Enforcer (49 page)

Dracul grinned at him before following Ojacarcu. Connor waited until they had exited the suite before sitting back down, his legs shaking uncontrollably.

CHAPTER 41

Larry sat on the bench next to Jera, the two of them holding hands, her head resting on his shoulder. She raised her free hand in greeting as Connor walked up to them. Larry glared at him, but offered a small wave as well. Connor looked at the man’s neck, then at his hands. There was no sign of his violent passing, nor of his torture at the hands of Dracul. Connor looked around, noting the fountain nearby was spouting water in five different directions, each stream a different color. He shook his head and looked again to see the water was clear.

“See a ghost?” Larry asked.

“Just one so far,” Connor said, looking at the two lovers on the bench.

Jera patted the empty space next to her, and gave Connor a disarming smile. He looked around again before sitting down.

“Hey, buddy,” Larry said, leaning around Jera to look at Connor, “no hard feelings, okay? Shit happens.”

“Shit happens,” Connor mumbled, finally realizing he was in a dream. He waited for it to turn ugly.

“I was just telling Larry that I’m going to be free again,” Jera said, reaching out and grasping his hand.

“It’s too bad he’ll never let her go,” Larry said.

“What do you mean?” Connor asked, feeling Jera’s hand tighten in around his. He looked down to make sure it wasn’t made of rotting flesh.

“Come on, man, you know what’s going to happen,” Larry laughed. “The old man, he isn’t going to let a prime piece of fine ass like this go.” He leered at Jera, making her giggle.

“He has to,” Connor said. “He’ll get paid. He needs to keep me around, she’s just a whore to him. He can get more.”

The other two laughed at him, making him angry. He tried to get up from the bench but Jera’s hand tightened like a vice, forcing him to stay put.

“Listen, man,’” Larry said, leaning in as if he were going to share a conspiracy theory, “you took too many punches to the cranium if you think it’s going to be that easy. Just look at where you are.”

Connor looked across the small park to see a shimmer in the air a few blocks away. As he looked around, he noticed the same thing between every building, crossing every intersection.

“Look up, baby,” Jera said.

Connor looked up and felt his blood run cold. A giant spider web covered the city. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think as the fear coursed through him. He caught a movement off to his left. Travis Benkula struggled against a thick, sticky line of web. The more the man struggled, the more he became tangled in it. A blur flashed across Connor’s peripheral vision, too fast for him to focus on. Whatever it was, it was massive.

Travis stopped struggling and began to scream. Connor cringed, not knowing what the man was screaming about, but sure it was going to be terrible.

“Here he comes,” Jera said, her voice full of awe.

A nightmare with eight legs crawled around the side of the building closest to Travis. It probed at the line Travis was attached to with a hairy leg, making the man jiggle and bounce. Travis began to scream and struggle again. The spider moved so quickly that to Connor, it was at the edge of the building one moment, covering Travis the next while its legs began to furiously spin him around, encasing him in a thick cocoon of sticky silk.

Travis’s cries became muffled until they were cut off as the spider pierced his body with fangs that were as large as Connor’s legs. He tried to break free of Jera’s grip and run, but she wouldn’t let him go. He looked down and saw that their hands were locked together with more of the sticky web.

“Just wait,” she whispered to him.

The three of them watched the monster feed on Travis, the spider eventually finishing and cutting the carcass from the web to thump on the pavement twenty feet below. The eight-legged horror turned on the web, repaired it, then turned its multiple eyes in Connor’s direction. Ojacarcu exited the building below the spider, apparently oblivious to whatever was happening. Connor tried to scream at the man, to warn him, but his mouth was covered in more web. The spider moved toward them until Ojacarcu held out a hand toward it. The spider stopped, then climbed down to the street to stand next to him.

Ojacarcu and the spider walked toward the bench. Connor noticed the fountain’s water had turned to blood. Ojacarcu stopped in front of them, petting one of the spider’s legs.

“Have you met my friend, Dracul?” Ojacarcu asked, his eyes boring holes into Connor.

“He looks friendly. Does he bite?” Larry asked.

“No, he’s a good pet,” Ojacarcu said. “Trained very well in Russia at the bio-engineering lab. A Cold War weapon that was given to me as a gift from my mentor. He’s magnificent, wouldn’t you say?”

Ojacarcu held out his hand to Jera. She grasped it, getting up from the bench, pulling Connor along with her. The older man put an arm around her shoulders, still petting the spider’s leg with his other hand. Connor stood next to Jera, shivering in fear.

“You’re going to be free in a couple of days,” Ojacarcu said, giving Jera’s shoulder a friendly squeeze.

“I know,” she replied. “I’m so excited!”

“I bet you are. You owe it all to your friend here,” he said, nodding at Connor.

“Thank you, Connor,” she said, standing on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

“Ah, so you two
are
in love!” Ojacarcu said, clapping his hands. “Unfortunately, Connor has to stay. Are you going to be all right leaving him behind?”

“Not really,” she said. “But it’s what we both want.”

“
Foarte bine
,” Ojacarcu said, holding out his hand again. “It’s time to go.”

Ojacarcu turned to walk away, gently pulling Jera along with him. Connor was jerked forward, his hand still glued to hers with the spider’s web. The Romanian turned back when he felt the resistance. The older man smiled at Connor.

“Seems I forgot something,” he said.

