Despite being in a better position, it was still all hands on deck. This meant my three-man team was Eric, Patterson, and me. I felt like we needed a babysitter, considering the whole keep them alive thing, but no one else seemed to think so. One or two officers mixed with killers were really all we could afford anyway. Demetrius turned at the bottom of the stairs. His three-man team was himself, Timmons, and Adam the Stabber. He was in pretty good hands. Roberts had agreed to go with Gabriel after we had told him how much Gabriel hated the Alejandro Gui. Gabriel, Roberts, and Parsons were a team. I wasn’t entirely sure how that would balance out, but I had high hopes for Parsons not dying. Fiona had paired with her sister, Bella, and Wright. I trusted it was a good team.
Eric motioned me forward down the hallway. My eyes swept between the cells, looking for any type of movement. It was tedious work. Any misstep could end badly.
“Ahead,” I whispered, dropping to a crouch. Eric and Patterson were suddenly on me. I groaned as I recognized David Lovel. Lovel was a cannibal of the not so nice kind. He preferred to cook his victims alive. If he couldn’t manage a spit for a person, he carved out chunks. Right now, he was trying to start a fire in the hallway. Several bodies around him were groaning, but not running away. It was obvious why our hallway was so empty.
“Maybe we should tell him that some of the cells are on fire in another block,” Eric offered. My stomach growled at the thought. As much as I hated to admit it, roasted human smelled a lot like roasted pork and I had not eaten all day. “Seriously? You’re in here less than a day and cannibalism sounds appetizing?”
“Hey, I did not get to have lunch,” I defended myself very quietly. “Besides, until you smell it, you do not realize that humans smell like roast.”
“She’s right,” Patterson whispered. “I suggest we just shoot this one in the head.”
“We cannot just shoot him in the head while he is trying to prepare a meal. It looks like murder,” I told Patterson.
“That’s absurd; he’s trying to eat people,” Eric scoffed.
“Killers,” I corrected.
“Killers are people too, Aislinn,” Patterson chided me.
“So if he was only trying to roast killers that killed cops, we could walk away, but since it is a variety of killers, we can shoot him in the head?” I asked.
“Yes,” Eric told me.
“That is absurd.” I frowned at my brother. “Besides, he isn’t going to notice a few bullets. He has a metal plate in his head and he is one badass psychopath on a good day. Today has not been a good day, so he will just get pissed off and try to eat us.”
“I didn’t know he had a metal plate,” Eric said.
“I have already shot him in the head before,” I answered. “He seems pretty normal most of the time, and then he started barbecuing homeless people for his neighbors. I did not know he had a metal plate until after I shot him twice. Then he got up and beat the hell out of me with a crowbar. Thankfully, I shot him a few more times and Lucas jumped into the mix. Between the two of us and the bullet wounds, we managed to get him under control.”
“So, put six in his chest and we’ll beat the hell out of him,” Eric suggested. That sounded reasonable and I had to remind myself that my brother was a mass murderer.
“Just follow my lead.” I stood up, held the gun out, and looked down the hall at David Lovel. “Marshal Cain, Mr. Lovel, it is time to return to your cell,” I told him. He looked up at me and frowned.
“I’m getting ready for dinner. They haven’t fed us today,” he said.
“I’m sure once you arrive in Leavenworth, they will feed you,” I told him. Eric made a noise behind me. I didn’t turn around, but I wanted to.
“No, I’m hungry now, Marshal Cain. I will leave when I have had dinner, pinky promise.”
“Look, it has been a really long day, and normally I would not care if you ate them or not, but I have been instructed not to let anyone die. I have a feeling when you start cutting parts off for dinner, they are going to bleed to death and I cannot let that happen. So, how about you stand up, we will head back to a cell, and I will be sure to let the transport Marshals know that you have not eaten since breakfast. Deal?” I said.
“No,” David Lovel stood up. I was noticing a trend. Even when they weren’t giants, psychopaths seemed to be bigger than me. Lovel outweighed me by a hundred or so pounds and he was almost a foot and a half taller than I was. I still had a few scars from the crowbar. He was wielding a long piece of metal pipe. It was going to leave marks if it landed any blows.
“Do not move, Lovel, or I will shoot,” I warned.
