the table that Adam brought last night. He didn’t know what to say or how to soothe her.
And then Adam pulled up in the car and got out running.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
Yuki pointed at her ankles.
“Rats were all over her.” Then he pointed at the table. “And something killed a rat here last night.”
Adam grabbed another bottle of water and poured all of it on her face and head. She couldn’t breathe without choking, which stopped the screaming. Exactly what Adam had intended.
“I came to talk to you again, Shelly McCann.”
She turned her head toward the sound of his voice.
“Drink...need drink,” she said.
“Not until we talk.”
She turned her head away.
“Where’s your husband?”
Her silence angered him. He pinched her breast again to get her attention.
“Drink of water,” she whispered.
“If I give you a drink, will you talk to me?” Adam asked.
She turned her head back toward the sound of his voice.
Adam pointed to the case of bottled water. “Would you please give this woman a drink?”
Yuki nodded, relieved that the shouting and beatings weren’t happening. He opened a fresh bottle and lifted her head. Shelly drank greedily, choking more than once, desperate to get as much in her before he withheld it again.
“Now then. I did you a favor. You do one for me,” Adam said. “Where’s your husband?”
“Dead.”
He opened his fist and slapped her. It would hurt, but it wouldn’t knock her out.
“You lie.”
Shelly’s mouth was bleeding again. She was crying, but making no sound, and the whole side of her face felt like it was on fire.
“What if he really is?” Yuki asked.
Adam glared at him and, to prove he was the one in charge, slapped her other cheek.
Shelly moaned, turned her head enough to spit out the blood in her mouth.
“Tell me the truth and I’ll stop hurting you,” Adam said.
“I wouldn’t tell you if he was alive,” Shelly mumbled. “Beat me until my heart stops.”
Adam stood up in a rage. This wasn’t going the way he wanted. But after what she’d just said, it made him think McCann was alive. And if he was alive, she needed to be, too.
“Maybe you need to spend another day with the rats. I do not like liars, but apparently these vermin aren’t so choosy. You think about it. I may be back later, and I may not.”
Then he poured the rest of the bottle in her face and walked out.
Yuki was in a panic. He didn’t want to leave her alone with the rats. Now that he’d seen what they did, he didn’t think she’d still be alive when they came back.
“Adam, I will stay with her,” Yuki said.
Adam stopped, then turned around, staring at his brother in disbelief.
“Look around you!” he shouted. “It is disgusting! You would stay here in this mess with her, rather than go with me?”
“I don’t want to stay here, but this mess is yours, not hers. I would not want to live knowing I had let a person die from rat bites.”
Adam’s face flushed a dark angry red. “What makes you think I’ll come back for you?”
Yuki shrugged. “If you don’t, then I’ll just call the police and save the both of us.”
Adam reached behind his back to get his gun, but it wasn’t there.
“Looking for this?” Yuki asked, holding up his brother’s weapon.
Adam froze. “Give it back,” he said.
“You’ll get it when you come back for me,” Yuki said.
Adam started to charge him, and Yuki calmly pointed the weapon at his brother’s head.
“Don’t try me. I ha
ve a strong sense of self-preservation. I would choose me over you every time.”
Adam stopped, then held up his hands.
“Sorry. Lost my cool again. I’ll be back around noon. You have water. I’ll bring fresh food.”
Yuki shrugged. “If you’re late, then know I’ve already called for medical attention for her and turned myself in.”
Adam backed away slowly, shaking his head. “You are a coward. You aren’t tough enough to be a leader.”
“And yet I’m the one with the gun,” Yuki said. “Stop insulting me and go fuck yourself. That will take the edge off.”
Adam couldn’t have been more shocked if Yuki had bitch-slapped him where he stood. He got back in the car and left.
Yuki didn’t relax until the doors swung shut, and even then, he ran up front to make sure he saw Adam driving away, before he went back to the office and felt the woman’s pulse.
She was still alive.
He wasn’t ready to completely defy Adam, but last night he’d dreamed of being chased by rats. Seeing the truth of what happened when dream became reality had been too much. The least he could do was make sure she wasn’t eaten alive.
He wanted to remove all the guts and garbage but had nowhere to put it. But he could get it out from under their noses, so he picked the table up and threw it through the openings where the windows used to be. The water was here. He had a chair in which to sit, but not in these clothes, so he started removing clothing again, beginning with his shirt. He started to remove the undershirt, too, then left it on—not so much for propriety, but to catch the sweat.
He saw the package of paper towels, unwrapped it and tore off a few sheets and then folded them up, soaked them with water and laid them on her forehead, then poured a little bit between her lips.
“Don’t die, lady. I don’t want you on my conscience.”
* * *
Jack had ridden the streets of Houston all night, even when it was raining, chasing down the addresses on the list, then searching the premises of each one for signs of habitation. There were a few that were being used as legitimate businesses, and short of setting off security alarms, he was going to have to leave those to the police. He swung by his place long enough to shower and get into dry clothes before going back out again. He put his phone on the charger and started a pot of coffee before going to shower. Less than an hour later, he was ready to pick up where he left off.
He took his phone off the charger, dropped it in the outer pocket of his jacket and put his Glock in the shoulder holster. He was on the way down to get the motorcycle when his cell phone rang. It was Charlie.
“Hey, Jack! I’m on my way to the office and just got a call from Fred. One of the search crews thinks they’ve got a lead. They are on their way to a property on the east side of the city. Two stoners were spending the night in an empty building and said they heard a woman crying but couldn’t find her. They called it in, and the cops are already on the scene looking. I’ll let you know if we find her.”
“I’m already on the move. What’s the address?”
Charlie told him.
“I’ll meet you there,” Jack said, and accelerated. It was their first break in the search.
