Fighting Conviction by Greer Rivers

Chapter Thirty-Five

Ellie was surprised the small room wasn’t making her hyperventilate. But maybe it was because she was holding her breath as she watched an even worse nightmare unfold. Through the crack between the pantry doors, Ellie watched as the investigator let a big, tall man in all black inside his home.

Who’s that?

“No one good.”

“I-I didn’t think you were comin’. I left as soon as Rusnak told me to.”

“I do not care.” The heavy Russian accent tripped a circuit in Ellie’s brain.

Is that the same—

“Yep. That’s one of the guys who took us.”

“Um… right. Well, I was actually leavin’, so, um. You can too. I-I’ll call Rusnak later.”

She couldn’t see the Russian’s expression. The men had moved into the living room and all Ellie could see was half the investigator scratching his arm.

“You do not want this?”

There was a deafening silence in the room and Ellie imagined she could almost hear the investigator arguing with his wife in his mind.

“Is that—”

“Da. Boss said you want good stuff.” Ellie heard a faint rustling. “You do not want this now?”

Ellie could hear the investigator whispering.

“Who is this you are talking to? Is there someone else here?”

“No! No, I um… I talk to myself sometimes.”

The Russian grunted. “I tell boss you do not want good stuff.”

Muffled footsteps grew louder as they moved from the carpet to the linoleum in the kitchen.

“Wait!”

The footsteps stopped.

“H-how good?” The investigator gulped so loudly it hurt Ellie’s throat. “It looks smaller than normal.”

“Pure. You do not need more now.”

The investigator cursed. Ellie thought back to the park. Was this another drug deal? Her heart sank as the realization slowly dawned on her that her easy out was dwindling away. She had no idea what he was like when he was high. If he was hallucinating, shooting people, and acting irrationally while sober or coming down, she didn’t want to wait to find out.

Trying to ease the pain from her awkward position, Ellie shrugged her shoulders. At least she’d become much more limber and flexible over the past couple of months. Still, having her arms wrenched back for what felt like hours was getting hard to endure.

She was exhausted, physically and mentally. She closed her eyes but refused to sit. She didn’t want to be caught in a worse physical position by sitting down with her hands tied behind her back.

She looked at Virginia. The poor girl was still breathing just as heavily, and her eyes were still closed. While the investigator had helped Ellie hop to the pantry, he’d had to drag Virginia. All she’d let out was a weak moan. As bad as it sounded, the low wail was still music to Ellie’s ears. Being in pain meant she was still alive.

Ellie caught movement in the sliver of light she had and she watched as the investigator sat down with his hand outstretched. The Russian placed a small bag into his hand and the investigator clutched it to his heart.

“I-is this gonna be all of it? Or can I have my supply back.” The investigator’s smoker voice came out warbly and hopeful.

“Boss is pleased with you. You work hard for—” Ellie frowned, trying to understand the word but caught back up when she realized it couldn’t have been English. “—They thank you with product you want from now on.”

The investigator paused from rustling around his side table from his chair and gaped. “Forever?”

“Da.”

The investigator huffed and gave a little laugh. “Ha, no shit. Hear that, Cici? We’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get well and everything will be okay.”

“Who is this person you speak to? It is only me, durak.”

“S-sorry. Nobody.”

After a pause, Ellie’s pulse spiked with the fear she’d been found out. She took measure of her breaths to make sure the Russian couldn’t hear her.

“What is all this?”

“All what?” the investigator asked, sounding like something was in his mouth.

“This.”

“Oh, uh, my board?”

“Da. You have pictures and string on this… board.” There was a tsking noise. “Boss would be interested in this information, I think.”

“No… No, no, no. Uh, you won’t tell him, right? It’s just somethin’ I’ve come up with… Ya know, so Rusnak can have all the dirt on everyone he’s workin’ with?”

“You have many people on this board. Does boss know this thing?”

“No, oh, God no. Just me. I’m keepin’ tabs on people for Rusnak, like I said. I’ll be gettin’ him this info as soon as I’m done. No one needs to know yet. It can be just me and you. You won’t tell him, right?”

The Russian grunted. “I will leave you now.”

“Vlad! Vlad, you won’t tell him, right? P-please uh, I’ll get rid of it all, I swear. If he doesn’t want me lookin’ into things I’ll get rid of it.”

“Do not worry, durak. I will not tell boss about this thing.”

The investigator let out an audible sigh. “Th-thanks. Thank you, buddy. I owe ya one.”

“I will leave now. You are… busy. I will go leave by myself.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Um… tell Rusnak I said thanks… please?” the investigator said it with a question in his voice.

