Callahan's Fate (27 page)

Although he still sat against the
pillar, his stark white face contrasted with his dark hair.
 
His breath sounded too fast and shallow to
Raine
, but he tried to offer her a smile.
 
It faltered on his lips and became a grimace.

“I’ve got the bleeding almost stopped,”
she said. “How do you feel?”

“I hurt,” Callahan replied. “Plus, I’m
weak, dizzy,
kinda
sick.”

His symptoms confirmed what she’d feared—he
must be in shock. Treatment options popped into her head and she said, “Let me
help you lie down flat.
 
It’ll help.
 
Are you cold?”

Callahan shivered. “Yeah, I’m freezing.”

Raine
maneuvered him
prone and held his hand.
 
In hers, his
flesh was cool and clammy. Worried more than ever, she stripped off her coat
and put it over him.
 
He flashed a faint
grin.

In a voice weaker than used dishwater,
he said, “Thanks, baby. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine.” Her face ached where Snake
slapped her and she thought it might bruise, but she hadn’t suffered any real
damage. “Do you have other injuries besides being stabbed and hit over the
head?”

“I think one of my ribs is cracked,” he
said.
Raine
had to lean down and struggle to hear
him. “The bastard kicked me damn hard. He cut my back, but not bad.
Probably…got…a concussion, too.”

His labored breathing concerned
Raine
.
 
Callahan
clutched at her coat with one hand and held hers tight with the other.
 
If memory served, shock could be
dangerous.
 
Major organs, including the
heart and
lungs
 
could
shut down or be damaged.
 
Or he could
die.
 
No matter what, she had to get help
and soon.

After weeks of gnawing fear,
Raine
was no longer afraid of Snake Marsh.
 
Whether dead or out of commission, he wasn’t
a problem and would never be again.
 
Worry about Callahan’s deteriorating condition overrode any lingering
fears.
 
She wanted to bawl like a spanked
toddler or curl up in a ball and do nothing, but she couldn’t.
 
Whether or not they got off the abandoned
subway platform and got medical care for Callahan rested on her shoulders.

She pulled herself together and shifted
into quiet calm.
 
Raine
managed to detach her emotions from the situation and try to think about what
to do.
 
Although she didn’t want to leave
him, she might have to, and she tried to figure out just how Snake brought her
here.
 
“
Raine
?”
Callahan whispered.
“I can’t see very well.”

He’s either
about to pass out or die, and I don’t know what to do about either one.
 

Raine
tried to pray
but her lips refused to form the words, and as she resisted an urge to weep,
she heard voices and footsteps.
 
Someone
was coming, and she hoped it wasn’t Snake’s friends.
 
If it was, they were so screwed.

“Hold on, honey,” she said to Callahan.
“It’s going to be all right.
 
I love you
too much to let you go.”

His eyes rolled back,
then
shut as he fainted.
 
Raine
watched, hoping a lie wouldn’t be the last thing she ever said to the man she
loved.

Chapter Seventeen

He’d been preoccupied, and his
distraction cost Callahan.
 
After a
routine shift, he finished his paperwork and headed toward the subway, feet
jubilant enough to almost dance.
 
He
whistled a merry tune as he hurried to catch the next train, eager to get home
to
Raine
.
 
Despite his earlier misgivings, Callahan anticipated a wonderful night
out with his woman.
 
Engaged in a mental
debate whether to take her out for a nice meal at one of the restaurants near
Times Square and the Broadway district or grab something quick, he failed to
notice Snake Marsh was in the same car until it’d left the station.

Crowded with commuters, the train had
standing room only.
 
Callahan hung onto a
strap near the front of the car while Snake stood near the exit door.
 
He stared at Callahan with burning eyes, his
expression intent and his eyes bright with evil purpose.
 
Still in uniform, his service revolver on his
hip, Callahan wished he could shoot the bastard and be done with it.
 
But he couldn’t.
 
Without a reason, he couldn’t even wound him
without stirring up so much bullshit, that his career might suffer.

Callahan pulled out his phone to text
Raine
to make sure she was all right, but he couldn’t get a
signal in the tunnels.
 
He’d have to wait
until his stop.
 
At each one, people got
on, others got off the train, but Snake remained.
 

At Thirty-Fourth Street, Callahan’s
intended stop, he remained, watching Snake.
 
When he exited the car at the Forty-Second Street station, Callahan
followed.
 
He kept the man’s skanky
ponytail in sight and was so focused, he didn’t realize until too late that
Snake didn’t head for the stairs and the exit.
 
He walked behind the stairs and down where the tracks narrowed into the
deeper shadows.
What the hell am I doing?

Callahan almost turned around and knew
if he didn’t, he’d be late.
 
Raine
would wonder what took so long, but Callahan couldn’t
let Snake go.
 
If he did, like a venomous
viper, he’d bite.
 

“Hey,” Callahan shouted.
“Snake Marsh, stop right there.”

He halted, and for a few sweet moments,
Callahan thought he had him.
 
He could
make the arrest and end this.
 
They’d be
able to enjoy their night out, and the danger would be all but gone.
 
Then Snake turned and the light caught the
blade in his left hand.
 
Callahan
proceeded, wary but not afraid, until Marsh lifted his other hand.
 
