Silas Page 8

  I flinched. “This isn’t the same, Rolf. She’s not mine. She’s not anything to me. Just let her go.”

  He chuckled in my ear. “And then I’ll kill her. And you’ll watch all of it.”

  I felt sick.

  “You’ll watch all of it, because you’re special, Drake. I can kill you as many times as I want, can’t I? And you’ll just come right back.” He shifted position, pulling out a gun. He settled it against my forehead. “What are you, Drake? You weren’t just my wife’s plaything, were you? French had you doing something more than that. You’re a weapon, aren’t you? An indestructible weapon.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “What did Jolene French make you into?” he said. “And what happens if I shoot you in the head?”

  I swallowed.

  “Let’s find out,” he said.

  The pain was like a water main burst in my head, everything exploding and gushing and pounding all at once. And then—

  Darkness.

  * * *

  “Interesting,” Rolf whispered as I opened my eyes.

  I looked around. I was still in the van, but it wasn’t moving anymore. I was still tied up. But Christa was awake. She was huddled in the corner, staring at me in horror.

  At first, I was afraid that Rolf had done something to her while I was out, but then I realized that I was covered in blood and gore—my own blood and gore—and I probably looked pretty horrific.

  “So, I can kill you over and over and over again,” said Rolf, laughing. He raised the gun to Christa. “What about her? Can she do the same trick?”

  “No,” I said, struggling to sit up. “No, she can’t. Please don’t.”

  He grinned. “Excellent.”

  This wasn’t good. There was nothing about this that was good. We were in deep trouble.

  “Well, this is going to be fun,” said Rolf. “I am going to have a lot of fun with you, Drake. And when I’m sick of having fun with you, I’ll have fun with her. And then I’ll some more fun with you.” He laughed again.

  He opened the doors to the van and hopped out, still chuckling.

  Then he slammed the door on us, closing us inside.

  Christa spoke, her voice quavering. “Why is he…?”

  “Well,” I said, “he’s insane.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They threw us in a dank, cement hole in the ground, a cellar of some kind. The walls and the ceiling were constructed out of concrete blocks. The floor was poured concrete, with a drain in the center. There was a toilet hanging off the wall in one corner. A rusty sink sat next to it.

  There were five other people in the room, all of them male. They all looked fit and young. Early twenties to mid thirties.

  That was typical, from what I remembered. Rolf liked to hunt prime specimens. He wanted them young and strong.

  Christa clung to me. She’d been crying, and her face was red. I wished that I could do something to make this better for her, but I couldn’t think of anything. Patting her on the head and saying comforting things wasn’t really going to help her either, so I hadn’t been doing it.

  “Oh,” said one of the people, a guy with greasy, sandy-colored hair. “Looks like we’ve got fresh meat.”

  “A girl,” said another of them, turning greedy eyes on Christa.

  I pushed her behind me. “An off-limits girl.”

  She started crying again.

  “Hey, hey, darlin’,” crooned a voice from the darkness. “Why don’t you come over here, and I’ll make you feel all better?”

  It would be better if she’d stop crying. A lot better.

  As if she read my mind, I heard her sniff behind me and quiet down. She drew herself up, stepping away from me. “I’m fine.”

  I looked at her. I felt better if she was hanging onto me. But I wasn’t going to push it. I didn’t want her to feel as if I was a possible threat. If she was afraid of me, I couldn’t protect her. My instinct was to contain her, but I needed to let her move on her own. I’d keep an eye on her.

  “So,” said the first guy who’d spoken, “what the fuck happened to you?”

  I was still covered in blood from when Rolf had shot me in the head, but I wasn’t going to go into all of that. The best thing to do right now was to try not to antagonize these guys. I was fairly sure that I knew what was going on here, and if I was right, we were all on the same side.

  Well, we all had a common enemy, anyway.

  “Same thing that happened to you,” I said. I looked around at all of them. “Let me guess, you were serving out the very end of your sentence on Death Row. Your last appeal didn’t fly. Your execution date was set. At the last minute, they tell you they’re transferring you to a different facility to give you the needle. Next thing you know, you’re here.”

  Christa furrowed her brow, shooting a confused glance at me.

  “We already know this about each other,” said the sandy-haired man. “You want a medal for figuring we’re all the same?”

  “That’s the thing,” I said. “We’re not the same. My name’s Silas.” I pointed at Christa. “That’s Christa. And I know why you’re here and not getting a lethal injection someplace.”

  The sandy-haired man raised his eyebrows. “I’m Emmett.” He pointed around at the other men, introducing each in turn. “That’s Milo, Brandon, Ken, and Ross.”

  Each of them looked at us. They were a little intimidating.

  “What’s different about you?” said Emmett. “Except that the fact that one of you is female, that is.”

  “Rolf put me here for personal reasons,” I said. “He’s got it in for me. He doesn’t have anything personal against you guys. You’re just walking dead men to him. He figures that if you’re gonna die anyway, he might as well have a little bit of fun making sure it happens.”