The Russian grunted again and heavy footsteps came nearer to the pantry. Ellie backed away from the crack. She heard the rustling of plastic quickly followed by the flick of a lighter. Ellie heard what she assumed was the back door creaking open before she moved back to her position at the light.

The investigator had his sleeve rolled up and a rubber tie wrapped around his bicep. He was pulling the end with his teeth and held a shiny needle in his free hand.

Ellie backed away from the pantry doors. She wanted to get out of her hiding place, but not only did she need to make sure the Russian left, she also didn’t want to see the investigator inject poison into his skin.

Memories of needles pricking into her skin pushed to the front of her mind, but she fought back the panic usually accompanying those thoughts. Part of her wished she could stop him, encourage him to go to rehab like the ghost in his mind tried to do. But the part focused on survival and saving Virginia, knew the moments after he injected would be the easiest window of opportunity to escape.

As Ellie brainstormed, a long, loud, satisfied groan rattled through the house before it abruptly stopped. Ellie peeked between the doors to see the investigator with his head lolled to the side, mouth open, and the needle still in his arm.

“Holy crap,” Ellie whispered.

Is he dead?

“I don’t know. But there’s nothing you can do for him in here.”

Ellie turned to Virginia, the crack shining enough light in the small room for her to see her friend’s pale face and closed eyes.

“V, we gotta get outta here. Come on,” Ellie whispered, hoping she would wake up. A thought crossed her mind and she didn’t know why she didn’t think of it before. Not that she’d had a whole lot of opportunity to think rationally. “Wait, do you have your phone?” Ellie didn’t know anyone’s numbers by heart but maybe they could call 911?

Virginia swallowed and she responded with a hoarse whisper. “Yeah, it’s…” Virginia’s fluttering eyes flashed wide. “El, I-I can’t move my left arm…”

Ellie glanced to see Virginia struggling, trying to roll over to seemingly free her right arm, but her left arm was flopping uselessly. Blood trailed down it and Ellie realized the problem.

“The gunshot… Virginia, I think the bullet did something to your arm.”

Tears streamed down Virginia’s paling face. “I’m tired, Ellie.”

Ellie squeezed her eyes shut as she thought. She was handcuffed and couldn’t get Virginia’s phone, wherever it was, nor could she retrieve her bobby pin from her hair. Could Ellie leave Virginia to run to find help? If that was the best option then she’d do it, but it seemed risky. But maybe a neighbor next door would be home and Ellie could ask them to call 911—

A loud squeaking stopped Ellie’s train of thought dead in its tracks. The back door closed softly, and the owner of heavy footsteps darkened the pantry before passing by. Ellie tiptoed to the sliver of light and saw the same monster of a man looming over the frighteningly still investigator.

“He’s back.”

Unease slithered down Ellie’s spine.

Why?

Sasha was silent as Ellie watched the Russian circle the recliner. He studied the room, a look of disgust staining the hard angles of his face before settling his stare on something out of Ellie’s vision.

He faced the board he’d spoken with the investigator about and fished his phone from his pocket before holding it up for a few minutes.

Is he taking pictures?

He shoved his phone away and rounded the chair to enter the kitchen again, out of Ellie’s sight. Something scraped over the counter and Ellie strained her eyes despite the man not even being in her field of vision, until the Russian got back in her eyesight. She watched, horrified and helpless, as the Russian unscrewed the mason jar lid he carried, sniffed it, and poured it over the investigator’s still body.

Once the jar was empty, he tossed it behind him, causing a thunk where the glass must have fallen to the carpet. The Russian passed by the door again, making Ellie even more on edge. He went back to the living room, with a large mason jar in each hand. He emptied one in the direction of the board before shaking it all over the living room. There was another thunk followed by more splashing. The man had developed a rhythm, but the beat stopped just before Ellie saw him take the investigator’s lighter. She bit her lip from screaming out, as her tired mind finally connected what was happening.

With the lighter in his hand, the Russian continued his deadly cadence, leaving a trail of liquor in and around the kitchen and punctuating the end of each jar by shattering the glass onto the linoleum. His shadow darkened the pantry, and Ellie slowly moved out of eyesight to lean against the wall.

With each crash, slow tears leaked down Ellie’s face, no doubt from the alcohol vapors and the helplessness of her situation. Finally, the morbid song stopped. She closed her eyes, saying one final prayer that she was wrong.

The Russian’s deep voice interrupted Ellie’s thoughts and she had to strain to understand the foreign language.

“Tell the Pakhan he knew too much, but it is done.”

The back door squeaked open and Ellie continued her fervent whisper, hoping saying it out loud would encourage the universe to tell him to leave.

But then there was a flick. The world erupted and Ellie’s hell came to life.