“Yeah…” I step away from the door and move towards the front of the house. “But keep your eyes open.” I enter the den head to the nearest window. My foot meets a stuffed animal—a giraffe. Nathan’s. I brush it to the side and peer out from between the blinds. Nothing…no one parked nearby.
So, they didn’t even think to have anyone play lookout. Damn, we really just got poached by a deranged couple and their family friend. They reeled us in from the get-go.
I break away from the window and head upstairs to our room. As soon as I make it to the door frame, I see the contents of our bags emptied and spread across our bed, my gun included. Everything’s there but my syringe and Holy Water are nowhere to be found. I reload my gun and tuck it away before filling our bags with our stuff. I rotate our belongings to my back and arm myself. Then I go to the bathroom. Once I’m there, I find the syringe and quickly shove it into my pocket.
I rush downstairs and find Valerie right where I left her. She seems a bit better, but she’s still shaken from it all.
“Hey, upstairs checked out. We need to move.” I crouch beside Valerie on her good side and place her arm over the span of my back. “You good to walk?”
Valerie nods her head. “Yeah,” she responds weakly.
“All right, here we go.” With a grunt, I rise, her body latched on to mine. Together we walk towards the stairs. Her sense of balance is off, I can feel it. If I wasn’t holding her up, I don’t think she’d be able to walk in a straight line. “You ready for this?”
“I don’t have a choice,” she says with a grunt.
I climb the first stair, but Valerie winces in pain after the first step. The steps are steep. The angle brings unwanted attention to her bleeding side.
“Val?”
“I’m good.” We go for a couple more, but eventually, we have to stop.
“Valerie.”
“I’m good…it just hurts. Keep going.” We try again but only make it half as far.
“Hey…if I carried you, do you think you’d be able to hold on?”
“What?” She turns her head and looks straight into my eyes. “Don’t talk like that, you were stabbed, too…I can do this,” she rasps. Her face is pale…sweaty. Her breathing is unnatural, too. To be honest, I forgot that I was even stabbed. Vartal took care of that. Same with my hands and shoulder. By the time I killed everyone, I was well on the road to being pain free.
“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m used to this, remember?” Valerie doesn’t respond but instead continues to stare at me with glassy eyes. I’m not even sure if she’s all the way there. “Now isn’t the time to be stubborn,” I finally say after a moment of silence. “Grab the banister and focus on your breathing. I’m going to put our stuff down upstairs.” I break away from our gaze and climb the rest of the stairs alone.
After I reach the top, I venture into the kitchen and place our bags near a stool by the kitchen table.
“She’ll be fine, right?”
Time will tell.
“Yeah, well I hope it’s on our side.” I storm from out the kitchen and back to the open door that leads to the basement staircase. I turn the corner only to find Valerie looking at me, one hand fastened to the banister, the other over her wound.
Shit, Val. You’re really starting to piss me off.
“I’m carrying you.” I hurry in my descent to reach her and immediately set up to get her out of the basement as soon as possible. Valerie drapes one of her hands over my shoulder and I grab onto it, securing it against my chest. The other one comes after, slightly discolored with a red tint from her blood. Once she’s in position, Valerie grips my shoulder and I slide my hands to the back of her thighs to lock her in position. I carry her up the stairs at a snail’s pace, conscious of not causing any further distress to her body. When we get upstairs, I go into the kitchen and abruptly stop. “This a good spot to drop you off?”
“…It’s fine.”
“Okay,” I say as I let her down and help her get situated in her seat. “…I’m going to swing the car around. While I do that, double check our bags. Make sure everything that’s yours is there. I don’t want to leave anything up to chance. Stay inside until I come back for you.” Valerie nods in agreement, her hand, reunited against her bleeding side. “Careful with your blood. We don’t want to leave more clues than we have to. Be right back.”
I exit the kitchen and leave the house through the back door—the quickest way to Frank’s shed. With the shed in my sight, I sneak across the gravel terrain and enter the shed as quietly as I can. Once I’m there, I find the keys to my car hanging on the key holder on my right. I don’t waste any time snatching it off its hook and popping the trunk to my car.
