Dark Vengeance, Kristi Belcamino [i read books txt] 📗

for about a mile before I started the engine. It sputtered to life and I hopped on, wishing I had a weapon. I had the pepper spray, but that was basically something for me to use before I fled my attacker. It was not really a weapon.

The bike made a lot of noise for such a small thing. I couldn’t ride it down the main strip without drawing attention to myself. Many of the businesses had apartments above them. The last thing I wanted was to have someone warn X I was coming.

But the mechanic had planned for that. I remembered the smaller road he’d drawn that ran north and parallel to Main Street. I’d take that.

Keeping the bike at a low idle, I drove slowly. The foliage closed in on both sides, making the road feel like I’d entered a dark tunnel. My headlight seemed inadequate, its reach limited. Beyond its beam, anything could be waiting for me.

I shook off the fear that had crawled up the back of my neck.

The only person or thing I had to fear was probably locked safely in his house. And I had to remind myself that he was the one who needed to fear me.

After about twenty minutes of driving through the dark dense jungle, the trees above me parted and I could see the heavens. Shortly after, there was a hazy orange glow in the sky from the street lamps on Main Street.

I slowed to a crawl. As I approached the outskirts of town, I saw a small road to my left. I’d almost passed by. It was nearly hidden in thick brush and trees that swooped down over its entrance. I stopped my bike and looked around. I didn’t see any obvious surveillance cameras, but that didn’t mean they weren’t hidden in the trees. I swallowed. It was basically a kamikaze mission from here on out. If I didn’t play it right, I’d die taking him out.

I’d decided on the ride into town that failure was not an option. I couldn’t attack him and fail. If I did, too many innocent lives would be destroyed because of me. I would have their blood on my hands.

I had to take him down or die trying.

For one split second, a fleeting thought made me pause.

Were his crimes worthy of a death sentence?

Then I remembered what the mechanic had said–that the private investigator had been strung up in a tree and his wife and daughters in the states raped. And this guy was still here striking fear in everyone else on this island and preying on young women.

Yeah, he was a dead man.

I killed the bike’s engine and hopped off. I found a small opening in the brush and wheeled the bike into the heavy foliage. Then I fixed the branches and leaves as I backed out. I surveyed the spot to not only memorize it, but make sure there weren’t any broken branches or tire marks or crushed leaves to indicate the bike was tucked away there.

The insects were going nuts. The buzzing was nearly ear-splitting. In the distance, I could hear the faint yell of an angry monkey. I walked under every single tree around the road and across the street, shining the flashlight on my phone to look for hidden cameras. Nothing.

That was a good sign.

After all that, I walked deep into the brush until I found what I was looking for. A thick branch that I could use as a weapon. It wasn’t so thick that I couldn’t snap it off the tree trunk, but thick enough that I could wield it as a weapon. When I found the perfect one, I broke it off, cringing at the loud crack it made. For a second, all the insects around me quieted, and I held my breath until they started their orchestra again.

Armed now, I headed back to the road and started into the darkness, now with my flashlight off. There was a slight light from the moon, but it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust so I could stay on the road, that was only slightly lighter than the forest surrounding it. I used my branch as a walking stick, striking the road in front of me as I went. The break of the stick had been perfect because the top portion of the stick was sharp like a sword. It could not have worked out any better.

The sharp stick could possibly fend off an attack by a large animal. Or not. Most predatory animals could see in the dark. I could not.

I gripped the stick just below the jagged edge and prodded in front of me with each step. After a while, my eyes had adjusted even more and I felt comfortable picking up my pace. Soon, I saw a faint glow in front of me. I must be getting close to the house.

As I grew closer, I realized that there was no fence around the house. It looked like I could walk right up to it. I was immediately wary.

The house was a dark looming shape in front of me, two stories high with windows facing the front. The thick trees bordering the road stopped just in front of the entrance to the circular driveway. The sides and back of the house were enclosed a tall stone wall. But the front of the house was wide open to anyone and anything. Half a dozen steps led to the front door, which was flanked by two long windows with stained glass panes. I could see a faint glow from inside the house, but all the other windows were dark. A light over the door cast a large oval beam that stretched across the driveway and nearly reached the tip of my boots. It wasn’t a mansion, but it wasn’t a shack, either.

There must be some other security system in place—motion detectors, lights, maybe an invisible fence that triggered an alarm?

I paused and scanned