The coldness of the floor, and cracking his head against it, fully awakened Kermit to an unpleasant situation. Groaning, he slowly opened his eyes to the semi-darkness of being in car at night, a van to be precise. A dull ache in his stomach and a sharp pain in his head told him it hadn't been long since he was kidnapped, yet long enough to bang his head somewhere. The coldness of the van had permeated through his clothes and caused some stiffness. Not only that, but his hands were tied securely behind his back, restricting any movement he tried to make.
As his eyes gained adjustment in
the dim light, he noticed two figures resting against the sides of the van, two
female figures. Must be Skalaney and Jody, he
thought. Shifting a little, he felt someone behind him and caught a faint whiff
of herbs, almost masked by the
other scents in the van and knew it was Caine.
Wonder where Peter is, he vaguely thought while craning his neck to see who the kidnappers were. Just two blobs hidden behind the shape of the seats. He laid his head down and closed his eyes. He'd have to wait to where they were going before he could try to plan any type of escape. That and he wanted to know if everyone else was alright.
It was almost two hours
before the van slowly came to a halt. Pretending to still be out, Kermit heard
the van doors open and felt someone grab his feet. Still playing comatose, he
was carried into a building that was just as cold as the van. And just as
hard. Where the hell am I? Kermit asked
himself as he surveyed the room. It was small with concrete walls and a hard
concrete floor. Dirt and age stained the place, it smelt like filth, and death.
Only a small, glass-broken window lit the place, and a half moon offered some
light.
One by one, three other people were brought
into the room with him. And none of them was Peter. Chancing a whisper as soon as the captors
left the room, Kermit asked "is everyone alright?"
Skalaney
mumbled something, Jody offered a yeah, and Caine asked
where they were. Kermit responded by saying that he didn't know.
"What about Peter?"
Jody asked, sounding drained.
"I don't know. I know Rowe
is here but I don't know who his partner is, except that its
a woman. How's your stomach feeling Caine?"
"He must have poisoned
either the rice or vegetables."
"Guess we should have
eaten Spagettio's too. How were you taken Skalaney?"
"Someone came up behind me
and put a cloth over my mouth."
"Yeah, mine is the same
way, it happened after I called you." said Jody. "Any clues as to how
we are going to get out of here?"
"None
yet. Have you been able to free
yourself yet Caine?" Kermit had noticed that the
priest had sat up and somehow managed to get his hands in front of him.
The man shook his head no.
"They used duct tape."
Just then the door opened and
the light of a lantern blinded them. Blinking quickly, Kermit watched Shaun
Rowe waltz through the door, with the secretary from the law firm right behind.
Rowe was a man of average height and weight, with a goatee and receding hairline.
Shaun set the lantern on the floor right in front of them.
Smiling, he clapped his hands.
"Ah good, I'm glad to see you are all awake. I wasn't sure I had mixed the
poisons correctly. I bet you are
wondering why you are here." He paused, "money. The best reason of all."
"If you're thinking of
ransoming us, they won't pay." Jody countered.
"Oh no, that wasn't quite
what I had in mind. I know that as sworn in servants of the peace that ransom
will not be paid for any of you, except for maybe the priest since he isn't a
cop but an innocent victim taken with the three of you. However, he is
Peter's father, so his capture is justified in my eyes. But to answer your
question, no one is being ransomed nor has an offer been made. Just as no one
even knows that you are here. I plan on robbing my old firm again, with the
help of my lovely assistant, Shannon, in which both you and Mr. Froggie have already met."
The woman at his side gave a
short bow. "Nice to see you two again."
Kermit stared at the two.
"Why kidnap us?"
Shaun laughed, "easy, they would be more concerned in finding three of their
detectives and a priest then about some law firm losing millions of dollars.
And when they would connect the two, we will be long gone."
"Then why are you telling
us this?" asked Jody.
"I doubt anyone would find
you, so you probably won't live beyond a week or so, with it being so cold and
damp and everything. However, Peter will try and find each of you. And by then,
we will be long gone." Shaun crossed over the room to the
window and looked out. He scratched his chin thinking. Turning, he and
After hearing the door bolts squeal
shut and lock, Kermit let out a soft curse.
Jody sighed, "at least
we won't remember much of this night." Slowly she stood up and walked over
to the window. Dawn was slowly beginning to break, but none of the light broke
the darkness that seemed to inhabit the small room.
She felt Kermit stand next to her. "You don't know
where we are, do you?"
He grunted in reply. Turning
around, he saw Caine using a broken piece of glass to
free Mary Margaret. Walking over to Caine, he turned
and offered his tied hands.
"I knew you would find a way around the duct tape. I'll make sure to tell
Peter about it in case he needs you to stay put." The two men then
examined the door, but could find no way to open it. After determining there
was no way out of the room, the two gave up.
Mary Margaret had Caine sit next to her as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I take it you didn't find any sort of way out of here?"
"No, everything is
sealed."
The room fell silent as each
was lost in their own thoughts, and
hoped Peter would find them.
Waking groggily, Peter rubbed his head as he sat up. Sitting on the bottom of the steps to his father's apartment, the night's events caught up with him. He knew that all of them had been kidnapped. Just like he knew Rowe will be after him next.
