by Mia Sheridan
Locked? In an old sewer? Arryn swallowed hard. Oh God, poor Liza.
“Don’t worry,” he said, as though to himself, his eyes focused on the wall now. “She’ll be set free as soon as we complete this.” He muttered something Arryn couldn’t make out. He was crazy. This guy was stark raving mad and he meant to burn them all to death in this cavern in the ground, and she had no idea why. She wanted to cry, to scream, but she wouldn’t; she wouldn’t do that. She’d be strong. She was her mother’s daughter.
The thing was . . . she recognized him—Axel. She’d seen him somewhere, and in that moment, she realized where. She’d bumped into him on her way to class as she’d been rushing from the parking lot, through campus. She’d dropped her books, all the papers in her hands flying out around her as they’d collided, and though she was late, she’d laughed and told him it was okay, trying to make the big, bear-like man with the wide, stricken eyes feel better about the situation.
“This can’t work without Liza, you know,” Charles Hartsman said. Arryn’s gaze went to him, the man who looked like an older version of her brother. She felt so confused, so scared, her brain still muddy from whatever drug Axel had pumped into her. She was terrified of the man, had always been terrified of him, but . . . he’d helped Liza get free. Why? She didn’t understand it. This whole situation felt unreal, like a horrific nightmare she couldn’t wake from.
“She won’t move,” Axel answered. “There’s no need to worry. She’ll stay right there. Yes, she’ll be afraid, but we’re all afraid.” He looked at the people named Milo and Sabrina, a gentle expression taking over his face. “She’ll cower there until Heaven opens. She’s still here with us. In the underground lair. She hasn’t really left.”
“Maybe she’s not what you think,” Charles said. “Maybe she’s more.” He lifted his head slightly.
Axel trained his gaze on him. He appeared confused briefly, but then shook his head. “Darkness is her deepest fear. It controls her. That’s what this is about, Charlie. It’s about being set free. Where we’re going, there’s nothing to fear, nothing at all.” Axel leaned against the wall, a small smile curving his lips.
“Sometimes people conquer their fears,” Charles said softly. “Sometimes they make sure those fears will never get the best of them again.” But Axel had apparently tuned him out.
Charles Hartsman looked over at Arryn. He looked weak, almost haggard, as if he was withering by the minute. But as she stared, the corner of his lips turned up and he winked at her. Arryn’s eyes darted away, moving to Axel who had picked up one of his gas cans again and was splashing gasoline on the walls. He’d done the perimeter of the room, the door, and now he was dousing the walls. What was left, other than them? When he struck a match, the whole place was going to burst into flames. Arryn pulled herself as straight as she could, determined to do anything possible to delay that moment.
Help me, Daddy, she said in her mind, praying her father could hear her from where she was, that he was on his way to rescue them. But for the moment, all she had were the people in this room. Her father had always told her she was a force to be reckoned with. The memory of his often-said words strengthened her, diminished some of her fear. Yes. She’d be that girl, even here, in the depths of hell where she was meant to die.
“I know who you are,” she said loudly to Charles. He’d let his head hang and now lifted it, meeting her eyes again. Axel looked up too, distracted from his muttering by their conversation. “I looked up my mother’s case when I was younger. The things you did to her . . . you’re a monster.”
Charles tilted his head as if considering her words. “Would you believe me if I told you I was sorry for that?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
“No,” she hissed.
He shrugged, a slight movement of his bound arms.
“That tattoo,” she said, nodding her head toward his chest. “That’s not his name. That’s not my brother’s name.”
Charles regarded her again, his expression placid. “It is his name. It was the one your mother gave him.” His neck jerked slightly as though he was almost too tired to hold it up. “I should have made sure they kept it. That was my mistake.”
“You don’t deserve to have any part of him tattooed on your body,” she said. “My brother is good and kind and honorable. He’s the best person I’ve ever met and he has nothing to do with you.”
Charles gave her what looked like a weary smile. “You’re a real pain in the ass, aren’t you?”
Arryn made a sound of disgust, looking away.
