“Lemme get SWAT on the line,” Harris said as Charlie slowed the car to a stop by the front doors.
“Do it, but we have to go in
now
,” Charlie said, with an air of urgency.
“Charlie, we should really wait for the team. It might get dicey in there.”
“We’ve got to go in, Tony. SWAT will take thirty minutes or more to gear up and get here. This woman can’t wait that long. He could be torturing her while we sit down here waiting—a half-hour could make all the difference. No, we’re going in.”
Sighing, Harris nodded. “Go get the front door open. I’ll meet you there.”
Charlie ran to the glass double doors while Harris called in the cavalry. Charlie wanted to take a look at them before they made their way inside. Upon closer examination, he noticed small scratches above the keyhole. The brass on all sides was tarnished and darkened, but it was shining just above the lock. This told Charlie that someone had recently used a well-made lock picking on the door and the device had scratched the top of the lock, scraping away the layers of wear.
For the sake of science, Charlie tried the door handle—and it opened. Something was wrong. Holloway had left this door open, but why? He was more careful than any criminal in the city’s memory; locking a door behind him would have been second nature. Holloway must have been in a hurry. Had he known that the neighbors had seen him? No, that wouldn’t make a difference. His name was known and there had been witnesses to his past abductions. Clearly, Holloway didn’t think that the police could trace him, so he wasn’t worried about being followed.
As far as Charlie was concerned, Holloway’s reason for haste didn’t matter. All that mattered was that there was only one act that he could be hurrying to complete, and that was the torture and death of his latest victim. He was in a rush to kill this woman, and Charlie needed to get to her—now. Deciding to leave Harris to follow alone, he dashed in through the open door and drew his service pistol.
The lobby of the complex was free of furniture, and a healthy layer of dust covered every surface of the building. The place still had power, but it was just the basic amount; small security lights bathed the floor immediately beneath them, and dim red exit signs shown off in the distance, but other than that, the place was dark. Charlie turned on his flashlight and tried to decide which direction Holloway had gone.
Shining his flashlight on the floor, the layer of dust was disturbed and the young detective bent down to inspect the footprints: size eleven work boots by the look of it. The toe of the left foot dragged on the ground from time to time. Initially, Charlie thought it was from a limp, but then realized that, when headed inward, Holloway would have been carrying an adult in his arms. Assuming Holloway was part of the right-handed majority, he would naturally carry a body with the heavier trunk on his left-hand side, bearing the initial full weight of the person upon his right arm when picking the body up. Charlie was now absolutely positive Holloway was in the building. There were many footprints, most covered in varying thicknesses of dust, but the faux-limping trail he had observed was brand new.
Following the trail, he went straight past the elevators—which had no power—to the main stairs. Unfortunately, the glossy linoleum floors of the lobby and hallway gave way to porous concrete in the stairwell, and Charlie lost the visible dust trail he’d been following. Taking the stairs two at a time, Charlie stopped at each landing just long enough to check the doors for any recent signs of use. Winded after hitting the eighth floor landing, he paused for a moment to catch his breath. That was when he heard it—a woman’s voice. More specifically: a woman’s
scream.
The cry had come from far off, possibly two or three floors up. Charlie tapped into a reserve strength he didn’t know he had, and flew up the stairs three at a time. Pausing at the tenth floor landing, he heard the scream again, this time much closer.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie pocketed his flashlight and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly, he eased open the door and took a look at his surroundings. He was in the standard apartment hallway, with doors to the rooms on his left and windows overlooking the city on his right. It wasn’t difficult to discern his next destination. One of the doors was open, and bright light spilled from within.
After silently making his way to the doorway, he paused, listening for anything that could give him the location of the occupants within. The only noises he heard were those of a woman, quietly sobbing and praying. He smelled blood, and something else—but he couldn’t quite place what it was. Able to wait no longer, Charlie entered the room low; his pistol leading the way.
The room beyond was something out of a cheap horror movie and had no place in a rational world.
The room was lit by several workmen’s spotlights that were mounted atop bright yellow industrial stands and attached to car batteries. Along the walls were various medical tools—scalpels, bone saws, clamps and spreaders—as well as modern power tools like drills, jigsaws and chainsaws. Blood, fresh or dried, covered almost every surface of the horrible room. Some of it was so faded and black that it must have been there for months. How many people had died in this room? Charlie shuddered at the thought.
In the center of the room stood a crude operating theater. A woman in her mid-thirties lay shackled to a wooden table. Clearing the room, satisfied that Holloway was not present, Charlie holstered his pistol and rushed over to the victim, releasing her from her bonds. He helped the sobbing woman into a sitting position.