Standing, he slowly creeped up his father's stairs until he reached the apartment area. Walking over to the table, he saw no note. Sighing, he turned around and went back down the stairs.
Arriving at the precinct
shortly after dawn, Peter had watched the sun rise over the city. This was one
of the few moments in the day when everything still seemed quiet and had the
same peacefulness and hopefulness about what the day might hold. He and
his father watched the sunrise and sunset as often as possible when they were
together, and he couldn't help but wonder if his father was watching the
sunrise as well.
The normally chaotic 101st was
serene as he wearily headed for his desk. The night shift officers nodded at
him, and then went back to their coffees and first edition papers. Sitting down
at his desk, there was no note. Logging on to his police e-mail account, he saw
no new message either. Rubbing his neck, he stood and poured himself a cup of
coffee and waited for Shaun to make his move.
It was 8AM, and still no word. Peter was
on his third cup of coffee, and had finished two cases that needed typed.
Captain Simms had rolled in around 7:30, and Peter had informed her of all that
had happened overnight. Both had agreed that Shaun might
make an attempt to rob his old firm again. Peter had been on the phone ever
since, trying to speak to Mr. Patterson. Trying again, Peter was relieved to
hear the man's whiney
voice announcing himself. The man cursed the
incompetence of the judicial system.
"Oh why can't you just
shoot all of the offenders, that way, people might just start following the
law. I'm going to speak to the mayor about this. Of why you supposed protectors
of peace can't keep an eye on a murderous offender. And not only that,
but my secretary has called off sick again."
Something about that caught Peter's
attention. "What do you mean she called off?"
"She called this morning
saying she was sick." The man whined, "and not only that, but also
yesterday."
"What is her name"
Peter asked.
"Shannon Monroe. And
don't think she's involved, shes
a nice sweet girl."
"Just
doing my job. But you might want to put your staff on high alert."
"Don't you worry about us. I had a new theft-proof system installed. The only one
who has access to it is me. Its even anti-hacker proof.
Shaun can try all he wants, but he's not going to get my money. Just do your job, Detective, and catch that criminal."
With that, the phone line went dead.
Peter hung the phone up, and
began researching Shannon Monroe.
About three hours later, Peter
and a small S.W.A.T. team were heading up apartment steps to Miss Monroe's
building. Peter had finally begun to put the pieces together. After numerous phone
calls to Shannon's friends and former business associates, he had discovered
that Shannon had used to work at the
Cove, a dance club Rowe had frequented. Once in prison, Rowe had begun to write
to her, and she wrote him back. After looking through Rowe's prison visitor's
log, Peter had found that she also visited him as well.
they planned on getting married whenever he got out.
involved in the kidnapping of three police officers, both a warrant and a S.W.A.T. team were issued, effective immediately.
Splinters from the door flew
out as the door buckled in under the small battering ram that the S.W.A.T.
used. Gun pulled, Peter rushed inside. He heard the other team members do the
same.
The place was a mess. Papers, books, clothes, and other stuff littered the rooms. Empty plates and pizza cartons lined the hallway. Hearing the calls from the other officers, the place was empty.
"Sir," Peter turned to look at the officer that had joined him. "We found an open window and busted screen by a computer. And forensics wants to know if they can come in to start dusting."
Peter nodded for them to go ahead. Going
to the room that had the computer, by all signs, someone had just left. He put
his hand on the monitor, still warm. Using the mouse to open the files, a blank
screen flashed. Someone had deleted all the files. Sitting down, Peter began to
try and hack into the system. Oh, I wish Kermit was here, he
thought to himself as he went into several different files.
Finally, the computer beeped,
and all of the deleted files flashed on screen.
"Good work sir," said
a young officer from behind him, "when will these slackers ever learn that
nothing ever gets truly erased from those things."
Peter grunted, sure, he had to
take all of the computer courses that officer training required, however, he'd
never thought he'd have to use it.
"All of the deleted files
just went into the trash can."
The officer nodded.
Going into the files completed
the picture that Peter was solving. Both Shannon and Shaun were planning on
robbing the old firm, a list of offshore accounts
confirmed it.
Hitting the
print button, Peter leaned back in the chair. A tired beep announced that the
printing was completed. Peter handed it to the young officer, "take this
down to the DA's office and get an arrest warrant for Shaun Rowe and Shannon Monroe
on charges of grand larceny and kidnapping. Also, call the law firm so they can
take the necessary precautions."
"Sir," said a tall,
dark skinned man wearing the S.W.A.T gear, "take a look at these. The man
handed Peter a thick, hardbound book. A thin piece of paper stuck out the top.
Opening the book, it was a storage receipt.
Smiling grimily, Peter shook the
receipt. "What do you want to bet that my car is here?"
The S.W.A.T. man chuckled.
"When I get a hold of
Rowe, he better hope I find that car spotless. Lets
go." With that, Peter went to the storage rental.
"Any luck in locating them yet?"
