by K. M. Hodge
Mari rubbed her eyes. Great. Now I’m seeing things.
To be safe, she snapped a photo of the license and sent a request for a plainclothes officer in the Wyndham Estates neighborhood to check in on Charles. She also sent a request to the Virginia Corrections for a real time update on his status. He’d received the same kind of implant that all inmates received, whether in prison or on house arrest. It recorded vitals, GPS, and it could, if necessary, release a sedative to immobilize the prisoner.
***
St. Rita’s Hospital
Danville, Virginia
June 28, 2026
8:00 PM
~~~
Zane stumbled up the last flight of stairs to the roof, shouldered open the heavy metal door, and stepped outside into the cool night air. He had taken the first shift available in order to avoid his mother. The understaffed ER department kept him busy, so busy that he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything besides the swill coffee in the doctor’s lounge.
“And here I thought I had found my own secret hideaway place.”
Zane whirled around, his heart thundering in his chest.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Julie said.
He rubbed his face and groaned. “I think I need to get some sleep.”
“How’s your mom?”
He sat down on the ledge by Julie and he let out a shaky breath. “I... uh... I don’t know.”
She leaned against the wall and sipped from her steaming cup.
A silence fell between them, and a creeping self-doubt rolled in like an early morning fog. Did she think less of him because he didn’t care about his mother’s health? How could he explain to make her understand the toxic nature of his relationship with his mother?
He decided to change the subject. “Your dad’s doing well. I just checked in on him before my break.”
“Yeah....” Julie avoided his gaze. “Do you know if Charles left yet?”
He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “I’ve been sort of avoiding knowing any more than I already do.”
“So you don’t believe in this cause?”
His gaze dropped to his beat-up sneakers as he noted the hint of irritation and judgment in her voice. He really didn’t want to fight with her, but he felt one brewing in between the silence.
So much for just keeping this casual. Might as well get this over with.
“No, and I really want nothing to do with any of this. I’ve been stuck in the middle of the cross fires of this movement since I was born.”
“Because of him, my mother is dead, and no one is doing anything to stop him from hurting anyone else.”
Zane looked up at her in surprise. “What? How is he connected with your mom?”
“Scott Mitchel had one of his men tamper with my dad’s car, but my mom took it and died as a result.”
“I’m sorry.”
Julie crouched down and leaned against the brick ledge that lined the roof.
He couldn’t make out her face in the dark, but he could hear her sniffling. With a deep sigh, he sunk down beside her. The Syndicate and the low-level criminals who worked as the group’s muscle were the backdrop of his childhood. He, of all people, hated the way the system failed time and again to protect the innocent and, instead, let creeps like his old man, Billy, and Scott roam free. But, unlike his mother, Zane’s first inclination was to flee.
“It happened last year.” Julie sniffled. “The man responsible, a serial killer, died during a raid my father led. The one that freed your mother, and the detective my dad didn’t think I knew he was dating.”
“I didn’t know about any of this. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe you need to hear the whole story before you make snap judgments.”
“What more do you want from me? I helped Charles escape. I broke my oath. I can lose my license. Hell, I can go to prison for what I did. And for what?”
“You want a reward? Your mother’s been doing this and so much more to protect you for years! And you can’t even go and see her. What if she doesn’t make it?”
“Fuck you! You think because you read about all this in some book that you understand what it was like for me?”
“You heartless prick!” Julie rose to her feet and glared down at him. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a mother. You don’t have a fucking clue.” She turned on her heels and stormed off.
Zane scrambled to his feet and ran after her as she bolted towards the stairwell. By the time he caught up, the metal door had slammed shut in his face.
“Fuck.” He kicked the doorframe and howled in pain.
Shit, that was stupid.
Hobbling back and forth, he favored his sore foot and prayed he hadn’t broken a toe. He couldn’t fault Julie. He knew he should see his mother, but first he needed to get a good night’s sleep.
That will be easy since I’ll obviously be sleeping alone tonight.
As he hobbled his way down the stairs to the ER, he thought over what Julie had said, and how he really didn’t know the whole story. He’d certainly left a lot of things unsaid between him and his mother.
He paused on the landing to log into the hospital system, and scrolled through the names until he found the one he was looking for—his mother. He held his breath and clicked on her name. He knew she would be okay. People like his mother endured—something he hadn’t inherited from her.
***
Church Hill Neighborhood
Richmond, Virginia
June 28, 2026
9:00 PM
~~~
It only took Charles eight hours to locate Scott, something his men hadn’t been able to do after months of looking. He glanced at the time. He would need to act quickly if wanted to take Scott by surprise. The thermal imaging detector showed him crouched by the backdoor.
Lying in wait for his prey.
Charles shifted his weight and took a deep breath to slow his racing heart. A thrill of excitement shot through him, and he almost forgot about his throbbing leg.
It’s now or never, cowboy.
He flung open the door, ready to fight.
