The Avenged

by Charles Prandy

  He turned to Nathan Hunt and said, “Take them downstairs and end this shit.”

  One hundred seven

  NATHAN HUNT LOOKED AT the large Bowie knife in his hand, turned it around a couple of times and then aimed it at Angela and me, who were now tied to two chairs in the cellar of the house. The room was cold, lit by a single hanging lightbulb in the center of the room. The bulldog man, appropriately named Rex, struck me again with brass knuckles wrapped around his hand. My left cheekbone felt fractured and my left eye looked like a bruised balloon . After Rex finished with me, he took the brass knuckles off, turned to Angela, and slapped her repeatedly with an open hand.

  I tried to speak up in her defense, but only mumbled words found their way from my mouth.

  Rex finally stopped the abuse and then Nathan stepped forward. He waved the knife in my face and then moved the blade to my chest and let the tip dig into my flesh. I screamed, and then with a yanking motion, Nathan slid the blade across my torso. Bright red blood soaked my white T-shirt. I’d never felt pain like that before.

  “I’m not sure how you got away from me the first time,” Nathan said, “but it won’t happen again.”

  He took the blade and swiped it along my right arm, causing blood to splatter against Angela’s shirt. I screamed again in agonizing pain.

  “Did you think you were going to stick this knife in me?” Nathan asked. He swiped the blade again against my shoulder.

  “Stop it!” Angela screamed. “Why don’t you try that shit with me?” Her face wasn’t swollen and her skin was cranberry colored from the open-hand smacks that Rex had laid on her.

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’ll deal with you in good time. Besides, someone has to teach you what it’s like to be with a real man.”

  Angela screamed and tried to stand from the seat, but Rex moved quickly to knock her back down.

  I tried to focus and not pass out, but I felt like I was going to lose consciousness and I wasn’t sure if I’d regain it again.

  Nathan swung the knife a few more times, touching my flesh that hadn’t been exposed, until I sulked in the chair, beaten and ready to die.

  “I love my job,” he said.

  Next, he turned to Angela and blew her a kiss. “So what should we do with you?”

  “I’ve got some ideas,” Rex said.

  “I’m sure you do, big boy. How ‘bout I leave the two of you alone to work on those ideas.”

  He patted Rex on the shoulder and then leaned close, “Shoot them between the eyes when you’re done with her. Oh, and have fun, but don’t take too long. We’re going to have to bury the bodies before daybreak.”

  Nathan walked from the room and placed the bloody knife on a small table by the door.

  One hundred eight

  CARMEN DIDN’T THINK THAT seeing Angela again would have affected her the way that it had. When she had walked into the room and saw Angela and the detective standing hopeless at Frank’s will, her heart nearly dropped. She wanted to run into Angela’s arms and hug her the way that she used to, but she knew that that life was now a thing of the past. So she gave her a kiss, hoping that Angela would be able to forgive her in some way. But Angela wiped her lips and told her never to touch her again. Those few words hurt more than anything else.

  Carmen was in the basement, down the hall from the cellar, standing in a dark bathroom, and heard every horrifying crunch that Rex’s fist made against the detective’s face. She heard Angela try and speak up for him, and then she heard the continuous slaps that Rex’s hand made against Angela’s face. Nathan laughed and then Carmen heard Jacob scream as if he were being tortured. She didn’t know what was causing the detective to scream, but she could only imagine how Nathan was terrorizing him to death.

  A part of her wanted to run away. Tears fell from her eyes at the awful thought that Angela and the detective were going to be killed soon. Had she made the right decision? She loved Frank; loved his warmth and compassion, but he was a monster. She had known that before she fell in love with him, but his affection confused her heart, and before she knew it, she’d fallen head over heels. What would he think of her if he caught her in the bathroom listening to the torture? Frank and the lieutenant had stayed upstairs while Nathan and Rex beat Angela and the detective.

