by S A Ison
She looked out the window. The sun was just coming up. She yawned and stretched. Her brain was fried and she needed a few hours of shut-eye. Widget sauntered into the kitchen and Hellen picked her up. She nuzzled the cat and carried her into the bedroom, sat at the edge of the bed, and stretched. It was a very good night.
She had taken an old broom and had swept her way out of the warehouse, just in case she’d left any footprints, human or werewolf. She was sure they’d wonder about the saliva found on Cleves’ head. Or not…there was a lot of blood. The lab results would come back as canine or wolf.
She got under the covers and Widget settled beside her. She stroked the cat’s head until her eyes grew heavy.
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Hellen approached the car. Hoyd and Duncan were inside. She had her clippers and a baggie at her hip, her Beretta Nano with the suppressor attached in her hand. She’d kill them quickly and take their bones. She waited a moment until a car passed then she walked up quickly to the car. The windows were down and cigarette smoke drifted out. She scanned the area and didn’t see anyone, then stopped at the window and looked in. Both men looked at her, curious, and she smiled. Bringing the weapon up, she shot both men before they could react, reached in, and snipped off the tips of their fingers. Down between one man’s legs was a brown paper bag. She reached down and opened it. Money. She took the bag.
Looking around, Hell turned and walked away. Less than thirty seconds. Her heart was hammering and the adrenaline was pumping through her. This street had people coming and going but there was a lull. She’d seen the window of opportunity and taken it. She was now headed for Thomas’ apartment.
Earlier, she’d found Jessy. She’d found him out in his garage, working on a truck. It was a quick in and out. Jessy was connected to Parker and a man named Quinn. That was the human trafficking side of the house.
Cleves said that Thomas lived alone, but that sometimes he had friends over to get high. Collateral damage. She was hitting Ellsworth’s people hard tonight, taking out as many as she could before Cleves was discovered. Once that happened, all the garbage would disappear.
Hellen laughed. She wasn’t worried about Ellsworth leaving. He had no money, no assets, and his cars had trackers on them. At the end of the night she’d be calling in the Tulip Park and Myrtle Bay hideaways. She would be taking out Parker and his crew, or as many as she could.
Getting back to her vehicle, Hellen pulled away, careful of all the traffic cams. She hated working so late, but while most were in their beds sleeping, these people were out and about doing their thing. She planned on hunting down Alvin Pouch later and having a long chitchat with him. She needed to know about his whole operation from where he got the donors and where they went to who was on the other end of that chain.
She’d spent several hours on the computer looking up information and locations and verifying Cleves’ information.
She had plenty of coffee before she’d left out. Wanda and Miriam were over earlier that evening. They’d brought her dinner.
“You’re not eating as well as you should, Hellen. You’ve been sleeping most of the days away while you are out all night. We’re making sure you don’t run out of gas.”
Wanda had filled her plate with hot fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, coleslaw and fresh hot buttered rolls. By the time dinner was over, Hellen felt as though she might succumb to a food coma. Miriam had insisted she take a nap before she went out, and Hellen hadn’t argued. She wondered if they’d planned that, but when she got up from the nap just after seven, she’d felt better. It had taken several cups of black coffee to revive her.
She smiled to herself. Her days were filled with their presence and she was becoming used to their soft chatter. Even while she slept during the day, she knew they were in her house. It had surprised Hellen that she wasn’t as bothered as before. Their presence had become routine and comforting. She didn’t mind and it was nice to wake up and have coffee and some kind of baked goodie waiting for her.
Hell turned down the road on the last leg of her journey to Thomas’ place. She parked a block down the street and got out. There were no lights on in his second floor apartment. She hoped he was home. She checked her weapon and changed out the magazine. She wanted a full load. She had an extra mag in her back pocket as well.
