In the Shadow of the Tiger (The Fighter Series Book 2) Read online

  “Sixteen,” Vic said without waiting for Dragon to ask. “Auburn hair, blue eyes and looks like an angel. Parents are gone. Her aunt and uncle are her guardians.” He paused and then smiled revealing several gaps in the line of his teeth “The girl is as rebellious as hell. Candy had to sedate her.”

  “I told her not to do that.” Dragon growled not liking what Candy had become. He was looking for a kid, but not the ones Candy brought on board. Gaining a handful of kids from the previous hire made it harder to sneak them off the ship.

  “You might want to keep this one.”

  Dragon's eyes focused in on Vic. He didn't know Dragon at all. Dragon leaned slightly forward extracting a knife to the side of his face allowing the cold metal to warm against his skin. There was a slight shudder as Vic realized he'd overstepped his boundary.

  Dragon smiled. “I’ll be the one to decide that.”

  Now thirty-four, Dragon weighed a healthy 195 pounds and kept a clean-shaven face tanned by the California sun. The head of a tattooed dragon sprayed a reddish flame around the nape of his neck. The scales lifted into fine lines displaying aggression and destruction. The tattoo of the beast, exquisitely created, had eyes that looked real. The edges of the pupils held a ring of fire framed by a flash of yellow and orange. Nostrils flared open, and a long red tongue twisted out of its mouth almost reaching into Dragon's jawbone. The tattoo was Dragon's signature. However, no one knew its symbolic meaning.

  “Where is she?”

  “Two suites down from yours. Candy’s with her.” Vic said.

  Dragon said nothing. He turned toward the monitors behind him. Vic clicked on the center screen. Dragon leaned forward settling his gaze on the girl who appeared more like a young woman. The camera zoomed closer to her face. A thin layer of sweat shone on her brow sparkling under the lights. Long strands of auburn hair splashed around her shoulders like dark honey. Candy leaned in hearing the motor of the camera zoom in. She stared into the lens and then stepped away allowing Dragon full view. Her almond shaped eyes looked angelic as she slept. She had full rosy lips with a refined nose. Tanned light bronze skin reflected the time in the California sun.

  Candy reached over lifting the girl’s lips to show Dragon straight white teeth. Vic was right she was angelic. He wanted to show his elation but restrained any emotion. At the same time, he wanted so badly to smack Candy down hating her dehumanizing ways.

  Dragon sucked in another deep breath leaning in closer to the monitor. The girl was stirring. A slight moan escaping her lips. Then her eyes opened. The camera caught the irises in her eyes. He instantly recognized her. In his mind, he was thinking, “Get ready for it.” Then she leaped from the bed, landing balanced on her feet, facing Candy.

  “Sedate her if you have to. No cocktails. Nothing more do you understand?” Dragon ordered.

  The effects of drugs she peddled had turned Candy’s teeth a shade of gray. One beautiful, her skin had taken on a rough texture. Her hair was no longer silky and soon open sores would devour her once flawless skin. Poisoned by outside influences, Dragon doubted she'd be around much longer.

  The girl swayed from side to side. The poison in her bloodstream flowed freely. A knot grew in the pit of his stomach watching the beauty, the girl, and the beast, Candy, who stood with a jagged smile on her lips. It made Dragon shudder, and yet the girl's fire sparked something he'd been missing for some time.

  Dragon watched. He would have rather found the girl himself since Candy's tactics were brutal in comparison to his. The mixture she was peddling was more toxic than he'd ever seen. In the first months of the Shift, ingredients for homemade meth were free and plentiful. Now, some years later, factions formed making finding the materials tougher and even harder to get. This mixture of drug was strong. The mix dropped teeth out of gums, caused skin to boil and slide, and occasionally killed with one dose. The crew wasn't the sharpest group especially the ones dipping into Candy's cookie jar because the drug made users reckless and demented. Ingredients were free to take, and the chemistry background of the person who had brewed the drugs, evil.

  Candy moved away from the girl. She dropped the syringe leaving it sitting on the counter and grabbed up another. Dragon waited. Candy turned on the girl who’d slowly regained her balance. Candy, with a needle, closed the distance between herself and the girl grabbing her roughly with one hand. Auburn hair fell around the girl's face and shoulders, and she fought herself free of Candy's hold while keeping the needle from slipping into her flesh. Dragon smiled as the girl ripped herself free and dove for the syringe on the counter sending glass containers filled with some liquid crashing to the floor.

  “We found an ID on her,” Vic said handing Dragon the school ID watching from behind him.

  Dragon looked down at the girl's student ID, and he felt an immediate lump form in his throat. "You sure this is hers?"

  “Faded photo but it was in her back pocket.”

  Dragon turned back to the monitor just as Candy slipped on the pink mess and started to go down. Reaching out, Candy grabbed hold of the girl and pulled her through the liquid forcing her to tumble to the floor.

  Candy raised her fist, but Dragon pressed his lips to the mic. “No Candy.”

