The Following:
Peace, Love, and Happiness
Episode 13: Weak and Powerless
Even though Amable was far from the attack, he still had an uneasy feeling. He doubted that Molly followed him and even more so knew where he was going. His family knew about the safe house he was going to as well as Joe, Dr. Straus also knew but since the both of them were in prison, it didn't really matter.
Dr. Straus showed him the house when he decided to share his love for murder. He was able to see how dangerous Amable could be. He brought in a young prostitute who was so desperate for money, he paid her to just show up. Amable came later and was told to torture her. She was bound by her ankles and wrists to a table. At first Amable couldn't do it. He wanted to. He really did. But since this would be his first kill he was scared. He was barely sixteen at the time.
Dr. Straus told him not to worry and that the thing he needed to do was to build a connection with his weapon of choice. That weapon was a dangerous looking Smith and Weston. Amable remembered holding on to it, noting how much heavier it felt than it actually looked. It was cold, sleek and mean looking. Handle was four inches with a steel, yet bumpy grip. The blade was sharp, could cut through bone like butter.
The longer he looked at the knife, the lighter it grew. The brighter it grew. The more enticing it grew. He flicked it open and then closed it. He did it once more, before he took a few steps toward her. He looked at her, noting her fearful eyes. She tried to beg, but the moment she did, Dr. Straus told her to shut up. He then began to slowly motivate Amable who held the knife tightly in a trembling hand.
Amable took a step toward her and lowered the knife to her throat. She whimpered fearfully as he traced the dull part of the knife down her neck to her shoulder and then finally down her arm. When he got to her elbow, he took a deep breath and began to cut her. She screamed out in pain as blood dripped out of the cut and on the table. He stopped cutting for a few moments, staring at her weep.
Dr. Straus told her to stop crying, a bit more forceful this time. She stopped crying, but was now whimpering. He told Amable to continue, which he did. He cut down to her wrist and then walked around the table to her other side. He slowly traced the dull part of the knife down her neck to her shoulder and to her elbow. He then began to cut until he came to her wrist. When he got there he promptly stopped.
Amable stopped thinking about his first kill as he approached the two story house. He stopped the car and stared through the car window. Large trees surrounded the house and driveway for miles around keeping it hidden. A large patio was in the front of the house, desperately needing some cleaning and repair. The windows were covered in dirt and cobwebs. The paint, peeling in certain areas.
He pulled up to the house and stepped out of the car. He approached the trunk of the car and opened it. He gave Claire a playful look and then winked at her. She rolled her eyes and as much as she could through the tape, she begged him to help her out. He did just that.
"You know what I like about this place," He asked her rhetorically as they walked up to the house. He held on to her arm tightly. "I like how far away it is from civilization." He opened the front door and stepped inside. He sniffed loudly and then looked at her with a laugh. "We are truly alone. Some well earned peace and quiet."
Claire tried to say something, but the tape prevented her from doing so. Everything came out garbled.
Amable grabbed a corner of the tape and tore it off quickly. She cursed in pain and pulled away from him. He let her go and she collapsed on the floor. She stood up on shaky legs as he grabbed her again, tighter this time.
"Even if you run," He sneered, "There is no place for you to go."
Claire glanced out the window to his car. "I could steal the car and drive away," She said giving him a snobby look.
"You can do that," He said with a shrug as he pulled her to the basement. He opened the door and turned on the lights. "But come on, what would that get you?" He gave her a twisted look. "There is only one place you really will be going." He motioned toward the stairs.
"You can't be serious?" Claire asked giving him a questioning look. "This is such a big house." She tried to be as kind as possible hoping that it would cause him to change his mind. "This is such a large house and there are so many rooms."
Amable grinned at her poor attempt. "Yes that is true. This is a big house. With lots of rooms." He gave her slight push downstairs. "But the basement is so much comfier."
Claire glared at him as he pushed her again. She turned around and walked down the remainder of the stairs. She wondered how far she would actually get if she stole the car. First she would have to get through him. But even with him injured, he was still stronger than her. It seemed the only way to go, was in the basement.