“How’d that work for you last time, Marshal Cain?” He sneered at my name. It hadn’t been great, obviously we both remembered. I pulled the trigger. Almost instantly, blood spread across his shirt. I fired a few more times, trying to ensure blood loss was a factor, but not a lethal one. Lovel laughed at the fifth shot. I holstered the gun. I might need the ammo later. I drew out my baton. I had not owned it when we met the first time. Eric still had the scimitar and someone had dug up Patterson’s cane. I had no idea who allowed it to stay on site. It was definitely lethal.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. Eric took lead, rushing the bigger man. My brother, who always seemed so large, was short and scary thin next to the well-fed cannibal. The scimitar landed a blow on Lovel’s arm. The pipe swung out, clipping Eric’s shoulder, sending him sprawling across the floor into the group of groaning men. Patterson was already on the big man. My old but slippery grandfather swung the cane like Eric swung the sword. It landed a blow on ribs. The cracking sound was audible. Lovel lashed out, but missed Patterson. I debated for a moment. I could let Patterson do most of the work while I got Eric or I could join him and hope Eric got up on his own. Patterson landed a second blow, the pipe hit him in the leg in the process and he fell to one knee.
The thing about having a metal plate in the head was that the scalp split a lot easier when hit. The skull was hard, but titanium was harder and the scalp was not the strongest skin on the body. I bypassed the front, jumping onto his back and bringing the baton down on top of his head. The skin separated, exposing metal. I drew back and landed a second blow in a different spot. Patterson was getting back on his feet as blood began to gush down David Lovel’s face and neck. Scalp wounds bled almost like arteries.
Patterson landed a blow on Lovel’s chin. The cane caved in the jawbone near where it hinged to his skull. The man teetered and I scrambled to jump off him. He fell forward smashing into the floor. My feet tangled up and I landed next to him.
“Glass jaw,” Patterson tutted, his voice full of disdain. “You’d think a psychopath could take a blow to the face.”
“I do not enjoy fighting with the two of you,” I said as I lay on the floor. Eric was pushing himself up. Patterson offered me a hand.
“Why?” Eric asked, finally standing and rotating his shoulder.
“It is very unsatisfying. Normally, I get to inflict the worst wounds. With you two around, I feel like the fight stops before I have even gotten in a few good blows.”
“You made him bleed,” Patterson pulled on my arm, helping me to my feet.
“You knocked him out,” I told my grandfather.
“You like head and knee shots. I like jaw and rib shots.” Patterson shrugged. “Different fighting styles is all it is.”
“You realize we have to drag all these guys into cells and shut them, right?” I asked.
“Or we could set them all on fire,” Eric suggested.
“Pretty sure that counts as murder,” I told my brother.
“We’ll tell everyone that you protested,” Patterson said.
“Cells,” I said more sternly.
“You are going to be sore as fuck tomorrow,” Eric told me.
“Watch your language,” I scolded him, grabbing a small injured man by the arm and jerking on him.
“Mom isn’t here.”
“No, I hope she is either locked in my panic room or at the hospital with Nyleena. Of course, if she is with Nyleena, my dog is probably dead.” I shut the cell door after I exited it.
“You have a dog?” Eric looked at me, surprised.
“Sort of, Mom and I co-own a dog.”
“How does that work?” Patterson asked.
“Well, since she lives with me, she takes care of Badger when I’m gone. I do what I can when I’m home, but mostly, he likes Mom.”
“Mom lives with you?” Eric said.
“Elle did not tell you?” I gave him a look and grabbed another killer. He was a little heftier than the first and I struggled a little more at moving him.
“No,” Eric said. We did not speak much after that.
Clearing the hallway was enough of a chore. The bigger ones, Eric could move by himself, but Patterson and I had to double-team them. Occasionally, we would hear gunfire or screams, but none of them were voices I recognized. Of course, I wouldn’t recognize everyone that had broken off into teams. I didn’t know them. The hallway was a disaster. I was beginning to think David Lovel had just stumbled across the injured and they had been using it as a sort of dumping ground for the injured to keep the corridors clear for the master plan. I was sweating by the time we finished. My brother and grandfather hadn’t even flushed. Men sucked.
Once our corridor was clear and all the wounded killers locked in cells, we went up a flight of stairs. Demetrius was at the doorway. Timmons and Adam the Stabber were with him. They were taking turns firing into the hallway.
“Need help?” Patterson asked.
“Yes,” Demetrius Lazar answered.
“Watch,” Patterson pulled open the door and rolled into the hallway.
“Does he know some sort of martial art?” I asked Eric. Eric shrugged. “For the record, I will never be that nimble.”
“Me either,” Eric responded, as we watched Patterson move from cell to cell down the hallway. Most of the killers seemed puzzled by his appearance. They didn’t know whether to fire or not. “Ready?”
“Lead the way,” I told my brother. He did. I followed. Timmons, Demetrius, and Adam came with me. I had forgotten Adam’s name already. I would have to try to remember it later when I thanked him.