by Ron Ripley
The One tilted his head back, mouth open in what Linda assumed was a laugh. He nodded then and beckoned the messenger to him. The unknown woman took a hesitant step towards him. Linda looked from her to the emaciated dead around the boy, and then back to the messenger.
Then Linda lifted the pistol, put the barrel where the twin had shown her, and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 31: A Chat with David
David accepted a cigarette from Shane and glanced up the stairs, asking, “How is he?”
“I don’t know,” Shane answered, motioning towards the open door of the study.
They entered the room in silence, sitting down in chairs across from one another and smoking their cigarettes.
Shane exhaled and let the smoke out through his nose. After several moments he said, “I’ve stitched up the worst of the cuts.”
David raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t take him to a doctor?”
Shane snorted and shook his head. “I’ve done enough emergency field medicine to do some stitches. No, the only injury I’m concerned about is his hearing.”
David lowered his cigarette and said, “Come again?”
"From what Eloise told me," Shane said, "when Frank broke the mirror and released Lisbeth, there was a huge blast of air. Some sort of pressure. Lisbeth is gone. Straight on to Hell, I hope. Right now, I’m waiting for her body to be returned to me by the dark ones. Once I have it, I’ll burn the remains. Make sure she’s gone. Anyway, I felt the blast of her release in the library, and when I found the door to Mrs. Henderson's room open, I went in. Frank was coming out of a servant's entrance at the same time. He couldn't hear a word I said. Still can't. I've given him enough whiskey to help him pass out."
“Do you think he needs a doctor?” David asked. “For his hearing?”
“More than likely,” Shane answered. “The better question is, do we have time for it?”
The older man hesitated before he responded, “Probably not.”
“Have you heard from your source at all?” Shane asked.
David shook his head.
“We have an idea as to where the One is supposed to be,” Shane said. “So our only questions are, how bad is he, and where is he exactly?”
“I thought you were looking into that?” David asked.
“I did,” Shane replied. He gave the man a quick recap of what he had read in regards to Samson.
“And he did that as a boy?” David asked in a low voice.
Shane nodded. “Kind of why I want to see what he’s up to now. If he’s strong enough to talk to someone and get them to stay though, well, that’s going to make it a little harder to accomplish.”
Neither of the men spoke for several minutes, Shane finally breaking the silence. “Don’t suppose you have another person you could speak with about this?”
David shook his head. “No, not specifically about the One. Plenty I could call up, but they’d put a bullet in my head as soon as they see me. And that would be them doing me a favor. Best I can do is try and get in touch with my source. I’ll head out in a little while and see what I can do about that. What about you?”
“I’ll check on Frank,” Shane said. “Then wait on you. See what you find out. If anything.”
“Fair enough,” David said, getting to his feet. “I’ll give you a call in a few hours. Let you know what’s going on.”
Shane nodded and waved good-bye as David left the room. A few moments later Shane heard the man drive away. With a sigh, Shane got out of the chair, left the study and went upstairs.
A quick peek into Frank’s room showed the man was asleep. Nodding to himself, Shane went to the library, gathered up his dog tags and slipped the cold necklace over his head.
“What are you doing?” Courtney asked from the darkness, startling him.
“I need to go check out an area,” Shane replied. “I want you with me.”
She stepped forward, a waxing and waning figure of the woman he loved.
“You’re going after this ‘One,’ aren’t you,” it was a statement, delivered in a flat, angry voice.
Shane shook his head. “I’m going to see if I can find where he is. But I’m not going to confront him. I can’t. Not yet. We need to know the layout though.”
“What about Frank?” Courtney asked. “Why aren’t you taking him with you?”
“He’s hurt,” Shane answered.
“Oh.” His answer had caught her off guard. “Will he be alright?”
“I hope so,” Shane said, the words coming out roughly. He cleared his throat. “I really do. We can’t wait on the One. I think he’s getting stronger with each day.”
“Alright,” she said after a moment. “I’ll go.”
And she vanished, the dog tags growing colder against his chest. The feeling was both comforting and heartbreaking.
Swallowing back his emotions, Shane left the library. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Carl was there.
The dead German had a stern expression on his face as he said in his native tongue, “Where are you going?”
“Out,” Shane answered, disliking the tone of his friend.
“You are leaving Frank alone?” Carl demanded.
“I’m leaving him with you,” Shane snapped. “That’s not alone. Far from it. I expect you and Eloise to watch over him. Especially Eloise. She knew better.”
“And what of Mrs. Henderson?” Carl asked.
“What of her?” Shane responded.
“She bears a burden of responsibility in regards to Frank’s current state, does she not?” Carl said.
“She does in that she commanded Eloise to show Frank the room, but nothing more,” Shane said. “Eloise should have come to me as soon as Frank asked. And I bear some responsibility for it as well. I shouldn’t have kept Lisbeth locked up for so long. But my part is to find out what’s going on in Amherst. You and Eloise are to make sure Frank is okay, and to help him if necessary.”
