Callahan's Fate (26 page)

Raine
thought they
might have doubled back at some point and covered the same space again.
Maybe he’s trying to confuse me so I can’t
find my way out, and he probably has.
 
Snake halted and removed the hat.
 
Raine
inhaled deep
breaths and stared.

They stood at the top of a flight of
concrete steps, dirty with disuse. “Go on,” he said. Snake shoved her and she
fumbled to catch the handrail as they descended onto an abandoned
platform.
 
Some of the fluorescent light
still worked, enough to illuminate the empty spaces, a place that hadn’t seen a
train in decades by her guess.
 
The
mosaic tiles on the wall at the foot of the stairs proclaimed it to be Forty-Second
Street, but it wasn’t anywhere she recognized.
 
It must be an abandoned
level,
Raine
thought with
rising panic,
I’ve read about these
stations no longer in use.
 
No one will
ever find me here.

On the platform, puddles loomed in
places and water dripped from the ceiling in spots.
 
Refuse littered the place along with
abandoned power chords, a few tools, and other items left behind.
 
Raine
stared into
the shadows, eyes straining to search for an escape route, or better still, for
Callahan.
 
So far, she saw neither.

Snake shoved her down, and she fell hard
against the platform.
 
Her panty hose
ripped and she skinned one knee.
 
Although it stung, she did nothing but watch him the way she would a
venomous serpent, coiled and ready to strike her.
 
He had scratched himself before, more than
once, but now he pushed up his sleeves to claw at his skin with such force, he
left marks.

Working with students at-risk had
educated
Raine
in the ways of drug abuse, and she
recognized Snake’s need for methamphetamine.
 
He needed a hit and soon.
 
When he
slumped down and rooted through his pockets, he provided the advantage she
needed.
 
Raine
held her breath for a moment and willed her heart to slow down.
 
She took long, slow breaths as she tried to
calm down.

She glanced down the platform.
 
In the dim light, six pillars down where the
now-empty tunnel loomed,
Raine
spotted
something.
 
She narrowed her gaze and
decided it was a man, slumped against the pillar, head bowed onto his
chest.
 
Raine’s
breath caught and held.
 
It was
Callahan.
 

Think. Don’t do
anything stupid. Come up with a plan or I’ll get us both killed.

A grunt from Snake made her look.
 
He’d fumbled out a filthy looking needle and
was shaking up some powder with water to pour into it.
 
His hands refused to obey, and he spilled
some of it before he managed to get any liquid into the syringe.
 
Then he plunged it into a vein in his arm and
moaned.
 
Raine
had no idea how fast the drug would hit him or how he might react, but as he
rocked back and forth, she reached into her pocket.
 
The pistol remained and she closed her
fingers around it.
 
She reached down and
removed her shoes,
then
she stood up.
 
Snake didn’t look up so she took off, running
down the platform with as much speed as she could muster.

Raine
made the first
ten feet before Snake noticed.
 
He yelled
something and stumbled to his feet.
 
With
an unsteady gait, he started after her, but he moved very slowly.
 
She started screaming for Callahan, calling
his name, but he didn’t respond.
 
Terrified,
Raine
stopped running and walked so
she could catch her breath.
 
Two pillars
before the one where Callahan sat, she noticed he had been tied to it.
 
Blood moved in a sluggish river from a gash
on top of his head, and she stuck her fist in her mouth to keep from shrieking
like a banshee.
 
Please let him
be
alive, God, please. And get
us out of here somehow.
 
It would
take a miracle.

A few paces away from him, Snake caught
up. He grabbed at her arm and she lashed out at him.
 
When he drew back one arm, she cringed, but
he slapped her hard across the face.
 
Her
skin stung from the blow and her head spun with the force of it. “Mistake, you
stupid bitch, big time.
 
You took too
long—now I got my fix and I’m
feelin
’ fine.
 
I been planning to make your pig fucker cop
boyfriend and you pay for what he did to me, sent me to jail and killed my
brother, and it’s time.”

Her hand tightened around the gun as she
reviewed everything her daddy ever taught her about firearms.
 
Raine
hadn’t shot
in years and she thought she could, but she feared making another mistake.
 
If she made a wrong move, Snake would end up
with the gun, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“What are you going to do?” she asked
him.
 

Snake laughed, and the sound echoed in
the quiet subterranean chamber. It was the most evil, awful sound she had ever
heard. “First, bitch, I’m going to wake up the cop, then I’m going to fuck you
till I make you come screaming, teach you what a real man can do.
 
And he’s
gonna
watch.
 
I’m
gonna
hurt you and I’m going to slice you up a little, just enough to drive him out
of his head.
 
It’s payback.
 
Then I’m going to kill him, real slow, and
make
you
watch.
 
Afterward, I’ll kill you, unless you impress
me enough I want to keep you for a pet.
 
If that happens, then you’re mine and I’ll use you till you’re
done.
 
Sound like fun?”

Raine
took a few
steps back out of his reach.
 
She knelt
down beside Callahan and groped for his wrist, which proved difficult with his
hands tied behind his back.
 
She managed
to wiggle two fingers in place, but she found his pulse, light and too fast.
Her tight chest eased and she breathed again. The urge to weep almost overcame
her desire to remain stoic, but she managed.

“Callahan,” she said. Her tone came out
sharp but he didn’t stir.

“Get away from him,” Snake told her.
“Get outta the way.”

“No.”