The basement was small. Quite small for the size of the house. Unless there was more to the basement she wasn't seeing. The stairs led to a small hallway which led to two rooms. Both were locked. He opened the left door and pointed inside.
"Hope it is cozy," She said without a care as she stepped inside.
The room was simply decorated. There was a twin bed that had seen better days. An old and chipped looking dresser. A cracked mirror hung on the wall, its reflection of the wall opposite of it showing peeling wall paper.
"I believe in due time," Amable said in a low tone that sent a tremor up her spine. "You soon will."
With that, Amable shut the door loudly. He locked it and then walked upstairs. He locked the basement door and then walked to the den, where the mini bar was at. He poured himself a double shot of scotch and then walked to the window. He walked to the window and peered through it looking at his car. He took a sip of scotch, praying that he would see a car pull up, full of the rest of his family.
Mike took a few steps toward Mark with his gun still aimed at him. He could end it quickly right now, just by shooting him. But that would not do him any justice. It wouldn't make him feel any better. Killing him slowly by his own hands would work.
Mark stepped away from the table with fear in his eyes. He raised his hands and said, "Don't shoot. I'm unarmed."
Mike shook his head. "I am not going to shoot you" He said coldly. "But you are going to die."
The fear that was in Mark's eyes instantly vanished. He smiled at him. "So who else is here?" He sneered. "Ryan? That sexy girlfriend of yours?" He took a step toward Mike. "You know I fantasize about doing nasty things to her." He licked his lips as if to emphasize the matter.
"Shut up," Mike said dangerously as he waved the gun at him.
"Usually after I kill her though," He continued to tease. "It is no fun when she is alive." He laughed loudly.
Mike had enough of this. He set his gun on the counter and then tackled Mark who was still laughing. He punched him in the stomach and then the face, before rising to his feet. He raised his hands ready to fight.
Mark stood up smiling and spat blood on the floor. "How's your dad doing?" He asked mocking him. "Oh right. I killed him." He pretended to cut his throat with his index finger. He made choking sounds. "But you already knew that."
Mike knew that Mark was trying to nerve him. Trying to make him lose his guard. He shook his head. "How's your mother doing?" He asked with a twisted smile. "Oh right, I shot her." He took a step toward him and used his index finger and thumb in the shape of a gun. He pointed at his chest pretending to shoot. "Many times."
Mark's smiled vanished. He looked at him suddenly sad. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead swiped at Mike. Mike blocked it with his left forearm and punched Mark in the throat. Mark reached for his throat coughing and sputtering. He stumbled backward colliding into the table.
"You never answered my question though," Mark said hoarsely as he massaged his aching throat. "Who else is with you?"
Mike gave him a slight smile. "Ryan is outside waiting for my call." He took a step toward him. "There is a whole unit out there, just waiting for my call. This is it. You are going to prison to rot there for the rest of your miserable life."
"You are lying," Mark said shaking his head. He wagged his finger at him. He saw Luke standing behind Mike pointing to the gun on the counter.
"Maybe I am," Mike said with a playful smile. "Maybe I am not."
"Take the gun," Luke said his brother. "Shoot the bastard."
Mark gulped and stepped toward Mike. "Well then I guess we will have to find out," He said winking at his brother.
Mark dove at Mike shoving him into the counter. In the process he made a swipe for the gun, knocking it on to the floor. He cursed as Mike palmed him in the face and then punched him in the stomach again. It knocked the wind out of him and he collapsed to the floor laughing.
"Get up Mark," Luke begged. "Get up and kill him."
Mark looked at his brother who continued to push him. "I am trying," He said to his brother with a groan.
Mike looked in the direction where Mark was looking, but obviously saw nothing. He reached for his gun and pointed it at him. "You are insane Mark," He said taking a step toward him. "Where should I put a bullet in you?" He took a step toward him and thought about where to shoot him. "No that would be too easy." He shook his head.
Mike set the gun on the counter again and then tackled Mark to the floor. He pinned him there and began to rain punches in his face. "You killed my dad in cold blood," He shouted.
