Free Torched: A Thriller by Daniel Powell Page A

fuckbuddy here, or should you
just go on home? Hell, maybe you can turn yourself in. Start paying that debt
to society.”
    “What do you
want?” Vivian repeated, her voice cooling. She recognized certain things in
Terri’s voice, because they had once been there in her own. She recognized the
madness, as well as the determination.
    She needed her
wits if she would ever see Miguel again.
    “Actually, I
think it’s what you want, darling. Step one is getting off that island.
That iPad, I’m sure, is very familiar to you. It’s not the same machine you
left for Sheldon and me on the mountain, but the differences are merely
superficial.
    “You know the
drill: that computer is your lifeline. It’s your GPS. It’s your route back here
to Miguel. I have remote access, and I’m listening to your every movement,
girl. Here’s our location.”
    The video feed
vanished, replaced by a Google map. In the bottom of the screen, Vivian noticed
the distance: 98.4 miles.
    “It’s not
perfect, I’ll admit. But that little island there was too perfect to pass up.
The big man used to store chemicals for treating his swimming pools out there,
but he found a different use for the place. By the way, you should be honored.
You woke up on the property of one very famous outlaw. Those gators
belong to him. They’re a…well, a business expense, I guess you could call it. I
imagine they’re pretty hungry, too.
    “He keeps ‘em
that way intentionally.”
    Vivian frowned
and Terri caught it, her grin widening.
    “So your first
task is getting off that island. You want to see Mikey here again, then you’ll
head south. But, if you’ve had a change of heart and you decide that Mexico
just isn’t your thing, nobody will think unkindly of you if you just head
home.”
    “If I do, what
happens to Miguel?”
    Terri rotated
the camera; she zoomed in on a dark-skinned man. He sat in a chair, reading a
book. His bored eyes darted briefly to the camera before returning to the page.
    There was a
pistol balanced on his knee.
    “Then he’ll have
a chance to parlay with Sheldon in the afterlife. They can trade notes on the
crazy women in their life. Fair’s fair, Vivian.”
    The camera
tracked back onto Miguel. His eyes flashed with defiance, and he spat on the
concrete. “Just go home, Vivian!” he screamed. “Leave! These people are sick!
They’re sick, and…”
    The man with the
pistol suddenly decked Miguel with the butt of the gun. Vivian heard the blow— THWACK !
Miguel was knocked cold, his head canted forward on his chest.
    The man walked
across the room, eased himself back into his seat and picked up the thread of
his story. Violence, it seemed, came easy to him.
    “How long do I
have?” Vivian said.
    Terri smiled.
“Ahh, the crucial question. See this?” She held an object up to the camera.
    Vivian nodded,
her stomach running through another set of acrobatics. Adrenaline dumped into
her veins.
    She knew just
where this was heading.
    “At 6:04 p.m.
this evening, the sun will hang in the sky at a location directly over latitude
22.4, longitude -100.3. At this time of year, and in this precise location, the
potency of the UVB rays will be just about as powerful as they get all year
long. In other words, things could get pretty uncomfortable for ol’ Mikey
here.”
    Terri had
displayed a horrible object; it was a large glass lens, similar to a magnifying
glass. The contraption had an aluminum reflection screen behind it, and a
housing that held it secure in a tripod.
    “You tried to
leave my children outside in the freezing cold, Vivian. My husband died out there, alone and injured. If you,” she fumed, her eyes shining with rage,
“want anything more than a charred cinder back of your precious fuckbuddy, then
you’ll find a way to get your pretty little ass back down to Cerritos.”
    “How, Terri?
How? I left you a vehicle. How do I get there?”
    “A vehicle?”
Terri smirked. “A fucking vehicle ? You left us in the