Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2)

by Anne B. Cole

  “Scott. Scott.” Sam listened, but heard nothing. His fingers fumbled around the device.

  Instantly a voice crackled, “Scott here. Who’s this?” The voice held an alarmed edge.

  Sam wiggled his fingers and gripped the radio. “Sam, Sam Daggett. I’m a friend of Gretta’s and believe she is being stalked right now.”

  “Where are you? Where’s Al?” Scott’s voice bellowed.

  “Al will be okay. I’m on a paved road winding up a mountain about four miles west of Greenview. I don’t know where Gretta lives, but I think the guy who’s after her does.” Sam suspected he had little time to waste.

  Scott didn't respond. Sam shook the radio. Nothing. Sharp static sent him into fresh panic as he fumbled with the defective radio.

  Then it burst to life again.

  “—lives in a log cabin about a mile up the road I think you're on. Her road changes to gravel about a half mile before the cabin. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”

  Sam didn’t wait for directions and took off running up the road.

  A mile.

  Back in high school, he ran a mile in under five minutes. He had to get there before something bad happened. His heart pounded, and his lungs screamed for air as he raced upward. Gravel slid under his sneakers.

  I’m on the right road. Half mile to go.

  Darkness encompassed him. He lost his footing twice but didn’t fall. Pressing on, a drive came into view. A log cabin stood among giant hemlocks about two hundred yards ahead. Lights inside the cabin glowed. Sam approached cautiously, slipping behind a tree as he scanned the house.

  Rick arrived and walked up to the porch. Instead of knocking, he opened the screen door. Gretta burst through the door, wielding a bat.

  Sam ran into the drive as she swung at Rick. Then his blood ran cold as Gretta spotted him and froze in disbelief.

  With his back to Sam, Rick calmly took the bat away.

  Sam drew Justin’s gun.

  The roar of an engine in the driveway caused Rick to spin around. Sam jumped into the weeds, inches away from being run over. He pushed himself up to see a sheriff’s truck skidding to a halt, flinging dirt into his face.

  Gretta stumbled down the steps in front of Rick. One of his hands clutched her neck. The other pointed a revolver to her temple.

  “Evening, Officer. Officer Scott, is it?” Rick addressed the cop who had jumped from his vehicle pointing his own gun.

  “Let her go,” Scott demanded, cocking his pistol.

  Rick shifted Gretta in front of his chest and pushed the barrel of the gun to the side of her head.

  “No,” Sam shouted, lurching out of the shadows.

  Rick’s attention jumped to him as Gretta struggled to get free. A shot fired. Officer Scott went down.

  Sam raised Justin’s gun, but was hit by what felt like two miniature cannonballs in the chest. The bullets had propelled him backward before he collapsed to the ground.

  Justin’s gun fell from his hand.

  On his back, he saw stars through the trees. Unable to breathe, he stared at the night sky. Often, he had wondered what it would be like to be shot. Wondered what it would feel like, how much it would hurt, and how long he had until things went dark.

  “Sam!” Gretta screamed.

  Unable to help, he prayed for her safety. He heard her cry his name again before he slipped into darkness.

  Chapter 47

  The Rescuer

  Gretta

  “Before I continue my story, would you like a Ho Ho?”

  The voice broke through Gretta’s haze and caused the hair on her arms to stand on end. She sat on the couch as the room swirled in and out of focus.

  Duct tape cut into the tender skin on the inside of her wrists. Her chin had sunk under the weight of her pounding head. Only her eyes tracked her captor as he removed the white wrapper before he shoved the chocolate snack cake into his mouth. An oval name patch on his uniform shirt displayed his name.

  Gretta didn’t care what he did with her. He had shot and killed Ryan and Sam. Rachel remained downstairs, duct taped to a board, drugged. Rick would kill Rachel, too. She knew he would because she could never do it, even if he held a gun to her head or a knife to her throat.

  I want to die.

  It hurt too much to live. Because she had never stopped loving Sam, and because she cared for Ryan, both were dead. Rachel would soon follow.

  “Now, where did I leave off? Oh, yes. Look around, Gretta. This cabin is mine. The entire mountain is mine and you, my dear, are mine.” He laughed as he pressed a switch on the little black box in his hands. The screen lit up and revealed Rachel’s unmoving body.

  “Rachel is awake and can hear us. Which weapon have you decided to kill her with? The gun or the knife?” he taunted.

  Buy more time.

  Faking incoherence, she let her chin fall to her chest. The sudden movement caused her head to spin.

  “How are you feeling, my dear? Monsters still chasing you?” Rick mocked.

  She trembled as vivid memories of nasty hallucinations returned. Minutes before Rick shot Sam and Ryan, she had been surrounded by four hooded skeletons. They had terrified her, yet she found the courage to grab her baseball bat. One by one she smashed them, scattering their bones throughout the cabin. She had cracked the skull of the final skeleton with a sickening thud and chased it off the porch.

  At that moment, she had spotted Sam.

  Before she could allow herself to believe it was really him, Rick had taken her bat away, shots had fired, and Ryan and Sam fell to the ground. Both dead. It didn’t seem fair. They were gone and she had been spared.

