Jivaja (Soul Cavern Series Book 1) Page 22

  “Look, these people aren't fooling around. They killed a close friend of mine. Left him bleeding out on his office floor.” David's voice thickened. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “He died while I knelt beside him, unable to save him. I’m not being a hardass just to be a hardass.”

  Sara's face paled as she listened. She toyed with the zipper of her jacket.

  “I couldn't live with myself if something like that happened to you. So please, just stay in the car.”

  She didn't respond, but her wide eyes told him that he'd gotten something through to her, at least. He unfastened his seat belt and opened the door.

  “Good luck,” she said as he got out of the car. “Be careful.”

  David stooped over and looked in the open door. “I will. And thanks. You too.” He closed it, sprinted around the car, and into the trees along the side of the road, relieved that she’d finally agreed to stay there.

  Maybe he could pull this out of the weeds. But first, he needed to find Mecca.

  It took a ten minute jog through the pines to get to the base of the pavered drive. David crossed and stayed in the trees on the house side as he made his way up the hill. A line of cars extended halfway down the driveway. He crept along the pine needle carpet. Each footfall brought the sweet, decaying smell to his nose.

  The line of cars moved forward. As he got closer, he saw the front car’s driver side window open. The angle hampered his line of sight, but David guessed the driver was getting his entrance validated by the guard.

  Bringing up the tail of the line, third back from the gate, the black Cadillac Escalade rolled forward several feet. Through the tinted windows, David could just make out a man's silhouette.

  As he lifted the handle, the back passenger side door opened with only a click, and David slid in as the man turned to look at him, surprise etched on his face. Before he even had the door closed behind him, David thrust his left hand forward and grabbed the man’s upper arm from behind as he slammed the gearshift into Park. He shot his energy out, feeling for his captive’s own life energy.

  Sure enough, David felt the cold Cavern where the driver’s soul should have been, along with the small ball of human life held captive there. Letting all the frustration of the day out, his own energy encircled the ball, and he pulled it with all his force.

  The man shrieked in anger and pivoted. He reached out with his left arm, his hand just reaching David. Fingers encased his throat and clamped down. David tried to suck in a breath, but no air could bypass that vise around his windpipe. The edges of his mind went fuzzy. Time slowed.

  David concentrated all his focus on ripping the stolen energy away. He felt the little ball dislodge, but not completely.

  Panic met panic as the man tightened his grip further, his eyes wild. David’s heart pounded double-time. His lungs screamed for oxygen. The pressure in his head threatened to overwhelm him; his vision wavered.

  Don’t let go. You can’t let go.

  He closed his eyes, and let the instinct of his energy take him. Bright colors swirled along the insides of his lids. He pulled again at the energy he could almost see. Pulled hard. If he could just get the soul out.

  The colors dimmed, and he felt his hold slipping. He ignored everything, but his objective. One last surge — it was all he had.

  The silk-covered arm beneath his hand shuddered. As the stolen energy finally broke free of the man’s hold on it and tore into him, the sudden jolt almost threw David back against the seat.

  The fingers around his throat loosened; he drew in a raging breath. His throat burned and he coughed, gagged. The double slam of getting his breath and the energy from the driver all but knocked David over. He couldn’t let go of the man’s arm if he wanted to. Every muscle in his body had locked.

  The life force suffused him. His skin tingled and gooseflesh rose. He filled his tortured lungs with breath after breath, the adrenaline from almost suffocating adding to the high that washed over him. The arm beneath his fingers shrank. David opened his eyes.

  A living skull looked back at him, its own eyes wide with the realization of its death. Its jaw moved but only a gritty whisper came from its dried out throat. The eyes dimmed, as the last of its energy coursed through David. The skull toppled from the neck, landing with a dusty thud on the floorboard at his feet.

  David swayed, trying to gain control over the pulsating levels pouring through him. The outside world came into focus, and he realized the line ahead had begun to move.

  He itched to get out and run the energy off, but instead, he pulled the skeleton into the back and then climbed over the console into the driver’s seat. He shifted gears and eased the Caddy forward. Two cars waited in front of him.

