Survival Games (26 page)

The scream
shattered the silence of the house and Daniel shot to his feet, disoriented in
the darkness of their bedroom. Then he pinpointed the sound at the far end of
the hall. Gasping and sobbing, the usual nightmare noises. He shuffled to
Eric’s room rubbing his eyes and muttering under his breath.

He flipped on the
light and any remnant of sleep vanished. Eric lay arched on his bed, his breath
coming in forced gurgles with blood everywhere. It covered the boy’s bare
chest, dripping down his sides and staining the sheets. A gash the width of a
standard butcher knife marred his skin just below and to the right of his
heart.

“Mommy, it hurts.”

His pain-filled
words broke Daniel’s paralysis, but before he could complete the few steps to
his bedside, white light encompassed Eric, blanketing his skin, and tendrils
drifted like smoke, seeping into his nose, ears and mouth, filling his small
form until his skin glowed with it.

Daniel blinked and
it was only Eric. Eric, covered with blood but no sign of the ugly gash he had
seen when he first entered the room. Eric staring up at him with wide strange
calico eyes, the colors swirling like clouds caught in a vortex. Daniel blinked
again and scanned the filthy bed, still unable to understand. This had all the
characteristics of a dream but the unmistakable metallic stench of blood did
not fit neatly into that theory. “Wha – What just happened?”

A gasp in the
doorway caught both their attention and Daniel turned in time to see LeAnn
scurry past and what she said made perfect sense, although there wasn’t a trace
of blood on Eric’s face.

“Oh God, a bloody
nose! Eric you need to lean forward and pinch the bridge of your nose to stop
the bleeding!” She tried to manhandle Eric, to sit him up and push him forward.

“I’m okay,” Eric
said, pushing her away.

“Let me see!”

Daniel cleared his
throat and LeAnn turned. “I think the bleeding already stopped.”

She looked at Eric
and tilted his head a little to make sure no geyser waited in his nostrils and
then she nodded. “He seems to be okay now.” She scanned the bed. “But I can’t
say the same for his bed. You want to get him cleaned up and I’ll change the
sheets?”

Daniel nodded and
helped Eric to his feet, leading him in the bathroom and turning on the shower.
He still couldn’t find words to voice the questions flurrying through his head.
He waited until Eric turned the water off and opened the shower curtain, wet
and clear of any trace of blood.

“Is LeAnn going to
find a knife in your bedroom?” The question flowed out in nothing more than a
whisper.

Eric raised his
eyebrow and shook his head slowly.

“Then would you
care to explain what the hell just happened?”

“I saved Mom and
then she saved me.” He took the towel that Daniel handed him and wrapped it
around his shoulders. “She should be home in a few days.”

It was Daniel’s
turn to raise his eyebrows. “Eric, your mother died in January. It’s almost
September. She isn’t coming home.”

“You’ll see.” Eric
ran the towel over his body and dropped it on the floor, before heading back to
his room to find clean underwear.

Daniel followed,
tongue-tied and he traded a glance with LeAnn as she tucked in the new sheet,
holding it up so Eric could climb underneath. She tucked him in and gave Daniel
a peck on the cheek as she headed back to their bedroom, leaving him alone with
his son.

“You’ll see,” Eric
said again and his eyes closed, leaving Daniel alone with no real answers.

Tom woke
screaming, the electricity buzzed in his ear again, his body arching with the
current one-second, and the next, the flow cut and Ty stood holding the cord,
the frayed edges skating across the floor spraying small sparks in a small arc.

Tom stared at him
and swiveled his gaze to the chains. The last thing he remembered was Frank
raising the knife above Jessica and then a flash of white light. He assumed
that was the end of everything but here he was, relatively unharmed and Ty was
free.

His heart hammered
and he turned his gaze to Jessica expecting the worst. His jaw dropped. Jessica
stared back at him without a scratch, the ugly cut on her face gone. Her
breasts intact and not a slice on her perfect skin. Ty wasn’t kidding when he
said she could perform miracles.