Axel walked over to Sabrina and Milo, lightly tapping their cheeks, though their eyes were already open. Sabrina was crying quietly, and Milo was whispering to her, words Arryn couldn’t hear. “It’s time, Angels.” He brought a matchbook from his pocket. Arryn’s stomach plummeted, fear clutching at every muscle in her body. She didn’t want to die this way. Not this way.
“Axel,” Charles said. “Have you considered that you have this all wrong?”
“Quiet, demon,” Axel said.
“Maybe I’m not the demon. Maybe you are. Maybe I’m the angel, and you’re the demon. Or,” he said, “maybe we’re both.” His voice was lower, softer, no longer filled with the same baiting gusto it’d been filled with before. He was growing even weaker.
He moved closer to Charles, addressing him. “Are you trying to manipulate me, Charles? It won’t work. You of all people should understand evil. You of all people shouldn’t have turned to it yourself. You took your deepest fear and you cast it off on others. You shouldn’t have done that. That’s what makes you a demon. You could have ascended with us.”
“Coming from someone who’s murdered”—he squinted upward—“let’s see, by my count, six people, and those are only the ones we know about.”
“I destroy evil. Someone has to.”
“We’re more alike than you think, Axel. But you’ve lost your mind. There’s no reasoning with you,” Charles rasped.
Axel gave him a small smile, tearing a match from the book. “We’ve gone over this. The time for talking is over.” He let out a rattly sigh. “I can’t live in this world anymore. I want to go home. We all deserve to go home.” He turned in a circle, addressing them all.
“It’ll only be a few moments of pain, and then we’ll all be free.”
And then Axel struck a match, dropping it into a puddle of gasoline. Screams erupted as a trail of fire whooshed toward the walls and instantly began climbing. Spreading rapidly, the room alight in gold and orange flames. A growing inferno.
And in the middle stood the madman, head back, waiting with rapture, to burn.
Behind him, Charles’s feet hit the ground. He straightened, teeth bared as Axel whipped around, one demon facing down another.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Reed jerked, halting the foot he was about to set down and turning in confusion. Was that . . . he swore he’d heard his name coming from the woods just behind him.
“Reed!” He heard it again, this time more distinctly and his heart jolted.
Liza?
“Stop!”
He turned around, rushing toward her voice. She emerged through the trees a moment later, muddy and . . . bloody, dirty tear tracks down her face, her breath coming in harsh gasps.
“Liza!” He rushed to her, taking her in his arms as she collapsed against him, crying and shaking, gripping him.
“Reed, Reed, Reed, Reed,” she chanted between gasps and sobs.
“You’re okay. Baby, you’re okay,” he said, confusion drumming within him.
“. . . rats and snakes and . . .” She was mumbling, as deep tremors rocked through her body, one after the other. “Charles helped me get free . . . he gave me a tool . . . and then the tunnel and . . .”
Charles? No, what? He held her away from him so he could look at her, his eyes moving wildly over her to assess where she was hurt, his mind grasping blindly to understand what was happening, where she’d come from, and how she’d g
otten free. Her eyes looked slightly glassy with shock, but she was looking at him not through him, and that was enough. Whatever she’d experienced, she was holding it together.
“He had you, Liza? Axel?”
She nodded, pulling herself straight, his words seeming to give her renewed strength. “He has them all, Reed. He has Arryn.” She pointed behind him toward the dilapidated house. “In there. He’s going to set a fire. Any minute. Any minute, Reed.”
Reed let go of Liza, reaching for his gun. “Okay. Stay here. Right here. I’m going to call in reinforcements, but I can’t wait. I have to go in.”
“No!” Liza had begun shaking her head and now gripped the front of his jacket as she caught her breath. “No, Reed, you can’t. There are explosives around the perimeter of the property.”
“Explosives?” What the fuck?
“Yes. Where the fence ends. There’s one right there. I don’t know where the others are but there are more.”
