The Law of Retaliation Page 2

  Ryan and Alexa glanced over at each other, baffled by the generous offer. They were suspicious, but they tried to keep the situation under control.

  Alexa stuttered, “Tha–Thank you.”

  “No problem, ma'am,” Caden responded with a smile on his face. He said, “Jessie, Nathaniel, get the shit out of the truck.”

  Jessie and Nathaniel smirked and nodded. Vincent wiped the sweat from his brow as he stepped in reverse, anxious.

  Caden leaned forward and said, “Alright, now I'm going to need you to get out of the car.”

  Ryan slowly shook his head and asked, “What? Why?”

  “Why? How do you expect us to change the tire with all of you sitting in there? Come on, get out of the car.”

  Alexa whispered, “We can't get out, Ryan. You don't know what they want or what they're capable of. We're safer waiting in here until someone else comes. We have blankets and water in the trunk. We'll be fine without them.”

  Ryan gazed into his wife's eyes, stony-faced. Alexa's ideas seemed rational, but Caden didn't seem like the type of person to take 'no' for an answer. Still, he had to do what was best for his family. He sighed, then he turned towards Caden.

  Ryan said, “Let's forget about all of this. Don't worry about the damage or anything. I'll pay for it. We don't need your help. We... We kindly decline, okay? Kindly. No disrespect, alright?”

  Caden said, “That's stupid, Ryan. Like I told you: it's dangerous out here. If you try to drive with that flat, you'll crash and burn. If you stay out here all night, you'll freeze. And, if the wrong people stop to help you, you'll die.”

  You'll die—Ryan cocked his head back upon hearing those words, stunned by the ominous warning. Alexa and Lucia wept. The family was trapped and surrounded by a group of psychopaths. They couldn't deny it anymore.

  ***

  Before another word could be uttered, Nathaniel swung an aluminum bat at the rear window on the passenger side. The window shattered, causing shards to hit Lucia's face and neck. As the family screamed and cried, Jessie swung another aluminum bat at the rear window on the driver side. The window cracked, but it didn't shatter.

  Caden smirked and joked, “You weak motherfucker, you need some more protein.”

  “Yeah?” Jessie responded, grinning. “Watch this.”

  Ryan crawled into the backseat as Jessie swung the bat again. The disgruntled father covered Lucia's body with his own. He could feel the shattering glass as the shards hit his back and head.

  Alexa tried to climb into the backseat. Before she could reach her family, Nathaniel pulled Alexa out of the car through the broken window. She kicked and screamed, but to no avail. Her legs and arms were sliced with the shards of glass as she was dragged out, then she was pushed to the floor.

  Ryan shouted, “Alexa! Alexa! Get your damn hands off of her! Get–” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder—Caden and Jessie opened the door behind him. As the men grabbed his shoulders, the father yelled, “No, no, no! Stop it! Stop, damn it!”

  Of course, the young men didn't stop. They tugged on his shoulders, trying their best to pull him away from his daughter. Realizing his grip was strong, the thugs punched the back of Ryan's head while they tugged on his shirt. Ryan gasped as he released his daughter's body. He was too weak. He was pulled out of the car and pushed to the floor.

  Vincent held his hands over his mouth as he watched the encounter, shocked. Caden and Jessie stomped on Ryan with all of their might. They kicked at his head and punted his stomach. His white button-up shirt was stained with muddy boot prints. A gash formed on his right cheek and his right eye was swollen. Blood leaked from a cut under his hair, too, plopping on the pavement under him.

  Jessie grabbed the bat and said, “Let's teach this traitor a lesson.”

  Jessie swung the aluminum bat like a golf club. He struck Ryan's shin, instantly breaking his leg. Mud spattered on his face and clothing, Ryan rolled onto his back and grabbed his shin. Veins bulged on his neck and brow as he screamed at the top of his lungs. His attackers pointed and laughed at him, amused by his pain.

  Nathaniel pushed Alexa onto the hood of the sedan. He grabbed the collar of her shirt, then, with one mighty tug, he ripped her shirt down the center. The man leered at her perky breasts, which were veiled by a white bra, and he licked his lips as he stared at her belly button. Deviant thoughts ran through his young mind.