“My name is Detective Charlie Walker,” he told her. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“No!” she whispered hoarsely. “He’s still here! He’s still here!”
Before Charlie could look away from the terrified woman, he felt another presence in the room. Turning slowly, he found himself face-to-face with the infamous Hollow Man—the big man’s frame entirely filling the doorway.
“Welcome,” Holloway spoke.
James Holloway was exponentially more terrible than the reports had ever made him out to be. The man was more creature than human: his black hair wild, his massive beard unkempt and tangled. The ice gray eyes that looked upon the detective with such hunger nearly broke his resolve. Charlie was terrified, but he would never let this monster see it. His chance to prevent the Hollow Man’s latest massacre was handed to him on a silver platter, and he would die before he gave up.
“Holloway, you slipped up,” Charlie said.
“Did I, detective?” Holloway asked, his tone so neutral that he could have been goading Charlie or he could have been dead serious.
“Let me see your hands,” Charlie demanded.
“I’d like to see yours first,” the wild man replied.
Charlie didn’t like the look in Holloway’s eyes: it was dangerous and clearly foreshadowed violent intent. Charlie decided not to take any chances, and he quickly reached for his holstered weapon with one hand while pulling the defenseless woman behind him with the other. Unfortunately, Holloway had been ready; a silenced nine-millimeter held behind his back. The killer raised the weapon and fired once, catching Charlie in the neck, but the detective had already drawn his pistol and fired three shots. One found its mark and sent the infamous killer crashing backwards to the floor of the hallway, dead.
The few minutes before Charlie passed out were a blur. He recalled the woman screaming at the top of her lungs. He recalled Harris entering the room, removing his coat and pressing it onto his partner’s wound. Shortly after, Charlie lost consciousness. He awoke the next day with a tracheal tube down his throat and his pregnant wife looking down at him, holding baby Violet. Meghan’s eyes were red from crying, but she smiled brightly when she noticed he was awake.
After his recovery period, Charlie was honored by the mayor and the woman he’d saved, along with the families of Holloway’s other victims, in a special award ceremony held on the steps of the city hall. He graciously accepted the key to the city—which, until this point, he thought existed only in the movies. For the next week, he couldn’t look at a newspaper or turn on the TV without seeing his own face staring back at him. One headline, “Hero Cop Stops Hollow Man,” made him blush, perhaps because Meghan insisted upon framing it and hanging it in their living room.
Never had he thought that his actions that day could lead to an event as terrible as the one that was occurring now.
•••
Charlie shook his head, trying to clear the memories, and looked straight into the eyes of the elder Holloway.
“Your son was a monster,” Charlie claimed. “I did what any cop would have done in my place. It doesn’t make me different.”
“I suppose there’s no convincing you,” said Holloway. “Regardless, your actions have brought you to my attention. His case was only the tip of the iceberg. Since then, I have watched you. I have studied your methods. You
are
different. Your mind operates on a whole other level.”
Holloway paused, deep in thought.
“Sadly, you dedicate your life to the protection of other people,” he continued. “These disgusting commoners don’t
deserve
your help.”
“They deserve more than that,” Charlie declared.
“Again, you refused to be swayed. No matter. Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps the obnoxious do-gooders like yourself are destined to rule the world. Maybe you people are right. We will soon find out; you will be tested. The time has come to prove yourself, detective. Beat me at my own game and you will have won. I will be a scourge upon the world no more.”
“Why test me?” Charlie asked.
“For years I have looked for individuals with a talent for using their minds to achieve great ends. Some like you. Others less savory, like my son. I have tested them in a similar manner. None have survived. Do you not understand? I’m searching for the person who can defeat me. I can’t live forever but my legacy can. I’ve devoted the twilight of my life to scouring this planet for its greatest minds. None, so far, have even stood a chance.
“
You
, on the other hand, are exceptional. All the events that have occurred tonight, these seemingly random happenstances that have affected your psyche so profoundly, were all fabricated—by me. The PeopleMover, the Carousel of Progress, the bus tire, the false security agents—you saw right through all of these things. Your mind, though stressed, functioned as precisely as ever—perhaps more so. You are different, detective. Yours may be the mind that I’ve searched all these years for.”
Charlie stared at the man in bewilderment for a few moments before speaking.
“I’d call you insane again,” he said, “but you’ve already talked your way out of that one.”
Holloway laughed and stood, setting two Blackberry batteries on the table and then made his way toward the door.
“Get some rest, detective. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.” He paused before leaving and turned back toward Charlie. “One more thing. Your angels are safe but, should you decide to leave this room before you are told to do so, they will learn the true meaning of pain—my son was not the only creative sadist in the Holloway family. Goodnight, detective.”
