Oakdale, Illinois, Hughes Residence, 2019
Noah rushed out the back of the house just in time to see a flash of movement disappear into the oak forest that backed up to the edge to the Hughes' expansive yard.
He followed Garrett and Jacob. But the bright flashes of sunlight through the canopy of leaves turned the whole forest floor into an intricate maze. Noah felt directionless and eventually came to a standstill, choosing to rely on his hearing rather than his sight.
Footsteps approached and he ducked behind a tree, pouncing as they passed.
"Hey!" It was Chris. "Noah!"
"Dammit, Chris!" Noah exclaimed, pushing the blonde man back. "Get out of here!"
"No way! That's my son, Noah! You'd do the same!"
Noah relented and then gestured for silence. Through the heavy wind rustle of leaves, Noah heard a faint sound like the squeak of a door hinge.
"Do you have any outbuildings?" Noah asked.
"Yes..." Chris confirmed. "A shed. This way…"
Suddenly, the woods gave way to a clearing, in the center of which stood a structure more a barn than a shed. They heard Jacob's crying coming from within.
As Chris made a move forward, Noah shot his arm out to hold him back.
"He's in there!" Chris yelled.
"It's a trap…" Noah quietly replied. "He'd never corner himself like that. He's trying to box us in."
Noah saw the glint of steel too late. Garrett seemed to come out of nowhere, plunging out of the thicket, striking his knife upward. Noah didn't move quickly enough and he felt the knife gash a strip up the side of his ribs.
Oddly it was Chris who cried out. Maddened by Garrett's treatment of his wife and son, Chris punched the murderer in the vicinity of the bleeding gunshot wound.
The pain must have been intense because the blow sent Garrett to the floor. However it wasn't long before the man was back on his feet, laughing at Chris. "You a tough guy all of a sudden, Doc?" He gestured in a 'come hither' motion with his bloodied hands. "C'mon, show me what ya got."
To Noah's great surprise, what Chris had was a black belt in karate. With one quick decisive kick to the genitals, he had Garrett grounded. Once there, Chris delivered a second kick to the man's jaw."
"Stop!" Katie had appeared through the clearing.
"Mommy!" Jacob ran out of the shed and over to her and she swiftly lifted him in her arms.
But her focus was on her husband, currently in the process of releasing years of pent up aggression, by pelting the life out of Garrett.
Before Chris could take another punch at Garrett's face, Noah stumbled over and stopped him with a hand to Chris' chest. "Not here," he firmly said. "Not in front of Jacob."
That snapped Chris out of his stupor and he looked back once to check on the safety of his family. "Take Jacob inside," he told the tearful Katie. "Call the police!"
"What about you?" she cried.
"Just do it!" he commanded and something on his face told her not to argue.
She turned to leave but then quickly swung back; approching them. Shifting Jacob on her hip, she dug into her pocket and handed Chris the Dictaphone. "You might need this," she said with intense eyes and a slight nod; somehow wordlessly understanding the situation.
With a quick kiss on her husband's lips, Katie ran off through the trees with their child in her arms.
Chris waved the little device at Noah. "Now you know why I love that woman!"
Together they hefted the heavy body of a half-unconscious and bloodied Garrett into the shed, securing him with duct tape to the central support column.
Noah forced himself to ignore the sickening feeling in his stomach.
Toughen up Mayer! This is for Luke…
"Okay, Garrett, you're going to spill your guts about Marsden and his little plan to set Luke and me up. I want it all, every sordid little detail. Understood?" Noah waited a beat before asking his first question. "Who killed my father?"
When Garrett didn't answer, merely smirked, Noah hit him hard across the jaw; sending a fine red mist flying through the air.
Noah had to turn away as his stomach turned. He wondered whether he could really do this. But then Garrett started laughing.
That really pissed off Noah.
Adrenaline like nothing he'd ever felt before, pulsed through his veins. He kicked down hard on Garrett's injured shoulder.
The man screamed so loud they heard the birds outside squawk and take flight.
Noah repeated the action. "Tell me!" he demanded.
Again, Garrett laughed, earning him another blow from Noah's boot.
The scream that time was bloodcurdling. Garrett looked like he was about to pass out.
"Jesus, Noah!" Chris exclaimed. "Careful you don't kill him!"
"He won't die." Noah flatly replied, leaning over to stare Garrett down. "He'll beg to die. But I won't let him! Not until he tells his story."
Again, Garrett simply grinned with bloody teeth.
It was becoming clear to Noah that this man was strong enough to sustain the pain. Perhaps this was pointless. But all he had to do was think about his scared little boy out there on his own; and Luke… Luke hanging…
Noah rained blow by painful blow; summoning up a rage he wasn't sure he could control.
"Noah, it's not working!" Chris' voice shook with fear.
When Noah looked up into his friend's face, he realized what he must have looked like; some crazed mad-man. He stepped back; heaving with anger, guilt, loss, and pain so deep it cut worse than the knife wound in his side.
Realizing Chris was right, that beating this man wasn't the answer, Noah's shoulders sagged in defeat. He was about to fail his family again.
As he turned his back on Garrett, his eyes fell on a group of labeled bottles; looking so innocent on their shelf. He stepped closer, examining the contents until he saw one that flamed the idea in his head.
