Chapter 19 Cade
CADE
I lean my elbow against the window of the truck, rubbing my temple, when I notice movement.
I watch as Allen is released, his clothes in disarray.
He looks confused, lost, his eyes bloodshot.
Good. It’s five p.m.—they definitely took their time letting him out.
According to Jack, he got the bare minimum, but that doesn’t matter now.
He won’t be of this world much longer.
While I waited, I scouted the few chosen locations suitable for the night’s endeavors. About ten miles into the middle of nowhere sits an old abandoned mining facility. No one will hear him there, not even with what I have planned.
I keep my eye on him as he hops into a taxi—most likely headed to the impound lot to retrieve his car.
I tail him, staying a few cars back, knowing I need to be patient.
Despite my body being still, the adrenaline has already hit me.
I try to steady myself with long breaths, but they do little to calm me.
Until you.
That subtle feeling is there again. I haven’t felt it all day, and the fact that I’d go so far as to say I missed it…
is ridiculous. I can feel my resolve starting to give.
Maybe Calli was onto something. Maybe it doesn’t matter if it’s real or not.
Maybe it’s about the comfort that comes from believing.
Frustration creeps in. It’s not real. No, it’s not.
The warmth fades, almost as if you are shrinking away.
I want it to be real.
Even thinking it breaks me, frustration turning to sadness. Knowing that whatever this is… is just a figment of my imagination. Me feeding into my own delusion. Desperate to hold on to the only thing that has ever brought me any kind of true solace. But it also makes me question my sanity…
I want it. I want to keep it. Keep you.
The comfort eases the buzzing in my chest, but it does nothing to calm the desperation I always seem to feel, wanting to keep you close to me.
Sooner than I expected, the taxi turns into a beat-up tow yard. I turn and stop at a liquor store across the street to bide my time. I pull out my phone and text Jack—this will be the last update until it’s done.
Me: Package found, it will be delivered by end of day.
Jack: Be sure to handle with care.
Me: You really are a fucking creep.
I don’t bother waiting for his reply, because knowing my friend, it’ll be unhinged as fuck.
Underneath all those charming looks and charismatic persona, he is one crazy motherfucker.
Hell, just the other week he was talking about his latest obsession.
The guy is certifiable, obsessive, and capable of doing things so heinous it would make a psychopath run for the hills.
One of the many reasons I like to keep the guy around.
And would never want him to be with Calli, not that he would ever try.
The guy is as loyal as a goddamn golden retriever.
I find myself spacing out, eyes on the broken liquor store sign. I hop out, entering the run-down store. I grab the nearest bottle of whiskey and two cigars. As I exit, I notice the sun beginning to dip down in the sky—the October air cool and crisp.
I take a moment to appreciate the view before climbing back into the truck, placing the bag on the passenger seat. If I’m right, once he gets his car, he’ll head out of town. There’s only one way out from where we are, and I doubt he’ll go back the way he came.
Twenty minutes later, I see him exit the impound office with his vehicle, despite his suspended license. He must’ve paid them off, the greasy bastard. He pulls out in the direction I hoped he would.
Perfect. The sun is down, and he’s heading into the desert.
The trap is set.
But to my surprise, he turns around and begins driving toward me. He pulls into the liquor store parking lot, parking far too close to my own truck. I keep my head low, chuckling to myself. The guy gets a DUI and his first stop is to buy more alcohol. That’s actually funny as fuck.
His stop is brief, thankfully, then he’s continuing on in the direction I need him to.
I turn up the radio as I follow behind, closer now.
This needs to be perfect. We’re several miles outside of Vegas now, no other headlights to be seen.
I speed up, hitting the gas hard as I pull up right behind him then swerve into the opposite lane and speed ahead.
I slow down once I’m in front and brace myself.
I brake.
I feel the impact of his car almost immediately. He was only going about forty miles per hour, so he should be relatively okay—as long as he was wearing a seat belt.
I exit the truck and walk calmly to him. The front end of his old truck is crushed in and smoking. Allen is moaning, clutching his clearly broken nose. I pull hard on the door, but it sticks and I grunt as I drag it open. He is, in fact, wearing a seat belt.
“Good. It would have spoiled my plans if you died.”
Allen looks up at me, dazed, before I see the realization spread across his face, his eyes widening in alarm.
