Manhunt

by Tyler Anne Snell

  Sophia’s body was still, her heart thumping in tandem with her anxiety.

  “Yeah,” Amanda croaked out, voice hoarse.

  “Where was he keeping you?”

  The woman was struggling to answer—that much Sophia could tell.

  “Dunno.”

  “We believe that Nathanial also took Lisa Hardwick. Did you see her? Is she still alive?”

  Sophia felt time slow. This is it, she thought. She braced herself against the wall, waiting for a stranger to give her hope or destroy it.

  “Lisa’s there,” she said simply.

  “But is she alive?” Braydon prodded.

  Every fiber of Sophia’s being stood up, waiting for the answer she had sought since Day One in Culpepper. Amanda Alcaster didn’t realize it then, but what she was about to say was going to change Sophia’s life. In one way or another, she was about to know of her sister’s fate. “Amanda, is Lisa alive?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said so low that she almost missed it. “But, he wants Sophia.”

  Marina Alcaster must have broken the speed of light to get to the hospital. Seconds after Amanda’s ominous message, she flew into the ER in a bout of tears and high-pitched squeals. Sophia wordlessly waved her over and had only a second to move out of the woman’s way.

  “My baby!” she yelled, hysterical. “I’m so sorry about our fight. I don’t care about that land more than you! I love you, baby!”

  The second nurse went in then and said Amanda was ready for surgery. Marina, knowing nothing of her daughter’s condition, was told to follow them to the doctor but then she would have to go back to the lobby to wait. Not once did the older woman look at Sophia, though Braydon followed her to the end of the hallway quickly explaining the situation.

  Lisa was still alive. It was a thought that made Sophia’s heart soar. After all the time that had passed since she’d been taken, she was still alive. Not only was she alive, but they knew for a fact who had her.

  “I feel like I can breathe a bit easier now,” she admitted to Braydon when he made his way back. Lines of worry were etched across his forehead, each a cavern of concern.

  “He wants you” was his response. His tone was cold. Sophia wanted to ease the detective’s stress but knew there wasn’t a thing she could do.

  “I need to tell Richard,” she said instead. “Go ahead and talk to the ME. I want to stay here to see how the surgery goes.”

  Braydon managed to tense up even more.

  “I’m not leaving you alone,” he said.

  “And I don’t want to see any more dead bodies,” she snapped back before letting out a long sigh. “Sorry, I’d just rather stay up here for now.” That didn’t seem to change his resolve, so she added what she hoped was reassurance. “Listen, there’s a full staff on this floor, including security.” She motioned to the hospital security officer who had appeared after all the commotion. He stood talking to a nurse at the nurses’ station at the end of the hall. “I’ll be fine for a few minutes.”

  Braydon, ever the protective man, waged an internal battle. His eyes never left hers.

  “Fine,” he relented. “But you stay here and call me if anything and I mean anything happens. Okay?” She nodded. “Be safe.” He waited a moment more before turning and walking over to the elevator, already pulling out his phone to make some calls. She watched him disappear behind its doors.

  Sophia went to reach for her own cell but realized, too late, that it was still attached to its charger on the detective’s nightstand. She sighed and made her way to the nurses’ station.

  “May I use the phone?” she asked the nurse behind the partition. The woman obliged and even went so far as to walk away and give her some privacy, the security guard following her lead. Privacy. Something that would have been rare in the city, Sophia thought fleetingly.

  Richard answered on the first ring and after she broke the news, he told her that nothing but the devil himself could stop him from coming to the hospital. Even if Amanda was in surgery, he wanted to be there. Sophia knew the feeling. Amanda was the closest they had been to Lisa in days.

  The traumatized woman was their first real link to Nathanial, too. If she didn’t make it, then finding the madman and her sister would continue to be horribly difficult. Sophia fell into a lobby chair and put her head in her hands. The image of her name etched into Amanda’s stomach was stuck in her mind like glue. What was Nathanial playing at? If he did get Sophia, what horrible things would he do to her?