When the wire
stopped sparking, Ty crossed, pulling the other end out of the monitor, cutting
the charge completely. Then he cranked the chains down and crossed the room,
ripping the clothes off Frank’s unconscious form. He dragged him across the
floor and clasped the shackles tightly around his wrists and ankles.

* *
* *

Ty ignored both
Tom and Jessica, concentrating on the task-at-hand. He manually cranked the
chains until Frank was hanging listlessly in the air.

“Get me out of
this, Ty,” Jessica gasped, the tremor of the last release rippling through her
body.

“Not yet.” The
images of everything Frank did to her flashed like a slide show and he crossed
to the table, studying the array of items meant for producing pain. He homed in
on one item, picking it up and turning it over in his hand. He looked at his
reflection. He had never been the one to execute torture. Sure, he had watched
it a thousand times through a camera lens or a monitor, but he had never
entertained the notion of doing the things Frank did.

Until now.

He grabbed the
smelling salts and trudged back to his stepbrother, cracking them open and
waving the foul salts under his nose. Frank’s eyes blinked open and his head
moved away from the stench but Ty followed his jerking path, making sure he was
wide-awake before he tossed the salts on the floor.

“You seem to have
forgotten what I told you I’d do if you ever touched her,” Ty said, his voice a
low growl and he gripped the tool in his hand, not revealing it to Frank. He
wanted the bastard to remember first.

Frank stared at
him, blinking again before his gaze shot around the room, landing on Jessica. His
eyes widened and snapped to the machine. The rattle of the links shortening
again filled the silence. Panic spread over his features and he swallowed,
glancing back at Ty.

Ty waited
patiently, but Frank was too paralyzed by fear to speak. He tilted his head and
brought the utensil within his line of sight.

Frank started blubbering
and jerking in the chains.

“I told you that
if you touched her, I’d castrate you,” Ty said. He placed the item between
Frank’s legs and squeezed.

Frank screamed as
his penis and his scrotum fell to the floor.

Ty reached up,
plucking Frank’s eye out of the socket. “I’ll need this for later,” he said and
walked back to the table. The chains shortened again, making Frank scream
louder. Ty picked up a cigar cutter and walked back to Frank twirling the
cutter between his fingers. He grabbed Frank’s index finger, sliding it through
the cutter beyond the second knuckle and squeezed, catching the digit as it
fell. “I’ll need this too.” He held it in front of Frank’s good eye.

Frank’s screaming
continued and Ty ignored him, crossing back to the table, setting the severed
finger next to the eye. He wiped his hands on the towel.

“Please, Ty,
please let me out of here!” Jessica gasped.

Ty closed his eyes
and took a deep breath, the chains retracting again followed by Frank’s high-pitched
scream. He turned and crossed to Jessica, kneeling next to her and ran the back
of his fingers across her cheek. “Not yet.”

“Don’t make me do
this,” she pleaded. “Don’t make me kill.”

“You aren’t,
you’re just my vehicle for justice,” Ty replied and she climaxed again.

Frank screamed and
he heard something break.

“Ty.” She met his
gaze, her eyes crazed with the build-up of the next orgasm.

“I’m sorry,” he
said. “I’m sorry about everything back in the room. I didn’t expect to live and
I thought…” Ty hung his head. “I thought it would be easier if you hated me.”

The next wave
overtook her, she tilted her head back, gripping the arms of the chair, and she
closed her eyes, tears squeezing out of the corners sliding in slow motion down
her flushed cheeks.

Frank scream
turned to a gurgling choke and the wet ripping of flesh pulled Ty’s gaze away
from Jessica’s face. His single eye rolled into his head as blood gushed from
both his torn shoulder and torn hip. The choking ceased with the slowing flow
of blood. The flesh ripped, and his leg fell to the floor, his arm dangled and
the left half of his body sagged, the sudden release of tension, swinging it in
a slow arc.