A deep female voice asked. Glancing up, Peter saw the concerned features of his
captain. He had found both his and Kermit's car at the rental. Unfortunately, both
were now considered evidence to a crime and would be in
storage for an indefinite period of time.
The book that the receipt was is
was about the next county, and was his next clue.
"I have it narrowed to two different locales. This book will tell where
they are, but I think he's going to contact us soon." Opening the book, he
held the pages out. "The first locale is an abandoned mine. Silver was found
but had run out. It is now boarded up." Flipping the pages, he stopped on
another site. "This is an abandoned prison. Used mostly from the early
1900's to the 1950's, it was shut down from lack of funding and bad press due
to numerous mysterious prisoner deaths."
Captain Simms raised an
eyebrow.
"It seems that too many
of the inmates were dying. Anyway, both of them seem plausible. In the book,
you can tell where someone bent and marked the pages. The one even has food
spilled on it. Some kind of Chinese I think, judging from the smell."
Simms studied both sites before
handing the book back to Peter. "Either way, I'll notify the local
authorities."
"Um, excuse me, Peter Caine."
Peter looked up to see a Chinese delivery boy in front of him.
"I have your dinner." He handed
a small plastic bag over. "That will be seven dollars please."
"Did you get hungry
detective?" Simms asked, obviously peeved.
He shook his head no.
"Have you seen the fortune cookie?"
Finding it tucked in a small
bag with soy packets, he opened it. Reading it quickly, he waved the
fortune.
"This is our clue, because I
didn't order any food. It says:
You're gonna need luck to find out where everyone is
hidden.
There's only two choices, so choose wisely. Or they'll
all be
dead by daybreak. And come alone, or it'll be sooner than daybreak."
"Didn't you say one of the pages had food
stained on it?"
Peter nodded, opening the book,
his stomach growling. "Here, its the
prison." Glancing at his watch, it was almost 7.
"It'll take you two hours to get there. I'll alert
the locals and state police to let them know that you're coming. Frank and I
will be a half hour behind you with them. You just focus on rescuing them, we'll take care of the rest."
Nodding, he took a few bites
of the food on his desk. Standing, he grabbed the carton and disappeared out
the door.
Kermit watched the sunset. Its deep orange colors slowly simmered to a soft purple. However, no normal night sounds accompanied it. No cricket chirped nor owl hooted. It was really eerie, the quiet. The only sound was the wind, and even it had a
certain pathetic moan to it. But what creeped Kermit out the most was the silence between the wind, it felt almost expectant of something. Once, he even thought he heard someone whispering. None of the others had heard it, although Caine had answered in
his usual cryptic tones that they were never truly alone, especially here.
Staring back out of the narrow window, he saw a pair of lights coming closer. The lights went behind one of the outer buildings.
“They’re back” he announced. No one answered.
After a few minutes of silence, the sound of bolts moving could be heard. Caine and him had debated if attacking them was a good course of action. But not knowing where Peter was solved the issue. Soon, a soft glow came from under the door and clicks from an old rusty lock protesting movement announced their captors had returned.
“You guys better be away from the door, or else I’ll blow you to pieces.” Shaun’s voice warned. As the door inched open, they could see a rifle barrel sliding through in the faint light. Shaun fired the gun. The blast deafened their ears as the suddenness of it startled them.
Shaun
threw the door all the way open, rifle pointed at
them. “I told you I wasn’t kidding around. Its also
nice to see that all of you listened to me. I was kinda
hoping to put a bullet through one of you though.” A faint cocky grin was made
out in the iridescent light that
Walking into the room, Shaun rotated the barrel end of the gun on each of them. “I want all of you to kneel down and face the wall. Since the tapes off, its gonna have to be redone. This time tighter.”
Jody chanced a quick glance at Kermit and Caine. Neither gave no indications of his thoughts. Mary Margaret squeezed her hand.
“Now! Or Peter is going to come and find nothing but corpses!” Shaun raised the gun to his shoulder and the sound of it being cocked drove home his point. Still, they didn’t move.
Shaun moved forward and pointed the barrel right between Mary Margaret’s eyes. “One,” he counted. Caine shifted. “Two.” Jody turned around and knelt down. Caine and Kermit followed suite.
“Smart. Anyone moves, and she’ll die. Tape’em.”
“All of
you are going to be separated.” Said Shaun simply, rifle still pointed. “It’ll
make Peter have to track each one down. Right now, I am currently transferring
my former law firm’s revenue into numerous bank accounts.
supposed anti-theft system, so now all I have to do is finish the download of it. If it all goes well, Peter will have ample time to find you. If it fails, then Peter will die the second he steps on this compound. And he does have an idea that you are here.”
Shaun
then nodded to
captor would put each of them.
Mary Margaret sat in the blackness in complete loneliness. After Jody had been taken, the captors had come back for Caine, then her. The only thing that they had told her was that she was in an old cafeteria. And that it too, had its share of vengeful
spirits. Too confuse her even more,
And now, sitting in the dark, she was scared. The darkness was freaking her out. She had heard something crawling around. And also felt some sort of insect brush past her fingers. Rats and bugs and other creepy-crawly things were foremost on her mind.
