Linda Kay Silva - Delta Stevens 3 - Weathering the Storm (2 page)

The rest of the ride was uneventful, as Jake winded and twisted his way through the darkness to the very outskirts of the city. Delta’s mind raced with options. Even if she did get her hands on the Uzi, killing them both before they could get to her would take a miracle.

Maybe, Delta thought despondently as the car snaked its way through the night, maybe she had finally run out of miracles.

“This is far enough,” Dice said. “We can take her fifty yards or so out, have some fun, and then have her suck on my gun before going nighty-night. How does that sound, Amazon Queen?”

“He really does have short men’s complex, doesn’t he, Jake?”

Jake looked into the mirror and smiled.

“Shut up!” Dice yelled.

Jake pulled the car off the road and turned to them both. “Look, Dice, take her out and do what you gotta do, but your mouth is beginning to get on my nerves. Call me when you’re done.”

Dice returned a smile. “Don’t you want to play, Jake?”

Jake shrugged. “No way, man. I seen what women look like when you get through with ’em. No thanks.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Put that thing out, you idiot. You want someone to see?”

Jake pulled a long drag. “I know my job, Dice. We haven’t seen a car in over fifteen minutes. Relax. There’s no one out here but us chickens.” Jake laughed as though he had just thought that one up.

Dice nodded and jammed the gun into Delta’s back. “When you hear my gun, come running and we’ll finish the job.”

Jake nodded and leaned against the car.

Delta took one step and felt her knees go weak. She would have to find a way to use her legs to get to Dice, or it was over for her. Right here, right now, her life would end, and no one would ever know what became of her. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

Ten yards.

Twenty yards.

Forty yards more and Dice pushed her in the back and told her to turn around.

Delta turned, very slowly. She could barely see Dice standing in front of her. The darkness was so thick, it was nearly palatable. Only light from the half-moon illuminated the ridge standing in the distance and the vast flatlands on the opposite side. Delta finally recognized where they had brought her to die; they were in the perfect place to bury a dead body—the Anza Borrega Desert.

Delta weighed her only option. She knew she’d have a chance if she allowed him to get on top of her. Even then, her chances of overpowering him with her hands handcuffed were wafer-thin.

“You let that fuckin’ mutt tear my fingers off,” <|>Dice said, unbuckling his belt with one hand. “You just stood by and watched him have me for lunch.”

“It couldn’t be helped. You went for the gun, Dice. The dog did her job.”

Dice stepped closer. He was about five feet away. “Oh yeah? And did you do your job by just standing there watching her sink her teeth into my skin over and over again?”

Delta didn’t respond. She was trying to formulate a plan. Maybe a leg sweep once his pants fell to his ankles. She’d seen Connie do it once in a demonstration. Maybe...

Connie. She was probably out of her head with worry by now, combing the city for Delta this very minute; cursing herself for letting Delta take such a risk, cursing everybody else because she couldn’t find her. Couldn’t and wouldn’t. Not unless...

“On your knees, bitch.”

Delta shook her head. “Not a chance. You want to get off, do it yourself. I imagine that’s the only way you get any these days anyway.”

Dice stepped closer. “You trying to make me mad or something?”

Delta remained standing. “If you’re gonna kill me, you’re going to have to do it while I’m on my feet. I will not get on my knees for the likes of you.”

Dice aimed the Uzi at Delta’s knees. “If I blow your kneecaps out, then you’ll be on your knees, won’t you?”

“Dice, if you shoot me anywhere with that, I’ll bleed to death before you have a chance to have any fun at all.”

“Then get on your knees.”

“Eat shit.”

Dice took one more step forward. If he was two feet closer, Delta would have a chance at the gun. But he was still too far away.

“Then take your clothes off.”

“You first. Or is your dick like your brain? Tiny and laughable.”

Even in the murky night, Delta could see Dice glaring at her. “As a matter-of-fact,” he said, dropping his pants to his ankles, “I got one of the biggest peters women have ever seen.”

Delta didn’t even look at it. Instead, her eyes remained glued to his gun.

“And you’re gonna suck on it if it’s the last thing you do.” He chuckled. “It probably will be the last thing you do.” Raising the gun to her face, Dice motioned for her to step forward. “Come to papa and make his dream come true.”

Dream? This was no dream. This was a nightmare. Death, she did-n’t mind. Torture was also semi-acceptable. But rape, forced oral copulation, and sodomy? Delta cringed at the thought. Her worst nightmares were coming to pass. If she didn’t do something about it, she would live out the reality of her worst nightmare.

Nightmare. This had all started because of the nightmares; the recurring images of her bloody failures that visited her nightly. Even now, as she stared down the barrel of the Uzi, those nightmares came flooding back to her. She remembered them as clearly as if they had been real. Over and over, the scars from the Zuckerman caper were ripped open at night, when she tried to close her eyes and forget. Each night, it started with a stifling darkness, as if someone had put a large hand over her mouth to keep her from breathing. Shafts of light filtered through tiny windows too high up to see through, and the sound of rats skittering across metal beams filled the air.

How many times would her subconscious relive the nightmarish realities she had faced on the job? How many nights did she wake up in a cold sweat, still feeling the fear, the adrenaline rush, the overpowering emotions of a memory she wore like an apendectomy scar? More often than she dare count, she saw herself gingerly stepping around a burning chair, following the barrel of her .357 Magnum as it sliced through the inky darkness. With a sharp shudder, she involuntarily remembered her last nightmare. She remembered the nightmare and the chain of events that led her to this desert, to this moment...

“I know you’re in here,” Delta stated sharply, wrapping her left index finger around the trigger. “I’ve killed before, you piece of shit, and I’ll do it again if you don’t leave her alone.” Delta waited for a response she knew would never come.

