Read Penumbra (The Midnight Society #2) Online
Authors: Logan Patricks
Lincoln seemed taken aback by the question at first, but slowly the look of surprise on his face faded into one of thoughtful reflection. “I think at a different point in our lives, it could have worked out,” he said. “Back when you were still developing your musical talent, and I was still a street rat, looking to survive. It could have been the picture perfect fairy tale.”
“Oh?”
“In my desperation to find shelter from the cold, I would have walked into one of the concert halls where you were performing. I would have been enchanted by your beauty and a love could have blossomed between us, one that was pure and innocent. Who knows, we might have travelled the world together, you performing your music and I, being your manager. We would have never heard of the Midnight Society, and we’d live happily ever after.”
“But that’s not what happened,” I said.
“No,” Lincoln agreed. “That’s not what happened. And here we are, sitting on a homemade swing set in the middle of the swamp, contemplating about what could have been.”
“Do you believe a person can fall in love with two people at the same time?”
Lincoln shook his head. “The heart can only be devoted to one person at a time, otherwise it’s not considered true love,” he replied.
I nodded. “I love Shadow. I don’t think that will ever change.”
“And I don’t expect it to.”
I leaned over and kissed Lincoln, gently on the lips—an innocent kiss that was laced with broken dreams and what ifs.
He returned the kiss briefly, before we pulled apart.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I guess it’s kind of a goodbye and hello at the same time.”
He looked puzzled.
“It’s a goodbye to whatever happened between us the other night, whatever physical temptations existed. And the hello is us moving forward towards a very long friendship.”
Lincoln smiled. “I can live with that.”
There was a moment of silence between us, one that was filled with comfort and tranquility as the moonlight bathed over us. In the distance, I heard the merriment of the guests from the wedding, dancing and shouting to the sounds of fiery jazz.
Suddenly, off in the distant swamp waters, I saw a set of three large spot lights, pointed towards the island. They were rotating around rather quickly, glowing eyes in search for something.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Trouble,” Lincoln said as he gestured for me to get off the swing. He pulled me to the ground with him. I lay flat on my stomach, hidden underneath the tall grass, watching th
e lights draw closer to us.
I held my breath as I heard
the grinding sounds of motors from speed boats.
There was shouting coming from the
vessels as it docked onto the island. Men dressed all in black began jumping off the boats and into the waters, the sounds of their splashes causing me to cringe.
We were being invaded.
“Should I be worried?” I whispered. Lincoln pressed a finger to his lips.
A loud booming voice echoed from one of the boats.
“Lincoln Richards, this is the Louisiana state police,” the voice thundered through an amp. “We know you are here. Surrender now and no one gets hurt.”
The look of concern on Lincoln’s face was one I had seen before. It was the same look just before he was forced to kill Brevin and James in a sadistic game of Russian Roulette.
I
was
worried.
People were about to die.
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“Lincoln Richards, we know you are on the island. Surrender immediately and no one needs to get hurt,” the voice, booming through the boat’s speaker phone, repeated.
We both remained hidden in the tall grass, just behind the large oak tree. I lifted my head and peered out, turning towards the wedding reception.
The men that had invaded the island were fully decked out in dark swat gear along with night vision goggles. Their appearance reminded me of black owls, hunting for their midnight prey.
They were armed to the nines with weapons that could shred dinosaurs into pieces in a matter of seconds.
Lincoln instinctively reached for his gun, but cursed when he realized he had left it with the ferryman.
No loaded weapons were allowed on Isadora’s island home, a stipulation which I assumed was for all the island’s visitors.
I watched as one of the armed men walked over to the dance floor and grabbed Delilah and pushed her down to her knees. He pointed a gun at her head.
“Get the fuck out here now
, Lincoln,” the swat member shouted, “Otherwise I’ll be making widows tonight, starting with the lovely bride.”
I was stunned.
“Since when did police start threatening people?” I asked.
Lincoln frowned. “Once they’ve been on the receiving end of someone’s generosity.”
“They were bought?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“Three seconds,” the swat member cried out. He began his countdown. “Three.”
I watched the look of horror on Delilah’s face, the gun pressed up against her head. She was crying, her tears mixing with her mascara, painting black streaks down the corners of her eyes.
“Two,” the man shouted. “It’d be a crying shame to put a hole through the head of such a fine looking bride.”
I cast my eyes towards Isadora, who looked as if she had been possessed with the devil’s rage. The look of hatred she had for the man threatening her wife was one that could turn Medusa into stone.
