Captive Crawler, page 22
part #1 of Silent Predators Series
Swapping to a reverse grip, the casual killer pierced a grunt from rib to rib, making sure to puncture both lungs.
Grabbing one by the collar, he slid the head of the handle all around his upper chest cavity. As he did, he flicked the weapon on and off repeatedly and at random, filling the man with holes that could never heal.
The cruelty of his actions was matched only by it's elegance. Nothing would stop the officer from delivering his justice. Those who fled were skewered. The ones who fought back were punished all the same.
As the sick combination of a massacre and a waltz came to a decline, officer Elliot was the last one standing. Erected proud amongst the field of the dead, he wasn't the slightest out of breath. Worse yet, he wasn't the slightest rattled.
His work taken care of, one of the city's appointed peacekeepers headed for the doorway. His garments, as spotless as when he first arrived.
Kara wasn't sure when it started, but she only now became aware of it. Her whole body from her hands to her lower joints were trembling. The heavy gasps fumbling out of her mouth certainly weren't helping.
Right when the lone enforcer reached the hall, a dragging noise emerged from inside the room.
Petrified, Kara looked down from the small tear in the wall to see the source of the disturbance. What she saw didn't make her feel any better.
Down below, a crippled remnant of Otto's crew was clawing at the wall which held the rip the blonde planned to escape through. Unable to reach in his pained condition, he started peeling part of the wall off in a desperate attempt to escape.
Turning around, Elliot came back into the room to wrap up his duties. Moving at a stable pace, his objective was obvious.
With more and more of the wall being torn down, Kara's hiding spot was shrinking by the second. As such, the woman found herself panicking in an escalating degree.
Finally able to hoist himself up, the wounded man attempted pulling himself into the wall. As he did, the blonde watched the old support structures twist and wain at the unexpected burden. If things kept up as they were, the entire wall exterior was coming down, revealing her in the process.
She hadn't the ability to fall back, not anymore. Before, the arguing roomful covered up any of her loose movements. If she were to try it now, she would be found out as soon as her first step. By the same reasoning, attempting to duck away or hide away was equally risky. Worse yet, she was still affixed in her impeded position. So tightly compressed between the walls, she lacked the ability to turn. Her saber held in her right meant that her left was unguarded. The same side the expanding crevice exit laid.
Time wearing thin, she was forced to make a choice. The instant she did, she regretted it. Lifting one leg, she kicked the man's hand away from the inside.
With only one hand left hanging on, the impaired man fell back, landing once more into the storeroom. Rolling over onto his side, the last thing he saw was the tip of Elliot's saber. Reactivated with a single 'click', the laser protruded, melting through his brain.
Stepping over his correction, Elliot faced the hole, the attempted escape tunnel.
"Hiding in the walls, huh?" He asked aloud. "Inventive."
Stepping closer, he stuck his head in abruptly.
"Anyone else in here?" He voiced to himself.
Her nerves died that instant. The shakes subsided as her breath hitched. She swore that at that moment, even her heart had stopped beating. Still as a statue, the only active part of her was the terrified tear that trailed down her cheek.
Less than a foot in front of her, she stared at the back of Elliot's head. Scooping out the inner cavity of the section opposite her's, he pulled his head out without ever checking the other side.
Watching his step, the enforcer made his way out toward the hall. While doing so, he started humming a happy-go-lucky tune. His hollow footsteps vanishing from earshot, Kara was at last alone.
Not wanting to take any more chances, the blonde was done delaying. Crawling outside from the crawlspace, she quickly looked around the room. Storing her weapon in it's case, she looked around. Ignoring the more gruesome sights, she spotted a high up window in the corner that led to street level. Unbarred and unboarded, she ran right over.
Climbing a dusty shelf, the woman peered outside to see a row of enforcer vans. One of which was parked right in front of her escape route.
Undoing the latch, Kara slid the widow open. Crawling out and onto her stomach, she hid herself underneath the vehicle. Never had she thought she would miss the feeling of pavement against her skin.
When a pair of boots walked passed, the blonde slid out from the opposite end. Looking around, she was pleased to see many of the officers had moved inside the building, thinning the outside crowd a fair bit. Taking cover, she kept her wits about her as she moved from car to car in secret.
Making it to the last transportation vehicle, she found a troublesome lack of cover for the remainder of the street. Looking around, she kept an eye out for alternatives. Apart from spying dozens of armed men who would no doubt shoot her on sight, not much else jumped out at her.
Resetting her gaze, she noticed a manhole right beside her. Attempting to move it with her hands, she couldn't make the slightest budge. Swearing under her breath, she pulled out her saber. Steadying it by the spire, she dug the tip in and fiddled it about. With a bit of leverage, the metal was cracked open and uprooted from it's spot.