Holloway gently closed the door behind him and Charlie heard his footsteps fading steadily into the distance.
Meghan found the scissors as quickly as she could and released Violet and Katie from their bonds. Not being able to free herself from her own restraints, she entrusted the still-groggy Violet with the task. Luckily, the girl did her work well and Meghan’s hands were freed quickly and without injury.
After making sure both of her girls weren’t experiencing any ill effects from the drugs, Meghan slowly looked around at the enormous, two-story villa in which they found themselves. In any other situation, she would have loved being in this place. It was beautiful. The furniture, the decorations, the
view
—all of it was beyond anything she’d experienced before. It pained her that her first experience in so gorgeous an environment was such a terrible one.
“Mommy, what happened to us?” Violet asked, her tone more somber than any seven-year-olds’ voice had any right to be, especially given that they were in Walt Disney World, staring at this breathtaking view of the Magic Kingdom.
“Nothing,” she lied, trying to keep up a strong front for her daughters’ sake. “We’ve just got to stay in this big room for a while, baby.”
“Really, Mommy. What
happened
?” Violet prodded, rubbing her wrists where the bonds had so tightly been.
Sometimes Meghan forgot how mature her daughter was. Little white lies and misdirection rarely worked on Violet Walker. Katie was happier being a normal child and, while fiercely intelligent, had no interest in skepticism—to her, the world was a beautiful place and there was no better time than now to live in it. Violet, on the other hand, had a firm grasp on the world around her and when something seemed out of place, she questioned it.
“Well, we’ve gotten into a little bit of trouble with some scary people. I don’t really understand what’s going on yet,” she admitted.
“What about Daddy?” Violet asked.
“Daddy’s coming to get us,” Meghan said firmly, knowing Charlie would stop at nothing to free them.
Katie stood silently at the large window, forehead pressed against the cool glass, looking out at the Magic Kingdom. Meghan and Violet joined her and all three of them stood in silence for a while, absorbed in the magnificent view of one of their favorite places on Earth; not even the terribleness of the moment could tarnish their love for this place of wonder. Meghan put her arms around the girls and knelt for a while with them in silence, taking in the view, trying not to think about the current situation.
“Are you guys okay?” she asked, gently.
“Yeah,” the girls both agreed in unison.
“Are you scared?” Meghan prodded.
“A little,” Violet admitted. “But not really. Daddy will get us, and he’ll send all of the bad guys to jail after he does.”
“Daddy’s stronger than they are,” added Katie.
Meghan smiled, thankful that she had such brave and strong daughters. They were right too—Meghan was sure of it. Wherever Charlie was, she knew his mind was racing a million miles an hour, working out every possible way he could get them back. She knew all too well Charlie’s protective nature and his unyielding need to keep those he loved safe and happy. He’d put his life on the line without a second thought to save a stranger; Meghan knew that he would die to save his family.
She worried about him, though. She didn’t want Charlie to get hurt, but she had faith that—out of everyone in the world—her husband was the one man she could trust to get them all through this horrible ordeal unharmed.
“I love you guys,” Meghan told the girls. “You know that?”
“We love you too, Mommy.”
After a few more moments of silently gazing out the window, Meghan heard the door to the villa gently open behind her. The strange elderly man had returned.
“Mrs. Walker, I’ve just come from a little meeting with your husband,” the man stated.
“Did you hurt him?” she asked angrily.
With a resigned air, he admitted, “I have tried, but he is a refreshingly resilient man.”
“He will come for us,” shot Violet from a few feet away.
“He won’t have to, Violet,” replied the man.
“I don’t understand,” Meghan said.
The man—whose name, he revealed, was Spencer Holloway—pulled Meghan aside, out of earshot of the girls. He explained to her their entire situation.
He told her all about the cruel tests Charlie would face and the very real danger that he was in. He explained that, if Charlie succeeded, none of them would be harmed. Meghan seethed with unchecked rage, never hating a person more than she did Spencer Holloway. Deep inside her mind, she hoped Charlie wouldn’t arrest Holloway when he beat him; she hoped he would
kill
him—even
that
was still more than this monster deserved.
“Do you believe your husband will succeed?” asked Holloway.
“He’ll do more than that,” Meghan promised.
“Oh?” chuckled the old man.
“He’ll kill you,” she rasped. “Just like he killed your worthless son.”
Meghan spoke quietly yet viciously. She wanted to make sure Holloway understood how much she loathed him. She wanted him to know how badly she wished he would fail. And most importantly, she wanted him to know that taking Charlie Walker’s family from him was the biggest mistake he would ever make.
