The water was arctic, but Sam wasn't sure whether it was that or the fact that she'd snorted a lot of the bucket they'd just thrown in her face. Coughing and sputtering, she rolled onto her side. Her hands clutched her aching head. Before she had more than a few seconds to orient herself and figure out what was going on, someone's boot connected with her side.
She screamed, rolling away and struggling to get to her knees. The room spun. Everything was distorted, like she was looking through an empty wine bottle. And she hadn't even had the pleasure of drinking it. A large mass was moving toward her. She flipped onto her butt and scooted backward. Something hard stopped her from moving too far. As her vision started to clear, a large flat face came into focus, almost nose to nose with her.
"Interesting. What do we have here?"
Her tongue felt thick and cottony, but she croaked out, "Who the hell are you?" If she'd been able to muster enough spit, she'd have spat in his face. Maybe this is a nightmare. Praying that it was, she closed her eyes for a second and let her head drop forward. The next instant, her head snapped backward, hard, into the solid structure behind her, the man's fingers pinching her chin, something sharp pressed against her throat.
"You've caused me nothing but headaches. You're a royal pain in my ass."
Fear was choking her as her mind flipped into high gear. What the hell had she done to deserve this? How was she going to get out of this? And who was this nutcase? As many thoughts passed through her mind, she tried to make sense of something and to pull herself back to the situation, to find some way of getting out of it. She was not ready to die, but it was looking like she might have run out of luck.
The man's lips were still moving, so she assumed he was still talking but she couldn't hear what he was saying. It was as he yanked his hand back that she got a good look at him. Or at least part of him. Her eyes widened in recognition. He pulled her to her feet.
"It's starting to sink in." The sound that came out of his mouth was the coldest, hardest, ugliest sound she'd ever heard. She wasn't sure if it was meant to be his laugh but whatever it was, it sent chills through her body with sonic precision.
"Steele. How are you making out with her friend?"
He stepped back and to the side, giving Sam a good view of the rest of the room. It was a large area; the outside walls were steel with the interior walls being drywall. Instantly, she knew she was in the Quonset. There didn't seem to be many options for escape. Two men stood by the door with another man standing across the room. As the man stepped to the side, Sam barely bit back a gasp as she saw a man tied to a chair. His face looked like it had been fed through a meat grinder.
Blood ran down over the beaten man's lips and dripped off his chin. From the bright red color of his shirt and the dark stain on his jeans, she'd have guessed he'd taken quite a beating. She bit hard on her lip to prevent herself from giving in to the urge to scream. She couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes. It was one thing for her to die; it was another to have dragged someone else into it. Her head snapped back as her hair was viciously grabbed. She glared at the man who had her at his mercy.
"Don't enjoy seeing lover boy hurt? If you want to keep him from getting any more of a beating, you'll tell me now what you know. And who you've told."
Sam glanced at the man sitting motionless in the chair. His arms were tied behind him, his legs tied to the chair. Keegan? Oh, no. What have I done?
She was thrown forward, landing hard on her knees. The guy's meaty hand grabbed the back of her neck. If she had to die, she was okay with that. But Keegan didn't deserve to.
"Can I have a glass of water and I'll tell you what I know." She rasped out, embellishing her dry mouth. Her voice was so deep and throaty; she didn't even recognize it.
That she saw the fist coming saved her from at least one punch. She fell backward, narrowly being missed. The boot that followed though was too fast and unavoidable. She grunted in pain as she rolled away and flipped onto her butt.
"I know that there is something happening at the lake. I don't know what. But something. Something bad. I've never considered myself—"
This time, the punch connected, sending her sprawling backward. The next thing she became aware of was being lifted by her neck and dangled in the air. That and the intense pain of being beaten up and being choked. Air was rasping through her airways like a veteran with emphysema.
"You ready to talk?"
She didn't hear anything come out of her mouth, but he seemed to be satisfied with her response. He dropped her. She landed with a jolt, sprawling on the hard cement floor, gasping for breath. She flipped over onto her butt and scooted back, her mouth going before she even knew what she was going to say. "I know that this lake is called GOOM Lake; it's the last name of all the original owners. I'm sure you'd have liked to have been one of them but aren't, but you're related or something. You want revenge or maybe you're just filled with hate. I don't know. I know there isn't much information on you, anywhere. I'm sure that anyone who would talk about you isn't able to." The whole time she was babbling, she was trying to determine who was in the room, if there were any weapons she could grab, and what were her chances of getting out alive.
One man she was sure had been in the room earlier seemed to be missing. Now there were two men. Two men with big long guns that she was sure would rip her and Keegan to pieces if given the chance. And then there was the man called Mr. Ozz, whom she knew by a whole different name but hadn't recognized until he'd struck her. The impact of that was too great for her to even contemplate at that moment. She needed to get free so that others would know who the monster was that was killing people. Her gaze landed on him. He was standing about four feet away. Too far to kick. Keegan was still slouched forward. The sight of him almost made her whimper. She was about to look away when she saw the slightest movement of his eyelid. Trying to be nonchalant, she continued her perusal of the room but kept him in her peripheral vision. There was no more movement from him.