Don’t tell me you’re doing what I think you’re doing. And after saving your life…again. Why am I not surprised? In case you’ve forgotten, you and your friend would have been fodder for a sacrifice and utterly abused before your unfortunate death, Vartal comments as I shuffle through my makeshift bag of hunting supplies. You’re making a dreadful mistake.
“Am I?”
Yes, you are.
“Last I checked, I’m the one in control.” I manage to locate my Holy Water and load up my syringe with a full dose.
Didn’t I warn you not to bite the hand that feeds you, child?
“I’m the one feeding you, remember? And I think you’ve had enough.” I stick the needle into my arm and push on the plunger. The second the water mixes with my blood, it burns like a fire coursing through my veins. My legs buckle from the sudden shock and I lurch forward against my car.
Such pride…such arrogance. Who’s feeding who? Vartal asks mockingly. I suppose now is the appropriate time you learn the consequences of your actions brought about by your stubbornness, although I must admit, you picked the wrong time to cast me aside… Until we meet again, Miss Ray. But then again, I’m never truly away, am I?”
Amidst our joint agony, Vartal laughs as his presence fades.
The pain from the injection subsides, but another sensation is quick to take its place—my side—burning hot along the length of my incision.
I push off against the gear in my trunk to regain my balance and my head swoons. The base of both my thumbs begin to ache, too. Great.
With one hand on my bumper for support, I place my hand over where Frank sliced into me; I’m bleeding. It’s time I learn, huh? That bastard.
He was holding back…nursing the symptoms instead of the problem.
I exhale into the air and take a moment to regain my composure before tossing the water and my syringe into my trunk and locking it shut. I can do this. I’m still not nearly as banged up as Valerie. I just have to get her to the car so we can get the hell out of here. I block the pain out of my mind and walk to the driver’s side of my car, but stop once I see a beam of light illuminate stretch across the gravel road in front of me. Headlights. Shit. Immediately, I duck behind cover and wait for the car pass by, trying my best to stay out of its line of sight. I manage to catch a glimpse of the mystery vehicle as it crawls forward along Frank’s property. It’s a truck. Blue…and probably almost as old as me.
Not after long, the sound of feet traversing across the gravel registers in the silence of the night. I wait in the darkness provided by the shed, perfectly squared away from the patches of light that bleed in from the fixture above the back door. A middle-aged white guy outfitted in denim and a red hat walks towards the rear entrance of the house and pauses at the door. I ready my gun in the distance, wary of his next move. The man in question knocks and says something that I can’t pick up. He then sinks a hand into his pocket and begins to lightly pace by the door. If he goes in, he dies, no questions asked. If Frank and Helen planned on doing the ritual tonight, he would have made sure that no one bothered him unless they were in the know. I don’t think a group of kidnappers would have an open door policy. That would only lead to more bodies if they ever got caught.
The man stops to knock again and
rests his hands on his hips. He looks up to the sky and then glances at Frank’s workshop. I quickly retract my neck to avoid his piercing gaze. I count to three in my mind and then attempt to steal another glance. I stretch my neck out into the open and find him still at the door but looking in the opposite direction. Eventually, the man returns his sights to the door and reaches for the handle. “Frank?” He raises his voice this time. “Helen?” After he calls her name. he pushes on the door and walks inside.
Valerie.
I immediately break from the shed and sneak my way to the back door, careful not to alert the man in question with my footsteps. I approach the door with an aura of caution, silencing my breath to hear for any screams or ruckus from the other side.
Nothing.
I turn the handle to the back door and slip inside, my body low to the earth. My side cries out in pain, but it’s the least of my worries. The same goes for my pounding head. I’m dizzy, but as long as I can shoot a gun, I’m fine.
“Frank?” The man calls out again. “Damn it. They’ve probably already started,” he grumbles to himself. “…Frank?”
