Souls At Zero (A Dark Psychological Thriller) (26 page)

"So was I!"

Edger shook his head. "I'm sorry, Declan. There hasn't been a day since that I haven't thought about that night, that I haven't regretted it."

His brother held onto Kaitlin, waving the gun about as he spoke. "And what about after? Did you even try to find me?"

"Of course I did. Everyone thought the paramilitaries had taken you. The cops said there wasn't anything they could do." Edger shook his head. "I was just a kid, Declan, same as you. What was I supposed to do?"

Edger's older brother glared at him a moment then shook his head. "So you went and joined the fucking army. The Foreign Legion, no less. Was that you trying to make up for running away and leaving me?"

Edger said nothing. Just looked at his daughter, hoping she didn't see the shame in his eyes.

"You spent your life in conflicts. Putting yourself in danger to protect other people. Driven by your own guilt, no doubt."

"I loved you, Declan. I still do. I'm sorry for what happened. If I could go back…"

"Stop it, Harry. That doesn't mean much to me now. Not after everything that happened since." He shook his head. "If you only knew what was done to me. What they made me into."

"Why don't you let Kaitlin go and then we can talk. She's innocent in all this. She's your
niece
, Declan."

His brother gave a cynical laugh. "If I were still a human being, that might mean something to me. But I'm not. I'm a monster now. Can't you see that?"

"You're still my brother. You've no idea how much I've missed you."

A flicker of emotion came into his brother's eyes, but it was no sooner there than it was gone. "I'm sure you did, Harry. I may even have missed you for a while. But it's too late for family reunions. The brother you knew is dead now. There is only Blutwolf. That's what the Angel Of Death turned me into. The Blood Wolf."

Edger didn't know what to say to that. His brother was obviously crazy from whatever happened to him since they last met. But that didn't mean Edger was going to abandon him again. He would get his brother help. Try to make him well again. "Let Kaitlin go, Declan," Edger said, walking slowly forward. "She's just a little girl, and she's scared. She's been through enough."

His brother stared back at him a moment, then he took the gun away from Kaitlin's head and released her from his grip. Kaitlin immediately bolted towards Edger, who picked her up and held her in his arms while she clung to him, sobbing into his neck.

"You have to help me, Harry," Edger's older brother said. "The ones who took me, they subjected me to the most horrific torture imaginable. For years. They stole my mind." He pointed the gun at his own head. "My fucking
mind
, Harry. They took who I was and destroyed it. Made me into someone else. A killer. Someone who would kill on command. The things I've done, Harry…" He shook his head. "Terrible things. And the worst part is, I didn't have a choice. I had to do what I was told, do what the Angel Of Death commanded me to do."

"I don't understand, Declan. Are you saying you were brainwashed?"

"Yes, in the worst way imaginable."

Edger could hardly believe what he was hearing. All these years he thought his brother was dead, when in fact Declan was out there, doing terrible things for terrible people. Not unlike Edger's own life on occasion. "Are you still under their control?"

He shook his head. "I had an accident. Fell out of a two storey window while on assignment in Italy. The head trauma from the fall disrupted the programming. Freed me, you might say."

"Who are these people who did this to you?"

"There are many," his brother said. "Many who did the torture and abuse. And it still goes on. They have new victims all the time."

"McGinty?"

"He was one. One of the first. But he isn't part of the program. McGinty and the others are just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on hurting and abusing kids. It's the man—the monster—at the head of it all who needs to be stopped."

"The Angel Of Death?"

"His real name is—"

That was as far as he got before the top of his head was blown off.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Edger didn't think. The second he heard the gunshot ring out behind him—the instant he saw his brother's head get half blown off by the heavy calibre round that hit him—Edger hit the deck with Kaitlin in his arms, just as more bullets pierced the air where he was standing, slamming into the wood at the back end of the barn.

Kaitlin screamed as she lay underneath him, his arms still wrapped around her. He was glad she was facing the other way when the bullet hit his brother.

Edger began to crawl forward as best he could while still holding Kaitlin, towards the minimal cover afforded by the stacks of tires and oil drums just a few feet away.

"Daddy!" Kaitlin cried.

Edger kept crawling as more bullets hit the floor around him, sending chips of concrete flying into the air. He pulled himself along with one arm, holding Kaitlin underneath him with the other, until he finally made it behind a stack of large tires.

That's when the automatic fire started. Bullets began to power into everything around them, including the tires they were taking cover behind. Going by the impact, he figured the shooters were using 7.62mm rounds. It was only a matter of time before the heavy calibre rounds pieced the tires they were hiding behind.

He had to do something.

Kaitlin screamed as the hail of bullets continued.

Edger chanced a quick look around the edge of the tire stack and saw three shooters advancing on their position. The shooters were at the edge of the field at the front of the farm, about to step onto the concrete yard. That put them about 300 yards away.

Not much time.

And he didn't even have a gun to return fire with. The Glock 17 was in the middle of the barn where he left it. His brother's gun lay beside his dead body at the other side of the tire stack. Edger knew he would be riddled with bullets if he tried to get the gun, so he didn't even try.

"Shit!" he said, looking around him frantically. Then his eyes fixed on the back of the barn itself. The whole barn was constructed of wood. The walls were just vertical wood panels, most of which were not in great shape. He could kick a few out and escape around the back of the barn, and then into the farmhouse where hopefully Declan had another weapon stashed.

But he had to be quick. Once the three shooters came into the barn, that would be it. There were be no escaping.

He tightened his grip on Kaitlin and began to drag himself along the floor towards the back of the barn, which thankfully wasn't that far away. He crawled in behind an old engine block, and just as he did, a volley of shots clanged of the metal.

