by LC Champlin
The kids looked down, depression killing their elation.
Nathan’s radio hissed. “Nathan, this is the shore watch. We’ve been keeping an eye on the far shore of North Redwood like you said. There’s a boat. It’s docking by the elementary school on the end of the peninsula. Three people and a dog just got out.”
Bingo. “Can you tell who it is?”
“No, they’re wearing black. I can barely make them out by the moonlight.”
Radio crackle: “Serebus, this is Sarge. Do you copy?”
“I copy. Go ahead.”
“We have three men and a dog getting out of a low-profile boat. They’re on the north shore.”
“Is it Albin and the other deserters?”
“Uncertain. One of them is heading southwest.” Pause. “He’s coming past Radio Point. It looks like he’s heading for your side. Stand by.”
In the following pause, Nathan slowed to a halt at the intersection of Marlin and Redwood Shores. “Keep an eye on them. I’ll be there soon. What intersection can I cut him off at?”
“Breakwater and Shearwater in the north.”
Nathan turned to meet his passengers’ wondering gazes. “If you’re willing, you can be a great help with what I’m about to do.”
“Are you going to catch that guy?” Angry Cat looked ready to tackle the task and the intruder herself.
Goth leaned forward. “Is he with your former friend, the one who fucked up Redwood North?”
“So it would seem, but I need to be certain.”
“What are you going to do to him?” asked Marlin’s Defender, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear. “Are you going to take him prisoner?” she asked brightly.
“If at all possible, yes.” Nathan’s heart rate picked up. At last, an opportunity to contact Albin. Damn the frustration of being both hunter and hunted. Soon Albin would have the honor of experiencing it too.
Nathan pulled into the neighborhood, waving to the sentry. The youths hunkered down out of view.
“He’s heading down Redwood Shores Parkway.” Sarge sounded bored. “We can kill him if you want. It wouldn’t be difficult.”
Shut up, idiot! “I want him alive. And I want to take him myself; I prefer to keep blood off my streets.”
“Huh. Have fun with that.”
“I can handle him.”
Sarge didn’t know whom he dealt with. When the time came, if the situation proved opportune, the bastard would pay for his sins. Kidnapping, murdering, terrorizing—they demanded punishment.
The Acura slowed. Halfway down Davit Lane, Nathan cut the engine. “I need you all to spread out like you’re playing hide and seek. Don’t engage him, just find him and keep an eye on him. Follow him. Eventually we’ll track him down and corner him. At that point, I will take over. As I said, I want him alive. Albin and his cohorts have done despicable things, but I still want to speak with him face to face one last time.”
“‘One last time’? What are you going to do?” Arms crossed, Goth eyed him.
The two younger teens, who had remained silent throughout, looked nervous. They murmured between each other.
“I’ll turn him over to the authorities, of course.” Nathan smiled. They didn’t understand that he represented the only authority here. The Bay Area had returned to its Wild West roots. And no sheriff ran this town.
“Taylor,” he added, “stay here, please. Watch the vehicle.”
“Okay.” Again her feet occupied her attention.
The group exited, then dispersed. They remained weaponless save for close-range tools like hammers and a few bats from the SUV. They wouldn’t need them. If they did, they would only use them for show.
Nathan set off in the direction of Breakwater. “Sarge, where is he?”
“Those seven people are you and your team, right?”
Him and his teens. “Yes.”
“Keep going straight. He’s stopped. It looks like he’s looking around.” Albin couldn’t hide from infrared optics.
Darkness shrouded Nathan, cool and comfortable. A cloud slid across the full moon, deepening the night. “You will fear what hunts in the darkness, traitor.”
Movement ahead. A figure partially emerged from the bushes. He looked up, apparently squinting at house numbers.
Two shapes moved to Nathan’s right and left. The teens. They spotted Nathan and signaled with a slight wave. He motioned for them to circle around, like a wolf pack moving for the kill. They closed in, keeping close to the houses nearest the interloper.