  Gretta peeked through hair fallen free of her ponytail. Rick inched closer and appeared to be studying her face. She felt as if the drug he had shot her up with was wearing off, but better if he thought himself still in control.

  Determined to save Rachel, she slowly raised her head. “It’s just you and me now, Rick.” She forced a seductive smile across her face before she let her head loll against the couch.

  “My name’s not Rick.” He pointed to the name patch on his chest. “I wore this so I could pick up your car at the diner today. My name is Mark Hanson.”

  “Mark Hanson’s dead,” Gretta muttered, remembering the name of the man who had previously owned this cabin. Desperate to keep him talking, she lifted her hands, still taped together, and made herself trace a finger up the side of his arm. “You are very much alive.” She continued the charade, praying Ryan had called for backup.

  “Correct. My father, Mark Hanson, is dead. It upset me when his lawyer announced he bequeathed this place to the church. I allowed them to take my cabin, but I had to come back every summer to visit Lily.” He leaned close, inches from her face. “And kill another.” He flashed her a wicked smile.

  Gretta’s stomach lurched as she connected the dots. Lily’s body had never been found because her remains hung in the secret basement of the cabin. She raised her gaze to the psychopathic killer, determined to mask her revulsion and growing terror.

  “Lily? Tell her to go home. I want you all to myself.” She dragged her bound hands across his chest, making sure she tapped his shirt pocket.

  No more syringes.

  He stiffened at her touch.

  “What kind of drug did you shoot me up with? Whatever it is makes me feel so good.” She forced her eyes to unfocus as she leaned forward, bumping her forehead on his bicep. Her heart thundered in her ears when he circled an arm around her shoulder and patted her knee.

  “Lily was first for me in many ways. The little tramp liked me for what Daddy couldn’t give her. For Lily, image meant everything. Daddy gave her status. I gave her sex. She didn’t need money. I did, so I told her I’d tell everyone abo
ut our little arrangement unless she gave me a million dollars.” He settled Gretta against his chest and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  It was all she could do not to cringe as she surreptitiously scanned the room for any kind of weapon.

  “The stupid bimbo took the money out of their joint account. When Daddy’s banker called, asking questions, I decided it was time for Lily to go. Let me show you.” He picked her up and swung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

  Gretta struggled within arms of steel. Blood filled her throbbing head as he carried her into the pantry closet and descended the stairs.

  “This entrance is inconvenient. I use the other. Originally, this cabin had a wine cellar. Daddy was claustrophobic, and Lily didn’t like the dark.” He laughed as he set Gretta in front of Lily’s remains.

  “When they went on vacation, I offered to seal it off. I wired the cabin with hidden cameras and installed the fake floor. It was such fun, spying on the two of them. Until Lily pissed me off.”

  Rick paused, staring at the skeleton. Running a finger over her pelvic bone, he sighed. “She told me I had to return half of the money or else she would tell Daddy everything.” He picked up Lily’s hand and snapped one of her bones between his thumb and finger. “Sorry, Lily.”

  Gretta noticed several bones were missing or broken and wired back together. She glanced over at Rachel who appeared awake, yet she held absolutely still.

  Mark’s evil laughter filled her ears.

  “Rachel’s smart. She figured out if she doesn’t move she won’t be drugged. I have the pump hooked to a motion sensor aimed at her. The smallest twitch triggers the pump, giving her another dose. This keeps her quiet when I’m gone. Now, where did I leave off?”

  “Pissed at Lily,” Gretta murmured, battling back more revulsion.

  “Oh, yes. Lily thought she could replace Mom at Daddy’s side. Mom never cheated on Daddy. This bimbo slept with me six weeks into their so-called marriage.” Another bone snapped between his fingers.

  “How did you kill her?” Gretta’s full focus had returned. For Rachel’s sake she’d do whatever necessary to keep him talking.

  “Starved her. Right there.” He pointed to where Rachel was secured. “The human body doesn’t take long when you don’t give it water. The first Lily lasted the longest. Six days, I think. The other two lived only a little over four. They started off skinnier. I like the drug Rachel is on. Hallucinogens are marvelous, want to see?” Mark pressed a button on the pump.

  Rachel’s breathing began to speed up and she cried out behind her gag. She thrashed on the table for almost a minute before surrendering to unconsciousness.

  Mark laughed. “You’ll get your turn, Gretta. What I gave you earlier was actually a sedative with hallucinogen effects. It’s not nearly as fun. I had no idea it would have this kind of effect on you.” He ran the back of his hand across her cheek.

  Holding her breath to keep from vomiting, she counted the seconds as his fingers touched her.

  One, two, three.

  How much longer could she hold on to her sanity?

  Keep him talking.

  “Why only once a year? Why not kill more women?” Gretta pressed.

  “I would, but alas, I only have complete and safe access to this little room during the summer weeks when the Glenns are off on their mission trips.” He traced the cracked bone with a finger and grabbed a roll of wire to repair the damage.

  Desperate for more time, she pointed to the video screens. “Show me how they work.” She tossed her head to the side in an attempt to act a little giddy.

