by J. A. Dennam
Tick tock. The longer Ty stood with his back to him, the greater his apprehension grew. A sucker punch was coming and Derek braced himself for it.
It came with some remorse. “You weren’t really supposed to get hurt.”
Derek closed his eyes. The wound in his back proved more painful knowing Ty had knifed him in more ways than one. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
That’s it? I’m sorry, man? Boy did he feel like a fool. All those times Rena had warned him... What had she seen in Ty that Derek had missed? “I really thought you were with me.”
Ty’s broad back tensed beneath the black hooded uniform he wore. “You don’t understand. IGP has a long reach. You know that better than anyone. Did you really think you could just walk away?”
Through gritted teeth, “I had to try.”
Now Ty turned just enough to tag him with a look of reproach. “You wanted your life back. I’m sorry, but it just can’t be that way. Ghosts don’t quit IGP.” He lifted the door just enough to slip into the hall and closed it behind him.
Derek heard the padlock click shut and fall loudly against the metal. In the ensuing silence, he said, “There’s always a first.”
____________
“It’s gone.” As the truck barreled down the Interstate, Melanie clutched River’s tracking monitor in her white-knuckled grip. “The blue dot. It’s gone!”
Mac leaned over the empty toddler seat between them. “Let me see...”
Danny looked back at her as Austin drove. “Maybe it’s just a malfunction or maybe he’s where the signal can’t be read.”
But, as the excuses rolled through the cabin, Melanie naturally came to the worst conclusion. “I can’t lose my son, Danny! Not him, too!”
With conviction, “We won’t lose him, Mel. We’re all in this together. We’ll find him.”
Mac switched the screen back to satellite view and pointed to an L-shaped rooftop. He’d searched the Internet for a photo of IGP headquarters to get a handle on what they were about to tackle. The brown brick building was mainly six stories with a center section that stood twelve stories high. The overhead view showed there were visible gardens and a courtyard on the rooftop of the west wing. “He’s there, in that section. That’s where the dot was when it vanished.”
“We have Chewie with us this time,” Danny reminded them all as she lovingly stroked the canine’s long fur. Since they shared the passenger seat, his tail thumped against the middle console. “His nose works just fine. He’ll help us find DJ.”
There it was. That infamous Bennett determination. Melanie drew strength from it, remembered that Derek had wanted to make her his wife. She was a Bennett in spirit and, dammit, she’d live up to the name. Do him proud.
Fortified, Melanie clasped onto Mac’s enormous hand when he reached for hers.
“How is your shoulder?” she asked him.
“Ready for battle,” he answered. The headlights of the car behind them outlined his mustache and overall true grit. “Your granddad and his buddy are pretty amazing.”
Melanie swallowed her need to panic and nodded. “I guess they’re still comfortable in a war zone, field dressings and all.” Then she spotted the lights of a passing storage facility. They were close to IGP now, but something pulled her toward that building she and Derek had holed up in that afternoon. “Take a left here. I want to check on something.”
Austin braked and signaled. “No one will be here, Mel.”
“I just want to check. If Rena did take DJ, she could have come here thinking someone would meet her.”
“Do you remember the code?”
“I think so.” Melanie’s fingers pushed the buttons and the door opened on the first try. Finally, something went right. She and Mac entered the hallway, flipped on the light. A string of fluorescents lit the rows of blue doors and she was careful to latch the entry door behind her. It was the fourth unit on the right. The padlock was missing, which meant someone could be inside. Without knocking, Mac bent and lifted up on the handle.
As soon as Melanie saw the interior, her heart skipped a beat. What the hell? It was completely empty. The cot, the table and chairs, any signs that anyone had been there were thoroughly wiped away. Even the cement floor had been swept.
“Are you sure this is the right one?” Mac asked, hands still hooked to the door above him.
“Yes.” She walked toward where the cot used to be, stared down at the bloodstain on the floor. “This is mine. When Derek cut the tracking device out of my leg.”