Raine’s
purse, or
one identical to it, dangled from his fingers.

“Yeah, it’s hers, pig fucker,” Snake
said. “And if you want to see her alive again, you’d better come with me.
 
Or I can stab you through the heart right now
and be done with it.
 
Whaddya
say?”

What could he? A hunch said it wasn’t
hers, but Callahan couldn’t be certain and he wouldn’t take any chances, not
with
Raine
.
 
“All right,” he replied. “Let’s go.”

“Do exactly what I tell you, cop,” Marsh
told him. “Start walking.”

Snake gave him step by step directions,
and Callahan followed.
 
When he told him
to go through a service doorway, he balked.
 
“I’m not going down there.”

 
“Wrong answer, motherfucker,” Snake said. A sudden, sharp pain spiraled
through Callahan’s lower back as Marsh cut him.
“Move.”

Shoved through the doorway, Callahan
raised his fists to fight, and Snake walloped him over the head with what
appeared to be a wrench.
 
His head
whirled as his vision dimmed except for a scatter of bright light.
 
Some guy might call them stars, but not Callahan.
He knew they meant he was about to pass out and he did as Snake kicked him in
the side, hard enough to steal his breath away.

Chapter Eighteen

Next thing he knew, he hurt like
hell.
 
His head seemed ready to explode
with intense pain, and the gash where Snake cut him burned like fire.
 
Callahan blinked his eyes open and tasted
blood as it dripped from his head.
 
He
tried to wipe it away and couldn’t.
 
His
hands were tied behind his back.
 
When he
looked down at his body, he noticed his weapon, his baton, radio, and
everything else had been removed.
 
He
could tell from the absence of weight around his neck that his shield was gone,
too.
Where in the hell am I?

Callahan roused enough to look
around.
 
He saw the dim platform, the
peeling ceiling, the empty track, and realized he must be at an abandoned
level, probably still at Forty-Second Street.
 
He knew of several abandoned stations and had broken up parties at more
than one.
 
This platform, famous for
being used during the filming of that movie
Ghost
a long time ago, hadn’t been used in years.

He struggled to free his hands and
failed.
 
Snake Marsh wasn’t visible, and
he wondered where in the hell he’d gone.
 
A sickening fear that he’d gone after
Raine
began in the pit of his stomach and expanded through his body.
 
He’d made a mistake and let Snake gain the
advantage.
 
If the bastard hurt
Raine
, he’d tear him apart—if he lived.
 
For all
I know, she could already be dead.

His headache grew worse by the
minute.
 
Callahan lost track of time as
he tried to break loose, but all he accomplished was burning up energy he
needed. After what seemed like a long damn time, he gave up and slumped over,
head down, worn out.
 
He thought he
drifted in and out of consciousness but he couldn’t be sure.
 

When he came to, Snake Marsh leaned
close and shouted in his face.
 
Callahan
drew a ragged breath, and his heart almost stopped.
 
He caught a whiff of
Raine’s
perfume and when he squinted, he caught a glimpse of her at his left side,
behind.
 
His mind refused to work right,
and everything happened fast.
 
He heard
and saw through a barrier, as if he drifted underwater, but he spoke to
Raine
and she answered.
 
So far, she seemed to be in better shape than he was. Callahan hoped he
wasn’t dreaming.

With effort, he rallied enough to kick a
wicked sharp knife from Snake’s hand.
 
Later, he knew he probably wouldn’t remember much of this, but for now
Callahan remained aware he ended up with a pistol in his hands.
 
He fired twice, unable to aim well when he
was so woozy, and the part he thought he would always remember was when
Raine
shot Snake through the eyeball.

After that, everything became
muddled.
 
He had trouble breathing and
couldn’t think.
 
A new sharp pain in his
thigh hurt more than the other injuries.
 
Speaking became difficult but he made the effort for her. Callahan
thought maybe he might be dying.
 
Raine
shushed him, and he thought she tried to tend his
hurts but he wasn’t sure.
 
Nothing made
much sense and he shivered with cold.
 
He
wanted to get up, to hold her tight, and take her out of this terrible place
but couldn’t even move.
 
When his eyes
dimmed, he figured he’d see his brothers soon, but he couldn’t fight
anymore.
 
His strength had ebbed, and he
had no energy left to fight.

He heard voices and wondered whose they
might be.
 
The last thing he remembered
besides
Raine
holding his hand tight was the sound of
footsteps, which surprised him.
 
He’d
always figured angels traveled with their wings, not their feet.

****

Someone was shrieking like a banshee,
and the sound hurt his ears.
 
Callahan
tried to tune it out but failed.
 
He
wanted to open his eyes but they felt heavy, and he couldn’t seem to make them
work.
 
His ear, however, seemed to be
working well, unless the voice he heard was only in his head.

“Hang in there,
Buddy,” Anthony, his brother said. “You’re
gonna
be
fine, I swear.”

“Anthony?”

“Yeah, kid.”

“I thought you
were dead.”

His brother
laughed with the old full-bellied guffaw he remembered well. “That’s the thing,
Buddy,” he said. “I am, but you’re not, and you’re not
gonna
be.
 
You came close, though.
 
If it wasn’t for your gal and Pop, who knows
what
would’ve happened? I
gotta
go
now, kiddo, but you
be
tough, okay?”