  “Oh, I can’t take this,” Sophia said aloud, standing. The news had been good to hear but now horrible images of what the madman could do raced through her head. Marina Alcaster was still nowhere to be found and so there was nothing to distract her.

  “Could you tell Marina Alcaster, the woman who just ran in here, that I’ll be right back to talk with her?” Sophia asked the nurse who had let her borrow the phone. She had decided that, dead body or not, she wanted to know as much about this case as she could. It was better than just sitting around and imagining the worst. Plus, she doubted Nathanial would show up at the hospital of all places. He’d have to know Braydon would be with her and that the detective would be more than willing to cause the man harm. “My name’s Sophia. I’m friends with Detective Thatcher.” The nurse agreed to give Marina the news and then told Sophia how to get to the room where Braydon and the ME would be talking. When the elevators took too long, Sophia headed to the stairs with a newfound purpose to her stride.

  The medical examiner had an office in the basement of the building. It also happened to be smack-dab in the middle of the morgue. Sophia realized that made sense but it didn’t put her nerves at ease. Each step she took downward was more nerve-racking than the last. She half expected a little girl from a horror movie to pop out just as the lights burned out. Once she was at the ground level, she almost sang with relief.

  The hospital’s basement was the polar opposite of the ground floor. It was like a wasteland. Sophia crept down the hallway, getting halfway through it and still not spotting a single soul. The lights that buzzed overhead were more loud than bright and more annoying than helpful. Instead of bouncing off all the white surfaces, they cast shadows on everything.

  “I wouldn’t suggest you run,” said a voice from behind just as she passed another light emitting a high-pitched buzz. “That action wouldn’t bode well for your sister.”

  Sophia spun around. She should have listened to Braydon and stayed put on the first floor.

  Nathanial Williams was standing in the mouth of the hallway, smiling from ear to ear. He was nothing like the man she had met before—the warm, inviting personality had burned out and in its place was a man on the brink of madness. Shadows crept around him as if he were creating them; they poured out over his facial features, forging a sinister mask with eyes as dark as coal. Maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe Nathanial didn’t look different at all. Maybe now she knew too much about the man to ever see him for anything other than a monster.

  He stayed still as she looked him up and down. He wore a blue janitor’s jumpsuit with a faded name tag. In his right hand was a black rectangular box.

  Sophia didn’t know which emotion would spring out first, but she was glad it was anger before fear. She straightened her back.

  “Where is Lisa?” she asked The distance between them made her feel much more confident than she should when in the presence of a brilliant killer.

  “Your sister? Oh, it doesn’t matter. She won’t be there for too long.”

  Fear pulled at the pit of Sophia’s stomach. “What does that mean?”

  “It means, Miss Hardwick, that I have a proposition for you.” He waved the box in the air before sliding it across the floor. It stopped a few feet from her.

  “Where’s Lisa?” she asked again, not moving an inch. Nathanial seemed to
think the question was funny. He laughed—the sound was hollow.

  “Miss Hardwick, I believe we’ve moved on from that particular question, but I suppose I’ll humor you. She’s somewhere and I won’t tell you where. Will that answer work for now? I’m trying to strike up a deal with you to save your sister.” He was speaking as if they were playing a game, and maybe it was to him.

  “What kind of deal?” She practically spat out the words. His smile grew wider.

  “Open the box first.”

  Sophia hesitated. The morgue was down the hall and to the left. If she ran fast enough Braydon might be able to catch up to the madman. At the very least, she bet if she yelled he would hear her. It wasn’t as if anyone else was down on the floor with them.

  “If you’re stalling in the hopes that Detective Thatcher will magically appear, saving you in the nick of time, I would advise against it.” He sighed. “Every second you do not open that box is one more second that I’ll tick off of Lisa’s life. Now open it or I’ll leave before your knight in shining armor can stop me.”

