Monarchs

by Rainey, Stephen

  The next time she looked up, it was almost completely dark outside. She finally heard a faint moan on the other side of the door, and then the distinct sound of movement.

  Someone began fumbling at the door. She sat upright, all her senses once again alert.

  The door groaned open, revealing only dim light from the other side. Then Ray Surber stepped into view and gave her a long, pensive stare, as if unsure what to do with her. Finally, he stepped inside, and she saw he was carrying a metal cup, evidently from an army mess kit. He lowered it to her lips, and she sipped fresh water, its coolness a balm to her burning throat. When she finished drinking, she leaned away from the cup and nodded. "Thank you," she said, her voice a hoarse croak.

  He set the cup aside, and a second later, a long hunting knife appeared in his hand. Reflexes caused her to draw away from him, but he shook his head, grasped her upper arms, and turned her back to him. She felt the blade sawing through the rope around her wrists, and a moment later, her hands were free. The blood that rushed through her arms and into her hands felt like molten lava. He shifted her so he could cut the bonds around her ankles.

  When she was free and rubbing her aching legs, she looked up at him as a feather of rage tickled her brain. "I couldn't get out of here," she said. "Why did you tie me up?"

  "To protect you."

  "Protect me?"

  "Yep. If you'd been free, you'd have tried to help your girlfriend. You'd have yelled and hammered on the door. Then I'd have had to hurt you."

  "You didn't gag me and I didn't yell."

  "No. With you partly immobile, you were more prone to believing what I told you. And you did. Good girl."

  "I believe you'd kill me."

  "Yep."

  "You still might."

  "Yep."

  She lowered her head, his words barely sinking in. "What did you do to Jan?"

  "Personally, not a thing."

  She heard a rustling sound, and a moment later, Ben appeared, dragging an unconscious, naked Jan with him. He pulled her into the room and dropped her on the floor next to Courtney.

  Livid bruises covered her body, and she was bleeding from between her legs.

  "Bitch," Ben muttered, glaring at Courtney. Then he backed out of the room, his lustful eyes never leaving her figure.

  A large leather-bound book appeared in Ray's hand, and he tossed it onto the floor beside the unconscious young woman. "You're entitled to know why you're here," he said. "If you don't understand what's in it, just ask your friend when she wakes up."

  "It's dark," Courtney said, her voice cracking. "I can't see it."

  "You will," came Ben's voice. A second later, he reappeared, carrying a small, battery-powered lantern. He placed it next to the book. "You two got a lot to talk about," he said. "Till later. Then we start up again — on you."

  "I hope it won't come to that," Ray said. "I know you didn't have any part of what they've done. But then sometimes life just isn't fair."

  "She had a part in what they done to Hank," Ben growled. "I wanna fix her myself. George can go fuck himself."

  "We'll see," Ray said, his tone like a stern father's. He leaned down to gaze into her eyes. "You take a good look at what's in that book. Personally, I think you might be the one who can reason with young Mr. Surber and we can avoid any further unpleasantness. But we'll just have to see about that."

  "Isn't it you who's gone beyond reasonable?"

  "Ask your friend."

  With that, Ray and Ben left the little room, bolting the door again behind them. A few moments later, doors slammed, and Ray's car engine started.

  Now, Courtney turned her attention to Jan, who lay so still she might have been dead. Courtney couldn't even see her breathing, though when she leaned close, she could hear a very faint inhaling and exhaling. She pulled the lantern over so she could examine Jan's wounds — most of which appeared to be from blows to her arms, legs, and head. But the blood that ran down her legs was deep red.

  When she touched Jan's forehead, it was clammy and cold. A moment later, though, Jan groaned and her eyes flickered open. They searched for focus for several seconds before falling on Courtney. A faint expression of relief lit Jan's face.

  "Courtney," she whispered. "What's happened?"

  "You're hurt. I don't know how bad."

  Jan's eyes turned inward, and her features registered horror as her memory began to return. "Oh, Christ. There were three of them."

  "I know."

  "I can't feel anything."