He waved his hand toward Connor, the sticky web disappearing from his hand and his mouth. Before he could say anything, Ojacarcu resumed walking, pulling Jera along with him. The two climbed onto a thick rope of silk, the spider padding along the web next to its master. Fifty feet along the web, Ojacarcu let go of Jera’s hand and climbed on the spider’s back. She reached toward him to help her up. The older man patted the spider as if it were a dog. Two hairy legs reached out to grab Jera, placing her under its abdomen and began to spin silk around her.

Connor shouted as he ran toward the web. The instant his hand touched it, it became stuck, a burning pain shooting down his arm as if the web were coated in acid. Jera didn’t cry out, didn’t make a sound. Her face held a smile until she was fully enclosed in the cocoon. Connor struggled harder to try and free his hand, his skin feeling as if it was melting off. He could hear Larry behind him shouting encouragement to the spider, but Connor could no longer look behind. He was stuck in the webbing completely. He screamed as the spider punctured Jera’s cocoon with its deadly fangs.

*****

His screams of terror woke Jera up in a panic. She tried to wrap her arms around him, but he was too strong, too terrified to be captured. Her arms were sticky web to his brain, causing him to lash out to try and break free. His forearm caught her on the ear, spinning her completely off the bed and onto the floor. She cried out in pain when she hit the floor, her voice cutting through the remnants of Connor’s nightmare.

He sucked air in heaving gulps, the hammering in his chest matching the pounding in his head. Jera looked over the edge of the bed at him, afraid he might swing at her again. He scrambled to the edge and reached down to pull her up from the floor, as if it was a tank full of sharks. They lay next to each other for a while, holding on, both afraid to let go.

“Was it the nightmare?” she asked once her own heart had stopped beating like a drum in a heavy metal song.

“Yes,” he breathed. “No. It was, but it was different.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Was I in it?”

“Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to talk about it?”

He tried to detach himself and roll away but her arms and legs had him locked up.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, his fingers gently stroking her short hair. He sighed and said, “You were in it. So was Larry. And Ojacarcu. And Travis.”

“Who is Travis?” she asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

“Travis… he’s this guy…”

“It’s okay.” Jera kissed his chest lightly.

“Dracul murdered him right in front of me,” Connor whispered. “Strangled him the same way Petre strangled Larry.”

“Oh my God, Connor.”

“We picked the guy up one night. I thought he was supposed to help us with another job. Instead we drove to the dump and that fucker Dracul killed him less than three feet from me, made me watch. Made me help him load the body into the car, then into the incinerator.”

“Why?”

“Why? To burn the body to ashes.”

“No, I mean why did Dracul kill him? Why were you there?”

“I have no clue why he was killed. As for why I was there… I’m sure it has to do with
him
needing to keep me in line by letting me know anyone can be killed and disposed of at any time. Probably also to keep me from thinking about leaving or quitting.”

“He’s not going to let me go, is he?” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

“He will,” Connor said, not sure if he believed it.

Connor never believed his dreams were prescient. He was sure they were formed out of bits of memory and glued together with guilt, shame, fear, or any number of ingredients that amplified them to where they woke him up to the sound of his own screaming. The memory of his latest nightmare was still too fresh, blotting out everything other than watching Travis, then Jera, become another victim caught and disposed of by Ojacarcu.

“I don’t know if I can go,” she said.

Connor’s fingers tightened in her hair and he pulled her head back hard enough to make her cry out in pain.

“You
will
leave,” he said through gritted teeth. “I didn’t risk everything we both have for you to fuck this up again. There won’t be any second chances.”

“Stop it! Goddamn it, you’re hurting me!”

“Listen to me then,” he growled, his face inches from hers. “Once that door opens, you are to get the fuck out of here and never look back. If you hesitate, you’ll die here, and so will I.”

“Connor, please!”

He let go of her hair and held her tight, her body trembling in his embrace as her tears spilled across his chest.

“You have to go. Promise me you won’t be the stupid girl that I rescued once before.”

“I love you,” she said into his chest. “I don’t know what to do, where to go. I need you.”

“Bullshit, you don’t need me. You’re a strong girl when you don’t have your head up your ass or a needle in your arm. You
will
die if you stay.
I
will die if you stay, because I won’t be able to stay away from you.”

“I’m scared,” she said.

“I’m scared too. But I’m more scared of what will happen if you don’t run as far and as fast as you can. You’ll have money to start a new life.”

“I don’t want a new life without you!”

“Then we might as well put a gun in our mouths right now!” he shouted, his sadness boiling over into anger. “Should we just kill ourselves now and save them the trouble? Don’t be fucking stupid!”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her chest hitching between sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, calming down. “Just run as fast as you can. Don’t look back.”

“Will we ever see each other again?”

The pain in her voice made him want to shrivel up and die. He had spent the last few days wondering if he’d be able to let her go. After the nightmare he’d just awoken from, he knew that there was no other choice, no matter how much it ripped his heart out of his chest.

“I don’t know. The truth is, if things go right, we won’t. It sounds shitty, but it has to be that way.”

“Then we better make the best of the time we have left,” she said, wiping her wet eyes with the corner of the sheet.

Connor didn’t want to try and put his feelings into any more words. He ran his hands down her chest, across her stomach. She clutched his hand and moved it between her legs, her trembling hand betraying desperation.

*****

Connor looked in the rearview mirror one more time before he turned the key, the Lincoln’s engine going quiet. He looked at Jera, her short black hair framing her dark eyes and dark bronze face. He tried to take a thousand mental pictures and store them in different locations of his brain so he would never forget what she looked like.

“Stop,” Jera said, looking away. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”