WATCH HER DIE (Shifter Series Book 2)

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE PICTURES ON THE WALL

They rushed William to the hospital, and the doctors immediately started operating on him upon arrival. While Derik and Kevin sat outside the operating room, waiting nervously with their fingers crossed, some security men stood in the background, keeping an eye on them.

Kevin sat on a bench, gently tapping his feet against the floor. He squinted uneasily at Natasha who paced the room nervously. Her lips were restless as she said silent prayers for her dad’s quick recovery. He felt an urge to put his arms around her and tell her it’s all going to be fine. But what would it lead to?

Derik turned to gaze at her as she paced, then clutched her arm. “Don’t fret over it. Worrying won’t make your dad get better any faster,” he said. “Try to relax. It’ll help calm your nerves.”

Natasha took a seat beside him—directly opposite Kevin. But that didn’t stop her worries; she fidgeted in her seat still. And her gaze found Kevin. They exchanged glances for a moment, then quickly turned away when they noticed.

Derik noticed the tension between them, but pretended not to see them. Some minutes later, he stood up and left without a word. He left Kevin and Natasha in awkward silence. They sat facing each other, avoiding each other’s gaze.

Kevin didn’t know what to say to her. His mind returned to his earlier encounter with T-Murek. He was still shaken by what had happened. He knew better than to think T-Murek had actually invaded William’s home just to kidnap Natasha. It had to be for a much bigger reason.

Maybe T-Murek had other intensions in mind—one that did not involve k********g Natasha. That seemed like the only explanation. But then came another thought. Is T-Murek just trying to build fear in me with these failed attempts? Because if he is, then it’s working.

He turned to look at Natasha. She sat with her arms folded and her face thrown in the other direction. When it became too obvious that she was avoiding his gaze, he stood up and left without a word. He joined Derik in his car parked in front of the hospital.

“What was that between you two?” Derik asked right after he got in.

“What was what?”

“Come on, Kevin, don’t play dumb with me,” he said, starting the car engine. “I saw the way you looked at her.”

“The way I looked at her?” he snapped a reply at him, turning to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what? Forget it.” The conversation would only get more awkward if they continued.

In the silence that followed, Derik pulled out a map and placed it in front of him. He pressed a finger on a certain location on the map and said, “This is 57 old Avenue hills. It would take us about an hour or two to get there.”

“We had better be on our way then.”

The engine roared to life and Derik drove away. After an hour on the road, Derik drove under a large overhead sign that read, Welcome to Old Avenue Hills. There were a few houses around, and most of them were made of wood. There was less movement on the street and no vehicles plied the road. It looked deserted.

“Only a handful of individuals live down here,” Kevin observed. “No wonder T-Murek chose this place for his hideout.”

The houses on both sides of the road lessened, and the street became more geometric as they progressed: rock patterns, living grass, actual water. Derik rounded a corner and approached an old bungalow near the tracks. He stopped in front of a little building.

The sun hung over them, a hot puncture.

Kevin glanced out the window at the derelict building. “Is this the place?” he asked.

Derik looked over the map, then stole a quick glance at the building through the window, looking at the c***k that ran from the base of the house all the way up to the ceiling. “According to our map here, this should be it.”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed at the building. “Doesn’t look quite like the place a psychopath killer would pick to torture his victims.”

“Well, let’s go check it out. See what we find.” He turned off the engine.

They stepped out of the car.

Derik drew his gun and walked cautiously towards the mini-stairs sitting at the facade, Kevin following closely behind. They climbed up the stairs quietly. Derik was careful not to make a sound. Reaching the door, Derik pressed his shoulder against the wall, holding up the gun close to his chest. He counted to three, then forced the door to open with a powerful kick.

He dashed inside, pointing his gun in every direction, as if expecting to see someone. No one was inside the room. Aside from a brick fireplace and an old clock, the room seemed empty. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling at every corner. He found another door just a little to his right and dashed through it into another room. Empty. Kevin walked in after he’d announced it was clear.

“I don’t think anyone has been in here in a long time,” he noted, glancing at the old furniture that was coated with dust.

Derik’s eyes were drawn to a door hidden behind a ripped curtain far across the room. His brows drew together. As he moved towards the door, the wooden floor creaked with every step.