  "You're in shock. I don't have anything to give you. I'm sorry."

  Jan nodded slowly. "Ray. He just watched while the others did it. He wouldn't help me. The bastard wouldn't help me."

  "They're sick. They're all sick."

  Jan's eyes went to the ceiling. "They're going to die. They're going to die like Hank."

  Courtney leaned closer to her. "You know who killed Hank?"

  Her eyes shifted in Courtney's direction. "At first, I thought it was David. But…"

  "But it wasn't."

  She shook her head. "Not David. Martha."

  "Martha killed Hank?"

  "Had it done."

  Her heart skipped a beat. Then she nodded to herself. "Martha. She controls the thing."

  "Don't know what she does. She calls it somehow."

  "Her 'singing.'"

  Jan nodded.

  She glanced at the book on the floor and lifted it. The thing weighed a ton, and when she opened it, she saw that it was a handwritten ledger — page after page containing names, Social Security numbers, dates, dollar amounts, transaction numbers. There was no corporate or individual's name to identify its source, but she knew immediately that it had belonged to Jan's father.

  "What does this mean, Jan?"

  "The real books."

  "Real?"

  "Not cooked."

  "What are you telling me?"

  Jan flexed her muscles and pulled herself up on her elbows, grimacing in pain. But she managed to sit upright, propping her back against the wall. For a long time, she stared vacantly at the ledger, her jaw working slowly back and forth. Courtney said nothing, but let Jan try to compose herself.

  Finally, Jan's eyes turned to hers. "Dad…he withheld tax payments…altered loan amounts…fixed land deals. The official company records don't show any of it."

  "He swindled the people that worked for him?"

  Jan nodded. "That's why the Surbers — and others — they took Dad to court, time after time. But he owned the judges."

  "Jesus," Courtney whispered. "So they're taking their revenge on you."

  "Not just that. Before he died, Dad changed. Was going to make good on everything. He made deals to repay what he owed. But then, the accident…"

  "So the Surbers — they weren't actually looking to extort money from your family?"

  Jan shook her head, her expression bitter. "Just wanted what they had coming to them."

  "Why haven't you given it to them?"

  "David. He was going to, until he realized we would be wiped out. Completely wiped out."

  "He went back on his father's word."

  Jan nodded. "He tried to bargain with the others, so they'd take less. A few did. But the Surbers wouldn't budge."

  "Why should they?"

  "You don't understand," Jan said, tears rolling down her cheeks. "We'd be wiped out. Everything gone."

  "What you have was built on lies."

  "But it's all we have."

  "No. You could always start over. Somewhere else, if necessary."

  "Wouldn't work."

  "Yes, it could, Jan."

  She shook her head. "You still don't understand."

  "That's for later," Courtney said, sighing. "Look, I want to see how bad you're hurt."

  Jan laughed harshly. "You're no doctor."

  "I just want to see if you're still bleeding."

  Jan reached down between her legs and wiped at the blood. "It's let up, I think."
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  Courtney took the lantern, swallowed hard, and gently spread Jan's thighs. A thin stream of red still leaked from her raw-looking vagina. Large splotches of purple and blue discolored her inner thighs, and a streak of feces ran down the back of one leg.

  "Oh, God," Courtney said, tears beginning to well again.

  "After they…" Jan shook her head. "They used something big on me," Jan said, her voice barely audible. "A nightstick, I think."

  "I need to get you cleaned up somehow." She looked down at her clothes. She was wearing a slip beneath her skirt, so she stood up, tugged it down, and began wiping Jan's legs with the silky fabric. Jan began to weep like a child.

  "You'll be okay," Courtney said. "We're going to get out of this."

  Jan shook her head. "Oh, honey," she whispered. "They're going to do this to you, too. They almost got into a fight over who gets you first."

  She barely held onto her makeshift towel. Stabbing pains began in her chest and gradually moved toward her stomach.

  I will not throw up.

  "What are they doing now? Do you know?"

  "Going to David. For half a million dollars, they'll let us go."

  "Can he get that kind of money?"

