The Reaper: No Mercy Page 10

  "Of course!" Tony replied, his crazy grin poking out for a split second before he stilled his face. Keep calm, stay calm, he told himself. He needed this desperately, and was too close to blow it now. He did not know these men. Not even their names; most of the gang didn't care about much of anything like that, yet they were deadly. His memory did not keep details like names anyway. His mind only kept memories of the pain he’d inflicted, and already he could feel his groin hardening, the anticipation building.

  "OK, put all your weapons on the table. Nothing's going inside but you. If you don't come out, shit happens," another replied, flipping him off.

  "All of them?" and when both nodded, Tony reluctantly placed his guns and knives on the table set just outside the entrance. The others eyed him, then nodded. The first he had spoken with unlocked the door, and eagerly Tony went inside.

  The interior was gloomy, with a set of stairs directly before him, a lantern of some sort illuminated the bottom landing. Eagerly he traversed the steps and entered the main holding area. Huddled forms crouched along the walls and the corridor ahead. Most were covered in blankets, but the stench of urine and feces filled the air as he skirted the waste buckets looking for his prey. There she was!

  *****

  Heidi shrunk back against the wall as the wild-looking man approached. Her prepubescent body curled in on itself in a semi-fetal position as she vainly tried to become invisible. She had been dreading this moment. She had seen these bad men looking at her in what her mother would have called an unhealthy way. She was only eleven but she was not stupid, and dreaded the worst. She was also hungrier than she had ever been in her life. The bad men had been feeding them, but it was never enough.

  When the end came, and her parents had died protecting her from the weird others, she had hidden. Terrified and alone, she had no idea what to do, so stayed with the familiar. She had hidden in her home as long as she could. But then the food ran out, and she'd been forced to scavenge for her next meal by entering the dwellings nearby. Upon entering one of those, she'd surprised an elderly couple who quickly accepted her into their arms. That had been a heaven of sorts, until they left the city, and the bad men had found them. Royce and Margaret had been killed in front of her eyes, and she had been captured. Now she waited for the end. She had little hope left for rescue, having been down in these dirt and rock tunnels for over a week. She only hoped that when the end did finally come she would see her parents again, and to this end, she prayed constantly. She begged the Lord for salvation and courage, with a forlorn hope born of innocence that one day she would be freed, with life returning to normal. However, right now the crazy-looking man's hand was stretching towards her, and to her frightened eyes the clutching fingers looked like claws.

  "Come child. They need help in the kitchen. I was sent to fetch you." He was talking to her in a low crooning voice, which scared her more than anything, and in fact, was freaking her out.

  "Leave her alone. Take me. I'll help. You don't need the child." Another woman, dirty, disheveled, and emaciated from the low rations they were given, had stepped forward. Boldly she let the blanket she'd wrapped around her small frame fall to the ground, and Heidi hid her eyes, for under the thin blanket the lady was wearing no clothing. The woman stepped closer and tried to reach out to the man before her, but he slapped her across the face hard, knocking her to the ground.

  "No. The kitchen said to get someone young! You're too old and useless, and I'm just doing my job," the man replied, a sadistic grin lighting his face. Then Heidi was in his grasp as his hand tightened around her wrist.

  "I swear, if you hurt her ..." one of the younger men started to say as he rose to his feet slowly. They were all weak from hunger, and Heidi realized he was moving as fast as his body allowed.

  "Relax, it's just a bunch of dishes and shit. She'll be back in a little bit. Trust me!" and then the man was dragging her to her feet and she cried out in pain at the roughness of his grip.

  "How is that even possible with you keeping us prisoner and killing our friends?" responded the young man again, but Heidi noticed with dread that he was settling back against the wall, exhausted. Her own whimpers were being ignored and she felt so helpless.

  "Please mister. I don't want to go. I want to stay here." She had finally spoken. Her voice was tiny and weak, but she was more scared than hungry.

  "The kitchen needs your help so you're going. Now shut up and come along." Heidi gulped and reluctantly went along, not that she had a choice, then grimaced in pain as the man kept jerking on her wrist. An empty stomach kept gnawing at her, and desperately she looked up again.

