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Authors: Christopher Allan Poe

Tags: #Horror

The Portal ~ Large Print (8 page)

BOOK: The Portal ~ Large Print
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CHAPTER 15

N
ight had almost
arrived when they passed mile marker fifty-seven. Erika slowed and turned off Highway 101 onto a dirt road. As they wound farther from cross traffic, Vivian grew uneasy. She wanted to avoid prying eyes, but this area seemed dangerously secluded. Still, nothing would stop her from getting Cody back tonight, and she couldn’t risk running into Jarod without some protection.

“He should be here soon,” Erika said as they reached a clearing. Under a dark and dirty sky, a lattice of rusted beams and walkways connected three decaying silos. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“You do know this guy, right?”

“Contrary to public opinion, most black folks don’t have gun pushers on speed dial. He was our only option.”

“Sorry.” She realized how rude it sounded. “I’m just nervous.”

“I know you’re scared for Cody. I’m terrified too, but this feels wrong. Let’s just leave.”

“I can’t go into the estate unarmed.”

“I’ll buy you anything you want from the store.”

She’d already considered it, but the waiting period was out of the question.

“I’m getting him back tonight,” Vivian said.

“Even if you had a gun, do you really think you can just slip by Jarod’s security?”

“If you’ve got a better idea.”

“With that much cash, I can think of a dozen. Hire somebody.”

“Who?” Vivian asked. “I don’t know those kinds of people, and he could always pay them more.”

Brakes squealed behind them. To the left, a dark sedan pulled into the lot. It parked about thirty yards away.

“We can still leave,” Erika said.

“I can’t.” She tucked a single stack of hundreds underneath her belt. Ten thousand should cover anything she needed. “Hang here in case something goes wrong.”

“Fine, but if we end up in a dumpster, it’s on you.”

As she got out of the car, drizzled wind pushed against her. In the distance, a squeaking windmill formed an eerie rhythm with a piece of flapping metal.

She walked over to the sedan and knocked the designated three times on the window. A forty-something man opened the door and stood. Stubble formed a crown on his bald head.

“Let’s make this quick,” she said.

“In this line of business, you should take a moment to get to know your associates.” His voice was calm, but that wasn’t what disturbed her the most. A gun-toting militia nut would’ve made sense to her, but he was everything she didn’t expect. Dressed in a navy suit with handkerchief, he looked like a stockbroker. What else hadn’t she planned for?

“I’m not a cop,” she said. “If that’s what you mean.”

He looked over her shoulder. “You were supposed to come alone.”

“She’s here for my safety.” The rain picked up slightly, dotting his glasses, but he didn’t take his eyes from her. Erika’s dumpster comment began to freak her out. “Are we going to do this or not?”

“I take it you brought cash?” He opened a black umbrella.

If she answered truthfully, would he rob them? It wasn’t as though they could go to the police. “I want to see the guns first.”

“I see.” He paused. “Well, we’re not going to get anywhere unless somebody leaps.” He walked back and opened the trunk. She couldn’t shake her sinking feeling as she stared at the dozen handguns, neatly harnessed on gray felt.

She pulled out the money. “My friend snapped your license plate on the way in here. If anything happens to me—”

“Right, fine,” he said. “Now what can I get you? Something for your purse?”

“If I have to shoot someone, I don’t want them getting back up.”

“Okay.” He looked as though her answer surprised him. “Any of these will pack a punch. For your body size, you’ll probably want a nine millimeter with Cop Killer or hollow point ammunition for maximum yield.”

She’d emptied an entire clip into Jarod’s head, and he’d still stolen her son. “Which ones do the most damage?”

“That depends.” He opened a box and showed her bullets packed in foam. “Armor-piercing brass core can punch through metal. Small clean holes.” That didn’t sound like anything Jarod couldn’t heal from. He held up a new box. “But Black Rhinos shatter into tiny razors on impact. They carry punch and even cut through Kevlar.”

He handed her his umbrella. In two deft moves, he loaded the gun. It was over. He was going to shoot her right there. She almost ran, but at the last second, he turned and fired at an aluminum keg next to a cold campfire. The bullet ripped a massive hole and spun the keg. For seconds after, the hills rumbled.

“As you can see, not only does it deliver, but the sound wave can scare off potential attackers as well.”

She took a second to quiet her beating heart, and then handed him back the umbrella. She’d seen enough. “How much for all the Rhino bullets you have and four handguns?”

“We need to talk,” Erika said from behind. Damn. The gunfire must have scared her, but how had she walked up so quietly?

“Excuse us,” Vivian said to him calmly, but inside she was panicking. They walked back to the Prius.

“I think he’s okay,” Vivian said. “But I need you to stay with the car.”

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m getting my son back.”

“Right.” Erika crossed her arms. “With armor-piercing bullets.”