“I assure you that I share your opinion of my son. I feel no pity for the boy; he was useless and now he is dead. That is all. Your husband will get his chance at revenge, Mrs. Walker, but only if he passes my tests.”
“You’re wasting your time,” she declared.
“Is your opinion of him so high that you think these tests unnecessary?” Holloway asked, interested in the effects emotional attachment had on facts—whether or not love could override factual observation.
“No,” she said, surprising him. “My opinion doesn’t matter.
Facts
matter. Charlie is the most intelligent, inventive man I have ever known. My first impression of you has already told me that you couldn’t even
dream
of being a match for him. If you allow him a fair chance—and don’t try to cheat—he
will
win.
These
are facts.”
“I hope you’re right. I’ve waited a long time for someone like him to come along,” Holloway admitted, sadly.
“You’re insane,” Meghan stated.
Holloway laughed, “I feel as if I have heard that somewhere before. Now, Mrs. Walker, I must leave you. I will send in Jeremy to make sure your stay here is comfortable.”
He stood up to leave, but Meghan stopped him.
“Don’t you
dare
leave that monster in here with us.”
“And why not?” Holloway asked, genuinely concerned.
“Let’s just say that he’s not exactly the type of person that should be left alone with a woman.”
Holloway considered this for a moment.
“He has made…inappropriate advances?” he asked, objectively.
“More than one,” she stated bluntly. “I imagine it will happen again if you let him in here. If he touches me again, I’ll kill him. I’d rather my daughters see that than anything that coward might do to us.”
Holloway nodded his assent. “Worry not, Mrs. Walker. Get a good night’s rest and enjoy yourselves the best you can. The three of you will be left in peace. Jeremy will be dealt with.”
With that final statement, he glided out the door, closing it gently behind him, leaving Meghan and the girls alone once more. This time, though, they were left with the knowledge that Charlie was okay, and that their safety hinged on him besting this psychopath in a battle of the minds—a battle Meghan knew her husband couldn’t lose.
Meghan began to feel hope for the first time since this nightmare scenario had begun.
•••
“Follow me, Jeremy,” Holloway said calmly, exiting the villa and walking briskly toward the identical room that he occupied next door.
“What’s wrong, sir?” Jeremy pried, but Holloway remained silent.
This isn’t good
, Jeremy thought. His mind raced with possibilities as they entered the old man’s villa.
“Sit,” Holloway commanded, motioning to the couch.
Jeremy did as he was told and Holloway stood before him, towering over the younger man.
“You have disappointed me again, Jeremy,” explained Holloway, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.
“What have I done, sir? Did that bitch next door—”
“Shut your mouth!” Holloway snapped, staring daggers at Jeremy. Actual rage showed itself for a split second on Holloway’s face. Almost immediately, his characteristic calm returned. “
Mrs.
Walker has reported to me some inappropriate actions on your behalf, Jeremy. This, coupled with what I have already seen, troubles me deeply.”
“Sir, I—”
“I am beginning to think I have misjudged your character, Jeremy. Do you remember what became of Eddie after his less-than-savory decisions regarding the respect of Mrs. Walker’s intimate privacy?
Of course
you do,” Holloway paused to clear his throat. “You cleaned his leftovers out of the wood chipper. Still, allow me to refresh your mind: Eddie was nothing more than a brainless pervert. You, Jeremy—I must admit that I had higher hopes for you. As it seems, my hopes were all for nothing.”
“Sir—”
“Speak another word and it will be your last. Listen with your ears, look with your eyes, but
do not speak
. While those three young women are under our care, they will
not
be touched. They will
be respected. They are not playthings for you and your sickening carnal desires. They are the prizes that Walker will play our game to win. Do you understand? No. Don’t answer. You are dumber than the couch upon which you sit; whether you understand or not is irrelevant. If you retain anything at all from this conversation, remember this: you are no longer permitted to set foot in their villa, nor are you permitted to interact with them in any way. This is your final chance, Jeremy. I believe I have given you a fair number of warnings and have allowed you to bear witness, firsthand, to what happens to those who disobey me. From this second on, you will obey me. This time, you may answer: do you understand?”
Jeremy seethed beneath the surface—furious and terrified—and Holloway noticed but could not let this young man disrespect or harm the detective’s family while they still had a key role to play.
“
Do. You. Understand?”
Holloway snapped.
“I understand, sir,” Jeremy sulked, staring intensely at the floor between his feet.
“Good. Now get out of here. Get some rest and be at your position in the morning ready to initiate the next phase.”
Holloway stepped around the couch and made his way up the staircase, leaving Jeremy to let himself out.