Page 27 of Lake's Legacy

I return to the waiting room to find Toff giving Joseph last-minute instructions.

“You have my phone. Lake’s number is in there. Everyone knows to call my number to check in as they finish their sweep of their assigned areas. The areas without a name are the ones that still need someone assigned to search.”

I’m studying the map and see two grids without names. They’re on the outskirts of the community. “We’ll take these two,” I tell Joseph. When he leans over to write in our names, I tug on Toff’s arm and propel him towards the door.

“Who lives out where we’re going?”

“No one. That’s why I had assigned no one to search the area yet. There’s only one homestead out there. It used to belong to Running Bear. He died last summer, and it’s sat abandoned since.”

I share a look with Toff. Our first stop is Running Bear’s former cabin. As Toff drives, I text Pirate with the information Celeste gave me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: OLIVIA

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You two are coming with us. Don’t make a fucking sound. I’ll gladly shoot the bitch and her spawn. Take these and tie her to the bed.” He hands us each a zip tie. We reluctantly attach her ankles to the stirrups. When we finish, he shoves a roll of gauze into my hand. “Gag her.” I wrap the gauze around her mouth, staring into her tear-filled eyes. “Tighter, or I’ll do it and make it hurt.” With an apology, I tighten the gag.

“Good enough. Now, let’s get moving. Out the back and don’t make a fucking sound.”

Annette and I glance at each other before following them outside. I see Annette slide a scalpel into her jeans and wish I could mimic her action. Celeste whimpers as we leave. The leader stays inside with Celeste while the others drag us through the swamp. I’m terrified for Celeste. What if the asshole who stayed behind hurts her? Or what if he kills her and her child? I don’t know whether to be relieved or concerned when he catches up to us a few minutes later. I didn’t hear the sound of a shot, so I’m hopeful he left Celeste alive. After several minutes, we break into a small clearing containing three motorcycles.

Two hop on their bikes while the third waves the gun at us. “Get on the back.”

We both balk, but the one with the gun steps up to Annette and places the barrel between her eyes. I scramble onto the back of the bike nearest me. The driver grabs my wrists and pulls them to the front. He zip-ties my wrists together. I glance over to see Annette on the second bike, with her wrists also tied.

“Don’t think about making them crash. I’ll be behind you. I’ll shoot you if I have to.”

The man I’m strapped to smells like he has a religious aversion to soap. I try shifting away from him to get some fresh air. He reaches up and yanks my arms forward again so I’m plastered against his back. The man who threatened us rides up next to me and aims the gun at me. I don’t think he’ll shoot. He’d risk his friend, but I take heed of the warning. Luckily, the drive is quick, and we pull behind a cabin.

The leader parks far enough ahead that I can make out the logo on his kutte. A bald eagle with his wings pulled wide. In each talon is a flag. The flag on the left is the Confederate flag, while the other is a German flag displaying the Swastika. The assholes stole America’s icon and defiled it with the flags of our enemies. Fuckers. The words ‘Third Reich’ stretch over the emblem, but the bottom rocker is missing. I’m confident this is the same emblem the assholes at the restaurant had on their backs. So, the gang extorting money in New Orleans are the ones harassing Lake’s people. However, these men aren’t the same ones who entered the restaurant. So, the gang has at least six members—maybe more. We need to get away from these men so I can tell Lake.

Once they’ve cut the zip ties, our drivers grab our arms and yank us inside. The third man follows with his gun still out. We can’t escape. They march us through the house and into the kitchen. However, they lead us into a cellar before I can look around. The cellar lacks a window, so the only light comes from the open door at the top of the stairs.

I hear Annette sniffle next to me. I’m too pissed to cry.

“What do you want with us?” I demand.

They ignore me.

“You’ve signed your death warrants. The men we were with are going to come looking for us, and when they find us, you’re dead.”

The man with the gun smirks at us, but the one I rode behind snorts. “Fucking injuns? I hope they come. I’m ready for some target practice. Riding around in circles like a bunch of dumb fucks. We can pick them off one by one. Stupid motherfuckers.”

His accent tells me he’s from the Deep South, likely Alabama. I can picture him yelling ‘yee haw’ as he hops onto his motorcycle. He’s wearing dirty jeans and a faded shirt with the wording ‘Real Men Shoot Their Load.’ Classy.

Annette snorts with derision. “Those old movies were shit. Only an idiot would believe them. So, I’m not surprised you do.”

He swings his arm back to backhand her, but the leader snaps at him.

“Leave it. Our friend wants them without marks. I’m not risking the payday because you’re a moron.”

I share a look with Annette. Someone wants us? Why?

“Who wants us? Who are you working for?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, you’re just a distraction. Your disappearance will keep those assholes busy.”

With those words, they climb the stairs, slamming the door shut behind them. I hear the lock slide into place. We’re trapped in the dark.

“We need to get out of these zip ties,” Annette says, moving next to me. “See if you can get the scalpel in my pocket.”

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