Shifting to a different position, her back muscles ached. The floor was cold and made her body tighten up. She squinted into the room to see if anything could be made out. It was just complete and utter darkness. Sighing, she leaned her head against the wall.
Then something crawled over her leg.
“Ekk! Get offa me!” she cried jumping up. Heart racing, she really, really hated rats.
“Hello? Mary Margaret? Are you over there? Please tell me that was you.”
Mary Margaret strained her ears, it sounded like Jody. She tentatively hollered back. “Yeah, is that you Jody?”
After a second, her answer came back.
“Oh thank god its you. I was scared to death that I was all by myself in some cockroach infested dungeon.”
Mary Margaret laughed. “You are in some cockroach infested dungeon. Now, where the hell are you?”
“Over here. Just follow my voice.”
Feeling along the wall, Mary Margaret slowly felt her way to where she heard the other woman. She almost tripped once on what felt like an old crate. All the while, she heard insects and rats scurry away from her. Finally making it to the other woman, she
leaned up against her for support.
“I was thinking on the way over here, that after this is all over, lets take a vacation.”
Jody laughed. “Sounds great. Lets go where there’s plenty of hot single guys. Like the beach.”
“
“Either one. Think we should try to move out of here?”
Mary Margaret paused, “no, lets give Peter a chance to rescue us. If he doesn’t come by morning, we might be able to see our way out of here.”
The other woman yawned, “This is gonna be a long night. And I am scared to death of cockroaches. I had one that jumped on me in the shower in my old dorm room.”
“Mine was in my shoe.”
The car headlights barely illuminated the old prison compound. It was almost as if there was a perminate distortion that blanketed it in darkness. Pulling up to what he thought was the main building, Peter parked and cut the engine. Blackness, full and complete filled his vision. Pulling out a flashlight, its beam was puny. Walking over to a looming building, Peter flashed the light on the door and saw a note pasted on it.
Reading it to himself, it said that he was going to have to find each and everyone of them.
“Where each one is to be found, is
where each of them should be found”
He sighed, damn it, I’m sick of these riddles. Rereading the note he paused to think about it.
“Okay Peter” he said out loud to himself, “where would Mary Margaret best be found.” He thought about what he knew of her. She liked to cook and bust bad guys. Smirking, Peter felt a light bulb go off in his head. Maybe Jody will be there too.
“I bet she’s in the kitchen. Now I wonder where that is.” Shaking his head, Peter closed his eyes and tried to use his Shaolin senses.
Walking alongside a large, rectangular building, Peter hoped one of his friends would be inside. Underfoot, crinkled leaves kept him from making a silent entrance. Finally coming upon a door, he went in.
Other than the complete darkness, the place felt desolate and evil. Acrid odors assaulted his nose. “Ugh,” he said, covering his nose, “something must have died in here.”
Shining the flash light around, he took in the mess. Old dead animals littered the ground in broken skeletons. Half cracked crates lay brokenly about. There were dead weeds and trash. The building had been vacant for a long time.
Stepping over what looked like a headless doll, Peter went straight into the room. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Peter felt a cold draft and nervously glanced from side to side. Going deeper into the room, he thought he saw figures ahead of him.
Cautiously, he crept nearer. The object seemed to materialize out of the darkness when the flashlight was shined on it. Going closer, it was a table, broken and laying on its side. Peter felt a sigh of relief.
“Alright Peter, you found the cafeteria.” He said to himself. Calling out, he yelled out Mary Margaret’s and Jody’s names. His voice seemed hollow in the gloom.
After a second, he heard his named being called back, by two female voices. Feeling relieved that he had found two of his friends so far, he felt hopeful about finding his father and Kermit.
An hour later, Peter still couldn’t find either of the two men. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t sure of where to find them, although that was a part of it, its just that he had no idea of where anything was. Both Mary Margaret and Jody were back at his car. And reinforcements should be arriving soon. Until then, he was on his own.
Wandering down a black corridor, the prisoner barracks hadn’t revealed either his father or friend. The corridor ended abruptly, with no exit, just a solid wall with dark stains that looked suspiciously like dried
blood. Peter put his hands on the cool concrete. It felt evil and malignant, as
if the evil of what had gone on half a century before was still restless. Peter remembered hearing stories about how the old prisons were. With all of the abuse and questionable prison deaths, he knew that the place would never be right.
Where would Kermit be? Where would my father be? Peter thought again. What other creepy places were in the old prisons? Thinking back to old prison movies, he remembered that there was also an execution chamber and solitary confinement.
Turning, he walked the length of the barracks and then headed toward a building adjacent, once again hoping it would give him answers.
Silence, dead silence, played more tricks on the imagination than any tape recorder could. Just the dead quality of the nothingness, allowed amplified hearing for any other sign of life. Kermit could hear his heart beating. He could hear the occasional lonesome sigh of the basement chamber of where he was held in. He imagined he heard half whispers, but wasn’t sure if they were his imagination. And now strapped
to a chair of death, he felt the very blood in his body pulse.
Rowe had left him a light. A single, 30 watt bulb that gave off a yellowed glow. By the bulb having light, being strapped in an electric chair tensed his muscles more than the cold did. Staring at the old lever switch on the wall, the wires were still perfectly connected to all of the circuits between the power and the chair. And there was no dust on them.