Mark used both his legs and wrapped them around Mike's neck. He threw him off of him and then stood up on shaky legs. "You killed my mom," He said spitting out blood. His cheek was aching and began to swell. "You are no saint either."
Mike raised his hands ready to fight. "I never said I was," He said breathing heavily. "But only one of us is coming out alive here and that isn't you."
"Grab the gun and shoot him," Luke said to his brother. He pointed to the gun on the counter. "Pop. Right in the head and he will be done."
"Stop it Luke," Mark said loudly. He looked at his brother and shook his head. "Damn it, why don't you pick it up and shoot him?"
Luke didn't answer, but pointed to a bullet wound that suddenly appeared on his forehead. He stuck his finger deep into it. "I can touch my brain," He said with a brain dead sound. His eyes went into opposite directions like in the cartoons for a few moments before he laughed loudly.
"Don't do that man," Mark said making a face, "That is gross."
Mike continued to look at Mark weirdly, wondering what the matter with him was. Mark suddenly dove at the gun, but missed again. Mike got to it first and pointed it at him. Mark raised his hands in the air. He began to beg for his life with fake tears.
"Shut up," Mike said not fazed. He shot at him, hitting him the hand. The bullet tore off three of his fingers. Blood splattered on the floor, counter, and even on the table.
Mark cried out in pain, blood oozing out of the wounds. He looked at his hand and then began to laugh crazily. He stumbled toward Mike and then fell on top of him. Blood got all over Mike, who didn't move fast enough. He collapsed on the floor with Mark on top of him. Mark giggled like a hyena as he splattered blood all over Mike's face.
Mark then leaned closed and bit him in the ear taking a large chunk out of it. Mike cried out in pain and shoved him off of him. Mark spat out the part of his ear and then smiled at him, his mouth full of his blood. Some of it dripped down his chin and on to the floor.
Mike growled and grabbed him by the throat. He slammed his head on to the floor, now just wanting to end his life. He continued slamming his head on the floor, ignoring the voice suddenly calling out to him. He was in a blur now and only wanted to kill Mark. After what seemed like an eternity, he let go and stood up on shaky legs.
"Mike," He heard someone call out to him again.
Mike turned and saw Max standing a few feet from him, staring at him concerned and horrified. He looked at Mark who was covered in blood, with the back of his head smashed so badly that it was clearly dented. Parts of his brains were on the floor. He looked back at Max, unsure what to tell her knowing that he may have done something really bad.
Jacob knew he had to be brave. Not only for him, but mainly for his sister. He didn't know how he would get out of wherever he was or if he would stay alive. All he knew was that he was the one to protect his little sister and he would do just that.
He thought back to when he was first brought here. Molly had Tyler bring them to this small room in her house. He tied them to chairs and left alone in the dark. It seemed like hours, but it could have been minutes. Or even days. He didn't know. He lost track of time.
"Ashley," He looked at his sister who was in the chair a few feet away from him. "Ashley?"
Ashley slowly turned her head to look at him through the hair that was blocking her face. She continued to cry, the tears blurring her vision. Her lower lip trembled fearfully.
"I need you to listen to me," Jacob said holding back the fear and the tears. He didn't want to cry in front of her. He had to be strong. "Ashley. You need to be brave. You have to." He took a deep breath finding it hard to keep his emotions at check. "I promise I will get you out of here."
Ashley continued to cry, but was trying to do what he was telling her to do. She took a deep breath trying to swallow her emotions, but was having a hard time doing so. She was just too scared.
"We have to be strong," Jacob continued. He heard footsteps approaching. "We need to."
Jacob stopped talking and looked at the door as it opened. Molly walked in and looked at them with instant remorse. "Oh this will just not do," She said turning on the light. "I can't believe he just left you here like this." He shook her heard. "Like wild animals."
She approached Ashley and began to untie her ankles and arms. The whole time she kept glancing at her, before she moved to her brother. She untied him as well and then stepped out of the room for only a moment, to return carrying two trays. Each of them had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a pickle, and a bag of potato chips.
"I must apologize for Tyler," Molly said with an apologetic smile. "He means well, but can be short sighted at times."
