Ethan handed the folder to Karson, but he didn’t bother to open it. “How many in the group?” Karson asked.
Matt shook his head and rubbed his chin. “We don’t know for certain, but we think around twenty or so. It’s likely the branch is still affiliated with the main group. They have a shed they operate out of in Cable Park. Across America there are a number of offset branches. They do that so if they're caught, the heat doesn’t fall under the actual the Bone Crushers’ banner.” He pulled a notepad out of the top pocket of his check shirt, tore off the top page. “Here’s a list of places they’re known to frequent, but you didn’t get it from me.”
Ethan grabbed it, his brow furrowed as he read the list. “Looks like we’re going hunting tonight, Karson.” The coldness of his voice sent a chill through me.
He handed the list to Karson, poured a drink and gulped it down. This time, I thought, it was more to settle his anger than to quench his thirst.
Karson tossed the manila folder onto the coffee table. An image fluttered out and floated in the air, diving back and forth like an autumn leaf released from a tree branch, and landed at my feet. I picked it up. It was an image of a blonde, thin, pale-faced little girl. Her spindly arms were wrapped around bent knees, cloaked by a long, white hospital gown. Her tiny hands clasped tight together, as if she were desperately trying to keep her body locked and protected beneath the safety of her grip. Haunted brown eyes stared up at the camera.
My head spun. Something punched my gut. Inexplicably, it was dark. I was flat on my back, staring at a deep, ghastly shadow of a man hovering, menacingly, above, and then he rushed at me. I opened my mouth to scream, but pure terror thesound and all I managed was a whimper. He slammed on top, crushing the air from my lungs, his hand covered my mouth, my nose, and I couldn’t breathe. The darkness spun wildly. His breath was hot and heavy and smelled of stale beer, pine, and smoke. My stomach curdled. I tried to rise but the bed sucked me down. I was pinned, crushed by his weight. I tried to scream again. But my cries stayed in my throat. Tears burned down my face.
No, no, no, please no.
His hand yanked at my pants.
Somewhere in the dark, ugly, coffin of my brain, horror rose and hissed its awful echoes.
“Amelia.Amelia.” In the far distance, Karson called my name. His voice snapped me back. I was on the couch, the world lurid and spinning. I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t think, I opened my mouth but it was a gaping hole devoid of words. Muddled, I scrambled to pull myself together.
“Amelia?” A hand touched my arm. I yelped and shrunk away. “It’s me, it’s just me,” Karson said.
My heart was thundering, and my cheeks were soaking wet. They all stared at me like something was wrong with me. I looked down, numb and dazed. The image was still clutched between my shaking fingers.
“Did you get a vision?” Ethan asked.
“A vision,” I repeated, like it was a foreign word. A vision, that’s what it was. A vision, so real and yet it wasn’t. “Um, yes, I think so.”
“What did you see?” Matt leaned forward, suddenly intrigued.
“See?” I repeated, my voice sounded as foreign as the words.
“It’s just this case wasn’t solved, if you saw something that might help us catch him . . .” He sounded so hopeful. I felt bad for disappointing him.
“See,” I repeated again, I shook my head as if shaking out the images. “Just the darkness.”
Ethan and Karson exchanged glances, like they were communicating wordlessly, I couldn’t tell what they were saying but they both looked concerned. I dropped my head to the ground, rubbed at my nose.
“I didn’t see anything but his shadow. He drinks beer and smokes.” I stood up and placed the picture carefully on the table as if my gentle caress of her image might magically drift to her and soothe her soul. Dazed, I went outside.
The day had become overcast and sooty. Gloomy gray wings spread out for what seemed like an eternity. Even the green of the treetops appeared muted today. I sat on the grass and ran my fingers over the soft strands, caught in a gut-wrenching, tumultuous place. The grass was real, I was here, not in a bed, not being attacked. It wasn’t real, I chanted over and over again, fingering the grass. Breathing deeply, willing away the memory that could have been my own. But wasn’t. The grass, the trees, the sky, they were my reality. The bed, the man, was the little girl’s reality. My head throbbed with each beat of my slowing heart, and my face pulsed again painfully.
I was profoundly disturbed by what she’d been through. A civil, humane society, controlled by law, was not as effective as I’d once believed. Merciless, barbaric factions operated under the noses of the police and they preyed on the weak and innocent.
The little girl hadn’t been shown mercy when she was raped. There was no mercy awarded to her because she was innocent. None given to her because of her age. No mercy shown as she screamed out in agony and terror . . .
I sat there for a long moment, allowing the horror to fade, like black fog over the horizon.
The door opened and Matt came out, the folder tucked neatly under his right arm. I recognized the look on his face, I’d seen it staring back at me in the mirror. It was a face possessed by pain and emptiness, one that comes when love walks away.
“Are you alright, Amy?” he asked, placing his hat on his head, shadowing his olive face, strolling toward me.
I nodded.
“You should go and see Vanessa, she could help you learn to control your visions, or at least how to handle them.”
I cleared my throat. “How are you?”
He rubbed his stubbled jaw. “Up to my balls in shit.” There was a long pause. He ran his tongue over his teeth.