Never before had she thought to mix pain and pleasure as creatively as Derek had. He knew how to handle her body, knew how to ease her fears like no one else. The tender care he’d shown her was something that would stay with her forever. Something she’d close her eyes and turn to when facing impossible odds in the future.
Mac’s hands smoothed over her shoulders from behind. “We need to go. The others are waiting.”
“I can’t believe he left me,” she whispered. “Again.”
Mac’s big arms came around her and he rested his chin on her hair. “Would you rather not have the new memories?”
His encompassing warmth did much to pull her from the dangerous edge she was trying so desperately to avoid. Melanie filled her lungs with air and released it slowly. “I’d do it all again if I could. The uncertainty, the fear, the danger... it was all worth it to feel the love.”
“I wish I could bring him back for you,” Mac said. “For all of you.”
Swallowing hard, Melanie closed her eyes. “Me, too.”
She would not cry as she soaked in the abandoned feel of the room. There was no place for tears when DJ’s life was at stake. She could do this. She would do this. DJ was going to be found and would come home with her before sunrise.
Once outside, her cellphone vibrated in her pocket. She reached for it, checked the screen. “It’s Ty. I guess he’s been trying to call.”
Mac held the truck door open for her. She piled in with the phone to her ear. “Ty?”
“Mel! Finally! Is everyone okay?”
No, everyone was not okay. “DJ is missing.”
An explosive curse and then he fell silent for a while. “Where are you?”
“At the storage facility. Did you clean it out?”
“Yes. In case it was found. I take it you think DJ’s at IGP headquarters.”
Austin drove the truck out of the parking lot while Melanie filled Ty in. “I know he is. We’re going in after him.”
“You can’t go in there alone.”
“I’m not alone.” The truck bounced as it turned onto a rut-covered dirt road. “Rafferty is out of the picture, Sophie is dead and Chewie is with us. The odds are in our favor this time.”
Ty’s voice became tight over the phone. “The place is crawling with ghosts. You need as many eyes and ears as possible. Tell me where to meet you.”
“We’ll go in through the south basement entrance. It’s hidden and Austin disabled the alarm earlier today.”
“Okay, but don’t go in without me.”
Austin cut the lights as he coasted to a stop along the side of the wooded road. They were here and Melanie didn’t want to wait. “How close are you?”
“Very. I may beat you there.”
Good. They all piled out. Melanie watched as Danny gently lowered Chewie to the gravel in the moonlight. Their small group of rescuers was growing. Some were injured, but all were determined and together they were a force to be reckoned with.
“Ty?” she spoke softly into the phone as they quietly approached the line of trees on the other side of the road.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for yelling at you before. Thank you for helping us. You’re a good friend.”
There was a long, pregnant pause. “You can thank me after we get DJ back.”
Chapter 27
As Derek stumbled through the woods, he realized his footsteps weren’t so quiet anymore. A singing
drunk would be quieter, but he couldn’t seem to keep a steady footing to save his life. Ty had been right. He’d lost too much blood to be on his feet, but willpower drove him now. Drove him to use up the last of his physical stamina to knock Ty out upon his re-entry to the storage unit. While the traitorous bastard lay sprawled on the floor, Derek had slipped out of the facility without falling over. All he had to do was hold out a little longer.
It wasn’t until a hundred yards later, he summoned up the afterthought to take Ty’s cellphone, not that it would have done him any good. The man protected it with a password, but at least Ty could have been prevented from making calls.
Too late. Lack of blood was making him careless.
The air was cool on Derek’s bare skin. He began to shiver. Waves of vertigo forced him to stop on occasion, even fall to the grassy floor once, but his target was only a few more yards away. Nothing he couldn’t handle... Unless it had been moved since he’d left it earlier that day.
