Resident Evil: Abduction
Chapter Twelve
Lindy Kincaid stared helplessly at the horrifying sight before her, her freedom snatched from her while in the safety of her grandmother's home. Comfort and love were things she had always associated with this place – the house her father and aunt had grown up in. Her childhood innocence, previously marred by the death of her parents, was fully stripped from her. No longer would she look at others with trust and compassion. Suspicion and hate colored her vision. Revenge lit a fire within her, burning brighter as the moments passed. All that kept her from acting upon her desire were the bonds that secured her to the headboard of her grandmother's bed.
"Your stubbornness will gain you nothing," Skinner coolly assured as he circled the fifty-two year old Moira Kincaid.
Thick red welts left behind by the thin leather strap of the riding crop he carried now spoiled her once porcelain-like complexion. Blood trickled from each corner of her swollen and split lips. Her hair was disheveled and ratty. Both eyes swelled from the hard cracks he administered to her temples with the back of his hand. Her wrists and ankles were raw and bloodied where she strained against the ropes that held her to the wooden chair. Disgusted, he cruelly grasped her by the hair and pulled her head back so that she might look at him through the tiny slits the swelling allowed.
"Except your death," he finished, releasing her hair. Her head bobbed down to her chest as though she was nothing more than a rag doll. "And that of your granddaughter."
A moan of complete despair echoed in the dimly lit room. "There is nothing I can tell you, you monster. My daughter would not help those criminals." Her voice was weak and defeated but reaffirmed earlier statements that had resulted in beatings. "Although, I am now beginning to see who the real criminals are."
Lindy felt outside herself. She watched in horror as the freakish man backhanded her grandmother with enough force to twist her neck violently. The sickening crack that followed signaled the end of her grandmother's life. A scream ripped through the house, tearing at Lindy's eardrums. In her hysteria, she was unaware it was her own. Sobs wracked her body while she tugged at her bonds in a futile attempt to reach out to her grandmother.
"Set the charges," Skinner ordered aloofly to the trooper who stood just outside the doorway. With a nod, the man turned to carry out his orders. Skinner then turned and took two steps to stand at the edge of the bed. He reached down and cupped the girl's small chin in his hand. Her tears were warm and slick against her young skin, but they had no affect on him. She was a mere speck of dust to be swept under the carpet. Soon, she would be less than a memory...to anyone.
"Your aunt has been very naughty," he whispered. "If it's of any consequence, you should know this is her fault." He leaned down and pressed a firm, heartless kiss upon her forehead. He ran his tongue over his lips in a leisurely motion, savoring her flavor. She tasted of salt and fear. It sent a shiver of a thrill down his spine. "But in the end, it really doesn't matter, does it? You won't live to thank her for her betrayal."
121212
"Ya ain't said 'boo!' to yer mama for n'ar a year, and now you 'spect me to doct'r some l'il white girl ya drug off'a the street?"
"Mama..."
"Don'tcha 'mama' me, son. Fer all I knew, you was blowed up in that big 'ol mess in that Raccoon City you jus' hadta go and move to," she continued to complain.
LJ watched the familiar sight of his mother, one hand on her hip while she wagged a finger at him with the other, her loose ebony curls dancing around her normally friendly face. She was a petite woman, but could pack a lot of force behind her words. No one wanted to see Mama pissed off; least of all him. Especially since Jill needed help and Mama was her only chance. A real doctor was out of the question.
He smiled his charming and loving 'son' smile; the one he knew would melt right through any fury his mama might feel. Beneath the surface of her anger, he knew she was thrilled to see him, despite the circumstances that had brought him to her backdoor.
"Oh!" Mama cried in defeat while holding her arms out for a strong hug. "Ain't nuthin' I can refuse my boy."
"Thanks, Mama," LJ replied softly, hugging her once more. He pulled away and looked over at Jill's prone body sitting haphazardly in the overstuffed chair he had placed her. "Can you help her?"
"Get her int'a the back room," she insisted. "Then you know what ta do."
With a nod, LJ lifted Jill easily into his arms and headed for the room just off the kitchen. Many of the neighborhood parents owed a great deal to his mama. If not for her, more of their sons or daughters might be buried in the nearby church's cemetery. Not only was she an extremely experienced Midwife, but she had taken on additional responsibilities when warranted.
Gangs were no strangers to his hometown of Beaumont. He supposed every town had their problems, but wondered if they all carried the scars of gang fights, drive-bys, and retribution that his little section of town did. Unless the injuries were too severe for Mama to handle, it was in the family's best interest not to go to the hospital. The police investigated gunshot and knife wounds and no gang member wanted that black cloud hanging over them. The least little inkling of betrayal would sentence not only the member, but his entire family, to death. If the cops could be avoided, they were. Mama, not wanting to see the children she had known since their birth go through further harm, did what she could to help. She did not condone the gangs, but she could not refuse the children's parents.
