Page 46 of Fight
“Shit, I was meant to fill you in; I completely forgot,” Rome curses and then continues quickly as the car slowly approaches the gate. “We tried to access the old cameras like we had planned to do before we came, but they were all offline. Somehow Rip’s mom knew they existed and damaged or broke them all so that they couldn’t be used. We’re going in completely blind.”
“Well fuck,” I reply, “I’d forgotten about them, but it sure as hell would’ve been handy to know what was going on in there, especially since someone is clearly still here and burning shit. Something tells me that they aren’t just having a bonfire for shits and giggles.”
“No, I doubt they are,” Rome replies as he pulls up outside the gates, “weapons drawn, we don’t split up, and we’re heading for the incinerator first.”
“Got it, boss,” Rip replies as we all get out of the car, keeping our eyes on the surrounding forest.
It’s eerily quiet. I can’t even hear any animals moving about, and the wind is still. I hope that’s not a sign, and we’re not about to walk into a cluster fuck of a situation.
“Which way to the incinerator?” Ace asks quietly, his weapon up ready to shoot, just like ours.
“This way,” Rip replies, and we follow him to the right, coming out in a clearing in the woods that has one lone building in the center of it and thick black smoke billowing out from the top of it.
“Oh wow,” I mutter and then fall silent as we head toward the double doors.
Each door has a small window which Rip and Rome use to look inside.
Rome’s face is grim as he pulls back and whispers, “One man facing the incinerator, one body of a woman on the floor, she’s very much dead.”
“Let’s see if we can get him to talk and come peacefully,” Ace suggests.
Rome nods in agreement and then counts down before kicking open the doors, and we rush in, spreading out around the room, our weapons all aimed at the man who didn’t even flinch when we crashed through the doors.
“Turn around slowly,” Rip demands, “and tell us exactly what is going on here.”
The man stays still; he doesn’t even flinch at the sound of Rip’s voice. I’m beginning to think that there is something very wrong, but before any of us can do anything, he tilts his head, his only movement, although he stays staring at the fire.
His voice has a haunting lilt to it as he speaks, and I can honestly say that it’s freaky as hell, “They should have helped her, helped Isabella. I tried, but they didn’t; they hid, that’s why they had to die.”
Rip’s eyebrows rise as we all share a concerned look, and he asks quietly, “Who had to die?”
“Them,” he replies, his hand gesturing to the woman on the floor.
The woman who now I can see better has been dead for at least a few days, she was shot, and half her face is missing. It’s a damn gruesome sight and not something that I’m going to forget anytime soon. Unfortunately, it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen, which at least means I’m able to keep my food down. Because I’m studying the man so closely, waiting for him to make any wrong move, I notice that there’s blood dripping from his hand and splashing onto the floor. He’s injured but clearly unhinged.
“Where are the other staff members?” Rip asks, again keeping his voice calm and even, not wanting to spook this guy even more.
Still eerily calm and subdued, with no sign of any emotion in his voice at all, he points to the incinerator and says, “In there.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, I counted. I made sure that I got all of the unloyal assholes that could have prevented her death, that could have saved her. It took me days to hunt them, but I got them all. They’re all dead, all eleven of them. Dead, Dead, Dead, not breathing, and gone.” He practically sings the last line.
Oh yeah, this guy is completely un-fucking-hinged and extremely dangerous because of it.
“Why don’t you turn around, and we can get this whole thing sorted out,” Rip suggests.
“They’re dead. I killed them, hunted them like animals, and listened to them scream, and now I’m burning them like they’ll burn in hell for abandoning her when she needed them most. One more, I have to burn one more, and then I’m done.” He rambles, not responding to Rip at all, and I’m starting to wonder whether he’s forgotten that we’re here.
“We can’t let you do anything, not right now. You need to turn around slowly,” Rip replies, a bit firmer this time.
The guy tenses, and I instantly know that shit is about to hit the fucking fan, I prepare to take the shot just as he moves, faster than I would’ve thought possible, as he spins to face us, lifting a gun that he got from who knows fucking where all I see is crazy eyes and a blood splattered face before we shoot, his gun goes off as he falls to the floor, the bullet embedding in the ceiling, as blood pools around the very dead man on the floor.
“Well, that has to be one of the most disturbing encounters that I’ve had for a while,” Ace comments as he puts his gun back in his holster.
“Definitely, the guy was a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket,” Mason replies, his analogy making me smile.
“What now?” Mal asks, wrinkling his nose as his eyes land on the woman, who's been dead for a while.