His eyes roamed across the exposed flesh on Camilla’s arms and legs.
“If you find one, turn back immediately.”
* * *
The sewers swallowed Camilla and Vivian in all its filth and excess. A fluorescent green tinge wavered across the brick tunnels.
So many tempting ladders beckoned Camilla, promising an escape from this treacherous abyss. Brown shapes swarmed across the catwalks, presumably rats disturbed by intruders.
If Vivian was put off by the smells, she balled up that weakness deep inside and crushed it.
Forked tunnels merged into a larger, arched passage toward the Vltava River. Tidal water sloshed across their feet like a hundred thousand creeping fingers. Even stranger hair-like tendrils dangled from the ceiling, but Vivian couldn’t imagine what birthed them. Camilla cringed as she felt the sewage soak into her shoes like cold blades between her toes.
“I don’t suppose you could give me a piggyback ride through the congealed sewage?”
“Ha! Don’t even go there.”
The touch of 1850s architectural ingenuity was rich in the sewers—along with the incense of decay. Camilla eyeballed ancient machinery once used to manually open floodgates weighing over several tons. They silently trod down a side tunnel only two feet in width, leading to a dead end with rusted manholes.
“So Mikhael heard a woman crying?” Camilla asked.
“Supposedly. Mikhael lost his parents in a train crash during last year’s earthquake. According to Joakim, he’s been searching for his parents ever since.”
“If I heard someone crying in the sewers, I would be running in the opposite direction.”
“What if you had the chance to see your parents again? Would you still run away?”
“There isn’t any chance of that happening. They’re dead.”
“So are Mikhael’s, but that doesn’t stop him.”
They stopped short of immense doors inset with valves splayed like gigantic iron webs.
“The floodgates,” Camilla murmured. “It leads to the Vltava River.”
“Do you think the city still uses the sewers?”
“These sewer lines have been cut off for over seventy years. Now the sewers have been abandoned to scavengers.”
“I suppose we all have to make the best of shitty situations.”
“Yeah, literally.”
Just as they turned to follow the catwalk, Camilla stumbled in the dark. Instead of collapsing in the water, she landed in an array of soiled blankets, trinkets, and dirty bottles. She scrambled to her feet before something could scamper out from under the blankets and maul her.
“I’m fine,” she said, brushing off her clothes.
Components from defunct machinery littered the scavenger campsite. Among all the trash hoarded, one object in particular gleaned their attention. A small rowboat was bobbing in the inky water.
“Well, come on,” Camilla chirped, eagerly taking the paddle.
“Someone’s feeling adventurous.”
“Is tramping through the sewers your idea of adventure? I just want to leave before the scavengers come out to play.”
Cutting the rope tethering the boat to shore, they drifted into oblivion. Vivian craned her head to the ceiling, half-expecting to see stars populating the darkness. While the night was eternal in the sewers, no light would ever grace these depths. Vivian had no way to guide them to safety—not that she could read the stars in the first place. She almost didn’t realize they reached solid ground until the boat rumbled to a stop.
Camilla silently pointed at something.
Through the menacing shadows, Vivian saw a ladder descending into a pit. That hole seemed to erode the floor, drawing her in one step at a time. Her hands traced the ladder as she lowered into the sewer basement.
Water dripped from the pipes in the honeycomb of foul chambers. The shape of a little boy was huddled on the floor.
“Mikhael!” Vivian screamed. The boy unfolded from his fetal position, his eyes glistening with tears. In one fluid motion, he sprang up and ran toward Vivian’s open arms. He collided against her with the force of a blow, squeezing her tight.
“Mikhael! You shouldn’t be down here!”
“How did he get across the water?” Camilla exclaimed. The trembling boy pointed at a pair of vaulted doors, but no words escaped him.
Camilla hesitated and ventured toward the entrance.
“Don’t!” She turned around to see the ferocity in Vivian’s eyes. “Camilla, will you take him back?”