  Mark appeared amused by her interest. He tapped the monitor for the porch and adjusted the volume. “I can hear and see everything, either in here or on my touch screen.” He showed her all of the rooms before pointing to a blank screen. “This one’s audio only. I removed the bug from your car today. It’s how I found out about the late Officer Scott being on the case of the dead ‘Lilys.’ I admit, he was smart so I decided to take his girlfriend.” A sneer formed on his lips. “Yesterday, I showed her the time you two kissed. Naughty, naughty.”

  Rage flooded Gretta, but she banked her fury. “What about the dress? Why do you put Lily’s dress on them before you kill them?” She pointed at the pictures.

  He’d keep killing. That much was obvious.

  “Ah, Lily’s wedding dress. She had the nerve to wear red the day she married Daddy. The next two Lilys died in her dress, and this Lily will die in it as well.” He tossed his head in Rachel’s direction.

  Intense panic for her friend consumed her. Think, Gretta, damn it!

  She slid closer to him. “When she’s gone, I’ll have you all to myself.” The idea was sickening.

  He smoothed her hair with one hand. “Your little act doesn’t fool me. You will die next.”

  “You kill once a year,” she spat.

  “Correct. I will kill you after you kill Rachel.”

  A loud pounding rattled the floor right above their heads. Mark grabbed a fistful of Gretta’s hair and dragged her up the steps. The thudding continued, coming from the cabin door.

  “Gretta!”

  Sam? No, it can’t be. Mark shot him in the chest with at least two bullets.

  She struggled against Mark’s steel grip.

  “Gretta!” Another shout.

  Definitely Sam’s voice. Is it his ghost?

  Mark slammed her on the couch and strode to the door with his gun drawn.

  “He has a gun,” Gretta cried out.

  Mark growled at her and pulled a length of dirty rope from his pocket. Before he could gag her with it, the door flung open. Mark aimed his gun at empty space.

  “Where are you, coward? Show your face!” Mark hollered as he inched closer to the open door.

  Gretta frantically scanned the area. She couldn’t see Sam, but felt his presence.

  “He’s dead. You killed him and now he came back to kill you.” She lurched to her feet, ready to run.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Mark grabbed her arm and dragged her to the porch. He waved his gun at the two unmoving bodies in the yard.

  “He’s dead, but his spirit will haunt you unless you take me to him.” Gretta didn’t know what she was going to do, but the need to touch Sam and say good-bye overwhelmed her.

  “Shut up.” Mark pointed the gun into the darkness. “Who’s out there?”

  No one responded.

  “Take me to him.” Gretta stared at Sam’s lifeless body. Tears stung her cheeks.

  Mark dragged her down the three porch steps.

  “That’s far enough,” the voice growled.

  The clutch on her arm tightened as they both froze in their tracks.

  Sam rose to his feet. He wore a gray sweatshirt and jeans. His blonde hair stuck up in the back and his chocolate brown eyes locked on her.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she remembered the first time she saw him in the park and their gazes met.

  Before the tree crashed on us.

  Before the pirate attacked Anya.

  Before Dad died.

  Before Grandma and Justin died.

  Before Ryan and Sam died.

  Sam, her ‘Tall, Tanned, and Handsome,’ approached them, unarmed.

  Nothing could hurt him. He was dead. She knew this because his brother stood right beside him with a hand on his shoulder. A woman, with brown eyes identical to Sam’s, flanked his other side, standing tall and proud. Reunited with his mother and brother, Sam would soon move on to his destined afterlife.

  “Sam,” Gretta whispered. “I love you so much.”

  “I never stopped loving you.” Then Sam’s expression hardened as he regarded Mark, who tightened his hold on her arm. �
�Let her go.”

  “I’m not afraid of you. I killed you. You’re not real.” Mark shifted Gretta nervously in front of his chest, adjusting the grip on his gun.

  “This is a real gun.” Sam pulled it out of his belt and aimed it at Mark. Justin slid his hand under Sam’s, holding the gun steady. “There’s someone behind you.”

  Mark repositioned his stance. “Liar. I don’t know what kind of trick you’re playing, but your girlfriend here will be the one with a bullet in her head.”

  Gretta heard the gun against her head click in preparation to fire.

  “Take him out, Roxana,” Sam replied with confidence.

  Mark screamed as Emeye landed on his head, claws tearing into hair and scalp. He dropped Gretta’s arm and flung her cat into the darkness.

  Gretta dropped to her knees. Before she could make another move, the barrel of Mark’s gun pressed into the side of her neck.

  A single shot rang in her ears as Mark fell on top of her. Warm trickles of blood dripped over her head and across her face. She found herself screaming as Sam kicked the gun from Mark’s hand and pulled him off.

  Arms wrapped around her.

  Warm arms.

  Sam’s hold on her strengthened before his hands pushed the hair from her face.

  “I’m never going to let you go, Gretta. You’re safe and I won’t leave you ever again.”

  Gretta buried her face in his chest, smearing blood over his sweatshirt. The beat of his heart drummed against her cheek.

  Impossible.