ANGELS AND GHOSTS
CHAPTER THIRTY

The Assassin’s Last Stand

Her hands were tied, her ankles were tied, and Cummings dragged her over and pushed her face first into a tree. Working quickly, Rocello tied a second rope around her left wrist, looped the rope around the tree, and then tied her right wrist. Rocello dropped his pants then pushed her head down so that her body was at right angles.

Rachael was going to die fighting, and she grimaced as she felt him push against her, then when she felt the erection spearing into her, she fell to her knees.

“Fucking bitch, stand up!” he screamed.

She scrunched into a ball on the ground, but he yanked her head up by the hair, snarling at her, “This is gunna happen bitch, so we either do it the easy way, or else we’re gunna do it the hard way!” He lifted her up, but she kept her knees bent, her feet now off the ground.

“Put your feet on the ground and fucking stand up!” he roared as he let her fall to the ground.

She hit the ground, gasped, then hunched over by the base of the tree, pushing right up against it, although she heard Rocello curse as he kneel next to her.

Rocello, on one knee, raised his fist and hit her hard in the back of her head, her face smashing into the base of the tree. The pain was immediate, her face pounding as the shockwaves rattled through her.

“You gunna co-operate now, huh?” he snarled. He lifted her up, then he blew out in disbelief as she kept her knees tucked into her chest. “Fucking bitch!”

Cummings squatted next to her and tried to pull her legs down, but she fought against him and pulled them in tight.

“Get underneath her and prop her up!” Rocello spat out.

Cummings knelt, side-on to her, then he pushed his right shoulder into her stomach and balanced her on his shoulder. Her legs were off the ground, and Rocello had to bend slightly to squeeze into her, then with a guttural moan, he pushed hard.

*

Mark Jamieson looked at the unfamiliar number, then answered. “Hello?”

Mia felt dizzy and nauseous, and she stumbled and collapsed to the floor, the cell spilling out of her hand and landing on the tiles. Grimacing, she scrambled across to the phone and panted, “Officer Jamieson, you, you have to help me!”

“Who is this?”

“Mia, Mia Coombes, you have to help me!”

Jamieson could hear the panting and spluttering, and confused, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Mia fought, battled, clenching her teeth, then through the pain, she spat out, “Errrr, errrr, Rachael … arrrhhh God, Rachael’s in trouble!”

*

Both were satisfied, and Rocello offered him a smoke.

“I don’t smoke.” Cummings advised.

“Have one,” Rocello replied, “Watch this.”

Rocello drew in, puffed out, then knelt beside the quivering, naked body, then he guided the burning cigarette toward her right buttock.

“ARRRRHHHHH!” she screamed.

Cummings lit up then knelt beside her.

*

Mia was waiting out the front as Jamieson pulled up, and she jumped in the car.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I think Rachael’s at the forest, and, and she might be in danger.”

Mark looked at her, the woman grimacing and rubbing her brow, so he asked, “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, but hurry please.”

*

Brutalised, savaged, raped, bleeding, burnt, but not totally destroyed.

This night was where it all ended for her, and God, did she want it to end; although she knew that in her final moments, she had been true to herself, because she had fought like a demon.

Raping her had difficult for both of them, for she rocked and rolled her body as much as she able to, and both had fallen out of her frequently, and the subsequent punches in the back of the head didn’t make her compliant, they only made her more determined.

Punches to the back of her head, then to the side of her head, uppercuts to her face, her teeth smashing together, then her hair being ripped back constantly, savage elbows ramming into her spine, and the thrusting; violent, brutal thrusting, this being a savage sexual assault that would never leave her. She had the presence of mind to know that she’d never have a nightmare about this incident, because her night, her time was almost up. What they were doing to her, what they had done to her meant that they couldn’t let her live to retell these events.

With her body in five kinds of agony, she heard Rocello muttering, “Gunna fuck her once more before we bury her alive.”

Silence, then a quiet statement, “Change of plans.”

“What?”

Rachael heard the laboured breathing, then Cummings quiet voice, “After you’ve finished, I’ll go again …”

She could hear the breathes being sucked in, then another quiet statement, “But she won’t be alive when we bury her.”

Minutes ticked by, minutes where blood dripped from her nose and mouth, and her head pounded with pain. The rope that had her hands tied around the tree had fallen to the bottom, and on elbows and knees, she rested her head against the tree’s base. She tried to steel herself, tried to strengthen her resolve, because they would come at her again, come for the final time. The last act of her life was just about to be played out, and she mumbled, “Jen, Jenna, they can rape me and bash me, but I will not bend, I, I will not break.”

They came strolling towards her, then Rocello squatted down next to her, and he grinned as he yanked her head up and asked coldly, “Having a good time Terina?”

She didn’t feel like a God or an Immortal, she felt like a feisty little bitch who wasn’t going to go down without one hell of a fight. Snarling, she drew back and spat at him, the combination of spittle and blood landing in his left eye.