"You had her killed, didn't you?" The words startled her as much as they did the man she was accusing.
He grinned. "Smart, aren't you?"
"She was a gentle old woman. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"And she’d be alive if she'd stayed away from her cabin."
"You sick bastard. Mrs. MacNeil was ninety and never hurt a soul."
"I knew there was a reason I didn't like you. You do not understand what's going on here, do you? This is my place. My land. I'm not the original owner but my grandfather was. He left me this land but I'm the one that put it to use. Soon I will own this entire valley and then my operation will expand, to grow, to be the best. And we're in the middle of nowhere, so who will ever suspect."
"You're dealing in drugs?"
"That's one part of my business. You almost ruined it with your prying."
"It wasn't the stories I wrote that was the issue, it was that I would draw attention to the lake. This area. You didn't want anyone out here asking questions."
"You're very bright but not very smart. Okay, enough."
"Are you going to be the one to tell my mom you killed me?" The mark hit, he pulled back, but when he looked at her his eyes looked like black pools of death. If there had been a shadow of light there, it was now gone. The man she was looking at had no soul.
"Don't worry, this will play nicely into my plans." He turned to his men. "Do away with both of them. Where's Steele?"
The two men shrugged. One moved to cut the ties on Keegan, the other grabbed Sam by her arm, jerking her to her feet. Ozz did little more than nod as he left the room. His departure was enough to distract the guy holding her. Sam took that opportunity to use the one move she remembered from her self-defence class her mom had signed her up for. Since the arm she would have liked to use to drive into the guy's stomach was held in a vice grip, she swung around and drove her elbow into his back, right at the base of his ribcage. He grunted in pain, jerking backward, his hand loosening enough that she could yank free. She kicked with all her might into the side of his knee. He dropped to the ground. This time, she swung so that her foot connected with his head. Down he went. The other guy who'd been busy freeing Keegan, to drag him outside, spun around and was lifting his rifle toward her. She gulped in what she hoped wouldn't be her last breath. Her eyes wide, she looked for the closest place she could dive behind.
Where he found the strength she didn't know, but Keegan came to life enough to lash out, catching the guy off guard, sending him flying. Sam ran to Keegan.
"Stop."
Her hands automatically flew up in the air as she skidded to a halt a few feet from Keegan. She turned slowly. The first man she'd knocked down was getting to his feet. His gun pointed at her chest.
Suddenly, there was the sound of gunfire, yelling and screaming erupted, coming from the warehouse. Sam did what came naturally. She dove for Keegan, taking him to the floor. The two men didn't even look at them as they ran from the room.
"Keegan, we have to go. Now. Please get up."
He didn't react or move. She shook him hard but got little more than a grunt in return. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him across the room to the door. Once there, she peeked out. There was absolute chaos. Bullets were flying, debris filled the air, men were bleeding and those who could move were running.
With no idea what was going on, Sam scanned the area for a safe way out. To her right was the big garage-style door which was wide open and tempting but it was where some of the gunfire was coming from. There was no way she was going to try to cross the open area of the shop. They'd never make it. To her left was a dark corner with what looked to be another storage room. It wasn't great but might be their best bet to stay alive.
"Keegan. Keegan." She shook him hard. "Wake up. I can't carry you. Please stand. Please."
There was no movement and no reaction.
"Please. Please. Please." This time she cupped his face, gently. "You have too many plans. You can't let them win. I'll kick your ass if you don't get moving. Damn you. We have to move now."
The sound of someone running toward them propelled Sam to jump to her feet. The only weapon she could find was a broom in the corner. She picked it up and, as soon as the guy came through the door, she swung it like a baseball pro going for a homerun. The guy grunted and went down. She bashed him again and again until he wasn't moving. With two fingers, she picked up the gun that had clattered to the cement floor. The only reason she had touched it was that she knew they may need some protection, but she wasn't even sure she could hold it properly.
"Kamikaze."
She almost burst into tears at the sound of Keegan's voice. Unsure what to do with the weapon, she stuffed it into the back of her pants before rushing to him. He was struggling to stand up. Once on his feet, she took most of his weight and together they limped to the doors and turned left. Leaning Keegan against the wall, she tried the door to the room. It was locked. No amount of banging or pulling changed that. She grabbed him and together they inched their way down the side of the Quonset, heading for the big doors. There wasn't much to hide behind other than the shadows along the wall. About halfway down, there was a crate on its side. Since he was getting heavier and harder to maneuver, she knew they wouldn't make it much farther. The sound of gunshots still filled the air. There didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. Fatigue was pulling at her, her muscles screamed in protest. The headache she'd been fighting off and ignoring since she'd woken hit her with a vengeance. Stumbling, she felt Keegan slip from her grasp, but she couldn't do more than sink to the floor beside him. A bullet zinged off the metal side of the building, missing her by what she would guess was inches.
It was enough to propel her onto her knees and, with the last vestiges of strength she could find, she scooted and pulled Keegan until they were behind the empty wooden box.
The last words she remembered hearing, or at least she prayed she'd heard, were, "Police!"