Lincoln took a deep breath and slowly rose to his feet.
“You can’t be serious,” I whispered.
“What other choice do I have?” Lincoln asked. “I’ll go with them and hope everything works out for the best.”
I shook my head. “That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s the only plan we have right now,” he said, as he handed me a set of keys. “It’s for the speedboat. Don’t get caught Aria. It’s up to you and Beau to reach Shadow and deliver everything that’s on the boat to him. He’ll need it if he’s going to have a shot at taking down Calisto.”
“One,” the armored asshole shouted, jamming the gun hard into Delilah’s temple.
With both hands raised in the air, Lincoln walked towards the dance floor where the wedding guests were gathered, all at the mercy of the Louisiana swat team.
“I’m here,” he announced. “Now, if you’ll kindly stop threatening the bride on her wedding day.”
The man, clutching the large shot gun, lowered it slowly.
“Never heard of a shot gun wedding?”
Lincoln sighed. “Really?” he asked, clearly not enjoying the pun.
The man with the shotgun motioned to one of the other members of his team. “Cuff him and bring him to me.”
Lincoln watched as two men approached him, his face a mask of ambivalence. They forced his arms behind his back and cuffed him, rendering him helpless.
They
proceeded to drag Lincoln, like a prisoner, towards the man with the shotgun.
As he passed by Isadora, he looked at her and said the word, “Sorry.”
Her face was laced with venom and hatred, but she acknowledged Lincoln’s apology and nodded.
The men forced Lincoln down to his knees in front of the leader.
“Lincoln Richards, you have the right to remain silent. Anything can and will be used against you in a court of law,” the shot gun man said, as he pointed the weapon right at Lincoln’s head.
Lincoln spat. “Cut the bullshit. It’s clear that you’re not here to represent the law.”
The leader laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong. I am here representing the law, just not the one you’re used to.” He pressed the barrel of the gun right against Lincoln’s forehead and grinned.
Lincoln remained unmoved. If he was terrified of dying, it didn’t show.
I, however, was a wreck.
Please don’t kill him
, I silently prayed.
“So easy to just pull that trigger,” the man with the shot gun said. “So easy to make your head erupt like a smashed pumpkin.”
“Then do it,” Lincoln said. “Shit or get off the pot.”
Why was Lincoln antagonizing the man? Did he not care for his life?
The man with the shot gun stared at his prisoner for a moment, and much to my relief, lowered his gun. He turned his attention to the other wedding guests instead. “Now look at the collection of seedy fucks that we have here. It looks like you have every degenerate in all of God’s creation congregated on this secluded island.” He turned to Isadora and removed his night vision goggles.
“So tell me darling, is Mr. Friday amongst the crowd here today? He’s been causing us law enforcers much grief for quite some time.”
“Go fuck yourself,” she replied.
The man with the shot gun chuckled as he looked at the crowd again. “Yeah, that man is here all right. There’s no way his prized witch can have herself a wedding without him attending it.” He began walking up and down the crowd, scanning the faces of each one of the guests.
My eyes were focused on Lincoln. He saw me.
His mouth moved ever-so-slightly and I didn’t need to be a lip reader to understand his message.
“Run.”
I didn’t want to leave him like this, but I had no other choice. There was nothing I could do against an armed swat team.
I took a deep breath and began crawling away from the scene, doing my best to remain concealed behind the tall grass.
The hill I was on sloped downwards towards the water. I just needed to reach the swamps, where I could hide easily in the water and then circle back to the speed boat, which was ready for our escape.
As I began my descent towards the swamp, I lost my view of both Lincoln and the leader. However, I still heard the latter’s gravelly voice.
“It’s impossible to guess which one of you fucks is Mr. Friday,” he cursed. “You know, I always dreamed of putting a bullet into that fucker’s face, just for all the grief he caused me.”
I held my breath, fearful of what was going to happen next.
“Don’t do this,” I heard Lincoln say, his voice calm as he tried to reason with the insane man. “You have me already. There’s no need to walk down this path.”
“There sure is,” the man snarled, “For the good of the citizens of the United States of America, and for the good of the Revenants.”
There was a moment of brief pause as I slipped into the murky swamp unnoticed. I managed to hold back a gasp as I submerged myself into the cold water.
“Don’t you dare,” I heard Isadora scream. “Or I promise you, I will murder each and every one of your men with my bare hands.”
“Fuck you and your empty threats,” the leader shouted. “Kill them all boys. Kill them all.”
The sound of bullets suddenly erupted like fireworks in the night. It was followed by a chorus of screams.
