Fierce Shadows: Shadows Landing #4

by Kathleen Brooks

  Harper’s smile grew as she moved back a couple of steps to give herself room. She aimed for the lower middle of the door and kicked. Her booted foot shattered the cheap wood. The inside of the premade door was not solid but filled with something that resembled plywood. It gave the door weight, but not the strength of a solid wood door.

  Harper kicked the center of the door again and again. The satisfying splintering of the wood made her smile widen farther. It didn’t take long until she had enough room to crawl through to the other side. The split wood scratched her as she pushed her body through but she managed.

  When she stumbled through to the other side, she felt rather proud of herself. She pulled her flashlight from her pocket and scanned the tunnel. A similar new door was about twenty feet away, turning this section of the tunnel into a large room. What was between the doors was what Harper found interesting. There were unmarked barrels as well as cases of liquor from BGM distributors.

  Harper approached the nearest case and opened it up. She pulled the bottle out and looked at the rum. It was the kind the resort used to make mixed drinks. The bottle was unopened and when she cracked it, she smelled the rum that she knew well.

  Harper stood back and walked around the area. The rum she’d just pulled was from a regular case with no additional markings on it. The next row of cases didn’t have the BGM name or stamp on it. Instead, it was stamped with a symbol of a giant chain made of several links, making it look like a snake. She opened the first case and pulled out a bottle. It was the same rum except it had a white cap.

  Harper grabbed the bottle from the first case and set it next to this one. She opened this bottle and that’s when it hit her. The sweet smell of methanol and the white caps were the differences between the bottles.

  The third row of cases were once again BGM’s. She opened the nearest and pulled out a bottle of rum. Only the case didn’t have a full set of bottles. Three bottles were filled, but the other three were empty. Harper cracked the lid and smelled. It was rum, but the smell was off. Harper took a tentative sip and knew instantly what it was. These bottles had been watered down.

  Voices seemed to trickle into the tunnel. Finally. She was wondering what was keeping Edie. “I’m in here!” Harper yelled.

  Harper rushed to the door to tell Edie what she had found. A light was dropped down to the ground and then a big black-booted foot came into view on the ladder. Definitely not Edie. Maybe Granger? The next foot came into view and slowly took the next step down. Not Granger. Not a friend at all.

  Harper shoved her phone into her pocket, grabbed a bottle full of the illegal rum, and ducked behind the middle row of stacked cases. Her heart pounded wildly as she heard the man call to whoever was above ground when he saw the broken door.

  “Someone’s down here!”

  Harper’s fingers tightened on the bottle neck until her knuckles turned white.

  “Come out and I promise I won’t hurt you. I’ll even give you a bottle for the road.”

  Sure he would. He’d give her the poisoned bottle that would have her passing out or dying in minutes.

  The man set the light face-up on top of a case. The light made the room glow, but there were still enough shadows to hide in. What it did, though, was give Harper a chance to see who the man was. She slid her head to the side two inches so she could see the man who was bending over to pick up one of the bottles she’d set out. He stood and looked toward the shattered door and Harper had to bite her lip to stop from gasping. She recognized him. It was the waiter who had served her the drink that had caused her to pass out. His boots were black, but his white resort polo made him seem ghostly.

  The man headed back to the door and leaned out to where someone must have joined him. “Search outside to make sure you don’t see anyone else. I’ll take care of our rodent issue.”

  Harper held her breath as the man began to search the room. Harper was on the balls of her feet as she ducked behind the end row. She waited until he started walking down her row before she made her move. She matched his steps as she moved away from him until she was at the end of the row where he’d begun his search.

  She watched the shadowed walls as she saw the silhouette of the man grow larger and larger as he came closer and closer. Harper didn’t dare breathe as she tightened her grip on the bottle. Just a little more . . .