Keeping to the shadows, Hellen moved toward the apartment building. She didn’t see any security cameras and moved to the stairwell, creeping along until she came to Thomas’ door. She listened and heard nothing from within. She tried the door but it was locked. Pulling out her lockpick tools, she quickly unlocked the door and slipped inside. She stood for a long moment, listening and scenting the air. It stunk badly. She was now able to identify the rank stench of meth. She could see into the kitchen and thought Thomas had a small meth making operation. She was sure Ellsworth didn’t know about that. Tsk tsk.
She noted the body on the couch. Male. She walked over and shot him in the head. Then she moved to the bedrooms. There were only two and one was empty. There were two people in the next bedroom, a woman and a man. She shot them both and clipped each of their fingers. Going back into the living room, she cut the man’s finger as well. She searched the place quickly. She found several bundles of money. She’d add that to her collection. Hellen turned and walked out the door.
She next drove to a house in the northernmost suburbs of Charlotte where Ray and Deets shared a house. Cleves didn’t think there were any family members there, though he’d not been totally certain. There were several dogs in the neighborhood that barked as her car drove past. It was a rundown neighborhood, and trash was scattered in the yards. The house she found had a chain-link fence. The lights were out and Hell headed around back. Her ears picked up no sounds. She tried the back door and it was unlocked. She opened it and stepped in. The hair went up on her body when she heard something coming rapidly. The toenails told her it was a dog. She wasn’t happy about it, but she raised her weapon. A second later, a massive pit bull came tearing into the kitchen. She shot it in the head and it fell and slid toward her. Hellen waited. Nothing.
She was glad the dog hadn’t barked. She wondered if Cleves knew about the dog. Maybe not. She didn’t think all of these people were buddy-buddy. Still, she hated putting the animal down. There was a thick spiked collar around the dog’s neck. She wondered if they used the animal as a weapon. Going into the living room, she saw three people laying on the floor. There was a bong and it stunk in the house. The couch was torn up and trash was strewn about. How could people live in such filth? She shivered with revulsion.
She stepped forward and the floor creaked. A man sat up slowly, his body swaying. She shot him first, then the others. She moved quickly and checked each of the rooms. No one else was there. They must have been partying and passed out in the living room. She searched around and found stashes of cash in drawers, in the freezer, and under the couch. Finding a plastic shopping bag, she dumped the money into it.
Hell would put all the cash into the washing machine and do a delicate wash. This stuff was so nasty she was afraid to touch it with her bare hands. She clipped the fingers of all and took a last look before she left. On her way through the kitchen, she looked down at the dog with regret.
Hellen went back to the car, aware she had to pick up her pace. She was falling behind schedule. Neil was next on her list. Then she’d head to Tulip Park and Myrtle Bay.
She wished she had coffee and knew she should have brought a thermos. She pulled onto the interstate and drove fast. It would cut off some time. Twenty minutes later she got off the interstate and drove to another apartment complex in a depressed side of Charlotte. There were many urban centers that were badly losing the battle against drugs. She took note of a dealer standing in the shadows on a corner, making a mental note to get him on her way out. She pulled to the back of the apartment complex. Turning off the engine, she sat for a moment.
She heard a horn in the distance but little else. It was neari
ng three a.m., the heaviest sleep period. She slipped into the back entrance to the building, looking for security cameras. She doubted that any were active. There was graffiti sprayed on the walls, and the glass was broken to the back door.
The heavy scent of urine permeated the entire bottom floor. It was a five-story apartment building, with trash scattered along the stairs. Neil was on the top floor. She headed up, stopping to listen. When she reached the top floor she hurried down to his apartment. She took out her lockpick tools and was inside the apartment in less than thirty seconds. She stood for a long moment, her weapon out and looking for dogs. Nothing. The apartment was relatively clean, especially compared to what she’d come across. She looked in one room and saw a child sleeping in a bed.
Shit.
Cleves hadn’t mentioned a child. She shut the door quietly and moved to the other bedroom, where she saw two forms. One was a woman, the other a man. Cleves said Neil was bald with a heavy beard. The man in the bed matched the description.