Oh god, Lincoln! Did they just kill him?
I needed a gun. If I only had one, then maybe I could have done something to help out. I hadn’t fired a gun on another human being before, but there was no doubt in my mind that I would have done so now. I would have saved Lincoln.
I needed to get to that boat and uncover the cache of weapons that was stored there.
In the meantime, I prayed that Lincoln was still alive.
The frantic sounds of gunfire and screams continued, but I did my best to ignore it. The last thing I needed was for my nerves to be shot.
I waded through the waters silently, all but my eyes and forehead submerged.
Please be alive, Lincoln. Please be alive.
I couldn’t handle the thought of another person I cared about dying on me.
The sounds of gunfire were endless, like rapid drums thundering away to the rhythm of a death march. God, I just prayed that I wasn’t too late.
I continued to tread through the water slowly, moving with the same delicate movements when I played the piano.
I rounded a bend and my heart sank. Parked in front of me were three speed boats, each one pointing a large spotlight towards the estate.
Two men stood aboard each one of them, their eyes scanning the area for anyone trying to escape.
What the hell was I going to do? Was it possible for me to sneak by them without getting noticed? Their attention was directed towards the island, and not in the water. Perhaps if I swam out far enough, I could go around them.
Suddenly I felt someone pull on my leg.
I would have screamed if it wasn’t for the wet hand that muffled my mouth.
“Hush, darling,” the voice said. “Otherwise we’ll both be lying at the bottom of the swamp.”
The man released his grip over my mouth and I turned around to see Beau, his hair wet, and matted to his forehead.
“Looks like we both had the same idea,” Beau said. “Aren’t we two peas in a pod?”
“Lincoln,” I whispered. “He’s—”
Beau pointed towards one of the boats. “He’s right there.”
My gaze followed the direction of his finger. I watched as two men dragged Lincoln onto one of the boats. The man with the shot gun followed closely behind.
Thank God he was still alive.
“You fucker,” Lincoln spat. “I was willing to come with you. You didn’t have to kill any of those people.”
“Quit your whining you self-righteous piece of shit,” the leader said. “You’re telling me you actually feel sorry for those bastards? They’re all thieves, murderers and low life pieces of shit like you. This world is better off without those fucks.”
“You’re worse than anyone here,” Lincoln said.
The leader smashed the butt of his gun into Lincoln’s face, sending him to his knees.
I had the urge to lunge out of the water and strangle that bastard, but I felt Beau grab onto my arm, struggling to calm me.
“I never fucking killed a child,” the man in the shot gun spat. “You hear me? I never killed any damn fucking child. Trust me boy, I’ll kill one hundred one of you fucks over and over again if it meant bringing him back.”
Lincoln slowly rose to his feet and shrugged off the unwarranted attack, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground.
“I didn’t kill any boy either,” Lincoln stated.
There was a moment of lingering silence before the man with the shot gun motioned to the other swat members in the vicinity. “She wants this piece of shit alive. We’ll take him back now. Meanwhile, the rest of you finish up here and then plant the evidence. Make it look like a hit on Mr. Friday’s organization gone to shit.”
“Women as well?” one of the men asked.
“Every damned soul in this godforsaken place,” the man with the shotgun replied.
My heart exploded in my chest as I heard the engine of the boat fire up.
“We can’t let him go,” I whispered to Beau.
He shook his head, his mouth etched into a frown.
“We make a move now and all three of us die,” he said. “You heard the man, she—who I’m assuming is Calisto—wants Lincoln alive. He’s safe for the time being. We just need to regroup and figure out where they’re taking him.”
Beau was right.
Reluctantly, I nodded.
I watched as Lincoln, standing at the edge of the boat, scanned the island. I knew he was looking for me, a glimpse just to reassure him that I was alright.
I wanted to call out to him.
I’m down here Lincoln. Come on, see me
. I had delusions that if I willed it, he would hear my thoughts and turn his eyes towards where Beau and I were hiding.
But he didn’t.
I watched helplessly as Lincoln moved further away from me, towards the blackness of the bayou.
His boat w
as a moving tomb on the water and Lincoln, my beacon of hope, faded away into the cold and terrifying darkness.
“Hey, what the fuck is that?” I heard one of the guards suddenly say. Before I could submerge myself under the water to hide, one of the boat’s large spotlights was pointed in my direction. Hot white light penetrated through the darkness, illuminating my shivering body that was wading in the swamp.
Four guns were immediately drawn on me. Beau had disappeared.
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