Slaves to Evil - 11 Read Online Free

Matt from two empty sockets where his eyes should have been.
    “Sorry, friend. You can try the textile mill, but they’re not hiring these days.”
    Another Patriot muttered sourly, “They hired plenty of ragheads.”
    Matt felt the others watching him. He gave a derisive snort. “Same story everywhere,” he said. “No jobs left for Americans.”
    The men nodded in agreement. He’d passed the first test.

    Elena’s sharp voice intruded. “Whatever you’re going to do to me, get on with it already.”
    “I’m not going to do anything to you,” said Matt.
    “Great,” she answered. “Then let me go.”
    “I can’t. You’ll try to kill me again.”
    She didn’t deny it.
    Matt went on. “I have something I need to do here. Then I’ll leave. I’ll tell someone where to find you. You’ll be fine.”
    But he’d already spotted the problem with this plan. Once free, Elena would probably keep coming after him. He’d just have to deal with that when they got there. “For now,” he told her, “I need for you to stay put. I have to get some things.”
    Matt had no rope in his duffel. The best he could do was tear a T-shirt into strips and knot those together. He used that to bind Elena’s hands and secure them to a doorknob. There was nothing else in the empty room to tie her to. When he finished, he double-checked the knots, wondering how long they’d hold.
    Elena saw his uncertainty. “Wow,” she said. “You suck at this kidnapping thing.”
    He faced her. “Thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

CHAPTER TWO
     
    Matt headed to the local big-box store with sixty-two dollars and fifteen cents to spend. He picked up antiseptic, bandages, and extra-strength ibuprofen. He was getting hungry. Elena was probably hungry too. Of course, she might not accept any food he gave her. That would be up to her, he thought, as he picked up a jumbo pack of granola bars and several apples.
    He was more concerned that the makeshift rope wouldn’t hold. For all he knew, she’d already worked herself free. He needed something sturdier. He moved on to the hardware section.
    Matt surveyed the selection of rope. He tugged on some nylon cord. Too stretchy. Would chain be better? He wondered whether this was what serial killers did on the weekend, went comparison shopping for the best restraints.
    “I favor handcuffs myself.” The voice was right beside him. Matt jumped, startled. It was Mr. Dark, dressed in khakis and a plaid shirt, with a baseball cap perched jauntily on his skull. “You can get them at the local S and M shop. They even have some lined with fur. For her pleasure.”
    “What do you want?” Matt muttered.
    “Just offering some advice on the care and feeding of captives.” He leaned in close and Matt smelled his vile breath. “Take it from me—they’re more trouble than they’re worth. I say kill her now.”
    Matt recoiled. “I’m not going to kill her.”
    “Yet.”
    “Ever,” he insisted.
    Mr. Dark nodded thoughtfully. “So you’re going to let her kill you. Interesting strategy.”
    “No,” said Matt. “I’ll find another way.”
    “Such as?” Mr. Dark faced him with bright curiosity.
    Matt was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know yet.”
    “I do.” He put his arm around Matt’s wounded shoulder, hugging him close. Matt tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron. “I’ve gotten to know you since your unfortunate death. And I know that when it comes right down to it, you’ll save your own skin. Even if it means wasting your pretty little prisoner.”
    He grinned. Then suddenly he was gone. Matt didn’t move. The Dark Man was wrong. Yes, he’d killed in self-defense, but the deliberate murder of a young woman with no decay and an understandable grudge was something else entirely. He wouldn’t cross that line. He wouldn’t.
    Matt grabbed the nylon rope. He also picked up a camping lantern and a couple of fleece blankets on the way to the checkout. He