“You’re taking her,” Carl growled.
“Of course, I am,” Shane answered. “She can travel with me. She’s strong, as you well know. The two of us will be able to get a basic idea of what’s going on, with both the Watchers and Samson.”
For a heartbeat, Carl looked as if he might speak again, but instead, he turned and walked into the hallway's left wall.
Shane felt his shoulder's sag, and his head dropped a fraction of an inch. Then he took a deep breath, straightened up and went into the hall closet. Within was a coded gun safe. He punched in his pass code, pulled the door open, and retrieved his pistol.
It was a Springfield, 1911, .45 caliber semi-automatic. The weapon had been a gift from his unit when he had retired from the Corps.
In silence, Shane removed the trigger lock and retrieved a magazine from the safe. He checked the spring on it, and then removed a box of rounds. Shane loaded the magazine, then slid it into the weapon and chambered a round.
The .45 was heavy in his hand. A weight of responsibility and harsh understanding.
He held death in the form of polished steel, and laser cut grips. A machine designed for the sole purpose of killing.
And he loved it.
Shane took out his holster, put it on his right side, and then made sure the grip safety was in place before he holstered the weapon. He loaded two more magazines and then secured the safe.
Shane slid the magazines into his back pocket, pulled his sweatshirt down over his weapon, and left his house.
It was time to see how many people needed killing.
Chapter 32: David Goes Looking
“Still no word from her?” Marie asked as he helped her into the small TV room.
"No. Nothing," David said. He was worried, and he knew it came through regardless of how hard he tried to keep control of it.
He eased her down onto the couch and then sat in a recliner. As he reached for the remote control for the television, Marie stopped him with a gesture.
“You don’t have to s
tay here with me,” Marie said. “I’m a big girl. I’ll be alright for a while. You need to find out what’s going on with Shirley. Just be careful.”
“I will be,” David replied.
“Good,” Marie said. “Make sure she’s okay and laying low or something.”
David nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”
Within a few minutes, he was out of her apartment and making his way out of the building. When he got to the lobby, he had to stop as a pair of mothers and six screaming children came in the front door.
The harried women saved David’s life.
Beyond the glass doors, David caught sight of a dark blue sedan. An early two thousand model that wasn’t of any particular interest.
Which was why he noticed it.
He saw the driver and stiffened.
It was one of the twins.
Either Jenna or Gabby.
David stayed back, smiling at the mothers and children as they went streaming past him. In a minute he was alone in the lobby, the exterior door closed.
He knew the Watchers didn't suspect his existence. If they had, they would have made every effort to seize him, or at the least, they would have killed him.
But with the twin parked outside it meant that the Watchers had Marie under observation.
Something David should have considered the entire time.
He cursed himself for his own stupidity and thought about what needed to be done. Killing the twin wouldn’t be easy, not in the way Elliot’s death had been. The twins were professionals, and it would be difficult to catch her unaware.
Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, he saw the twin put her phone down and step out of the car. David reached for his pistol, and then remembered he had gotten rid of it after Elliot. He looked around the room, his eyes falling on an abandoned dog leash pinned to a bulletin board.
Without hesitating, he tore it down. He stepped close to the elevator, pressed the down button, and then slipped over to the front door. Standing to the right of it, David waited.
The door to the elevator opened and revealed there were no travelers the same time as the twin walked into the building.
With the leash held stretched between both hands, David looped the leash over the woman’s head.
Her reaction was instant, twisting to the right and dropping down.
David, while he was slower and older, had decades of experience on the young woman. He snapped the leash tight, instantly cutting off her oxygen before she could get a hand up between the woven fabric and her neck. With a grunt, he hauled her into the elevator, slamming her into the wall as the door was closing behind them.
The twin fought, twisting and clawing at him with one hand, the other reaching for a weapon. David ignored the pain as it blossomed in various parts of his body, and smashed her head into the wall, stunning her.
He leaned over and hit the emergency stop with his elbow.
Without knowing whether or not the stop was tied in with an emergency alarm system, David tightened the leash.
The twin whipped up, arms striking at him. She hit him twice in the side of the head, causing him to stagger into the back of the wall. The leash loosened and she twisted around, driving a knee up towards his groin. He shifted his right thigh and took the blow on the muscle.
“You!” she snarled. She slipped a hand up between the leash and her neck while she drove a fist into his ribs.
David grunted, bent to the right and he snapped a quick punch into her larynx.
She dropped her weight down as she gasped, and her hand slipped away from the leash.
David tightened the leash again, trying to twist her around and away from him. She fought, punching him in the knee. Pain exploded in the joint and he dropped to the floor. Her hand came up towards his face, fingers searching for his eyes.
David, with a last surge of strength, got behind her once more and twisted the leash. Her blows missed as he kept the pressure up. He recovered his breath, ignored his pain and watched without pleasure or satisfaction as her efforts to fight back slowed, then stopped. Slowly her tongue protruded from her mouth, and her eyes bulged.
