I’d also tried to call Crefloe but either his radio wasn’t working or he was intentionally ignoring my requests for conversation. He hadn’t seemed like the type to run away when things got tough. I could only hope that we could link up in time to try and save Suzie.
I shuddered as a memory shattered past, leaving me with a single image of a young girl, holding the hand of her mother whose body had been blown to bits. Everything completely unrecognizable as human except for her hand.
My damn memories were like old time South Central LA drive-bys, gang bangers drilling unsuspecting pedestrians with bullets. But instead of bullets, I got memories of all the shit I’d seen, my mind having taken snapshots, saving them for reliving later on. Lucky me. I’d trade them for bullets any day. A bullet was so much more preferable than a memory to the head.
Snapping myself out of my fugue, I moved along the inside of the tree line until the house was between the barn and me. I scanned the windows with my ACOG, putting the glowing reticle on each window, searching for movement. Seeing none, I crouched low and ran across the dark space until I was at the rear of the house. I pressed by back to it and listened. A minute ticked by. Nothing.
I slipped up the back steps and tried the door.
Locked.
I pulled out a roll of duct tape and placed an X on the window in the door. Then I applied a piece of tape to the window with my left hand to hold it and hammered the butt of the M4 into the glass with my right. A dull thud told me I’d failed to break the glass. I swung harder this time and was relieved to hear a crack. It took a moment, but I was able to pull the glass free of the window using the length of tape. I tossed the taped broken glass into the dark grass by the stairs, then reached in and unlocked the door. I moved quickly inside.
The air was redolent with the smell of onions.
I eased my way through the kitchen and into a living room. All empty, I padded softly up the stairs, listening intently for even the smallest sound. The master bedroom suite was indeed large. It smelled of medicine and sweat. The bedside table held a tray with various medications including a syringe. Checking outside the window, I had a clear view of the barn. This had to be the window I’d seen the hand move aside the curtain. It must have been the Rev’s room. I vaguely wondered what was wrong with him?
I turned and my head erupted into a galaxy of stars. I fell sideways, my arm reaching out for balance, knocking over the meds.
A dark figure came on me, kicking me in the ribs.
I tried to bring my rifle to bear, but the strap was tangled around my right arm.
Another boot to the ribs, then I kicked out, catching my attacker on the side of the knee.
He stumbled back.
I started to climb to my feet, but he tackled me for my trouble.
He had a sheet in his hands and wrapped it around my face and head, then pulled me to the ground, positioning himself behind me.
My right arm trapped by my rifle, I flailed with my left, first trying to pull the sheet free. Unable to do that, I reached down and grabbed a knife from my belt. I stabbed at my attacker, but couldn’t get close enough. In desperation, I opened my mouth as wide as I could, then jammed the blade between my lips. The keen-edged K-bar parted the fabric which had been smothering me and tickled the tip of my tongue which I’d pulled as far back in my mouth as I could. I adjusted my grip on the knife, but felt a hand chop down on my wrist hard enough to make it go dead.
The knife fell free, clattering to the ground.
I began to kick frantically with my legs. Finding purchase on the stout wooden leg of the bed, I was able to push my assailant against the wall, pinning him there. I realized I had just enough freedom with my right arm that I could use the elbow, so I began to piston it into the man. He held onto the sheet, but I could tell his strength was waning.
I could breathe through the hole I’d made, but I was completely blind. All the while my right arm was elbowing him, my left hand was flailing for a weapon, anything I could use. Then my hand fell on the syringe. I grabbed it and was able to shift my body enough that I could slam it into soft flesh behind me. Once, twice, three times and buried the needle into my attacker’s soft parts.
He screamed and let go of the sheet.
I scrambled to my feet, ripping the sheet away. I fell once, but picked myself back up and got my rifle around.
My attacker lay in a fetal position, the needle stuck into his crotch. In the light from the barn, I could see that it was the narrow-faced man I’d seen earlier. His mouth was open in wordless scream.
I spied my knife on the ground and snatched it up. I slit his throat from ear to ear, listening for the escaping air as it began to bubble the blood.
Fucker thought he had me.
I spit on him, then walked out the door.
Once I’d cleared the upper floor, I went to the basement. I found her standing, chained to a wall. I shined my light on her using the lowest setting. She wore a football helmet. Her mouth was covered with a gag. What the hell was going on with this girl?
She watched me approach with wide eyes.
“Can you hear me,” I asked softly.
She nodded.
“Can you understand me?”
She nodded again.
I checked the windows. They had heavy shades across them, so I braved more light. I flashed the light on her face and saw that something wasn’t right. I got closer and noticed wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Something about her eyes bothered me.
I reached in and removed her gag.
She licked her lips and coughed gently, then blinked her eyes at me, the straight lines of her lips curling into a gentle smile. “And who might you be? My knight in shining armor?”
I blinked. What had I just heard? That easily wasn’t the voice of a child.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Old enough to know a few ways to make you moan.”
I shook my head. The juxtaposition of the young girl and the words coming out of her mouth were stunning. But then she wasn’t a young girl, was she? Part of the reason I’d thought she was young was her stature. She couldn’t be five feet tall. Flat breasted with elfin features, she could easily be mistaken for a child. But this was no child. This woman was in her late thirties.
“Why the helmet?” I asked.
“Keeps me from hurting myself,” she said. She waggled her wrists, causing the shackles to clank against the stone wall. “I’m not happy with these without a safe word.”
I shook my head again. This was not at all what I’d expected. My idea was to grab the girl in the basement and publically trade her for Suzie, believing they’d want to keep the girl alive. But this… this was something different altogether. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what to do with her.
“Are you going to stand there and undress me with your eyes,” she purred, “Or are you going to unchain me?”
I approached and removed the helmet. Her blonde pigtails were mussed much like bed head. She hooked a leg around mine and pulled me to her, so I could feel her bony frame beneath mine.
“I want you,” she breathed.
I felt myself growing hard and hated myself for it. My hard on was stranger because it wasn’t until a few seconds ago that I’d thought she was a little girl.
I pushed away from her angrily.
She eyed my crotch and smiled. “Is that for me?”
Bonkers. Totally. Fucking. Bonkers.
I turned away, trying to figure a way out of this, but there wasn’t one. I just had to get it over as quickly as possible. Suzie’s hissed WWWSD klaxoned through my mind, only to be replaced by an image of Shatner kissing green-haired Shayna from The Gamemasters of Triskelion in a chaste embrace, then dissolving into Kirk face sucking with the drop-dead gorgeous Deela from Wink of an Eye, then to Marta, green-skinned seductress from Whom the God’s Destroy body surfing Kirk’s chest, then finally to a five-foot blonde woman in a football helmet who looked like a fifth grader.