  Sophia felt her confidence receding. She took a step forward and picked the box up. To her surprise, it was light. Inside was the most confusing combination of items. The first was a piece of red satin clothing, which, after a moment, she realized made up a dress. The second item was a small needle and syringe. It looked odd sitting in a sea of satin.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “That, my dear Sophia, is my offer. I want to make a trade.”

  “What kind of trade?”

  He was almost giddy when he spoke next. “You for your sister, of course.” Sophia was almost certain her eyebrow had disappeared into her hairline. The man wasn’t making the most sense. He held up his finger to keep her questions at bay.

  “Let me elaborate.” He cleared his throat. Despite the distance between them, it sounded as though he was right in front of her. “You may or may not have figured out that my ultimate plan is to make your detective suffer.”

  “Revenge,” she stated.

  “I wouldn’t call it that per se, but I’m not going to stand here and say that you’re wrong.”

  “But why? Braydon didn’t kill Terrance. There’s no revenge to be had. You need to accept that,” she tried.

  “I’ve also been asked to accept that God is real, but that doesn’t mean I have.” His smile cracked. “I do have my own set of beliefs, although they may not be religious in nature, they still ring true—Braydon Thatcher damned my family, Miss Hardwick. There isn’t a force in this world that could convince me otherwise. So, if I were you, I’d stop right there.”

  A coldness settled in the pit of her stomach. In that moment she realized her own truth—Nathanial Williams would never see reason. He had left all sanity behind. If he’d ever had any at all.

  “Okay, so where were we? Oh, right, destroying Detective Thatcher!” His cheerful smile returned. “On Sunday, Richard Vega will be throwing the annual Culpepper Fund-raiser. I want you to tell him to make sure it stays on course and I want you to attend.” He pointed to the box. “Wearing that lovely little number.”

  “What? Why?” she couldn’t stop from asking. It was a bizarre request that didn’t fit the situation.

  “At the fund-raiser I will trade you for your sister.” He paused, waiting for Sophia to respond, but she couldn’t find the words. He then continued, unperturbed. “That is if you wear that dress. You may have also already realized that I’m a fan of theatrics. See, over the years my world has been submerged in numbers and theories and formulas. It instilled a secret love of all things dramatic within me and I just can’t help but employ my own version of poetic justice against the man who ruined my family. Sure—” he took a step closer and stopped “—I could have killed Thatcher without all of this fuss and, sure, I could just kill you right here, right now, but there’s honestly no fun in it for me. I want the drama. I want the suffering.” Nathanial seemed to be vibrating with excitement. Sophia’s confidence had completely gone and fear housed itself inside her very core. She dared not speak. She dared not breathe. The man kept his monologue going—a broadcast that couldn’t be muted.

  “You, however, were not in the original plan. I took Lisa with every intention of keeping her just out of Braydon’s reach while making him look a fool in front of Mr. Richard Vega, who I’ve heard, makes no issue about taking down those who displease him. I meant to cripple Braydon’s career by torturing and then killing the lover of the town’s most powerful man. Then, when he was completely crushed, I would finish what I came here to do, but then I saw the way he looked at you—the way he cared. I saw a way to cut him deeper. I want you, Sophia, not your sister. Everyone else, the women of unfortunate timing, mean nothing to me now. Only you do and that’s why I’m presenting you with an option here. I’d like to tell you I’m not as cruel as you think—I want to give you the chance to save your flesh and blood because I know the pain of having them taken.” Sophia wanted to point out that her death would leave Lisa in the same boat, but held her tongue. The man seemed to be finishing his long speech. “You show up to the fund-raiser and I’ll let Lisa go.”

  That was the bottom line.

  “Why take me at the fund-raiser?” she finally managed.

  “Because when I take you, I want it to be a challenge...one that, when I successfully pull it off, will make Braydon feel even more desolate.”

  “How do I even know Lisa’s still alive?” It was one thing to hear it from Amanda. She wanted assurance from the man himself.

