Before the Moon Rises (8 page)

Before the Moon Rises

by Catherine Bybee

were old and covered in rust. No noise came from them,

leading her to believe the house above was vacant.

She gave the chains that bound her hands a quick tug.

They were secure and unlike everything else around her, new.

She managed to get to her feet, giving her arms a break

and increasing the circulation to her fingertips.

On her right, she noticed another set of chains. Leaning in

she saw something hanging on them. Her eyes narrowed

before terror in the form of a scream escaped her throat.

Flesh and strands of skin dried in blood hung to the edges

of the metal links.

Her screams filled the empty space. Her breath ragged and

forced controlled every muscle in her body. Grotesque images

haunted her concerning the fate of the person there before.

Her eyes dropped to the ground and saw for the first time

the dried blood she sat in. Her screams erupted again, until

thankfully she passed out.

They gathered, as they always did when one of their own

was threatened.

Stoned-faced and determined, Max stood over the pack.

Every one of them brought a civilian so cars could be driven

at night.

"How do we know where he's keeping her?"

"We don't." Max's admission came at a price. Not having

the exact location would mean they would have to spread out.

Doing so was risky. The outcome, uncertain. "The address on

the matchbook could be nothing more than a trap."

"Going there could mean suicide, Max."

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He glared at his brother who stated the obvious. "Not

going would mean her death. Or worse."

Richard nodded.

"You'll follow me to this address. The rest of you, pan out

to his other known locations. Keep your cells on. If I leave

this address with another person let the others know where I

am," he told his brother.

"He could kill you then and there," Lisa, his twenty-four

year old cousin said from the side.

Max shook his head. "No. He wants me to watch." At least

that's what Max kept telling himself. Gorman wanted to

torment, otherwise he would have already done away with

Janet. Keeping her alive would draw Max to him.

Max's father pounded him on his back. "We'll get her,

son."

"We need to get moving." Lisa started for the door.

"Sundown is in less than two hours."

Max held back while the others filed out of his home. His

father stood by his side.

"She's the one, dad. I can't let him have her."

A smile skirted across his father's face. "I thought as

much. It isn't like you to call the whole clan."

"Gorman can't turn her."

"We won't let that happen."

Max shoved his fists in his pockets. "If he tries, and I'm

unable to stop him. Get to her first." The unspoken request

for his father to be the one to change Janet before Gorman

had a chance to, left an empty hole in the pit of Max's

stomach.

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"I will."

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The address Max obtained directed him to a neighborhood

filled with rundown houses and graffiti clad streets. Heavy

iron bars burdened every window and door, indicating that

this was not the place to linger unless you belonged. Even

then the chances of surviving past nightfall was slim.

Max walked the perimeter of the house before approaching

the door. She wasn't there, had never been according to his

nose.

Just as assured of her absence, he was certain he was

being watched. Over his shoulder, he noted the van his

brother drove parked several houses down.

Inside the boarded up, abandoned home would be a clue

as to where to find her.

It wasn't locked. In fact, the door almost crumbled when

he opened it wide. With a gun in front of him, he bent his ear

to listen for signs of life.

All he heard was the hum and static of an old television.

The dial and tube type, which took several minutes to warm

up once turned on.

The black and white picture filtered snow on the screen. He

stepped closer for a better look.

His throat clenched. There she was, chained like an

animal, and dangling on a wall.

Janet struggled to free herself. Her frantic movements

showed him her desperation.

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"I'll kill you for this you son of a bitch!" he yelled, spinning

around as he did.

Laughter crackled through the speakers of the old set. Max

focused on the TV. Janet had stopped her movements. Her

feet braced wide as if ready for a fight.

"You've been quite a nuisance, Ritter." Gorman's voice said

in defiance.

"It's me you want. Leave her alone." Max said to the set,

not certain he could be heard.

"Max? Is that you?" Janet frantically searched the room.

"Please, Max. Help me."

Kneeling next to the set, Max placed a hand on it wishing

he could calm her fears. His were mounting by the second.

"Please, Max... Help me." Gorman's mocking voice

squeaked.

Janet's attention focused on the right of the camera. Max

heard a door open and the sound of footsteps descending

wooden stairs. She attempted to back away, but the chains

restricted her movement.

"You!" she said to Gorman when he approached.

Max moved away from the set and leveled his gun,

desperate to put a hole in the man who appeared on screen.

"You picked the wrong patient, Miss O'Brien. You really

should be more careful about the strays you take home."

Gorman reached out and cupped her chin, she jerked

away, but he captured her head again, this time Max saw his

fingers biting into her skin. "I see why you wanted her."

"Leave her!"

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Gorman moved in closer. Janet's eyes, wide with fear,

watched his every move. "I'm going to enjoy her, Ritter. And

you will watch while I make her mine."

Max needed to get to her. His mind raced to stall Gorman

so he had a fighting chance. "I'm surprised, Gorman. It's

rather chicken shit of you, doing this through a camera. I see

why it is you haven't elevated in your ranks."

Gorman's arm tensed, his eyes swayed to the camera

focused on him.

Max kept talking. "Then again, it's like you to keep your

enemies far away. We wouldn't want your men to see how

inept you are in a fight... Would we?"