Rowe had strapped him in at both of his feet, his hands, around his middle and had even placed the metal crown atop his head. The cold steel of the cap weighed his head down, making his neck muscles tense even further. Trying to pull out by breaking the chair had not worked. His arms and legs were bruised from the effort.
Kermit had tried yelling. When he heard something fall, he had quieted, feeling as though he had disturbed what spirits had been at rest. After hearing the crash of whatever strange object had fallen, he realized that he did not want to even think of what had fallen, or why.
Straining at the tight metal and leather shackles, Kermit tried once again to free himself. Nothing gave, the chair didn’t even squeak from years of age. Leaning back, he bit his tongue against yelling in frustration. No, he did not want to yell again, something inside told him. Shifting in the chair, Kermit listened to the silence.
“Damn it.” He said out loud anyway. Suddenly, a loud clang came again. Some metal sounding hollow item jarring the silence. A slight echo made him think it was a rather large object.
Kermit straitened, heart pounding louder. What the hell was that? He shook his head, staining his ears to hear what might have caused it. Nothing, dead silence, like before.
Closing his eyes again, Kermit slowly became aware of a new sound. A soft hum could be faintly heard. Feeling his blood turn to ice, he realized what it was, the faint hum of electricity.
Entering the next building, Peter flashed the light on the floor. In the thickened dust, he noticed multiple foot tracks leading deeper into the building and back out again. Following the prints, it led to a stairwell. Going down the stairs, he had the impression he was on the final hallway that many prisoners had taken before being executed. Finally reaching the bottom of the two flights, there was only one way to go.
The hall itself was barren. No door or other hallway opened up. Even the dust on the floor had ceased to exist down here. Seeing something dark up ahead, Peter hurried to find out what it was.
The flashlight revealed an old iron cell gate. Its dark metal had no sign of aging. A small placard on it said, “authorized personnel only”.
He pulled the old hinge lock open and began to enter. For some reason or other he stopped and reached into his pocket. Pulling out a bag of crispy noodles that had come in the Chinese meal earlier, he dumped the contents of the noodles on the floor.
After that, he began walking again.
As the hall continued on in an obtuse darkness, Peter began to hear a faint hum. Its drone became louder as he approached an emerging light. Coming up to another door, Peter could see the yellow glare from under the door and in a small, eye-level window.
Peering in, he could see his friend strapped to an old-time electric chair. Kermit shifted and stared at the door, unseeing of his rescuer.
Peter opened the door, it swung in silently on its hinges. Upon seeing the movement, Kermit straitened.
“It was about time you showed up” said the trapped detective.
Peter smirked, “sorry, it was ladies first. I found them in the kitchen.”
“So much for the feminist revolution.”
“Don’t feel too bad, they had a lot of rats and cockroaches and spiders and other creepy crawlies.” With that Peter began unstrapping Kermit.
Just as he finished with the first leg iron, a loud, dull clang was heard.
“Damn it, what the hell is that? I’ve heard it three or four times. I don’t know what’s falling in those rooms out there but...”
“Shh” warned Peter. Both ears straining, the faded echoes of the clang dulled out as if it never had happened. Only one thing changed, the electric hum had grown louder.
“What the hell is it?” Kermit whispered loudly.
Peter shook his head and moved faster to undo his friend. “Kermit, there are no other doors along the hallway here. Just one metal cell gate, which I left open.” He finally got the second leg iron before moving to the hands. “What I was listening for was a crunch. I put down some crispy noodles in case someone was following me. I didn’t hear any crunching, did you?”
Kermit nervously glanced at the door. It stood ajar, the dark hallway beyond seemed more menacing. He had the sinking feeling that someone, or something, had closed the cell gate. He grunted at the thought, ex-mercenaries didn’t believe in ghosts,
just demons.
Peter had just finished all of the buckles on the left hand when the second clang was heard. Its dull, lifeless sound was followed by a second geary-sounding metallic groaning. The droning of the electric rose louder as the single-watt bulb flickered.
Finally finished with the last buckle, Peter moved to undo the last strap attached around Kermit’s middle, the one that had kept the body from flying out of the chair whenever electricity had been shot through its victims.
The electric buzz grew into a louder zinging as its force began to grow. The lightbulb significantly brightened from the former yellowed haze into a bright iridescent radiance.
Peter grunted as he pulled the last unweilding buckle that held Kermit’s body to the chair. Moving his hands to help free him from the metal crown, the lock on the strap wouldn’t budge.
Peter could hear his friend swearing as he strained to get the strap undone. Reaching up, he gripped the end of the leather strap and yanked down as hard as he could. Kermit gagged as the strap choked him. The tongue of the lock reluctantly gave under the pressure, and the strap slid grudgingly free.
Bolting out of the chair, Kermit stood panting at the door. “Oh when I get that bastard, he’s going to pay.” Angrily, staring at the chair, he looked like he wanted to strap the man into it. The smile crossed his face as soon as the idea did. “Lets go.” Kermit turned and walked out. Peter, turning the flashlight on again, followed him into the darkened corridor.
