Forsaking Home (The Survivalist Series) (5 page)

Sarge looked at Doc. “Get ’em down the river, Doc.”

After a quick check to make sure everyone had all the ammo and food they needed, the group climbed into a Hummer and they headed for the boat ramp. Doc took charge, navigating the aluminum boat upriver toward the cabins. Being on the water quieted the group. All conversation ceased as each person took in the view. The lilies swaying in the brown water, the old cypress trees, and the beards of Spanish moss hanging down in the current had a relaxing effect on everyone.

When they were almost to the cabins, Mike spun around in his chair. “When we get there, we should talk with Morgan. He knows the area and may be able to give us an idea of where to go to scope out the camps.”

Ted had his feet up on the outboard. Without turning around, he replied, “Great minds, my friend. I was thinking the same thing.”

T
abor sat behind his desk, his usual post. He was camp administrator, and under the current circumstances, it was a job he was thankful to have. He was warm, dry, and well fed. He didn’t have to deal with the scum running around, and he didn’t have to grub around in the dirt to get his food.

“Hey, Ed!” he shouted at the open door.

Ed’s head appeared in the open door. “Yeah, boss?”

“Go get Niigata up here. I want to talk to him.”

“You going to give those new detainees to him?” Ed asked with a smile.

“Yeah, I talked to ’em, but they both gave me the same line. He’ll get the truth out of ’em. No one is out
just riding around
these days.”

Ed nodded. “Sure thing,” he said, quickly disappearing.

A knock at the door diverted Tabor’s attention from the stack of papers before him. Looking up, he saw Niigata and waved him in. “Have a seat.”

Niigata came in and sat stiffly in the chair across from him. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I’ve got some people detained who I need you to question.”

Expressionless Niigata nodded. “And what were they doing when you captured them?”

“Our security guys caught them driving on the road,” Ed said from where he leaned against the door.

“I see. And this is a cause for concern?”

“They were armed, that’s one issue, and they were driving a vehicle, which means they have fuel. They were out on the road using that precious fuel, so whatever they were up to must have been important to them, and that’s what I want to know. I also want to know where they live. There may be a rogue element at play. We can’t take any chances.”

Niigata took in the information. “How exactly would you like me to accomplish your request?”

Tabor raised his eyebrows. “Do what you do. I just need to know that information.”

“In that case, there are a number of methods I can implement. I’ll begin with intimidation—”

Tabor started waving his hands in front of him. “No, no, no, I don’t give a shit what you do, I just need answers to my questions. You figure out how to get them.”

The faintest tension appeared in the corners of Niigata’s mouth. “I understand. How many are there?”

Ed passed a form over Niigata’s shoulder. “There’s two, Calvin Long and his son Shane. You’ll have to start with Shane. The boys got a little rough with Calvin. He’s probably got some broken ribs.”

Niigata reviewed the document, then looked up. “When would you like me to begin my interrogations?”

Tabor shrugged. “As soon as you can.”

Niigata nodded and rose from his seat. “Is there any final disposition you would like for them?”

The question confused Tabor. “Huh?”

Finally Niigata smiled. “Do you want them to be alive when I am finished?”

Tabor sat there slack-jawed looking at the man before him. Ed answered his question. “It doesn’t matter, so long as you are confident you’ve got the info we want”—Ed looked at Tabor—“right, boss?”

Tabor waved a dismissive hand at Niigata. “Yeah, sure. Now get to it.”

Niigata bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, sir. I’ll let you know the results.” He turned and quickly left the office.

Ed came in and dropped into the chair. He looked back over his shoulder to ensure Niigata was gone. “That’s one creepy bastard.”

Tabor sat in his chair, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “Where’d they get that freak?”

“Remember Abu Ghraib?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he’s the one you didn’t hear about in the news. Rumor has it he extracted more info than anyone.”

Tabor rocked in his chair. “Sick fuck looks like he likes it.”

“Oh, he does. You should see him work, takes people apart like a mechanic would pull an alternator.”

“Better him than me, I guess. I’m glad he’s here.”

“Me too. Now let’s hope he gets the information we need.”