***
“Ahhh,” Scott cried out as the door swung open, clipping his shoulder and throwing him off balance before bouncing off the wall.
A security light from outside shone through the open door and caught a sheen of metal as it skittered across the floor.
“What the....” He stood stock still, his jaw dropped as he stared at Charles.
***
“Not who you were expecting?” Charles lunged at Scott, but missed his mark as a crushing chest pain ripped through him.
Fuck, not now!
He clutched his chest and winced in pain.
Scott snatched up the knife and sprung back up. “What’s the matter, old man? Ya got a little soft under house arrest?” Scott lunged forward with the knife extended.
Charles stood unsteadily on his feet. He stumbled back and tried to reach in his waistband for his gun. “The ladies don’t seem to mind.” He pulled out his Glock and kicked back the safety.
“Who brings a gun to a knife fight, asshole?” Scott swiftly kicked it out of Charles’ hands, causing it to scrape across the floor. He then crept closer, his breath coming out in short, uneven puffs. “Come on and fight me like a man.”
Charles backed away, his hands up to protect himself. “Put down the knife and I’ll show you how a real man fights.” Scott had the upper hand and they both knew it.
“I thought you only liked to beat up chicks.”
“Fuck you!”
Charles’s fist connected with Scott’s jaw, sending his head snapping back. He swung again but caught nothing but air.
Scott laughed. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
The madman charged at Charles, and the knife sliced through his forearm, causing him to sway under the weight of the searing pain. Beads of sweat poured down his face.
Fuck that hurt!
Sc
ott rushed at him again, knocking him off his feet. His skull connected with corner of the kitchen table as they tumbled to the ground.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” Scott sneered, using his weight to pin Charles in place.
Red hot pain sliced through his abdomen as Scott sunk the knife into him, making him wince. The metallic taste of blood filled Charles’ mouth.
“Any last words?”
He grit his teeth and jabbed his palm into Scott’s chin, knocking him off. “Yeah, I’m gonna kill you.” Charles’ belly was on fire. He tried to get to his feet, but fell back.
“You piece of shit.” Scott sprung to his feet in one swift move and the tip of his boot caught Charles in the leg. “Couldn’t just leave well enough alone.”
The next few kicks caught him in his gut, and Charles’ vision began to blur as he coughed up blood. He fought hard to move, but his legs had locked up.
“Come on, you wimp. Get up.” Scott kicked him hard on the back of the head. “Come on, ya pansy.”
Fuck! This isn’t going as planned.
Warm, sticky blood pooled around Charles. He needed to act quickly before he passed out.
Plan B. He tapped his watch. Fuck that! I’m not going to go lying down.
Charles pushed passed the pain and got to his feet.
Scott stood waiting for him. “Well, look who finally put his big boy pants on.”
He charged at Scott, connecting hard with his solar plexus. They tumbled, colliding into the kitchen table and sending the chairs scattering across the room. The table groaned under the force of their weight. They stumbled and fell back, slipping on the pools of blood.
“Come on! Is that the best you can do?”
Scott’s taunt sent Charles over the edge, and he hammered his fist into his side.
“Fuck!” Scott grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head onto the floor.
The last thing he heard was the crack and whine of a firearm.
“Hold on, boss,” a voice called out from far away.
Chapter 10
St. Rita’s Hospital
Danville, Virginia
June 28, 2026
9:00 PM
~~~
Jason sat pitched forward in his chair, watching the minutes and hours pass by on his smart watch. The doctors had said six hours, but it was now going on ten without any news. At one point, he’d tried to eat a sandwich from a vending machine, but couldn’t swallow more than a few bites. He’d popped his pill, but his gut still churned.
When he visited Manny earlier, the old man had suggested Jason go to a meeting, but he couldn’t leave without knowing Sally was okay.
Jason twisted his wedding ring back and forth as he prayed.
Please, God... please let her be okay.
When he’d told Manny about the wedding, his friend had been pleased and, for a moment, Jason had let himself enjoy the news, too. Now, a persistent doubt began to creep in that she might not make it. But he couldn’t just sit and worry. He needed to do something, so he pulled up the boy’s number and called him again.
Zane still wouldn’t answer.
Where the fuck is he? Doesn’t he care about his mother enough to check in on her?
As he was about to get up and start looking for the kid, Sally’s surgeon came through the double doors. Jason stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. “How is she?”
“Mr. Knettle, I’m sorry we couldn’t come out sooner and give you an update,” the surgeon said.
“Is she... uh... is she okay?”
“There were some complications. It appears as though your wife had more than just end stage renal disease. She also has renal papillary necrosis.”
Jason’s breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry. “Ah... what does that mean, exactly?”
“The connection points of her kidneys were dead, but that’s not the only problem. We’re also having a hard time getting her to wake up from the anesthesia.”
“What?” Jason gasped and collapsed back down on the chair behind him.
“The lack of functioning kidneys means that sometimes anesthesia can be a risk, but we are doing all we can to help your wife.” The surgeon turned to go back. “I’ll send someone out to get you as soon as she wakes up.”
