The Saint (Carter Ash Book 1)

by Joshua Guess

  Russey’s jaw worked as he studied me, as if chewing on words. Tears welled up in his eyes, spilled down his cheeks. The part of me eternally grateful for handing me Jacob Caldwell on a platter did not hate him. I don’t think any part of me truly hated Tom. He was what he was. I had never believed differently.

  When he finally spoke, he made the words count. “You turned into him, you know. Caldwell. You did exactly what he did, but with your own goddamn hands.”

  I reeled as if slapped. He gave voice to a deep, nagging worry about myself I hadn’t been able to admit existed.

  And yet…

  “I never killed anyone who didn’t have it coming,” I said. “Robby was turning into a monster. God only knows what Javier and the others cleaned up you had them keep from me. Maybe he didn’t kill anyone, but he was the next thing to a sociopath. No consequences for anything he ever did made him push farther and farther. And that’s on you, Tom.”

  In a display of strength and sheer toughness bordering on inconceivable, Russey pushed himself to his knees. The pain must have been tremendous, but like the furious bull he was, Tom Russey powered through it.

  I shot him in the face.

  He tumbled to one side, a mundane end to a unique man. I was tired, so tired, and no part of me wanted another fight or argument. There were no more words to say between us.

  Also, I needed his body as a shield.

  Without much time to work, I dragged the desk around and pulled it toward the door with the leg hole facing that direction. I knew the locations of all the explosives and firebombs even if I couldn’t dig into the walls and fixtures to stop them. This was the section of room furthest from any of them. I dragged Tom’s body into the space between the desk and the door, then curled into the hole and pulled him over me.

  It wasn’t a great plan. The door wouldn’t unlock for twenty-five minutes. The fire would surely kill me by then. Unfortunately, it was all I had. Maybe with more time, I could have—

  The world turned very loud and red and my poor wounded head was pummeled by shock waves that caused synapses to misfire and I found myself immersed in

  Then

  Sunlight, and me without any sunscreen. In the distance they played in the water together, the cerulean waves as clear as diamonds and sparkling twice as brightly.

  I sipped cold beer and raised my book, trusting the giant umbrella to keep me safe.

  “Come swim, daddy!” Hannah squealed in her little girl voice, the words written on peals of laughter. “Stop being so boring!”

  I sighed and closed the book, draining the beer in one huge gulp. I liked swimming just fine, but the worry I always had with the ocean was a random riptide catching me and pulling me out, exhausting me until I couldn’t swim any longer. Then my head would go under and I wouldn’t

  Now

  Breathe, had to breathe. Oh, god, the heat was unbearable but the choking particles and gases fought to get down my throat like the clawing hands of tiny demons. The fire was everywhere, but it was still dark.

  I pushed my face against the floor and hauled Russey on my back as I inched closer to the door. The rational part of my brain knew it wouldn’t open, that I’d burn myself or pass out even trying, but that voice was tiny and distant. Survival took over every motor function.

  Weird. I had lost everything I wanted to live for, hadn’t I? All those years ago, but the wounds never really healed. I felt them every day.

  The world went fuzzy at the edges in a familiar way, and I could swear I heard

  Then

  Hannah bouncing on the trampoline nearly gave me a heart attack. I circled it the way a worried dog guards its puppies, anxiously waiting for something bad to happen.

  “Look how high I can go, Daddy!” she screamed excitedly, giving her legs an extra pump when she hit. I saw the angle was off and moved on instinct, spreading my arms wide as she rocketed off the side and sailed toward the ground.

  I wrapped my arms around her as the impact drove the wind out of me, turning to put my body between her and the ground. Hannah, of course, giggled insanely through the whole thing. Sometimes I wondered how the human race ever managed to make it out of the trees.

  “Let’s do that again!” she shouted, drumming her hands on my chest excitedly.

  Resisting the urge to roll my eyes and show the smile she’d infected me with, I tried to look stern. “No. You’re gonna break your neck. If I’d known how much trouble kids were, I don’t think I’d have bothered.”

