Locke 2 (Blackwater Boys #4)

Forty-Six

Jem

CRACK!

◆◆◆

“O h, fuck,” Jem groaned out when he regained consciousness. He was on the ground. He didn’t remember why, but that was fine. He’d been in similar situations before. It would come to him.

He breathed in and out, letting the memories slide into place. Kali, the drive, the face on the wall, the doctor…

Oh, yes, there it was.

Jem was scoping out the cabin. He was good at this, too. A childhood of breaking and entering homes taught him how to be stealthy. The doctor had been oblivious to his presence, and Jem had watched him go about his day like he truly was chilling at his cabin retreat. The doctor listened to Frank Sinatra as he fried himself steak and potato. Then he was outside, cutting wood, whistling to himself.

Now, this was where Jem began to connect the dots.

You should never trust a man that listened to Frank Sinatra while whistling to himself in the backwoods of his cabin. This was an unspoken rule. It didn’t need explaining.

The doctor finished his meal and then ventured out into the woods with a rifle slung over one shoulder and snare wire in another.

This was an avid hunter, Jem surmised. He knew what he was doing. He walked in the woods like he was part of it. He knew the area like the back of his hand, and that was what made Jem wary.

When doctor fucking weird disappeared out of sight to set his traps, Jem studied the land. He may not have known it, but he was comfortable in it. He wasn’t a brilliant hunter like Locke and maybe this doctor cunt, but he could read the bush like a storybook. He could take apart the fine details and notice when it had been disturbed or altered.

Like the very trail that appeared behind the cabin. The grass had been trodden through. Branches had been snapped. This was a trail that had been used regularly. It didn’t take long for Jem to find it. He didn’t take the trail, but he moved around it, reading it from afar to see where it led to.

It was a hunter’s trail.

Or a trail that led to a hole.

Even then, as he trekked it, he hoped it was the latter. It had been a long week. His mind had ventured to very dark places. He’d touched upon memories he had done his best to silence. They never went away, but like a movie, if the volume was turned off, the feelings it evoked were less of a punch in the gut.

The colour in the sky began to change, growing darker. He hurried his pace, his desire for justice and penance outweighing the voice in him telling him to slow down and take notice of his environment.

He was so hung up on the crumbs in front of him, that it became all he saw and all he could focus on.

The trail ended at a small clearing.

He didn’t step into the clearing. He hid behind the trees, gaping at the floor. His heart was beating in his ears. Another indication he needed to calm down. But he was here now, at this small patch of land, and he couldn’t differentiate between the past and the present.

The bush could look so utterly familiar. Especially when it was laid out like this. With fake patches of grass and debris strewn over the very heart of the clearing. A passerby would have walked by. They would not have looked down and noticed. They might have taken a seat with their back against the body of that big tree there and munched on an apple, oblivious to the horrors beneath them.

“Fuck, Max,” Jem whispered to himself, like Locke was there beside him. “I’m coming.”

And that was likely the purpose of this whole endeavour.

A boy stuck in a hole. He’d lured the first one all those years ago when he was just a kid, and now he was going to pull the second one out.

They were the same.

Different names, sure, but the same in that they were innocent, and they were helpless and they needed saving.

And he just wanted to fucking save him.

He didn’t think. Jem reacted impulsively. He moved to the hole that sat beneath the grass, to where the boy was—

CRACK!

◆◆◆

Oh, so that was how it happened then.

Motherfucker shot him and he had fallen to the ground.

He breathed through the pain in his stomach. Not a good place to get shot up in. Jem got shot before. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. The burn was something you didn’t forget. Then the bleeding that didn't stop without medical intervention. The inconvenient fact you needed a doctor to keep you from dying was when Jem knew he was in trouble.

Ironically, a fucking doctor shot him, so this was a cruel twist of fate.

Jem breathed long and deep. He needed to remain calm and look around. The sun was still in the sky and Kali was in the truck and he was out here—

“I recognize you,” said a happy voice. “The man from the coffee shop!”

Footsteps sounded around him.

A boot pressed into his side, and he sucked in a pained breath.

“Did you sneak to my cabin alone?” the doctor wondered, peering down at him curiously. “Or did you come with your partner in crime?”

Strangely there was no fear in that question. The handsome doctor’s face lit up with excitement.

Jem groaned.

“It’s just a graze,” the doctor said as he crouched down before him. “You’ll bleed out from it, but not for a while yet. You know,” he mused with consideration. “We could have a lot of fun in the meantime.”

Jem didn’t respond.

He was fucking shot.

He could barely breathe.

He groaned again, and the doctor nodded as though he’d spoken. “Yes, I think you like the sound of that, too. Tell you what. I’m going to find that beautiful girl you came here with. The one that hid from me in the gas station. Kari, isn’t it? You don’t forget a girl like that.”

No!

Now Jem tried to move. He tried to curse, but his mouth filled with saliva instead as pain spread throughout his body.

“That’s what I like to see,” the doctor said. “All that life!”

Jem was in a bad place, but the thought of Kali being found made him stop fighting. He needed to conserve his energy so he could lunge at this fucker before he raised that gun at him again—

“I’m not going to kill you,” the doctor said, as if hearing his thoughts. “Not yet. I’m going to find your little tart. I take it she’s looking for that boy. I wondered why she would mentioned Lenny to me in the coffee shop. I’d been so careful.” He hummed in thought. “Anyway, if she’s keen on that boy, I’m going to throw her in that hole you both were so intent on finding. In the meantime, I’ll give you a head start.” He looked down at his watch. “When I leave, I’ll start the timer. Do you feel capable of giving me a good chase?”

What the fuck?

Jem grunted, wanting to murder the fucker with his bare hands. He dropped his forehead to the ground instead and breathed deeply.

“Excellent.” The doctor stood up. “I’ll be right back, but I’m hoping you won’t be here when I am.”

Then he was gone, and Jem was alone with his violent thoughts. He needed to get to Kali before the doctor did, but the chances of that were nil.

He could hardly move. He just needed to rest.

Slowly, he turned to his side and roared in pain. His hand clutched at his stomach. He took a breath in and a breath out, but the world was spinning, and he needed to calm the fuck down.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can do this.”

He could.

He’d been shot before, remember? He could handle a graze in his stomach that actually felt like it was more than a graze and an actual giant fucking hole.

Not a big deal.

You just gotta breathe through the pain. Wasn’t that what everyone said?

He groaned and dug his hand into his pocket. He felt for Kali’s phone and pulled it out. With shaking, bleeding fingers, he swiped at the screen and attempted to phone Locke, but there was no signal.

Of course not.

He bet his phone would have worked.

“Fuck!’ he sputtered out.

He knew that was going to happen, but it still hurt.

Locke would know he was here, though. He had to be coming. He just needed to be alive before he did.

No, he needed Kali to be alive because fuck him, he didn’t care if he was breathing. He only cared that Locke didn’t lose Kali. It was the only happiness he’d ever tasted. If the doctor killed her, the Max he knew and saw flicker in him would be gone forever.

Jem didn’t need another fucking misery to be responsible for.

Shaking, he collected his breaths.

In, out.

In, out.

If this fucker wanted to hunt him, he’d have to give him a good chase.

If he was hunting him and Kali was in the hole, they might still have a chance. He just needed a signal. He needed to tell Locke about the hole.

He couldn’t risk dying with that knowledge.