  "Not quickly. But it doesn't matter. I think they're going to kill us anyway."

  "Why?"

  "David will never pay."

  "He must!"

  "She won't let him."

  "Who? Martha?"

  Jan shrugged. Then Courtney detected a vibration — an engine — and after another few seconds, a door closed.

  "They're coming back."

  Jan's hand closed on Courtney's wrist. "You can't let them do this to you. Whatever you have to do, don't let them do it."

  She looked around the little room. There was nothing to use against the men. Just the ledger and the lantern. The little thing was made of plastic. Hardly a viable weapon, but she had nothing else except her hands and feet. She shut off the light, stood up, and positioned herself next to the door, giving herself room to raise the lantern and smash it into the face of anyone who came inside.

  The front door creaked open, and she heard slow footsteps in the other room. Only one of them, she thought. But which one?

  The footsteps paused outside the door, and the bolt slid back. She lifted the lantern and prepared to strike, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold the weapon.

  Slowly, with a baritone sigh, the door swung inward. Courtney held her breath, knowing she had to time the blow perfectly or the opportunity was gone. As soon as the bastard took a step forward…

  Move, you son of a bitch!

  She did not expect a flashlight to flare abruptly to life, its beam burning straight into her eyes, blinding her. Knowing it was futile now, she swung the lantern toward a spot where she hoped the man's head would be.

  All she succeeded in doing was throwing herself off-balance. A strong hand caught her arm, forcing her to drop the lantern, which struck the floor with a crash. A deep voice rumbled, "Damn you!" Then the hand shoved Courtney backward, and her back slammed into the wall with enough force to drive the air from her lungs.

  She recognized the man standing at the door as Ray's brother Dwayne. The one she had first met at Tall Ships.

  Hank and Ben's father.

  "You goddamned twit," Dwayne said, glaring at her with contempt. But when his gaze turned to Jan's figure propped against the wall, her watery eyes boiling with hatred, his face turned ashen. "What the hell is this?"

  Dazed, Courtney gaped stupidly at him for a moment. "You don't know?"

  "Ben did this, didn't he?" he said, dropping to one knee to inspect Jan's bruises. "That fucking jackass."

  "Not just Ben," Courtney said. "Ray and two others."

  Dwayne swiveled his head, his small, dark eyes brimming with contempt. "My brother Ray?"

  She nodded. "George Tillery and Johnny Spencer were the other two."

  "Son of a bitch!" His voice thundered in the confined space. He rose and drew himself up in front of Courtney, his face so full of fury she thought he might flatten her with one of his huge paws. "Ray and Ben. And those two lame pricks. They did this?"

  "Yes."

  "What if I say you're lying?"

  "She's not lying," Jan said, trying to pull herself upright, getting only as far as her knees before sinking back against the wall.

  "I knew that little bastard was up to something when he drove off," Dwayne muttered, mostly to himself. "But Ray. I never thought he'd do anything like this."

  "Ray orchestrated the whole thing," Courtney said, unable to resist shoving the knife in deeper. "I'm sure of it."

  Dwayne spun and aimed his finger at her face, just as his brother had. "You shut the hell up. And keep it shut. I gotta think."

  "How about just letting us out of here? If you're not involved in this, you don't want to be."

  The back of his hand swatted her hard across her cheek, and she saw stars. "Do you listen? Shut. The fuck. Up."

  Defeated, she nodded, but now she felt an ounce of hope that they might yet get out of this alive. Apparently, her suspicions about Dwayne Surber had been wrong.

  The big man looked down at Jan, and something akin to sympathy glinted in his eyes. With a woeful shake of his head, he sighed. "Damn. They hurt you pretty bad." To Courtney, he said, "They do anything to you?"

  "Not like that."

  "They plan to come back for her," Jan said.

  He looked back at Jan. "I reckon Ben being tore up about his brother might make him do crazy things. I got a hard time believing this about Ray, though."

  "It's true," Jan said, her voice nearly gone. "And they could be back anytime."

