That there is strength in numbers has always been a debatable premise – never more so than when the motley crew of Ward, Jefferson, Devante, the surname-less bodyguard and man Friday, and a likely concussed probationary journalist.
We all had our individual strengths in terms of savvy and critical thinking ability, but with the exception of Devante, brute strength and fierceness were not among those strengths.
Following a series of angry hisses and whispers, stepping on one another's heels, and the occasional misplaced hand as we trailed one another single file in the dark corridor, we heard a muffled clatter to our left and knew that we'd either stumbled across a giant den of rats, Ward had correctly guessed this facility was a vampire apartment complex, or Daniel Pogano was on the other side of the door...possibly with Tasha Stone in captivity.
Jefferson had convinced me that Tasha might be a red herring, a victim of Pogano taking advantage of the other kidnappings.
Without saying a word, we all grew still with the singular purpose of steeling our nerves before bursting through the door.
But we didn't have to steel ourselves for long; nor was there a burst. The door swung open, and Pogano, carrying a green-bulbed penlight pointed upward, illuminating his face like a ghastly Halloween mask, stepped into the hallway.
I gave him credit for not screaming like a cartoon character and keeling over from a heart attack. Instead, he pointed the light at us, swung it up and down as if to size us up, and then hung his head and sighed.
"How did you find me?
"I followed...." Ward started to say, before I wobbled forward, poked the professor in the chest, and shouted, "Where's Tasha Stone?"
It was difficult to make out facial expressions, but Pogano seemed taken aback and didn't directly respond to Ward's answer or my question. He simply turned to go back inside his storage locker.
Devante then put his heft to use and grabbed the elderly man by the arm. "Nah, my man. We don't know what you got in there. You might be strapped. Either we all go in or nobody does."
That was the first time Devante had spoken since I'd met him and his boss less than twenty-four hours earlier.
"Yes," responded an exasperated Pogano. "That's what I meant. Come with me. There's something I need to show you all."
We may as well have agreed to step blindly off a cliff. One by one, we hopped tentatively through the door and then gasped in unison when our eyes adjusted to painfully bright floodlight sitting on the floor in one corner of the large room, pointing upward at a forty-five-degree angle.
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Bad Break: A Novel
Mystery / ThrillerBlake Wilson is accustomed to plucking nerves. He's young. He's Black. He rarely bites his tongue. And he's a dogged newspaper reporter who lives by the mantra of comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable. But when he catches a brutal...
