WEBCAM (28 page)

Joan doesn’t respond.

“Answer me. If you don’t want to use your tongue, I’ll cut that out, too.”

“I understand,” she mumbled.

Erinyes strips down to the vantablack leotard, and then puts the make-up on his eyelids. After he slips on the gloves and ski mask, he strikes a model pose for Joan.

“Does this outfit make me look fat?” he says, then giggles.

Joan doesn’t seem amused. “It doesn’t matter what you do to me. Tom is going to find you.”

“Not if I find him first.”

Erinyes takes his bag and steps out into the night, blending in like he’s part of it.

When he gets to the sheriff’s office, he peeks in the streetside window. Rather than seeing the expected country bumpkin cop smoking a corncob pipe and eating cracklins, he spots three African American youths with submachine guns loitering inside.

Interesting. Erinyes knows very little about street gangs, but he knows some of them have hundreds of members. He wouldn’t want to be that Jacqueline Daniels person they’d come here for.

The youths are preoccupied, gathered around a desk and throwing dice. They’re also smoking pot.

Erinyes is outgunned and outnumbered, but has vantablack, surprise, and sobriety on his side. Flicking off the safety on the Taurus, he quickly enters the room and shoots all three, hitting two of them in the head and one four times in the neck and chest.

They died without even reaching for their weapons.

Erinyes loads a fresh magazine as he searches the rest of the station, which is really nothing more than two offices, a hallway, a storage room, a back door, and a single, barred cell. On the floor of the cell is a dead old man with a star pinned to his chest. Eight of his fingers are gone.

My my my. Those gang guys had been very naughty.

Such a shame they died without Penance.

Erinyes sticks his head out the front door, checking to make sure the street is still empty. Then he turns off all the lights except for the single bulb lamp on the desk, and stands in the window, silhouetting himself, waiting for Tom and his friends to arrive.

CHAPTER 54

“Welcome to beautiful downtown Spoonward, Wisconsin,” McGlade said. “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.”

Tom looked out the window. He knew the town was small—a population of five hundred—

but this was nothing but a main street in the middle of a forest. And everything was dark. None of the shops or buildings had their lights on, except for one.

Luckily, it was the one they’d come for. The police station. Though, judging from the size, it was less of a station and more of a small office.

The plan, which they’d discussed earlier, was to go in, inform whatever authority was present what the situation was with Jacqueline Daniels, and then round up some cops to take along to McGlade’s hideaway in case T-Nail and his gang had already shown up.

“The locals can provide more manpower, more guns, and the necessary stamp of approval,” Tom had argued. “If things go bad, we’ll be up to our necks in bad media and local politics. We’re a long way from their jurisdiction, and Harry isn’t even a cop. We do this wrong, it isn’t just a slap on the wrist. It’s jail time.”

“I vote against jail time,” Harry agreed. “I’m too pretty for prison. The lifers would pass me around like a pack of cigarettes.”

McGlade pulled up to the station house and parked.

“Let’s be quick about this,” Herb said. “We run in, tell whoever’s there what’s happening, and go get Jack. How far away is your place, Harry?”

“About ten more miles.”

“Just let me out here,” Tom said. “I’ll talk to them.”

“We can all go in.”

“We don’t know how long it will take. You and Harry need to go find Jack.”

Plus,
Tom thought,
if they have a land line, I want to try calling Joan again.

“You sure?” Herb frowned. “What if there isn’t anyone there?”

“I see people through their window. Someone is home. You got a paper map, McGlade?”

Their GPS had died at the same time their cell service had.

“Yeah. In the good old glove box.”

Harry opened the glove compartment and found a map amid all the snack food, then wasted thirty seconds finding his hideaway and circling it in pen before handing it to Tom. It was one of those free tourist maps, listing all the shops, gas stations, and motels. There weren’t many.

Tom chose to leave his overnight bag in the car, figuring he’d be back. He offered Herb his hand and they shook. “Be careful. I’ll be right behind you guys. If the Chief doesn’t give me a ride, I’ll steal his squad car.”