Hellen chewed on her bottom lip. She had to kill the man but she wasn’t willing to kill the woman. The woman may well be ignorant of Neil’s operation. Hellen shot the man in the head and stepped forward to cut his finger off, freezing when the woman snuffled and shifted. For long seconds Hellen waited. The woman settled down and soft snores began to emanate from her. Clipping the finger, Hellen left the apartment and drove away from the scene. There was no telling when the woman would wake to find her man dead.
Hellen cursed Cleves. She didn’t know if he knew about the woman and child or not. It didn’t matter, it was done. She got to her vehicle in short order and looked at the time.
Shit.
She would only have time to get to either Tulip Park or Myrtle Bay, not enough time to do both. Cleves thought that Parker would be at Tulip Park. She’d head there and hope for the best. She would call in Myrtle Bay, telling the authorities that there were girls being held prisoner there. As much as she wanted to kill them all, Hellen understood the reality of it. Some might get away, but she would eventually find them all or kill enough of them that they might think of another line of work.
She got back on the road. She would have to hurry. Each had taken a lot more time than she liked.
When she got to Tulip Park, it looked like an abandoned factory. She had it in her mind that it was a park, as in with trees and such, but it was an industrial park. There were abandoned buildings around. Cleves hadn’t known which building held the girls. Hell cursed the man anew. Well, she’d lied to him, she hadn’t killed him quickly. She shrugged. It all evened out in the end.
Standing in the dark for a long moment, she scanned each of the derelict buildings. Then she saw a truck parked behind one of them. Oh, okay. She ran at a slow trot to the building, walked around it, and scented the air. She walked up to the truck and saw a man inside, asleep. He cradled an AR15 in his arms.
Well, well.
She smiled. She opened the truck’s door with her weapon raised.
The man jerked awake and struggle to get his weapon up.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said, placing the barrel of her suppressor to his head. He froze, his hands suspended above his weapon that was now slipping to the floor.
“What’s your name?”
“Quinn.” His eyes were large and looking at the weapon and not her.
“Is Parker here?” she asked and his eyes shot to her.
“No?” Quinn said.
“So you don’t know if he’s here or not?”
“No. He ain’t.”
“Where is he? His address and what kind of vehicle does he drive? Lie to me and I’ll make sure you regret it,” she said, allowing her eyes to glow golden.
Quinn jerked back, a scream in his throat. He stuttered out the address, his voice shaking badly.
“How many girls below?” she asked, nodding her head to the building.
“Twelve.”
“Anyone else in there with them?”
“Just Ginger.” He swallowed audibly.
Hellen pulled the trigger and felt the warm spray of blood on her face. She patted Quinn down and found a cellphone. She’d call the police once she checked the building.
There was a heavy lock on the door. She took out her lockpick tools and opened the lock, peeked inside, and scented the air. It was acrid, the smell of fear permeating the whole structure.
She didn’t have a whole lot of time and she wanted to get a tracker on Parker’s vehicle. She would need to question him at a later time. She found another stairwell and a lock on that as well. She opened the lock and carefully crept below. She heard nothing but the smell of humans was strong. Unwashed bodies. She saw a woman asleep on a cot. There were large cages around and Hell took note of the sleeping occupants of the cages. All appeared to be young girls, preteens and teens.
She shot the sleeping woman, presumably Ginger, in the head and then bent to clip her finger off. She headed back upstairs, rage moving through her blood. She couldn’t imagine what fate awaited those girls if she hadn’t intervened.
She walked over to Quinn’s truck and took his phone. She dialed 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I just shot two people. There are twelve girls in cages below. Human trafficking. Go to Myrtle Bay, there are more girls being held there. Go now and go fast.”
Hellen hung up. She’d altered her voice, bringing the werewolf forward. No matter how hard they tried to analyze her voice, they’d never find out who she was. The deep timbre of the voice was male and it was guttural. It would sound like a man attempting to alter his voice.