  The man was almost to her when Harper pulled her arm back. When his leg came into view, Harper swung the bottle as hard as she could right into his knee. She felt the crack of the kneecap as the impact sent reverberations up her arm. The man howled in pain and dropped to the ground. Harper didn’t think twice as she pulled her arm back and swung again.

  The man was on to her, though. He raised his arm and blocked the swing. As Harper staggered back, he used the cases to help pull himself up to standing. Then he leapt. Harper had been surprised when he’d blocked the swing, but she was ready nonetheless. She’d been in enough bar fights to know when someone was about to make a move. He lunged forward and she rolled in the direction of his injured knee so he couldn’t pivot toward her. Harper rolled up and leapt to her feet.

  “I know you.” Her voice was like a growl as she remembered the feeling of helplessness she’d had the last time she’d met him.

  “And I know you. I wasn’t going to kill you. I was only going to have some fun with you. But now I think I’ll do both.”

  Harper slowly felt her lips lift into a snarl. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks. We’ll still get to play before I break that pretty neck of yours.”

  Harper moved into a fighter’s stance: her left arm up to protect her face and her right holding the bottle. “Then let’s play.”

  The man grabbed wildly for her, but she was already moving. Harper darted to the man’s bad side. He cursed as he tried to reach for her, but she dropped into a somersault and rolled up behind him. With a brutal swing of her bottle, she took out his other knee. Both legs now collapsed to the ground in front of her. Harper didn’t hesitate. She swung the bottle again and felt it smash against his skull. The man teetered and then crashed to the ground.

  She had to get out of there. She ran for the splintered door and froze when she heard two more voices. They were faint, but they were growing louder as if they were running toward the entrance to the tunnel from the river. Harper looked around. She could hide down by the pirate door, but then she’d be cornered.

  Harper didn’t have time to debate. She needed witnesses as much as she needed to escape. She pulled out her phone. There was a private group on social media just for the town. She pressed the video option and began to live stream.

  “I’m under the cemetery and they’re after me. I’m going to break this door down and run in the tunnels toward the church. Help me, please.” Harper let the camera take in the downed man and all the cases of liquor. Then she propped her phone up on the ground in the shadows. The camera faced the cases of liquor, but it wouldn’t show her slamming her foot through the door. However, it would pick up the yells of the men who where now coming down the ladder.

  Kick after desperate kick, she hammered the door apart until she could squeeze through. Without her phone, she had no light as she slid into the tunnel. She may have been petrified, but she bet she was more prepared for this cat and mouse game than they were. She’d grown up here, playing in these swamps, and hiding in haunted houses. You think you want to play, she thought to herself, come and find me.

  Harper put her right hand to the wall and ran, careful to lift her feet high enough to clear any steps she might come across. She heard the sound of keys and the creaking of the first door opening. The men hadn’t come through it like the waiter had. She heard them shout for her. She heard the threats. Then she heard creaking again as the second door was thrown open.

  Harper didn’t slow as she felt the change in the tunnel. The ground was now compact dirt and she was racing slightly uphill. She pictured herself as if she were in
a helicopter looking down at the church and cemetery. She tried to guess where she was underground in relation to the church.

  That’s when her hand suddenly lost contact with the wall. Harper stopped and felt around. It was a branch off the tunnel. She turned as she tried to envision it from above. She felt around inside the offshoot tunnel to determine which direction it was going. No, this wasn’t right. It was slanting down and would lead back toward the river and she wanted to go toward the church. She knew at some point she’d either need to go straight or turn right, but this right wasn’t it.

  Footsteps were gaining on her as Harper placed her hand back on the main tunnel wall and ran. The tunnels were so dark that there was no adapting to them. It would make no difference if her eyes were open or closed unless she had a flashlight. The tunnel began to curve to the left. No, this would take her away from the church. But then her hand missed the wall again. They were gaining on her and she was out of options so Harper plunged herself down the new branch of the tunnel.