  Alexa crossed her arms and covered her chest, embarrassed. She stammered, struggling to say a single word.

  Nathaniel slapped her with enough force to give her whiplash. Alexa fell back on the hood of the car, dazed by the blow. She whimpered as she felt Nathaniel's hands on her breasts. She didn't have the opportunity to fight back. The deviant teenager ripped the bra off of her chest, revealing her brown nipples and jiggly breasts.

  As he ogled her breasts, Nathaniel whispered, “Not bad for a girl like you.”

  He leaned over the hood of the car, hunching over his victim. He tightly squeezed her breasts, one in each hand, then he sucked on her nipple.

  Alexa slapped and kicked him, but to no avail. Her attacks couldn't stop his assault. She turned and stared into the sedan through the windshield. She grimaced and sobbed upon spotting her daughter. Lucia cried as she watched the attacks. She watched her father's brutal beating, she witnessed her mother's sexual assault.

  Tears dripping from her eyes and saliva overflowing in her mouth, Alexa cried, “Don't look! Don't look, baby! Please, don't look!”

  Ryan staggered to his feet. He stumbled towards the sedan, dragging his broken leg behind him. He punched Nathaniel's face—one, two, three punches. His hits didn't seem to hurt him, though. He was too weak to save his wife.

  Blood dripping over his left eye, Ryan barked, “Get off of her, bastard! Get away from her!”

  Nathaniel leaned away from Alexa. He smirked and said, “Whatever. I don't want your AIDS anyway, you nasty whore.” He hit the woman's face with his elbow, breaking her nose and dazing her. He chuckled, then he said, “Good night, cunt.”

  As Nathaniel walked away, Ryan gently slapped Alexa's cheek, trying his damnedest to awaken her. Alexa coughed and groaned, snorting as blood clogged her nostrils.

  Ryan said, “Get up, baby. Get up. We have–”

  Lucia's shriek echoed through the forest. Ryan and Alexa peered into the sedan. Through their blurred vision, they could see the men in their car. Jessie unbuckled the seat belt and Caden carried Lucia out of the car. The girl tried to fight, she really did, but a five-year-old's punches could barely harm a young adult.

  Ryan limped towards the crew. He grabbed Vincent's shoulder and said, “Stop them. Please, don't do this. Have some–”

  Ryan screamed as Jessie struck the small of his back with the bat. He fell to his knees in front of Vincent. Vincent stared at him with a set of remorseful eyes. He took two steps in reverse, then he ran away. He climbed into the truck along with Caden, Nathaniel, and Lucia. Jessie sprinted away from the sedan and hopped into the muscle car.

  Alexa tried to grab onto the spoiler of the muscle car, but her grip was weak. She was dragged off of the hood of the sedan as the muscle car sped away. She rolled on the ground until she stopped four meters away from the sedan.

  As the truck reversed and pulled away from the Martins' car, Ryan stumbled to the center of the road. He waved and screamed, trying his best to stop the truck—but to no avail. The front bumper of the car hit Ryan's waist as the vehicle sped past him, causing him to fall to the floor.

  Ryan quickly staggered to his feet, then he lurched forward—giving chase. Due to his broken leg, he tumbled to the floor near Alexa. Yet, the couple continued to crawl forward, determined to rescue their daughter. The couple kept their eyes locked on the truck.

  Only thirty meters away from the scene of the crime, one of the truck's doors swung open and Lucia fell out of the speeding vehicle.

  Ryan and Alexa stopped and gasped as they watched the girl roll on the pavement like a
rag doll. The area was dark and they could only see the figure's silhouette, so they hoped they were wrong. No parent in the world would ever want to see their five-year-old daughter fall out of a speeding vehicle.

  Alexa stuttered, “Tha–That wasn't her. It... It can't be her.”

  Disregarding his wife's cries, Ryan crawled forward. He was only able to crawl three meters before he stopped again. Someone climbed out of the car—one of the young men. He couldn't identify him, though. The man lifted his right arm, revealing a handgun in his hand.