  Then she heard something that crushed her heart even more. Nathan told Rex to have fun with her. What did that mean? Was the detective already dead? She held her breath when she heard Nathan walk down the hall and pass the bathroom. He didn’t notice that she was standing there, confused and scared. Seconds later, she heard his footsteps travel up the stairs and then close the door that separated the basement from the kitchen.

  “So how do dyke bitches like it?” she heard Rex ask.

  Angela didn’t answer and Carmen was scared for her life. Would he rape her? Could she stand by and listen to Angela being raped? Rex laughed and Carmen heard what sounded like Angela’s shirt being torn off.

  “Don’t touch me!” Angela screamed.

  Rex smacked her again. “Baby, I like it rough. The more you fight, the better it’ll be.”

  “You touch me again and you’re a dead man,” Angela responded.

  “I’ve got to give it to you. For a dyke bitch, you’ve got some awesome tits.”

  Carmen heard more struggling, and then Angela screaming to get off her. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just stand there and let Angela get raped by some crazed madman who was going to kill her afterwards. She started crying harder. Angela screamed and then Carmen heard Rex say, “That’s it, that’s it. Take it like a big girl.”

  Everything in her wanted to lash out, but she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough. Angela continued screaming at the top of her lungs but then the screams turned to whimpers. Had she already been defeated?

  Carmen slowly stepped out of the bathroom and quietly walked along the hallway until she reached the cellar door. She saw Rex on top of Angela with his pants down. The detective was slouched on the chair, not moving, and Carmen thought he was dead.

  “Is that how you like it, baby?” Rex taunted again.

  Carmen sniffed and Rex quickly turned around. “What the fuck?”

  She raised her arm, holding one of the Rugers that she had taken from the detective. She’d slipped it under her shirt when no one was paying her any attention. She squeezed the trigger two times and bits of the top of Rex’s head blew off. His body fell on Angela.

  Carmen dropped to her knees in disbelief at what she’d just done.

  “Carmen…Carmen,” Angela called. “Untie my hands. Hurry, before they come down.”

  Carmen rushed over and reached for Angela’s hands. “I don’t have anything to use.”

  “Over there by the door. Use that knife. Hurry!”

  Carmen retrieved the bloody knife and worked its sharp blade until Angela’s hands were free. When Angela stood up, she kicked Rex three, four, five times, and then spat on his corpse.

  “I told you you’d be a dead man if you touched me again.”

  Angela quickly put on her pants and then took the knife from Carmen and untied Jacob.

  “Angela, I’m sorry,” Carmen cried.

  “Stop it. Not now,” Angela replied. “Let’s get out of here first.”

  Angela bent down and lifted Jacob’s head, “Jacob, can you hear me?”

  Jacob moaned and opened his one good eye.

  “Can you stand?”

  “I think so.”

  She helped Jacob to his feet and he nearly fell back down in pain.

  “I got it,” he said. He pushed himself back up and looked at Rex. “What happened?”

  “Long story,” Angela answered. “We’ve got to get you out of here. You’re no good in this condition.”

  “No,” Jacob quickly responded. “We need to end this tonight. I can manage.”

  Carmen walked over and picked up the gun from the floor. “This is all we have.”

  Angela twirled the kni
fe in her hands like a skilled hunter. “We have this.” She turned around and kicked Rex’s body again. “And this dead son of a bitch has a Glock strapped to his leg.”

  Just then, Nathan yelled from the top of the stairs, “Hope she was worth it.”

  One hundred nine

  LIEUTENANT POLENSKI WASN’T SURE how he felt. He had just heard the gun go off two times and knew that Jacob must now be dead. A part of him was happy that it was finally over, but another part was sad that he had lost a former friend. Despite everything that had happened over the past few months, Jacob was indeed one of his friends. He’d eaten dinner at Jacob’s house, and counseled him when he and Theresa were going through marital problems because of the drinking. Jacob was a good and honest man, Polenski thought. The world needed more men like Jacob Hayden.