“Fuckin’ piece of shit bitch,” he
mumbled. He walked over to a backpack resting against one wall and pulled out a
bottle of water.
 
Then he opened it and
splashed the contents into Callahan’s face.
 
His nose twitched and his mouth hardened into a taut line. A deep moan
came from deep within.

“Wake up, pig,” Snake shouted. “It’s
time to party.”

From where she crouched, left and behind
Callahan,
Raine
watched his fingers curl, then flex.
“Callahan,” she whispered in a voice harsh with urgency.

She shifted position so she could watch
his face.
 
His nostrils flared and his
eyes opened to narrow slits. “
Raine
, what the fuck
happened?”

His voice sounded puny.
 
Before she parted her lips to answer, Snake
leaned down wearing a grotesque grin. “
I
happened,
motherfucker,” he said. “Payday is here.”

Cal’s mouth worked, and then he spit in
Snake’s face.
 
The man yelled and stood
up with a wordless shout and wiped the saliva away. “Big mistake,” he said.
“You’re
gonna
die, cop.”

“Bullshit.”

The single word emerged clear and
loud.
 
Callahan’s body tensed, then he
kicked his left leg up with enough force to knock the knife from Snake’s
hand.
 
It clattered to the cement, and
before he managed to retrieve it,
Raine
held it in
her hand.
 
She didn’t remember moving or
planning to grab it, but she had.

“Bitch, give it to me,” Snake said.
“Now.”

Raine
hesitated,
then
shook her head.
 

He growled at her, as threatening as any
animal, and lunged toward her.
 
Callahan
brought his other foot up in a swift kick that landed in Snake’s crotch.
 
Snake made a low, terrible noise and doubled
over.
 

Callahan groaned, then said, “Cut me
loose.”

Her fingers gripped the knife’s handle
tight as she sawed at the bright yellow braided nylon rope with effort.
 
It wasn’t easy but she managed to cut through
it, and when she did, Callahan pulled his hands free. He reached out to grasp
her hand in his. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, but you’re not.”

His grin was weak but present. “I’ve
been better, yeah.
 
Give me the knife,
baby.”

She glanced at Snake, still bent over
moaning. “I can do better than that,” she told him and produced the pistol from
inside her coat.

With effort, his fingers gripped the
butt of the .32. “That’s Pop’s,” he said. “Where the hell did you get it? He
give
it to you?”

“No, I took it just in case.”

As
Raine
watched, he broke it open and nodded. “It’s loaded.
 
Later, we
gotta
talk about this, doll.
 
You shouldn’t
have had this, but I’m damn glad you did.”

Snake straightened upright, face pale
but his eyes glittered with rage and drugs. “You’re both
gonna
die now,” he said.
 
He gasped for air as
he spoke,
then
pulled another knife from within his
jacket.

“Not today, asshole,” Callahan said.
Still sitting against the pillar, he raised the pistol and fired.
 
The first shot hit Snake’s shoulder and he
staggered on impact and slowed, but he didn’t stop.
 
He moved toward them, knife ready, and Cal
shot him again, this time through the knee.
 
Snake screamed and went down, clutching his wounded leg.
 

“You fuckin’ shot me!” Snake sounded
outraged.

“Next time, I’ll kill you,” Callahan
replied.
 
His voice diminished and lost
volume as he slumped forward.
 

Raine
put her arm
around him. “Callahan, what’s wrong?”

“I’m about to pass out,” he told her.
“Take the gun.”

Hands trembling, she took it as Snake,
despite his wounds, dragged himself toward her, knife in hand.
Raine
shook harder than leaves blown by autumn winds, but
she lifted the pistol and aimed it.
 
Long
ago, at her grandparents’ farm, she’d learned to shoot with the boys,
everything from black powder vintage rifles to shotguns and pistols.
 
Raine
locked in on
the memory and held it.
You can do this.
You know you can, just like Daddy taught you.

Snake lunged forward and threw the
knife.
 
It cartwheeled through the air
with deadly purpose, and against all odds it landed and drove deep into
Callahan’s thigh and lodged there.
 
Blood
gushed from the wound, and without thinking, without planning,
Raine
shot Snake in the right eye.
 
It exploded into a mass of goo and gore, and
he put both hands over his face, keening with a high-pitched wail.

Raine
barely heard
it. Her focus was Callahan.
 
On the good
side, he wasn’t unconscious as he stared up, face contorted with pain.
 
She’d never seen anyone as pale as blood
flowed from the wound. Should she remove the knife or staunch the blood? Did he
need a tourniquet, and could she remember how to do one if he did? Flashbacks
from mandatory staff in-service first aid training floated through her
head.
 
She reviewed the steps and
realized if she didn’t do it soon, Callahan might bleed to death.

“You’re…a helluva…shot,” he told her in
a slow, labored voice. “Love you, doll.”

“I love you, too, Callahan.
 
Hush, so I can stop the bleeding and get us
out of here. You need to be in a hospital.”

“If I don’t...”

She didn’t want to hear any dark
possibilities so she interrupted. “Shut up, Callahan.”

Working as fast as she could,
Raine
removed the knife. Blood fountained from the wound,
and she used the knife to cut his trousers away from the deep cut.
 
She used the material to press against it but
it did little to stop the blood flow.
 
Raine
used her scarf as a makeshift tourniquet, and when
the flood slowed to a trickle, she sighed with relief.
 
She glanced at him, and her concern notched
higher.