Ty reached over
and flipped the machine off. He unlatched the shackles and pulled her trembling
body from the chair, wrapping his arms around her in a tight bear hug. “I’m so
sorry,” he whispered in her ear.

Tom yelled out and
Ty dropped Jessica to the floor, both spinning toward him. The buzz of
electricity filled the room and Tom’s body went rigid, his teeth and eyes
clamped shut.

“Turn it off!”
Jessica broke his grip and bolted across the room.

The door burst
open and Marian stepped in, leveling a gun at Ty. She emptied four rounds into
his chest and by some miracle, none of them hit his heart.

* *
* *

Jessica reached
the chair, grabbing the main power source with her left hand and reaching for
Tom, the second her hand touched his shoulder, the restraints blew off him and
she pushed him out of the chair. With her hand on the conductors, the flow of
energy burned through her palm, and she absorbed it, like a battery renewing
itself.

Marian swung the
gun in her direction.

“Don’t!” Ty yelled
and fell to his knees.

Another round
discharged, the force of the bullet, knocking Jessica back into the wall. The
bullet tore clean through and the path behind it immediately healed leaving
only a trace of a scar.

The sudden
onslaught of pain sharpened her focus, her gaze fell to Ty, his blue eyes
locked on her, relief flooding into his eyes, and he broke the stare, moving
his gaze back to Marian and the gun swinging back in his direction.

She was going to
plant a bullet in his brain and Jessica shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she
whispered and lifted her burnt hand to her head as if it were a gun.

Marian’s eyes
widened in horror as her hand mimicked the motion of Jessica, the gun pressed
to her temple and she squeezed the trigger.

Ty’s gape
transitioned from Marian’s falling body to Jessica, the sound of the gun still
ringing in his ears.

Jessica spread her
arms wide, hands in fists, and tilted her head back, uttering a guttural cry
that echoed on the concrete. The cry of a warrior. Her hands shot open, and he
felt the power ripple through the room leaving a slight ozone odor. The door
blew off its hinges, and not just their door. Every door in the complex lay in
a heap of twisted metal across the hall from where it originated.

Ty fell forward
whispering, “Angel.” And the world went black.

The echo of metal
on concrete was dimmed by the sound of the door slamming in the halls of her
mind. It rattled on its fame and fell silent. Jessica lowered her arms and her
gaze fell from the ceiling to Ty. Her breath hitched and she stumbled toward
his still form.

“Ty,” she cried
and turned him over. “Oh God, Ty!” She scanned him, her eyes lingering on the
bloody bullet holes and then she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his
forehead, wishing the wounds away. Nothing happened, no overwhelming magical
sparks, no white light, nothing and a sob escaped her. She held his slack face
between her hands, her eyes filling up with tears blurring her vision. “Oh God,
I can’t fix you!”

She turned to Tom.
“I can’t fix him.”

Tom tilted his
head and scrunched his eyebrows together and then looked around the room still
dazed.

Ty’s eyes
fluttered open. “Jess,” he whispered, coughing up blood.

“I’m sorry, I
can’t, I don’t, I can’t fix you,” she stammered through the tears. “I don’t
have it anymore.”

Ty raised his
hand, gently cupping her cheek and wiping the tears with his thumb. “It’s okay,
Jess.” Before she could say anything, he swiveled his gaze to Tom. “Get her out
of here,” he commanded in a voice too strong for his condition. A coughing fit
followed, racking his body and spraying drops of blood everywhere.

Tom stared at him,
his eyebrows slowly rising and the silent question of “How” covered his face.

Ty’s vision
blurred and he blinked, bringing his focus back to Jessica. “Get out of here,”
he started and coughed again. “The eye. There is a bag under the control board,
has money and keys to my car. There are clothes in the closet. Your sizes.” He
closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to keep awake. “Go,” he whispered,
looking at her for the last time. “Please just go.”