“Motherf—”
I knock him out immediately, pulling his body from the car. I drag him over to the now-very-dented bed of my truck and haul his body onto my shoulders before tossing him in the back. I climb into the driver’s seat and make my way to his final destination, my blood singing with adrenaline.
About an hour later, I walk into the dilapidated building where I have the piece of shit tied up. My face is calm, my movements fluid. I can hear his muffled screams before I enter the room.
I say nothing, setting my bag down gently on the table in front of him, and begin pulling out my assortment of weapons, carefully inspecting each one until I decide how I want to start this.
The silence is loud.
I saunter over to him and pull the gag from his mouth.
“Please… Please, Cade… You want money? I—I can give you money… Just please… Let me go,” he says in a tone only a desperate man at the end of his rope could muster.
I don’t respond, turning my back to him once again and going back to the table, my fingers delicately tracing over my options until I land on a hunting knife. Nice and simple.
I grab the chair in the corner and drag it over, placing it backward in front of him, sitting down as casually as the situation allows. I twirl the knife like a toy as I begin to speak, my voice disarmingly soft.
“I’m going to ask you some questions, and if I don’t like your answers, you lose a finger. Simple.”
His breath picks up, chest heaving at a rapid pace, eyes on the knife.
“When did you last have contact with the Covenant.” I don’t pose it as a question, but a demand.
He doesn’t respond.
“Tsk, tsk, Allen. You’re going to need to work with me here.
The amount of pain you endure before your death is entirely up to you.
” I flip the knife in my hand and stand, turning toward the table again, and stab it deep into the wood grain.
It stays put while I reach into the duffel and pull out a cigar.
“You and my father partook in these often when I was a child—I remember it well. You both lit one in celebration after you brutally murdered that little boy.”
He stays silent and it’s beginning to irritate me, the fucking coward.
“You have to understand, Allen, that I’ve been hunting you all down for quite some time—an accidental death here, a suicide there. That is, until your daughter.” I say it in a cavalier tone while pulling out the cigar cutter and matches. His face turns red as I sit back down.
“I know you two weren’t close, but you must know I did it all for you.”
I place the cigar in my mouth and cut the tip, twirling the cutter on my finger.
“You are going to tell me what you know—we both know it’s just a matter of time.”
He finally speaks in a quiet voice, blood dripping down his face from his shattered nose. “Your father and I were friends… How could you turn on your own?”
I chuckle darkly in response, my eyes on the cigar. “I was never one of you. You people disgust me.”
“You were meant to take over after your parents!” He says it like I’ve personally betrayed him. “Why? All for a sister you barely spoke to?”
I surge to my feet, looming over him, one hand braced on the back of his chair. “Do. Not. Pretend you know me. Or my sister. I never gave a fuck about you people. You always took your obsession too far. My parents planned to sacrifice their fucking daughter. They got what they deserved.”
His face whitens as the realization hits him, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “It was you… their deaths. It was you…”
I lean closer to him, teeth bared as I cover his mouth and press the cigar to his cheek, burning the flesh as he groans into my hand.
“I didn’t come here to fucking monologue.”
I grab one of his hands that is bound to his side and slide the cigar cutter onto his middle finger. He jolts at the sudden contact of the cool metal against his skin.
“Your sister—she is doomed, Cade. She’s already marked. Her soul will be his regardless. What’s done is done. You don’t have to do this,” he says in a shaky voice, pleading with me already.
Chop.
Allen lets out a blood-curdling scream, shaking the chair as he thrashes in his bonds.
I grab his neck with a firm grip and lift his head, forcing him to meet my eyes. Tears and spittle drip from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
Disgusting.
“You pathetic son of a bitch.” I hiss the words. “Don’t you dare speak a fucking word about my sister. Who the fuck is leading you assholes!”
“You can’t stop it,” he says with a twisted smile, blood covering his teeth as he attempts a broken laugh while choking on his own blood. “Our God will come for his offering…” He gasps a rattling breath. “Not even you can kill a God, Cade.”
Deluded motherfucker. I can’t fucking stand him. Rage boils to the surface, making my hand shake as I grip his neck.
Stop. Stop. Stop. Fucking stop. Stay calm. Stay. Calm.