Nathan settled his hand on his Glock. The figure stepped clear of the bushes. Fuck. Marvin Bridges, judging by the height, build, and movement.
“Can I help you, Marvin?” Nathan asked from the darkness, his tone as welcoming as Mr. Rogers’s.
Chapter 74
Line
Paradise Lost - Hollywood Undead
The economist jumped. Gaping about at the shadows, he fumbled for the pistol at his belt.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Relaxed, hands up, Nathan stepped into the moonlight as the cloud drifted aside. “If you shoot me, you’d better aim well, because I’m wearing a bullet-resistant vest. If you miss me, you could hit a number of innocent people in the houses around me. You might also hit one of these kids.” Nod to indicate the teens who converged on the area.
Marvin stared. “Leave me alone. I just want to get out of here.” His voice trembled.
“Yes, you want to execute one of your classic escapes. Unfortunately, I need you for a moment.”
“Are you going to kidnap me?” The tremor left, outrage replacing it. “I’ll kill you all first. I swear I will!”
Nathan affected confusion. “Why would we kidnap you?”
“Because you’re insane.” Marvin’s gaze flicked left and right in search of escape.
“I’m not going to attack or torture you. Marvin, I’m sorry my meeting with Albin went poorly. I was frustrated, in pain, and desperate.” No lie. He sighed, looking away slightly but keeping Bridges in peripheral vision. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Namely, I give you mercy. “Can you contact him for me? He’s across the channel right now, correct?”
“You just want to attack him again.” Marvin edged backward as he spoke.
“I hate to detain you, but I’m afraid you give me no choice. I need to speak to Albin.”
“Either you let me walk out of here now, or you take me down.” He whipped up his shirt, reaching for the handgun.
Nathan exploded across the four yards to his target. He caught the weapon in his left hand, grabbing the barrel. He slapped the grip and Marvin’s hand into his right palm, hip-level. Wrenching the backstrap of the weapon toward himself to strip it free, Nathan landed a kick in the inside of Marvin’s knee.
Stumbling, the deluded idiot grabbed for the pistol. But the teens jumped forward. Their pack mentality overwhelmed common sense. Marvin went down, curling into a ball to protect himself from the incoming blows.
“Back up!” Nathan roared. He dropped his shoulder to clear a path between the teens and the economist. “Do not hurt him.” A bit late for that, judging by the blood flowing from Marvin’s nose and split lip and puddling on the asphalt.
Planting one knee on the economist’s ribs and the other on his neck, with the captive’s arm bent against Nathan’s chest, Nathan flexed Marvin’s wrist in a lock. The economist cried out, struggling.
More, then. Nathan swung around to straddle the victim’s head with his knees while executing a shoulder lock—twisting Marvin’s arm behind his back over Nathan’s knee. The resistance decreased at the increased pain. The threat of a shredded elbow and rotator cuff improved compliance.
“One of you,” Nathan grunted, maintaining pressure, “get the rope out of my satchel.”
After they fumbled it out, he nodded to the struggling economist. “Tie him up.”
“I thought you weren’t going to hurt me!”
“You decided to escalate the situation. We could have talked this out like sensible people, but you refused.”
When the team finished securing Marvin, he lay still, panting.
“Now what?” Angry Cat asked. She was breathing hard, as were the rest of the teens. Excitement charged their body language. If he didn’t keep them in check, the pack might devolve into rabid beasts, savaging the prey on the ground.
“That’s a good question.” Nathan squatted before Marvin. “What’s your answer?”
It reply, the captive spat blood at his captor, but the droplets fell short. “If you think I’m giving up where we’re staying, you’re crazy. You’re a damn murderer!”
Nathan shook his head, feigning disappointment at the charge. “I haven’t murdered anyone. I killed people in combat, protecting myself and my friends, which included you.”
