The Hermit (8 page)

The
body of her last rapist lay just inside a makeshift jail cell made of rebar
that had been pounded into the rock of the floor and ceiling.  The man’s pants
were around his knees and Ryan was gratified to see almost a dozen stab wounds
delivered into primary organs. 

It
didn’t look like the others had been back since she’d fled.  The cold had
preserved the body but nothing could help the smell of this place.  He stepped
into her cage and saw where she’d once kept track of the days she spent here. 

Rows
and rows of small marks on the rock hit him like a fist in his gut.  A blanket
thinner than a t-shirt lay in a dirty heap on top of a threadbare bed roll,
likely the same one she’d brought from her own camp.  That she had survived the
elements alone was a miracle.  Alaska was not known for being gentle.

He
inspected the body of the dead man, finding his wallet in the back pocket of
his pants.  “Winston James.  You got less than you deserved, mother fucker. 
You got off a hell of a lot easier than your friends will, I guarantee you.” 
Ryan kicked the man in the back and left the cell. 

Just
outside the cell, against the stone wall, was a bucket.  In the bucket was the
pipe they’d used to rip the baby from Daphne’s womb.  It was still covered in
her blood.  There was no food, no water, no heat.  She’d lived in this hole for
two years, able to see the outside but it may as well have been a hundred miles
away.  He left the cave and set up a blind fifty yards above the entrance.

He
staked out the cave for days without seeing another person.  He passed the time
listening to his MP3 player turned low in one ear and reading one James
Patterson novel after another.  He wasn’t bored.  He was a very patient man. 

His
patience, as it always had before, paid off near noon a week later. 

Two
men came from above, passing within feet of him and moving toward the opening below. 
They were chatting amicably, not a care or a fear in the world.  Not realizing
their death was literally moments away.  “I’m tellin’ you, she’s gettin’ too
thin.  Hasn’t been right since we yanked our brat out her body.  Might have to
off her soon,” the one named Abel said.

The
man Ryan identified from Daphne’s sketch as Dan chuckled, “I guess Winston
decided to really get some good times in before we lose our little pet.  He hasn’t
been back to the oil field in weeks.  He’ll be lucky if he has a job after
this.”

“Dumb
shit.  A piece of ass isn’t worth losin’ your paycheck.  It ain’t like we don’t
have the weekends to come pay our girl a visit; share some of our good company
with her.  Though the wife sure has been keeping me at home lately.” 

Dan
stroked his groin through his pants, his erection already obvious.  “I been
itchin’ for her though, Abel.  None of the girls in town are so…accommodating. 
With her, we can do what we can’t with our other women.  I’m gonna miss that. 
Sure as hell am.”

Clapping
his friend on the back, Abel told him, “Dan-o, I don’t want to give up getting
sex the way I really want it.  We’ll just have to find another one to take her
place.  I’m ready for a fresh one with some fight in her anyway.”  They laughed
and Ryan wanted to puke. 

Waiting
until they were twenty yards past him, he sighted them in through the scope of
his rifle.  When they were within a few feet of one another, he whistled softly
and they turned.  He shot the first man, waited one moment to ensure his aim
was true then took out the second man. 

They weren’t
kill shots…he’d shot them both in the groin.  He stayed where he was for
several minutes, listening to them scream, not ashamed to admit that he deeply enjoyed
the sound.  He wanted to be sure they were alone.  He also wanted to make sure
they suffered a little longer. 

Shouldering
his rifle, Ryan withdrew the 9mm from the holster on his hip.  Peering up the
mountain from the direction they’d come, he knew no one would come to their
rescue and stepped out of his hiding place. 

“What
the fuck…what the fuck is
happening
?”  Abel was screaming, blood gushing
between the hands he had cupped between his legs. 

Dan
was puking on himself as his own body poured his blood onto the pine needles
that covered the ground.  “I don’t understand.  Who…who would shoot us?”  He
was barely moving and Ryan figured he’d die first.

“Hmm…let
me think you piece of shit,” Ryan said conversationally as he bent to grab the
man by the back of his collar and began dragging him to the cave entrance.  “
Daphne
Pierce
.  That’s the woman’s name that you referred to as your
pet
,
your
piece of ass
, your
girl
.  Daphne Pierce.  I found her,
patched her up, and she provided excellent sketches of the three of you.” 

Entering
the cave, he dragged Dan into the cage and dropped him beside his long-dead friend,
pleased when the man tried to scramble away screaming.  “Winston underestimated
her obviously.”  Bending, he patted the man down, removing a knife, keys, his
wallet, and phone.  “Be right back.” 

Within
a few minutes, he dragged Abel into the cave and confiscated his personal belongings
before tossing him in beside Dan.  Both of them were whimpering, begging,
asking what he wanted.  He didn’t bother answering them.  The sound of the cage
door slamming closed was fantastic.  Ryan replaced the padlock they’d used to
keep Daphne prisoner day after day for so long. 

He
crouched down to get closer to the men in the cell.  “I’m going to go call you
some help.  Unfortunately, I left my satellite phone back at my cabin.  That’s
almost a two day walk from here and I’m feeling tired from waiting you fuckers
out over the last week.”  He knew his smile was evil as he added, “Don’t worry
though, the rangers will find you eventually.  In the meantime, you might bleed
out.  Or die of exposure.  If I’m lucky, you’ll hold out for another twelve
hours, maybe a day.  Give you lots of time to think about your poor life
choices.” 