“Good luck,” Herb said.

“Who needs luck when I have natural charm?” Tom asked.

“Ned Beatty had natural charm, too,” Harry said. “Things didn’t work out well for him in
Deliverance
.”

Tom opened the side door, and then smiled. “They’re cops like us. What’s the worst that can happen?”

CHAPTER 55

Joan shook her head, trying to get the spiders out of her hair. The first hour had been one of the worst experiences in her entire life, and she’d had some doozies.

But when she ran out of adrenaline, her panic eased. And the bites, though painful, weren’t nearly as bad as a bee sting.

“Kendal,” she said. “You okay?”

Kendal didn’t answer. She was obviously in shock.

Joan had been waiting for Erinyes to leave. During the past few hours, while trying to snort spiders out of her nostrils, she’d come up with a plan to escape. It was a long shot, but it beat the hell out of waiting to be tortured to death.

Strangely enough, the plan involved the spiders that had scared her so badly.

Or rather, their aquarium.

Joan leaned over, stretching for the edge with her chin, sticking her face in the tank and pulling it closer. The spiders didn’t like their habitat moved, and several dozen scurried up the side of the glass, swarming over her.

Joan managed to tip the tank onto its side. She fit her whole head in, until her nose was buried in spiders, and the back of her skull touched the opposite end. Then, in one sudden move, Joan snapped her neck up and jerked into a sitting position, sending the whole aquarium flying through the air.

But rather than land next to her, the tank arced in Kendal’s direction.

The aquarium broke, as expected. Into shards large enough to cut their duct tape bonds.

But all the glass had broken too far away for Joan to reach.

She flopped onto her side, stretching for it with her chin and cheeks, straining against the duct tape until her ankles were about to snap in half against the steel U bolt.

The nearest piece was still half a meter away. There was no way she could grab it.

But Kendal could.

“Kendal. Listen to me. There’s broken glass next to you. You can use it to cut the tape and get free.”

Kendal continued to stare blankly into space.

“Dammit, Kendal! Listen to me! We can get out of here!”

Kendal didn’t respond.

“KENDAL!” Joan cried, as loud as she ever had in her life. She cried for herself, and for all the life she had lived and the life she hadn’t lived yet. She cried for the world, and all the people who would suffer and die because Erinyes continued to be free. But most of all, she cried for Tom, whom she hurt so badly and needed to see again because her answer was yes, yes, GODDAMIT YES, she would sure as hell marry him.

Kendal didn’t even blink. She was too far gone.

CHAPTER 56

Tom gets out of the Winnebago.

He’s by himself.

Then the RV leaves.

Erinyes smiles, his hands tightening on the 9mm.

This is absolutely perfect.

He can already imagine the look on Joan’s face when he hands her Tom’s severed head.

•          •          •

Tom opened the door to the police station—

—smelled blood—

—immediately dropped to his knees and yanked out his Glock as bullets blasted into the air where he’d been standing a moment ago.

Tom let gravity take him onto his side, and he brought his weapon up as his shoulder slammed into the floor, aiming where he’d seen the muzzle flash, squeezing the trigger and firing six rounds.

One of his rounds hit the desk lamp, and the office plunged into darkness.

Tom quickly got a foot under him and tore ass out of the office, back onto Main Street. The gunfire had deafened him, but he could still feel his own pulse in his ears, thrumming like a Tommy Lee drum solo.

Crouching, he put his back against the side of the doorway, and waited for the shooter to come out.

•          •          •

The pain is exquisite.

Erinyes doesn’t know how bad the wound is, but he can feel the hot blood trickling down his arm.

He shot me. The bastard shot me.

It all happened so fast, and then Erinyes was on the floor in the dark, bleeding, not sure what to do next.

Get out of there.

He winds the strap of his bag around his neck and crawls through the blackness on three limbs, over to the hallway, running on pure memory, heading for the back door. It lets out into an alley, and Erinyes waits, trying to hear above the ringing in his head, hoping against hope that Tom has followed.