  Her head was killing her. Her vision was probably spinning, but in the dark it was actually helpful because she couldn’t tell. Nothing was going to stop her, though. Well, nothing except the gigantic door she ran straight into. She bounced off it with a thud and felt the air shoved from her lungs.

  The door cracked open. Light stung her eyes. Hands were reaching for her as she simultaneously blinked against the light and tried to suck in air so she could scream.

  “Harper,” a familiar voice hissed.

  “Lydia?” Harper finally gasped as the door was flung wide. “They’re right behind me.”

  “Extinguish the lights.”

  “Reverend Winston?” Harper was finally able to breathe again as Lydia shoved something in her hands.

  “Ready yourselves, ladies.” Yup, that was Reverend Winston.

  “Put them on,” Lydia whispered.

  Put what on? Harper felt Lydia grab the object from her hand and shove it against her face. Oh. Everything was green, but she could see. “When did we get night vision goggles?”

  “I thought they might come in handy since some of us have trouble seeing at night. Remember the bake sale last month? That was to raise money for them.”

  Harper turned her head and saw a giant cat’s head on a spectacular hand knitted sweater. She looked up and a smile spread across her face. Gosh, she loved this town. Mitzy Coburn, a.k.a The Little Old Cat Lady, stood next to her with a boarding pike in one hand and a cutlass in the other.

  “Is that my cutlass?” Harper asked as she stood up.

  “Thought you’d need it. I saw your live video when we were walking up the steps of the church for our weekly knitting club.”

  “Thank you, Miss Mitzy.” Harper kissed the old woman’s cheek and took the cutlass. As she turned, she saw that she stood in a large wide square room filled with women and Reverend Winston. Edie and Tinsley stood next to Lydia. Tamika from the Pink Pig stood with her friends from high school. They were all still in their cheerleading outfits and armed with knives. Joined in the tunnel ready to defend her were seniors, mothers, daughters, sisters, bible study groups, knitting clubs, baking clubs, friends, and family. Reverend Winston stood in the center commanding his flock.

  “Get ready, ladies.”

  Like the parting of the Red Sea, the ladies divided into two groups and pressed themselves up against each side of the tunnel.

  Reverend Winston stomped his feet and everyone stood at the ready. Drawn by Reverend Winston’s stomps, they heard the men turn down the tunnel leading toward them.

  The men raced in and then slid to a stop.

  “Who are you?” a large man in a security uniform asked as their weak cell phone light only showed Reverend Winston standing in the middle of the tunnel.

  The women moved from the shadows of the room, encircling the two surprised men.

  “Hello, gentlemen. I’d like to have a little talk with you about tainted alcohol.” Harper held the cutlass to the security officer’s throat and then laughed out loud when she swore she saw Anne Bonny smiling in the shadows.

  29

  Dare lost C.J. in the crowd. He looked around the path he thought he saw C.J. take. He took a chance and continued down that path. The path curved away from the nightclub and toward the villas.

  Dare had a bad feeling about this. He recognized these villas. It’s where they’d dragged Harper. He began to walk along the front of the buildings. His best chance was to get to the room he’d seen them trying to take Harper to. The condo buildings were separated with tall, thick azalea hedges anchored by palm trees at both ends.

  Dare looked for any hint as to where C.J. could have gone. He finally found it about a quarter mile from the club. It was a drag mark in the sand turning into a ground floor condo. Dare was about to scout the building when he heard the patio door slide open and he leapt behind the azaleas. Dare pressed his back flat against the wall as he hoped C.J. would walk by and not turn to see him. Only C.J. didn’t walk past him.

  Slowly, Dare moved his head just enough to look out. In the distance he could see the white polo disappearing from sight.

  Dare was about to follow him when he looked back at the condo. “Shit.”

  Dare raced through the open patio door. A woman lay unconscious on the couch. Her dress was shoved up to her neck, and it was clear she’d been assaulted. “I’m so sorry,” Dare whispered as he took out his phone and called his boss.