  Now he was dead and Lieutenant Polenski felt a somberness in his heart.

  “Robbie,” Frank said, “you gonna be up to burying this guy tonight? You don’t look so good.”

  Polenski turned around and looked out the kitchen window. It was dark out, but he could hear the beating of the rain against the house.

  “Sure we should do it tonight? Mud’s gonna leave tire impressions in the ground.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I just need to know that your head’s in the right place.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Nathan moved to the basement door, opened it and yelled down, “I hope she was worth it.” He closed the door and walked back into the kitchen.

  The kitchen was of moderate size, with stainless steel appliances, an L-shaped beige granite counter, and cherry wood cabinets with a center island. Polenski leaned against the island and sipped on a bottle of apple juice while Nathan sat on a barstool across from him.

  “After we tie up this loose end, I want you to make plans for us to be in Mexico by next week,” Frank said to Nathan. “And Robbie, I want you on the phone with Gregory Bines in the morning with the next shipment order.”

  “Got it,” Polenski responded.

  “What’s taking that prick so long down there?” Frank asked. “You think he’s fucking a corpse?”

  Nathan laughed, “Wouldn’t surprise me if he was.”

  “Robbie, go check it out. I don’t want no weirdos fucking dead people in my house.”

  Polenski placed his juice on the counter and walked to the door. When he opened it, the last thing he saw was Angela aiming a handgun and then he heard a bang. Everything around him quickly faded to black as his lifeless body slumped to the floor.

  One hundred ten

  “HOLY FUCK!” I HEARD Nathan’s voice cry out. I climbed the stairs behind Angela, wincing at every step but determined to push on. I could only see out of one eye, and the left side of my face felt like it was going to fall off.

  Angela fired again when she was at the top of the stairs and stepped over Polenski’s body. A male voice screamed in pain and then I heard footsteps run across the floor. I finally reached the top of the stairs and looked at Lieutenant Polenski’s dead body. Angela was a good shot. A bullet hole was where his right eye used to be.

  “Nathan ran to the front of the house. The judge went out the back door. Think I hit Nathan in the arm,” Angela said.

  I looked around the room and saw our guns on the kitchen counter. I grabbed one of the Rugers.

  “I’ll go after the judge,” I said. “I have a bullet in my gun with his name on it.”

  “Be careful.”

  “You too.”

  We split up and seconds later, I was in the pouring rain. The beach was less than one hundred yards from the house, and I saw the tail end of Frank’s feet turn a corner into the woods.

  I ran as fast as I could, each step sending piercing shockwaves of pain through my beat-up body. I entered the woods with my gun aimed, but my vision wasn’t any good. My breath came in quick intervals and my heart pounded like a beating drum in my chest. I wasn’t sure which way the judge had gone. I turned around in circles, aiming the gun in every direction, hoping for a glimpse of the madman, but he wasn’t there. Then, as if I was hit by a train, Frank swung a large tree branch the size of a two-by-four at my legs and knocked me down. I crashed to the ground with a thump and the gun flew from my hand.

  “You think you can take me down, detective!”

  Frank swung the branch again and I moved just as the branch struck the ground, missing my head by less than an inch.

  “I’m gonna kill your black ass!”

  My left tibia felt broken, but I knew if I didn’t try and move, the judge would kill me for sure. I turned around and tried crawling away, but wasn’t able to move very fast.

  “Ha, ha, ha, I’m gonna enjoy this,” Frank taunted.

  I struggled to move. I dug my fingers in the ground, trying to take the pressure off my legs, but Frank stepped on my butt and pushed me back into the ground.

  “You never should have come up here. Now you’re gonna be with your dead wife in hell, you sonofabitch.”

  I continued reaching and struggling to cover any ground when my hands came over a thick stick. I grabbed it, turned around and swung with all of my strength. I struck Frank on the side of his face, which clearly caught him off guard. He looked like a boxer who’d been caught with a right hook he wasn’t expecting. His legs wobbled and he dropped the heavy tree branch. I struggled to my feet, but when I did, I swung the thick stick again and again, over and over, hitting Frank on the back of the head, shoulders, arms; anywhere I could cause some kind of pain.