Jacob scanned the room they were in. There was a small twin size bed a few feet from where they were sitting. Beside that was a small dresser with only three drawers. On top of that was a small lamp as well as an alarm clock.
Molly placed the trays on the bed and then gave the two of them a small smile. "Please eat," She kindly said. "You guys must be starving."
Jacob looked at her with distrust, while Ashley looked at the tray hungrily. She noticed Jacob shaking his head no at her, so she refrained herself from eating. "Who are you?" Jacob asked stepping in front of his sister and Molly trying to protect her.
"My name is Molly," She said gently. "You are Jacob." She looked at Ashley with a smile. "You are Ashley." She took a step toward them. "Now please eat." She looked at the food briefly. "I know you guys are starving. So please eat."
Ashley looked at the tray again, but didn't move toward it. Jacob continued to look at her with distrust, but only for a few moments. He turned toward the bed and then grabbed a tray with a trembling hand. He handed his sister the tray and then reached for the sandwich. Molly watching the both of them intently as they ate in silence. Ashley stood close to her brother, looking at the floor as she took small bites of the sandwich.
"Good," Molly said pleased that they were eating. She turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door. She looked back at the two of them, who were watching her intently. "I want you to know that I am not the bad person that you think I am." She smiled at them. "I am a pretty nice person." With that she left the room and locked the door behind her.
Amable was awoken from a deep sleep when he heard a car pull up outside. He sat up in bed feeling a bit hung over, but ignored the feeling. Instead he stood up and stumbled toward the window. The opened the blinds peering outside, but only saw blur. It was too bright for him to see.
It took a few moments, but his eyes soon adjusted and he saw to his immense relief Annabelle step out of the car. He smiled and turned away from the window. He made his way downstairs and opened the front door, just as Annabelle was stepping up. She burst out crying when she saw him and gave him a tender hug.
Amable began to cry as well as he kissed her on the top of the head. They stood there for a few moments, before she let go and looked around the house. To her left was the den, which was richly decorated. It had two leather couches, a recliner, large screen TV, and a small fire place. On the walls were pictures of nature.
Opposite of the den, was a large and up to date kitchen filled with all the top of the line cooking items. The kitchen had a small hallway at the end of it, which led to the backyard. There was also a doorway that led to the basement. Next to the kitchen was a staircase that led to the second floor, where the bedrooms were located.
"Annabelle my dear," Amable asked as he followed her into the den. "Where is everyone else?"
Annabelle turned around and gave him a pained look. "Charlene is dead," She said teary eyed. "And Jacob and Ashley." She shook her head. "Molly took them."
A wave of pain and horror washed over him. "Molly has them?" He asked looking at her in disbelief.
Annabelle sighed and ran a hand through her messy hair. "I searched for them," She said thinking back to it. "I looked all over the house. Everywhere." She paused for a few moments. "But I didn't find them."
"And Charlene?" Amable asked in a shaky voice. "What happened to her?"
Annabelle sighed again. "By the time I had gotten to her," She said sadly, "She had been shot already." She didn't tell him how she fell from the second floor. "I buried her in the backyard, beside Tim and Cruz."
"I'm so sorry," Amable said shaking his head in dismay. He blinked away tears. He made a fist and turned away from her. He closed his eyes as a tear trailed down his cheek. "My family." He stammered. "My family."
Annabelle stepped in front of him. "Where did you go?" She asked looking at him intensely. "I saw you run out after that grenade blast. Right before I passed out, I saw you running away." She took another step toward him. "Why did you leave?"
Amable sighed and opened his eyes. "I don't know what I was doing," He said thinking back to it. "Everything was happening so fast and with that grenade blast, I lost it for a few moments. I tried to look for you, but when I didn't see you, I feared the worst." He paused for a few and sighed loudly. "I thought everyone had died, so I went running."
Annabelle turned away from her father cursing under her breath. "You left us there to die?" She asked angrily. She couldn't look at him.
"I'm sorry," Amable said feeling regret.
"Oh please," Annabelle snapped. She paced around the den frustrated. "You ran to get Claire? Didn't you?"
