Unleashed (9 page)

This gesture infuriated him, turned his insides hot, made him want to devour her flesh until he could crush her bones between his powerful jaws. They ached just thinking about it.

Gage dropped to his belly and reached down to where her hand was struggling to maintain its grip. He clamped down on her wrist and easily pulled her up to where his face met hers, her legs dangling in the air beneath her.

"You're praying to the wrong master,” he said. "I’m the only one you should worship.”

He rolled onto his back, pulling her into a tight embrace, much like a snake does after striking its prey. Claire ended up on top of him. His tongue flickered and tasted her warm cheek. She tried to fight back, screaming “No” and “Stop,” but this only made him constrict tighter, forcing the air from her lungs.

He was about to enact all of his fantasies when Albert broke free from his subconscious prison. And he came out fighting. Pain seared Gage’s brain and he released Claire to claw at his face. He rolled back and forth, screaming and writhing in the dirt like a worm cut in half.

He was vaguely aware that Claire was getting to her feet. He tried to stop her, but a sudden and sharp pain traveled the length of his arm. It was as if Albert was jabbing a needle into his central nervous system. He cried out again. Not so much from the pain this time, but from frustration. Claire was getting away.

ELEVEN

Breathe.

One foot in front of the other.

Concentrate.

Not much further.

Run fast. And breathe.

Claire glanced behind her. Nothing was there and yet everything was. Fear and terror left a blackened mark, staining the ground passing beneath her feet. An obvious trail for any predator to follow.

She ran harder, focusing on the sounds of her footsteps against the pavement. The fog seemed to have grown thicker and it pressed against her, smothering her with its musty smell of sweat and tears.

Just keep moving.

Breathe.

Make it to the stop sign, she told herself. It wasn’t that far, maybe a hundred yards. Claire stared at the big red sign, burning a hole into it with her eyes. The four white letters stared back, cold and oblivious. She didn't see the word, only the individual letters. The word meant nothing to her, held no power. She ran past it, ignoring its warning.

She ran by closed souvenir shops, sprinted by the grocery store, ignored a honking car, until finally she saw the police station, shining brightly. She had never seen anything so beautiful, so safe.

Please be there, Claire prayed again for the second time that night.

She burst through glass doors and kept running. Down a hall. Past surprised faces. Through startled voices. Smith’s office door was open. He saw her coming toward him and stood up behind his desk. The moment his steady grey eyes met hers, her body slowed and legs dragged. She stumbled to him until his arms came around her.

She was safe.

Smith waited for her tears to subside, waving away those who had followed her into his office, before he finally pulled away and said, "Tell me what happened."

Claire looked up. His expression was stone, a sharp boulder with jagged lines, waiting to roll down a mountain to crush her enemies. But the fire in his eyes also burned warm and full of compassion.

She opened her mouth to speak, but realized her voice had been left behind. She closed her eyes, waiting for it to catch up.

"Sit down," Smith said. He took hold of her shoulders and guided her to an old cornmeal-colored couch against a gray wall. She sank into the mushy color; the only thing keeping her from sinking to the bottom was Smith's hand over hers.

"Start from the beginning," he encouraged. "What happened?" The sharp lines of his face softened and he no longer looked like a jagged stone, but more of a river rock, smooth and steady.

Claire took a deep breath. Held it. And slowly let it out. Her phone buzzed just then from within her pocket, but she ignored the caller and said, "I was at the beach. Waiting for—”

"Claire!" Logan burst into the room, eyes frantic.

Before Claire or Smith could react, Logan was kneeling at her feet. "What happened?"

"How did you know she was here?" Smith asked.

Logan looked at Smith as if he was a fly buzzing in his ear. "I saw her running away from the beach and could tell something was wrong. I followed her here. Or tried to anyway. She was running so fast." He looked back at Claire, searching her face. "Who did this to you?"

Claire didn’t know what he was talking about.  Was something wrong with her? Did a part of Gage’s evil somehow break off and attach itself to her?