Reed glanced over his shoulder, swallowing. Holy shit. He’d been about to step past the fence when he’d heard her call his name. His skin prickled. She’d saved his life and probably his limbs. “All right,” he breathed, his mind spinning. He’d have to call in the Fire Department. They had an Explosive Ordinance Device Unit. He felt sweat pooling at the small of his back. There was no fucking time for that. His sister was in there with a maniac who meant to burn her alive.
Sound behind them caused Reed to swing around, bringing his weapon up as Zach and Ransom emerged from the woods, coming from the same direction Reed had taken. His shoulders lowered as a breath of relief ghosted from his mouth. He lowered his gun. “Jesus, I’m happy to see you two.”
Their gazes flew to Liza and the house beyond and Reed could see the confusion on their faces. But they’d come. They’d answered his call. They were here, and they could discuss all the details later. “He’s got them in that house,” Reed said, nodding back over his shoulder.
Both men retrieved the weapons at their waists, ready to storm the place.
He turned to Liza, speaking quickly. “My car’s back that way,” Reed instructed. “Right through these trees.” He handed her his phone. “Use this for a flashlight and call for help. Go!”
Liza nodded, started to turn and then turned back, grabbing his head and kissing him quickly on his lips. “I love you. I love you so much,” she breathed. And then she turned and she ran into the darkness again.
“Let’s go—” Zach started to say, taking a step forward. Reed put his hand on his chest, stopping him, telling him about the explosives.
“Fuck!” Zach said, gripping his head as he walked in a circle, looking desperately at the house that was so close, and yet, now, so far away. “Oh God,” he said, his eyes widening as his hand fell away from his head.
Reed whipped around. Oh God, oh no. Smoke was billowing from what looked like the foundation of the house, black clouds amassing even as they stood staring. Helplessly. He whipped around. There was no quicker way to the house than past the fence. They could go down to the river and come back up a different way, but that would waste minutes they did not have. And Liza had said there were other explosives too, ones they didn’t know the locations of.
“We’ve gotta set off the explosive,” Ransom said, leaning down and picking up a rock. “No time for anything else.”
Okay, yes. Good. Reed bent down and picked up a rock too. “There’s one somewhere near the edge of the fence!” he shouted as Ransom moved forward. His partner took aim, throwing the rock with all his might. It landed with a soft thud, but no explosion. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
With a roar of crashing timber, flames erupted out of the ground, sparks flying into the sky, lighting the night. Oh no. Oh God. They were in there.
With a shout of rage, Zach threw a rock to the edge of the fence, a raucous blast exploding from the ground. Reed raised his arms as debris flew at them, tiny pellets that hit their skin and rained down around him. His ears rang as he opened his eyes, stepping forward as the air cleared, the smoke from the blast dissipating. “Come on!” he saw Ransom say, though his ears were still useless from the blast.
The house was a burning inferno now, flames licking high into the night, the entire structure crumbling. Reed’s breath came short as his hearing returned, the crashes and roars of the fire making him want to fall to his knees in anguish. An inhuman scream rose up, a piercing shriek that made Reed’s blood tremble in his veins. No one could have survived what was in front of him. No one. Oh God, Arryn.
The three men ran toward the house nonetheless, heat hitting them in waves as the fire rolled and jumped. They rounded the engulfed structure, looking for a way in, some hope for those inside. Reed heard Zach yell something, make a sharp turn away from the inferno and go down in the grass and then he saw them too, three people huddled together on the ground, lying just clear of the blaze that burned without mercy just a hundred feet away. All of them were coughing and gagging, holding their arms over their mouths as they attempted to suck in fresh air. Zach picked up . . . Arryn, it was Arryn. And he ran with her, carrying her to the remains of a stone foundation that might have once been a cellar or a barn several feet away. Reed’s head whipped back around. Milo and Sabrina. The other two people were Milo and Sabrina. Ransom helped Milo up and put his arm around his shoulders, helping him jog to where Zach was.
“Can you walk?” Reed asked Sabrina who appeared stunned. She bobbed her head, still coughing, as tears tracked down her cheeks. Reed helped her up and walked as quickly as possible with Sabrina’s limp, toward the others.