I don’t give a fuck what he says, none of it matters. I need to keep my composure.
I shove him away and turn to grab the knife from the table, cutting the ropes binding him. Then I drag him over to the old metal sink. I plug the drain and start the water, watching as it begins to rise slowly.
“Who is leading you?” I ask calmly.
“You killed my daughter, you fucking prick. Even if I knew anything, I’d rather die in my own piss and shit before telling you. I hope she finds you and your pretty little sister so you can watch helplessly as she slits her thro—”
I dunk him under the water, pressing his head down hard, scraping his mangled cheek against the bottom of the sink. I wait until his body stops thrashing so violently before I pull him up.
“Who is ‘she,’ Allen?”
He’s gasping for air, too weak to resist my hold, legs buckling under him.
“Fuck you, little boy. Our God will come, and when he does, I will meet you in hell.”
I dunk him again. Water spills over onto the floor as I wait a bit longer before pulling him up, then I drag him back to his chair, tossing his limp body into it.
I give him a moment to catch his breath and ask again.
“Who is she, Allen?”
He just looks at me with a dead-eyed expression, clutching the hand with the missing finger to his chest. The heat in my veins boils over and my impatience gets the better of me. I grab the knife and stab it into his hand that’s resting on his leg, the blade driving through to the bone.
The scream he lets out is agonizing. My frustration turns into rage…
“Tell me who she is!” I yell, my voice reverberating off the walls as I slam my hands into the table.
“Rosa!” he wails, chin pressed to his chest.
I halt, sucking in a deep breath. Rosa White. Calli was right all along.
I walk back over to him and pull the knife from his hand and leg, using it to cut open his shirt.
“Thank you for your assistance, Allen,” I say, my voice steady once again.
“Will you let me go? I told you… so please, let me go…” He’s sobbing now, already knowing his fate, but I answer him anyway.
“Can’t do that, Allen. This is payback for what you did to that little boy—and who knows how many others.”
Without waiting for more begging, I take the knife and shove it into his gut sideways, slicing through his internal organs slowly. No precision, not caring to spare him any pain.
He barely makes a noise as his intestines begin to spill out in a gory display that makes my stomach turn. He collapses out of the chair and onto the floor, blood pooling around him. I begin to collect my things while he twitches and groans, bleeding out slowly.
“This is the least you deserve, fucking coward,” I call over my shoulder as I make my exit.
Getting to my truck, I remove my boots and gloves, placing them in a metal bin on the side of the building and dousing it with kerosene.
I light the match and watch as the flames rise, waiting long enough that the soles of my boots start to melt before jumping in the truck and making my way north. The road begins to blur—
Allen’s words echo in my head as I drive:
Your sister, she is doomed, Cade. She’s already marked. Her soul will be his regardless. What’s done is done.
Bullshit. They’re a deluded group of power-hungry freaks. There is no God, and if there was, I highly doubt he’d be asking these dumbasses to do his dirty work. Sounds like a shitty God to me.
I drive for about five hours before arriving at a motel. After a shower and some fresh clothes, I sit on the bed. My wet hair drips water down the back of my neck as I absently rub the metal chain holding the pendulum.
I think of you…
You have crawled into my head and spread yourself out like you belong there.
I tug at the chain around my neck, breaking it away.
I can feel you, more than I’ve ever felt you before.
Maybe I’m fucked in the head, but I’m on a suicide mission regardless… So, what does it really matter?
I hold the pendulum in front of me, eyeing it. I remember learning about these things. They’re supposed to let you communicate beyond the veil. I always thought it was bullshit, even so…
“Are you here?”
I sit in the silence and almost feel disappointed. I go to lower it—until the obsidian stone begins to aggressively move in circles.
It isn’t me.
I’m not moving.
I can feel the weight of it being pulled by invisible hands. Chills shoot through my arms, and in this moment, I can’t deny it, can’t deny you.
“You’re real,” I say into the silence. The words feel foreign coming from my numb lips.
This whole time.
You’re really here.
I feel the gravity of my own earth-shattering realization hit me like a two-ton truck. For the first time in my life, I feel hope, warm and heavy. Like a part of the world I never knew just opened up to me and I’m fucking terrified that it will slip through my fingers.
This is real.
And… so are you.
My little ghost.