  He realized he’d arrived sadly underdressed. He put the car in Park again and stretched back, maneuvering the black silk dinner jacket off the remains behind him. He let the bones scuttle to the floorboard.

  The line of cars moved forward again. One car left. When the Jaguar in front pulled away from the guard house and proceeded up the long drive, David drove slowly through the gate.

  He stopped beside a man in black at the door of the tiny guard house who held a clipboard. A clear cord ran up the side of his neck to his ear. Close-cropped blond hair looked like thick peach fuzz on his head. He looked all of twenty five.

  “Good evening, sir. May I have your invitation, please?”

  Shit.

  David reached into the jacket with his right hand, but found nothing in the pocket there. Trying to seem natural, he patted his right lapel and felt something smooth beneath the fabric. He slipped his left hand in and found a thin, heavy note card. He drew it out and glanced down to confirm it as an invitation.

  The anxiety that gripped his heart eased as he read the words “Maze Gathering” in gothic script along the front. He handed it out to the guard.

  “Thank you, sir. One moment please.” He compared the invite to his list. “Thank you very much, Mr. Jerome.” He handed the invitation back through the window. “Please enjoy your evening. There is parking at the top of the hill and to the right.” The young man took two steps back and waved David through.

  In his rear-view, he saw the metal gate rolling closed. He didn’t like the trapped feeling that it gave him. But he’d made it in; he’d accomplished that much.

  Now, to find Mecca.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Mecca

  Mecca came to with a sneeze. She groaned. Something thudded inside her head and banged against her skull. She suspected it might be her brain. But she didn’t rule out a sledgehammer.

  The dirt floor pressed against her cheek. The smell of manure was strong down here. She pried one eye open. Several pairs of bare feet stood a yard away.

  “She’s awake.”

  “Leave her be.”

  The whispered voices tickled her mind and brought back memories of women in cages. And men.

  “That’s what she gets for being so stupid.” A familiar man’s voice.

  “Shut up, Ray.” Alicia? “She wouldn’t be in here if you hadn’t wanted her to steal the fucking keys.”

  “She’s a big girl. She made her own decision.”

  “Asshole.”

  Mecca raised herself on unsteady arms. The pounding in her head didn’t ease. She squinted against the glaring overhead light. Someone knelt beside her, put a hand on her back.

  “Just sit up for now. You took a good bang to the head.”

  Mecca raised her gaze and recognized the pretty but filthy young woman who’d encouraged her to run. “Alicia.”

  “Yes. Slowly now.” Alicia supported Mecca’s back and arm as she eased herself into a sitting position.

  “Thank you.” The throbbing settled at the base of her head. Mecca reached back and winced. The light touch of her fingers across the knot there brought a flash across her vision. Memory of her battle with the gorilla returned to her. She groaned.

  “They dumped you in here with us when you passed out. Said
they needed to report to some woman.”

  Shit. “How long ago?”

  “Only a few minutes. You haven’t been out long.”

  Mecca struggled to her feet with Alicia’s help. “We need to get out of here.”

  “She’s a smart one,” Ray said.

  “Shut up,” Alicia replied. She turned her attention back to Mecca. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a dick.”

  The room tilted and went out of focus. Mecca’s knees gave out, but Alicia held her up. Mecca didn’t know how, though, since the girl looked skeletal. She kept a very close check on her Gift. She could easily kill Alicia because of her own weakened state.

  “Here.” A dark-skinned woman with thick, black hair offered a small tin cup half full of water. A battered silver collar wrapped around her neck from just below her chin to where her neck met her shoulders. None of the woman's dark skin could be seen.

  Mecca looked closely at Alicia. She wore one, as well. All the women had silver necks. In the other cage, light from the bare bulb above glinted off silver there too. How had she not noticed those earlier?

  Mecca took a tentative sip of the water, expecting it to be foul. The cool, fresh liquid cascaded over her tongue, surprising her. She sipped a few more times before handing it back. “Thank you.” The young woman retreated to a corner of the cage.

