One by One: A brutal, gritty revenge thriller that you won't be able to put down.

by Robert Enright

  Alex, dressed in a similar suit to the groom, handed over the wedding ring when requested and Lucas held it in his hand tightly before placing it on the finger of the most important person the world had ever introduced him to.

  The symbol of love that bound them together.

  Suddenly, the entire room flashed white.

  Lucas held the ring tightly.

  Everything faded as it flashed white again.

  Lucas was alone.

  Lucas’s fist clenched tightly around Helen's delicate wedding ring, the warm air of the night sky wafting around him as he returned to reality. Lucas looked out over the nearby farm; the animals had gone in for the evening and so he gazed out over the fields, his eyes losing the grass into the far darkness. Behind him, the lights of the batting cage burned brightly.

  He held on to the ring, feeling every moment he’d spent with Helen, every 'I love you' they’d uttered during the eight years of happiness. He shut his eyes, the anger pushing his lids together hard.

  He wanted to reach out and touch her face again.

  To rest his hand on the small of her back as they ambled through the supermarket.

  For her to push his nose up and oink at him one more time.

  The sudden jingle of chains rattling against a metal fence made Lucas open his eyes. He let out a deep sigh, slid the wedding ring into his pocket and walked into the batting cage.

  Lewis felt intense pain pressing against the front and back of his skull. It felt like a giant hand was crushing his brain and causing him to moan. He wanted to hold his head.

  But his arms wouldn’t move.

  The ache in his shoulders caused him to open his eyes, his blurry vision and bright lights stinging all the way through his retinas. He tried again to bring a hand to his head and again was unable to do so. He winced at the sound of metal clanging against metal, and the cold bite of steel against his thin, breakable wrists.

  'What the fuck?' he muttered, his words slurring over too much saliva dribbling over broken teeth and a quivering bottom lip. The throbbing pain bounced from the left side of his forehead to the back of his skull like a ping pong ball. His stomach felt like it had been hit with a mallet.

  The world began to resolve before him, fine lines of detail becoming clear. It took him a while to realise he was standing in the batting cage. A bright floodlight above had him in its beam, his eyes wincing and trying their best to look anywhere else. The cool air of the evening clung to his feeble body as he tried to step forward onto the mats.

  His legs hit metal and his body fell back against the mats behind him.

  His legs had been stationed apart by a few feet, both ankles wrapped in thick, industrial chains, the links veering off behind and firmly attached to the mesh fence of the batting cage. His small, muscle-less arms hung above him, the wrists chained together above his head. He couldn’t move.

  He heard the gated door to the cage open to his left, the silhouette of a figure moving in his peripheral vision.

  “Hello?”

  He heard the footsteps make their way around the divider separating the individual batting spots and there he was.

  The memory filtered through his fogged brain.

  Lucas closed the door.

  He turned.

  The customer...

  The bright light burnt Lewis’ eyes. Cold sweat slithered down the back of his neck. His face twisted in rage.

  “You!”

  Lucas didn't even bother acknowledging Lewis, instead standing ten feet away from him and looking at the control panel for the 'Pin Point' batting apparatus that Lewis himself had fawned over earlier. Lewis struggled, in vain, against his chains.

  “Let me go you piece of shit.”

  Lucas raised a hand to his chin, casting an eye over the machine's controls with interest.

  “You fuck! Do you know the fucking mistake you're making?”

  Lucas coughed slightly, not even looking in the direction of the insulting tirade. His eyes lit up and he reached out with a steady hand and pressed a button on the underside of the panel. The machine opposite Lewis hummed into life, a mechanical yawn as it awoke from its slumber.

  “You're a dead man. You hear me. A dead man!”

  Lucas calmly inspected the machine while it rumbled into life, before slowly sliding his arms out of his leather jacket. He folded it neatly and rested it on top of the panel, the jumper he was wearing clinging tightly to his large frame. Lewis felt inadequacy join fear in his current state of emotion. Lucas cleared his throat and then took a few steps towards the shaking Drayton, sweat patches forming under his elevated arms.