 • • • 

The sound of the bar on the door sliding open echoed throughout the building. Jess was curled on the floor, trying to stay warm. Her eyes jerked open at the sound, but the darkness told her nothing of the visitor. Meanwhile, in her cell, Fred was sitting with her back against the wall and her hands resting on her knees. She turned her face toward the din. There was one other sound that instilled more fear in the girls than anything: the jingling keys. In their time spent in detention so far, one of the few pieces of information they could put together was that it was the cruelest guard who would signal his entry by jingling his keys as he walked down the row of cells. Jess inhaled sharply as the sound of keys became audible. The building was as quiet as a tomb, so any sound was magnified. The sharp clanging of the keys reverberated off the walls, accompanied by the sound of boots crunching sand on the cold concrete floor.

The jingling continued down the row, followed by the sound of metal on metal as a key slid into a lock. The door opened, the dry hinges grinding against one another. When the light hit his face, Calvin turned his head. It was an intensity he’d never felt before. With his hands cuffed to his waist, he couldn’t raise them to cover his eyes.

Even though he couldn’t see the men, Calvin heard them enter the cell. He tried to brace himself, but there was nothing he could do to prepare. He was grabbed by both arms and jerked to his feet. A painful moan escaped him as he was forced to stand. The fire tearing through his side caused his knees to buckle.

“Get on your feet, dammit!”

With as much effort as he could muster, Calvin moaned, “You fuckers broke my ribs. I can’t.”

With even more force the two men tried to pull him to his feet. The pain was so intense Calvin completely collapsed. He could feel his ribs popping.

“Son of a bitch, now what?”

“Get the doc over here to see if they really are broken,” one of the men said.

The men stepped out and the door slammed shut. Calvin lay there trying to get his breath. He could only take small gasps of air. A full breath was a wish at this point.

“Dad! Dad, you all right?” Shane called out. He’d found his way to the door and had his face pushed into the edge.

The man that just left Calvin’s cell stepped over and kicked the door. “Shut up!”

“Come in here and try that shit with me, asshole!” Shane shouted.

Silence answered him. Shane moved his face around the door, trying to determine if the man was still there. After a moment of silence, he was answered with a whisper, “Don’t worry, boy, your time is coming.”

Shane jerked his head from the door, surprised by the proximity of the voice. He recovered quickly and yelled out, “Big talk on the other side of that door! Open it up, cocksucker!”

Jess shook her head.
They have no idea what they’re getting into
, she thought.

Soon, more voices came into the building. The door to Calvin’s cell was opened once again, this time without the blinding light that had accompanied the earlier encounter. Before he could even react, a sack was pulled over his head. He could feel hands running over him and something being pushed down his shirt, then an incredible coldness on his chest.

A woman’s voice told him to take a breath. He tried, but all he could muster was a gasp.

“Deeper.”

Calvin shook his head and managed to say, “Can’t.”

A set of hands pressed on his side, causing him to wince and moan. After the brief examination, the people left, leaving the sack on his head and slamming the door.

Though muffled, Jess, Fred, and Shane could hear the guards and medics discuss Calvin’s condition. “He’s got at least two broken on one side and possibly some more fractures,” one of them said.

“We’re supposed to interrogate him today.”

“You can try, but it’ll probably kill him.”

Another man spoke up. “Whatever, get the other one.”

Hearing those words paralyzed Shane momentarily. His mind raced.
I’m not just going to sit here and wait for them to take me.
He felt around the door, trying to see if there was a handhold, but came up with nothing. He knew he couldn’t run at them, but then he remembered an old football drill. He squatted down in front of the door, reaching out to make sure he was close, then took up the position of a lineman, his hands on the floor and his knees bent. With his feet shackled he had to keep them side by side, but he hoped he’d have enough leverage for what he planned.

As the key slid into the lock, he squeezed his eyes tight. The door started to swing open. Even with his eyes closed, the spotlight bore through his eyelids. Shane launched himself through the door. However, it was wider than he anticipated, causing the guard to be standing farther away. Shane’s shoulder hit the man’s knees. He managed to knock the man down, but he fell directly onto Shane’s back, the spotlight crashing to the floor. The guard quickly recovered and drove an elbow into Shane’s back again and again, taking all his breath away.

Shane lay on the cold concrete, trying to get air into his lungs.

“Thought you were smart, didn’t ya, you little shit?”

A hood was quickly pulled over his head, and he was grabbed roughly by the arms.