“What about you?” She retreated as Vivian drew the gun from her waistband.
“I’ll be okay. Just get him out of here.” Without a word of protest, Camilla seized the boy’s hand and ushered him toward the tunnels.
“Promise you won’t venture ahead until I come back, okay?” her voice echoed.
“I’ll be careful.” Their gangly shadows disappeared beyond the tunnel and Vivian reluctantly faced the doors. Seizing the rusted valve in her hands, she expelled every ounce of strength just to turn it an inch. “Damn it,” she grunted as the valve stuck. It growled and she felt the vault give way. The doors swung inward and a tide of black water pulsed out of the room, lapping at her calves.
She staggered inside, trying to find her footing among the raw sludge.
“No…”
Her pupils dilated in the eerie light, and strange images swam before her. A figure was kneeling perfectly still on the floor. Her arms were bound behind her with barbed wire, its rust fusing with her blood in an exquisite color. Her head was oddly shaped, and something fleshy stretched from her to the ceiling. Only then did she realize a gas mask encased her head. The horrible stench of sewage assaulted Vivian.
A hose was rigged up to the sewer system, entangled among pipes that spanned the ceiling like capillaries. The girl’s body convulsed with such violence. At once, Vivian realized what was happening to her. She dashed toward the woman and squeezed the hose to prevent the influx of sewage. Vivian tore at the device, trying desperately to pry it from the contours of her face.
“Stop it!” she yelled futilely. “Get off her!”
The gas mask finally slipped free, and Vivian staggered back when she saw the woman’s face. A dental gag forced her jaws wide apart with its spindly, metallic limbs.
Vivian’s skin prickled and a sinking nausea attacked her. She could barely breathe as those oily, black eyes pierced hers.
Vivian looked down at her shaking hands as the initial waves of panic seeped through.
* * *
Nikolai glanced down at his phone as it rang. He would call back once he reviewed his findings from Krista’s autopsy.
After compiling a public profile of Krista based on interviews with her family, friends, and coworkers, she struck him as a typical girl. Young, white, employed, attending college, in a relationship.
Unfortunately, her relationship could be considered anything but typical. Nikolai shook his head in a combination of disbelief and amusement. No matter how many years remained of his life, he would never comprehend how Krista hooked up with a subhuman organism like Patrik.
“The sweet naiveté of love,” he smiled.
Police continued to comb the outlying towns for Patrik after he fled Prague. His flight didn’t necessarily indicate a guilty conscience, just the damnable cowardice that stains every abuser.
By all accounts, he was a degenerate who made a profession of bullying others. His path in life led him to become a bouncer for strip clubs.
Courtesy of Patrik, Krista had been summoned to the hospital ER three times over the past nine months. During her last stay, she was treated for several fractured ribs. Her medical records indicated a previous mild concussion and multiple contusions to her arms and face. Yet, something unimaginable compelled her to stay with Patrik.
Warranting further concern, Krista would vanish from the city without a trace. It was as though she dissolved into another world where not even her family could reach
her. If only Nikolai knew what lured her away from home.
The phone pealed angrily, refusing to sit idly on the cradle. He snatched it up and blew out a sigh.
“Hello?”
“Come down to the sewers now!” The command startled Nikolai, lighting the ends of his nerves on fire. “I’m in the sewers under Nádraži Metro! There’s another one!” Vivian yelled. Suddenly, Krista’s autopsy was the furthest thing from his mind.
“What do you mean another one? A fifth victim?”
“Yes! She’s—just get your ass down here! I’m in the sewers!”
“Stay where you are, I’m on my way—”
He looked up to behold a professional-looking woman in the doorway. She cut a stunning figure in tailored pants and a crisp, dark blazer with a white collar popping out underneath. Raven hair tumbled down to her shoulders. Her prominent, green eyes glowed in the sunlight lancing through the blinds. The touch of dark strawberry lipstick dabbed on her mouth did not escape Nikolai either. Reluctant though he was to dismiss such beauty, more important matters awaited him.