“You tried to kill Ken—”
“Tried? That’s not murder. Now, it’s up to you to decide what we do with you. If you want us to let you go, we’ll do that. If you want me to have you tortured so you can prove how evil I am, well then, who am I to deny you your fetish?” Nathan smirked. “But in all seriousness, we only tied you up to keep you safe. I wouldn’t want people attacking you, as just happened, when you reach for a weapon.”
“Of course I want to walk out of here. Now untie me and let me go.”
Finger up. “Ah, I didn’t specify when. I need you to contact Albin, remember?”
“That’s not happening.”
“I find it odd that Albin would let you come alone, yet here you are.” Stroking his goatee in exaggerated thought, Nathan looked over his shoulder at his pack. “What do you think? Is he here for a specific reason, or is he just admiring our neighborhood?”
“I think he came here to kill you,” announced Goth, her face dark with suspicion. “Just like that guy who used to be your friend.”
“Anyone else? We have one vote for you coming here to kill me.”
“He’s probably spying for Albin,” Angry Cat speculated.
“I have an idea,” Nathan drawled. “Since Albin doesn’t know you’re here, and I highly doubt you have the balls to kill me, you must be coming here to speak with someone. But who? Was it Badal?”
No change in the economist’s expression.
“No. You don’t know many people here, which leaves . . . Josephine?”
The man on the ground blanched.
“It seems we have a hit. Did you tell Mikhail?”
“Nobody knows where I went.”
“I think they’ll figure it out when they discover your abscence. And I know how we can use that.” He pulled the radio from Marvin’s belt.
“Bastard!”
“That’s ‘magnificent bastard,’ thank you. Now, you can make this easy by contacting Albin, or you make this difficult. No one likes difficult.” Overly friendly smile.
“I’m not drawing him into a trap. I’m no Judas!”
“No, but he’ll deduce you came here. Then his logic will tell him you came to either speak with me or to kill me. Even if he goes to find Badal or Josephine first, he’ll eventually come to the Musters’ house.” Now for audience participation: “Does that sound logical to you all?”
Nods.
Pushing off his knees, Nathan straightened. “Let’s get him up. Hold him tightly, though. He’s a true escape artist.”
Chapter 75
Sinker
Hunt You Down - The Hit House
The teens manhandled Marvin up. Though blood still dribbled from his nose, overall he sustained little damage. No broken bones or ruptured spleen. Hopefully. They hauled him into the SUV with some effort.
Wait . . . “Where’s Taylor?”
“I’m here.” She waved as she emerged from the other side of the vehicle. “I thought you might need help.”
She’d seen and heard everything. Fuck, if she told Amanda, he’d have to waste time convincing her that channeling the teens’ aggression would benefit the neighborhood.
“Taylor, get back in the front seat.”
The rumble of Chas’s Titan resonated in Nathan’s chest. After parking it near the Acura, the teen trotted over. “What’s going on?”
“We got one of the traitors,” Angry Cat responded, smiling as if her High School basketball team had won the state championship.
“Fuck, I wasn’t even here for it!”
“Chas.” Nathan jerked his head toward Marvin, whose right arm he held. “Sit here and keep an eye on him.”
“Got it.”
The hulking jock finished securing his captive in the backseat. As he did, Nathan turned away and drew Marvin’s pistol. Drop the mag, rack the slide. He shucked the rounds out of the magazine. Ammo into a pocket, mag into the firearm, weapon into Chas’s hand. “Here.”
The group split up, Goth opting to drive the Titan to take the two younger teens and Taylor home. “I can handle this stupid truck better than you anyway, brother mine,” she snapped.
Nathan slid into the driver’s seat. When everyone had belted in, he started off. They traveled in tense silence. The teens kept a wary eye on Marvin, who glared at the back of the driver’s seat as if he could impale Nathan with hate.
Soon they arrived at the Nelsons’.
“I thought we were going to the Musters’?” Defender pointed at the house across the street.
“In due time. This is where we kept the cannibals at first. It’s too far to drive down to the storage units, so this will do.” Jeremy’s condition and the painful memories associated with his home prompted him to room with his neighbors.