Once out in the hallway, the two swiftly made it to the cell gate. It was closed. Pulling on the handlebar, the metal hinge refused to move.
“What the, it worked on my way down.” Peter strained with the handle. Using the flashlight, he shined the beam where he had dumped the crispy noodles. They were still on the floor, unmolested by any intruder.
Suddenly, the blackened corridor streaked with lightning-like flashes. The blinding light came from the room they had just escaped out of. A jolted surge of electricity echoed down the hallway.
As swiftly as it jerked itself out of the darkness, it stopped, lasting only a few seconds that felt longer, and remained longer. Completely blinded, the unmistakable click and near-silent opening of the cell door was the only sound left in the now silence.
After a seconds pause for the realization that they were now free, both men bolted down the corridor.
The way back to his car was easy, the headlights were on high, bringing some sort of light to the velvety darkness.
“When is the calvary supposed to arrive?” asked Jody the newcomers.
Peter shook his head, “the plan was that they would be about a half hour behind me. Any sign of Rowe?”
“ No.” Sighing, Peter turned to go back out into the darkness. “You guys wait here, I’m going to find my father.” With that, he stepped away from the protective shelter of light.
“Wait, Peter,” said Mary Margaret, “Do you have another flashlight? We could split up.”
“No, just the one I have.”
“Well, I’m coming with you.”
“Alright. Kermit, you and Jody go after Rowe when the Captain gets here. I’m just focusing on finding my father.”
With that, the two detectives left.
Coming upon a looming black building, Mary Margaret asked “any idea where your father is?”
“Yeah, in the clue Rowe left, he said that each would be found where you should be found. So I’m trying to find the chapel.” Finding the door, Peter opened and shined the feeble light in.
“Ladies first.”
“You’re to kind.” Mary Margaret disappeared into the darkness.
Peter, following closely behind, flashed the light on the floor. Numerous footprints led to and from the opening, as well as, a few other rooms.
“This is where they held us.” Mary Margaret said, recognizing the area. “This must be the main hall, although I’m not sure where Rowe had his main office.”
Following the footprints, they stopped in front of an office. The glass on the door was encrusted over with years of grime, yet, a single hand print allowed them to peep into the room. Spying another door inside of it, Peter slowly opened the door. Its hinges offered a pathetic squeak as the two detectives entered. Cautiously creeping forward, a yellow light appeared at the bottom of the unopened door.
Hearing voices, Peter pulled his gun.
“Yes, the van’s packed, now lets get outta here. Its getting weird again. Like last night.” Said a whiney female voice.
A man’s voice laughed in response. “You read to many Stephen King books. There is nothing out there. And there was nothing out there last night. You heard a rat or something. C’mon, we’ll leave through the chapel, Peter should be getting here any minute.” With that, the sound of a zipper closing and footsteps walking away. The yellowed light winked out, casting all in darkness.
Opening the door, the two detectives heard another door close as the two kidnappers went through an exit in the back of the room.
Whispering loudly, Peter said, “we’ll arrest them and get them to show us where Pop is.” Not waiting for a response, Peter swiftly crossed the room. A small sign announced ‘chapel’ next to the door.
Just as he put his hand on the knob, a blood-curdling scream split the air. Peter tried to turn the knob, but the door was locked. While fighting with it, three gunshots went off, and another, ominous creak was heard.
“Peter, get the door open!” Yelled Mary Margaret.
Trying again, “I can’t, the doors jammed somehow.” Moving back as if to kick the door in, Peter raised his leg.
Almost as if dreading the upcoming beating, the door softly clicked open. Peter couldn’t see his partner’s face in the darkness, but he could feel her uneasiness. Shaking his head, Peter plunged into the next room.
Seeing the contrasting beam of light from a fallen flashlight, Peter shined his around the room. A grisly image greeted him as he saw the body of a woman laying on the ground. A pool of blood around her was slowly darkening the chapel’s tiled floor.
Peter heard Mary Margaret gasp at unexpectedness of the body. Moving the light up a little, a man’s body dangled from a noose. The rope was attached from a rafter beam.
“That’s Rowe hanging there. The woman on the floor is his accomplice, Shannon. Who did this? Do you think they tried to kill each other?” Mary Margaret whispered in subdued tones.
Shaking his head, “I don’t know. But we need to find my father.”
Giving the room one last sweep, Peter concentrated on the connection he had with his father. It was a link he hardly was able to substantiate, yet there were times he could feel another presence, one gentle and loving. And now, he could feel a disturbance, an uneasiness that was not his own. He had to find his father, he had to make sure he was alright. Taking a deep breath, Peter walked away from the ghastly occurrence, and doubted if he would ever really learn the truth.
It was the kind of darkness that your eyes would never fully accustom to. Just a velvety blackness where eyes liked to bring forth phantom images and nightmare shapes. Where in its unforgiving silence, the mind made up for the lack of sound, or did it?
Straining against the duct tape bonds, the sticky tape stretched slightly, but wouldn’t break. Sighing Kwai Chang gave up for the moment in trying to get out from his imprisonment. The female kidnapper had led him down the stairs and into the
room, while Rowe had been right behind, gunbarrel pressed into his back to make sure he wouldn’t make any move against them.