  “Unchain me you prick or I'll fucking kill you!”

  The panic in Lewis's voice and eyes betrayed his attempt at intimidation. Lucas stared at him coldly.

  “Your brothers...” the voice said calmly. “Names and addresses.”

  Lewis started laughing, nerves creeping in between breaths. He shook his head, looking up at his captor.

  “Do you know what you’ve done? He chuckled some more. “Do you even know who I am?”

  “You're Lewis Drayton,” Lucas answered. “A member of the Drayton family, who apparently have this entire city running scared.”

  Lewis nodded along, an undeserved sense of victory on his face. Chains rattled against the fence.

  “That's right. And that makes you a dead man.”

  Lucas raised his eyebrows.

  “You know what we can do.” Lewis said triumphantly.

  “Do you know who I am?” Lucas asked, his eyes locked on his prisoner. Lewis seemed surprised at the question.

  “Some prick who thinks he can make a name for himself? We've come across your type before.”

  Lucas took a few steps forward and Lewis swallowed nervously, sweat trickling down his bony spine. The humidity in the air suddenly felt thicker.

  “My name is Lucas Cole. Two weeks ago, you and your brothers abducted my wife. You raped her. You killed her.”

  Realisation set in and Lewis's eyes grew wide with fear. The emotionless voice poured forward from the emotionless face.

  “I know exactly what you and your brothers can do. Sadly for you, you have no idea what I am capable of.”

  Lucas let the words hang for a few moments, staring into the eyes of a man who had helped his wife die. Lewis couldn't find any words.

  “Right. Your brothers. Names and addresses.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Lewis drew phlegm up through his throat and nasal passage and spat it in Lucas's direction. It missed by a few feet. Lucas didn't react, staring instead at the pathetic runt in front of him.

  “Okay. Let's have a play with this then, shall we?”

  Lucas strolled back to the control panel, the instructions that Lewis himself had given him earlier in the day fresh in his mind. He pressed the 'sight' button and after a few moments, a red dot projected from the machine on the mat just to the side of Lewis's ribs.

  “Now if I recall correctly,” Lucas continued, “it’s these arrowed buttons here that control the beam.”

  Lucas watched the red marker move slowly, following the light as he pressed on the keys. Lewis tried to jerk his body but the chains held him in place. The light came to a stop on his right knee.

  “This isn't fucking funny!” Lewis screamed, terrified.

  “Oh I agree.”

  Lucas pressed the 'release' button.

  The machine kicked up in volume, the sound of one of the rock-solid baseballs being scooped up from the pile and loaded into the barrel seeming louder than normal. Without the hustle and bustle of the customers, the cage felt isolated. A place where no one would go. Where no one would look. Lewis fought against his chain, unable to muster the strength to free his leg of the red target.

  The machine fired.

  The ball exploded outwards, whistling through the night air and colliding straight into Lewis's kneecap. The impact caused the patella to instantly shatter, the pain erupting through L
ewis's body making him scream furiously into the dark, like a werewolf at a full moon.

  The ball bounced to the floor, rolling innocently off down the ramped floor and back into the line for recycling. Lucas watched patiently as Lewis’s head arched over, his eyes watering. He was trying to breathe through his agony, his knee a bag of broken shards.

  “Your brothers. Names and addresses.”

  “Fuck! Fuck!” Lewis whimpered.

  Lucas exhaled disappointedly and returned to the panel. His fingers found the arrow keys again and swiftly brought the target to Lewis's left knee. What remained of his right one hung a few feet away. He pressed 'release' again.

  Another white blur fizzed past, cutting through the calm, quiet night and shattering Lewis's other kneecap. Another resounding roar of anguish filled the cage and Lucas watched patiently as Lewis attempted to deal with the pain.

  He thought of Helen.

  Tears were now streaming down Lewis's face, his feet planted firmly on the ground. The weight of his body only added to the pressure on the sacks of bones that were once his knees. The shards ground within the skin.