He turned the door handle, and the door gave a slight creak as it slowly opened. Then he rushed in, pointing his gun in all directions. As soon as he was inside, he froze at the entrance, and his gun was lowered.

Awe transformed his face at what he saw. His mouth moved with great difficulty, as if he were trying to remember how to speak. Kevin blinked in surprise as he stepped into the room and stood by his side. He stood there, agape with wonder.

The walls inside that room were completely covered with photographs, too many to be numbered. There was nothing in the room except images of people in picture frames, all hanging on the wall.

Derik stood in the doorway, gawking around with confused eyes. “What the hell is this place?”

Kevin walked around, glancing at the photographs that hung on the wall. He stopped in his tracks when a picture caught his attention. Walking to it, he noticed it was a photograph of Mirabel in a photo frame.

Wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes when he noticed the photograph had been crossed off with red ink. “Wait… isn’t this Mirabel, the little girl that was tortured to death?” Kevin did not hide his surprise. “What’s her photograph doing down here, and why is there a big X marked over it?”

Derik didn’t know how to answer that. He came and stood at his side, scrutinizing the photograph. His attention deviated to the next picture frame beside Mirabel’s.

“I know this lady.” Recognition crossed his face as he looked up at the next picture. It was a photograph of Mrs Eulich.

Derik’s lashes fluttered when he noticed the X mark drawn over it. “But why are their photographs crossed off with red ink?” His eyes moved on to the next photograph and it was someone he knew.

It made little sense.

“I don’t understand,” Kevin shrugged his shoulders as his gaze travelled across the room—from one photograph to another. “I know most of these people. Old friends and neighbours from Fallout.”

His eyes were drawn to the photographs of Leonard and Murphy placed side-by-side. Both photographs had also been crossed off with red ink. Kevin ran the tip of his finger over the picture, then looked over it. His finger was stained red with the ink.

“This one was marked recently,” he observed.

Almost immediately, his eyes fell on another photograph beside Leonard’s. “Wait, isn’t this Sam McClain?” Kevin said, studying it closely. “… and unlike some of these photographs, this one is unmarked.”

Derik examined the picture and his eyebrows waggled. “I finally get it!” He felt the air haul out of his lungs. “This is definitely T-Murek’s layer. This room isn’t where he keeps hostage, but pictures of people he intends to torture... or the ones he’s already tortured. This room is where he makes his sinister plans and decides his next victim.”

Of course, it finally made sense. “Each person whose photograph has already been crossed off are those he’d already cut down.”

Kevin’s eyebrows rose. “Which means—”

“Which means Sam is still alive?” Derik affirmed. “Won’t be long before Sam’s body turns up in the street of Burnout or at City Park—just like his colleagues before him.”

Then Kevin noticed an unmarked photo placed differently from the rest. The orientation of the photograph inside the picture frame piqued his interest. He took it out of its frame and examined it closely. It was a full photograph of a woman he’d never met before. She was dressed in a long, ice red, satin nightgown with a matching floral print robe. Her long dark hair was tangled around her head.

“This one hasn’t been marked, which means she’s still alive.” He quickly showed it to Derik. “Any idea who she might be?”

He whirled to face him—examined the photograph for a moment, then said, “Am I supposed to know her?”

“Unlike the rest, this photograph isn’t coated with dust. It seemed to have been inserted recently, and it was placed a bit differently from the rest. Seems someone was in a hurry when they’d put her photograph in its frame.”

Derik took the picture from him and inspected it. He contorted his face as if trying to remember. Nothing came to mind. “I don’t think I’ve ever set eyes on this lady. I’m sure I’d remember if I did.”

Then he noticed a text scrawled on the back of the photograph, and his eyes narrowed. He turned to look behind, and his eyes widened at the words written in faint blank ink.

“It is an address?” Kevin scrutinized.

“44 Rashbrow Street,” Derik read aloud.

“You think that might be where she’s living?” he asked, looking over the address.

“It’s possibly the address of the place T-Murek intends to torture her.” Derik countered, sliding the photograph into his breast pocket. “Either way, we need to check it out. Whoever this lady is, she’s in mortal danger. We need to find out why T-Murek targeted her and warn her before it’s too late.”