For several minutes, he continued the pressure until he was certain there was no way for her to have survived the attack.
When he loosened the tension on the leash her head lolled to the left, and she collapsed to the floor.
David stared down at the body, then, with a great deal of stiffness in his hands and his damaged body. He slipped the leash off her neck and freed his hands from it as well.
With the improvised garrote hanging from one hand, David wondered how he would dispose of the newly minted corpse.
Chapter 33: Nothing Works the Way It Should
Clair had watched Shirley deliver the message to the One.
The One had accepted the offer from the Watchers, with Shirley serving as the coin of the realm. She was to be another soul upon which the One could feed.
And then Linda had ruined it.
Perhaps, Clair thought with bitter hindsight, I should have told Linda the purpose of Shirley Coleman as the messenger.
Clair shook the thought away.
The One’s reaction to the destruction of his gift had been unpleasant, it had been expensive. Instead of one member of the organization, Clair had also lost another three-person team.
Yet he had agreed to accept the delivery of sacrifices.
Clair’s intercom buzzed and interrupted her train of thought.
Frowning, she reached out, pressed the button, and asked, “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Kevin, her new secretary, said. “There’s a woman named Gabby here to see you. She said it’s important.”
Clair held back her anger as she said, “Fine. Tell her she can come in.”
A few seconds later, Gabby stormed into the room, slamming the door behind her. The woman’s face was a mask of rage, spittle gathering at the corners of her mouth.
“What in God’s name is going on?” Clair demanded.
“She’s gone!” Gabby yelled, kicking a chair across the room. “My sister’s gone!”
“What?” Clair asked. “Where did she go?”
“She’s dead,” Gabby hissed. “Someone murdered her. I just got a call from the Nashua Police. They just fished her body out of a dumpster in the back of the high school!”
Clair was too stunned to respond.
Gabby threw herself into a chair and shuddered.
“Did they tell you anything?” Clair managed to say after a minute.
Gabby shook her head. “No. I went and identified her body. Whoever killed her knew what the hell they were doing.”
“How did she die?” Clair asked, still trying to get a grasp on the situation.
"Strangled," Gabby spat. "They tried to hide the marks, but I spotted them. This was no half-done job. No hesitation. A damned professional!”
“Could it have been the detective she was watching?” Clair asked.
Gabby shook her head. “No. No way it was her. That detective still has to use a walker to get around. Impossible for her to choke out my sister.”
“Boyfriend?” Clair asked.
“Had to have been,” Gabby said. “I went up to the apartment.”
“What?!” Clair asked. “You did what?”
Gabby pointed a thin finger at her and said, “Shut up. I don’t care if you are the boss. This was my sister. Yeah, I went up to the apartment. I knocked on the door. Nobody answered. I broke in. The detective left in a hurry. Most of her clothes and stuff are there. Looks like there was a man staying there too. Deodorant. Shaving gear. All men’s scents. They were in the spare bedroom.”
“Do you think they went to Shane’s?” Clair asked.
“Maybe,” Gabby said, nodding. “We can’t risk putting anyone else there. Not since Elliot was ventilated.”
“No,” Clair agreed. “But I don’t want them watched. I want them erased. Scrubbed from the face of the damned planet.”
&
nbsp; Eagerness mingled with Gabby's rage-filled expression.
“How do you want to do it?” Gabby asked in a low voice. “We lost a team.”
“We do it the same way,” Clair replied. “With ghosts of our own.”
Chapter 34: A Painful Awakening
Agony launched Frank out of sleep, or unconsciousness, he wasn’t sure which.
He was no longer in whatever state he had been in, and he was miserable.
His entire body throbbed, pulsed, and screamed. Sitting up brought tears to his eyes, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Stars exploded around the edges of his vision, and he shuddered while he tried to remember what had happened.
The memories were dim.
A circular room and a mirror. Lisbeth bound within.
And breaking the glass.
Frank dropped his chin to his chest and sighed, instantly regretting it as the pain went lancing through his lungs.
Every part of him screamed to lie back down, to surrender to the pain, and pass out.
But the same drive, discipline, and determination that had helped him pass the selection course for Special Forces required him to stay upright. So he did.
Frank took deep breaths until the pain was manageable. He reached out and turned on the light. He cringed as light filled the room, a headache bursting into life.
His skin felt stretched as if someone had pinned it back. When he looked at his arms, he saw they were wrapped in bandages, his face, when he touched it, was tender and sore.
“Damn,” he muttered.
But he heard nothing.
It took him a moment to realize he hadn’t heard his own voice, and when he understood what the lack of sound meant, his heart began to race.
Frank cleared his throat and spoke again.
And again.
And once more.
Nothing.
Not a single sound.
Panic rose up, and he crushed it, without mercy.
It’s probably not permanent, he told himself. It can’t be. Look at Marie. She’s recovering. This is temporary. Nothing more and nothing less.