Jessica nodded,
kissing his palm before he let it drop to the ground and his eyes closed. She
leaned forward pressing her lips to his. She didn’t know if he would hear her
or not, but she needed him to know, she needed to say the words before it was
too late. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

She turned toward
the table, getting to her feet and crossing to the array of weapons. The eye
and the severed finger were resting on a towel and she gathered the edges,
folding them together over the ghastly items that were the key to their
freedom. She reached down and took Tom’s hand, helping him up and out of the
room.

She paused at the
door looking back at the carnage. Ty’s chest still rose and fell as the puddle
of blood surrounding him slowly expanded.

Then she turned
and led Tom down the hall, his hand still clasped in hers as they skirted
around the twisted doors and quickly looked in each open entry looking for the
control room. At the end of the hall, right after the fully equipped kitchen
stood a room with several monitors and an entire bank of controls. All the
cameras were live, including the one in the room they just emerged from. Setting
the towel on the counter, she reached out and flipped each master switch and
one by one, the feeds went black. She hesitated at the last monitor staring at
the wide shot, staring at Ty.

Tom reached past
her and shut the camera off.

She met his gaze
and nodded, shifting hers to the considerable closet and the neat rows of
clothing marked by post it notes with size and prisoner name. She grabbed a
pair of jeans under the sticky that indicated her wardrobe and slid them on. The
sticky with Ty’s name caught her attention and a black dress shirt hung among
the collection, clean and pressed. Instead of grabbing a shirt under her label,
she grabbed the dress shirt and put it on, buttoning it nimbly and rolling up
the sleeves before turning to Tom.

Tom had slipped
into a pair of jeans and was just finished buttoning up his shirt. His gaze
slid over her and jumped to the section that she took the shirt from. He
inhaled and met her stare. He turned away and grabbed a couple pairs of pants,
underwear and shirts from both their sections, placing them on the chair.

“He said something
about a duffel bag. I figure we’re gonna want more clothes than what’s on our
back,” he said to her raised eyebrow.

She nodded and
grabbed one more item. A bra and then opened the cabinet under the control
board. As promised, there was a duffle bag and she pressed the back of her hand
to her mouth, stifling a sob when she looked at what was inside.

Tom peeked over
her shoulder. It was full of cash and a pair of car keys sat on top of the
crisp hundred dollar bills. “Jesus.”

Jessica recovered
from the initial shock and grabbed the keys sweeping the clothing into the bag
and handing it to Tom. Gingerly, she picked up the towel and led the way out of
the control room. At the elevator, she fished the eyeball out of the towel,
letting the rest fall to the floor. She punched the button and held the eye to
the scan bed, holding her breath, praying it would work.

The door opened
with the same whoosh she remembered and she dropped the eyeball, stepping
inside quickly like the elevator would change its mind. A sob escaped at the
sight of the key in the slot, she turned it pressing the only other button, and
the doors slid closed, the elevator ascending.

Jessica’s heart
beat so hard she shook, the last time she had tried to use this elevator so
very vivid in her mind and the idea of what lay beyond, the unknowns, what else
would they have to fight through to get free, froze her breath in her lungs. There
was no ding, the doors just silently whisked open. In a closet no less.

Presented with a
choice of two doors, they looked at each door and then at each other. Jessica
made the decision, reaching for the closer of the two doors and they stepped
into a private garage. She looked at the keys she held and the limited choice
of cars. A silver Nissan 350Z Roadster, a Black BMW and a beat up Ford Taurus. She
pointed the remote at the cars and pressed the unlock button. The Nissan’s
lights flashed and the locks released.

She exchanged
glances with Tom and then they bolted to the car, she taking the driver’s seat
and he the passenger seat after tossing the duffel bag in the space behind
them. On the visor was a door opener and she pushed the large red button,
bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter as the garage door whirled to life,
slowly rolling up. Darkness greeted them and Jessica sped out into the open
night, pressing the button once again before they drove out of range.