Chapter 25 #2
My body jolts again, and my eyes snap back open.
The familiarity of the HEMT is gone. Instead, I’m lying on a hard metal floor, and the swinging is much worse.
The drugs were either stronger this time, or I’m actually moving.
As my eyes try to focus on the black surroundings, I catch sight of Cinque and another I haven’t met before.
He looks like he’s just as scarred as Cinque, and probably just as old.
His eyes aren’t quite as haunted, though.
“Ah. You’re finally awake.” The one that I’m assuming is Quattro speaks, and it throws me off a little. His accent is clearly Russian, or maybe I’m just imagining that, too. “We’re two minutes out.”
I try to lick my dry, cracked lips so I can attempt to speak, but my tongue is just as parched.
I can’t even remember the last time I had water.
If I’m correct, it was during what they called a ‘shower’ and it was nothing but pool water.
The chlorine was harsh, but as much as it burned to swallow it, I got whatever I could.
“You will have twenty minutes to complete the task. We will be watching. As a reminder of what will happen if you disobey…” Quattro reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone.
The screen shows the scopes view again, and it’s of Ashia exiting her car in the Attic parking lot.
My heart twists with relief. It’s clear that it’s either very late at night, or very early morning, but at least she looks alright.
Her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s still wearing one of my shirts.
She cradles her little belly as she walks to the door with Zeke, and my heart melts at the sight.
Daisy still strides beside her like she’d take a bullet for her, and that makes me feel even better.
“You will be punished if you don’t eliminate the target in that time frame. ”
My muscles pull and tear as I painfully sit up. The space around me continues to orbit, but I try to piece everything together. They’re sitting on what looks like metal benches, and the uncomfortable floor texture makes sense as I look at two large doors ahead of me.
We’re in a van.
I realize that all too late, and it comes to an abrupt halt.
The sudden stop makes my body jerk forward, forcing my stomach to flip.
They simultaneously open the doors and push me out, causing my body to roll off the back bumper and onto the hard ground.
Every hit bursts behind my eyes, and I bite my tongue to silence myself.
The dirt and rock beneath me are harsh and cold, but the air around me feels refreshing—like it’s clean, and my lungs are thankful for it.
My eyes meet theirs as I attempt to pick myself up, and while Quattro looks like he’s enjoying it, Cinque continues to have that blank look on his face. Quattro flings the card in my direction, and Cinque retreats further into the van.
“Twenty minutes,” he reminds me just before shutting the doors, and I watch as they pull away silently.
After a few deep breaths, I pick my head up and look around to see what I’m working with.
There are trees all around me, and gravel pokes into my palms. Just past the tree line, I can see the faint glow of light, and I automatically assume that’s where I’m supposed to go, because there’s nothing else around but forest and deer shit.
Forcing myself up, I fight to stay upright.
I haven’t been able to freely move in what feels like weeks, and my limbs feel brittle.
My neck strains as I look left, then glance right to assess the dirt road I’m on.
The urge to run in the opposite direction is gut wrenching.
Maybe I could make it. There’s a chance I could find help before they caught me, but what if Ashia doesn’t stay at the Attic?
What if she leaves before I can get home to her, and they kill her because I didn’t listen?
I can’t risk that.
It’s just a kill. I've taken hundreds of lives.
So apart from the dizziness, disorientation, nausea, and pain, this should be simple.
All in twenty minutes. God damn it. I meant it when I said I'd end every life that walks the earth if it meant she was safe, and I'm not going to go back on that now.
But for them to give me only twenty minutes feels like a set up. Hell, it probably is.
I shove the card in my pocket as I start to stumble through the trees.
The uneven terrain coupled with my impairment makes navigating a little difficult, but I keep going.
That small light in the distance seems to get farther as I tread, and I know my time is running out.
I wish they’d have at least given me a watch, but they probably didn’t just to make me move quicker.
Besides, I would’ve just taunted them with the leftover time once I was finished, anyway.
The trees seem to thin out after about another minute, and when I finally pass through the last few, a house comes into view.
It’s one of those pretentious, modern mansions that has a flat roof and sits about three stories tall.
I imagine it has some type of alarm system, and that means this just got even more difficult.
My mind is cloudy, and I feel like I can’t concentrate.
I’m sure that’s just another side effect of whatever they’ve been putting in my veins.
I slowly, but inattentively, search the perimeter before sneaking my way through the grounds.
While I wish I could move at my usual, sneaky pace, I can tell how shaky and unsteady I've become. These drugs and all of the pain have truly taken a toll on my body. It’ll take some work to get back to where I was once I’m out of here, but it’ll be manageable, at least.
The outside seems plain besides some outdoor and pool lighting.
So, it's easy enough to maneuver. As the chlorine hits my nose, flashes of the chemically-treated water assault my mind, making me shiver as I approach the back door.
My head spins, and I can feel the start of headache, but I shake it away.
It’s nice to finally come face to face with something I'm familiar with.
The security system is easy enough to override by pulling a few wires, and by using a piece of the panel to pick the lock, I easily gain access to the home.
While it's simple, it's also time-consuming. The clock is ticking. Every second that slips by could mean another second stolen from Ashia’s life, and I need to act quickly.
I steel my spine and step into the house, but I'm sure to brace myself for any surprises.
The kitchen is just as pristine as the outside, and the all-white aesthetic makes it easy to navigate in the dark.
There’s a few things set out on the counter, like a laptop bag, wallet, and keys.
I walk right over to them first just to make sure I have the right guy, because DeLuca is a crazy bitch like that.
I check the wallet before anything else.