The noise he made pained him. It was unnatural now; the need for stealth was so ingrained in his fibers, a survival mechanism every bit as useful as the knife he usually carried. Now he felt exposed. Vulnerable. Oafish. Like a moving target.
But what was he to do? Curl up and wait for balance to restore itself? That was always the problem with IGP. The scales were grossly tipped in favor of whoever controlled the prescription bottle and it would remain so until someone did something about it.
Fuck the prescription bottle. Fuck Ty. Fuck the cold. Fuck those annoying seeds that stuck to your clothes every time you walked in the woods. And, dammit, while he was at it, fuck mashed potatoes. If he never saw a spoonful of that shit again, he’d be halfway to paradise.
His bare foot caught in a root and he went down. His bullet wound screamed in agony, but he only writhed in silence until the urge to let it out subsided. With gritted teeth, he flattened one hand on the crusty ground and rolled to the side that didn’t hurt so badly. God dammit, there was no way. No way he could summon the wherewithal to get where he needed to be. As he looked up at the trees, his vision blurred. Millions of leaves shimmered in the moonlight, mesmerizing him into closing his eyes.
With a start he gave himself a mental slap and opened them again. Still blurry. He looked to the side, searched for a landmark he might recognize. A small frown creased his brow. His head lifted and his vision restored long enough to realize he was staring at a hubcap. His hubcap. Sweet Jesus.
A burst of fortitude offered him the strength to rise from the ground. He promptly tipped, fell into the hidden Challenger’s rear quarter panel with a bang. The cold metal stuck to his skin as he slinked his way to the driver’s side door. He tugged on the handle, struggled with the door. When he finally collapsed behind the wheel, he already felt better.
With a pained groan, he searched beneath the seat and found the keys where he’d left them. It took a few tries in the dim light of the dome overhead, but he was finally able to fit the key in the ignition.
Once the door was closed, he faced the lighted dash. Clutch. Brake. Neutral. The engine came to life with the usual teeth jarring results. God, he loved that sound. He reached over, curled his fingers around the pistol grip gearshift and found reverse. As he eased off the clutch, his right foot gave some gas.
And his forehead hit the steering wheel.
A jolt knocked him back against the headrest. All was silent. In his semiconscious state, time passed with lethargic torture as he let the world rotate without him.
The door opened. His bare chest rose and fell with each vanquished breath. Cool hands gripped his face, bringing him around by another small degree.
This time when his eyes opened, he was able to make out a petite, heart shaped face. It was all that was illuminated by the dome light because the rest was obscured beneath a black, mushroom shaped hood.
____________
Ghosts. Remember, they’re all highly unpredictable and extremely dangerous. Melanie looked around for signs of Ty as she and her paltry group of rescuers huddled against the outer brick wall of IGP headquarters.
Every one of them poses a risk and it will always come down to them or us. It must be them, which means you need to be ready and willing to kill when you see one, just like Derek did. Do you think you can do that? She nodded her head in answer, exhaled loudly.
We are loud, we are visible and we are vulnerable. Those are our weaknesses. On the other hand, we are angry. We are determined. And we have Chewie.
She bent down, gave the restless dog a scratch between the ears.
With any hope he can follow DJ’s scent when he finds it. Ty said he’s a good tracker and he’s got enough love for DJ to follow through.
So, what do you say? Are we ready for this?
Danny blinked at her in the darkness. “Listen to you,” she whispered worriedly. “You sound like Patton for Christ’s sake.”
Only then did Melanie realize she’d been speaking out loud. It was supposed to be a personal pep talk, as she always thought her companions stronger than she. “I’m sorry,” she whispered back, but then she closed her eyes, thought about that as they watched her. “Actually... no, I’m not. We lost Derek again. I’ve been drugged, abducted, almost raped by that one-eyed freak we left with Granddad and Elijah. We’ve all been targeted, chased, beaten, nearly blown to smithereens, and now my child has been kidnapped. All within the last twenty-four hours. I’m tired. I’m pissed. I’m ready for it to end.”
