The Cardinal Bird - Book 1: Reverse Harem Series (The Cardinal Series) Page 3

  I continued to fall into light bits of sleep that usually ended when my mind tried to slip into a nightmare. My body would tense up and slip below the surface of the water. Sometimes when that happened, I would subconsciously hold my breath, trained from experience. Other times, I would continue to breathe, unaware as I sank down until the water entered my lungs. This would jolt me awake, coughing and jostling the water into a chaotic state that made the small breathing space at the top get gobbled up by waves. I would still be choking, trying to hold back a cough until the water settled enough for me to try to breathe again.

  I was being drowned over and over again, and if I allowed myself to freak out, it would be only too easy to succumb.

  At one point in the night, I even wondered why I was fighting it. When it happened again, I tried to let myself be swallowed up by the water, but I couldn't do it. Drowning was painful. At least the struggle of it was. The choking, coughing, and burning. Once you accepted it, perhaps it would be calmer, but I had never been able to get to that point.

  That was the genius of the tank. If I was a perseverant person, Nikolai was an innovative one.

  My mind continued to drift. When I was unconscious, I usually thought about bad things, so while I was awake, I tried to focus on the good things in my life.

  I was up before the sun, and that was pretty early considering it was August in Kentucky. The days were long, warm, and golden as summer blazed on strongly. I knew that soon it would start to turn cold as the year progressed into winter, but I had learned to enjoy the short, dark days as well.

  My clothes were already on, crisp and bright if not slightly itchy. My hair was down but brushed out, ready for Mom to put it up in a ponytail with my bow when she woke up. The shoes on my feet were sparkling clean and decorated with glittery hearts. They still squeaked every time I moved. Everything was new, from top to bottom. It had been so hard to pick what to wear from all of the choices I had after "the girls" shopping trip last week. I had 7 shirts, 5 skirts, and 2 new pairs of shoes. That was 70 different outfits! That is just way too much responsibility to ask of a 5-year-old.

  Muffled sounds from downstairs filtered up the stairs to my room as someone woke up. My heart leaped.

  This was happening. This was really happening.

  I hoped that my tossing and turning all night didn't make me too tired later today. As it was right now, I felt like I had enough energy to never need to sleep again.

  I pulled my skirt down and then adjusted my socks, pulling them up and then carefully refolding them back over until they were once again perfect. Barely able to sit still, I waited just until I could smell the flavorful scent of cooking bacon and brewing coffee coming up the stairs before I raced out and flew down. I went as fast as I dared. I had been tripping over everything lately. Mom said it was growing pains and nothing to worry about. It didn't make much sense to me. I didn't feel any pain. I just wished I wouldn't be so clumsy all the time now.

  Mom was in the kitchen humming softly to herself when she noticed me. "Hey dearie, did you sleep very well?"

  I pushed my lip in. "Um, it was hard to."

  She smiled at me and flipped what looked like a pancake into the air, making me giggle at her. "Why don't you go sit at the table. Breakfast is almost done."

  I nodded and ran to my chair. There was already a plate made for me.

  I climbed up into the seat. I wished these growing pains would hurry up and make me actually grow. Instead, I had all of the clumsiness and no changes. Why was I still so short?

  Finally settled, I had nothing to distract me as I thought about my day.

  My heart was racing. It was pounding so loud in my ears that I couldn't stomach the breakfast that was stretched out over the entirety of our dining room table. I felt horrible about it too because it was all my favorite foods: eggs, bacon, oranges--even blueberry muffins.

  "Come on, dear," came my mom's voice from the stove as she plated what smelled like slightly-browned sausage links. The powerful sage drifted through the excited air that had taken over the household.

  It was my first day of kindergarten.

  Mom sat a plate down in front of me, kissing me on the top of my head. “I’ll do your bow after breakfast. Try not to worry about school too much. You'll be great at it. You're super smart and bite-sized.” She bopped me on the nose. “Like those Snickers bars you love so much. The other kids will like you."

  An unrestrained grin split my face, and it somehow managed to get even bigger when I felt my dad drop a kiss on the top of my head, barely breaking his stride on his way to the coffee pot. He was not a morning person either.

  Mom knew that and had lured him up and out of their dark room with the beany, aromatic trail of goodness. He had fallen for the bait hook, line, and sinker.

  Mom brought the last plate to the table and settled in across from us at the same time Dad sat with a grunt at the head of the table, his hand glued to his "World's Greatest Dad" mug.

  It was perfect.

  Water rushed up my nose.

  I stilled, trying to tilt to the side to let it drain out before it reached my lungs, but it didn't help. I ended up coughing anyway, feeling the burn in my sinuses. The pounding pulse in my head was growing worse as a headache developed. It was probably from a combination of coughing and retching mixed with the onset of dehydration.