Jason tried to steady his breathing as the waves of a panic attack came rolling in.
I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.
He bolted from the chair and started down the hallway and out the door. He pulled up the AA site on his smart watch—there would be a meeting in twenty minutes at a nearby church.
***
Jason hadn’t planned on speaking, but when the moderator looked at him and asked if he’d anything to share, everything came tumbling out.
Now everyone stared at him, agape, and he realized how surreal it must all sound to an outsider, like a plot to a Mission Impossible movie.
“I know it all sounds crazy, but it’s true. I swear I’m sober,” he said.
The moderator chuckled. “I know this is supposed to be anonymous, but I read your book. I believe you.”
Jason let out a breath of relief. The last thing he needed was for someone to admit him to a psychiatric ward.
“I’m glad you came in,” the moderator said. “It sounds like you have a lot going on right now. The important thing is that you came to a meeting instead of getting a drink.”
At the end of the meeting, when they handed out chips, Jason stood and accepted his. Manny had been right—as usual. He couldn’t wait to give the chip to Sally when she woke. For the first time that day, he felt hopeful. If he could resist getting drunk, maybe they could all come out of this on top. Maybe.
A little over an hour after he’d entered, he stepped out of the church, anxious to get back to his friends.
He was startled from his thoughts by the loud clearing of a man’s throat behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and then quickened his pace.
Two men followed him and were keeping up with his pace.
Jason kept walking the two blocks back to the hospital, hearing their footsteps keeping time with his the entire way. When two other men fell into step beside him before they arrived, he sucked in a nervous breath.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
“It would be better if you stayed at the hospital, Mr. Knettle.”
Jason wet his lips and tried to still his racing heart. “And why’s that?”
“It’s for your own protection,” one of the men said.
“Do I have a say in this?”
The men closed ranks, giving him no choice but to keep moving forward.
“I guess that’s a big no, then.” Jason shoved his hands into his pockets. “What would happen if I tried to make a break for it?”
The goon on his left elbowed him hard in his ribs. “I wouldn’t recommend that.”
Jason winced and doubled over.
Fucking Charles. This was not part of the plan.
***
Church Hill Neighborhood
Richmond, Virginia
June 28, 2026
10:45 PM
~~~
The shuttle service dropped Chris off in front of his house and he shuffled up the drive, exhausted. His stomach tightened when he noticed Ellie’s car not in the drive. She usually waited for him when he came home after being away for a couple of days.
Where did that woman get off to?
He walked round back and paused outside the door. It was ajar. Ellie always triple-checked the locks before she left anywhere.
He pocketed his keys and crept forward, pushing the door open slightly with the tip of his finger. The horror show that greeted him inside took his breath away.
Blood. Everywhere. The kitchen table was askew and the chairs lay on their sides. A melted bowl of ice cream sat on the counter with a spoon lying beside it.
Chris stumbled out of the kitchen and fell down hard on the couch.
The police, I n
eed to call the police.
His hands shook as he called the cops.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“My wife... blood... there’s so much blood.” He sobbed.
“Sir...?”
“My wife....” My wife, my beautiful wife.... He fell back into the couch, unable to say another word.
A numbness spilled over him. He tried to get up, but couldn’t move.
Get yourself together, solider.
His body didn’t seem to be in the mood to cooperate. He heard the sound of sirens in the distance, and the sound grew closer until suddenly, as if from out of nowhere, two EMT’s stood in front of him.
“Sir, are you hurt? What happened?”
“My wife... she’s gone.”
***
St. Rita’s Hospital
Danville, Virginia
June 28, 2026
11:00 PM
~~~
Zane scratched the top of his head and stretched his back. He still had a few more charts to update before he could call it a night. One of the orderlies had made the mistake of using the “q” word a few hours ago and everyone had glared at him. Commenting on a quiet ER is akin to saying “Macbeth” in a theater. You didn’t ever say it. Ever.
The ER had gone from dead quiet to a veritable Grand Central Station within minutes. A two-car pileup, two heart attacks, and one gunshot wound had kept them busy for a while.
A curiosity overcame Zane now, and he pulled up his mother’s file, listed under a pseudonym, Blue Knettle. When he saw they’d listed her status as stable, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t bother reading the rest. What would be the point? He thought back to his fight with Julie, who had managed to evade him by staying with her father.
“Dr. Ride?” A nurse poked her head into the dimly lit lounge. “You up for one more?”
Zane closed out of the files on the mini and rose to his feet. “Sure, why not.”
Who needs sleep, anyways?
***
Jason sat back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, counting the tiny dots that scattered across each tile.
356, 357, 358....
“Mr. Knettle?” Sally’s doctor touched him on the shoulder. “Your wife is awake and asking for you.”
Wife. It sounded so foreign to his ear. He stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. The one-year chip rubbed against his knuckles—a constant reminder to stay strong.