  "Will I get extra to eat? I'm so hungry!" Her one hope was that if they put her to work, maybe they would give her more to eat. She was so very hungry, after all.

  "Yes girl, I will give you something. Don't worry." With that, she found herself being dragged up the stone steps to the outside. Innocently she held strong to the hope that she could perform a few chores, and maybe get something to eat in the process.

  "I'll bring her back in a bit. She has kitchen duty." The crazy man said to one of the four guards outside the entrance as they exited the underground confinement. The air was cold, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to conserve heat. Why they had taken her coat she didn't know, but it was freezing out in the open.

  "Kitchen duty, good one. Gonna feed her something?" another of the strange brutal men guffawed, and she cringed from his loud voice, her eyes huge as she tried to get near the burning barrel for its warmth. If only she could feel the heat for a moment, maybe the shivering would stop. Her steps were jerked short by the man holding her wrist, and again she found herself being dragged away from the others.

  Soon, the big brick fence was in front of them and she wondered for a moment if she was to be set free. She didn't think so, because they had not given her coat back, but maybe? Wait! Where was this man taking her? The lights of the main buildings were to her right, yet she was being dragged to the left, close to the fence surrounding their captivity, where trees and undergrowth were heavy. Her heart sank, while a heavy surreal feeling overcame her. She wasn't stupid, after all. She was eleven.

  Then she was being thrown down on the ground, hard enough to hurt her shoulders and back badly, and gazed upward into the night sky, her mind awhirl. She screamed for help and called out for her mother, even knowing Momma wasn't there, and would never be there again. Then the man's hand hit her, hard, while doing more bad things to her, and suddenly she knew the end was near. As her clothing was ripped from her tiny body, she didn't feel the cold anymore, and hunger no longer had any meaning as her mind shut down. She accepted what she knew without doubt would be death's embrace, and as her vision darkened, she had a fleeting vision. A vision of an older man, dressed in camouflage clothing, dropping through the sky towards them. His visage furious, with flaming eyes and clenched teeth, his gaze focused only on the man crouching over her ... hurting her. Then darkness became her friend.

  *****

  Chapter 11

  Tony was in ecstasy. He was doing what he loved to do. Terrorizing and hurting those smaller and weaker than he was. Too bad he could not kill her. Or maybe he could. He had his knife in one hand just as the other held her tiny form down against the frozen ground. The knife was one he had not given to the guards earlier, for he always kept at least one knife hidden. Now he flipped the razor open and watched with glee as it sliced through her clothing and skin beneath. The tiny dimples of blood as each article of clothing was cut away excited him even further, and as his breathing sped up, he deliberately slowed his actions. He was not in a hurry. He would enjoy taking his time, for it made the end that much sweeter.

  The girl was screaming now, and calling for her mommy. This was nirvana to his ears, as Tony accepted her whimpers as applause for his performance. He was keyed up now, and eager to start hurting her, for hurt her he would. It was impossible to wipe the crazy grin off his face. No one c
ould see him now but this tiny bitch under him, and he so loved letting his emotions show.

  Then something hard hit Tony from the side, and suddenly he was flying to the left. As he opened his mouth to shout, a leather glove covered his face while at the same time he felt a rope tighten around his neck. Suddenly he could not breathe, and his fingers desperately clawed at the noose choking him while he thrashed on the ground trying to break free. Now Tony was scared, really scared, and helpless when he felt the ground fall away as his body rose into the air.

  *****

  The faint cries for help were from someone very young, and the Reaper, disregarding caution, ran forward. It was not in his nature to ignore an innocent plea for rescue, damn the cost. The appeals for help were still coming from ahead, but more to the side now; the voice though weaker, was gaining urgency.

