Page 19 of Dark Surrender

“Yes. I’m alive.”

“There’s a dead man in the room with me,” she blubbers. “There’s blood all over the floor. His eyes are staring at me. I don’t know what’s happening.”

Shit.

“What do you remember?” I ask.

“I don’t remember anything.”

“The Hamptons?”

“Yes. We had dinner.”

“And nothing after?”

“No. I… I have a headache. My mouth is so dry.”

Licking my teeth, I notice my mouth is the same. “Do you know the man in there with you?” I check.

“Yes. He was one of Daddy’s friends.”

That checks, given we’re both here and don’t remember a damn thing.

A rustling outside the door has me shutting up as I prepare to fight whoever decides to pay me a visit. Not sure what good it will do, given these shackles, but I’ll fuckin’ try.

A pink nose pokes through a broken section at the bottom of the door. Nails scratch the wood as it sniffs, sniffs, sniffs along the edge, testing the barrier at the bottom before finding a rotten spot that gives way, and it squeezes itself into the room with me.

It’s small, with white, gray fur.

An opossum.

You know, those hideous creatures with beady eyes and an unnaturally long tail. One of those things.

It takes one long look at me, hisses like I’ve ruined its day, then passes out right in front of the door.

Great. Just one more fucking thing to deal with—an overly dramatic opossum that better not attack me once it gets up.

CHAPTER TEN

Standing in the doorway of our father’s hunting cabin- or that’s what he called it when we were children- I sigh at Dee’s current state. She’s covered in blood, with her latest kill spread out on the floor, starfish-style. Using a scalpel, she cuts strips of his still-warm flesh, from sternum to hip. Each piece is about an inch wide. With a smile, she holds up her latest bit to show me and wiggles it before tossing it into the open cooler that’s drenched in blood.

“Yum,” I deadpan, giving her shit.

Not fazed by my sarcasm, she flips me off and gets back to work, whistling as she does. This is where Dee shines. I couldn’t tell you the last time we had the cabin this full. Most of her kills are on location, just like the drug dealers last week. She rarely gets a chance to take her time and savor each moment. Dad would be proud. Dad would have loved this.

“Was the last time we had this many people here when Dad had me lure those guys from church?” I ask Dee, knowing she’ll remember the details far better than I do.

I was a teenager then. Around eighteen. Which would have made Dee underage.

Dipping her chin, she hums a yes.

That’s what I thought. Dad was convinced the middle-aged pastor and his sons, a few towns over, were molesting children. I was ordered to attend Sunday service and befriend the boys. That wasn’t hard. We bonded quickly, and within a month, I convinced them and their father to come fish in our pond. In case you were wondering, we don’t have a pond, but they didn’t know that.

Dad locked all five of them in this very cabin, which is just an old, patchwork building with eight rooms—four on each side—two of which we no longer use. They lost their doors in a storm, and we never bothered to fix them. The roof has needed replacing since before we were born. Somehow, it’s still standing—probably because of all the moss and other plants growing across it. Water seeps through the cracks whenever it rains, and there are always a few yellow jacket nests stirring up trouble this time of year. All in all, it’s a solid place for Dee’s victims, and its location couldn’t be more perfect. Set in the woods, miles from anyone, with a cliff just close enough to use as our disposal.

How Dad managed to get away with murdering that family all those years ago remains a mystery to me, but he was clever. Clever enough not to have the hunting cabin on our property, yet still within walking distance. Clever enough to raise two daughters capable of kidnapping six people with nothing more than a little time, a blanket, a van, and drugs stolen from a local dealer, who is now conveniently dead.

While Dee does her thing, I walk the perimeter of the cabin. With three of the six captives already dead, I stop to eavesdrop on the three rooms on the opposite side.