Taken! Alphabet Series - 26 Original Taken! Tales (Donald Wells' Taken! Series Book 14) (6 page)

Afterwards, her husband placed his arm around her shoulders and guided her out the door.

(The events in
TAKEN!
I took place several months after the events in
TAKEN!
24B – Kidnapping The Devil)

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T
he Bennington Correctional Institution sat sheltered by rolling hills and tall trees and was accessible by a long, winding driveway.

The facility held less than a score of inmates, inmates with very special needs.

Twelve of the men were quadriplegics or in comas, while the remaining six inmates were so severely damaged mentally that they were no longer a threat to themselves or others. However, sentences had been handed down, harsh sentences such as life without parole, and the state was duty bound to see that they were carried out.

Bennington was constructed only after numerous court battles by civil liberty attorneys, in which it was asserted that housing such physically challenged men among the general population, even in isolation, amounted to cruel and unusual punishment.

Bennington was a long, one-story brick building that was rare in the world of correctional facilities, in that it had no fences or guard towers. The men housed within were incapable of feeding themselves, much less escaping, and so, the facility’s staff was comprised almost entirely of medical personnel, and at night, only a single armed guard kept watch.

It was because of this lax security that the visitor was able to come and go as she pleased.

***

1
:27 a.m.

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I
nmate 16B laid awake in his bed.

Somehow, he knew.

She was coming.

Inmate 16B had suffered an injury that left him paralyzed from the neck down and in need of a tracheostomy tube to aid in his breathing, but there was nothing wrong with his eyesight or hearing, and so he listened carefully and kept watch.

He was in a room with two other inmates, both of whom were little more than vegetables.

The two men had suffered severe brain damage during the commission of separate crimes, one from a gunshot to the head, and the other had nearly drowned.

Inmate 16B thought that a pair of houseplants would have provided more company, but at least the two slept like logs at night, which was good; he needed them silent if he was to hear her approach.

He had told the staff of her visits and no one believed him.

No, it wasn’t that they didn’t believe him, it was that they didn’t give a damn about anything he did or said.

He was despised by everyone and often reviled by those he came in contact with since the ordeal of his injury had begun. He was also hated for his crimes.

It hadn’t helped that in the early days he spewed nothing but vileness. He had cursed and denigrated anyone in sight with the most obscene utterance that he could muster. Not because he hated them all, which he most certainly did, but no, that wasn’t the reason.

He had been trying to evoke a response in one of them, trying to fan a spark of hatred into a flame of murderous rage so that they would despise him enough to kill him, to kill him and end the suffering.

He looked up, thankful for the shadows that enveloped the hated ceiling, a bland, beige surface that he was forced to look at day in and day out.

The room had a TV, but he abhorred the twaddle shown on it, yet had to endure it most of the time, because the shifting light and sound of the programs seemed to soothe his two roommates.

A low sound echoed in the room and he began darting his eyes about.

Was she here? Was it her?

But no, he soon caught wind of it, literally, as the putrid odor of a bowel movement sent forth by one of his sleeping companions filled the room with its stench.

Tears welled up in his eyes.

He was truly in hell.

Creeeeeak

The door from the hall swung open and a widening triangle of light spilled across the floor, followed by a small figure dressed in dark clothing.

His tears spilled across his cheeks and unto the pillow beneath his head as the figure drew closer.

Each time she came, he marveled at her.

How did she get to the facility and past security?

Because she wasn’t human he had come to believe, not human, but a devil wearing the guise of a child.

***

S
amantha Ryan climbed atop the bed and stared down at the thin, sallow face of the man she knew only as Jack, Jack who had kidnapped her and coldly murdered her friend, Maria.

She straddled him, sat down on his chest, and smiled.

“Hello, Jack, did you miss me?”

Samantha grabbed the tube feeding oxygen into Jack’s throat, and squeezed it. Before long, Jack found that his air supply had elapsed and he began to gasp, as he desperately tried to fill his lungs.

Just as he was on the verge of passing out, Samantha released the pressure and let the air flow again.

When Jack had recovered enough to speak, he gazed into her eyes.

“Kill me, oh God almighty please just kill me, I’m begging you... please?”

Samantha saw the agony etched on his face and heard the desperation in his raspy voice, as fresh tears fell from his eyes.

“No, Jack, Mr. White was right, this is so much better than killing you.”

And as she squeezed the tube once more, she giggled.

(The events in
TAKEN!
J took place one day prior to the events in
TAKEN!
50)

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T
yler Davidson let loose a heavy sigh before turning off the engine and climbing out of his car.

He looked at the old house and saw a curtain fall back in place, and he knew that she had been watching, waiting for his arrival.

The front door opened when he was halfway up the steps and the old woman smiled at him.

Her name was Mary Langdon. Mary was white with radiant silver hair and gray eyes, and had been a true beauty in her youth. She was eighty-three and all alone in the world, or she would be, if not for Tyler Davidson.

“Hello, Tyler, how have you been?”

“I’ve been good, Mary, and you?”

“Well, you know, the usual aches and pains. The doctor told me to cut down on the coffee, said I should limit myself to only one cup a day.”

Tyler winced.

“Following that advice must be tough; I know how much you love coffee.”

“I manage, and speaking of coffee, why don’t we sit and have some?”

“Lead the way.”

Mary escorted him into the home and Tyler became aware of a musty odor. The house was old, so old that not only Mary, but also Mary’s mother had been born there. Still, the home had been kept in good repair over the years and Tyler would make certain that it stayed that way for as long as Mary lived.

As he walked along the hallway to the kitchen, he saw that the floor was dusty, a strange sight in the home of Mary Langdon, who normally kept the place spotless, Tyler also took note that Mary was moving a bit slower than usual, perhaps the years were taking a greater toll.