By now I’m sure he knows that something is awry.
I sneak my way to the outskirts of the kitchen, cognizant of the origin of the man’s voice. He’s tucked between the halls near the basement, which means Valerie managed to evade him. I stop for a moment to analyze my surroundings to see if I can find any clues as to where she's hiding. Blood, tweaked decorations, anything out of place…but nothing stands out from my limited view. She did good.
Now all that’s left is to deal with the straggler.
I bide my time as the man continues his investigation, carefully positioning myself opposite of his steps while using his own movements as a guide. His end-game is the basement, the ritual site. Sooner or later his curiosity will get the best of him. Banking on that, I decide to beat him there first.
I navigate towards the edge of the wall that connects to the staircase that leads to Frank and his family’s final resting place and set up for the end of our final game of cat and mouse. The door to the staircase is open, and it doesn’t take him long to find himself staring down into the dark flight. Slowly, I stand against the wall, my gun firm within my grips. My head pulses, but I’m quick to focus my mind despite the remnants of the drugs floating in my system. I recalibrate my balance and hone in on the sound of his foot landing on the first step of the creaking staircase that echoes throughout the hall. He pauses, almost as if he’s about to call out again, but instead, he holds his tongue. While I wait in silence, a slight tugging sensation resonates right above my diaphragm—my body reacting to the demonic energy stemming from the altar in the basement. It isn’t long before Frank’s cohort is on the move again. And of course, I trail behind.
He doesn’t even make it to the third step before I pistol-whip him as hard as I can.
His body goes limp from the sudden shock and tumbles forward, his inertia propelling him face first in his descent. His plunge is short-lived, but it was one hell of a ride. The sound of his head slamming against the floor made quite the impact—he was too stunned to break his fall with his arm. I watch him from the top of the stairs and study him for any signs of movement. Killing him outright would have been some much needed luck, but unfortunately, it seems like that won’t be the case. The mystery man squirms on the ground, trying to make the best out of a bad situation but he’s too injured to do much. I bet he’s hating his life right about now, but then again, if he wasn’t collaborating with kidnapping dipshits who mess with the dark arts he wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.
He deserves to go where he’s going, just like the rest of them.
“You know, there is an upside to all of this,” I say as I travel down the stairs and tuck away my gun. “At least you get to die by your friends.” His struggle grows more desperate with every step I take, while the darkness empowers my own.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, his desperation turns into a frantic scramble for Frank’s gun that I swiftly end by kicking him in the face. He ends up on his back, dazed and oozing blood from his nose and where his head originally slammed into the floor. I mount him as he claws at me with his last bit of strength, fighting his damnedest to prolong his inevitable death.
It’s pathetic.
I weave my arms past his and squeeze as tight as I can around his neck, my eyes never leaving his. He tries to pull at my arms, but I don’t let go. Instead, I push my thumbs deeper into the base of his windpipe and lean forward, further applying pressure to his neck. He tries to force me off of him, but all it does for him is blow his remaining oxygen. His eyes begin to flutter, and eventually, his struggle stops. I sigh deeply as I sit on top of him, my hands pulsing, entrenched around his neck. I release my grip not long after that and study the bleeding face of the man beneath me.
The first blow is wet…grimy but more satisfying than I ever thought possible. When I hit his face, something gave from the force of my fist under his eye, causing his skin to puff. I cock back my other arm and hit him again, this time square in the nose. A spurt of blood rushes from his nose as his head involuntary bobs. And then I hit him again, and again, and again…more times than I can count, his face becoming more deformed with every strike. He wasn’t quite dead when I choked him out, but he most certainly is now. Exhausted, I stare at his mess of a face while I gasp to catch my breath.
“S-Sailor…?” I quickly grab my gun from my waistband and twist to aim the barrel at the top of the stairs. Valerie. “Sailor, it’s me.” Her body is pressed against the door frame of the basement, and one of her hands is covering her wound while the other firmly grips a kitchen knife. “Sailor, are you okay?” Her words click within me, draining my lust for vengeance. It’s not just what she said, but how she said it. She’s never seen this side of me, let alone the life I live, until now. “…Sailor?”