  In response, Hannah threw her arms around my neck and pelted my cheeks with kisses. “Whatever, I know you’ll always be there to save me. You love me too much.”

  True. When the hard days came, she was the reason I

  Now

  Pushed myself across the last few inches of floor. Falling embers, scraps of paper and the thin layer of drywall covering the steel, littered the thickening air like bright snowflakes. The heat was unbearable, but every fallen cinder I scraped across made me realize how much hotter it was going to get.

  There was no urge to give up. Though I couldn’t put a finger on the moment when my inclination switched from apathy to wanting to live, it was there. I could have flipped over and drawn in a deep breath of the deadly gas building above me. I would have passed out in short order. The fight would be over. No worry for the consequences of my sins unless my Sunday school teachers were right.

  Instead I pushed that last inch and felt my face squish against the bottom of the door. A wave of relief washed over me that the thing was clad in wood over its metal core, else my skin might have peeled away like cheese on a griddle.

  To my surprise, a felt a little breeze. Not much. Just a whisper of air—fresh air—moving past my face with a feather touch. I pushed my mouth toward it, getting strands of carpet in it, and greedily sucked in the pure air.

  After the world stabilized, my brain kicked into a little higher gear and I remembered the other part of the fail-safe—positive pressure. When the signal for the explosives went live, the extra-powerful HVAC system in the house kicked on to keep this room from seeping out gasses. There was a tiny vent set in one of the windows to keep that flow passing through.

  I remembered complaining about the little metal vent, how putting it in the Plexiglas might weaken it in the event of having to use the system. Metal was a fantastic heat conductor, after all.

  A thunderous crack filled the room, followed by a terrible whoosh and heavy thuds. I felt the desk shudder against my feet amid the discordant thumps and crashes of falling things.

  Something crashed into my head, and the darkness took me. As it did, a memory flashed through my head. It was of Rosa telling me she loved me for the very first time.

  My final thought was that it was also the last.

  29

  The beard woke me up. I knew it wasn’t heaven, because no paradise would allow something so hot and itchy to exist on my face. That left hell and the real world as possibilities, and I doubted hell had much in the way of health care, HMOs notwithstanding. And this was certainly a hospital. It had all the right sounds and smells, especially the harsh, tangy odor of disinfectant.

  I tried to reach up and scratch my cheek before I even opened my eyes, discovering in the process that I was cuffed to the bed.

  “Well, shit,” I mumbled. “Either this is really bad, or I’m about to have an old fantasy play out.”

  Someone next to me made a disgusted noise. “Gross, dude. You’re super old.”

  My eyes flew open. “Kate?”

  Sitting in a chair next to me, Kate threw her arms out and her chin up as if to say, ‘yes, it’s me, feel blessed!’ before leaning back and closing a book. “About time you woke up, you lazy bitch.”

  I looked down and saw my left hand was free, so I used that to scratch the hellish thing growing on my mug. “What happened? How did I get here?” I glanced at the cuffs. “I guess the cops have been busy. And why are you here? How are you here? If I’m in handcuffs, there ha
ve to be cops waiting outside. Jesus, I have to be in deep…”

  She put up her hands. “Okay, calm down there, buddy. I’m here because my dad works here. There’s a cop out there, but he’s someone your friend on the phone knows, so he lets me in to sit with you.”

  “My friend on the…” Fahey, of course. She meant Fahey. And she knew enough to not even speak his name.

  Kate dug a piece of gum out of her pocket and popped it in her mouth. “Yep. As for what happened to you? The cop sitting outside that house called for fire trucks and whatnot, but by the time anyone got around to the back of the place, you were laying in the yard. Your friend filled me in. Apparently the guy helping you saw you didn’t come out and broke in through a window. Hauled your ass out. Gave you a concussion in the process, a really bad one. You also got a few broken bones, some cracked ribs, and needed surgery. Which my dad did.”