  Candy withdrew her fist. The girl kicked out, but Candy held her. One of Dragon's men stepped through the door pinning the girl down. Candy stuck the needle in the air, pushed out the air and slid it deep into the girl's vein. Seconds ticked by before the girl's body went limp.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Riley sat propped up against the wall. Blake held a handkerchief to her nose. "It's okay." She said. Because Blake had to be her nursemaid, she was angry.

  “You’re bleeding all over the place.” He said softly holding the material tight.

  “What’s a little blood left behind?” She said impatiently pinching off the top of her nose. She could taste the warm flow of rusted iron going down the back of her throat.

  “Hawk 1, Copy.” The voice touched ears.

  “Don’t say anything.” She pleaded. “He’ll pull me out of here.”

  “Then stop bleeding,” Blake said.

  “No problem. I’ll shut off the valve.” Riley smiled, but Blake didn’t switch his radio over.

  “Copy,” Blake said.

  “Relay.”

  “Copy.” She said softly.

  Blake pulled her to her feet. She saw the soft reflection of metal bounce off the ship's safety lights. As fast as she was on her feet, Riley raised her pistol unloading two rounds into a single black figure moving in their direction. The first bullet caught the thug a quarter of an inch above his vest and the second one lodged somewhere in his brain directly between his eyes. A split second of stunned belief washed over the man as he fell forward. His body thudded softly on the floor, and then there was silence. An aroma escaped the barrel of her pistol filling the air with metallic gunpowder. Within a millisecond, the density of the ship consumed the smells in hollow greediness leaving behind a musty odor.

  Blake looked down at her. His height topped hers by a half a foot. “Thanks.” He said.

  “No problem,” Riley said scanning the shallow light with readiness.

  “One down,” Blake said into his mic.

  “Copy.”

  “You good?” Blake asked.

  “I’m good. Can we move on now?” She whispered.

  “Hmm,” he said moving out in front of her.

  The crazies living here embraced the night, keeping to the ship, which was a twenty-four-hour world of darkness. Places, like the belly, held no windows for daylight to enter making light solely dependent on some form of power. With the large generators off, blackness wrapped its elusive arms around Blake and Riley making them as much the unknown as those waiting to attack them.

  Riley used the tips of her boots, one free hand not yielding a weapon and her sense of smell to stay upright. There was no right or wrong way to being gracefully quiet in blindness. Shadows turned to shapes that t
ook on looming figures. When a distant drumming of machines sliced into the silence, the safety lights overhead flashed. This housed monsters and boogeymen engulfing the folds of blackness in shapes of Riley’s adolescent creations and infiltrated her overactive adult mind. Blake's silhouette moved not a foot in front of her as they worked their way through the shifting darkness.

  They walked through a narrow opening catching oversized cobwebs that found their clothing and then stretched. Distracted by the presence of spiders crawling on her neck and back, Riley nearly T-boned Blake when he stopped, her chin connecting with the midsection of his shoulders. He said nothing flicking on his light and lighting up a massive steel barrier.

  “Unbelievable,” Blake said.

  “What?” She said trying to see past him.

  “Key’s in the lock.”

  Blake turned the key, and it clicked, but when he turned the handle, the sound of metal and rust echoed down the corridor.

  “Shhhh.” She said.

  A pull of cold air rushed past them turning acrid. Riley put her finger to her nose pushing away the smell while sneaking a glance at the low-lit lights laminating behind aged domes. Strategically placed, the glow revealed little to the depth of blackness that held it hostage. A solid orange cast outward and then created a sheen of colors high above showering the space below with an illusion of fire.

  “Want some Vic’s?” She whispered, looking at the lights and thinking how little they lent any help to see past the shadows that hovered in corners and areas furthest from the lights.

  “You carry that with all the time?”

  “Yes,” She said. She would never get used to the smell of old death. Fresh death was tolerable, but aged death was rancid.

  Blake stepped through the opening. Riley followed stopping just short of the entrance. Already she saw shadows dancing in between empty spaces.

  “Where are we?” Riley whispered.

  “Boiler room.”

  “Roomy but not inviting.” She said.

  They took a walkway that led them through the far side of the room. A gangplank made of wood and metal appeared only to disappear into another abyss. Tubes and pipes lined the floor and walls. They had been the veins of the ships heating and cooling system. Long strands of wires had worked their way free and hung tangled balls from heavy beams overhead. It was a spider web of metal and rivets glued in place by rust and corrosion. From somewhere unseen the sound of trickling water resonated in the southern end of the room. The drip muffled by distance and space. Riley strained to see past the shapes toward the darkened places where her vision played tricks. The shadows recreated themselves as giant metal spiders crawling out from behind a hole. It's long spike legs made of sharp knives tapped on the metal braces below.

  “Tap tap tap!” Then nothing. She heard the soft tapping of metal on metal again. “Listen,” she said stopping in the middle of the gangplank.

  They stood in the central section of the room. Riley forced her imagination to calm separating the sound coming from within the chamber. Tap, tap, the tapping tone so soft she wondered if it wasn't in her head.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “No,” Blake answered stepping in next to her. He held the M&P15 Tactical like a father would a son, close and protective.