Danny cocked her head. “So, we just start killing?”
Melanie shrugged without a care. “They’re already dead. They chose that path when they signed on with IGP.”
“She’s right,” Austin said, adjusting the black pack over his shoulder. “They’re trained to eliminate threat. Right now, we’re the threat.”
Melanie felt a peculiar flutter deep down in her chest. Like Captain America. “You bet your ass we’re a threat,” she said through gritted teeth.
Mac hefted the hammer he’d borrowed from Austin’s toolbox. “I like it. I’m ready.”
Chewie’s tail began to thump against the grass. Footsteps grew nearer. They all knew the blackened silhouette that appeared before them was a friendly because of the dog’s reaction. Ty knelt for a few seconds to reunite with his pet. The love exchanged between man and dog was as thick as any.
“What happened to you, buddy?” he asked, taking Chewie’s bent paw in his hand and giving it a gentle inspection.
“Rafferty must have hurt him when he took DJ,” Melanie explained.
Ty stood and walked toward her until he towered over her small frame. His next words proved he’d heard the last of their conversation. “While we’re getting geared up to kill ghosts, might I add that you and I are at a slight disadvantage?” He looked down at her uniform which matched his own.
She opened her mouth, hesitated. He was right. “Okay, everyone,” she said over her shoulder, “don’t kill Ty. He’s one of the good guys. Better?”
He failed to see the humor. “Not by a long shot.”
Her eyes narrowed on a suspicious dark patch at his temple. She reached up, barely touched him there. “What happened to your face?”
Ty winced slightly. “I ran into a real ghost earlier. It’s nothing.”
But he seemed off to her. Danny must have sensed it, too, because she asked. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look upset.”
His look sliced over to her. “I just watched a good friend die today. I’m upset.”
Melanie took him by the hand. “You should come with me and Mac to look for DJ.”
“I plan to,” he answered, giving her fingers a squeeze. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until this is over. Derek wanted me to look after you.”
Now that they were all together, Austin pulled on the jimmied basement door’s handle. “This is like deja vu,” he murmured under his breath.
Danny seemed to share his sentiment as she followed him inside. It was then Melanie remembered Derek had as
ked Austin to look after his sister before he was thought to die the last time.
“Where are they going?” Ty asked, allowing Mac to precede him through the door.
Melanie entered the building and they all followed Chewie as his nose hit the floor. “Basement level.”
____________
A peculiar tug on his wrists brought him around. Before Derek opened his eyes, he knew he was back in bed, his hands and feet tied up once again. But whose bed was he in this time?
The smell of incense and the thick mattress beneath his back told him he wasn’t in the storage unit. The reverb of metal walls was also gone. This new environment was more solid... stuffy. He swallowed against the achy dryness in his throat and opened his eyes.
A familiar, petite shape hovered over him, hands on hips. The cropped, dark-brown hair and black hooded uniform were unmistakable. “Crystal?”
IGP’s only female ghost cocked her head, tapped fingers against slim hips. “You’re a moron, Bennett.”
He ran a tongue over parched lips. “Thanks.”
“Everyone thinks you’re dead. Not many could pull that off, but if you want to stay dead, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
As he watched her move about the room, he could only blink slowly. “I didn’t know you cared.”
Crystal ambled to a set of étagères and began to sift through piles of papers and clutter. Her gaunt features lent a pixie quality about her that fooled everyone into thinking she was in her mid teens. But, the only thing Derek really knew about this woman was that she was in her early twenties and sported a lethal set of frost-colored eyes, heavily lined with black makeup.
“I shouldn’t.” She found a bag of incense, pulled out a stick and turned to him with it poised between her fingers. “You defected, you rat bastard. Now we’re all screwed unless we can find someone to take Rafferty’s place and restore order to the group.”
“You weren’t really a part of the group.”
A lighter sparked beneath her thumb. “Why, because I’m a woman?”