•          •          •

A minute passed.

Tom stayed put, determined to wait this SOB out.

•          •          •

Tom doesn’t show himself.

Erinyes dares to probe the wound in his upper arm. It cut a trail across his triceps, so deep he can feel the impression.

As the pain builds, so does the anger.

Erinyes digs into his duffle, finds his first aid kit, and opens a packet of Celox with his teeth. He dumps the powder on the wound, stopping the bleeding.

This is no longer about simply killing Tom.

Erinyes wants to hurt him.

He wants to punish him.

He wants to make him suffer like no one has ever suffered before.

He wants Tom to watch as he violates Joan with the butcher knife, unable to look away because his eyelids are gone.

He wants to chisel out Tom’s teeth, and break his fingers and toes and arms and legs, and burn every bit of his body with a blowtorch.

But how can he get him?

Tom is a cop. He’s had more training then Erinyes. And he’s already shown that he’s better in a gunfight.

Erinyes stares into his bag, looking for inspiration, and notices Joan’s cell. He snatches it up.

No 4G service.

But her phone has its own WiFi hotspot.

•          •          •

Another minute passed.

The shooter didn’t emerge.

Tom decided not to press his luck, and he ran, keeping low, up Main Street. If the gang had already taken out the local cops, they’ll be moving on Jack soon.

If they hadn’t already.

Tom needed to find a vehicle, to get to Harry and Herb and warn them before—

His phone vibrated, tingling in his pocket. Had cell service returned?

Tom stopped, crouching down, squinting at the screen.

No service, but his WiFi was activated, and Tom found himself staring at a text. From Joan.

snipper has me

At first, Tom’s mind couldn’t process what he was reading.

in spoonward dark van main st

She was here? The Snipper had grabbed her? And they were in Spoonward?

Tom checked the WiFi signal, and saw his phone had automatically logged onto Joan’s hotspot.

That meant, according to know-it-all Sergeant Herb Benedict, that she was within thirty meters.

can u c anything
Tom typed, fast as his fingers could move.

He held his breath, waiting for a reply.

bait shop

Bait shop? Tom didn’t remember seeing a bait shop.

Where the hell is the damn bait shop? Why didn’t I pay more attention to—

Wait. Harry’s map.

Tom tugged it out of his jacket pocket, using the light from his cell phone to see.

The Spoonward Bait Shop was a block away from the Police Station, in the other direction.

Tom didn’t think. He ran.

When he saw the van, parked on the street in the distance, he ran even harder.

•          •          •

Kendal blinked.

It was never easy to come back from the safe place. But she returned, bit by bit.

Hearing came first. Someone yelling at her.

Then sight. It was a woman yelling. A woman wrapped up in duct tape.

Then realization.

I’m in a van.

A psycho has me.

The woman was named Joan, and she was shouting something.

“The glass! Pick up the glass!”

The glass? What does that even mean?

The back door of the van swung open and Kendal turned to gape at the strange man standing there.

“Tom!” Joan cried.

Then the man fell backward as two gunshots rang out.

•          •          •

Tom hadn’t seen Erinyes hiding under the van. He hadn’t even stopped to look.

Love is blind.

Erinyes waited for him to run right up, open the back door, and see the woman he loved.

Then he shot Tom once in each leg.

•          •          •

Tom dropped like a marionette with its strings cut, his legs no longer supporting him. He managed to hold onto his gun, but there wasn’t anyone to shoot at. For a moment he locked eyes with Joan, sitting on the floor in the back of the van, her hands behind her and her legs wrapped in duct tape.

“He’s wearing black!”

Tom cast frantic looks in all directions. To his left, his right, behind him, under the van.

He didn’t see anyone, anywhere.

The pain came. Like he’d been hit in the shins with a sledgehammer. Tom grimaced, yelled.

Then a gun pressed against the back of his head.