They went into a desolate part of the building, and deep into an underground chamber. He guessed he was in the solitary confinement wing due to the solid metal celldoors.
Going
into the cell, the captors forced him in and then securely taped his arms
around a pole that ran down through the corner of the room. Before leaving,
Sliding down the pole to sit on the floor, he evaluated his options. With the tape not budging, he could try yelling. Staring in the direction of the door, he remembered the thickness of it and how solid it was. Sighing, he leaned back against the pole. With his arms being locked behind his back, there was little he could do.
Closing his eyes to meditate, a faint squeak intruded. A mouse? he questioned. Straining his eyes toward where he thought he heard the sound, a seeming whitish-gray shape was slowly emerging from the darkness. Kwai Chang could feel his heart beat
faster, was someone in the room with him? It had the shape of a man’s torso, but in the darkness, it was almost impossible to distinguish what it actually was.
“Hello?” He asked the image. No response. No sound either. It bothered him. There was no sense as to what it was, no way to guess either. Closing his eyes, he attempted to mediate again. He felt as though someone was watching him. Opening his eyes, it was still there.
Drip. The sound came out from nowhere.
Drip, Kwai Chang heard it again. He sighed, realizing that the wait would feel even longer.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Crossing over to the next building, Peter entered and realized that he was in some sort of solitary confinement area. Beyond the initial entrance, there were two sets of cell doors that he had to pass through in order to get more internal. Passing through the last gate, he wished he had more crispy noodles. The old hinge locks on the gates had opened easy enough, but it was the coming out that played on his mind.
“Peter, shine the light on the floor.” His partner’s whispered voice asked.
Complying, the light revealed sets of footprints once again leading to a stairwell. As they went down deeper into the underground dungeon, Peter remembered his father saying when they were going after Tan; “that those who seek to be enlightened, always went the higher route, while those with darkness in their hearts, always went the lower.”
Peter felt his heart darken as both the dust and the footprints in them tapered off. Upon reaching the lowest flight, Peter realized he was in a “T” intersection.
“Oh no,” Mary Margaret groaned, “which way is it?”
Shrugging in a Caine-like fashion, Peter replied, “we could just act like Strenlich when he’s mad at me.”
Although he couldn’t see it, he could hear a slight chuckle from the other detective. Drawing in a breath, Peter yelled for his father as loud as he could.
“POP!” Pausing a second to collect more air, he yelled again, “POP!”
Listening, silence. Peter took another intake of air, poised to yell again, when a faint “Peter” was heard.
Turning to Mary Margaret he smiled, “see, I told you I could find him easily, with or without any sort of Shaolin power.”
Hearing his son’s voice call out from the darkness brought tremendous relief. Kwai Chang had been locked in the dark cell for an untold amount of time. Alone with a greyish blob in the corner and an incessant “drip.”
Standing up, his joints creaked from the stiffness caused by the damp conditions. It was cold and moisture creeped in from the ground. At first he thought he had been hearing things, one could never be to sure in a haunted prison, but with the second
“Pop” he knew only one person in the world who loved to call him that no matter how it irritated him.
“Pop.” He heard his son yell again, closer.
“Peter, I am in the last cell”
After a few moments, he heard a knock at the door. “Sir, I believe your rescuers are here,” said a familiar voice.
“Thank you Peter.”
“Hi Caine” added Mary Margaret.
Peter undid the main lock and tried to pull the bolt open. It wouldn’t budge. Changing his handhold on it, he tried again. Nothing. What was it with him and locks tonight, he questioned.
“Hey Pop, how are you holding up?” He asked into the blackness.
“I am ready to get out of here.”
“Well, the bolts stuck. Anyway you can Shaolinize it open?”
Silence.
“Well?” Peter asked again.
After a second, his father responded in a weary but peeved tone. “What kind of word is ‘Shaolinize?’ No Peter, I can not open the door from here. My hands are duct taped behind my back. I want out of here.”
“Ok, Ok, don’t get testy. I’ll try the bolt again.” With that, he tried the bolt again. It didn’t budge.
“What if you got some sort of bolt cutters. Think that’ll help?” Asked Mary Margaret.
Taking a deep breath, he scratched his head. “I don’t know. I have some in the trunk. Do you want to stay and keep him company or go back and get it?”
“I’ll stay.”
All of a sudden, a groaning noise was heard. And the sound of water dripping got louder. It was turning into a steady flow.
“Peter, there is water flooding the cell! Get the door open!” His father screamed.
Bursting into action, Peter slammed himself against the door, hoping to jar the bolt free from whatever it was stuck on. Pulling at the bolt, it still refused to move.
Giving the flashlight to Mary Margaret he yelled at her. “Go, get the boltcutters! They’re in the trunk!” Taking the light, she took off running.
Going back to the door, Peter tried frantically to slide the bolt free. It still refused to budge.
“Damnit!” he cried helplessly against the door, as the water continued to rise.
What seemed like an hour later, although was most likely only ten minutes, Peter could hear at least two people running towards him. Two weak flashlight beams bounced towards him as well.