Standing,
he felt clear, knowing he was doing the right thing, for the first time in a
decade.  Back then, the location had been the Congo when he’d taken out other
men who obliterated entire villages and raped the women.  Each time he’d pulled
the trigger, he’d felt a sense of peace.  Removing a cancer from the world that
no one else could. 

“Remember
her name…Daphne Pierce.  She endured almost two years of you scumbags and lived
to identify you.  Daphne is going to be okay, she’s going to live and start
over.  You…well, that isn’t really an option.”  He gathered their belongings
and walked to the mouth of the cave. 

“For you,
Daphne, they can’t hurt anyone ever again,” he whispered quietly as he headed
back to his gear with the men’s screams behind him.  He packed up, leaving no
trace of his presence, and began the long trek back to his cabin. 

Three
days later, he emailed Noel Quincy with the location of the cave.  He had taken
a day to work on his generator and chop more firewood.  The need for
recuperation caused him to chuckle.  He received a reply back thanking him with
her phone number. 

“Ms.
Quincy, Ryan Wallace here.  Yes ma’am.  I subdued them with a non-lethal kill
shot and put them in the cage they kept Daphne in.  I guess it’s
possible
they’re still alive, ma’am.”  He cleared his throat, “I marked the entrance
with yellow paint.  You have the coordinates in my earlier email.  No, I
haven’t called her.  I thought you could do that.  No, I…I think it’s better
that way.  Thank you, ma’am.  Believe me when I say, it was my pleasure.” 

They
hung up shortly after and Ryan cleaned his weapons, showered, and made himself
a huge steak with reheated roasted potatoes he’d made before he left and put in
the freezer. 

He was
locking up the house and getting ready to turn in when the satellite phone went
off.  Lifting it to his ear, he said, “This is Wallace.”  The other end of the
line was quiet and Ryan sank into his chair.  He waited patiently, nervously. 

After
what seemed like forever, Daphne said, “Ryan…it’s me.  I just talked to Noel.” 

He
said nothing, unsure what he should say.  Most people didn’t find it charming
when you killed people, no matter the reason.  Daphne’s opinion mattered to
him.  He didn’t want to frighten her with the other side of who he was.

There
was a tremor to her voice, “I want to ask you something, you don’t have to tell
me if you don’t want to.  I want to know if…they suffered.”

Ryan briefly
toyed with the idea of lying to her, glossing it over, and making himself seem
less a monster.  Instead, he cleared his throat and admitted, “They didn’t die fast
or easy, Daphne.  I shot them in the groin and locked them in your old cell. 
It would have taken…a long time for them to bleed out.  They would have been in
agony.” 

He
waited for the fear, the withdrawal.  Nothing could have stunned him more than
her telling him, “Thank you…thank you
so
much for making them suffer,
Ryan.  I’ll sleep better knowing that.”

He
swallowed past the lump in his throat.  “How are
you
doing, Daphne?” his
voice was carefully bland to keep from communicating the turmoil he was in.

There
was a deep sigh from the woman currently too far away for his comfort.  He
wanted to know she was safe, see she was safe and had everything she needed.  “I’m
very tired, Ryan.  I had surgery the day they flew me out.  They’ll keep me
here until…whenever.”  A small gasping sob had Ryan clenching his fist.  “I’m
angrier than I would have thought.  I never thought much about having children. 
It doesn’t seem like a big deal until you’re told you
can’t
have them. 
Suddenly a lot of options are taken away that you never considered.”  Her voice
broke and he gave her the time to regain control. 

“They also
gave me syphilis.  At least it wasn’t herpes or AIDS, that’s the way I look at
it.  Always been a ‘silver lining’ gal, you know?  I have this crazy high-dose
antibiotic and like forty other pills, every new doctor prescribes me a new vitamin,
a new anti-depressant, a new pain killer, a new miracle drug that will make me
smile when I feel like…well, anyway.”

“Daphne,
I’m sorry.  I know a hundred people have said that to you and it doesn’t help. 
Not one fucking bit.  Are you close to Janice?”

“Yes, I’m
at the hospital in my hometown now so there are lots of…visitors, lots of
people I knew when I was a different person.  I feel…
wrong
here.  I’m
pretending like I belong but I don’t anymore.  I don’t see
anything
the
way other people do, Ryan.  Not now, not after everything.  I’m angry.  I
feel…violent.  I want to hit things.  Hurt people.”

Ryan
sat back in the chair, “Daphne, you’ve been through severe trauma.  There would
be something wrong with you if you
weren’t
angry.  Hell, I’m fucking
furious and it didn’t happen to me.  You need to cut yourself some slack.  Stop
defining your own behavior as normal or abnormal.  Your situation is unique. 
You went through hell and anger is not only an appropriate response, it should
be expected.” 

They
talked for over an hour, until Daphne was falling asleep on the other end of
the line.  He didn’t want to say goodbye.  Hearing her voice after the time
they’d been apart, after the things he’d done, was soothing.  She needed her
rest; there was no telling what medication they had her on.  “Get some sleep,
Daphne.  If things get to be too much, call me.  Anytime.  I’m here.”

“Thank
you, Ryan.  For letting me rant and rave.  Sleep well.  I miss you.  Goodnight.” 

Ryan
disconnected the phone, not moving as he thought about their conversation and
what Daphne was going through.  After a long time, he locked up and went to bed. 
He moved the phone to his nightstand, not wanting to miss her call if she woke
up alone and afraid in the middle of the night. 

For a
long time, he stared at the place beside him, remembering Daphne sleeping there,
pretending she was there now.  When he reached out with one hand and smoothed
the pillow, he mumbled to himself, “You’re an idiot, Wallace.”