Worth Dying For (A Slaughter Creek Novel) (25 page)

Jake snapped his fingers. “You could be right. This used to be an old mining area.”

The two of them split up again, Jake taking the northern perimeter while Rafe took the south side. He examined the space surrounding the main building, looking for a secret basement, but found nothing. A small square building behind it looked as if it had probably served as a warehouse, most likely for the guns the group was accumulating.

Metal stakes surrounded a large tree, and he noted another area that looked as if it had been used for target practice. Several rounds of spent ammunition littered the ground and the trees were pocked with bullet holes.

Roper leaned against the fence, his eyes sweeping the area. Rafe stopped to study him for a moment. The bastard kept glancing at a clump of brush and weeds choking the side of one trailer.

Rafe’s heart sped up, and he jogged toward the trailer. Using his flashlight, he examined the brush, then began to pull it away. Branches and brush had been ripped from trees and bushes and piled up as if someone had thrown them there.

Rafe heaved for a breath as he tossed them aside, removing layer after layer until he found a wooden trapdoor leading into the ground.

“Jake, come here!”

Rafe knelt to pry the door up, but it was nailed shut. Jake ran toward him.

“Get a crowbar or ax, something to break this up!” Rafe shouted.

Jake jogged back to the building where he’d found the blood, then returned with an ax. He hacked at the trapdoor until the wood splintered.

“Nick?” Jake shouted as they worked to pry the remnants of the wood loose. “Are you down there?”

Harlan’s cynical laugh made Liz tense.

She had survived the last time he’d kidnapped her. She’d find a way to survive now.

She had to, or the Dissector would keep killing more women.

The vehicle rumbled to a stop, gravel skidding and spinning beneath the tires below. She tensed at the sound of the car door opening and slamming shut, fighting for courage as she heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel—her abductor, making his way to the trunk of the car.

She fought again against her bindings, desperate to free herself—or at least remove the blindfold, so she could see the Dissector’s face.

The trunk screeched open, and Liz held her breath as the man lifted her and carried her across a path. Cold winter air assaulted her, and she heard the sound of a creek rippling over rocks.

Rafe shone his flashlight into the hole as Jake climbed down the steps. The hole looked like a bottomless pit.

Seconds later Jake dropped to the floor with a thud. “He’s here!” he shouted. “And . . . he’s alive. But I need help. He’s barely breathing.”

“I’m coming down.” Rafe lowered himself onto the steps and inched down, using his flashlight to locate Jake as he neared the ground. Jake was stooped beside his brother, checking him for injuries.

Jake patted Nick’s face. “Nick, can you hear me?”

Nick moaned, and Rafe heard Jake’s hiss of relief. “We’re going to get you out of here,” Jake murmured. “Just hang in there, brother.”

Rafe scanned the inside of the hole, noticing shelves built along one wall. Probably they’d held canned food, water, and weapons, but they were empty now. They’d obviously cleared out the place before throwing Nick down here to die.

“We should get an ambulance,” Rafe said, wincing at the sight of the blood and bruises covering Nick.

“No,” Nick groaned. “Just get me out of here.”

“You got it, Nick.” Jake reached for Nick’s arm, Rafe slipped his hand under the other one, and they lifted Nick to a standing position. Nick was weak and leaned on them, but he limped to the steps.

Together they helped Nick climb the steps, and finally he slumped onto the ground, heaving for fresh air.

“What happened?” Jake asked.

“Too many of them. They trapped me.” Sweat mingled with drying blood on Nick’s face. One eyelid was cut, bruises darkened his features, and he pressed a hand to his chest as if it hurt to breathe. He probably had broken ribs and maybe internal injuries.

“Are they working with the Commander?” Jake asked.

“I think so,” Nick said, his voice gaining strength. “Did you search the compound?”

“Yes,” Jake told him. “They cleaned everything out.”

“Fuck.” Nick tried to sit up, swaying slightly.

“Did you hear them discuss their plans or talk about the Commander?”

Nick coughed, then spit blood onto the ground. “I didn’t get a chance. They beat me and then threw me in that pit.”

Rafe jerked his head back toward the fence where he’d left Roper. He half expected the man to have gotten away, but the handcuffs had held.

“I think I know how we can find out.” He removed his gun from the holster as he strode toward Roper.

If the asshole didn’t talk, he’d beat the truth out of him.

Chapter Twenty-Six

R
afe jammed the barrel of his weapon into Roper’s temple. “Where’s the Commander?”