“Please just trust me.” She checked to make sure the man hadn’t moved. For the time being, he seemed content to wait. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You said those exact words when you dropped out of college to marry that jerk. And I told myself that it wasn’t my place to push, but I won’t sit back this time.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I get it just fine,” Erika said. “You’re scared, and you’re about to go off half-crazy.”

Vivian wanted more than anything to just tell her. But Jarod’s deformity and lightning storms? The radio in the room upstairs? It was too much. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it.

“I have to get him back tonight,” Vivian said.

“Cody is going to grow up without a mother. Do you want that?”

“Of course not.” Her voice shook.

“Then help me. Why do you have to do things the hard way?”

“I’m not trying—”

“Better yet, you tell me why it’s even smart to bring a gun. What if you killed somebody? What then?”

Despite the wind, Phil’s screams echoed in her mind louder. “He murdered those boys in front of us.”

“That’s no excuse for you to become a murderer, too.”

“Dammit. He’s not human.” The words slipped out.

“You should have thought of that before you married him.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She paused, trying to think of a way out of this mess. Only the truth came to mind. Erika deserved at least that. “After he killed those kids last night, I shot him in the head. He stood back up and pulled Cody from my arms.”

“Excuse me?” Erika gave her a look, and she knew that she’d just blown it. “Are you trying to say that he’s not a human being?”

“I’m not sure what he is.”

“I
knew
something was wrong with that man.”

Wait. She couldn’t have heard right. “You believe me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“And sound like a crazy person?”

Suddenly, Erika looked around as if realizing some truth. She turned and began speed walking over to the man. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?” Vivian followed close behind. “I don’t know about this guy.”

Erika waved her away as they approached the sedan.

“Yes?” he said. The trunk lid was down, but it was still cracked.

“How much for all the guns you have in there?” Erika asked him.

“That’s going to be pretty expensive. Are you sure you—”

“Yeah,” Erika said. “And we want all of those exploding bullets, too.” She motioned to the money in Vivian’s hand with her eyes, so she handed it to him. “We’re getting Cody back tonight.”

Vivian nodded.

“Then that leaves only one more thing.” The man closed the trunk, reached into his back pocket, and flashed a badge. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law.”

CHAPTER 16

M
inutes passed like
days in the cinderblock room. On the far side of the desk at which Vivian sat, a video camera rested on a tripod. A trail of wires led from it to a blank television screen. She dropped her head into her hands. For the last year and a half, some version of this moment had haunted her dreams. How could she have let it come to this?

A buzz preceded a loud click, and the steel door opened. Carrying a file in one hand and mug in the other, a giant officer, maybe six-five, entered the room. He looked as though he spent every waking moment lifting weights.

“Why am I still here?” Vivian asked.

“We’ll get to that.” He set his items down, rolled up his sleeves, and placed his badge face-up. The gun holstered under his arm seemed as menacing as he was. “I’m Detective Torres.”

“It’s been almost three hours.” Did they know that she’d given them a phony ID and social? The license photos were nearly identical, and Erika had been prepped, but what if they ran her fingerprints? She needed to hurry this up before they realized that she wasn’t Sarah Hoffman. “Please, I left my son with the babysitter.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “This may take some time.”

“How long?”

“That depends on you.” He turned on the television.

Her face filled the screen. She wiped a smudge from her cheek, but it didn’t help. Covered in a layer of sweaty grit, she looked guilty of any crime they wanted to throw at her.

“Where’s Erika?” she asked.

“You two have been charged with possession of illegal weapons.”

She relaxed slightly. If they’d matched her prints, the kidnapping charges would’ve come up.

“Before we start, would you like anything to drink?”

“Can we just get this over with?” She realized that she was biting her lower lip and stopped.

“I’m not sure that Russell Cotters would like that.”

“Who?”

“Deputy Cotters.” He walked back and sat across from her. “You know, the officer that we found strangled to death in your hospital bathroom this morning.”

God no. They had her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“Drop the act, Vivian. We know you’re not Sarah Hoffman. You’re only going to dig yourself deeper.”

“He was dead when I woke up,” she said.

“Then how did you get out of the cuffs?” He paused, but what could she tell him? That a psychopath named Stromsky who worked for the Carmichael family had murdered that officer? What about the boys that Jarod had killed last night? They were going to pin this on her.

All of it.

“Tell you what,” Detective Torres said. “We’ll get back to that one. When was the last time you talked to your sister Tamara?”

Tammy, that bitch. She’d obviously called the police last night. And probably didn’t care that Vivian had almost died. Or that Cody had been taken.

“We haven’t spoken in years,” she said.

Torres leaned back in his chair. He drummed his fingers on the table. “If you insist on lying—”

“I haven’t seen her.”

“You just happened to be found unconscious a few blocks from her house this morning.”

“I was on my way there,” she said, “but I had an asthma attack.”

“I’ll be honest.” Torres ran his fingers through his hair and finished by scratching behind his ear. “The chief thinks you look good for all of these.” He reached into the folder and slapped down a crime scene photo of the dead cop from that morning.

She turned away.

“No, you look,” he said. “Look.”