  “Please,” Lewis begged. “Please stop!”

  “Your brothers. Names and addresses.” The tone was the same: calm and inflectionless.

  “Suck my dick!” Lewis yelled in defiance, the pain racing up to his brain and nausea beginning to take hold.

  “I'm not going to suck it.”

  Without even looking at the panel, Lucas manoeuvred the target until it was resting on Lewis's crotch. Lewis closed his eyes and winced, praying to a God who would, quite rightly, turn his back on him for the things he’d done.

  “What did you say earlier? Oh yeah, if we turn this dial all the way up it’ll come out like a rocket.”

  Lewis begged with his eyes as Lucas turned the dial, the power monitor increasing, the bars going from green to red and filling the screen. Lewis looked at the red dot on the zip of his jeans and more tears welled up.

  “I suggest you tell me what I want to know, Lewis,” Lucas said helpfully. “Otherwise this is really going to hurt.”

  “Please, just let me go.”

  The ball shot out at double the speed, the impact a sickening thud. Lewis immediately hunched over as much as his chains would allow and vomited onto his feet. He dry heaved through sharp breaths, the level of pain becoming increasingly difficult to bear. He felt the destruction of his testicles, the agony joining the current batch travelling from his knees up through his neurons to his brain.

  “Lewis.” Lucas waited.

  Lewis couldn’t articulate any words. The arrogant, threatening Drayton had been replaced by a broken, whimpering wreck. Lucas watched, feeling not one ounce of remorse. His hand had found its way into his pocket, his finger gently turning the wedding ring over and over. His face hardened, the memory of his dead wife hitting him like a slap in the face. He moved the target to Lewis's rib cage, just under his right armpit.

  He fired.

  The ball careered through the air.

  The ribs broke instantly.

  Lewis hung from his wrists, his knees no longer able to perform their duty now they’d been decimated. The ribs floated in his chest, the pain of internal bleeding now at the forefront. He sobbed for mercy.

  Lucas responded by moving the red dot so it was painted over the bridge of Lewis's hooked nose.

  “Your brothers, Lewis.”

  Lewis hung for a moment, the cage spinning around him in a hazy, black blur. The piercing light caused him to squint, the pain filling his body until he felt like he would burst. Hope had long since left him.

  He shook his head, weeping as he did so.

  When the round, solid ball struck Lewis’ nose, the explosion it caused was impressive. The bridge instantly shattered, flattening against Lewis's gaunt, rat-like face. Blood burst through both nostrils, down his mouth and onto his shirt. Some of it mixed with the vomit on his feet. The impact caused a deep gash along his forehead, meeting his eyebrows at either side. Breathing was difficult, blood filtering its way down his windpipe.

  “Okay! Okay!” Lewis begged, weakly. “Please, just stop.”

  Lucas removed his hand from the panel and admired his work. One of the people involved in the death of his beloved stood before him, the pain he’d inflicted entirely visible. Lewis was broken, in body and spirit.

  Lucas felt nothing for him.

  He strode over to the limp, grisly mess and placed two fingers under a bloody chin. He tilted his head up, looking into the bloodshot eyes.

  He saw fear.

  “I don't really have any contact with them,” Lewis managed, breathing frantically. “I try to visit them all the time, but they don't want me there.”

  Lucas stood firmly in place, waiting for more. Lewis was fading.

  “They contact me when they need me, I swear to God!”

  “Who does?”

  ““Tommy,” Lewis swallowed, tasting his own blood. “My brother Tommy. He does everything for Curtis. Fuck knows why, the man is an animal. Tommy's the one who actually killed her.”

  Lucas leaned in close to Lewis, who was now trembling uncontrollably. The metal of his chains rattled above them.

  “Her name was Helen.”

  Lewis began to cry, tears Lucas ignored.

  “Tommy killed her – Helen,” Lewis continued. “Harry says the two of them argued about it...”

  “Harry?”