“Get up, get on your damn feet!” one of the men shouted.

Shane was finally able to get a breath and managed to stumble along. As a door was opened, the warmth of the sun washed over him. Even through the hood on his head, he could see the sunshine through the cloth. As he was pulled along he marveled at the feel of the sun on his body. For a moment he was elsewhere, but only for a moment.

Another door was opened and he was dragged inside another structure. The two men forced him into a chair, then spent several minutes undoing his restraints and securing them to the chair.

“He’s all yours,” one of the men said.

“Keep an eye on him. He thinks he’s pretty smart,” the other said. Shane’s head snapped forward as one of them slapped him in the back of the neck.

Shaking off the insult, Shane rotated his head. The fabric of the hood was thick and he couldn’t see anything, but turning his head allowed him to focus his hearing. His other senses were also more acute. The place had an antiseptic smell. It reminded him of the nurse’s office from his elementary school.

The room was silent, but he knew someone was there. Shane wanted to say something, but he decided to wait for whoever was there to speak first. Instead, he focused on controlling his breathing and trying to relax. He was worried about his dad, and rage was building inside of him. They hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Was it illegal to be driving down the road now? Even if it was, it certainly didn’t justify all this. They hadn’t bothered anyone. Some of their group members wanted to take the fight to the Feds, but Calvin had counseled against it. He assured them the fight would come to them, but that they shouldn’t go looking for it. Unfortunately, when it did find them, they were caught completely by surprise.

After an uncomfortably long time, Shane jumped at what sounded like a chair scraping across the concrete floor. Footsteps followed and he listened as this person moved about the room. Despite his efforts to remain calm, his breathing began to increase, sucking the sack in with every inhalation. After a moment, the hood was snatched from his head. Shane closed his eyes against the light.

The man who pulled the hood from his head was balling it up, his back to Shane. As he tossed the hood onto a small table, he began to speak.

“Shane, my name is Raidon Niigata. You may refer to me as Niigata.” He spun around and leaned back on the table, crossing his ankles.

Niigata smiled and began to speak again. “You and I are going to have a conversation. I will ask you some questions and you will answer them.”

As he spoke, Shane was trying to remember what his voice reminded him of. Then it dawned on him: he sounded like Sulu from the original Star Trek series. This realization caused a small smile to creep across his face. Niigata noticed immediately and smiled back.

“Have I said something that amuses you?”

The smile disappeared immediately. “No, just an old memory is all.”

“Ah, memories, yes, we all have them. Maybe we can talk about some of yours.”

Shane didn’t respond. He simply stared back.

A scowl wrinkled Niigata’s face. “I hear your father is not well—pity. But that is what brought you and me together, isn’t it?”

Shane shook his head. “
Not well?
That what you fuckers call it when you beat a cuffed man? What happened to our rights?”

Niigata smiled again. “How quaint. I assume you are referring to your oft-misquoted
Constitutional rights.
I am certain you realize we are operating under a different set of rules at the moment.”

Shane snorted. “Yeah, I’ve seen your rules in action.”

“Then we can skip the pleasantries and move ahead,” Niigata said, picking up an instrument from the table behind him.

Shane’s pulse immediately jumped when he saw the scissors. As Niigata moved toward him, he struggled against the restraints, to no avail. Without saying a word, Niigata began to cut his shirt off, the blade of the instrument cold against Shane’s skin. Niigata jerked the tatters of the shirt off him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shane shouted.

As Niigata knelt down at his feet, he began to speak again. “Tell me, Shane, what do you know about interrogation?”

Shane watched in horror as Niigata began to cut up the left leg of his pants. Niigata paused and looked up expectantly.

“Uh, I uh, I know it’s mainly psychological,” Shane stammered as Niigata snipped through the waist of his jeans.

Very deliberately, Niigata moved to the right leg. “Very good. You are both right and wrong.”

Trembling, Shane asked, “Why are you doing that? What the fuck?”

“We are establishing the basis of our relationship,” Niigata said, as he stood he snatched the flayed jeans out from under Shane.

Shane let out an audible gasp, looking down at his exposed chest and legs. The room was cold and caused goose bumps to rise. He was thankful he still had his underwear on. In an effort to stop Niigata from going any further, he started to talk, fast.