The most heinous odor she had ever experience was the first thing to greet her. The foul scent eliminating her temporary smile, she shook her head before opening it up in full. After all the other stenches that had accosted her this evening, this unpleasant scent, as awful as it may have been, was manageable.
Spotting a ladder, she hopped on in and started climbing down. Once fully inside, she went to shut the lid to conceal her tracks. Halfway however, an absolute darkness nearly overtook her. While not what she wanted, she begrudgingly had to leave it partially open for visibility's sake.
Descending down to the bottom, she found herself in a long stretching tunnel. Jumping off, she landed in a slush of nearly ankle deep sludge. The contents of which, she was trying very hard not to consider.
Barely any steps in, she was confronted with her next obstacle. A grate of mostly vertical bars sealed off the next partition of the sewer system.
Rattling the bars with frustration, she kicked it a few times to no anvil.
She could not turn back, forward was the only option. Yet here she was, trapped like it had become some sort of sick gag.
Looking down at her haywire saber, she started bashing the unlit spine against the iron bars.
It didn't matter how much noise she was making. It didn't matter how every hit was only worsening the condition of her treasured weapon. Even if nothing mattered, she had to press on.
With this mindset, she let her fury rule over her. Going wild, she refused to let up. Both hands held the handle like they were the key to deliverance. She struck the bars again and again and again and again.
At the moment before she gave up, the instant prior to losing hope, the weapon reignited. Donning a foolhardy grin, Kara slashed with all she could. A huge diagonal cut now lined the steel shafts.
When the malfunctioning weapon kicked out again, the blonde was no longer bothered by it. She had already gotten what she needed out of it.
Grabbing hold just below thecut, she pulled and pulled. Eventually, the metal bent enough out of the way for her purposes. Jamming herself in, she was able to pull herself through the other side without further problems.
Clearing the last hardship, Kara took off into a sprint. Running and splashing around in the dark, she hadn't any idea where she was, where she had been, or where she was heading. Yet none of this acted as any sort of impediment.
On the rare occasion, her saber would flicker on momentarily. When it did, it painted the walls with neon for only a second. It wasn't much, but it helped when it did. Beggars couldn't be choosers.
Finally, finally she founder another ladder. Scaling the framework faster than she had anything in her entire life, it was only natural she bumped her head on the underside of the manhole. Reaching up, she slid the lid off. Hurrying up and out, she crawled up onto the street.
She recognized the road right away. While annoying how far away it was from her home, there was no way that would be the deterrent that stopped her, not after tonight.
Scurrying off, she ran far and fast away from the direction of the dreaded apartments. The nightmare was finally over.
… … …
Making it up the stairs of her dwelling, Kara had stopped walking. Instead, her feet dragged her body forward.
Day had broke along the way of her long journey home. It was no bother. She was just glad to be there.
Unlocking her front door, she pulled herself inside the garbage-ridden room. Tossing her keys on the nightstand, she kicked the door close behind her.
She didn't have the energy to store her saber case under her bed like she usually did. Dropping it near the door she wandered over to the nightstand. Emptying out her pockets, the first thing she discovered was her hand radio.
Staring at the device she'd forgotten she owned until right then, the blonde wanted to scream. She wanted to swear and planned on doing so. The result however was a closemouthed groan that was far from the original intent. Running a hand through her hair, she planted the tool down on the bedside table.
Shaking her head, she decided to leave the rest for later. Taking off her coat, she threw it on the foot of her bed. Stepping over rubbish, she started undressing. Mostly everything was tossed onto the floor, mixing in with the topmost layer of garbage. Taking off her jeans, they were immediately placed in an overflowing trash receptacle. Making a mental note to burn them at a later date, she entered her bathroom.
Rubbing her face with both hands, she tripped into her bathroom.
Throwing on her shower, she stepped right on in. When a rush of ice water come into contact with her nude skin, the woman let out a hiss. Lazily, the temperature warmed at a slow pace.
Kara leaned up against the tile of the shower before she really started cleaning up. Barely paying attention, she let herself become drenched as she appreciated the simple feeling of hot water hitting against her body.
Proceeding a long breath, she looked down at her physique. Unsurprisingly, she met a colorful cavalcade of bumps and bruises all over. Poking a rather large gray blob of tissue by her ribs, she groaned and anguished over the decision right away.
Rubbing the sore area, she scooped up her half used bar of soap. Before making use of it, she let her feelings linger as they were at that moment. All the grime, blood, sweat, and everything else that had accumulated over the night came pouring off, seeping down her body as it disappeared down the drain.
Rubbing herself down the best she could, some stains left her, others did not. The session ending, she shut off the water and grabbed an already hung up towel off the wall.
Exiting the shower, the woman dried herself off for the most part. Done with one task, about to start another, Kara stared back at her reflection in the cracked mirror.