He laid Jill down on the small, but comfortable bed. It was the only piece of furniture in the cubby of a room, save the short table that sat alongside at the head of the bed. He looked down upon his friend. Normally strong and feisty, it worried him to see her looking so weak and fragile. Shaking off his fear, he reminded himself he had work to do. Softly, he touched her forehead with the back of one finger, brushed her damp bangs from her eyes, and then pulled the blanket over her to keep her warm. "Hang in there, Valentine," he whispered, and then left her to go help his mama with the materials she would need to aid Jill.
121212
Approaching in the black of the night like a panther stalking its prey, Alice scouted the perimeter of the house without alerting the guards at either entrance. Those men that had been left at the vehicles were no longer a threat.
Deciding to go through the entrance at the back, she appeared from the shadows as though an apparition. Startled by her sudden appearance just two feet before them, the two men on guard had no chance against her. Within seconds, she closed the distance between them, ramming her closed fists into each of their throats, crushing their windpipes.
With that slight hindrance out of the way, Alice slipped through the opened doorway, and headed toward the lighted hallway and staircase. Taking each step with great care, she amazed even herself by the silence of her moves.
At the top of the stairs, a man outfitted in trooper gear was kneeling on the landing, hunched over in the midst of his task with his back to her. As she stepped around him, she noted the device and smiled maliciously.
"Hey there," she whispered in a mock seductive tone as she crouched in front of the man. His last vision as his head snapped up was of a stunningly beautiful redhead just before her forehead smashed into the bridge of his nose, killing him instantly.
"Damn it, Cantano, where is that bomb?" Skinner bellowed, turning on his heel. He was unprepared for the sight that awaited him and took a reflexive step backward.
Alice grinned cockily, holding the explosive device balanced on the palm of one hand while dangling the detonator precariously between two fingers. "You lookin' for this?"
"What the h..." Skinner growled. He lunged forward and swept at the detonator.
Alice chuckled and pulled her hand from his reach. "Uh uh uh...Naughty boy," she scolded while kicking out and connecting with his private parts. "You'll get it when I'm ready to give it to you."
Her laugh sent a chill of fear down Skinner's spine; something he was quite unused to feeling. No one had ever intimidated him, but something about this little slip of a woman scared the living daylights out of him.
"Alice..." he groaned, slumping to the floor.
"The one and only," she quipped dryly.
In a matter of seconds she had taken in her surroundings – the dead woman slumped forward, bound to the chair, and the young girl tied up on the bed. She didn't need to be told of the torture, she could well imagine what had happened here.
Crouching down in front of Skinner, who was gasping for air and continued to moan in pain while clutching his tender bits, Alice seized his coarse hair and jerked his head up. "You enjoy a good game, I see," she commented smartly. "Let's have some fun."
Releasing his head, she grasped him by the neck, enjoying the defeated groan he made when she tightened her grip, cutting off his air supply. With little effort, she lifted him up to his knees as she rose to her feet, and as if he weighed little more than a feather, she tossed him across the room to crash into a chest of drawers that sat just inside the doorway.
He grunted with the blow, but Alice was oddly delighted that he did not lose consciousness. She set the bomb atop the dresser and while holding him in place with her foot on his chest, she reached over and removed the rope that held the woman to the chair. Inwardly she cringed as the girl on the bed cried out when the woman fell forward and hit the floor with a dull thud.
"Sorry, kid," she acknowledged quickly before focusing on Skinner. She forced him into a sitting position against the dresser and then looped the length of rope around both it and him, knotting the rope tightly enough to allow him very little upper body movement. She then opened one of the smaller drawers near his head and set the bomb inside. Her lips curved in a cruel smile and she tucked a lock of her auburn hair behind one ear as she looked down upon the now sniveling Major.
Placing her hand over his mouth, her thumb resting on one cheek and her fingers on the other, she squeezed harshly, forcing his head against the dresser. "They won't be able to put you back together, Humpty," she promised. "Give Cain my regards."
Pushing away, she hurried to the bed and began untying the girl. "Gotta hurry, kid. No telling if more of these goons will show up," she explained when the girl looked up at her with sad, questioning eyes.
Skinner, frustrated and scared, glared angrily as he silently vowed he would not be the only one to lose his life this night. Ignoring his discomfort, he used what little movement his position allowed and managed to reach inside his suit jacket.
"No reinforcements will be necessary, you perverted lab rat," he snarled.
Alice spun toward the doorway where she had tied Skinner as she grasped the girl by the wrist and pulled her from the bed to stand beside her. In his hand, she saw a detonator identical to the one she grasped. "Fuck!" she screamed.
Alice tugged violently on the girl's arm, dragging her to the bedroom window as she ran. With all her strength, she leapt, turning in midair, placing her back to the window. At the same time, she pulled the girl into her embrace, protecting her as best she could. But even before Alice hit the cold glass and wood pane she heard Skinner's demented laugh and the click of the detonator as he triggered the device. She closed her eyes, gripping the child fiercely as the deafening sound split the silence of the night. At that moment she heard her own voice mocking her. Too late...
...to be continued.