The ID does have the same address, and the picture looks familiar enough to match it with the photo I was shown.
Once I lift the laptop bag and feel its empty contents, I decide to move on.
I glance around the kitchen and note the time. It’s two-fourteen in the morning according to the smart-fridge, and as I walk past it, I check the date. Despair runs through my veins, and my eyes actually start to sting.
Seventeen days.
I’ve been gone seventeen days.
That almost makes me sick. That’s over two weeks since I’ve heard my wife’s voice outside of my own mind.
It’s been seventeen days of nothing but hell, and all I want is to hold her.
I want to breathe in her scent and caress her skin.
The urge to run my hand over the swell of her belly and see how much it’s grown has my bottom lip quivering.
For over two weeks, I haven’t been able to speak to our baby.
She can start to hear us at any time, and I want to make sure she knows who her daddy is when she arrives.
Do I now, though?
Do I want our child to know me like this?
There’s nothing about me that she should be proud of.
I’m weak, and nothing like I want to be for her.
There’s a certain standard that children hold their fathers up to, and I don’t meet that.
As each day passes, and I’m away from them, I fall below those expectations even more.
A father should be able to look into their child’s eyes and promise them safety.
Can I guarantee that? As I look around this random house, that sinking feeling returns to my stomach—proving that I can’t.
My eyes actually sting with tears, and I wipe them away with this ridiculous suit.
I have to get back, no matter what. My wife needs me.
My baby needs me. There has to be a way for me to warn the others while Ashia’s at the Attic.
The laptop bag is missing the computer, but in a house like this?
With an owner that has this much money? There’s a phone somewhere, and that thought has me more motivated than ever.
I storm over to the countertop and pull three knives out. One to pocket, one to hide, and one to kill this guy with if necessary. I don’t even bother checking the rest of the house. If it’s this early, and this guy is really here, there’s an overwhelming chance that he’s asleep.
So, I make my way towards and up the stairs, not really giving a shit if I’m loud or not.
Most of the doors in the hallways are open, but I’m assuming the double French doors at the end of the hall lead to the primary bedroom.
I make my way down a little quieter than before, but I’m sure to keep my quick pace.
If I’m on a time limit, then I’m sure Cinque and Quattro will be back soon enough.
So, I need to make this as quick as possible to ensure her safety.
My body is starting to feel exhausted, and that sickening feeling hasn’t gone away, but I can’t give up. I won’t.
As I turn the knob slowly, I open the left door and step in.
It’s dark as hell in here, but the moonlight streaming in from the cathedral windows helps me see a little, and it shines light on just what I need.
The target is asleep on the far-right side of the bed, and his phone lies on top of his nightstand.
For the first time in seventeen days, the muscles in my chest seem to soften, and a slight glimmer of hope shines brightly enough for me to see.
The owner doesn’t stir as I make my way in.
So, I continue forward and sneak my way to the phone.
I pick it up, and the screen instantly lights up with the face-recognition lock.
Fuck. I’ve already wasted enough time in the kitchen, and there’s no way to know how long it actually took me to get inside.
There’s no time to try and unlock it, so I press the emergency call button, when a gasp shocks me.
“Hey! What the fuck?” The target yells and springs up out of bed.
As he throws a fist out, I duck and slam him into the wall with my shoulder.
My body throbs on impact, and my knees buckle.
Before I can react, he swings his hand again, and his knuckles collide with my nose.
The pain erupts inside my head, but I bite it back.
I don't have enough time to let this faze me. I can't let it.
I slash out with the knife, and as I feel it tear through skin, I know I’ve hit something.
He yells so loudly that my eardrum almost explodes.
The last few minutes have been so quiet that his yelp was an even bigger shock than it should have been.
As if on autopilot, I slice again and manage to swipe along his side.
His hand instinctively goes to cover it, leaving him vulnerable.
So, I don’t hesitate.
I raise the knife high and drive it into his chest, soaking in the moment the blade slides through his skin.
He screams and flops down against the mattress, and I follow as I continue to mutilate him.
Over and over, I raise the knife and bring it back down for another harsh blow.
There can't be any chances that I'm stopped.
He can't fight me while I try to warn my men.
Zeke will protect her. They all will, but Zeke's methods match mine, and if I trust her with anyone, it's definitely him. I just need to let him know. They all have to know to keep her at the Attic until I can make it home.
They can't get her there. They can't get her there.
If he would stop flailing, this would be over a lot sooner.
The blood continues to splatter everywhere, and the iron smell doesn’t feel as good as it used to.
It’s tainted now. As far as I know, this man doesn’t deserve this kind of death.
He could be just an innocent man that DeLuca wanted to dig her talons into, but I’ll never know.
This death will be lost amongst all the others, and even if it refuses and tries to resurface in my memories, I'll force it back down.
Once he finally stops moving, I pocket the knife and turn to pick up the phone from the ground, but a harsh blow to my ribs pushes me back.
The backs of my knees hit the bed, and I’m forced to lie down beside my target.
His blood seeps into my hair, and I can feel the stickiness on the back of my neck.
I can’t help but cringe at the sensation before I snap back to the moment.
As I force myself back up, shock slithers up my spine. Cinque and Quattro are standing above me like two prison guards excited to take me to solitary confinement. Quattro has the target’s phone in his gloved hand, and he shakes his head as he waves the phone in a teasing motion.
“That was quite stupid, Hartley. Also, you’re three minutes late.
The Direttrice is going to have so much fun with your punishment,” Quattro says before Cinque lifts his rifle and brings it down on my face.
Pain radiates from my forehead, and before I can register anything else, the world fades out instantly.