Immortal Killers Page 10

  “I’m actually here as a surprise for an old friend. Don’t know this area at all, though. It’s my first time. Do you know where this is?” On his cell phone, he brought up the address.

  When Maggie looked, her eyebrows lifted. “You’ve got some rich friends.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You suppose? That place is huge. Acres and acres and acres of land. It practically makes up half the town. Man, I’m sorry. That was all a bit rude.”

  “Not a problem. I had no idea they had so much money.”

  “Oh, sure. In fact, right across the street, that forest there, that’s part of their property. You can’t get into it without going around several miles to the front, but that’s part of it.”

  Nathan glanced out the window at the dark forest. “Well, how about that. Have they been there a long time?”

  “Your friend comes up here once-in-a-while. Mostly in the Summer and Fall. You can always tell when they’re coming because they fly in on a private helicopter. Makes a big racket going overhead.”

  Nathan bit into his toast as he stared out the window. When he turned back, Maggie leaned over close, letting the top of her blouse drop for a clear view. “You know, I get off work in about a half-hour. If you can wait until then, I’ll gladly draw you a map. Show you exactly where to go.”

  Nathan couldn’t suppress a grin. “That’s sweet of you. But I just went through something, kind of lost my old life.”

  “Honey, I ain’t trying to get married, and I don’t mind being your rebound for a night.”

  He managed a nod and proceeded to take the next thirty minutes to finish his meal.

  Walking back to his motel room with Maggie at his side, he could feel his heart pounding. She smelled like a mixture of violets, burgers, and a touch of schnapps. It caused his skin to tingle. It had been too long. Since before he had died the first time.

  As they reached the door, he fumbled out his keys. A whisper of guilt blew across him. He shivered.

  Maggie walked into the room. Nathan felt his body reacting to the motion of her hips. Why should he feel guilty? The Nathan that owed his loyalty to Jennie had died in that deli. That was his old life, and if he did not move on, he would be forever stuck trying to bring it back.

  He came up behind Maggie, spun her around, and kissed her. The taste of her mouth — cigarettes and mint — excited him. His heart raced. But still he saw Jennie. He pulled away.

  “Something wrong?” Maggie asked.

  He shook his head but did not move closer. He saw Jennie and Charlie in their home. She had moved on. Why couldn’t he?

  Maggie turned her head to the side. “Oh, you really are on the rebound, huh? That’s okay, sugar. You just need a little motivation.”

  She unbuttoned her blouse, slowly, licking her lips, teasing him as she moved. He had never cheated on Jennie, and it made him angry that she now slept with Charlie. But he had died. She had mourned him and moved on. That’s the difference. He couldn’t let go because he still lived.

  Maggie had removed her blouse completely. Her small breasts seemed to reach out to him. He stepped forward. She put out her hand and drew him in to an embrace. Feeling her warm body press against him awakened his hunger.

  His held her tight, kissing her hard. Nathan Flynn would never do this. Nathan Flynn was loyal to Jennie.

  “Mmmm,” Maggie said. “Now you remember how this works.”

  She pulled off the rest of her clothes and placed his hands upon her. Her breasts filled his hands, her moans filled his ears. His body hardened.

  Nathan Flynn died in a deli, shot in the head. He no longer had Flynn’s face, Flynn’s arms, Flynn’s legs. He had acquired skills Nathan Flynn never possessed. Whoever he had become, this new Nathan — a Nathan with no last name — had no chance to rekindle a relationship with Jennie because he never had one to begin with. His body’s physical needs, Nathan’s body’s needs, drowned out any further debate.

  He dropped his pants and thrust Maggie up against the wall. She guided him inside her, and with both grunting like ravenous animals, they begin the first of several explorations into a carnal evening.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nathan pulled on his black shirt and cinched his belt over his black pants — an improvised recon outfit purchased at Kmart on his way through Pennsylvania. He gazed upon Maggie sleeping with her head buried under a pillow. He hoped she meant it when she said she was looking for nothing more because he had nothing more to give. He turned away and assembled his MP. Out of habit, he checked that he had extra ammunition. He knew the answer already. Not enough. Only one full magazine left. When he turned back, she was sitting up in bed, staring at him.

