Adrift: The Complete Novel (15 page)

+++

“Do you want me to call the police?” asked Johnny.

Laney stared down at Renley Watts’s body, his dead eye’s bulging, the jagged tree branch the size of a man’s wrist buried deep in the man’s throat. It hadn’t been a pleasant death. Laney wondered if Watts died from asphyxiation or internal bleeding first.

Whoever had dropped the body on the front porch hadn’t stuck around to say hello. The warning bells in Laney’s head raged.

“Don’t call the police. They might think we did it. Get on your phone and get as many of your friends here as you can. We’ll need the help.”

Johnny kept looking out of windows already having gone around the house to make sure no one had busted in. No breach so far. “What about the body? We can’t just leave it here.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Call your friends. Tell them to come armed.”

As Johnny went to make his phone calls, Laney’s scoured his mind for a solution. He had to find out who was toying with him. His thoughts drifted back to the night in the Gulf when he’d concluded his business with Daniel Briggs.
Could it be?
Laney shook the ridiculous feeling away. Even if the Marine had somehow survived the capsizing boat, there was no way he could’ve made the swim to shore, over two miles, and then found his way back to Defuniak Springs. Surely it wasn’t possible. Still, the feeling nagged at Laney.

+++

A dark form moved along the tree line, more beast than human. Its movements were fluid like a panther stalking prey. It slithered around the perimeter of the Laney compound stopping here and there. The only thing visible in the tangle of grime and debris covering the figure’s form were two eyes, almost snake-like.

Chapter 33

Lightning crashed into the woods less than a mile away, thunder following a moment later. The sound shook the house. Without warning the power went out.

Laney looked up, waiting for the power to return. It didn’t.

Johnny had managed to contact some of his buddies, nineteen of whom agreed to make their way over. The rest had either never replied to his text or come up with some excuse. Laney made a mental note to recruit more help for the future.

“Call the power company and see if they can get a crew out here,” he order Johnny.

He listened to the conversation already knowing the outcome. They were too busy. There had been a thought in the past of installing a gas generator, but he’d put it off. What he wouldn’t give for it now.

Another thunder clap rattled the windows making both Laneys flinch.

“That was close,” Johnny said, on hold with the power company.

A crash somewhere upstairs. It sounded like maybe one of the huge trees near the house had finally fallen.

“Go see what that was.”

Johnny nodded nervously, handing his phone to his grandfather, his other hand palming a pistol. “I’ll be right back.”

Laney ended the call with the power company, knowing they were on their own until the storm settled down. He sat with his back to the wall, a Mossberg tactical shotgun pointing forward, half expecting the strange shadow from earlier to come creeping around the corner.

Two minutes passed, then five. No Johnny. “Johnny! Everything okay?”

No response. Laney stood, weapon at the ready. The first thing he noticed was the smell, swampy, almost like mildew. Peeking around the corner he had to squint in the dark to see mud spots leading from the stairs. He couldn’t tell where they started, but he could see where they led; toward the basement door.

Trying to steady his breathing, Laney crept along the wall, moving slowly, scanning. Despite straining his hearing to detect the intruder, the storm drowned out everything.

“Johnny!” he called again. Still no answer, only the repeated crash of thunder.

Still shuffling, Laney reached the door leading downstairs, weapon pointed at the open portal. He went for the light switch before remembering that the power was still out. Pulling out his phone, he turned on the flashlight app and held it against the shotgun so both the light and the barrel were pointing down the stairs.

He followed the tracks further, no marks on the wall, but it looked like something had been dragged. The door at the bottom of the stairs was open. The light from his phone tried in vain to cut into the darkness below.

Counting to three, Laney burst into the room, swiveling all around, trying to find a target in the pitch black. Nothing except Hollie’s figure in the chair.

Still scanning left and right, he approached where Hollie had been for almost a full day. “Hollie,” he whispered.

No response.

He could see that the man wasn’t moving. Maybe he’d passed out by the looks of how he was leaning back. The beam from his phone leading the way, Laney tried to focus on Hollie. Something wasn’t right. It…

Bathed in blueish light sat his grandson, obviously dead, a jagged tree branch sprouting from his eye socket.

Chapter 34

I was no longer human. Growling and grunting instead of speaking. All feeling had left my body. I thought and moved on instinct, a cunning mind no longer my own. Like a mighty beast, my focus narrow, body in perfect harmony. I gave in.

The small part of my humanity had been pushed to the farthest reaches of my consciousness. Morality no longer mattered.

No words left my lips. No emotion registered in my eyes.

Hollie followed wordlessly, sensing my change. He’d tried to engage me in conversation when I stepped into the basement. I couldn’t. Instead, I’d dragged Johnny’s lifeless body, untied Hollie from his bonds and replaced him with with the man I’d just murdered. Hollie watched in silence.

Whatever part of me that still existed told me to get Hollie to safety. I listened to the tiny voice much like a dog might listen to its master. Obey without a thought. Move when you’re told. Now.

After slipping out the first story window like a cat, I helped Hollie ease down to the ground. Still without speaking, I handed him the keys to the car in the drive, the one owned by the man who I’d killed on the road. Somehow I’d known him to be connected to my enemy. How does a guard dog know who to attack or who to care for? It just does. It smells evil. It senses the enemy.