  Refreshed more than she could have imagined, Mecca steadied herself and straightened up, taking most of her weight off of Alicia. The room righted itself and seemed to settle.

  “They’ll be coming for us soon.” Alicia’s breath tickled Mecca’s ear. “I heard them talking about adding you to the maze. They had to tell the woman though. They don't seem very smart, the guards. They said something about seven men and seven women. You would make eight. They weren’t sure whether to put you in or not.”

  Seven men and seven women? What the hell did that mean?

  “It’ll be bad, if they have eight.” The voice came from a very young girl, not more than fourteen, Mecca guessed. She squatted in the far corner, swaying forward and back. With short, mousy, brown hair and crooked glasses, she looked like the class nerd. “He requires seven lads and seven maidens.”

  “Who?” Mecca asked.

  “The Minotaur.”

  Mecca looked at Alicia, who lifted her shoulders in a shrug. Mecca felt the gazes of the other women in the cage.

  “Ever since she heard about the maze,” Alicia said, “Tina has been obsessed with the notion of us being fed to a Minotaur. She says that the legend was that every year seven men and women were sacrificed. I don’t know. Is it coincidence that they’re so focused on there being seven? But a Minotaur? I mean, come on.” Alicia smiled, but no certainty touched her eyes.

  “I don’t think it’s a Minotaur,” Mecca said. She released her hold on Alicia and stood on her own. Each passing moment brought more strength back, though she gave up on any relief from the hammering in her head. She looked across the small group of faces, all different, but all harboring the same emotions: fear and also hope.

  She stepped away from the group, keeping a hand on Alicia’s arm, drawing her along. Mecca leaned in, ignoring the stale tang of sweat and body odor coming from the other woman’s skin.

  “You’re not going to want to believe it, but if we’re going to make it through this, you need to know.”

  Alicia watched her with calm patience. Mecca supposed that she’d learned that from being here, caged.

  “It’s not a Minotaur, but they obviously are playing with that idea. They’re—well, they call themselves Visci, but they seem an awful lot like vampires to me.”

  Mecca waited for a reaction, but Alicia’s expression didn’t change. After a moment, the blonde said, “I know. I saw them kill a girl after I first arrived. No fangs, but they suck the blood, all the same.”

  “If you know, why do you let Tina believe it’s a Minotaur? Why haven’t you told the others?”

  “Does it really matter whether it’s a Minotaur or a vampire? Do we stand a chance either way?” The resignation came across clearly in her tone. Alicia knew she was going to die today.

  “Are you giving up?” Mecca lowered her voice, reigning in her frustration. “You really want to die in filth and stink?” She touched the edge of Alicia’s torn sleeve.

  “I don’t want to die at all. Do you have any idea how strong they are?” Alicia’s eyes flashed. “What the hell am I supposed to do against that?”

  Glad to hear emotion filtering into Alicia’s voice, Mecca continued. “We can fight them. If we all stay together, we can take them down individually. Or maybe even two at a time if the men will join with us. I'm hoping the maze will put the Visci at a disadvantage too.”

  Alicia looked at the gaggle of women and then beyond, to the cage holding the men. Her brow creased in thought, and she frowned before turning back to Mecca. “Do you really think we can get away?”

  “I can’t say for sure. But we don’t have to go easily. We don’t have to hand ourselves over to them.” She leaned closer. “I also have a weapon. I can hurt them. If we get everyone on board and stay together—”

  A clattering outside the barn doors caught everyone's attention. A moment later, one of the massive wood doors swung open and three men stepped into the light. Alicia stiffened at Mecca’s side.

  “Okay, all of you,” said the tallest one — the gorilla, who had the square face, stubble-covered chin and the scar from his left eye, across his nose, to his right cheek. “Everybody out.”

  Whispers scuttled through the air among the captives. Murmured questions of freedom. Sniffling prayers to whoever might be listening.

  “Everybody can get out,” the man said, the nasty grin on his lips made uglier by his scar. “But there are rules.”