  "Someone please help. Mommy, help me!" The Reaper's teeth clenched, and seeing the pines near the wall, he signaled Schuster to follow before scaling the closest quickly after leaving his sniper rifle leaning against its bole. Peering over the edge of the fence, the sight beneath him, illuminated by moonlight, was almost more than Jason could bear. A grown man crouched over a small child while cutting her clothing away with what looked like a straight edge razor knife. In the distance, he heard men and even a few women laughing aloud, a few sporadic gunshots along with rock music that was still blasting out from somewhere within the cemetery. However, the Reaper simply didn't care at this point—a small, innocent life needed saving, and without delay. He acted without hesitation.

  "I need a slip hitch now! Get your rope ready," Jason hissed at Schuster as he stepped off the limb to crouch on top of the eight-foot brick wall. What was unusual about the marauders’ entire defense was that they had only fastened razor wire to the front row of fence line, while completely neglecting the sides and perhaps the back. The Reaper was not sure about the later, and at this point simply did not care. He was armed with his Colt and his K-Bar, which was attached to and hanging upside down on his old-style olive drab combat vest. This he quickly drew, holding it blade downward in his fist before looking over his shoulder to Shue. Thank the Lord the man had the rope ready, and with an urgent motion, Jason signaled for it to be tossed upward. He thought it unlikely he would be heard as the girl’s numbed pleas and the evil man's own satanic laughter were sure to drown out any noise he might make.

  "Get ready to pull it tight when I signal!" the Reaper whispered again to Schuster who stood directly below him, and instantly light tension was applied. Not enough to impede the Reaper, but firm enough to pull sharply when Jason gave the signal. To Schuster’s side, the Reaper saw Hamilton and Barber were already scaling the same pine he had used, obviously getting ready to assist if needed. They were all being deathly quiet while at the same time operating with urgent speed, for the risk of discovery was great, but the innocent life standing on death's immediate door overshadowed that danger.

  As the Reaper gazed downward on the far side of the fence, he saw the living spawn of Satan almost directly below him. The knife, clenched tightly in his evil hand, was again working at removing the girl’s clothing as she laid motionless beneath him. The Reaper gripped the rope tightly in his free hand before flinging himself over the far side of the fence into the cemetery. The fall was only eight feet, and he hit the ground while throwing himself forward into a jump roll, his feet lashing outward at the man as Jason revolved to a stop. The other was flung sideways with an explosion of breath as the Reaper's boots impacted his body in the upper chest and lower stomach. Instantly Jason was up and leaping over the girl's prone form, his knife hand extended until the razor sharp edge of the K-Bar rested against the would-be rapist's neck while his forearm lay hard against this man's chest, holding him in place.

  "Move, or make any sound, and you're dead," he growled. The low tone emanating from him was that of death itself, and from the fright in this man's eyes and his frantic nodding, the Reaper knew he would remain quiet. That was not the plan, however, and with his free hand Jason quickly drew the makeshift noose around the man’s neck before jerking hard on the rope. Immediately the hemp went taut, and the evil being disguised in the flesh of humankind was dragged to the fence.

  The Reaper ignored the thrashing man, who was desperately clawing at his throat while being raised upward and over the brick wall. The little girl he did not ignore, and urgently he searched her vital signs, praying to the Lord to help this little girl. As his fingers gently touched her neck, he quickly found a pulse, then examined her eyes. Thankfully, the pupils dilated when he shown a tiny pen light into those amber orbs. Just in shock, he thought to himself as he surveyed the victim of an abuse she would not soon forget.

  Time was of the essence. They needed to get out of here, and now, before they were discovered, but her clothing was in tatters and the Reaper knew that with the thirty degree temperatures, hypothermia would soon set in if he didn't do something. Working with a haste belying his years, he quickly unzipped his combat vest, removed the newly-acquired camouflage coat beneath, then re-donned the vest. The coat he quickly wrapped around the girl, zipping it closed, and lifting her, carried her quickly to the wall. The rapist had already been pulled over to the other side, and only Barber was visible, now crouched at the top as the Reaper had been earlier. Jason hoped the soldiers hadn't killed the evil one yet as he had something special in store as the Lord's punishment.