  Eventually, everything settled back down. I glanced up, startling when I met Kaz's eyes. It was dawn now. It was getting close to 24 hours in here now. My record of four days had been a close call when I was put in here perfectly healthy. I wasn't perfectly healthy this time. It wouldn’t be long.

  My head wasn't the only thing starting to pound. My leg and side were growing uncomfortably hot, despite the slightly less-than-tepid temperature of the water doing its best to numb the feeling. I knew that the wounds were infected, and I idly wondered what would do me in first. It was hard to tell if the holes were bleeding.

  I spent some time wondering which way I would prefer to go. There were so many options right now: starvation, dehydration, exsanguination, infection, and drowning.

  My eyes were closed thinking of the most pleasant way to die of the myriad of options, but I felt the air shift as if there was a huge displacement, almost like a breeze. That was impossible though. The warehouse was closed. It had been since the shootout. I blinked my eyes open, looking out the hole. There was still only a soft glow on everything letting me know it was early morning. I dropped down from my floating position, ignoring the increasing burn in my side and leg as the muscles contracted. I started treading water with my arms as I tilted my head to the side to try to hear.

  Nothing.

  Maybe I already had a bad fever and just couldn't tell because of the water. Surely, I was hallucinating.

  Maybe I should add hallucination to my list of ways to die. It could happen.

  I strained, trying to hear any little sound.

  I didn't hear anything…but there was another displacement of air.

  My body jolted, completely leaving its dozing state. There was no doubt about it. Two displacements of air.

  Had somebody come into the warehouse, glanced around, and then left?

  Had I narrowly missed a rescue when it had been so close?

  I held my breath and nearly cried when I heard someone curse.

  "What the hell?"

  It was a whisper, but it was there.

  Another voice spoke slightly louder, but still at a low volume. "Dammit! We're too late!"

  Chapter 2

  I floated in the tank, wondering what I should do.

  I wanted to call out, but I was scared to at the same time. I didn't know who these people were. From our messages together, Megabyte_1 was from America. The people outside sounded like they were as well. He was supposed to send the Russian authority. Who was my hacker friend to have been able to get a team from America here in just over 24 hours?

  I didn't trust it.

  "Jace has cleared the house. He'll be here soon. We're all clear. Scene is secure," the second voice spoke again at a normal tone. "Brock, can you fill the rest of them in on what's happening? CJ doesn't have eyes on this building."

  "Sure thing," the first deeper and gravelly--I was guessing Brock--added. I couldn't hear it, but I imagined he took some time to walk to a different section of the warehouse because I could only make out some indistinct murmuring as he called the others.

  "What the fuck happened here?" Brock said as he finished up relaying the information. He was much louder this time, nearly shouting out his anger.

  "I'm not sure...Brock, look at the center of the area. What do you see?"

  "I don't know. Fuck! There's so much...there's a body missing," Brock responded. He sounded like a large, angry guy.

  "The question is, where is it?" the other voice questioned smoothly. He sounded older than Brock, more seasoned.

  "Fuck if I know. This is just messed up," Brock said once more. "Karl, I let the others know what was going on. Do you want them to meet us here to document or head back to the motel? Your agency guys are in charge of clean-up, right?"

  Agency?

  The last unknown voice, Karl, was slow to respond. "I think that they are fine to head back to the motel. We can wrap this up here quickly. Obviously, something went wrong. Someone was tipped off about Byte-Syzed reaching out to us. I doubt there will be anything important left behind."

  I froze and slipped under the water before popping back up again, mad at myself for making a noise and straining to hear more.

  "What was that?" the growly voice, Brock asked.

  Had they heard me?

  I didn't have much time to think about it though. There was another displacement of air as well as a bang as someone threw the warehouse doors against the walls.

  "Did you find anything?" Karl's authoritative voice asked. It sounded like he was facing my direction instead of where I knew the doors to be.

  "Nyet, the other warehouse was dirty," a distinctly Russian man said.

  My blood froze. The odds of any Russian in Russia not being with Nikolai Ivanov were slim to none. Was Megabyte_1 with Nikolai also? He was the only one who’d known my hacker name, Byte-Syzed. Was that how Ivanov found out I’d shared his location?

  But…if that were the case, why did he question who I sent the coordinates to?

  "You mean clean?" Brock asked.

  "No, the house was very dirty.” The new speaker switched to Russian. “Slobs.”

  Someone made some sort of grumbling noise. I doubted it was Karl. He seemed to be in charge. I had a feeling that it was Brock.

  "What happened in here?" the Russian questioned, either not hearing or just ignoring Brock all together.

  Karl explained as his voice traveled around the warehouse. "Lots of dead armed men. Probably the lackeys. Who knows why they started shooting each other?”

