The Demented Z (Book 2): Desolation (Book 2) (9 page)

“Yeah, me too.”

A few people on the far wall suddenly started whispering to
each other. Hank turned to see what they
were looking at and saw Big Mike standing in the main entryway talking to
Trips. He could not make out what they
were saying, but Trips kept nodding his head while Big Mike spoke.
  After a few minutes, Big Mike patted Trips on
the shoulder and headed toward Hank and Dennis.

“Well, well, well boys, now is when the fun begins.”
  Big Mike said as he approached.

“Trip to Hawaii?”
  Hank said.

“Somethin’ like
that.”   Big Mike said with a grin.
  Pointing a large revolver right at Dennis, he
said, “Okay ladies, we can do this easy or hard.
  Get to your feet.”

Rather than delay the inevitable and cause a scene, both men
spun to their knees and slowly stood.  
Hank was surprised how tough it was to stand up with your hands bound
behind your back.

“That was challenging.”  
Dennis said.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Big Mike motioned with his pistol for them to lead the way.
  With his direction they made their way down
the hall and up a couple flights of stairs.  
At the top, Hank could hear voices coming from around the corner.

Walking in front of them, Big Mike said, “This might not be
fun ladies.”   When he reached the corner,
he turned back toward them and added, “Right this way.”

Hank and Dennis made their way around the corner and looked
down the dark hallway. Light spilled out
of an open doorway ten yards away.  
Austin and Lincoln stood inside the room talking to each other.
  Both men’s hands and shirts were bloodied.

At Dennis and Hank’s approach both men stopped talking and
turned toward them. Lincoln smiled a
devious grin. Austin dropped his head and
shuffled back to the windows where the light spilled in.

If Hank had his hands free he would
have gave escape a shot, however in his current state he knew there was no
chance. He wasn’t sure what Lincoln wanted,
but if it was information, he was in trouble.  
Other than seeing the direction Tom and Eddie ran off in, he didn’t know
anything.

Stepping into the room, they were both terrified to see what
lay in front of them. In the center of
the room was a large operating table, sitting under a pair of large robotic
looking surgery lights. The once white
covers were splattered with red blood, some of it still dripping into crimson
pools on the floor below. In addition to
the high tech monitoring equipment, the table was also surrounded by several
carts piled with various medical tools.  
Scalpels, forceps, syringes, and all sorts of other tools that Hank did
not recognize were scattered about their tops.

On the floor behind the surgery table was Brad.
  His bloodied form lay unmoving on the tile, a
small pool of blood spreading around his head.  
His chest moved slowly, rhythmically, signaling that he still lived.

Dennis started to run over to him, but Austin stepped out in
the way. He put his hand out on Dennis’s
chest and said, “Questions first.”

Fuming in anger, Dennis said, “What have you done?
  He never harmed a soul.”

Lincoln stepped over next to both men.
  “He didn’t tell us what we needed, but you
can.”   He looked over to the bloody
operating table and then back to Dennis.  
“We can save some time and do this the easy way...or we can have some fun
and take our time.”

“I did two tours in Vietnam.  
I’ve been to this rodeo.”

Lincoln walked over to one of the tool carts and began
picking up one tool after another until finally keeping a pair of shears.
  Holding them up, he smiled and turned to
Hank. “You know, I thought you old timers
would say something like that...and from Big Mike’s previous experience, this one
over here, Hank I believe, is a tough one to crack.
  So, I have a different plan...maybe save us all
some time.”

Hank stepped forward and said, “We don’t even know what you
want. How the hell are we supposed to
tell you anything?”

Turning toward the entryway, Lincoln shouted out to Big
Mike, “Bring her in Mike.”

A wheelchair came rolling into the room with Rachael sitting
in it, looking pale and in pain.

“Rachael!”   Hank
said. He started to move toward her, but
Big Mike shook his head and held the barrel of his pistol to the back of her
head.

Lincoln said, “Look what we found down in the emergency
room. Your friend seems to have taken a
turn for the worse.”   He ran his fingers
along the sharp edge of the shears and added, “My bet is that she has never
been to this rodeo.”

“Leave her out of this.”  
Hank said.