"Your lip. It's bleeding," Logan said.

“Oh,” Claire said. She reached up and touched it, taking his word for it, even though she felt nothing. Her body was numb.

Smith stood up. "Listen, Logan. Claire was just about to tell me what happened. Why don't you go wait outside, and then you can see her when we're finished. I’ll also want to ask you some questions, too. See if you saw anything."

Nodding, Logan stood up and, after noticing his shirt was unbuttoned, began to button it up, his face reddening.

Claire frowned at his odd behavior, but then shook her head. "Can Logan stay?" Logan was familiar, like her comforter at home.

Smith sat back down. "Fine, but don't interrupt and let me ask the questions."

Logan pulled up a chair to sit across from Claire. He reached to take her hand, but stopped. "It's okay. Tell us what happened."

Smith glared at him. "My job, remember?"

Logan mouthed the word, "Sorry.”

Smith turned to her. "So you were at the beach. Who were you waiting for?"

"Ethan." Her eyes flashed to Logan's, but he showed no other emotion than concern.

"Did he show up?" Smith asked.

"No. Or maybe he was just late. I'd only been waiting maybe ten minutes."

"Then what happened?" Smith encouraged.

Claire squished her lips together hard enough to feel the cut on her lip. The pain focused her. "A boy snuck up behind me," she said.

"What boy?" Smith asked.

Claire shook her head. "He said his name was Gage."

"Any last name?"

"He said 'Anderson', but I could tell he made it up."

Smith squinted his eyes, like he was mentally taking notes in his head, before he asked, "What did he look like?"

Claire saw him clearly in her mind, his darkness, his power, but when she tried to describe him, she couldn't. "There was something wrong with him."

"Like a disfigurement?"

"No. But he was deformed somewhere, but I can't say how exactly. He was disgusting."

"Could you be a little more specific? The color of his hair maybe?" Smith asked.

"Dark. I think. His whole face was dark. It was like the color was dripping from him."

Smith rubbed his thick jaw line. "What did he say to you?"

"He knew me," Claire said. The words brought back the memory of his touch. She closed her eyes. "He said my name. Said he knew I didn't have a boyfriend. And that I'd found that dead girl."

This made Smith sit up. His boulder-face returned. "What happened next?"

Claire breathed in. "He grabbed me." Logan tensed, but she continued. "He wanted me to scream. I kneed him in the groin and ran. I raced up the hill on the trail at the top of the cliffs, thinking I’d get away quicker, but then all of a sudden he appeared in front of me. Of all the things, this scared me the most. I couldn't figure out how he'd gotten to me so fast." She began to shake. Logan moved to the couch next to her. He didn’t put his arm around her, but his shoulder touched hers. It was enough. "Then he started talking again, and all I wanted to do was get away. So when he tried to grab me again, I stepped off the cliff."

"You did what?" Logan said, alarmed.

"Quiet," Smith said. "Then what happened."

Claire looked at Logan with pleading eyes. "I thought he was going to kill me so I figured if I went off the cliff, I might have a chance at catching myself on the rocks. And that's exactly what happened. But I wasn’t low enough. He reached down, and with this insane strength, he took hold of my wrist and lifted me with one hand until I was on top of him. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed until I thought my chest would collapse." She took a deep breath and wiped at the tears stinging her eyes.

"Then what?" Smith asked.

Claire thought back. "I don't know. All of a sudden he acted like he was in pain and he grabbed his head, letting me go."

Smith paused. "Did he say anything?"

"No, but he was clawing at his face like something was burning him." She frowned, remembering how strange he had acted. "Actually, when he grabbed me the first time, he had the same reaction, like something was hurting him. That time he yelled 'She's not yours'. It was as if someone else was there, but there wasn’t anyone that I could see."

Smith didn't answer. He looked like he was mentally taking notes again, looking just above her head.

"Sounds like the guy is crazy," Logan said.