Under the shelf was a cardboard box of old used rags, along with a handy pair of work gloves. He slipped on the gloves, grabbed a rag; and selected a bottle.
"I get it, Garrett," Noah began. "You're prepared to die. You expect to die today. And, if that's the case, you sure as hell aren't going to give up anything that would clear Luke and me."
"What are you doing, Noah?" Chris asked, as Noah uncapped the bottle and the unmistakable smell of sulfuric acid permeated the room.
"This stuff here..." Noah stated, noticing with satisfaction the slight widening of Garrett's swollen eyes. "I've used this stuff before… to strip my walls. But... man... you really have to watch yourself! This stuff burns worse than fire!"
As Noah poured a small amount of acid on the rag, he made sure to drop a few spats on the thigh of Garrett's trousers. The acid made short work of the cotton and pretty soon found the flesh beneath.
Garrett gritted his teeth and groaned. This was a different breed of pain, requiring a much more sophisticated level of tolerance, which Noah hoped Garrett wasn't prepared to withstand.
Noah smiled when he realized he had the upper hand. "As I said. Burns like fire!" He moved his head in closer to Garrett. "It was you, wasn't it? You made Luke hang himself, just like you tried to do to Katie. I'm right, aren't I?"
As he spoke, his hands trembled and Garrett smirked when he saw it.
"The hands?" Noah asked. "You think it's funny? You think it's weak of me? Well, you'd be right. Because I'm no killer. That's why I'm going to let you live."
Garrett shot him a looked that said, "This guy is nuts."
Noah nodded. "Yes! I am crazy! I'm fucking out of my mind! Just crazy enough to make sure the next dose of this stuff goes in your eyes."
Suddenly horrified, Garrett began to struggle wildly against his bonds. His eyes darted between Noah's face and the acid-soaked rag in his gloved hand. Eventually, he looked pleadingly over at Chris.
"Don't look at him!" Noah snapped. "He's not going to help you! You just tried to kill his wife, you fucker! You look at me!"
Bottom lip trembling, sweat trickling down his swollen blood-soaked cheeks; Garrett turned back to Noah.
"This is a fair trade I think," Noah said, bringing the rag closer toward Garrett's face. The man pulled back for it as far as the ropes allowed him to go. "I won't get to see my family again. But you won't get to see again… period!"
With the rag inches from his right eye, Garrett screamed, "It was me!"
Noah's hand froze. He could barely believe it. "Did you get that, Chris?"
"Yes," Chris whispered; the recording light on the Dictaphone blinking in his hand.
"Say it again," Noah instructed, needing to be sure.
"It was me that shot all those people. Me and some other guy."
"Under whose orders?"
"We were hired by Charles Marsden."
…
It took three hours for Garrett to spill everything he knew about Marsden, Marsh, information smuggling and the Oakdale set up. They didn't even have to threaten him again.
Once Garrett was done, Noah staggered from the shed. He stumbled down a slight embankment and hid away under cover of the forest. He found he couldn't breathe and slumped back against the bark of a tree. His stomach rolled in disgust at himself; at what he was becoming.
Placing his face in his hands, he felt the wet heat of tears he couldn't afford to shed. He banged a battered fist back into the tree.
Stop it! Fucking stop!
He pressed his eyelids tightly closed. But his entire body was caught up in an onslaught of shudders quickly escaping in gut wrenching sobs.
His stomach tensed and he threw up beside the tree-trunk; sliding down to the ground when the expulsions finally stopped.
The tears burned his eyes as he cried; angry at himself for allowing them. But it was like a dam wall had burst; and the water couldn't be held back until the dam was completely empty.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew Chris had joined him. Noah was grateful when the doctor didn't try to talk to him. Chris simply sat beside him; waiting for Noah to collect himself.
Noah shivered. So much so his teeth chattered together. He pressed his forehead into his palms as he spoke, "I would have done it, Chris..."
Chris squeezed Noah's shoulder. "What?"
Noah turned his head toward the doctor. "I would have put acid in that man's eyes."
Chris said nothing; just sympathetically nodded.
"I heard him in my head... firing instructions..."
"Who?" Chris asked. "Marsden?"
Noah shook his head. "No... My dad..."
Chris began to wonder just what kind of childhood Noah had experienced.
Then softly, hardly a whisper, Noah asked, "Am I a bad person?"
"No." Chris replied without hesitation. "You're not a bad person... I think you're just stronger than most..."
Noah nodded; perhaps half-accepting the statement as truth.
A couple more minutes ticked by as they sat in the cool shade of the forest. No words past between them; yet much was said.
"Um…" Noah eventually began, pulling himself to his feet and wiping his eyes. "Um… You'll have to stay and deal with the cops when they get here."
"What about you?" Chris asked, also rising to his feet.
Noah took a deep breath. "We'll go back up to the house and transfer the recording onto this USB stick." Noah pulled the lanyard out from inside the collar of his shirt. "Then I'm taking what we have to Marsden."
"Noah," Chris gently told him. "By some miracle we've been handed enough evidence to give to the police and the press. You don't need to confront Marsden."
Noah laughed dryly. "Yes… I do… This meeting's long overdue."