He closed his eyes trying to keep his calm. He couldn't stop thinking about finding Nate that night. Covered in blood. All of that blood. It still haunted him. What if they found Lonnie like that? What if Natalie found him? He shook his head again, partly to clear the vision from his brain before he ended up on the floor in the fetus position, but mostly so that Natalie wouldn't do something she'd regret the rest of her life. "No, Nat. Go straight home. Or to the station. I mean it. If there's nothing here, I'll walk back. I could use the exercise."
"It's nearly ten miles. Twenty to the house."
"Stop arguing and go call the fucking cavalry, Nat," he said harsher than he meant to.
She nodded and unbuckled, sliding toward him, she kissed his cheek without another word. Quinn caught the flash of fear in her eyes and nodded. He stepped out of the car into the silent, humid air and waited for her to do a three-point turn before he crossed over. He waited until the tail lights were long gone, alone in the dark, not even the sound of a cricket to keep him company.
* * * * *
He thought he heard gunfire. The room was dark now. The room was still cold as fuck but he didn't hear the compressor anymore. And the little bit of light that kept him from panicking had gone out. At least now he knew he was fucking terrified instead of simply freezing to death.
"Hey, Lonnie, you with me, man?" Lonnie didn't answer. "Motherfucker, you better not be dead. You better be passed out or something. Because Natalie will fucking have my balls if you're dead."
Another gun shot. Jesus, where the hell was Nathan? "Please, please, please." He didn't realize he was begging until the sound of his voice echoed back to him from the cooler walls, scaring the shit out of him. He didn't know who he was begging or what about. There was so much to beg for.
The twine that bound his wrists was tough. He couldn't stretch the shit. It was thin, smooth, with no elasticity and tied so tight he could barely feel his hands. "What did that fucker say? Something about hog-tying me?" Jesus, if that was piggin string he'd never get out of it. Shit held struggling hogs. He was going to die here. Slaughtered. Just like some pig. Wonder why they hadn't dumped the two bodies? Where the hell had the second one come from? There was only one missing person report besides Lonnie. No one had reported Lonnie missing.
No one knew where to find him.
Where the fuck was Nathan?
Something …
What was that?
A noise?
Not a gunshot.
Not the compressor.
Not Bubba Dawg coming back.
Bubba Dawg, who could carry a full-grown man over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. And could tie people up … Did he really drink the blood of his victims? Or was that something they told Lonnie while the woman … raped him … like Nathan.
The door handle jiggled.
Could have been anything.
He didn't want to be tied to that slab … like at the morgue … This was a goddamned morgue.
Why hadn't he seen that when the lights were still on? Bodies … all around him …
"DREW!"
"What?" He screamed, terror clawing at him. He was burning to death. He could smell his own flesh sizzling on his bones.
"Jesus, Drew, snap the fuck out of it!" The voice of a goddamned angel shouted at him. A sharp burning pain burst over his cheek, the sound of flesh being struck echoed in the cold room.
"Did you just slap me?" He rubbed his face. He couldn't focus.
"I did … Don't make me drag your ass out of here, Drew."
He knew that voice. It was music to his ears.
"You're no goddamned angel," he said over the rushing of blood in his ears.
"Never said I was. Why does everyone think I'm a fucking angel? Makes no goddamned sense. It's like you don't even know me, you know."
Quinn slowly emerged from the red haze that filled his vision. "You're a fucking beautiful sight for sore eyes. I'd kiss you … but I might throw up in your mouth."
"That's an attractive image," Quinn replied, huffing as he pulled Drew off the floor. When the hell had he laid on the filthy blood-soaked … Oh, God. He really was going to throw up. "Be still so I can cut you free. And don't twitch so much. I don't want to cut you by mistake."
The cold touch of a blade grazed his arm. He squeezed his eyes closed, fighting memories and the last dregs of the terror that had gripped him when the power went out. "Lonnie is on the table," he said, holding as still as he could while Quinn sawed at the ropes. "I think he might be … "