  Wide-eyed, Ryan shouted, “Wait! Don't–”

  He winced as a gunshot echoed through the forest. He froze, paralyzed by his fear. His life with his daughter flashed before his very eyes. He watched as the man climbed into the truck, then the vehicle drove off. Through the insufferable pain of their injuries, the parents stumbled down the road. By the time they reached their daughter, the truck and the muscle car were long gone.

  “My baby!” Alexa cried as she staggered to her knees near Lucia. “What... What did they do to you, baby? Oh, God, why would they do this?!”

  Ryan stumbled closer to the pair, dragging his leg behind him. He fell to his knees in front of his daughter. He ran his teary eyes over the girl's dead body, shocked. His daughter was shot in the chest. Her stomach, a small belly, didn't move.

  Ryan cried, “She... She's not breathing...” He placed both of his hands over the gunshot wound, trying his best to stop the excessive bleeding. He said, “Lulu, baby, please wake up. Let's... Let's go eat some s'mores, okay? Come on, baby, wake up.”

  Alexa placed Lucia's head on her lap and stroked her forehead. She tried her best to comfort her. The girl didn't respond to her parents' words or gestures. She was dead.

  With blood on his hands, Ryan stared down the road and shouted, “Goddammit! You bastards! You... You sick bastards!”

  Alexa closed her eyes and wept as she rocked back-and-forth. Tears dripped from her eyes and plopped on Lucia's cheeks. Ryan sniveled as he gently rubbed his daughter's shoulder. He removed his shirt and covered her body with the garment so they wouldn't have to see her wound. The parents cried together, saddened by the shocking loss.

  Chapter Two

  Two Years Later

  A lot could change in two years. Leaves could change from green to yellow—twice. Young adults could graduate from high school and begin college. Governments could change from liberal to conservative. Court cases could be tried—and dismissed.

  Ryan and Alexa drove through the forest, stern and silent. The couple found themselves sitting in the same seats—Ryan in the driver's seat, Alexa in the passenger seat. The headlights of their black sedan led them through the woods of Middle-of-Nowhere, Pennsylvania. Their worlds changed, but the forest still felt the same—desolate and depressing. Like the rest of the world, the couple changed over time.

  Ryan had a scar on his right cheek, which served as a permanent reminder of that dreadful day. His face was covered in a short, trimmed beard. His brown hair was still long and wavy. He put on a few pounds of muscle, lean and strong. He appeared hardened and perpetually serious. After his daughter's death, no one could blame him for growing cold and distant.

  Alexa's long, curly hair was snipped. Her hair was short and curly, barely covering her ears. For some women, a new haircut translated to a new life. It was true for the young woman, too. She didn't gain weight—in muscle or fat—but she grew distant and cold like her estranged husband. She didn't trust strangers before the incident, she couldn't trust anyone afterward.

  The sedan pulled onto the side of the road until it rolled to a stop. The couple sat in silence, anxious. They reached the site of their daughter's death. They didn't have anything to say about it.

  Ryan reached into the backseat and grabbed a bouquet of white roses, then he climbed out of the car. He approached the exact area of Lucia's death. Alexa exited the sedan and approached her husband. She stood beside him as she stared at the floor, depressed. The couple glanced at each other. Again, they didn't share a word.

  Ryan neatly placed the bouquet of flowers on the side of the road. The white roses were supposed to symbolize Lucia's innocence. The couple chose the flowers together before they departed for their trip.

  They returned to their car, then they sped off. A minute felt like an hour on the desolate road. Still, they drove for ten minutes before the silence was broken.

  Alexa asked, “Are you sure you know where you're going?” Keeping his eyes on the road, Ryan nodded and grunted—yeah. Alexa sighed, then she said, “I could use more than a nod, Ryan. If you really want this to work, you have to talk to me. Say something.”

  “I know where I'm going,” Ryan responded without glancing over at Alexa. “I've been watching this lake house for a few weeks. I've seen the punk walk in-and-out of the house, as smug as ever. I've seen him... I've seen him talking to his parents, having barbecues with his friends and family, smoking weed and drinking every night on his patio... I've seen this little punk celebrating life as if nothing ever happened. I did it all while you were busy crying and smoking, too.”

  Alexa sneered in disgust, offended by her husband's hostility. Although the subject was sensitive, she didn't mind slinging mud back at him.