  In response to his deer-in-the-headlights look, she giggled. “Don’t worry. I didn’t think you were an angel.”

  “I’m not even close.”

  “Should I be afraid?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t care. We’ve all got our demons to deal with.”

  Nathan holstered his weapon and grabbed his wallet and keys.

  Maggie flopped back, exposing her breasts and giving Nathan a moment’s pause. She said, “I guess I wasn’t supposed to wake up yet, right? You wanted to use me as an alibi for whatever you are about to go do.”

  “Among other things.”

  She sat back up and licked her lips. “I liked the other things. So, should I go? I can lie for you. It’s not a problem.”

  “Stay. I shouldn’t be too long. When I get back, I might have a real, strong need for you.”

  “I like being needed.”

  They held each other’s eyes for a moment, their passions heating between them. Shaking his head, Nathan stepped back. As much as his body wanted to dive into that bed, he had a job to do.

  He touched her chin and kissed her quickly on the lips. “There is one thing I need right now.”

  With a devilish grin, she said, “Anything.”

  “Remember that map you said you’d draw me?”

  Five minutes later, Nathan drove off, following the chain link fence that surrounded Russo’s property. He took his time, canvasing all the available roads which bordered the land. Once he knew that much, he picked a spot off the main roads to gain entry.

  From the trunk of the car, he pulled his micro-binoculars from his bag of clothes. He locked up the car and walked to the fence. Pausing long enough to make sure nobody would accidentally observe him, he inhaled the fresh evergreen air. Then he climbed over.

  On the ground, he moved fast with confidence and purpose. Tramping through the forest, he never once bumped into a patrol or tripped an alarm. Security appeared to be light.

  On his right, he found tennis courts. Further up, the woods stopped with an electric fence blocking the way into a grassy pasture. Two horses grazed in the dark.

  Careful to avoid a bone-jarring jolt, Nathan slipped under the electrified wires and continued a steady jog across the acreage. Two pastures later, he spied a building which had to be the stables. Keeping his distance — he didn’t want to disturb the horses and accidentally wake anybody — he followed the dark shadows of the tree line until he found a good vantage point to spy on the house.

  But it was more than a house. Even the word mansion seemed insufficient. Russo had style and money. The resulting building would have easily fit three normal-sized homes and resembled an old English estate — complete with a horseshoe, gravel drive.

  Through his binoculars, Nathan observed four guards. Each watched from a separate corner of the roof. Two more guards stood at the main double-wide doorway while a third patrolled around the house with a dog.

  As a car pulled up, one of the doorway guards stepped forward. Nathan glanced at his watch — 2:07 am. The car stopped directly in front of the doorway. Russo stepped out of the back and walked around.

  Nathan’s skin chilled at the sight of this man. The short, curled hair. The stocky build. The gold-handled cane. He wore a tuxedo this time and moved w
ith more arrogance than before.

  On the other side, the bodyguard held open the car door. Crystal emerged wearing a ball gown and looking radiant. This was no runaway. But as beautiful as she was, her eyes looked dead. Nathan wondered how long Russo had to wear her down before her imprisonment became acceptable and she would willingly go to an event that required the gown she wore.

  The chauffeur drove the car away. Russo put out his hand, and Crystal raised her arm like a well-groomed princess — playing her part exactly as instructed but lacking all emotion. Russo escorted her inside.

  Nathan scanned the area, and though he saw only two other guards, he knew there had to be more. Russo did not strike Nathan as a fool. Surely, he knew at some point, the Larkin Group would show up. Precautions had to have been taken.

  Through the house windows, Nathan watched Russo guide Crystal into the dining room. Gesturing with his cane, Russo had her prepare him a drink. Nathan wanted nothing more than to leap in that room and rip Russo to pieces. He had seen enough domestic abuse cases during his bail bondsman days — he knew the look in her eyes. Russo had broken her.