It was like having a finger on the pulse of the universe. I knew without looking where my enemy was. He was within reach, and yet, I did not attack, sensing that it was not yet the time.

I kept my eye on the house as Hollie drove away, me standing in the rain. A face appeared in a first story window. He saw me. I stared. He screamed. I stood.

Bored with the exchange, I turned and melted into the storm.

+++

Max Laney screamed over and over at the figure in the distance, finally understanding what had come to pass and who had done it. His legacy lay dead in the basement. Utter despair…then a switch clicked. Even if was the last thing he did on earth, he would kill Daniel Briggs.

Chapter 35

Max Laney left his grandson’s body where it was, not wanting to scare the reinforcements. They came in waves. Half had been on the ill-fated excursion to Hollie’s farm nights before. The other half were more curious, and hungry for money. He’d promised them each a small fortune.

“Now that we’ve got everyone here, let me tell you what we’re gonna do.”

+++

Jaw set, eyes on the road, Hollister Herndon’s mind churned. In the past hour his world had turned upside down. Daniel was alive. Johnny was dead. While the image of the mud and tangle camouflaged Marine surprised him for a moment, it was what Daniel had become that was most disturbing.

He’d seen it before. Men pushed to the brink, whose lives no longer mattered. These men were often seen as heroes, but Hollie knew better. Yes, what they did could be heroic, but the detachment turned them into something else, something primal. Hollie knew that’s what Daniel was.

But it didn’t bother him. He knew the young man’s heart. In the short time they’d known each other the Marine had shown Hollie a true warrior. Against all odds, Daniel returned from the dead seeking vengeance. Hollie would help him now, and God willing, after.

+++

The baying of hounds preceded the first group to leave Laney’s estate. He’d called in a favor to have a local dog trainer, who supplied to law enforcement across the country, to bring his full contingent. Max Laney had agreed to not only pay the man’s hefty fee, but to also compensate the man for any animals that might be lost.

Twenty dogs leapt from their crates, eager to please their master.

“Come here, dogs,” The trainer held an old T-shirt that the dogs sniffed, soaking the scent. “Good, good.”

Without prompting, the dogs started the search, a scrawny healer finding the trail first, letting out a long howl.

“They’ve got it,” announced Everette Turner, the dog trainer.

Max Laney smiled. “Let them run.”

+++

Hollie banged on the rickety door. “Eli! You home?” He was getting soaked from the awning that let in more rain than it kept out. His old friend had let the place go to hell.

“Who’s there?” came the call from inside.

“It’s Hollie. Open the door dammit.”

“Hold your horses.”

Hollie waited as the plethora of deadbolts unlocked, the door finally opening.

Eli Henderson, bow-legged, hunched and withered, looked like a shell of the man he’d once been. Ten years Hollie’s senior, the two men hadn’t become acquainted until the 1990’s when they’d met a common enemy: Max Laney. Eli and Hollie were two of the last hold-outs to Laney’s complete takeover of decent land in Defuniak Springs. Each had the benefit of controlling key pieces in the overall landscape, lots that the greedy Laney wanted badly.

“What are you doing out in the rain?”

Hollie stomped inside, shaking the water from his hair. “Waiting for you to let me in.”

Eli looked his friend up and down. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Give me a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you.”

Eli listened intently as Hollie recounted the incredible tale. When he was finished, Eli asked, “So where’s the kid now?”

“Out there doing what he does best.”

“Marine sniper you said?”

Hollie nodded. “A damn good one too. They don’t nominate just anyone for the Congressional Medal of Honor.”

Eli scratched his stubbly chin. “What do you want me to do?”

“Do you still have that stash in your attic?”

A crooked smile. “Damn right I do. Been meaning to use it too. Come on. Let’s go take a look.”

+++

The dogs were well trained, rarely having to double back despite the storm. Ten of Laney’s men followed, trying to keep up, grumbling as they struggled through the brush. The occasional bark from the scouts led them on through the soaked vegetation, further into the gloom.

+++

“You want to tell me how you got your hands on all this?” Hollie looked around like kid in a candy store.

“I don’t know. Just collected it over the years.”

“You better hope the police never see this.”

“I’ll be dead and gone before that happens. Besides, it sounds like we’ll get to use it before the day’s out.”

Hollie had known Eli Henderson was a connoisseur of sorts for military weaponry, but the amount of firepower in the old man’s attic reminded him of the armories he’d visited during his time in the Army. “And you sure you’re okay with me taking some of it?”

“Shoot, I’m going with you.”

“Now, Eli, are you sure you’re in good enough condition…”

Eli scowled. “I may look like an old fart, but I can still fire a weapon, better than you I’ll bet.”

Hollie couldn’t argue with him. He needed all the help he could get. A thought came to him suddenly. “Who else do you think might lend us a hand?”

The old man grinned. “I know just the people.”

+++

“Was he there?” Max Laney asked the rain-soaked man.

“No, sir. The house and the barn were empty.”

“And his truck?”

“Still there.”

“Did you do what I told you?”

“Yes, Mr. Laney.”

“Good. Now, here’s what I want you to do next.”

+++

Since it was centrally located, Hollie and Eli decided to use Henderson’s home as a staging area. Their recruiting efforts had already drummed up a handful of recruits, all men, all senior citizens. They pulled up in a mix of battered cars, rusted jeeps and polished Hummers. Hollie knew some of them, but they were Eli’s men.