"Yes I did," Amable said feeling sorry for what he did.
Annabelle gave him a harsh look. "You chose to save her over the rest of your family?" She asked him annoyed. "How could you?"
"I told you already," Amable said trying to defend himself.
"Forget about," Annabelle said turning away from him. She ignored him calling out to her. "I need some fresh air." She didn't even second glance as she left him standing there in the den alone.
Ryan turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall enjoying the feeling of the water against his sore muscles. His mind drifted to Claire. He was feeling horrible about once again coming so close, yet so far. First with Joe, then Molly, and now Amable. He always worked so hard, yet constantly came up short.
"All I ever wanted was for my name to live forever. I think I've probably accomplished that."
Ryan though back to a line that Joe once told him and at first he didn't believe him, but now he saw how correct he was when he said that. Joe wanted to be remembered forever and he will be, even after he dies. Every unspeakable horrific act that he committed would be remember forever. People now were killing in his name and he saw no end in it. How can one forget someone, who compares himself to the devil?
Joe was unlike anyone he ever met in his life. He could lie straight to your face and you would never know it. Most liars, even the best, always had some sort of a glint in their eyes that most often gave themselves away. Not Joe though. He had the best poker face. Not only that, but he was incredibly intelligent and that is what scared him the most.
Out of everyone that knew Joe, Ryan knew him best. Even more than Claire. She knew him, but was blinded by him. Ryan though, seemed to be the only one that could see right through him. He could predict his every step, but that was to a point. When he was with the FBI, he was a puppet on strings. Even now, his strings have been loosened a lot more, there are still lines he can't cross.
"Infamy will ensure that I will live on forever."
Ryan could hear that line in Joe's voice and it sent a shiver through his spine. He turned the water a bit hotter and then sighed. He wanted it to end more than anything. But even if it did, would he ever be able to move on? A desk job? A cottage in the mountains? Watching the Jets on Sunday? Yankees? Knicks? That wasn't him. That was too normal. Too boring. He seemed to always be on the front lines.
Ryan heard the bathroom door open and Carrie enter. She removed her clothes and stepped into the shower joining him. "Can't sleep?" She asked hugging him from behind. She kissed his shoulder and then neck.
"Yeah and I was hoping a hot shower would help," Ryan said turning around to face her. He leaned close kissing her deeply.
"What's on your mind?" She asked once they broke apart.
Ryan gave her an odd look. "What makes you think that I have something on my mind?" He asked.
"I know you too well already," She said looking into his eyes. She could read his emotional status like a book. It was too easy. "You always have insomnia when you something is on your mind." She kissed him briefly. "So spill beans."
Ryan found himself smiling at her, despite how he was feeling. "You are right," He said with a chuckle, "You do know me too well." He ran a hand through her wet hair. "But do you really want to know?"
"Of course I do," She said with feeling. "Is it about Claire?" She saw emotion flash in his eyes and she knew it was about her. "It is okay to talk about her if you want. It doesn't bother me."
Ryan sighed. "I am just worried about her," He said with a small shrug. "That's it. I know she is in that hands of an animal and I have no idea where to turn to try and help her."
"I know you will find a way," Carrie said trying to reassure him. "Do you know why I am so attracted to you?" She didn't give him time to answer. "It is the strength and devotion I see in you every day. You deal with every situation with such bravery that I am constantly amazed. Joe? That bastard is in prison. You put him there." She paused for a few moments. "Lily? Luke? All those that wanted to cause you harm and everyone you care for is out of the picture. Yes there are people that want to do that now, but knowing your determination, you will get that assholes and take them down."
Ryan knew that everything she was telling him was the truth. He was the one that took Joe down. Not once. Not twice. But three times. Although the second time he thought he was killed, but now that didn't matter. He was rotting away in prison and would be there for the rest of his life.
"What about my looks?" Ryan asked with a playful smile.
"Well you are my skinny Conan the Barbarian," She said with a tease. She slapped him on the ass causing him to gasp.
"You are evil," he said kissing her deeply.