Once in the kitchen, Tyler smelled the aroma of coffee and sitting atop the table was a homemade pie, cherry, his favorite.

Tyler sat in his usual spot near the window and Mary poured him a cup of coffee, and then told him to help himself to the pie.

“Are you having coffee too, Mary, or have you already had your allotted cup today?”

Mary’s eyes twinkled as she held up a finger in a, “Wait a second,” gesture, and then she opened the microwave, removed her coffee cup, and sat it on the table.

The white china mug was humongous and Tyler guessed that it could probably hold as much as the average thermos.

Mary smiled at him.

“The doctor said that I could only have a cup a day, but he didn’t say what cup.”

Tyler burst out laughing and Mary joined in.

“You’re a devil, Mary... and smart.”

“I always do what the doctor says, but coffee is the only vice I have left, so I had to get creative.”

“Well, you’ve done that all right,”

The cup was so big that Mary had to lift it with both hands.

They began talking, and he told her of his recent move to the area from Detroit. Mary beamed with pleasure when he told her that he might be visiting more often, but then scowled with concern.

“Now don’t you start looking in on me too much, you have your own life to live too.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“All right then, but now tell me more about this girl of yours, this Kari, I take it she’s a pretty little thing?”

“She’s gorgeous, and I thank God every day for her.”

“I’m glad you found someone; I was so worried for you after your wife died.”

They talked a little longer, and then Tyler grabbed the toolbox from the hall closet and went up to fix the leak in the bathroom sink.

When he finished changing the washer in the hot water faucet, he moved the shower curtain aside and saw that the tub could use a good scrubbing, particularly the grout between the tiles.

Mary met him at the foot of the stairs as he came down.

“Is it fixed?”

“It is, and is there anything else that needs mending?”

“Not that I can think of, and thank you for fixing that leak.”

Tyler stared at the floor.

“Mary, I can’t help but notice that the house seems a little less tidy than usual. Has your back been acting up again?”

“Just a bit; it’s why I went to see the doctor. He told me that I’d been doing too much, but I can’t stand the house like this, so as soon as I’m better I’ll put her back in shape, believe it.”

“Kari and I just hired a woman to clean; she seems very nice and came recommended by friends. Please let me send her around here to help out.”

Mary frowned.

“But, Tyler, you already do so much.”

“It’s not a problem; you know that, so, should I send her by?”

Mary nodded, as her eyes began to glisten with tears. She reached up and placed a wrinkled hand on Tyler’s cheek.

“You are such a good man. My Jimmy truly had a friend in you.”

Tyler struggled to keep his voice steady as he answered.

“It’s all right, Mary, I owe Jimmy more than I could ever repay.”

They talked a little longer, and then Tyler said goodbye, as Mary gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Take care, Tyler, and thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and I’ll see you again soon.”

Tyler departed from Mary’s, but when he was less than a mile away from the home, he had to pull over and park on the side of the road, as tears threatened to blind him.

He was never a friend of Mary’s son, Jimmy. In truth, he met the man once, on the day he killed him.

Rogue FBI agents Ethan Burke and Teresa Ramos had discovered that Tyler was acting as a vigilante, and they used that knowledge along with evidence of his crimes to blackmail him.

Before he could free himself from their grip, they had forced him to kill for them five times.

Four of those men were as evil in their own way as the drug dealers he’d previously exterminated, but the fifth man, Mary’s son, James Langdon, was not an evil man, but had been portrayed as such by Burke and Ramos.

Langdon was actually a reporter who had somehow gotten a hint of what Burke and Ramos were up to, as they tried to build their private army. By the time Tyler realized he had been deceived, Burke and Ramos were dead and he was free from their grip.

Curiosity led him to look into James Langdon’s life and that’s when he discovered Mary, Langdon’s widowed mother.

Mary had lost not only Langdon, but also all other family, including Langdon’s brother, an army colonel who had died in Afghanistan.

Knowing he owed a debt of honor, Tyler approached Mary under the pretext of being Langdon’s friend, and has been looking out for the old woman ever since.

However, the guise takes its toll, and Tyler realizes that he owes a debt that he can never hope to repay.

With his eyes once more free of tears, Tyler placed the car back in gear and headed for home, his obligation attended to, his conscience eased, just a bit, just a bit.

(The events in
TAKEN!
K took place three months after
TAKEN!
15)

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H
e entered the room and stood in the middle of it, then, slowly turned in a circle until he had taken all of it in.

The thing that struck him most were the colors, multiple shades of pink, purple, orange, blue, green, and red, each one vibrant and alive with optimism.

The floor was covered with a shag rug that was purple, and he thought that it must have been chosen for its pleasing texture beneath bare feet as much as for its color.

The queen-size bed was a pink wonder with frills or tassels upon every surface. Two oversized pillows sat back against the padded headboard and their coverings had the face of a teen idol upon them, a boy with smoldering eyes and pouty lips.

On the wall was a poster of the same boy, along with other posters of recent movies and other teen boys. The walls themselves were all a different color, red, green, blue, and orange, while overhead, the ceiling was a muted pink, but displayed twin unicorns, as large decals of the mythical animals had been applied to its surface.

The curtains on the windows were the same color as the ceiling and they too were decorated with unicorns, unicorns of many colors.

Everything was color. The TV was blue, the laptop hot pink, and on a red bedside table sat a green alarm clock.

Everything was color and the color spoke of life, of joy, of an endless optimism and enthusiasm for being alive and being young and having the future laid out before you.

The color spoke of love.

He sat down upon the foot of the bed and thought about the last time he was in this room.

Then, the floor had been bare, showing only scarred wood, the furniture, a narrow bed that sagged, along with a chest of drawers and a lamp.

No posters adorned the plain, white walls then, and the TV was so old that it still had rabbit ears for an antenna.