  "Well, it's over, far as they're concerned. We got our own issues, Jan, and we're gonna deal with them yet. But not like this."

  "Can you just get us out of here?" Courtney said, drawing back from him a little.

  He glared at her. "Yeah. We're getting out of here."

  "Thank you."

  He knelt next to Jan and slipped a muscular arm behind her head. "I'm gonna lift you up. Can you stand on your own?"

  "I don't know. I'll try."

  He gently drew her to her feet, and she wobbled for a moment before finding her balance. "You'll have to help me," she said, her voice quavering with shame.

  Dwayne nodded, took hold of her biceps, and began guiding her out of the room. "Where'd they put your clothes?" he asked.

  "In there somewhere."

  "I'll look," Courtney said, and slipped past him to search the dark room. She found them in a bundle in a corner, and there was blood and feces on the floor near them. Jan's blouse was in shreds, but her jeans appeared intact. No sign of her underwear or shoes. "Let me help her into these," she said to Dwayne.

  He nodded. "I got an old jacket in the car she can put on. I'll go get it." He eased Jan into a once-plush chair near the front door and left her in Courtney's care.

  She carefully lifted Jan's legs and slid them into her pants. Jan managed to pull them all the way on and fasten them. "Thanks," she said. "God, I'm starting to feel it."

  "We've got to get you to the hospital. Where is it?"

  "There's an urgent care center out on the highway. The nearest emergency room is in Elizabeth City."

  "Jesus. That's a haul, but I say we take you there. I don't like these jack-in-the-box doctors."

  "The urgent care will do. I know a couple of the doctors there."

  "Whatever. As long as we can get help for you."

  Dwayne came back through the door carrying a camouflaged hunting jacket, which he slipped over Jan's shoulders. He threw a nervous glance back through the open front door. "I think somebody's out there."

  Courtney froze. "Somebody?"

  "Sounded like footsteps in the woods. Heavy ones."

  Icy fingers again crawled up and down her spine.

  Could she reveal her fear of the Monarch to Dwayne? Good God — he'd think she was so crazy he'd probably tie he
r up himself. But now, her every instinct assured her that their lives depended on getting out of here as quickly as possible.

  "We've got to go," she said, and with all her strength pulled Jan to her feet. "Come on. Let's get to Dwayne's car."

  He eyed her curiously but did not protest or question her. Together they supported Jan and half-dragged her out to Dwayne's vehicle — an old, weathered Land Rover. "She can lie in the backseat," he said. "You ride up front."

  "I should stay with her."

  "Up front."

  There was no point in arguing, so once they had Jan settled in the back, Courtney climbed into the passenger seat beside Dwayne. Her eyes automatically scanned the dark trees around the cabin. She felt Dwayne's gaze boring into her.

  "What are you looking for?"

  She shrugged. "Whoever — or whatever — you heard."

  "Maybe it was nothing."

  "Maybe."

  "You're look mighty spooked for nothing."

  She gave him a hard stare. "You'd be mighty spooked too, after what we've been through."

  He nodded, unconvinced, but much to her relief, he started the engine and began to turn the Land Rover around to drive away from the cabin.

  "What is this place?" she asked.

  He jerked a thumb back at Jan. "Matter of fact, it once belonged to her black woman's family."

  "Arlene?"

  "Yeah."

  "So what brought you out here — if you didn't know anything about what was going on?"

  He grimaced and said nothing for a time as he drove down a narrow, rutted track through a tunnel of towering trees. The Land Rover bounced and splashed its way through darkness so thick the headlights barely penetrated it. At last, he said, "I got a call from somebody. Don't know who. Said Ben was up to something out here, something bad. I know he uses this place to do drug deals and such. I almost didn't come, but something told me I'd better. That stupid little bastard."

  "He's your son."

  He gave her a stern look. "Listen. Both him and Hank have gone out of their way to be trouble to everybody in this town for a long time now. You think it don't break my heart what's happened to Hank? Well, it does, but I knew that boy was gonna come to a bad end. And Ben's going down that same road." He glanced in the mirror to look at Jan. "And now he's done it."