Opening up the compartment behind it, she started rummaging through her cluttered medicine cabinet. Sorting through untouched and half empty products alike, she eventually found a small tube. Unscrewing the cap, she squeezed out some ointment onto her finger. Subsequently, she rubbed it in to the tiny blemish tucked away in her widow's peak. Such a minor injury was the least of her worries after tonight, but it was best to take care of it either way. He did tell her to.
Leaving the bathroom, she threw on the bare minimum amount of sleepwear she could find on the way to her bed.
Rubbing her eyes, she fell face first into her mattress. At the moment she hit the comforter, she almost thought she heard a door knock. Chocking it up as her imagination, she let her body's natural need for sleep overtake her. Convincing herself she didn't hear the following knock either, Kara buried her face deeper into the pillow.
"Five more minutes." She muttered selfishly, dozing off right away.
Chapter 7: The Leader's Folly
Chapter 7: The Leader's Folly
Benson sat in a small chair in front of the warehouse renter's desk. Both of his legs were spread wider than usual. Sinking into his seat, his body had made itself comfortable. A furrowed brow sat fixed in place. His face had long since grown taxed from his situation.
Pacing back and forth behind him, Viktor walked the perimeter of his office. He was clenching his hands every few seconds, muttering to himself while he did. He seemed as though he was constantly pulling his fist in toward his chest, as if he would let a punch fly if given enough of an excuse.
His footsteps were anything but light. Stomps had usurped his natural steps. His aggravated motions shook the tiny suspended room. The metal bearings that held it in place creaked as he traversed from one end to the other.
"Viktor," Benson tentatively spoke up, tapping a clip board in his lap as he did. "When you're ready, we need to discuss—"
"I'll kill him." Viktor threatened between clenched teeth. "When I find that dealer I'm gonna hang him off the side of the city; break every one of his teeth." The fuming man decreed amidst his growing tirade.
"We're broke." Benson announced dryly and without flair.
The words stopped the stubborn man in his tracks. Turning around, he gave his seated cohort his full attention.
"What?" Viktor asked gruffly.
"You're spending without income. What did you expect to happen?" The other reported flatly.
"No." Viktor replied, rejecting the other's assessment.
Shaking his head, the obstinate ex-mobster marched behind his desk. Pulling up a duffel bag from down below, he threw it up on top of his workspace, scattering whatever laid underneath. Unzipping it down the center, he exposed it's contents between the two of them. The stolen satchel had grown bare. While once stuffed to the seams, all that remained were a handful of rolled together bills. A drop in the bucket of what once was.
Viktor fell into his chair. Each of it's joints and bearing creaking loudly as they braced and adjusted to his abrupt weight. Cupping a hand over his mouth, he clamped his finger around his chin. His eyes remained fixated on the emptied bag, as if staring long enough would replenish it's former contents.
"There was more," The gangster brought up, shooting a glare at the man across from him. "before you showed up." He bitterly accused outright.
"Well, you did put me in charge of payroll." Benson stated calmly, unfazed by his employer's stare down. "The funny thing about money is when you give it all away to other people, you tend to have less." He retorted without a crack in his no-nonsense expression.
"How did this happen?" Viktor asked with a deep and stressed exhale.
"Expected expenses. This place isn't cheap." The bookkeeper explained, offering to handover his clipboard. "Not to mention the cost of patrols for all the guys we've got left looking out for that merchant who left the standing impression on you the other day."
"You're paying them?" Viktor questioned in ire. "They haven't found him yet."
"Yeah, that's right." Benson agreed with a partial nod. "But, they're not doin' anything else. We have to remind them we've got funds to spare for when we actually need them for something other than a manhunt." The man explained being clear and concise. "We don't, by the way." He added, cheaply.
"We'll have to let them go." Viktor begrudgingly conceded. "Dammit. Right when things just starting to move."
Standing up, Benson removed a clean envelop out of his back pocket. Extending his arm forward, he offered it over.
"What's that?" Viktor asked, plucking it out of the other's hand.
"Read it." Benson advised, remaining on his feet as he did.
Ripping one end off, Viktor hit the other side until a neatly folded letter peaked out. Pulling the paper out, he unfolded it in his hands and started reading it's contents silently to himself.
"This is from Varon Gorge." Viktor informed as his now wide eyes ran left to right on repeat. "He wants to meet up. Face to face."
"Gorge? The inventor turned business man?" Benson questioned, his face scrunching up while he did. Leaning over the desk, he read over the header himself in disbelief. "What's a big shot like him want with someone like you?"
"Doesn't matter." Viktor renounced curtly. "This is perfect."
Rising up, he hurried over to his coat hung up on the side. Riling though his pockets, he eventually pulled out Ceaser's handgun. Playing with the safety, he checked the magazine for ammo before making sure everything else was in working order.