  Frank finally fell to his knees and spat out blood. He looked up at me, half-grinning.

  “Fuck you.”

  In the background, three gunshots rang through the air in the direction of the house. I turned around and wondered who had been shot, Nathan or Angela. When I faced the judge again, a fist connected with my fractured face and knocked me down with horrifying pain.

  I rolled over and covered my head, expecting to feel the stomp of blows from the judge, but none came. I turned around and saw the judge limping towards the beach. I pushed myself up and saw the gun that I had dropped next to a tree. I quickly grabbed it and pursued Frank again, this time catching him from behind and knocking him down. I punched him in the back and heard an “ugh” escape from his lungs. I stood up and aimed the gun at the back of his head.

  The air was cold and the rain fell harder, causing my body to shiver. I had never killed anyone before, but I knew that was about to change. Frank turned around and looked at the gun pointed at his head. I wanted to shoot, but something inside of me wouldn’t let me pull the trigger. Deep in my mind, I heard the echoing words that told me justice could still be served. No, it couldn’t. Despite the fact that revenge was the whispering rationale that plagued my inner soul, my conscious wouldn’t let me end this man’s life.

  After everything that had happened and after all that I’d been through, I suddenly doubted myself and tensely lowered the gun. As I did, Frank smirked. He got to his feet and flipped me the finger.

  “I knew you didn’t have the balls to do it, you weak-ass pansy.”

  My brows curled, and white rage suddenly demolished any doubt. My skin reddened as I sharply extended the Ruger once again. I clenched my jaws together, but the deep wounds that had torn at my heart screamed to be released.

  “You don't deserve to live!”

  Frank’s smirk widened to a full smile and then he spat at me. I became engulfed with blind rage and swung my right leg, kicking Frank between the legs. He grunted and toppled over to the ground in pain.

  “I should kill you right now, you son of a bitch,” I yelled. “You took everything from me!”

  I raised and aimed the gun. Frank climbed back to his knees and eventually stood in a hunched over position holding his balls. He coughed and then slowly stood to his full height. With rain pellets beating him in the face, his cold eyes spoke before his mouth opened.

  “And I’d do it all over again if I could.”

  The
lasts words were too much for me to handle. I yelled as a rush of adrenaline burst through my veins which caused my finger to squeeze the trigger. I continued squeezing, each bang becoming more deafening than the first, until there were no more bullets left to shoot. Yet, as the riveting sound from the jolting gun slowly died and the adrenaline eased away, my eyes glossed over with fear as I stared at the end of the barrel, disillusioned by what I had just done.

  Judge Frank Peters’ body was on the ground, riddled with bullet holes.

  One hundred eleven

  KILLING JUDGE FRANK PETERS didn’t bring Theresa back. Killing him didn’t make me feel any better. Actually, it made me feel worse. I took the law into my own hands and killed a man in cold blood. Was it in self-defense? It didn’t matter. I had taken an oath to serve and protect the people, not kill them.

  I kneeled next to Frank’s corpse and looked into his vacant eyes. He would have killed me if he could have, I tried to rationalize with myself. He wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I sought and found my revenge, but it wasn’t a sweet taste like some say it is.

  Feet running across the wet ground caught my ears and I quickly turned around and raised my gun. With only one good eye, I couldn’t make out the image through the dark and rain. Could it be Nathan, ready to kill me once he was close enough? Was it Angela? The person ran fast, and I was getting ready to fire, fearing that it was Nathan coming to end my life.

  “Jacob!” Angela called out.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I lowered my weapon and fell into Angela’s arms when she got there.

  “It’s finished. We can go home now,” she said.

  Minutes later, Carmen was with us, and we hugged each other on the beach in the midst of the rainstorm.

  One hundred twelve