“Peter,” Kermit’s gruff voice called out from the darkness. Within seconds the detective stood before him along with Mary Margaret.
“How is he?” Asked the female detective.
Peter shook his head, “the waters chest level and rising fast.”
Kermit held up the bolt cutters. Putting them up to the door, Peter realized that the bolt lock was deep inside the door. A narrow slot where the bold handle slid over was all that could be seen. They were too wide to fit.
Peter banged on the door. “We’re almost ready to undo the bolt.”
“Any ideas Kermit?” Peter had noticed that he was doing something, but couldn’t see just what.
“Yup, I grabbed a flare from your car. We’ll just have to blast this door open.”
Opening the flare, Kermit poured the powder inside into a piece of paper that Mary Margaret was holding. Placing the cord inside with a few inches sticking out, he then wrapped it cigar-style.
“Viola, a homemade bomb.” Taking the bomb, he stuffed it into the narrow bolt opening.
“If I’m right, it’ll blow a gap in the bolt and we’ll be able to slide it over to open the door.” Explained the detective. Smiling, he pulled out a match and lit the fuse.
“Now run!” he yelled.
Seconds later, the flash and boom of the explosion sounded as though a small earthquake had just occurred. Shaking the ground, the explosion ripped through the entire building. The three heard a groaning from the building, its core shaken.
As the detectives ran back to the door, a single split/crack could be heard. Kermit shined the feeble light on the door. The explosion had cracked the door in half. Peter and Mary Margaret got off to the side as Kermit grabbed the bolt.
“Here goes.” He said, and pulled.
The first half of the door fell out, gushing water. Peter felt the water submerge his feet as he moved to enter the cell. As he forced his way in, the water rose to mid-thigh and drained quickly lower. Hearing his father coughing, Peter shined the
light on him.
Caine was still attached to the pole and on the ground. Moving swiftly to him, Peter pulled out a small pocketknife and cut the tape that bound him.
Pounding him on his back, the coughing slowly subsided. “How are you feeling?” Peter asked carefully.
Shivering, Caine replied “cold.”
Taking off his jacket, Peter draped it over his father and helped him stand.
“Can you shine the light in the corner, Peter?” Caine asked. He wanted to see what the grayish-whitish blob was. Just before the pipe had burst, the image had moved. It had risen toward the ceiling and then disappeared.
“Sure, what was it you wanted to see?” His son shined the light in the corner, but there was nothing.
Shaking his head in bewilderment, Caine walked out of the prison cell.
“But Captain, we both saw his body hanging!” Peter reiterated for the nth time. The Captain and local police department had arrived while he had been rescuing his father. Mary Margaret had told them about the bodies of Rowe and Shannon in the chapel. When the police had gone in, the hanging body of Rowe was missing.
“Then where is it?” She demanded back.
“Like I said, I don’t know.”
The local sheriff had joined them after Peter’s last statement. He looked as though he belonged on an old western film. He even had the graying handlebar moustache.
“I’m sorry to disturb you two, but I just have a few questions about what happened in there.” He said with a slight western accent. “You said that the electric chair started up as Detective Griffin was in it. But there is no generator hookup or any sort of electricity in this facility anymore. Are you sure the light was on and not just a flashlight tied to it?”
“Yes, the light was on and you could even hear the hum of electricity.”
The older man nodded, he had heard this story several times already. “And as to the water pipe the solitary cell, there is no water running in these pipes anymore. Not only that, the stormwater drainage is on the otherside of the compound. You said the pipe broke, but there is no evidence of exactly how it broke. Are you sure no one was banging on it?”
“Once again no. The pipe was at the ceiling. My father said he thought he saw a white image float toward the ceiling and then the pipe broke.” Peter explained again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I know they’re all hungry and I had seen a Denny’s in town.
If you need us, we will be there.”
Turning from his Captain and the sheriff, Peter walked over to his friends. His father sat wrapped in a blanket on the ground with Mary Margaret sitting next to him. Kermit and Jody sat on the hood. Walking up to them, he gave them a huge grin.
“Anyone hungry for some pancakes?”
* * * * * *
Peter walked into his apartment and saw his father by the stove. “Hi Pop. What’s for supper?” This was one of the best perks with having his father stay with him, he always had a hot meal ready when he got home.
“One of your favorites” his father replied.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Peter saw a pot of Spagehttio’s cooking. “Nice Pop.”
Taking a
swig, he leaned back against the counter. “They still haven’t found Rowe’s
body. The gun that was used to kill
“What about the law firm?”
Peter grimaced, remembering how things went with the lawyer earlier. “Well, lets just say his money has been traced into the offshore accounts that I recovered. However, getting his money back out will take weeks, if not months, to regain. It’s something about Rowe missing that the foreign banks are hesitant about.”
Helping his father put two bowls of the pasta on the table, Peter sat down to eat and noticed his father was eating Spaghettio’s as well.
“I didn’t know that Spaghettio’s were on a diet for Shaolin priests.”
Caine smiled “why not, they are rather good and have extra calcium.”
“And that they do.”
Finish