  “So whoever’s taken us plans to kill us?” said Emmett.

  “Fuck,” said Milo.

  “We assumed that was the case,” said Emmett to Milo.

  “Not just kill you,” I said. “He’ll bring in two or three of his rich buddies. They’ll let us all go free in the wilderness out here. And then they’ll hunt us down. Like animals. They’ll be armed. We won’t. If any of us manage to give them a good chase, so much the better. They like dragging it out.”

  Christa whimpered. “No.”

  I reached for her.

  She let me tug her against me, and I held her body against mine. She shook.

  Emmett stood up. “I assume you know this because of your personal connection with this man. What did you call him? Rolf?”

  I nodded. “That’s right.”

  “And she’s here to further torture you?” said Emmett. “He thinks watching her die will hurt you?”

  “She’s not going to die,” I said. “None of us have to. We have an advantage. We know what’s going to happen to us. Usually, they let people free and start shooting at them. We can make a plan. We can get out of this.”

  Milo narrowed his eyes. “And why should we believe you? What if you’re just part of all of this? What if we can’t trust a thing you say?”

  “Why don’t you just let us have the girl?” said Ross, leering. “If we’re all going to die, then maybe it’d be nice to have some of that sweet ass before we go.”

  Christa moved away from me, still shaking. “Shut up,” she said. “You don’t get to talk about me like I’m not here.”

  “No one touches Silas’ woman,” said Emmett, looking at the others pointedly. “Got it?”

  “Who died and made you king?” said Brandon.

  “Just listen to him,” said Ken. “He’s right, anyway.”

  Christa opened her mouth, undoubtedly to tell everyone that she didn’t belong to me.

  I nudged her, shaking my head. It was easier this way. Cleaner.

  She glared at me for a minute, but then she seemed to acquiesce. She looked down at the floor.

  “So, you have a plan, Silas?” said Emmett. “Some way to
get us all out alive?”

  “Not a plan exactly,” I said. “We need to outrun them. We need to get away from them. I don’t know how we’re going to do that, but we’ll need to work together. We’re going to have as many as half a dozen men out there with guns trying to kill us. They’ll be well fed, happy, and having fun. We can’t afford to be squabbling amongst ourselves.”

  Emmett inclined his head. “The man has a point.”

  “Yeah,” said Ken.

  “Anyone not on board?” I asked, glaring out at them.

  No one said a word.

  * * *

  They came by and opened a grate in the door. They passed in trays of food for us. Huge portions of meat, potatoes, and vegetables, probably meant to give us as much energy as possible for the hunt tomorrow.

  They yelled in to us that this was our last meal, and that we should do our best to enjoy it.

  Ross got up and went to the door. He banged on it and yelled back.

  They only laughed at him.

  After a while the voices outside went away.

  We could see the light outside only under the door. It slowly faded.

  It was night.

  The others began to fall asleep, clearly used to the routine.

  I was afraid to sleep, even though I knew I was going to need my strength tomorrow. I didn’t want to leave Christa unprotected. Ross might have given lip service to the idea of leaving her alone, but I didn’t trust that.

  I told her to stay close to me, and I wrapped a protective arm around her, holding her against my body. “I won’t let them touch you,” I whispered to her.

  She looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. But she lay her head down on my chest, and she closed her eyes.

  I found myself enjoying the heft of her body next to mine. She was soft and small, and I wasn’t made of stone, even though we were stuck in a prison underground. I did my best to ignore what I was feeling, but that only seemed to make it worse. I couldn’t seem to stop being aware of all of her curves. Of the fact that my hand was resting against the swell of her hip. That her tits were pressed against me. That I was holding her.

  I worked so hard at trying to keep my mind off it, that I managed to distract myself from my attempt to stay awake.

  I slipped into sleep, Christa snug against me.

  I woke up some time later because she was moving, extricating herself from my grasp.

  I grabbed her. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “I have to pee,” she said. “I was waiting until everyone was asleep.”

  “Oh,” I said, letting go. “Okay.”

  She moved away from me and went to the corner, where the toilet was.

  It was still and silent in the room.

  “Are you watching?” she whispered, her soft voice carrying across the room.

  I forced myself not to turn in the direction of her voice. “No.”

  “But you’re listening.”

  “I can’t help it,” I said. I felt for her. If the situation were reversed, and I was in a room with a bunch of women, and I had to take a piss, well…

  “Hold your ears,” she said.

  “Christa—”

  “Please.” There was a note of desperation in her voice.

  I plugged my ears.

  I could hear her anyway, but I didn’t take my fingers out until she touched me on the shoulder to let me know she was back.

  “Of course there’s no toilet paper,” she said.

  “Human beings survived without toilet paper for thousands of years,” I told her.

  “Easy for you to say,” she said.

  Maybe she was right. “Sorry. You been holding it all that time?”

  “I thought I was going to burst,” she said. She lay back down against my chest. “Thanks. For not listening.”

  I put my arm around her again. “Sure.”

  “Silas?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry you’re mixed up in this.”

  “Are they really going to kill us?”