One after the other. Jay-Jay on the garage floor. Phil in a pool of blood. Anthony’s torso. He placed one final picture down gently.

“Oh God.” She felt sick. The body was unrecognizable except for the heart tattoo on Tammy’s mangled leg. “Is that…”

“What we could find of her. Most of the damage was caused by a neighbor’s pit bull. The rest of the wounds appear to be inflicted by hooks of some kind.”

“I didn’t do it,” she blurted.

“You were at all these crime scenes.” He raised his voice.

The walls seemed to close in on her. She would never see her baby again.

“Please, you have to believe me,” she said. “I couldn’t do that.”

“Personally, I find it hard to believe that you overpowered a two hundred pound officer this morning, but you’d better start explaining.”

“I can’t say anything.”

Stromsky had made it clear. Any negative publicity for the Carmichaels would be a death sentence. But even if she stayed silent and went to jail, she wouldn’t be able to protect her baby from that family.

“I’m the last friend you have here,” Torres said. “But not for long. Any minute, my boss is going to come through that door. And there won’t be much I can do for you after that.”

“They’ll kill my baby.”

The door buzzed open. Erika stood outside in the hallway with two men on either side of her.

The one in the trench coat walked into the interrogation room. As soon as he looked up, Vivian’s heart raced. David Rankin. She’d never forget the birthmark on the left side of his forehead. Or the way his eyes used to swarm her body when Jarod wasn’t looking.

“Stop him,” she shouted. “He’s here to kill us.”

“What the hell is going on?” Torres stood and towered over the room.

“This interview is over,” Rankin said.

“Don’t let him take us.” She backed up against the far wall.

“Sit down.” Torres pointed at her. “Nobody’s going anywhere.”

It was now or never. If she didn’t trust somebody, Rankin would drive Erika and her to some deserted lot and shoot them.

“My husband murdered all those boys last night,” she said. “Jarod Carmichael killed them all.”

“Excuse me?” Torres asked.

“This witness has fled from federal protection,” Rankin said loudly. “I’ve got all the documents here. She’s due in court tomorrow.” He pulled out several papers and handed them over. “She’s not allowed to say any more.”

“We’ll see about this,” Torres said.

“Listen to him, Hector.” A jowl-faced man came into the interrogation room from the hallway. He motioned to the video camera. Rankin walked over and unhooked it.

“What are you doing here, Chief?” Torres asked. “It’s almost midnight.”

“The paper work checks out,” the chief said. From the way he avoided eye contact, she knew he was part of it. “This case falls under federal jurisdiction.”

They continued arguing, but their voices faded into background noise.


Your son is going to grow up without a mother.
’ Erika’s voice repeated in her head.

Vivian’s chest felt tight. She tried to take deep breaths but wheezed instead. At that moment, she could only think of Cody, poking at a pill bug and laughing to tears when it rolled into a ball. He was so tiny. Innocent. Her heart felt like it would tear from her chest. She collapsed to the floor.

“Call an ambulance.” Torres raced over to her. The minute he leaned over, she unbuttoned his holster strap and grabbed the gun. To her surprise, it pulled free. She held it to his chest.

“Everybody get in here.” She stood. At first, they looked stunned. Then they reached for their guns. “Do it now or I’ll kill him. I swear to God.”

“She means it,” Torres said.

“Put your guns on the table and get in the corner,” she told Rankin and the police chief. They both did it. She moved behind Torres’s tall body, held the gun to his lower back, and led him into the hallway.

“It’s not too late to stop this,” he said.

“Is this the part where you say that you can protect us?” Erika asked. Then she slammed the interrogation room door shut, locking Rankin and the police chief inside.

“I’m so sorry,” Vivian said. “Those were Jarod’s people. If you stay, they’ll kill you.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Erika said. She turned to Torres. “Is there a rear exit?”

He pointed. They walked quickly down the hallway, and then down a flight of stairs. As they opened the door at the bottom, Vivian expected a battalion of SWAT teams with laser scopes pointed at her chest. Instead, the parking lot was nearly deserted. Something didn’t feel right. That had been way too easy. Was it a trap? Even if it was, that only meant she needed to be careful. She had to get Cody back tonight.

“Give Erika your keys,” Vivian said to Torres. He reached into his front pocket and handed them over. She pushed the car alarm button. Across the parking lot, a Honda beeped.

“They’re going to assume that you murdered Deputy Cotters now,” Torres said. “They will shoot to kill.”


They
can get in line,” Vivian said, a little shocked at her own detachment. She pushed him over to the car with Erika leading the way.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“That’s why you’re coming with us.”

If they left him behind, he would run back and inform the police, and therefore Jarod’s men, which vehicle to track. Any extra seconds could mean the difference between life and death. Besides, with weapons possession, grand theft auto, kidnapping, and murder charges, one hostage wasn’t going change outcome.

“Get in,” she said to Torres. “You’re driving.”

BOOK: The Portal ~ Large Print
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