“Nikolai Koslov?” The phone landed on the cradle, snuffing out his conversation with Vivian.
“You’ll have to forgive me, but I have urgent business to attend. I’ll speak with you when I return—”
“Does your business involve the LaCroix investigation?” Nikolai stopped dead in his tracks as he pulled on his coat. The woman savored the silence before boldly intruding on his office. “My name is Tatiana Pražakova from the Security Information Service. I’ve been assigned to the LaCroix case to investigate any links to human organ trafficking.”
Nikolai turned an astonished gaze on her.
“A slew of kidnappings have occurred in Prague over the past few months, raising suspicions about organ trafficking or organized prostitution. Most of the victims who vanished are between ages 18 and 22, fitting the common profile of a victim.”
“Organ trafficking?” Nikolai murmured, slowly registering her words.
“Krista LaCroix may have been a victim of an organ trafficking ring. I plan on conducting an independent investigation, but your superiors assured me I would have access to police resources. If it isn’t too much to ask, I would like to be kept abreast of developments.”
“Why is BIS involved?”
“We have received multiple requests to intervene in this investigation. Unfortunately, many concerned citizens do not believe the police are up to the task of recovering their daughters.”
“But we—” Nikolai protested. “I can assure you we will find them, Ms. Pražakova. Our department is perfectly capable of handling the case by ourselves.”
“You can use all the help offered to you, Mr. Koslov.” She leaned close enough to him so he could not escape her eyes. “I’m approaching you as a partner, not an agent interested in hijacking your investigation. Surely, you must be smart enough to understand that.” Nikolai recognized a determination burning within her that he couldn’t possibly extinguish. She would chew him up and spit him out if he failed to comply.
“Shall we go?”
Nikolai sighed.
“We’re going to the sewers. I’ll fill you in on the way there.”
* * *
Tatiana’s hand slipped on the ladder as her heels clattered down the grungy rungs. She managed to cling to the filth-encrusted ladder but not without an expression of supreme disgust. Had she known her first day on the assignment would drag her into the municipal sewers, she would have ditched her bold heels for boots.
Nikolai seemed well-acquainted with these murky depths, swinging down the ladder with the grace and poise of a boy marauding through the playground. It seemed to meld seamlessly with his child-like ego, thought Tatiana. It didn’t take a criminal profiler to determine that Nikolai despised her presence. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. A smirk creased her glossy lips.
That was a shame.
Tatiana plunged from the last few steps, landing in the caustic drains. She basked in the sordid details of her surroundings, trying to gauge the distance between her and civilization. The vaulted depths stretched into infinity and the only escape route hovered far above.
“Nikolai?” Only the moan of black water burbling in dank corridors answered. Shrugging away her revulsion, she followed the ripples Nikolai left in his wake.
She rarely collaborated with homicide detectives during her investigations. Unfortunately, this situation dictated that she rely on Nikolai for his knowledge about the serial abductions—knowledge he was obviously withholding.
“Nikolai?”
Her eyes swept across the ancient labyrinth and settled on a pair of metallic, double doors. They gaped slightly ajar, emitting a foul stench from inside. Even the light that oozed through the crevice seemed somehow menacing. A reckless impulse goaded her closer. Her fingers almost brushed against its rusted surface when a noise stopped her cold.
Voices echoed from the tunnels.
“What in the hell happened to her…?”
“I don’t know how to describe it… There is no way a human could do this to another person, it’s not possible! There’s nothing left of her to identify!”
Tatiana peered down the tunnel as Nikolai spoke again.
She jerked when she glimpsed a girl in the darkness. Intricate tattoos weaved across her body in a waterfall of ink. She couldn’t be more than eighteen years old, barely on the cusp of womanhood. The girl pulled away from Nikolai as soon as she met Tatiana’s gaze.