  “It’s a tapping sound.”

  It stopped. Riley gazed into the darkness. Through the folds of places her eyes couldn’t see, she strained her eyes to work. She looked over at Blake. No more than a separation in the darkness, his figure glowed with an orange halo. Straight out of horror flick. From a center beam hung a giant steel hook, then another and another. She suddenly felt the need to run. She imagined the hook catching her from the back hanging her from the ceiling like a slab of meat.

  “It’s gone.” She said brushing off the chill. “The sound.”

  Unable to pinpoint the sound, Blake moved forward. They walked the perimeter of the room once and then a second time using a flashlight to light darkened corners and shadowy indents. That’s when Riley saw the flash of blue. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the tarnished shades in the rusted oversized container, and the blue was a bright contrast. Blake raised his weapon. Riley reached up and pressed the gun downward.

  The sound of footsteps padded over wooden walkways. The moan of boards under pressure whined aloud and then stopped. The container went silent.

  “Wait,” Riley said to Blake.

  Clicking her flashlight on low, Riley moved forward. She moved the beam in towards the folds of twisted metal. A flash of blue sped past the ray of light disappearing into an area of blackness. This time Riley caught a flash of long blonde hair. She felt Blake by her side. He said nothing waiting. Riley slid forward hoping there was no escape from the room without going past her.

  Moving a little quicker now, the sound of footsteps and brushing material to metal directed Riley where to go. Suddenly silent, Riley stopped turning off the light letting darkness guide them. Riley then moved in the person's direction. When she heard a rustling sound, Riley flipped on the flashlight.

  Balled up and pressed tightly into a hole was a little girl. Burrowed into a tiny space, Riley was sure they'd need the Jaws of Life to extract her out. In her arms, she embraced a torn dirty doll so close to her. The doll's tattered body hid her face. The glow coming from Riley's light bounced off one cheek, and her fingers tightened around the girth of the toy. Then one full eye appeared into Riley's view.

  “Hi,” Riley said.

  The eye blinked. The doll fell to the side. A small face revealed itself. Dirt smudged her skin while blonde pieces of hair that looked more like straw fell on the left side of her face. The girl folded so tightly into the opening; Riley couldn't make out her legs from her shoulders. She was a neatly folded piece of origami, but with torn edges. The pieces of material were filthy and worn. Reaching out, Riley motioned her forward. She responded by pulling further into the hole. Holstering her pistol, Riley got down on her knees keeping enough distance to allow the girl to feel safe.

  “What’s going on?” Blake asked from behind.

  “It’s a little girl.”

  “Grab her and let’s go.”

  “I can’t. She’s inside some tangled metal.”

  “You need help?”

  Riley didn’t answer but looked at the little girl instead. “I won’t hurt you. What’s your doll’s name?”

  The girl didn’t say anything keeping her eyes focused on Riley. Sniffling she reached up and rubbed one of her eyelids leaving a smudge.

  "I don't have a doll like that, but I do have a cat named Max,” Riley said. All kids liked animals. Puppy’s and kittens were the quickest to come to mind hoping to break the code of silence.

  There was a long pause before she whispered, “Is Max with you?”

  “No,” Riley said. “He’s with my daughter Megan.”

  “Megan.” She repeated shifting and closing the distance between them. “I had a sister once.”

  “I promise I won’t hurt you,” Riley said. “Pinky promise.”

  Riley pulled off her right glove and held up her pinky. The girl released her doll and exposed her pinky finger. Riley reached forward and locked her finger to the girls.

  “You’re not the lady in red?” She asked.

  “No," Riley said. "Who's the lady in red?" Their fingers fell away from the other's sealing the promise.

  “She told me to hide in here.”

  “Where is she now? Is she coming back for you?”

  “I don’t know. Can you find her. She’s nice. Are you nice?”

  “Yes. I’m nice. How did you get on the ship?”

  "A man told me he found my mommy." A tear formed at the corner of her eye. It rolled down her cheek making a dark mark centered with a white streak on her skin.

  “Will you come out?” Riley asked. The girl nodded. Riley worried she’d change her mind and time was falling short.

  "What about the sick people?"

  “You�
��ll be with Blake and me,” Riley replied.

  “Does he have a cat?” She whispered.

  Riley looked back toward Blake, and he shook his head no. "I have two dogs, Rowdy and Tuff." He said softly. "And a goat named Anabelle."

  “Oh, I like goats.” She said. Somewhere behind the dirt and grime, her lips formed a slight smile.

  "Can you hold Holly for me?" She pushed the doll forward, and Riley took her in her arms gently in a show of faith.

  The girl began to work her arms out first and then as if squeezed from a tube of toothpaste, she never faltered stopping in a standing position. Riley was eye level with her now as she slowly reached out and took Holly from her hands. Grossly pale and far too thin, her big blue eyes looked like marbles glowing under the casted glow of the LED light. She reminded Riley of Megan and Utah when they’d found her. Hungry, dirty and desperate.