  “He's the only one I still talk to. He buys coke from me. The guy's an embarrassment to the family.”

  “Was he there?”

  Lewis nodded.

  Lucas took a deep breath.

  “Where can I find him?”

  “At the club.”

  “What club?!” Lucas's voice broke with anger for the first time.

  “The Hive. Curtis lets him run it, it's some crummy strip club. The card is in my wallet.”

  Lewis turned his head to the side, trying hard to breathe, to see himself through the pain. Lucas reached into the back pocket of Lewis's jeans; he gritted in pain as it jolted his broken knee.

  Lucas opened the wallet and thumbed through it. He pulled out a few bank cards, which he dropped into the blood-infused sick pile at his feet. He found a few restaurant cards, offering special offers and free meals in return for stamps. They joined the bank cards.

  He then pulled out a black card with electric orange writing. 'The Hive', with an orange outline of a woman leaning against a pole. He turned it, the address leaping out at him.

  He pocketed the card, feeling it slide next to the wedding ring. The wallet splashed into the puddle below and Lucas then fished out car keys from Lewis's front pocket. He jangled them in front of Lewis, claiming ownership of the vehicle without saying a word or receiving any rebuke. The only sound was the hum of the 'Pin Point' machine. The air felt cooler as Lucas stared at Lewis, who was weeping to himself.

  “Thank you, Lewis.”

  Lucas strode back to the panel, retrieving his leather jacket from the top of it. He held it in his hands, remembering the surprise as he pulled it from the bag that night in the hallway.

  The look of excitement on Helen's face.

  Her beautiful face.

  “What have you done, Lucas?”

  Helen's voice registered just louder than a whisper, the words floated around him. He felt her presence, the white smudges of her gown in the corner of his eye. He looked straight ahead, the misty vision of Helen staring a hole right through him. Her blue eyes, no firm edges to them, were fixed on his stern, blank face. He drew his lips into a thin, firm line, refusing to turn.

  He shook his head.

  She was gone.

  “Hey!” Lewis's voice croaked, gurgling a small amount of blood.

  Lucas ignored it as he pulled his leather jacket over his large, muscular arms. He pulled the jacket straight over his chest and stuffed the car keys in the pocket.

  “HEY!” Lewis managed a scream.

  Lucas look
ed at him blankly and turned towards the exit.

  “I told you what you wanted!”

  Lucas stopped, looking up at the night sky, Lewis hung from his chains, his body destroyed by Lucas's vengeance.

  “You can let me go now.”

  Lucas turned, looking at Lewis one final time. The red dot from the scope still flickered on the centre of his crushed face.

  “I never said I’d let you go.”

  Lewis's eyes burst with fear as Lucas switched the panel to 'Auto-fire'. Lewis yelled in vain as Lucas walked out of the batting area. He pushed open the mesh door and began his journey to ‘The Hive’. He disappeared into the night. The machine roared into life, the loading mechanism working loudly as it loaded ball after ball into its chamber. Lewis tried to block out the pain, his knees were gone, his ribs shattered. Blood poured from his face. His chains rattled ferociously as he struggled for freedom.

  The first ball loaded into the cannon.

  The laser dot shone directly on his face.

  Lewis screamed into the darkness of the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Starling had almost enjoyed his evening off.

  He and Annette had lain in bed until the early afternoon and when she awoke from her sleep, she cuddled into him. They made love again, this time slower and more tenderly than when they’d collided earlier that morning. As she showered, Starling stretched between the bed sheets, wondering if it was too soon to propose.

  The thought left his mind quickly when she returned, one towel wrapped around her tight, toned body and another around her hair. Her skin glistened.

  “I want to go bowling,” she declared, smiling at the handsome officer lying in front of her. He agreed and hopped in the shower himself before they left.

  They played a couple of games, playfully arguing about Annette's need to raise the side barriers. Even with them up, she still bowled a pretty appalling game and faced many sarcastic comments, especially when Starling nailed a couple of strikes.