“Who the—?” The girl bolted down the slippery tunnel before the words made it past Tatiana’s tongue.
“Who was that?”
“A sewer scavenger,” Nikolai smiled, emerging from the tunnel. “I swear those things can smell corpses better than our canine units.” Tatiana’s eyes flashed suspiciously. When the mysterious girl did not resurface, Tatiana turned her attention elsewhere.
She peeked through the metal doors into the cellar. A caricature of human flesh knelt in the heart of the room. Nikolai brushed past Tatiana, eager to claim dominion over the crime scene.
“She’ll be hard pressed to find any valuables on this girl in the condition she’s in,” Tatiana murmured. Indeed, the victim’s body was caked in grime. Her jaws were unhinged in a silent plea to Heaven, but her prayers were obviously smothered in sewage.
Grainy sunlight mottled her flesh, transforming her once beautiful features that even now turned Tatiana’s stomach. The surface grate seemed miles away from where they stood in a basin of decay. How any sunlight could pierce this basement astonished Tatiana. That same glow danced across words painted in rosy blood on a column.
YOU CANNOT HURT ME ANYMORE
“Every crime scene is haunted by that message,” Nikolai said, casually striding toward the words. “Only the killer truly understands the meaning behind it. Are we to assume these victims wronged him in the past and he was merely exacting revenge?”
A leaking pipe sputtered in reply, digesting the offal of society. At once, Tatiana noticed a gas mask with a rubber hose coiled on the floor. That same hose stretched toward the pipes, from which it delivered a toxic cocktail to the victim.
“This is a defilement of the human body.”
“She isn’t the first to succumb to this killer’s cruel inventions. He enjoys reducing the body to a depraved state, something less than human. I doubt he even views his victims as human beings.”
Tatiana almost delivered a biting reply when she noticed something in the woman’s hand. She strapped on a pair of gloves and approached. She carefully pried open the fingers paralyzed in the throes of rigor mortis. Those perfectly manicured nails now matched the color of a polluted night sky. Tatiana couldn’t remember the last time she indulged in such petty pleasures. In fact, the last thing she should be thinking about was the eyeliner rolling down her cheeks in this ruthless humidity. However, the body before her so vividly demonstrated how the elements can defeat all beauty.
One stubborn claw at a
time, the victim surrendered a crumpled piece of paper in her clutches.
“What have you found?” Nikolai demanded.
Tatiana immediately smoothed the parchment and began to read.
Diagnosis: Natalie Michalikova leads a promiscuous lifestyle and possesses multiple sexual partners. She attracts mates with her cunning personality and shows no remorse when she exploits them for money. Once they have served their purpose, she discards them like trash. Her body is her greatest weapon against men.
Something obscured the grate from above and the sunlight died without even a whisper. Spidery shadows danced around Tatiana, a veil that added to the woman’s chilling mystique.
Tatiana drank in the horrifying condition of the body. The barbed wire was so deeply embedded in Natalie’s wrists that they looked like razor-sharp veins exploding from beneath. Her creamy skin was blackened in grime that no amount of soap and water could possibly cleanse. She had become one with the sewers, a mannequin frozen in death. The dental gag twisted her mouth in a demented smile that mocked Tatiana’s resolve.
“Still think you’re dealing with organ traffickers?” Nikolai’s voice echoed over her shoulder.
Tatiana’s unblinking stare fell to the gas mask congealed like a puddle of leather on the floor. She could almost hear the echoes of Natalie’s screams preserved inside.
“Not like any I’ve ever seen.”
EIGHT
The city swayed below Vivian. She leaned further over the manor balcony as the cool wind stung her cheeks. Slashes of red and yellow swam before her eyes, like a hive of lost souls gelled into this world. One inch further and she might tumble over the balustrade into the city haze. In many ways, the third floor balcony had become her personal sanctuary, where she could look down and feel detached from a society that rejected her in every aspect.
Red Widow (Vivian Xu, Book 1) Page 10