Mike found himself sitting in Lily's living room looking at Jeffrey pace around annoyed. He knew what this was about and was ready to defend himself. It was something he needed to do and now that it was over, he felt no remorse by it. Mark was dead. It didn't bring back his father, but it did feel good to bash his skull. Yet, seeing the horrific look Max was giving him, took away any pleasure he was feeling.
"What are we going to do now?" Jeffrey asked looking at him pissed. "Throw you in jail? No I can't do that."
"I don't see the big deal here," Mike said trying to defend himself. "I found out where Mark was and came out here to investigate. When I saw him, he tried to attack me. I defended myself and was thankful to get out of it alive."
Jeffrey knew that was a proper form of defense. He didn't like it though. "You bashed his skull in," He said pointing to the kitchen. "His brains were all over the floor. Defending yourself? It doesn't look like that to me." He took a shook his head. "No. I know what you are telling me is not true. You came here with one thing in mind and that was revenge. Well you got it. Mark is dead."
"That is a good thing," Mike said not in the mood for this. He was tired and wanted to wash off the left over blood. There was still some on his pants, shirts, and shoes. "He was on the Most Wanted list."
"That is true," Jeffrey agreed with him. "But he was also a lead in finding out any information about where he has been recently. He could have even led us to Amable? Or even Molly?"
Mike sighed and ran a hand through his greasy and dirty hair. "Should I say that I am sorry?" He stood up. "Well I am not."
Jeffrey cursed and turned away from him. He looked out the living room window, to all the NYPD and SWATT stationed out there. They were trying to keep the reporters away. Word would soon get out in the open and when it did, he wanted to be far away from here.
"There is only one thing to do now," Jeffrey said turning back to him. "Give me your badge and gun."
"Excuse me?" Mike asked not believing his ears. He stood up and stepped up to Jeffrey.
"Your badge and gun," Jeffrey repeated himself. He held out his hand. "As of right now you are suspended without pay until further notice."
Mike gave him an annoyed look as he handed him his gun and badge grudgingly. "Don't do this," Mike said as Jeffrey walked away from him. "Please."
Max walked into the living room annoyed. "Why did you do it?" She asked once Jeffrey was out of the living room.
"You know why," He said his eyes on Jeffrey who was talking to a Forensic officer.
"Yes you had no other choice," Max emotionally said to him. "That is bullshit and we both know it." She took a step toward him. "You had a choice and chose the wrong one."
"Oh please," Mike turned away from her. He walked up to the window staring outside. "Don't give me that righteous nonsense." He sighed. "I know you would do the same thing if you lost someone you loved." He turned to her. "Would you feel any different if Ryan died?" He took a few steps toward her. His eyes brimmed with tears. "I see my father's death every time I close my eyes. I hear him choking on his own blood. I see that damned smile on Mark's face as he slit his throat. I couldn't deal with it anymore."
"You know there were always other ways," She told him.
"My mother won't talk to me anymore and my brother," Mike chuckled and wiped away his tears. "Hell we were never close. Now he bad mouths me to everyone who I thought respected me. I am now alienated from my family. So you and Ryan are the only family I have left."
Max took his hands. "How do you think it feels to wake up not knowing where you are and when I tried calling, I got no answer." She began to cry. "You scared the hell out of me Mike. If it weren't for your GPS in your phone, I don't think I would have been able to find you so quickly." She looked him in the eyes. "I don't' know what I would do if I lost you. I love you Mike."
"I love you too," Mike said hugging her tightly.
"Promise me that you will never do that again," Max looked him in the eyes.
Mike gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise," He said hugging her tightly again.
"Good because things are changing here," Max said looking at him seriously. "And I want you by my side."
"What are you talking about?" Mike asked looking at her confused.
"I am late," She simply answered.
It took Mike a few moments to understand what she was talking about. "For real?" He asked shocked. The news he just heard was too surreal.
"Yeah I am," She said with a nervous smile. "Over a week now." She caught Mike looking at her stomach.
"Oh wow," He said still too shocked to say anything else.
Hope you liked it! Yes Mark is dead. Oh well. More craziness to come!
As the famous line goes. "Revenge is a dish best served cold."
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