He dropped her chin and walked toward the camera. "You

want to be close enough to smell her fear?" One cheek lifted

in a leering smile. "That can be arranged. First, you need to

call off your dogs. Starting with your brother parked across

the street."

Max did his best to keep his surprise at bay. "And?"

"Once I know you're not being followed I will call you."

"How do I know you won't harm her?"

Gorman turned to his prey, his back to the camera. Max

watched as the bastard walked straight up to Janet and raked

his hand across her breast. "Oh, I'll harm her, Ritter. If you're

lucky I'll wait until you can stand as witness. When I'm done,

she'll be my bitch. Not yours."

"Hurry!" Janet pleaded.

"Tick, tock... The sun is setting. Run along now and do as I

said."

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"Don't follow me," Max demanded, doing his best to hide

the gnawing fear in his gut.

"It's a set up and you know it," Richard argued.

"Gorman wants to get to me. If I can hold him off until I

get there I have a chance of saving her."

Richard glared at his brother. "Call me when he gives you

an address."

"Have the others track when the moon rises." Max turned

to leave.

"I hate this!" Richard yelled after him.

Instead of turning around and adding a comment. Max ran

to his car and took off.

Before long a dark non-descript four-door sedan followed

Max's trail. His phone rang.

"Let's see how well you follow directions, Ritter."

He listened while Gorman gave him a set of directions and

an address.

Grateful to have something, Max breathed a small sigh of

relief before turning onto the freeway and hitting the gas.

"One more thing," Gorman said before hanging up.

"What?"

"Toss your phone out the window. Make sure my man can

see you or the deal is off."

Shit!
Max slowed down until Gorman's goon practically

kissed the bumper of the Ferrari. He rolled down the window,

waved his arm on the outside of it, and then dropped the cell

to the pavement.

Once he was cut off from Gorman, Max opened up the

Italian sports car and sped to his destination.

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He only had an hour.

Racking her brain to find the hidden meaning in the words

that were said, Janet clung to the chains that bound her to

the wall.

Gorman paced the room, somewhat oblivious of her

presence. His demeanor reminded her of every psych patient

she had ever taken care of. His eyes twitched, his hands

shook and the mumbling of meaningless phrases that escaped

his lips kept Janet's mouth shut. The last thing she needed

was for him to
go off.

Even his clothing was crazy. A three-piece, pin-striped suit

stood out of place in the filthy room. It reminded her of every

bad mafia movie she'd ever seen. The only thing missing was

a horrible accent and an Italian name.

Max knew this man. They were enemies with a score to

settle and somehow she was caught in the middle of their

feud.

He should have told her the danger she was in. Then

again, maybe Max had used her to bait Gorman. She tried to

change her thoughts, tried to believe Max incapable of such a

horrible deed. But she couldn't.

Janet wanted to weep with the injustice of her position.

She had trusted Max, in less than two days found comfort in

his arms with a desire to stay with him. If she didn't know

any better, she would swear she had let a small portion of her

heart love him. Now her foolish behavior had her chained to a

wall, her life threatened by the man pacing the room.

Stupid! I'm so damned stupid.

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Gorman suddenly stopped and stared out the small

window. Tremors spiked up her spine.

The sun was low on the horizon that brought a new fear to

the surface. Once darkness fell, the basement would be pitch

black. Janet remembered the full moon and was thankful that

at least the glow of it would illuminate some of the space.

"He's here," said Gorman.

How he knew, Janet couldn't tell. She saw and heard

nothing.

He swung at her and bent close to her ear, his breath,

foul. "I think I'll give you two a minute to talk." Gorman

disappeared up the stairs.

The sound of skidding tires outside caught her attention.

She heard her name yelled.

Max. Her shoulders slumped in relief despite her earlier

thoughts. He was her only hope.

"In here," she screamed. "I'm in the basement!"

The sound of wood splintering as Max barged in the house

above wracked her head. Her heart pounded and her breath

was once again difficult to control. She knew Gorman watched

and wouldn't let them walk away. But perhaps Max could

break her free of the chains and give her a chance to escape.

Tears streamed down her face when Max appeared at the

top of the stairs. He bounded down them in two leaps before

coming to her side.

"Get me out of here," she pleaded.

Max lifted his hand to her cheek and wiped at her tears.

"Oh, Janet. I'm so sorry."

"Not now, Max. He's watching."

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Max pivoted around the room searching for his enemy.

"The chains!" She rattled her arms, bringing his attention

back to her.

Max reached above her head, grabbed the links with both

hands and with his feet braced against the wall pulled with all

his weight. Surprisingly the bolt gave slightly.

"Hurry."

Max yanked again, bringing small chunks of cement down

on her head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Gorman stood at the top

of the stairs with a gun in his hand.

Max stopped and placed his body in front of her. Janet

froze.

"Let's take this outside," Max suggested.

"And miss the expression on her face when the sun sets? I

don't think so." Gorman slowly moved down the steps. "I

don't think Miss O'Brien has any clue as to who she's been

sleeping with."

"What is he talking about?" Janet asked.

Gorman laughed and continued toward them. "This is so