  “How long have I been out? This beard says at least a week.”

  Kate nodded. “Eight days. You also had some pretty gnarly burns. You’ve been in a chemically-induced coma. Today was your coming out party.” She raised her hands again. “Surprise.”

  I put my head back and focused on my body. I tried to get a sense of my injuries. There were a few incredibly sore points, and yeah, my ribs felt like shit, but overall it wasn’t terrible. At least I felt well-rested. “How doped up am I right now?”

  Kate tilted her head in serious consideration. “You’re pretty much on all the drugs, man. You got really fucked up.”

  I sighed and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah. I’ll get nice and healed up so they can throw me in a cell.”

  “Probably.” Kate tapped the book against her leg. “But hey, you’re alive. And you haven’t actually been charged with anything.”

  I shook the handcuff. “This says otherwise.”

  Kate shrugged. “The dude sitting outside put that on you before they woke you up. Technically you’re being held for forty-eight hours while they question you.”

  I frowned. “That doesn’t seem right. I mean, if they’re doing it at all, they probably have a case against me and they’re tying up the ends before charging me. But I don’t think they’re supposed to be able to do this without bringing charges first.” I shook the cuff again for emphasis.

  Kate thrust her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and leaned forward in the chair. “I don’t know, man. Maybe they got a judge to sign off on it or something. I watch SVU and that’s as far as my understanding of the legal system goes.”

  I had a better understanding of the law—you had to, in my business—and based on that I had to assume someone was lying to Kate. Maybe to make her feel better, though anyone who knew her even a little would understand she didn’t need kid gloves. Cuffing me without charges could be the sort of procedural error lawyers loved to exploit to get cases thrown out.

  There was a short double-tap on the door.

  “Uh, come in, I guess,” I said.

  A tall, handsome man wearing scrubs walked in. He carried a chart. Through the door I saw a gaggle of younger faces framed in more scrubs and lab coats, all craning to get a look. The doctor closed the door behind him, but stopped short when he saw Kate.

  He frowned at her. “I told you to stop coming in here.”

  Kate nodded agreeably. “You did. I heard you.”

  The doctor’s eye didn’t quite twitch, but it was a close thing. “Then why are you here?”

  Kate spread her hands. “Because I ignored you. He saved my life. I wanted him to see a familiar face when he woke up. He doesn’t have anyone else.”

  She said it so plainly, so bluntly, that the words flayed away every layer of my armor. I bit back tears. Not in sadness, though her words were true in a way I was only then beginning to appreciate, but due to a powerful warmth spreading through my chest.

  “It’s okay, Kate. You don’t have to stay,” I told her. “Probably best for you if you don’t come back. You’re a minor so no one can make your name public, but people will talk if you keep coming here.”

  She turned her head and stared at me owlishly. “That’s my choice to make.”

  The doctor, who had to be her father, slapped the chart against his leg. “No, it’s mine. Mine and your mother’s. Until you turn eighteen, we decide what’s best for you.” I saw a vein throbbing at his temple, and watched him take a calming breath before opening his mouth again. “I get it, honey. I really do. You got to be here when he woke up, so mission accomplished. Now you have to leave. Say your goodbyes, because you won’t be getting back in.”

  Perhaps realizing how close to the edge she had pushed her luck, Kate sighed and stood. She leaned over the bed and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, hugging me tightly.

  “Thank you, Carter,” she said.

  I hugged back with my free hand. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

  She pulled back and met my eyes. Kate spoke in a low voice, too quiet to reach her father’s ears. “Trust me, Robby deserved it.”

  She squeezed my shoulder and turned. Before I knew it, Kate was through the door and gone.

  “I’m sure you’ve figured it out already, but I’m Doctor Silva. Kate’s dad.”

  I inclined my head. “Not a hard conclusion, no. I assume she told you everything?”

