Slaves to Evil - 11 (10 page)

Matt rolled off Woronicz, putting the cop’s body between him and Lennox. Woronicz used his momentum to keep going, so that he now loomed over Matt. With one hand, he pinned Matt’s gun hand to the floor. With the other, he brought down the razor. Matt caught his wrist, barely keeping the blade at bay. They stayed like that for a moment, neither one able to break the other’s grip. But the cop had the better position, slowly but surely forcing the straight razor down toward Matt’s throat. Lennox held back, watching, ready to fire if necessary.

Matt gagged on the thick stink of decay coming from Woronicz. His putrefied face had begun to slide slowly down his skull. He inched closer and the razor grazed Matt’s skin. Matt could think of only one thing to do.

He bit Woronicz. He sank his teeth into the rotting, fetid flesh of the man’s cheek and clamped down hard. Pus squirted into his mouth and he fought the urge to vomit. The cop shrieked, trying to pull away, but Matt held on. Woronicz loosened his grip on the gun. Matt yanked it free. He let go with his teeth and shoved the barrel under the cop’s chin. He pulled the trigger.

The blast was deafening at such close range. Matt was splattered with blood and God knew what else as the bullet tore through Woronicz’s head. He shoved the body off himself as Lennox fired. This shot caught Matt in the same damn shoulder Elena had hit. Matt raised his own gun and fired. He hit the chief in the leg. As the man fell, Matt rushed in and put two more shots into his skull.

He turned away from the dead cop and retched. He spat several times, desperate to get rid of that unspeakable taste. Did they sell industrial-strength Listerine?

In the corner of his eye, he saw movement and the glint of metal. Instinctively he turned his gun toward the potential threat. He was stunned to see Elena.
How the hell…?
Then he saw that she was pointing Lennox’s gun at his head.

When she found Officer Ross outside the coffee shop, Elena had naturally assumed that her ordeal was over. She hadn’t been the least bit suspicious when Ross kept asking if she had any friends or family she should call, anyone who might be worried about her. No, said Elena, her parents thought she was at college and her college friends thought she was back home. No one had any idea that she was missing.

With that assurance, Ross snapped a pair of handcuffs around Elena’s wrists and threw her into the back of a patrol car. She drove up the lake house and dragged the struggling, cursing girl down to the basement. Elena didn’t know exactly what was going on, but it seemed safe to assume she was in serious trouble.

This was confirmed when Woronicz sauntered downstairs to examine the new arrival. He appraised her coolly, not reacting even when she spit at him. Then he pulled out the straight razor.

Elena had still been frozen in horror when a body came tumbling down the stairs. As soon as Woronicz turned to look, she pulled away and ducked behind the couch. Then she heard the sounds of a fight. She peered around the arm of the couch and was stunned to recognize Woronicz’s opponent. She couldn’t bring herself to root for her previous kidnapper but wasn’t exactly sorry when Matt blew away the two bad cops. The second guy collapsed near the couch, his body within easy reach. So was his gun.

As Matt turned away to retch, Elena slid her cuffed wrists from behind her back, under her legs, so they were now in front of her. She grabbed the weapon and aimed it at Matt. Just as quickly, he turned his gun on her. They stood there for a long moment, each with one finger resting on the trigger, ready to fire.

So here it was, thought Matt, the very choice Mr. Dark had predicted.

Kill or be killed.

Matt broke the tense silence. “Don’t do this,” he said, as calmly as he could.

Elena didn’t answer. She also didn’t lower her gun. She was trying to look tough, but Matt could see her struggling. He flashed through the last few days, every interaction, every conversation they’d had. Was Matt kidding himself to imagine that any of it could have changed her mind?

Maybe so. But the Dark Man was definitely wrong about one thing. Matt wouldn’t shoot Elena, even to save his own life. So really, there was no point in holding on to the gun.

He put it down. Now the choice was hers.

The next ten seconds took years to pass. Elena didn’t move, but he saw her struggling. Very slowly, she began to lower the gun. She turned away, fighting angry tears, and tossed it aside. Matt was quiet for a moment.

He pulled the handcuff key from his pocket and held it out to her. “Here.”

Elena looked back at him and extended her hands. He unlocked the cuffs. Then he examined the new gunshot wound in his shoulder. Not as bad as the first, he noted, but every bit as painful. He was going to need a lot more ibuprofen.

“There are two more women in a second-floor bedroom,” he told Elena. “One of the cops is up there too, handcuffed to the bed. So is the mayor. He’s part of this too.” He thought for a moment. “There’s one more cop out on the lawn. She’s dead. Talk to Sergeant Sheridan at the Breckenridge PD…”

Elena knew why he was telling her this. “You’re running away.”

“Yes,” he said simply. No point in denying it. “I killed three cops. The ‘why’ won’t matter much.”

She considered this, then nodded. Matt felt he should say something else but couldn’t think of what. He went quietly up the stairs and out of the house.

The “horror in suburbia” was big news in the
Duluth News Tribune
for about three days, heavy on the sexual angle, of course. Mayor Perkins was the focus of the scandal. He faced a number of criminal charges, as did rookie officer J.J. O’Neill.

Matt’s name didn’t appear in a single story. New chief of police Alan Sheridan had no reason to bring it up. According to the official report, the female captives had staged their own escape, killing three of their captors in their desperate fight for freedom.

Matt liked that version.

Elena was mentioned as one of the heroic women, but there was nothing about her previous captivity.

Or, of course, her reason for coming to Breckenridge in the first place.

Kathy Lennox appeared in a photo accompanying one of the articles. It was an older picture of her and the chief at a charity dinner. The caption stressed the contrast between Lennox’s public face and the dark secret life revealed after his death. Matt hoped that Kathy and Chris would be all right. Once they got through this, he thought they would be.

Matt surveyed the schedule board in the transit station in Cedar Rapids, considering his next destination. He wondered again if he really was free to go anywhere he wanted, or if some kind of fate would direct his choice. He turned to the older gentleman standing beside him, peering at the board.

“Where you headed?” he asked casually.

“Oswego,” replied the other man, squinting harder.

Matt checked the board. “Looks like the next bus leaves at seven thirty.”

The man relaxed and gave him a smile. “Thanks.”

He moved off to grab a good spot in the lounge. He didn’t look much like an agent of destiny, but he could be.

Anyone could be.

It was entirely up to Matt how crazy he let that make him.

Oswego,
he thought.
Why not?

About the Author

Lisa has made a career of writing for aliens, holograms, psychics and demi-Gods. She got her start with the Star Trek series Deep Space Nine and Voyager. She has written for several other media, include Batman comics the Borg 4-D attraction in Las Vegas. Lisa is also a five-time Jeopardy champion. This is her first novel.