  With Crystal in such a state and the guard count unsatisfying, Nathan figured this whole operation would be more difficult than he had anticipated. A short time later, he returned to his car and drove back to the motel. As promised, Maggie had waited.

  Keeping quiet, he slipped out of his clothes and into the bed. He pulled her close against his body. She purred and kissed the back of his hand.

  “Guess this means you still need me tonight,” she said.

  “Very much so.”

  But before they could finish a single, long kiss, the door smashed open, and a metal can flew into the room. As Nathan’s brain registered the object as a flash grenade, he knew it was too late. A blinding light flashed and a concussive noise banged. Two well-armed men burst in, pointing automatic weapons and shouting.

  Nathan’s head felt as if he had been punched for hours. He found it difficult to make sense of what he saw and he could hear nothing but a sharp-pitched whine. The men grabbed Maggie, wrapped a towel around her, and put a hood over her head. The last image of her Nathan saw was mascara covered tears rolling down her face.

  When they tried to grab him, Nathan’s muscle memory took over. He popped into the air and swung his back leg around. Hooking it on the first assailant’s neck, he brought the man down with a loud thud. The other moved in with more caution, but he need not have bothered. The grenade had weakened Nathan.

  A third man tried to attack. Nathan landed a punch to the kidney, but he knew he couldn’t hold them all off. Especially when he saw a fourth man enter with a Taser.

  Rather than take the voltage, Nathan raised his hands. One man hurried behind and pinned his arms back as another approached with a hood. Just over the man’s shoulder, Nathan saw Mr. Larkin shaking his head.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nathan listened to every small sound, interpreted every jostling motion, trying to determine where they were taking him. He felt the cold metal bench as they sat him in the back of a truck. He heard heavy wheels on pavement. His body swayed with the turns, and he smelled oil. But compiling all the information and constructing it into something useful proved more difficult that he had expected.

  If he survived this, he would add that to future training — learn to fly a helicopter, learn to figure out location while hooded.

  “Legs out,” a voice commanded.

  Nathan considered fighting, but that time would have to wait until he knew more. He straightened his legs. Somebody slipped a pair of sweatpants on him.

  “Arms up,” the voice said. Moving slowly Nathan brought his arms up and accepted the sweatshirt they put on him.

  The ride became bumpy, and he heard gravel crunching beneath the truck. He also heard a soft whimper and shaking breaths. Maggie. They had taken her, too. She had remained quiet the whole ride and only now let out a slight sound before reining it back in. Never once did she beg for her life or demand to know where they were taking her or any other useless tactic most people would attempt. She did not panic. She was a tough one.

  He lost track of time, but eventually, the truck came to whining stop. A few bodies disembarked. A strong hand clasped his arm and yanked him onto the ground.

  “This way,” Mr. Larkin said, and the strong hand guided Nathan along.

  They remained outside as they walked. After a few turns and a short ride in an elevator exposed to the chilly night air, the strong hand pressed Nathan into a chair. Handcuffs locked his wrists to the chair’s arms. When the hood came off, Nathan was not surprised to see Maggie sitting across from him. She also had been given sweats to wear, and her hands were cuffed behind her, too.

  They were on an upper floor of a building under construction. Two hand-lamps hung from the ledges of girders. Rebar poked through unfinished sections of walls expected to hold immense weight. Brick and wood had been stacked nearby as well as two giant spools of wire. Hanging plastic rippled with the wind. Off to the right, Nathan saw a desk made of two sawhorses and a wide piece of plywood.

  Mr. Larkin stood near Maggie. He motioned to someone behind Nathan and said, “Move the truck around back. Make sure nobody bothers us.”

  Nathan puckered his lips. “Really, Larkin? You’re copying Russo. I mean, can’t you come up with an original way to do this? Though I suppose Octavia won’t be flying in and saving me this time.”