He heard sirens in the very near distance, seconds away. Good job, Liza. Good job. She’d have warned them about the explosives too. They’d be coming in prepared. “We can’t risk moving any farther than this until the explosive unit shows up,” Zach yelled over the thunder of the fire.
It was cooler where they were, and the blaze seemed to be completely contained to the old home, the trees nearby far enough away that a spark igniting them was unlikely.
Arryn was clutching to her father, tears streaking down her cheeks too. “How’d you get out?” Zach asked, pulling her closer. Next to him, he heard Ransom on his phone, calling in their location, but focused in on Arryn.
“Charles freed us, Daddy,” she said.
Zach pulled back, looking in his daughter’s eyes. Reed’s heart jumped. Liza had mentioned Charles too. He’d been shot. Axel had brought him there.
“Tell me what happened,” Zach said.
Arryn took in a big shuddery breath. “Charles gave Liza a tool that she used to escape. Then Axel started the fire. He had gasoline. The whole place started to go up. Charles . . . freed himself. He had another tool or something.” She shook her head. “Everyone was screaming. I don’t know. It was hot. It was so hot.” Her eyes went wild for a second but then she seemed to rein it in. Zach squeezed her hand and she took another breath, continuing. “He fought Axel. Axel caught fire.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “Charles freed us and dragged us out.”
Reed faltered, sitting down hard on the edge of the stone structure, the impact stealing his breath. Why? What was going on?
“Where is he?” Zach asked.
Arryn pointed through some trees nearby. “He went that way. Right through there. He’s injured. Pretty badly, I think.”
“You’re sure he went that way? There are explosives—”
“Yes. He went through there. I watched him.”
“Zach,” Reed said, pointing his finger to the soft earth where deep footprints could be seen in the mud. Zach followed Reed’s finger and then met his eyes, pressing his lips together.
Reed started to stand, opening his mouth to tell Zach he’d go after him. It’d rained most of the day. There’d be more footprints. He could follow Charles’s right off the property where he’d obviously avoided any explosives. But as he stared at the intense look on Zach’s face, he sat slowly back down. “Go,” Reed grated. He moved over, putting his ar
m around Arryn so Zach could stand. “Go now.”
This was Zach’s battle. The one he’d been waiting two decades to wage.
Zach let out a controlled breath and then he turned, running, taking the same path Charles Hartsman had taken.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Zach ran, his weapon raised, following the footprints that had sunk deeply into the mud, stepping in the same places Charles had stepped. Charles was injured. He’d been shot hours ago, and must have lost a lot of blood. He couldn’t be too far ahead. No more than five minutes.
The footsteps veered left, toward the river and Zach followed them, running as fast as he could through the reedy brush, his breath coming in panted exhales. He heard sirens in the distance, fire trucks responding to the fire, and—he hoped—uniform cars on the lookout for Charles. After ten minutes or so, he caught glimpses of the injured man through the trees, a hundred feet beyond. “Stop, Hartsman!” he called, but the man kept running, surprisingly fast and agile for a person who had a bullet in him, had fought a madman, inhaled a lungful of smoke, and dragged three people from a burning building.
Zach jumped over rocks and brambles, hot on Charles’s heels, though the fugitive managed to maintain the gap between them. The river rushed past as Charles led Zach closer to the water, Zach slipping once on the edge of the shore, regaining his footing, and continuing on.
“You can’t run forever, Charles,” Zach called, breathless with exertion as Charles headed uphill now, toward the entrance to the Combs-Hehl Bridge. Where the fuck is he going? Zach’s chest heaved as he ran up the hill after him, stepping onto the shoulder of the bridge. The wail of sirens grew closer. A few cars sped by, crossing from Ohio into Kentucky. Ahead of him, Charles slowed, tripped, caught himself and began walking, a staggered limp. Zach lifted his gun. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he yelled, his voice booming in the still night air.
Zach’s heart slammed against his ribs as he fought to catch his breath. There was nowhere Charles Hartsman could go. He’d caught him.