Twelve
It took Jack almost forty minutes before he rolled up on the search in progress and saw both the Houston PD and the FBI were on the scene. When he realized it was an abandoned hotel, the scope of the search just got bigger. He parked in front of one of the Bureau’s SUVs and flashed his badge at a couple of officers standing guard at the entrance.
“Who’s in charge?” he asked.
“You guys are,” the officer said. “Special Agent Warren is in the lobby.”
“Thanks,” Jack said, and saw Nolan Warren almost immediately.
Nolan looked up, saw the stranger coming toward him and frowned.
“You’re not allowed to—”
“Nolan, it’s me, Jack.”
Nolan did a double take. “Whoa! I did not see you in that face.”
“That is the idea,” Jack said. “What do you know? How many floors in this building?”
“Fifteen floors, six hundred and twenty-five rooms. They’re less than halfway done.”
“I want to help. Where can I start?”
“Feds started at the top and are working their way down. PD began at the bottom and are working their way up. We’re on the twelfth floor. I’ll radio them to let you know—”
Before he finished what he was saying, one of the search teams suddenly checked in.
“Search to Command Post. Come in!”
“This is Command. Go ahead.”
“We found a woman on eight. She’s too old and she’s homeless, so she’s not your missing woman, but she’s ambulatory and we’re coming down.”
“Ten-four. Command out,” Nolan said, and then looked at Jack. “Dammit. I’m sorry. I was so hoping this—”
Jack was too disappointed to comment. He just turned around and walked out of the building, got back on the Indian and took off for the next address on the list. He kept telling himself it didn’t mean she was gone. It just meant she was somewhere else.
And so the morning went. Jack rode from property to property, marking them off after he’d searched, and moving to the next, and the shorter the list became, the more desperate he felt.
Noon came and went, and the heat continued to rise. He kept bottles of water in his pack, and around 3:00 p.m., he finally stopped long enough to get something to eat.
The food was tasteless and every bite stuck in his throat. He finally gave up, threw the rest of it away and got back on the Indian. He put on the helmet and fired up the engine.
Fear rode behind him.
Panic sat on his shoulders.
But quitting wasn’t an option.
“Don’t give up on me, baby. I haven’t given up on you.”
* * *
Adam came back to the old warehouse with food at straight-up noon. Yuki heard the car circling the building and grimaced. Just like his brother to leave him guessing. He got here on time, but not a moment early.
He glanced at the woman as he stood up. The hotter it got, the weaker she had become. Despite the water he had poured down her throat and on her, she’d passed out almost two hours ago and he hadn’t been able to rouse her since. He was afraid for her. Adam would kill her if she didn’t tell him what he wanted to know, or she would die anyway before he got the chance. He watched the car coming into the warehouse and Adam getting out to shut the door behind him.
When Adam realized Yuki was watching him, he stopped in midstep and stared back, expecting Yuki to be the one to look away first. But he didn’t move.
Adam got back in the car, aimed the car right at the office and stomped the accelerator. The SUV fishtailed, leaving rubber on the concrete floor as he raced toward them.
Yuki’s heart began to pound. What was this crazy man trying to do—kill them? What would he gain if they were dead? He wanted to run, but something told him that showing fear was exactly what Adam wanted to see, and so he stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, calmly watching the event unfold.
Adam was aimed straight at his brother and expecting him to panic, to run, or at the least get out of the way. But he didn’t, and Adam was forced to turn away at the very last moments, which sent his car into a spin. He hit the brakes, leaving dark stripes on the concrete floor and the scent of burning rubber in the air.
When the car finally quit spinning, Adam got out with a sack of burgers and cold beers and stomped toward the office. It took everything he had not to throw the food at Yuki.
“Why didn’t you move?” Adam shouted.
Yuki made himself look surprised. “What? Move? You mean you were actually going to run me over?”
Adam sighed. He’d asked that wrong,
and now anything he said would make him the stupid one.
“I brought burgers and beer—the dark ales that you like.”
Yuki smiled. “Thank you, brother! That was very thoughtful of you.”
Adam handed him the sack and two bottles of beer. “The woman...has she said anything more?”
Yuki shook his head. “I kept giving her water, even pouring it on her, too, but she’s really out of it and hasn’t regained consciousness in over two hours. Look at her. As hot as it is and she’s barely sweating. I think she’s dying, Adam.”
Adam ran toward her, grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her, then slapped her face on one side, and then on the other, but there was no response. He glanced down at the rat bites on her legs. They were red and looked like they were getting infected. Her eyes were swollen shut and her lips were twice the normal size and glued shut with dry blood. Even the cut down the middle of her chest had caked. Yuki was right. She looked bad.
“This pisses me off,” he muttered.
“You beat her,” Yuki said. “What did you expect?”
The hair rose on the back of Adam’s neck as he turned and stared at his brother. Yuki had grease from one of the burgers running down the side of his mouth, and a splotch of mayo and tomato had fallen onto his sweat-stained undershirt. The gun Yuki had taken without his knowledge was lying on the window ledge, and he could see the package of toilet paper had been opened. He didn’t want to know where he’d taken a dump, but guessed he had.
He didn’t understand this man. At all. And he damn sure didn’t like him. What was that saying that Mahalo Jones used to say? Oh yes. Worthless as tits on a boar hog. That was Yuki.
And then all of a sudden, the whole filthy scenario disgusted him. He couldn’t stand being in this building, with these weak people, for one more minute.
He walked over to the ledge, picked up his gun and shot his brother in the back of the head. Yuki fell face forward onto the floor near the cot, his body completely still.
Adam hovered over him for a moment but couldn’t muster any feelings of regret or sorrow. He was merely relieved not to have to listen to his brother’s nagging anymore. Lifting the gun once more, he pointed it at the woman passed out in the cot. He held his aim for at least a minute before he lowered the gun again.