She added Quinn’s fingertip to Ginger’s and walked back to her vehicle. The police would be here in roughly five minutes or less, depending on the nearest patrol vehicle. She needed to get out quick and head to Parker’s place. If she didn’t get the tracker on his car, he could end up disappearing into the wind and that wasn’t good.
Hellen started her car and pulled away, hearing sirens in the distance. She moved to a side street and picked up speed. Within a minute, she was out of the area and away from the coalescing police cars. A soft smile flitted over her face. Those children would be traumatized no doubt, but she was hoping that their lives would be oh so much better once they were taken out of that hell hole.
A peace settled over Hellen. It was the same peace that had suffused her when she’d killed those people from the orphanage. Satisfaction really. The world was awash with evil; she was simply a small equalizer.
It was getting near dawn when she pulled into a large neighborhood. She saw the red Silverado that Quinn had mentioned. She pulled up and got out. All was quiet. She slipped the tracker under the truck bed, jumped back in her car, and left. She was pretty sure people were beginning to get up for work. It wouldn’t take a lot for someone to see her vehicle. Though still dark, they’d notice a figure dressed in all black. Very suspicious.
Hellen glanced around at the windows but saw no lights on. She let out a breath and headed home. While it hadn’t gone as smoothly as she preferred, she had taken out a large majority and had picked up quite a few bones. Perhaps she’d get a decorative jar and put them in it once she finished.
She could always add to it as she spent her time hunting down the predators. Maybe she’d have the ladies help her make something? They were very crafty and she thought they’d like to contribute.
She shook her head. She was becoming pathetic. She’d never needed anyone before, yet she found herself looking forward to their company. Even silly Nora. Hell yawned and her jaw cracked. She would sit back and wait and see what happened. There was going to be a lot of police activity out there and she didn’t need to be seen for a while.
She had trackers on Ellsworth and Parker, and could hunt down Alvin Pouch. She had his information and would do a bit more snooping. She laughed out loud as she pulled into her drive. Ellsworth was going to lose his shit. No money, and now, no income or cashflow. She’d spe
nt the last few days composing a letter to his real estate agency.
Hellen had falsified arrest documents with old mug shots of Ellsworth. She’d found some of the information in the archived database. It was tedious work, and had taken nearly seventeen hours of searching, but she’d found them. She was going to send the CEO of BB Carolina Real Estate Company the bogus arrest documents.
The owner, Byron Blithers, looked like a pinched face man with a reluctant smile. She was sure when Blithers received the email, he’d find a way to fire Ellsworth.
She was addressing it from a concerned citizen and customer of the company. Hellen was threatening to go to the local papers and news outlets to report Ellsworth and the BB Carolina Real Estate Company. Hell was sure that Mr. Blithers would not wish his company dragged through the mud.
She got out of her car, stripped off her garments, threw the gloves and plastic sheet into the trash, and then walked it out to the curb. It was trash day today and she’d be rid of all the evidence.
It had been one hell of a night. So many targets but she’d done it.
She went over the vehicle with the spray to detect any blood droplets. Using the UV light, she saw none. She went into the house and stripped down, placed the clothing into the wash, and added cleaning formula to the water. The enzymes would destroy any blood particulates.
She went to the shower and washed up. She wanted nothing more than to head to bed, but she needed to boil the bones. Filling the pot with water, she placed the fingertips into the pot. She glanced at Widget, who was moving in and out of her legs.
“Let me feed you. No fingers for you, little lady.” Hell opened a can of cat food and Widget nudged her out of the way.
“Some thanks I get,” Hellen grumped.
She picked up her laptop and sat at the kitchen table. Widget’s purring was loud. Hellen extended her leg and rubbed her toes on the cat’s head. She called up the file for Ellsworth and his police record. He’d had it wiped and so her fictional arrest paperwork had to be close to the truth. Prostitution, rape, and drugs. Ugly crimes. She was sure when Blithers opened his email this morning, he’d have a shit fit. She wondered if the man would call the police or have someone escort Ellsworth off the premises. The building he worked in was in the middle of Charlotte and one of the nicest high-rises.
