Page 98 of Seth
“Today, at six. Bring the guys.”
Seth attached the coordinates of the abandoned concrete factory and hit “send”.
He returned to the basement and set the plan in motion.
* * *
“Seriously,why didwe come here if we aren’t going in?” Diego yawned; his tawny eyes followed a bumblebee crawling up the wing mirror. He rested his chin on his elbow stuck out of the lowered window that overlooked the abandoned industrial site. Behind the metal fence, the white silo towered above the scattering of smaller buildings. A long, narrow bridge connected the silo to the three-story factory with broken windows. Wild grapes and motley grass added to the desolate, post-apocalyptic look.
“Because we aren’t suicidal,” Gustavo droned and glanced at his watch. It’d been two hours since Seth disappeared inside. “He will kill tonight. If we go in there, he might cross us off his list.”
A vivid image of Seth’s determined, neurotic face, that always carried the afterglow of emotions, resurrected in his memory.
“Then what are we doing here?”
“Watching?” Gustavo shrugged, then elbowed Diego. “Look.”
A black Hummer pulled over in front of the metal fence guarding the abandoned factory. Right after it, an open Jeep screeched to a stop. Barking music poisoned the air.
The music died. Eight men stepped out. After a round of handshakes and loud greetings, they headed down the fence. They engaged in chit-chat, but only shards of their conversation reached Gustavo.
His gaze darted from one tall figure to another, assessing the danger. Some were packed in leather, the others in casual t-shirts and jeans, but all had clean-shaven heads. Gustavo’s hand reached to the door. “Why there’re so many of them? I thought he only hunted one.”
“Relax.” Diego’s palm covered his forearm. “He handled our security team without breaking a sweat, and it was on our territory. I don’t think he needs your help.”
Gustavo forced himself to let go of the handle, but his leg jittered as minutes ticked by. Time after time, he glanced at his watch just to realize that only a minute or two had passed.
“I’m going in.” He yanked the door handle.
“Wait, didn’t you say you weren’t going to meddle?” Diego reached after him and grabbed his jacket. “What are you trying to do? You aren’t welcome there.”
“I need to see.” But as soon as Gustavo shrugged his friend off, a dark shadow crossed the front of the factory to return rolling a wheelbarrow.
“See? He is fine. If they aren’t dead yet, they will be soon. Want to go and see?”
Gustavo tugged the door closed, his anxiety melting. “No…”
* * *
With surprising punctuality,eight men had filed through the factory, following the sounds of an early Nazi hymn. They reminded Seth of rats crawling into a trap packed with treats. And just like a mousetrap, Seth activated the mechanism as soon as the last man stepped over the threshold of the passageway he’d rigged so carefully. The spring engaged, the door slammed closed, lock latching. He would have smiled at his success if hatred didn’t erode his soul.
If the men looked up, they would have noticed hoses hanging from the air vent. The self-made diffuser, connected to the nitrous oxide cylinders, activated and started spraying Halothane in the air.
Seth barred the metal door and leaned against the wall next to it. A series of bangs thundered through the space as a gun fired. The door vibrated but held. Another series of gunshots came from afar as the men tried the other door. When several voices shouted and a boot connected with metal, Seth knew the other door held too. Twenty minutes stretched in eternity. The bumping turned into nails scratching metal, every clawing weaker than before. Wasting their breaths on shouting, the men didn’t seem to notice gas filling the passage.
Eight men, huh?Someone was extra, but that didn’t bother Seth. They all came for the same reason. They all deserved absolute death.
When the clawing stopped, he put a gas mask on, deactivated the locking mechanism, and opened the door. He drifted through the space, checking the faces of his hostages. His fists clenched; he kicked the nearest man in the stomach, then again and again.
“Fuck!” Ernst Sommer didn’t come.
Without Ernst, these people were useless. He could torture them all day long and not get anywhere. Two years had passed since the rape. None of them might have been there, and he had no idea how to prove otherwise. He sucked in a long breath. When he exhaled, the glass of his gas mask misted from his breath.
Oh well… I guess I’ll have to kill them all.He cocked his head and set his body in motion.
* * *
Windowless,round wallstowered above him, gradually slanting into a dome. Crusts of concrete layered the walls. A single light bulb swaying on a thick wire provided the only illumination. A tall metal ladder connected the ground and the access door cut in the dome. Three buckets of water, a canister of acid, his duffel bag, and a blue medical cloth nestled next to the ladder. A scattering of rocks and concrete dust littered the floor.
