"Nathan knows where you are, he'll be back," Drew said. He wondered if he was the damsel in this story and laughed. His knight in tarnished armor. Maybe. If he was Quinn Anders.
But it was Quinn who had gone for Nathan. Drew had never seen anyone so brave … and so stupid.
"I think the missus has a bone to pick with that fella. She can be a tad bit … vicious when she's pissed. I think that big fella might be the reason she's always pissed. I'd hate to be him." Bubba Dawg laughed as he kicked Drew's legs. Drew pulled up his knees and kicked back, missing his captor. Bubba Dawg laughed again. The sound echoing through the cold room until a door closed and then he was trapped and freezing, leaning against something cold and slimy.
He struggled into a sitting position to get a look at what he was on, his head reeling at the abrupt movements.
"Oh, shit!" The thing was...had a head … and oh, shit, oh, shit! He scrambled back against the wall in horror.
Body. No … bodies. There were two of them in the pile he'd been dumped onto. Their faces bloated with death, with eyes wide open and staring in horror. Their fingerless hands arranged on their naked thighs almost as if they'd been praying. A third one leaned forward, head hanging low so that all Drew could see were the still-raw wounds on his bare back. Deep jagged tears in the flesh spelling out nonsense words.
Looking away, Drew rolled onto his hip and tried to shut out the years-old image of another man with deep gaping wounds, his wounds still fresh and pouring blood. Drew couldn't fight the bile and the dizziness anymore. He spewed his guts on the concrete floor.
Three years later and it was almost like it was yesterday. The cold leached inside his shirt making him shiver. The smell of vomit and sex and blood all combining in his head to take him back to his nightmares.
He was right back there.
Nathan dying and Quinn falling apart.
He couldn't do this again.
He loved them too much to let them go through this again.
He heard a moan, not his own.
"Someone,,," The moan was followed by a voice. "Where am I? Is someone there?"
Drew rolled back into a sitting position and spun around on the filthy floor. "Who's here?" he asked, hoping like hell one of those meat sacks with the dead eyes hadn't started talking to him.
"Lonnie … Ortiz. I can't see anything … where am I?"
"Jesus, Lonnie," Drew whispered. He'd forgotten all about the foreman. "Agent Walker. Nathan and I were looking for you. Glad to see you. You have no idea." He finally found the man. He had to look up.
Lonnie was alive. But he wasn't safe. Drew closed his eyes, praying to a god he'd given up on. God, he hoped it hadn't gone past the first 'fun' stage, for everyone's sake. Lonnie was naked, blindfolded, and strapped to a stainless-steel butcher's table. After that, Drew couldn't see a damned thing.
"Nathan?" Lonnie said the name with relief tinged with fear. "Don't tell Natalie. Oh, God, please don't tell Natalie. I couldn't stop her. I couldn't. I just wanted to buy some milk, and they didn't have any ice cream in the cooler. She told me she had a fresh delivery in the back … I couldn't help myself … I … should never have come here."
"Are you hurt?" Drew asked, trying to keep the shiver out of his voice. It wasn't that cold in the room. Like a refrigerator. Cool enough to keep meat fresh, but not cool enough to keep days-old bodies from decaying.
Lonnie didn't answer, not right away. Drew could hear the man struggling not to break down. "I … don't know. She … I can't feel my arms. I didn't want to … sex … I didn't want this. She made me want it. I can't feel my legs. I can't see anything. She's not alone. He's the one … he likes … he drinks their blood. She said he likes … he does it naked. When he's done licking the doodles he cuts into them … he cuts off the fingers and sucks … Why would someone do shit like that? Why would she help him?"
"I don't know, Lonnie," Drew said. He could smell barbecue pork. He gagged. It wasn't real. Just a memory. "Something twisted in the water around here."
Lonnie choked out a laugh that became a sob. "I don't want to die like this."
"I'm not going to let you die," Drew said, meaning every word. Nathan was out there. And Quinn.
"You're the one who found Nathan, aren't you? I remember that. You broke Nat's heart," Lonnie said, he sounded stronger.
"I didn't mean to," Drew replied. He backed up to the wall. He needed to lean against something to gather his wits. His head spun. The barbecue smell was getting stronger. "We'll get out of here. I swear."