  Herded down a narrow path formed by portable fencing, toward the entrance of the maze, Mecca walked with the huddled group of filthy men and women. The air smelled fresh compared to the staleness of the barn, and she took a long, deep breath. Alicia’s arm looped through hers, and they stayed hooked together like two links in a chain.

  Scar, as Mecca had taken to thinking of the gorilla, spoke to them as if they were children.

  “Once you go into the maze,” he said, “you’re gonna want to be the first one out the other side. Because the first one out gets to go on home. And I know you all wanna go on home.” The malicious twinkle in his eye made Mecca wonder whether going home would really be an option for any of them.

  “What about the rest?” Ray asked. Mecca had learned from Alicia that he’d been a captive almost as long as she had.

  That ugly smile crossed Scar’s lips again, and Mecca shuddered.

  “That’s not something you really want to know,” Scar said. Whispers rippled through group of captives.

  Behind her, Mecca heard Tina’s voice. “The Minotaur.”

  Mecca turned and looked at the girl, who hugged herself with rail-thin arms. “There’s no Minotaur, Tina. But you stay with us when we get inside, okay?”

  Tina nodded, silent.

  Off to the side, a whooshing sound caught all their attention. One of the guards held a large, industrial hose; water gushed from the nozzle.

  “Okay,” Scar said over the noise of the water. “Get going!”

  With his signal, the water-bearer turned the hose on them, sending up screeches and surprised yelps. Mecca reached for Tina, pulling the smaller girl between her and Alicia.

  They rushed along as the group surged forward, toward the maze, everyone soaked to the skin within moments. The dirt-packed ground quickly became a muddy pit. People slid as they ran, grabbing each other for purchase, only to drag others down as they fell into the sludge.

  A long wooden pole came out of nowhere and cracked one of the fallen men across the back. He yelped and scrabbled to his feet.

  “Go on!” The veins in Scar's face bulged as he yelled at them. “Run!” He swung the pole back again — it was a rake, Mecca saw. Another icy blast from the hos
e made her turn away amid the scream and yells of the others. She dragged Tina along, hoping Alicia hadn't fallen.

  Once inside the maze, they could go right or left to escape the hits and Mecca dashed to the right. The guest house would be on this side. More of the captives scrambled into the relative safety of the hedge, away from the relentless spray.

  Alicia made it in the midst of a small group of women. She came to where Tina and Mecca stood near the corner. Mud covered everyone, at least to the knees, much higher for some. Those who had fallen looked like swamp creatures. The only sounds for a minute were harsh breathing and the chatter of teeth.

  Metal lamps, like tiki-lights, stuck out of the ground at each turn of the hedge, dropping soft light onto the grass. They gathered together once they got around the first corner and out of sight of their captors. The soft music Mecca had heard when she’d first approached floated in on a small breeze, faint and muted.

  If they just followed the right-hand wall, Mecca decided, they would eventually find the side exit that she’d passed on her way in. It had been lightly guarded. Mecca thought they could easily overtake the one man and then she could lead everyone out to the fire road.

  Ray, the older man from the cage, shouldered his way through the group almost at a jog. “I'm getting the hell out of here!” He knocked into Tina as he came by. She landed on her backside. As she went down, the crunch of her teeth made Mecca's jaw ache in sympathy.

  Alicia helped Tina up as four men followed Ray and then two women behind them. Mecca looked around the corner in the direction they went into the maze, but they'd all disappeared from sight. She turned back to those remaining, now two men, both young and slight, Alicia, Tina, the dark skinned woman who'd shared water with her in the cage and two other women.

  “When I came in, I saw an entrance to the maze on the side. There was only one guard but he does have a gun. If we can get out of here, I can get us to the road.” Mecca kept her voice low, not sure what lurked beyond the leafy walls that surrounded them.

  She hoped they would all make it out alive, but she had no intention of holding her breath. Tina tugged at her hand. The girl looked up at her, grey eyes haunted. Mecca leaned and strained to hear Tina’s voice.