Page 104 of The Cult

He tilted his head up, listening. “I don’t hear anything.” He frowned, shaking his head.

“That,” I said. A faint conversation drifted on the breeze.

Sterling and I looked at each other as a loud splash echoed in the distance.

“It’s coming from the quarry pit! Follow me,” he urged.

My pace quickened as I tried to push the worst-case scenario out of my brain. There was only one outcome I was willing to entertain: Abel safe and sound.

The hair on the back of my neck stood as three guards behind the copse appeared in my line of vision. One was helping another off the ground. I searched frantically, craning my neck to find Abel. He was nowhere. Where are you, baby?

I was a man on a mission. I closed the gap between me and the guards. “Motherfuckers,” I growled. I hurled myself into the first guy holding a gun, while Sterling fought the other.

He aimed the weapon at me. His cold eyes narrowed.

I grabbed his wrist, twisting until his grip on the gun faltered. It fell to the ground; I kicked it away.

Someone grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back. I turned around and elbowed his face. “Ahh!” the second guard grunted when he staggered back. Blood poured into his lips. “You broke my fucking nose!”

The first guard scrambled to retrieve his gun. I lunged at him and pulled him down with me as I hit the ground. With him on top of me, we wrestled for control of the gun. I curled his hand, aiming the barrel at his chest.

The fucker’s eyes widened when he realized that he was no match for me. He jostled to get out of my grip, but I had his thighs locked with my legs. I forced him to pull the trigger on himself, and our tussle for control was over when a shot rang out. His hold on me loosened and his body turned limp.

I pushed him off me and jumped to my feet.

“What the fuck?” the other guy hollered. He leaped forward with his billy club, but I swatted his arm away and met him with a punch to the jaw. He landed on his side, wincing. He crawled to reach for his club, but I straddled him and pinned his body to the ground.

“Where is he?” I demanded. My hold on his neck tightened.

His eyes bulged; his face turned crimson.

There was a commotion a few feet away from us, followed by a thud and a groan. I glanced over to see the third guy crumple to the dirt, blood dripping onto his closed eyelids.

Standing above him was Sterling, holding a thick tree limb. He stared at his weapon. Other than his heavy breathing, Sterling didn’t appear to be hurt.

The guard writhed beneath me as I continued to straddle him. His face was turning a deep shade of purple. His eyes were bloodshot. One of his hands reached for his radio while the other tried to unclench my viselike grip on his neck.

I released one of my hands and ripped the beeping radio from his vest, tossing it into the pit below. I drew close to his face. “Where is Abel?” I snarled.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he scratched my face and neck.

It didn’t faze me. Pain was irrelevant. “I’ll give you one last chance.” I eased my hold on him, allowing him to speak.

“I hope he’s dead,” he sneered. “Just like his fa—”

I snapped the fucker’s neck before he could speak another word. I stood, my chest heaving.

“Tobias,” Sterling called out. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the water below. “Down there,” he said, motioning to the pit. “Abel’s in the water.”

Without any hesitation, I jumped. I’d be damned if I let the one beautiful treasure I had slip through my fingers. I’m coming for you, baby.

The shock of the cold water momentarily stole my breath. But fueled by the desperation to reach Abel before it was too late, I pressed on. Below the surface of the pit lake lay a murky blur of grime and algae. Finding him would be hard; I couldn’t see past twenty feet and the sunlight only reached parts of the pit. It wasn’t complete darkness, thank goodness, but I would scour every inch of it to find him.

I plunged deeper, scanning the depths. There! A shadow resembling an arm floated nearby, so I hurried to get to him before he drifted away. Fuck. I balled my fists; it was a floating log. I willed myself to calm down, to slow the beating of my heart. I would need to conserve my energy, because I didn’t know how long it would take me to find Abel.

A shimmer caught my attention. I trained my eyes on the source, watching as the current shifted, parting the hazy veil below. My heart lurched in my throat; the shiny reflection was coming from the duct tape on Abel’s mouth. He materialized into view. His eyes were closed, hands behind his back, and he was sinking toward the bottom.

With a surge of adrenaline, I propelled myself toward him, my hands and legs cutting through the water. My lungs burned, thirsty for air. I reached out, grasping his arm and pulling him close. I wasted no time in tearing away the tape binding his mouth. Abel’s eyes remained closed, his body sagging in my arms. I pressed my fingers to his neck to find his pulse. Come on, baby. I tried the other side, but I couldn’t feel anything.

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