  Alec Horn barked out orders. “Take pictures and then go get that son of a bitch. I’ll call Agent Castle to come help me with the girl.”

  Dare covered her with a blanket and then headed back out the patio door. Anger spurred Dare on as he sprinted after C.J. down the path, slowing as he crested the hill. He moved into the shadows instead of taking the path. In the distance he saw C.J.’s white shirt on the dock of the resort’s marina.

  Dare watched from the shadows as C.J. helped a tie up a boat Dare hadn’t heard approaching. A man got out and they began having a heated discussion. The man was in black and Dare couldn’t get a good look at him. He was gesturing to the boat and that was when Dare saw boxes.

  “Don’t move.”

  The words were as strong and sure as the sound of the safety of a gun being flicked off. Dare raised his hands and slowly turned around. It was one of the boy toys: the waiter named Benny who worked with C.J. If Benny was with C.J., it made Dare wonder if Benny had been involved with Harper’s drugging. That only fueled the fire in the pit of his stomach. His anger was looking for a reason to explode like a volcano.

  “I just want in on whatever got C.J. going on with that woman,” Dare said calmly.

  “I don’t think we’ll let you in on that. You’re already trying to take what is ours.” Benny looked ready for prep school with his side part and freshly shaved face. He looked just like any other preppy boy. But then again, so did Ted Bundy.

  “Isabella? Look, I don’t want her. She’s too old for me. I like them young. Like the girl C.J. just partied with. She was maybe eighteen and that’s about as old as I like to go.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Benny used the gun to motion for Dare to walk toward the boat. “Look what I found!” he yelled.

  C.J. and the man on the dock looked right at him. The man with C.J. was clearly not a waiter. He was dressed in black slacks and a black quarter-zip sweater that, if Dare was right, cost more than Dare made in a week.

  “Ah, the nosy Darrell Young. I hear you’ve been asking about me.”

  Dare looked the man over. He was probably a couple years younger than Isabella with skin that had a much deeper tan than hers, which made his dead gray eyes menacing. He didn’t look like her preppy boy toys, but his age fit. He was short but sturdy and there was something familiar about him. As hard as Dare tried, he couldn’t think of what it was.

  “Cristian. I only asked about you because C.J. said you were his boss and I was afraid I’d forgotten you.”

  Cristian turned his glare on
C.J.

  “He’s lying. He asked me if the C stood for Cristian.”

  Dare rolled his eyes. Cristian noticed. While the eye roll made Cristian doubt C.J., it also let Dare look around. There were two different cases. One was liquor from BGM. However, these had marks on them. Nothing big. It was actually a small x on the bottom right of the case that was normally not there. The other cases looked like they had interlocking Cs forming a chain on them.

  “Is Manny still here?” Cristian asked the boy toys.

  “No. He left after lunch. He won’t be back until after the weekend,” C.J. answered.

  “Good. We’ll take him to the storage area. We need to move these cases anyway. I was on my way here when I got another order so I had to turn around and leave the others to get the next shipment ready. We’ll deal with him and then return tonight to pick up the order.” Cristian told C.J. to unload the cases from the boat and put them in the back of a resort truck while Cristian grabbed Dare’s arm. “Let’s go have a chat.”

  With a gun to his head and Cristian pulling his arm, Dare was led to a second resort truck. Cristian leaned into the bed and pulled out some rope. Dare felt the rope dig into his skin as Cristian tied Dare’s wrists together behind his back. He flexed his hands as the rope was pulled tight to try to earn some wiggle room should he need it.

  Dare almost found it amusing that it wasn’t his life he was thinking about as he was shoved into the truck cab. It was Harper’s life. Would she know he died thinking of his love for her?

  “Well, this is interesting.” Granger said as he fought not to smile. Kord failed and was using his hand to cover his mouth as his shoulders shook with silent laughter at the two men sitting on the floor before the church’s altar. Knitted scarves and hats had been tied around their heads, preventing them from seeing how to use the tunnels to get into the church.