  “I’ll let you see her one more time. Give you a moment to say goodbye. Again, Miss Hardwick, I’m not a monster.” Sophia had every doubt in the world about that. “Now, let’s talk about that syringe before your friendly neighborhood detective comes back.” He took his finger and pressed it to a spot on the side of his neck. “I want you to grab that needle and put it right here on your neck.”

  Sophia didn’t have to ask what was in it. She knew it was his sleep-inducing cocktail.

  “It won’t kill you, but if you don’t inject yourself with it I will kill your sister. Of that you can be completely certain.” The smile oozed off of his face as he said it. “Braydon will think you’re dead when he finds you. He’ll get a taste of his future.”

  Sophia’s world slowed. Her vision blurred. She hadn’t taken the drug yet but she knew he had already won. With shaking hands she took out the syringe and stared into the eyes of a man filled with hate.

  “Right now, you’re probably thinking of saying something to the effect of Braydon Thatcher will, undoubtedly, stop me. That he’ll save Lisa and then you, but remember, Sophia—he didn’t stop me from killing Trixie, he didn’t stop me from cutting up Amanda, and he didn’t stop Terrance from killing his sister. I suggest, once more, you heed my advice. It’s the only way to save your sister.”

  Sophia didn’t hesitate this time. She placed the needle against her neck and pushed the liquid into her body.

  “You’re heartless,” she said as cold pain began to spread through her. Nathanial laughed once more as his joyful smile returned.

  “You’re wrong, Sophia,” he said. “I have a heart and that’s the problem.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Officer Murphy had been helpless to defend himself as Nathanial choked the life out of him. The medical examiner confirmed that the same drug that had disabled Trixie had been found in the cop’s bloodstream. Braydon reasoned that he had opened the door to question the man and had been stabbed with the needle before he was able to do anything more.

  “I haven’t heard back yet about what specific drug it is, but I think it’s a safe bet that it’s the one Nathanial was working on while at Microne,” she had said after being filled in on the man’s academic and work background. “He must have taken quite a few samples with him when he left. The best I can
do right now is to equate the drug to Ambien which is used to help insomniacs sleep. Though, this particular mix seems to work much, much faster.”

  Braydon didn’t have to agree; the fact that two people hadn’t had the time to fight back was proof enough of the drug’s power. Instead he thanked the woman for her help and left. He didn’t know what he had hoped for when he had come down. At least he could tell James’s family that he hadn’t been awake when he was killed. It wasn’t a lot but the idea of a painless death might be comforting.

  It was something he had wished Amelia had.

  He brought his phone out and was about to call the captain to tell him the news when something down the hall caught his eye.

  “Sophia!”

  Instant fear exploded in his chest as he closed the distance between them, his heart already thumping at a nauseating pace. The way she was sprawled on the ground, unnaturally still, tore a wound inside him open, letting an overwhelming feeling of anguish pour out. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her.

  He crouched down next to her, immediately checking to see if she was breathing. For one long second her chest didn’t rise and the world seemed to darken because of it, but then she took in a breath and let one out. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

  “Sophia?” he tried again, quickly scanning her body for any blood or obvious marks. His eyes stopped on her neck where a small red bump had formed.

  His fear for her life switched gears as he realized that the man who had done this to her wasn’t far off. He pulled out his gun and with his free hand dialed Tom.

  As soon as his partner answered, Braydon started talking, “Nathanial is in the hospital, or was. He drugged Sophia. We’re on the bottom floor.”

  “I’m pulling into the parking lot now” was Tom’s response before Braydon disconnected. The urge to search for Nathanial seared through him but he would not leave Sophia alone.

  With one more look around, he put his gun back in its holster and carefully pulled her into his arms, trying to ignore her absolute lack of resistance. It was then that he noticed the box at her feet. Without putting her down he managed to kick off the lid. Inside was an empty syringe atop red material. He didn’t have the time to look in any more detail. There was no guarantee that what she had been injected with was the same drug as the others. Sophia needed help as soon as possible. Braydon refused to lose her.