“Answer me and I will.”  
Lincoln turned toward Dennis and said, “Don’t screw this up.
  In the basement is a huge safe.
  Give me the combo.”

Hank was surprised by the question.
  He wasn’t sure what he expected Lincoln to
ask, but this was not it.

“No.”   Dennis said.

With alarming speed Lincoln stepped over to Rachael, lifter
her arm, and used the shears to snip off her pinky.
  She immediately screamed in agony.
  Dark blood streamed out of the stump, running
down her arm, and dripping off her elbow to the floor.

Hank started to rush forward, but Lincoln turned toward him,
anger filling his face. “Don’t even think
about it.”   He growled.
  “I tried to do this the easy way.”
  He pointed the bloody shears at Dennis.
  “You chose this.”

Dennis tried to remain stoic, but was clearly shaken a bit
by Lincoln’s brutality.

Hank was pissed. He
started toward Rachael, but Austin grabbed him from behind.

“Whoa...I think you better stay put old timer.”
  Austin said.

“I can’t...”   Dennis
started to say.

Before he could finish Lincoln reached over, grabbed
Rachael’s hand, and used the shears to remove her ring finger.
  She was already screaming, but the pitch
increased a notch and her face went ghost white.

“Dennis, give him the combo.”
  Hank shouted.

Looking back at Hank, fear and desperation in his eyes,
Dennis said, “We have everything in there.  
Guns, ammo, food...”   He left the
statement unfinished, clearly in a panic.  
The decision was huge and having the added pressure of someone getting
appendages snipped off was not helping anything.

“You don’t know what she’s been through.
  Too damn much, she can’t go through more.”
  Hank pleaded.

Lincoln grabbed Rachael’s hand again, but before he could
begin any dirty work Dennis shouted for him to stop and began rattling off a
set of numbers. He had
broke and was spewing the numbers
out as quickly as possible, spit flying from his mouth.

Lincoln stopped and looked up at Big Mike.
  “Write this down.”
  He spun back toward Dennis and said, “Now how
hard was that?   I’m going to go give
those numbers a try while Austin and Mike keep an eye
on you clowns.”

Hank took a step forward, looking at Rachael’s hand.
  “Can we get her something for her hand?”
  He turned back toward Austin, figuring he
might be the best shot. “Gauze, towel,
rag...anything?   She’s losing a lot of
blood.”

Austin nodded and began digging through the cupboards that
surrounded the room. After looking
behind a few doors he found a stack of pre-packaged sterile wraps.
  After watching Lincoln leave
the room he stepped over to Rachael, ripped open a couple of the packages, and
handed them to her. She was hunched over
in agony, but managed to take them in her free hand.
  She used them in an attempt to slow the flow
of blood.

“That’s it. Clip my
zip tie so I can help her.”   Hank said.

Austin let out a low laugh.  
“I don’t think so.”

Hank noticed for the first time that Rachael had a poultice
and lump of gauze across her shoulders and on the back of her neck.
  Portions of the gauze were tinted in pink
where blood had begun to soak through.  
It was amazing she was still alive and to have to go through what
Lincoln put her through was beyond injustice.

Brad began groaning on the floor.
  Everyone looked down at him.
  He rolled over onto his side and spit up
blood and vomit. Dennis stepped over and
kneeled down next to him. Unable to use
his hands, he listened to Brad’s breathing.  
It was a bit ragged, but sounded clear and strong.
  His wounds appeared to be mostly bruising and
surface cuts. He looked like the losing
end of a mixed martial arts bout.

Big Mike started to say something, but stopped when the
sound of footsteps echoed in from the hallway.  
Everyone turned to see who approached.  
Lincoln came strolling through the doorway with a huge grin on his
face. His shoulders held high, dripping
with arrogance.

“Thank you for the goods.  
We might have to shop here more often.”  
Lincoln said.

Austin puffed out his chest.  
“Told you there was a ton of stuff in there.”

Lincoln ignored him and walked over next to Big Mike.
  Absent mindedly looking down at Rachael, he
said, “Boys are loading up the goods right now.”
  He looked over at Dennis and Hank, hesitated
for a bit and then added, “Once they get it all they’re going to bring the
others up here. Give us some time to get
out of here.”