They were alone.

He had planned it that way and would play out his revenge until the bitter end.

Creeping through the murk, Delta was careful to avoid the rays of light dancing across the cement floor. She had been in this position before; she hadn’t been a victim then, and she wasn’t about to be one now.

“Delta,” came a low, gravelly voice from a distance. “You know you can’t stop me. No matter how hard you try, I will always beat you.”

Delta’s heart raced and she wiped the tiny beads of sweat off of her upper lip. The heat was unbearable and the fire that had consumed the chair suddenly swept up the drapes as well.

Drapes in a warehouse? Delta wondered, shrugging off the incongruency.

“Show yourself, you coward. Come out and face me and leave the girl alone.”

A maniacal laugh reverberated through the room. “You want her?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you can have her. Now and forever.”

Suddenly, a body swung down from the metal beam and jerked to a halt five feet from the ground.

“No!” Delta screamed, seeing the girl’s body suspended by a thick rope tied securely around her neck. Her head hung lazily to one side, and her eyes...

Those eyes. Those empty, lifeless eyes that stared at Delta, accusing her, berating her, reminding her of what a failure she had been.

Those eyes. How much longer would they haunt her?

Before Delta could move, maggots started worming their way out of the empty sockets, making their way toward the girl’s nose. Several fell off as they unsuccessfully inched down her pale cheek.

“It’s your fault, Delta. You took the law into your own hands and look what happened. Look!”

Delta dropped her gun and covered her ears. “No!”

“Yes, Delta. You know it’s true. She’s dead because of you. Dead and gone, and now she is plant food in the cemetery. How does it feel to know you’re responsible. Or is it your irresponsibility, hmm?”

Delta pressed her hands to her ears, but she couldn’t keep from hearing his words.

“Look at her Delta.”

Instead she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Look at her! Or are you afraid?”

With her hands still covering her ears and her eyes tightly shut, Delta could swear she was feeling her heart pounding against her chest. She did not want to look. She didn’t want to not look, either.

“Delta...she’s okay, really. Just see for yourself. I was just playing a trick on you.” The voice seemed distorted and Delta opened an eye to see why. She immediately regretted doing so. Swinging back and forth, as if someone had pushed her, was the little girl, laughing as maggots fell from her face onto the floor.

“No!” Delta cried out. “No! No! No!”

“Delta...”

“Get away from me!” Delta pushed away mysterious hands reaching out of nowhere to touch her.

“Delta, honey, wake up. You’re having another nightmare. Wake up.”

Delta sat straight up and looked around, still half asleep. Sweat ran down her back and her hands trembled when she reached up to wipe her perspiring forehead.

“Come here, baby,” Megan said, gently pulling Delta to her. “You’re okay, now. You’re with me.”

As the remaining sleepy fog lifted from Delta’s consciousness, she snuggled close to Megan’s breasts, afraid that even they might not be real.

“Same nightmare, sweetheart?”

Delta nodded, trying to slow her breathing. “Close enough.”

Every night, for the past two weeks, Delta had experienced the same nightmare like some ghoulish broken record. Over and over again, a little girl named Helen died and had maggots crawling from her eyes. Always, Delta could only stand by helplessly while a voice pierced through the night mocking her. And always, she had awakened sweating, shaking, and wondering if and when it would ever end.

“They’re the same, but getting worse. They feel more real to me each time.” Delta pressed her cheek against Megan’s chest. “I can’t stop it.”

Gently rocking Delta, Megan kissed her perspiring temple and held her tightly. “Shh. You just close your eyes now and think of you and me walking along the beach, okay?”

Nodding, Delta already felt her eyelids getting heavier. “Don’t let go of me, Meg.”

Running a well-manicured hand through Delta’s sweaty curls, Megan kissed her again. “Not in a million years, my love.”

Feeling her head rise and fall to the rhythm of Megan’s breathing, Delta closed her eyes and almost instantly fell back to sleep, unaware of the true nightmares which were about to confront her own reality head-on.

It had been a full two weeks of suspension when Delta finally opened the door to the new captain’s office for her first interview. Two weeks of gardening, suntanning, book reading, and soap opera watching and she had had enough. It seemed like everywhere she turned, whether it was books, television, or music, she saw Helen’s little face—the face of a little girl who died at the hands of a madman who had absolutely no regard for human life. Delta had failed to save Helen from Elson Zuckerman’s evil clutches, and it had haunted her every night for fourteen days straight. When it wasn’t plaguing her during the night, it was running through her days with reckless abandon tormenting her psyche. She couldn’t seem to escape the guilt, the frustration, and worst of all, the knowledge that she had failed to save a little girl from the hands of the devil himself.

She had failed Helen, and it felt as if her punishment for that failure would never end.

The only thing Delta had to look forward to was getting back to work. She loved the streets of her beat; the action, the pace, the nightto-night variety of calls she responded to. She enjoyed helping kids get home just as much as she enjoyed busting dope pushers, burglars, muggers, and thieves. But what she enjoyed most was knowing that she was the best there was. Still, even her best wasn’t good enough to save Helen.

Knocking on the door to the captain’s office, Delta waited for him to call her in.

“Come on in Delta,” Captain John Henry said, motioning for her to enter.

She slipped in and closed the door quietly before sitting on one of the large leather chairs across from the captain’s large oak desk. She hated the captain’s office. It reminded her of the many principal’s offices she had been sent to as a kid. It wasn’t that she was a troublemaker or a poor student—quite the contrary. Because Delta found schoolwork to be easy, she was always doing things that eventually got her in trouble. How many lectures had she had as a kid on the importance of following the rules?