  "Russian roulette," the Russian said simply.

  "Aleks, sometimes you make no sense," Brock grumbled.

  "Quiet, Rock. What do you know? I am expert."

  "Okay then, Alexa. Why don't you explain it to us?"

  "Easy. Last man standing survives. That guy there was maybe last one alive before he was too weak. See how he is furthest from circle with a blood trail?"

  There was a grunt but nothing else.

  "That makes sense," Karl drawled. "But that still doesn't explain what happened in the middle. It's its own separate puddle. Someone clearly died there. So where are they now?"

  My eyes flew to Kaz's body just beyond the ventilation hole. The last 24 hours had really caused a lot of discoloration. He was nearly unidentifiable from the sweet, innocent boy he had been in life. I let out a choked sob, trying to stifle it. My hand flew up, just half a second too late to completely silence it.

  "This place gives me the creeps," Brock said. "I just got goosebumps. Do you guys keep hearing things?"

  "Are you scared, Rock?" Aleks asked, a teasing lilt to his accented voice.

  "Shut it, Alexa."

  “Boys,” Karl said, reprimanding.

  I heard footsteps approach. Suddenly something tapped against the edge of the tank, causing the vibrations to echo through the water.

  "Guys, there's something in this...box," a new voice said. I wasn’t sure when he’d shown, but he’d remained silent until now because it wasn’t the authoritative voice of Karl, the gravelly anger of Brock, nor the deep, accented voice of Aleks.

  Going out on a limb, I was guessing that these guys had to know Megabyte_1. He was the only one I’d contacted. Likewise, these four men seemed too oblivious about what had happened to be in Ivanov’s back pocket. That should've meant that I could trust them. However, the Russian, Aleks, was making me nervous. What if he was somehow connected to Nikolai? He just had to be. The odds were too great.

  "In the box? What?" Karl asked, seeming to perk up.

  "I don't know," the new voice said. There was some more tapping on the wall. It continued to make a muffled, vibrating sound. "It's like it's not empty."

  "Jace, Brock, go check it out."

  I heard the boots as they approached. I still hadn't completely decided if I could trust these people yet, but it seemed like I wasn't going to have to worry about making a choice.

  They were coming, and they were coming quickly.

  I avoided looking at Kaz as I held my breath. Boots clanged up the steps. I wasn't sure if my hearing wasn't used to sound yet, or if Brock and Jace were bigger guys, but metal rang out violently as they ascended the grate stairs.

  "Fuck!" Brock cursed out.

  It suddenly got brighter in the tank, and I couldn't help but look up. There was a halo of light around Kaz, lighting up his matted and bloody hair.

  "I think we found the missing body," the silent one, Jace, said.

  Angry footsteps did little to rattle the solid, heavy lid of the tank, but they still echoed out loudly as someone walked across it. They were so close.

  "Fuck! It's just a kid," Brock said, crouching close to Kaz's body but still out of sight. His flashlight was nearly blinding though.

  I heard more footsteps climbing the stairs. It sounded as though the other two were making their way up the rickety platform. I hoped it held up to all the weight.

  "There are clothes as well," Karl said.

  "Clothes?" Brock asked, his boots grinding softly as it sounded like he twisted. When he did, the flashlight ran right across my face. Startled, I ducked down in the water, cursing myself at the soft sloshing sound.

  Rationally, I knew. I knew my only chances of survival were to call out. To ask to be saved. But my lungs were locked up. I was terrified. I held my breath, hoping that Brock hadn't heard.

  "Karl?" Jace asked, somewhere nearby, but not as close as Brock seemed to be.

  There was a rustling sound. "Yeah, the clothes belonged to a female, small. Maybe a teenager? They're covered in blood too."

  I swallowed as I heard a volley of questions from the guys, too quick to follow who asked what.

  "How much blood?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "How do you know they're a girl's?"

  "Those clothes are too small! They must belong to a malyshka, a little girl."

  The last one I could tell was Aleks, but I didn't have much more time to decipher the others because Brock’s voice was closer than it had been even before. I glanced up and held my breath. Just over the top of and behind Kaz's tangled, dirty hair was a pair of light gray eyes, and they were locked right onto mine.

  "MOTHERFUCK!" the eyes disappeared from sight before a flashlight was shone directly into my eyes. The glare blinded me, and I couldn't see. It scared me enough to dip below the waterline, but thankfully nothing went up my nose.

  It was only maybe a second later that I broke the surface, but the world above was a completely different scene. Noise reverberated around me, disjointed and confusing.

  "--there's a girl in there?"

  "--o way. There's no--"

  "Let's clear the body!"

  "--ow are we supposed to get this lid off?"