She’s terrified.
My hand trembles as I lower my gun away from her and tuck it behind me. “Yeah…I’m fine.” A simple but beautiful lie constructed on a whim to preserve whatever sense of normalcy she could get from all this, not that it’ll last long. I glance at the man beneath me and realize just how badly I beat him. ‘Who’s feeding who?’ echoes in my mind, a fading memory of Vartal’s words taunting me long after their expiration. I try not focus on it, but I can’t help but wonder how much of that she managed to see. “How you holding up?” A part of me actually wanted to kill her, just for the rush.
“Better,” she rasps. “I knew something was up when that guy came to the door. At first, I thought he killed you.” My eyes catch his bloodied corpse as I stand to my feet. Rather than avoid the sight, I soak it in and confront my demons. Sure, I had to fight to survive, but this was different. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I enjoyed it.
“Well, he didn’t,” I say, my eyes still focused on the corpse. “But your head was in the right place.” I shift my eyes back to Valerie. “Thanks… Now let’s get out of here.” I walk up the stairs with Valerie waiting for me at the top, all the while feeling the darkness generating from the room tugging at my insides, begging me to stay. Once I reach the top, I take a final look at the basement and place Valerie’s arm over my shoulder. “Come on.” Valerie nods and takes the first step of our joint venture. Rather than press on her wound, she clutches onto the knife in her hand as if her life depends on it. I can’t tell how much of her weakness is from the drugs and how much is from the injury. We weren’t supposed to die from the incision, but we were supposed to die from what came after. She lost a good bit of blood, and her cut seems to run deep… It’s hard to gauge her condition overall, although it seems like her adrenaline seemed to have given her a little boost. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? I don’t know how long it’ll be till I can get a look at things and we can’t go to a hospital.”
“…I have to be.”
If I had to guess, I’d say she lost anywhere between a pint and a half to two pints of blood
since the whole thing started, but things like that are hard to eyeball. Ever since I got her free, she was good to slow the bleeding, but I didn’t gain control of the situation until the damage had already been done.
“Okay. Just keep me updated, all right? You don’t have to be a hero. All you have to do is survive. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Eventually, Valerie and I make it back to my car.
As soon as she’s situated, I take a glance at her wound before leaving Frank and Helen’s property as fast as I can. “You good, Val? Talk to me.” I pull out my phone and monitor the connection strength. I’ve got bars and a little bit less than half a battery.
“I’m just glad that we’re safe.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet.” I scroll through my address book and dial up one of my contacts despite the pain in my thumb.
“…Who are you calling?” Valerie groans.
“Someone who can help,” I say as I raise the phone to my ear.
“Hello? Sailor?”
“Blaze. We’re in trouble.”
“He’s in on this too? I thought—” My eyes veer Valerie’s way and then back on the road. My head pulses from the shift, but it’s manageable.
“Valerie and I didn’t make it too far. Our trip got cut short. Our car broke down at a diner. It sucked, but it wasn’t the worst of our problems. Turns out it was straight-up sabotage. The owners fucked up my car while we were eating or something…sliced the timing belt and played dumb. We ended up staying with them till they could conveniently fix it.”
“Are you okay? You seem awfully calm. I’m confused.”
“I’m trying to concentrate. I’m speeding down a highway while trying to shake off the last bit of whatever they drugged us with.”
“Shit, Sailor. And you’re all right, right?”
“Yeah...no, not really. Valerie’s been stabbed…well, sliced, but other than that, we’re okay. They played it cool for the first night; they didn’t try anything until dinner just now. They wanted to use us for a ritual, but that obviously didn’t happen. I killed them, and now I’m making my way over to the nearest town so I can patch Val up. Once I find a location I’ll send it over to you. Find me…and bring Abby. In fact, bring her and everything you’d need for an exorcism.”
Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie (The Pact Book 3) Page 13