Back to the captive: “Marvin, if you’re helpful, you’ll get more slack in those ropes. But if you don’t, I’ll just wait for Albin to come looking for you.”
“You fucking douche—”
“I’ll take that as a no. Get him inside.”
Half carrying, half dragging him, they maneuvered the prisoner into the garage. It could hold Dalits, so it could do a fair job for a hogtied human. It didn’t have to last long.
“Now what?” wondered Angry Cat.
“Is that the only thing you know how to ask?” Goth snarked.
“It’s a valid question,” Defender put in.
“Are we going to try to kill that other guy?” Chas cracked his knuckles, teeth bared.
Nathan let out a breath. Careful now. “It’s safe to say we must address the threat Albin Conrad poses. He turned a community against us, which added to their destruction, and he did say he would hunt me down. There’s only one way to hunt, and that’s to kill your prey.”
Defender frowned, worried. “He’s not going to suspect a trap?”
“He has no choice but to walk into it. If he rescues Marvin, I will face him. If he doesn’t come for his so-called friend, he loses face in front of his allies. Either way, I have one of my enemies in my hands.”
++++++++++++
Glock ready, Nathan adjusted his stance beside the Musters’ house, peering between the vehicles that guarded the driveway. Soon the traitor would approach—and enter the line of fire. Failing that, the mercenaries would take over.
“Sarge,” he addressed the radio, “where’s Albin?”
“I have an individual approaching from the north. He’ll reach your area in approximately three minutes.”
“Excellent.” A deer must be lucky many times, but the wolf needed to be lucky only once.
++++++++++++
Making his way toward Keelson Circle, Albin slipped from shadow to shadow, his pistol at low ready. Blast it all, why did that fool Bridges slip off alone into the night?
What an abominable day. The Redwood Shores north side lay in ruins, with cannibal bodies and gore covering the neighborhood. If survivors existed, rescuers could not reach them under the rubble. To make the situation more hopeless, the Redwood Shores residents who arrived had little reason to exert themselves, since the northern
neighborhood had distanced itself from them.
Only Mr. Serebus knew what role he played in their hellish end. The cannibal attack seemed too convenient and too extreme to have arisen from “natural” causes. But surely he could not have sunk to such depths as mass murders. Or could he?
Jim had said not to kill Mr. Serebus. Janine had requested Albin protect her husband. Giving him mercy after he had killed so many—if he had caused the attack—did not seem just, however. But strictly speaking, mercy was neither just nor deserved. “If it were, it would cease to be mercy,” he murmured.
The Musters’ house seemed Bridges’s most likely destination. If the idiot faced Mr. Serebus, he would share the fate of the north-shore residents. Even injured, the dark man proved a formidable enemy.
Across from the Musters’ residence, Albin paused. It stood as a lighter square against the star-spangled night. His skin tingled as if he stood beside a Tesla coil. This is not right.
A thump emanated from the Nelsons’ garage. They likely stored another cannibal there, or perhaps someone’s dog.
Albin crossed the street, approaching the Musters’ house. Weapon ready, he crept to Amanda’s car. Perhaps he should have brought Kuznetsov and Judge with him. They currently waited at the boat.
He sidled along the perimeter of the house, toward Mr. Serebus’s window. He would take the long way, passing Amanda’s room in case the man had switched accommodations.
Albin’s hackles rose. The brush of wings sounded, the whistling of mourning doves
disturbed from their roost.
Movement—He threw himself leftward. Rolling to his feet, he leapt over the meter-high shrubs.
Two gunshots rang. He sprinted down the street, heading toward the rear wall that paralleled Redwood Shores Parkway. They would gun him down if he failed to reach it within the next few heartbeats.
++++++++++++
The bullet struck the fence—the spot Albin’s torso had occupied a nanosecond earlier.
“Bastard!” Sucking breath between clenched teeth, spittle flying, Nathan charged into the street. Gone. Fucking gone!