  "Barber. She's in shock. Catch her," he urgently whispered, and with that he tossed the girl’s light frame straight upward into Barber’s waiting arms. The tiny girl, who normally should have weighed at least sixty-five to seventy pounds, was emaciated from obvious malnutrition, and the Reaper was willing to bet she didn't even weigh forty-five at this moment. Barber caught her easily and disappeared from view as Jason turned back and quickly pocketed any evidence of their presence he could find. His beloved K-Bar was slid back in its sheath, and the small utensils the rapist had been using he tucked in a side pocket of his fatigues, as well as the remaining shreds of the girl's clothing. If they were lucky, any others within would think this man took off with the girl. He could only trust the Lord's will on that, and with a leap hoisted himself over the edge, falling softly to the ground outside. There, Barber waited with the girl, and gently the Reaper gathered her up in his own arms, cradling her to his chest. Beside them he saw that SSG Schuster and PFC Hamilton had not only tied, but also gagged their villain thoroughly, and the Reaper smiled grimly.

  "Carry him and follow.” With that, he was striding straight north across the frontage road and into a farmer's field surrounding by a sparse stand of trees. After several hundred yards, he cast about, searching for something, and he soon found it. There! The moonlight was bright, and he almost instantly spotted the forms of three zombies. The minions of hell usually traveled in packs larger than this, so he knew others would be close by. He stopped near a small stand of trees, and the others beside him dropped the thrashing form of the man who would have destroyed the young girl’s life. Turning to Barber, the Reaper handed her back silently, then reached down, grabbed the ropes securing the man's arms, and dragged him towards the spawn along the wood’s edge while muttering to the others, "Wait here!"

  The devil’s spawn were becoming easy to spot, but while spotting them had its advantages it usually meant they were spotted in return, and yes, the zombies were moving from their hiding niches, and into the open on a direct path with the Reaper’s movements. Jason knew he had only minutes at the most, and worked quickly. He stopped and, turning to the man, intoned.

  "The Lord has found you wanting, and for that you will be punished."

  "Mffgghhs … mffffooggghhff." The words were garbled and muted, for the cloth gag secured in the man's mouth was doing its job. With a twist of his wrist, the Reaper flipped the pleading man over. He placed a boot in the small of his back, reached down and grasped the man by his forearms and jerked upward, instantly dislocating both shoulders, then kicked the screaming ma
n over onto his back again. A swift stomp to both knees resulted in either dislocations or breakage, then the Reaper was once again pulling his K-Bar. The man's muffled screams and thrashing he ignored. This man would be punished and take his dying memories to Hell, where he would reside for eternity. With sure movements, he sliced through the man's belt and pants before pulling them downward with a jerk, leaving him lying prone on his back, unable to move for the pain in his upper body. There, that should do it, the Reaper thought, and running swiftly back to the others, they left his scene of judgment. Yes, he wanted to make an example of this man steeped in the darkest of sins, but refrained. More good would be forthcoming if he was not found, and Jason was content that those he serviced in the name of the Lord were receiving his justice.

  The Reaper looked around, safe within the tree line, and briefly watched as the zombies converged on the form laying on the ground, then looked to the right and left. Since they were several hundred yards away from the cemetery and hidden within a thick stand of trees, he knew that if this man's body were found it would not be anytime soon. The zombies themselves would reduce the man’s corpse to mere bones within hours, thus making it unidentifiable, and Jason was content as he turned back to the others.

  *****

  The pain was incredible. Never in Tony's short life had he experienced anything like it. In one moment he had been in control of a helpless victim, ready, willing, and able to torture and rape her. In the next, he found himself lying on the frozen earth of a field, sharp stones digging into his back, unable to move. Moving made the pain in his arms and knees so much worse. He just knew they were broken, and hoped Ringo's men would find him soon. He also worried about that because he knew Ringo didn't like wounded. Wait. What was that? As the form loomed over him, he tried to scream in terror, but the sound was muffled for the gag was thick and tightly fastened. The undead had arrived. There were three of them, and to one side he could see five more approaching.