  “I’m not going to let them,” I said. “Griffin would never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

  “Well, that won’t matter if you’re dead, will it?”

  “I won’t be,” I said. “Neither of us will be.”

  “You owe me answers, Silas. Who is this guy? What does he want with us?”

  “His name’s Rolf. He’s a rich fuckwad who thinks that the rules don’t apply to him and that he can do whatever he wants. He bought up a lot of land in West Virginia, supposedly to preserve it, and to keep it from being developed or mined or anything like that. But he really just wanted it to make his own private hunting grounds. People know that he hunts here. They just don’t know what he hunts.”

  “So, he gets people who are on Death Row and hunts them for sport?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s got a lot of friends in high places. He pays people off. He does what he wants.”

  “And how do you know all of this about him?”

  “My path has crossed Rolf’s before. And when I found out what he was doing, I told his wife. He didn’t want her to know.”

  “So that’s why he wants to kill you? Because you know his secrets?”

  “No,” I said. “He wants to kill me because I slept with his wife.”

  She pulled away from me. “What?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “I’m here, and some guy is trying to shoot me, because you couldn’t keep it in your pants?” Her voice was rising.

  “Shh!” I cast a glance around at the other men. They still seemed to be sleeping.

  “You fucking asshole.”

  “Christa—”

  “Did you follow her around too? Did you tell her that you couldn’t stop thinking about her?”

  “Quiet,” I said. She was going to wake everyone up. “No, it wasn’t actually my idea to sleep with her. It was hers.”

  “Did you know she was married?”

  “Well, yes, but you’re not exactly understanding the situation—”

  “I don’t believe you.” She scooted several feet away, leaning up against the concrete wall and hugging herself. “I’m in this mess because of your damned cock.”

  I rest my head against the wall. The hell of it was, she was right. “I’m sorry.”

  “I hate you, Silas Drake.”

  I ran a hand over my face. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Sure you aren’t,” she said. “Because you’ve done such a great job so far of keeping me safe.”

  I cringed.

  “Just shut up and leave me alone, okay?”

  “Look, I—”

  “Don’t.”

  * * *

  When I woke up, the door was open.

  Emmett was crouching at the top of the steps, peering outside.

  Ken was awake too, standing at the bottom, looking up at Emmett. “You see anyone?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

  Emmett shook his head.

  I got up and went to stand next to Ken. “They’re probably out there waiting for us.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” said Emmett. “An ambush.”

  “Kick everything off with a little bit of bloodshed, right?” I said. I moved past Ken and walked up the stairs. I was wearing a long-sleeved button up shirt over my shirt-shirt. I took off the button-up shirt and tossed it out the door.

  The response was immediate. Gunfire bursting out like the drum section of a marching band. My shirt was riddled with holes in the air. It fluttered to the ground in pieces.

  “Shit,” said Ken.

  Everyone else was awake now. Christa, Milo, Brandon, and Ross were all sitting straight up, their eyes wide in fear.

  “What the fuck was that?” said Ross.

  “That was us finding out that they’re covering the door,” I said. “The first person out of that door is dead. First step he m
akes.”

  Emmett stroked his chin. “Well, we don’t leave then. We stay here.”

  “You kidding?” said Brandon. “We’re trapped rats in here. In here, they know where we are. They can come shoot us anytime.”

  “But it’s not about shooting us, is it?” Emmett asked me. “At least, it’s not only about shooting us. They want to hunt us down first.”

  I looked at the others. “He’s right. This a sport for them. If we don’t play, that’s going to force them to make another move.”

  “What do you think that move will be?” asked Milo.

  “I have no idea,” I said.

  “What if that move is to come in here and start shooting us?” said Christa.

  I considered. “They might do that. They probably wouldn’t shoot all of us, but they might kill one of us in an attempt to get the rest of us to run.”

  Emmett sucked in air through his nose. “So, if we run, someone dies. If we stay, someone dies.”

  Everyone was quiet.

  “If we run,” said Emmett, “then we stand a better chance in the woods. We could stay out of their sight. And if we stay, they’re probably just going to force us to go.”

  “The door’s narrow,” I said. “We’d have to go single file. And the first man to go is going to get shot.” I considered. “So, that should probably be me.”

  “What?” said Christa. “No. I don’t think you should—”

  “Trust me,” I said. I looked at the others. “You guys see this?” I pointed at the blood all over me. “This is from the last time I had a bullet in my skull.”

  Emmett narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t a time to make jokes, boy.”

  “Not a joke. I’m hard to kill.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll go out first. I’ll draw their fire.”

  “I think it’s a bad idea,” said Christa.

  I turned to Ken. He’d made a few comments that led me to believe he was a decent guy. “Can you take Christa?

  He nodded. “Yeah.” He turned to her. “You run behind me, and it’ll be okay.”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t like this plan.”

  I turned to Emmett. “They’ve been watching us, and you’ve emerged as a bit of a leader. They’ll gun for you because of that. They’ll figure that we’ll lose cohesion without you.”