"I don't want to die, Daddy!" Kaitlin screamed.

Edger turned over onto his back and hugged his daughter tight to him, using one hand to keep her head protected against his chest. "You're not going to die," he told her, gritting his teeth and kicking at the wood panels of the barn in an effort to force some of the bottom panels of the railing they were nailed to.

Behind him, the sound of the gunfire drew nearer as the shooters approached the barn from across the front yard.

Edger kicked at two of the panels as hard as he could. The first panel came off easy. The second was a little more stubborn, but he eventually snapped it in half with his boot, creating enough of a gap to squeeze through.

As another volley of rounds peppered the wood panels of the barn, punching huge holes in them, Edger gripped his daughter and dived forward through the gap that he had created, his shoulder taking out another panel as he went through. Immediately, he got to his feet and ran with his daughter in his arms across the yard towards the back door of the farmhouse, which was lying open.

Upon entering the kitchen, he knew he wouldn't have long. The shooters were probably already heading for the house.

He had to hide Kaitlin somewhere. He couldn't protect her or himself otherwise.

Stepping out of the kitchen to the hallway, he noticed the small door set into the side of the stairs. He pulled the door open to reveal a tiny cubbyhole. Prising his daughter of him, he quickly ushered her inside the dark cubbyhole. "No!" she squealed, refusing to let go of his hand.

"I have to," he told her, looking straight into her fear-filled eyes. "I'll be back. I promise."

Her face contorted with fright, but his daughter reluctantly let go of his hand and then pointed towards the door opposite. "In there," she said. "There's guns."

Thank Christ.

He wanted to hug his daughter, but there was no time. "Don't move from here until I come back for you."

He closed the door on her, sealing her in darkness. Then he rushed into the living room. He barely took in the photographs on the wall before he spotted the canvas bag on the floor, filled with guns. He ran over and lifted the tactical rifle of the top of the pile, checked the magazine was full. It wasn't. Half the rounds were missing. He searched in the bag and found another magazine, this one full. He inserted the full magazine into the rifle and put the half full one in his jacket pocket. Then he took a Beretta 92FS 9mm semi-automatic pistol from the bag and inserted it into the empty shoulder holster beneath his jacket.

A second later, the front door was booted in.

At the same time, Edger heard footsteps coming through the kitchen.

He pressed himself against the wall nearest the door, the rifle held in both hands, ready to throw up to his shoulder when he needed to fire.

Floorboards creaked in the front hallway as one of the shooters walked towards the stairs.

The shooter in the kitchen was getting closer, their footsteps making faint slapping sounds on the linoleum floor. He could spin round to the living room doorway and try to take out the shooter that way, but in doing so he would risk getting shot himself. The shooter would open up the instant he saw Edger in the doorway.

Instead, Edger waited until he heard the creaking of floorboards in the hallway, which would mean the shooter had stepped out of the kitchen. The second Edger heard the sound of creaking floorboards, he swung the Colt rifle around the door frame, keeping himself pressed back against the wall. Pulling the trigger, he fired of a volley of blind shots, hoping at least one would hit the shooter in the hallway, then brought the rifle back around the door frame, just as the other shooter, the one near the front door, fired off a volley of shots that slammed into the living room door. There was no return fire from the other shooter near the kitchen, so Edger assumed the guy was down.

Another blast of shots decimated the door in the living room. Staying close to the wall, Edger moved back a few steps, the rifle pressed into his shoulder.

And waited.

A second later, the other shooter spun himself around the door frame and into the room. His mistake was to aim to the far corner of the room as he came in shooting. As soon as he did, Edger fired two shots in quick succession at the shooter's chest, both rounds pounding into the guy's body armour and sending him flying back against the wall. Edger didn't hesitate after that. He aimed again, fired a single shot at the guy's head, the bullet entering the shooter's forehead and exploding out the back of his skull, where it carried on into the plaster wall behind him, taking a huge amount of the guy's skull and brain with it.

The small room now stinking of gunpowder, Edger's ears rang with the loudness of all the shots that had just been fired. He backed up against the bullet ridden living room door, next to where the dead shooter lay, his blood and brains oozing down the damp wallpaper.

Taking a breath, Edger peeked around the doorway and saw the other shooter lying on the floor in the kitchen, unmoving. But that didn't mean he was dead. His body armour could have took the shots Edger fired earlier. He could just be unconscious.

Edger looked to his right, down the hallway towards the front door. Where was the other shooter?

Rifle to his shoulder, Edger moved out into the hallway, aware that his daughter was still in the cubbyhole under the stairs. He prayed that no stray bullets had went through the wood of the stairs, or through the little door. He didn't want to call out and risk drawing attention to her, especially when he couldn't see the other shooter. He also didn't know if there were more shooters out there, or on their way.

He cautiously moved towards the unmoving gunman lying on the kitchen floor. There were three bullet holes in the guy's vest, and one in his unprotected shoulder. Edger put a bullet in the shooter's head, splatting the guy's brains all over the dirty brown linoleum floor.

Two down.

Now where the fuck is the other guy?

His question was answered when a volley of shots came from the front door. One of the bullets hit Edger on the back of his right shoulder, tearing through the flesh just underneath his collar bone and exploding out of his deltoid muscle, before carrying on in its trajectory, embedding itself in the kitchen wall. The shock of being hit caused the rifle to go flying out of Edger's hand, and he dived left into the kitchen, turning onto his back as he took the Beretta out of its holster inside his jacket, aiming it at the doorway just as the other shooter came rushing through firing. The 7.62mm rounds from the shooter's gun blew holes in the lower kitchen cupboards and linoleum floor, but none of them hit Edger, as close as they were. The shooter had rushed in, firing blind.