  She stared down at her lap and responded, “I'm sorry. I needed time to mourn Lucia's death.” She tapped her chest and said, “I needed to cry, too. We both know you spent most of your time crying and screaming when they did... that to us.”

  “It's always my fault, isn't it?”

  Alexa nodded and said, “Yeah. It was your fault. Don't worry, though, 'babe,' I'm going to burn in hell with you. You're not alone. I failed to protect her, too. We failed to protect her. We were 'great' parents, weren't we?”

  “You're miserable.”

  The interior of the car became silent after the brief argument. There was nothing else to say about the situation. How was your day? How are you feeling?—civility died with the death of their daughter.

  Alexa gasped as Ryan took a sharp left turn. He drove off of the road and into the forest. The car bounced as it rolled over the rocks, bushes, and holes on the ground, causing the couple to sway left-and-right. He only drove ten meters into the woods, then he stopped the car behind a leafy bush and between two trees. They were hidden from the public eye. The car was swallowed by the darkness as Ryan turned and pulled the key out of the ignition.

  Alexa asked, “What are we doing here? This isn't the place.”

  Ryan nodded and said, “You're right. I always parked here before dawn so no one would see me, then I'd leave before midnight.” He leaned forward and pointed out the passenger window. He said, “Their lake house is just beyond those trees. It's a two-story house, but it looks like it's bigger than that. It has a big patio with a jacuzzi. From the patio, there's a path that leads down to the lake. It's all private property.”

  Alexa stared out her window, curious. Her husband conducted more surveillance than a government spy. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't turn microwaves into cameras. After the court cases, he spent his days watching them, though, and Alexa appreciated that.

  Alexa asked, “Are you sure he's here?”

  “Like I said, I've been watching this lake house for weeks. I may have missed a few nights, but I've been here at least six days a week. That bastard always showed up around 9:30 PM, so he should be there right now. If he's not there, then... then he's probably getting shit-faced somewhere else. His parents will be here, though. They'll be waiting to welcome him with open arms.”

  Alexa didn't conduct any surveillance, so she had to rely on Ryan's knowledge about the lake house. Prior to joining him on their journey, she vowed to support Ryan until they accomplished their goal. She nodded—okay.

  Ryan adjusted the rear-view mirror and stared into the back seat. A large black duffel bag sat on the center seat in the back. The wooden handle of a sledgehammer protruded from the bag.

  As he gazed at the handle, Ryan said, “T
his is it, Alexa. We're going to get him tonight and no one is going to stand in our way. If anyone tries to stop us, we kill them. That's the plan. That's always been the plan.” He glanced over at his wife and said, “Once it begins, we won't be able to turn back. This... This will change our lives for the better. Hell, our lives could be ending within a few hours. To be honest, I welcome that, but... You realize that, don't you? This is most likely the end, okay?”

  Alexa vacantly stared down at the glove box in front of her. She gritted her teeth and breathed deeply through her nose. On the surface, she appeared frightened. Gambling with life and death was naturally horrifying.

  Alexa smiled and said, “I know. Don't worry about me. I've been waiting for this moment for months. Ever since he got off with a slap on the wrist, I've been thinking about snapping his fucking wrist. I've been thinking about... about cutting his wrists and watching him bleed out—slowly and painfully. Yeah, I'm ready for this. I don't mind dying, either.”

  “Then we're on the same page. Don't die too soon, though. I want you to see this through until the end. You might hate me, but I want you to get your vengeance. I want us to punish this punk. Then, we... we can split ways and close this chapter of our lives. Even if it's the last one...”

  Ryan and Alexa gazed into each other's eyes. The couple obviously harbored some resentment towards each other, blaming one another for their child's tragic death, but they still loved each other. They carried a burden of guilt and hatred together. They nodded in agreement.

  Ryan asked, “Are you ready to start this?”

  “Yes. Yes, I'm ready.”

  The couple climbed out of the car. Alexa stretched and glanced around the woods, preparing herself for the inevitable mayhem. Ryan reached into the backseat and retrieved the duffel bag. He furrowed his brow as he reached into the bag, as if he were searching for something.