“Sure we should leave ‘em
alive?”   Austin asked.

“It will be just fine.”  
Lincoln said.

“What about Tom and Eddie?

Anger flashed across Lincoln’s face and then disappeared
just as quickly as it had come. “Just
leave things to me.”

Austin looked about to say something, but stopped himself.

Hank had a bad feeling about this.
  None of these men seemed the type for
kindness with his hands secured, he would have to
wait, hoping for an opportunity to present itself.

After what seemed like an hour, but was likely a matter of
minutes, the patter of feet and rumblings of conversation filtered in through
the doorway. One at a time a stream of
familiar faces began pouring into the operating room.
  Each of them still had their wrists bound behind
their backs. Most of them looked down at
the floor while they shuffled in, some were conversing with those around them,
and others looked about the room, eyes wide, like trapped animals.
  Following the hospital group into the room
were several of Lincoln’s men, rifles trained on the hostages.
  Once everyone was in the room a couple of the
men stood in the doorway, weapons held loosely in front of them.

Lincoln stepped over in front of the men and turned around
to the group. With a used car salesman
grin he addressed the room. “Thank you
for the weapons and food. We will put it
to good use.”   He started to turn around
and then said, “Oh...one last thing.”  
Spinning back around he held the bloody shears up and said, “Anyone know
who else Tom, Hank, and Rachael arrived with?”

Nobody said anything.

Austin said, “I know who was with them.”

“Not you. I want to make this...interesting.
  I will ask nice one more time.
  Who?”

A few people began looking around, but nobody said a word.

“Well okay then.”  
Lincoln walked over to the nearest person.
 

The boy looked to be in his mid-teens.
  Hank had never met him, only passed him in
the hall a couple times. The dark haired
kid normally had a large smile on his face, but now cowered in fear.
  His eyes locked on the shears and he began to
tremble.

“If you answer my question I’ll cut off all of your fingers
and gouge out your eyes.”   He reached behind
the kid’s back and grabbed one of his wrists, lifting his hand up next to the
shears. Looking out toward the group, he
said, “Now we do it the hard way.”

Before he could cut off a finger, Kelly stood up and said,
“Leave the kid alone. It was me.
  I arrived with Tom.”

Looking down at the kid, Lincoln smiled and said, “Aren’t
you just lucky.”   He let go of the kid’s
wrist and walked over to where Kelly stood.  
“Well, well, well...you must be his wife.  
If I remember right, Tom said family, not just wife...so...”
  He looked around, rubbing his chin.
  “I’m thinking there were others with
you.”   Looking behind Kelly at Sam
hunched on the floor, he said, “Maybe a little boy.”

“Leave him!”   Kelly
shuffled backwards, directly in front of Sam.

Grinning, Lincoln sniffed the air in front of Kelly, licked
his lips, and said, “As much as I’d like to have you darling, I think I have a
better plan.”   He turned back toward the
door. “Trips!
  Grab the kid.”

“Nooo!”
  Kelly screamed.

Hank stepped forward.  
“Take me. Leave him out of it,
he’s just a kid.”

Lincoln neared the doorway, stopped, turned, and then walked
over to the teenager he had terrified earlier.  
Drawing the pistol from the holster on his side, he pointed it at the
kid’s thigh and pulled the trigger. The
boom was deafening in the small space.  
The large caliber pistol ripped a giant hole in his leg, blowing red and
white chunks out the back. The boy’s
face went ghost white and he fainted to the ground, never letting out a sound.

Everyone stood in silence.  
Kelly hunched down next to Sam, wrapping him in her arms, sobbing.
  Little Sam buried his face into her lap.

“One more word and the next shot is
in the head...and another person for every word after that.”
  Lincoln shouted.
  He swung the pistol around, pointing at
several people’s faces. “This is not a
democracy. This is not a debate.
  This is not up to you.”
  He looked over at Trips.
  “Grab the kid.
  Anyone makes a peep, shoot them and the
person next to them.”   After that he
stormed out of the room, leaving everyone trembling and quiet.