Roper jerked at the handcuffs, rattling the wire fence. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you,” Rafe said, teeth clenched.

Roper’s menacing glare met Rafe’s. A battle of wills.

“You’re finished with your job,” Rafe said. “You’re going to jail as an accomplice to the prison escape, which involves murder charges. How do you think the prisoners you abused over the years are going to enjoy having you in their cell block?”

Fear flickered in the man’s eyes. “Who said I abused any of them?”

“Are you saying you didn’t? Because I know how guards work. Those inmates were the perfect guinea pigs for you to impose your beliefs on, for you to exert your authority over.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, you’re the one who’s fucked.” Rafe cocked the trigger. “Where’s the Commander?”

Roper’s cheeks turned ruddy with rage. “I told you, I don’t know.”

“What
do
you know?”

Roper averted his eyes for a moment, infuriating Rafe, who jerked him by the collar. “I asked you a damn question, you bastard. Either answer me, or we’ll go to that building where your friends tortured Nick Blackwood and treat you to the same hospitality he received.”

Roper flashed a wild-eyed look at Rafe. “You wouldn’t do that.”

Rafe gave him a menacing smile. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Roper stiffened. Rafe kept the gun trained on him as he unlocked the handcuffs from the fence. Roper tried to jerk free, but Rafe slammed the butt of the gun into the man’s head. Roper staggered at the force of the blow, and Rafe handcuffed his hands behind his back.

“Walk, asshole.” He nudged Roper in the back with the gun, forcing him toward the building where they’d held Nick. Jake looked up and saw him, said something to Nick, then headed toward them.

“You’re not going to let this crazy fucker torture me, are you, Sheriff?” Roper shouted.

Jake laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m going to help him.”

Roper stumbled, but Rafe shoved him inside the concrete building. Darkness filled the room, the scent of blood heavy in the air. Rafe pushed Roper toward the tub of water, forcing the man to his knees.

Jake grabbed a dirty towel from the rags hanging by the tub, then pressed the cloth over his face. He grabbed the water hose and aimed it at Roper’s face, drenching him. Roper jerked and fought, spitting and coughing, but Jake kept it up until Roper sagged, nearly unconscious.

Rafe removed the rag and jammed the barrel of his gun against Roper’s temple. “Where is the Commander?”

“Go to hell!”

“Why are you protecting him?”

“Because he made me who I am,” Roper snarled. “I will always obey my Commander. Always.”

Rafe and Jake exchanged glances.

“You’re Six?” Jake asked cautiously.

Roper shook his head with a grin. “Ten.”

Rafe went cold. “Ten? There are only seven subjects,” he said, his hand suspended midair.

“Apparently not,” Roper said, his tone mocking.

Rafe clenched the man by the neck. “Where is he?”

Roper spit at him. “You’ll never find him.”

Rafe tossed the towel over the man’s head again, and Jake repeated the process with the water, over and over, until Roper passed out. Then they revived him and started again. Finally Roper caved.

“They’re meeting in the hills,” he rasped.

“Who’s meeting?” Rafe growled.

“I don’t know. They used code language, but it’s someone big. Someone who started the experiments.”

“Where are they meeting, exactly?” Rafe pressed.

Roper coughed, his head lolling sideways. “The main hospital.”

Liz opened her eyes, surprised to realize that her abductor had removed the blindfold and freed her hands and feet.

Pain ricocheted through her temples as she pushed herself up to stand. She swayed and caught a wall with one hand, determined to remain conscious.

She was in a room in a house somewhere, in the dark—but she had no idea where.

And no idea if anyone even knew she was missing.

Self-recriminations whispered in her head. She should have called Rafe from Smoky’s. But after the way he’d dismissed her, she’d stubbornly set out on her own.

Brenda . . .

When Liz didn’t make it to meet her, surely Brenda would figure out that something was wrong.

She rubbed her hand along the wall, fumbling for an opening, but when she reached a window, she realized it was nailed shut, boarded up.

Despair threatened to overwhelm her, but she tamped it down. She had to keep her wits about her and figure out a way to get out of here.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and suddenly it screeched open. She sucked in a breath as a dark figure limped toward her. Faint light from somewhere in the house streaked his face, revealing a jagged scar that ran the length of his right cheek, from the crown of his head to his neck. His hair was shaved, a tribal tattoo swirling across his skull.

Dammit. Shadows made it impossible for her to fully see his face.