  “No, she won’t.”

  “At least, be decent. Maggie has nothing to do with this. Let her go.”

  Mr. Larkin tapped his rings on the plywood desk. “Not too long ago, this whole site was a warehouse for a paper mill. It was a thriving business that supported much of the town. Hundreds of people were employed and many others, maybe even this waitress, made a living taking care of those hundreds. But then the world changed. Computers, phones, tablets — all of those types of things slowly eroded the need for so much paper. Newspapers went out of business. People stopped writing letters. Industry after industry went under, each one cutting away at the viability of a paper company. Eventually, inevitably, the mill went out of business, and really, there was no other type of business that wanted a huge warehouse in the middle of the mountains. So, it sat here, rotting away.

  “Until, a young woman came along with an idea of putting an office building in the Poconos. Obviously, there were always people around who might need the space, but she planned to lure larger companies here — companies that needed offices but did not need to be in a specific location. Companies looking to add perks as incentives to new hires or to keep quality talent aboard were interested. She thought that they could offer a position in a beautiful vacation spot like these mountains, and many employees would jump at the chance. And she was right. She succeeded in selling four floors before construction began and is now watching this place rise from the ashes of the old.”

  “Lovely story. Don’t really care.”

  “Nathan, please pay attention. Immortality has many costs, but one benefit is that you know no matter what, you will never go the way of that warehouse. No matter the changes in this world, no matter the slow erosion that may occur to one life or another, you will never cease to be relevant. Even if you die, you can rise again like this office building — better than before.”

  “Then why even bother with all this? Why not let us all be what we want to be?”

  Mr. Larkin winked. “Now, you’re starting to think. Why not, indeed? What kind of evil man am I to stop your free will? I’ll tell you. I’m the kind of man who understands that if any one individual that has our gift is discovered, we all will be hunted down and experimented upon. I’m the kind of man who has lived through eras of being considered a demon, a warlock, an abomination, a specter, a vampire, and countless other names all describing whatever the locals feared the most. I’m the kind of man who has been homeless for years on end, scavenging his next meal, always starving but never able to starve to death. I’m the kind o
f man who knows what it is to be without a second soul and without a resource to gain one.” He traced the deep wrinkles of his cheek. “You don’t think I got these by choice, do you?”

  Nathan looked to Maggie. She hardly listened. Her brow had scrunched up in deep concentration. Nathan followed her stern eyes but found nothing.

  Mr. Larkin stepped into his line of sight. “After Columbus tripped over this continent, I managed to cross the Atlantic and join the New World. I managed to build my empire. And now, due to my endlessly difficult efforts and those who support the Larkin Group, I can offer to our people a way of life free of suffering, free of hunger, and free of fear. I offer that to you, too. You’ve seen my island. That’s only a fraction of what we have.”

  “Never cared much for the material things.”

  “It’s not about having things. It’s about security.”

  “I see — you offer security at the price of my freedom.”

  Mr. Larkin sighed as he flicked out a switchblade. “Keeping tabs on all of you is an important step to maintaining our protection. It’s not ideal, I admit, but when you live as long as we do, you can afford to take things slow. The Group continues to grow and evolve. Eventually, we’ll find ways to watch over everyone without impeding your precious freedom. But it can’t happen if everyone gets to run off and do whatever they want.”

  Nathan snapped his focus completely on Mr. Larkin. “You’re tracking us?”

  “Of course. All the immortal bodies we discover are giving a subcutaneous device that allows us to find you easily. Should anything happen to you, we can be there in an instant.”

  Nathan believed him — which brought up an interesting question. Why did they have such trouble finding Crystal? The answer came fast. She must have removed her tracking device.

  With the device gone, the Larkin Group would be blind. Most organizations build their procedures around their technology. Everything in the Group’s surveillance systems had grown around the accepted knowledge that all immortals were tagged with a tracking device. They had spent the last year attempting to remember the old ways of surveillance and using those to find her.