  Silva laughed, half in amusement but lined with bitter edges. “Are you kidding? She told us almost nothing. She even said you told her to leave nothing out, but no. She didn’t want us to have to lie under oath about the guy who saved her life.”

  I blinked. Silva put up a hand to stop me from responding.

  “Look, I don’t want to know. I’m not an idiot. I’m positive you’ve done terrible stuff. Judging by the fuss over you and what the press is saying, I’m even open to the idea you’re a killer. But Kate said nothing about any of that. What I know is you saved her life, even if it looks like you’re the one who put her in danger to begin with.”

  His face darkened. “Much as I want to punch you in the face for that, I have to thank you for making sure Kate was safe. She told me enough to know you understand how it is for parents.”

  I was feeling a bit too fragile to tackle that statement, so I just nodded. “Am I right in guessing you told her I wasn’t being charged with anything just yet? since you’re my doctor and the cops have to coordinate with you, you’d have to know.”

  Silva nodded. “From what I understand, you’ll be charged today. They considered you a flight risk and a danger, so a judge let them cuff you to the bed. That won’t interfere with your treatment, though. It’ll come off when we take you to radiology in a bit for an MRI of your head.”

  “Why? How bad am I hurt?”

  Silva leaned against the vacated chair and put up a hand. “We’ll go over it comprehensively when you’re back in here, but the MRI is because you had a minor brain hemorrhage, and we want to see how it’s doing. I need to go wrangle these med students. Don’t worry, though. They aren’t going to come in here and charge you without me being present.”

  “Thanks,” I said, though it wasn’t that much of a comfort.

  Silva stood back up. “You’re welcome. Let me check a couple things and I’ll let you get something to eat.”

  He went through the standard routine, checking my vitals and making sure all the important stuff worked. He leaned close to the bed with narrow eyes as he inspected the array of pumps pushing fluids and drugs into the IV in my arm. His hand pressed into the bed next to my pillow hard enough to move me a little, which sent a lance of pain through my ribs.

  “Sorry,” he said when I grunted. “This all looks good. I’ll send your tray in. You’ve been tube fed for a while, so I’m sure real food will hit the spot.”

  I was hungry enough that even hospital food sounded good. When the nurse aide came in with my meal a few minutes later, I tore through the lukewarm Salisbury steak in less than a minute. Halfway through the grainy mashed potatoes, my bed vibrated.

  After a little digging, I ca
me up with a phone. It was beneath my pillow, right where the doctor had put his hand. A text message alert flashed on the screen.

  This is F, it began. Take your medicine, or want extraction?

  Fahey, you beautiful bastard. I sent a quick text asking for an assessment. If the case against me was circumstantial, or there were legal workarounds, I might risk it.

  Are you kidding? You’re fucked. In more ways than you know. I suggest extraction.

  With a shrug, I texted him back and agreed. If he could get me out of here safely, I would be a fugitive. But that didn’t really scare me. It’s not as if I had a family or even friends to leave behind and disappoint. Kate would certainly understand, and since I was pretty sure her dad left the phone for me, I didn’t worry much about this blowing back on him. I was a wily criminal, after all. I could have gotten that phone any number of ways.

  I had my doubts Fahey could pull it off, though. Hospital security wasn’t great, but patients in handcuffs tended to be noticed. And missed.

  So I finished my meal and pushed the tray aside. I almost wanted my day in court, if only for the small chance that I could walk away with an acquittal. Thing was, even if every other piece of evidence and testimony the cops and DA could find were to somehow be discredited, my prints on the gun that killed Russey were enough. I shot him as a desperate last move, but it also made sure all the dirt the cops could gather would sure as hell stick.

  At some point I dozed off, because I woke with a start as someone knocked on my door. This person didn’t wait for me and walked in on his own; the cop guarding the door. His eyes darted around the room as if I could hide a crew in it.

  “The nurse here is gonna take you to radiology,” he said. “I’ll uncuff you outside the MRI suite. Don’t give me any trouble, okay?”