Rafe handcuffed Roper inside his SUV and locked the door while he, Jake, and Nick hurried up to the hospital entrance.

They divided up and canvassed the staff, showing photos of the Commander to see if anyone had spotted him.

Finally they met with the chief of Security. “We have reason to believe Commander Blackwood is planning to leave the country today. Alert all guards and employees to be on the lookout for him. Warn them that he’s extremely dangerous; they shouldn’t approach him or let him know he’s been recognized.”

“Of course,” the guard said.

Nick offered to watch the security cams in the building while Jake and Rafe hurried to the elevator to go to the roof. The hospital had a helipad to facilitate medevacs and transfer patients to trauma units.

They checked the face of every nurse and doctor along the way, searching for the Commander.

Jake’s phone buzzed, and he snatched it up. “Yeah? We’ll check it out.” A pause. “Nick thinks he spotted the Commander on the fifth floor, surgical wing.”

Hope whipped through Rafe. This time if they caught Arthur Blackwood, they’d make damn sure he never saw the light of day again.

The elevator doors swished open, and he and Jake raced out. A sign for the surgical wing pointed to the left, and they jogged down the hall. Jake stopped to speak to the nurse at the nurses’ station, and Rafe met a doctor exiting the wing.

“We’re looking for Commander Arthur Blackwood.” He showed the doctor the photo on his phone. “We think he may be in disguise here, that he’s planning to get away via the helipad.”

“I’ve been in surgery, doing a liver transplant,” the doctor said. “I haven’t seen anyone but the staff in the OR.”

Rafe’s phone buzzed with a text from Nick.

The secretary of defense is with the Commander
.
They’re heading to the roof
.

He read it and then showed it to Jake.

The secretary of defense.

Carl Mallard.

Shock waves hit Rafe. “Hell, Mallard has been pressing Nick to find Blackwood all along. Now I know the reason.”

“He was keeping tabs to see what we knew,” Jake said in disgust.

Rafe tapped his foot impatiently as the elevator climbed. “Back when the experiments took place, he was making his way up the political ladder. That experiment could have catapulted him to the top with the military.”

“And could end his career now,” Jake said.

As the elevator doors slid open, they rushed to the stairwell leading to the roof.

Just as they made it onto the roof, a man in scrubs, a lab coat, and a mask helped another man onto a chopper.

Rafe and Jake ran toward it, but the men jumped in, and the chopper lifted off.

Just as they did, though, Rafe saw one of the men turn—Carl Mallard, the secretary of defense. He was definitely on board.

The force of the chopper lifting nearly knocked Rafe down. He had his gun aimed to fire, but the chopper was too fast. The blades spun, the noise drowning out Jake’s voice, as it flew across the parking lot.

Suddenly a loud boom exploded in the air, and flames lit the sky.

The chopper burst into flames, spinning and whirling as pieces of it crashed into the woods.

Liz’s hands shook as she removed her jeans and shirt and pulled on the little black dress her kidnapper had tossed into the room for her to wear. The thought of sitting with him, talking with him, letting him touch her, turned her stomach.

But if she kept her cool, maybe she could find a way to escape. Reminding herself she’d been trained in self-defense and attack moves, she zipped the back of the dress and brushed it over her hips.

The red heels he’d tossed into the room came next. They fit perfectly, as if he’d known all her sizes.

He
does. He’s been in your house
.

What body part did he plan to take?

Footsteps pounded outside the door, and the door opened. Liz swallowed back revulsion as the hulking figure appeared in the doorway.

A shudder coursed up her spine

“Come. I have something to show you.”

Liz kept her hands at her sides but slowly walked behind him. Keys jangled from his pocket as he limped forward. The lights were off, but candles flickered from a wooden table in the kitchen area, giving her just enough light to see that they were alone.

She quickly glanced around, searching for possible escape routes. They appeared to be in an older cabin. The floors were rustic, the walls knotty pine. A fireplace glowed, wood crackling.

The windows were boarded up, locks on the door.

The scent of garlic wafted to her, making her stomach curdle, and she spotted a cutting board on the butcher block counter, a sharp kitchen knife resting atop it beside meat that looked raw, bloody.

He shoved her into a chair, and once again she scanned the room for a way out. There were multiple locks on the wooden door that led outside. Locks that needed a key.

A key that was on that key chain on his belt.

“You said you had something to show me?” she asked, gauging the distance to the knife.