"Once I got away,” Claire continued, “I just ran straight here."

Smith stood up and walked behind his desk. He opened a file on his desk and removed a DVD. "I want to show you something, Claire."

"What is it?"

"It's the security footage of the gas station robbery the other day." Smith went to a TV in the corner of the room and pushed the DVD into a built-in player. "There's a part that may be a bit graphic, and for that I apologize, but I really want you to see this."

She stood up, rubbing her hands together. They were so cold. "Why?"

Smith turned to her. "Because from your description, I think the man you met, Gage, is the same guy who robbed the gas station and who was with Mindy just before she died. I want to know if I’m right."

Logan asked, “How do you know he was with Mindy?”

“The same marks were found at both crime scenes,” he hesitated and looked at Claire. “I mean fingerprints.”

Claire lowered her head. "There's something I need to tell you, Smith, and I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner."

"About what?"

"Remember the money I found on my doorstep? Well, it was exactly $800."

Smith's eyebrows rose. "That's how much was stolen."

"I was afraid of that. I'll give the money back, I promise."

Smith was shaking his head. "But the money's already been returned, Claire. The next day a backpack appeared with a bunch of money in it and a note saying it belonged to the robbery. It was different bills than what was stolen, but the amounts were the same."

"But what about the money given to me?” Claire began to panic. She didn’t want anything Gage had touched. “I don't want it!"

Smith rubbed the back of his neck, and for the first time Claire noticed dark circles under his eyes. "Go ahead and bring it in for now,” he said. “We can keep it as evidence for when we catch this guy. Do you still have the note?"

Claire nodded.

"Good. Bring it to me when you can. Now back to this security tape.” Smith turned his attention to the television. “I want you to tell me if this is the guy you saw tonight." Smith pressed play.

The video showed the back of a man, black hair, back slightly hunched over. His hands were on the counter and he was saying something to a female clerk. Claire couldn't hear what, but by the woman's expression, Claire knew she was feeling exactly what she had felt not less than an hour ago. The lady’s terror-stricken face looked as if she were in the presence of Satan himself.

Just then the man turned around. When she saw his face, Claire stumbled backwards. Logan caught her and steadied her with his hands. The warmth of them against her bare arms was strangely comforting, and she didn’t move away.

"Is this Gage?" Smith asked, pausing the TV on Gage’s face.

Claire looked away. "That's him," she said, her voice quiet.

Smith walked by her and out into the hallway. "Give me a minute.”

Logan turned her around. "I'm so sorry,” he said, looking pale. “I should've been there for you."

This seemed to wake Claire up. She stepped back. "How could you've known? I'm just glad everything turned out okay. I hope Smith can catch him."

"Me too.” Logan shook his head. “So how come Ethan never showed up? Maybe if he'd been there this guy would’ve left you alone." Claire heard a hint of resentment in his voice.

"I don't know, but you can't blame him." She pulled out her cell phone from her pocket. "I probably should call him in case he showed up late. I wouldn’t want him running into Gage."

Logan snatched her phone. "Let me talk to him. There's something I want to say."

"Logan!" Claire called after him, but he was already walking out the door and wouldn't stop.

Smith returned just then. "I've sent a couple of my men to the beach to look for this guy. If he's still there, we'll find him." He came next to her. "You're really lucky, you know that?"

Her lips tightened, as did the rest of her body. "Maybe."             

"We'll catch him, Claire. Don't worry."

"What if you don't?"

He took hold of her shoulders. "We will, but in the meantime, I'll have officers patrol your house regularly, and I want you to keep it locked, understand?"

She nodded.

"And don't go anywhere unnecessary. I’ll call your mom, too, so she knows what’s going on.”

Claire glanced at a clock above the door. "She won't be home until midnight."

"Do you want a ride home?"

"Maybe. Let me check with Logan first."

Smith returned to his desk and sat down. "I'm glad Logan's watching out for you. He's a good guy, you know?"