“You fucking bitch!” he roared.

He stumbled away, wiping his eye, then he charged in and kicked her in the ribs.

“Arrrhhhhh!” Rachael screamed, the pain so severe that she thought, she hoped, she prayed that she might black out.

“Lift her again!” Rocello snorted as he undid his pants.

Cummings lifted her and propped her body on his right shoulder.

Rachael twisted and rocked, although it so difficult now, because the right side of her rib cage was in screaming agony, and every time she moved, the damaged ribs grinded against his shoulder.

*

As they rounded the bend, both Mia and Mark saw the Ford four-wheel drive.

“Ohhh God no!” Mia blubbered.

Mark helped her up the embankment, then drew his gun as he hurried ahead.

Rocello finished, then he gazed at Cummings. “You ready to go?”

“Yes.” came the quiet, dark reply.

“I’ll prop her up.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

Cummings twisted her around so that she was on her back, then he pulled her towards him as far as the rope would allow. He got the knife and cut the rope off her ankles.

“What are you doing?” Rocello asked.

“She doesn’t really scare me anymore.” he muttered as he dropped to his knees, then he squeezed in between her legs and pushed into her.

From twenty feet away, Rocello watched, thinking flippantly, This is our new Mayor? The longer it went, the more hostile he became, screaming at her as he thrust into her aggressively, although the brutal rape wasn’t his only action, because he punched her in the face, then his left hand squeezed around her throat, choking her, although in between the angry screams, Rocello’s attention was captured by another sound.

Mark looked in disbelief, too stunned to talk; a naked woman on the ground, a man raping her.

Mia stumbled up beside him, then screamed.

“Hey you, move away, now!” Mark yelled.

Rocello was stunned, then he fumbled for his gun, and Mark saw the stuttered movement of the other man to his right, then he focussed, processed, then pulled the trigger.

Rocello was flung backwards by the impact, and Cummings, with pants around his ankles, recoiled at the sound of the blast, then he fell off her and rolled on to his backside.

Mark rushed over to the naked figure, and dazed, then infuriated, he blurted out, “Jesus, it is Rachael!”

With an eye on Cummings, he rested his gun on the ground, untied the rope that curled around the tree, then untied her hands, all his movements jittery as he glanced at her bloodied face.

Cummings pulled his pants up and said shakily, “Thank God you’re here!”

Mark ignored him, more concerned about Rachael, as blubbering and shaking, Mia knelt down next to him and pulled Rachael into a sitting position, then she embraced her.

Mark gently lifted her chin and asked solemnly, “Rach, you okay?”

Rachael looked at him, looked at Mia, then she went to wrap her arms around Mia, although her ribs exploded in pain, and as she shivered with the pain, she let her right arm dangle limply by her side.

Mark picked up the rope and walked at him, and Cummings cowered, then pointed at the body on the ground. “He, he forced me to hurt the girl!”

“Get on the ground.” Mark said quietly.

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“Get on the ground, face down.”

“No, no, you don’t understand; my name is Ivan Cummings, and that man kidnapped me and he forced me to hurt the girl!”

Enraged, but trying to control himself, Mark commanded, “I won’t say this again, lie on the ground!”

Cummings turned over and lay on the ground, although he swivelled his head to look at Mark as he said, “I’m just glad that you came; you saved us both.”

Mark tied the man’s hands behind his back, then he hurried over to check on the motionless body.

Rachael wiped some of the blood off her face with her left wrist, then clumsily stood, staring at Cummings. The right side of her body was so sore, that it hurt to breathe, and her head pounding in agony made her dizzy, but she noticed Mark putting the cell phone to his ear as he knelt next to Rocello and checked his wrist. She shuffled over towards him, seeing the bloody hole in Rocello’s forehead. “Is he dead?” Rachael asked bluntly.

Mark looked up at her, “Yeah, I’ll calling an ambulance for you, and I’ll also get my people to come here.”

With her left arm wrapping around her ribs, Rachael muttered, “No.”

Mark climbed off his knees and faced her as he said compassionately, “Rach, I have to report this in.”

Slowly Rachael turned to face Cummings, her shoulders heaving and her head bowed as she muttered, “Okay …” the pain then doubled her over, although she spluttered out a breath and straightened, panting, “Okay ring, but not yet.”

Mark took his jacket off and tried to drape it over her shoulders, but she shrugged him away.

“Rachael, he’s mine, I’ll deal with him.”

With her legs trembling, she stared at Cummings and muttered quietly, “No … he’s mine.”

Mark grabbed her right hand and faced her. “Come on, put this on and Mia can take you back to the car.”

Rachael shook her hand free and began hobbling towards Cummings, until Mark grabbed her wrist. Rachael shuddered, shook free then screamed, “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Mark stumbled back, then said shakily, “Sorry, sorry, but Rachael, he’s going down for this, so let me deal with him.”

Rachael stared at him, her entire body trembling as she snorted, “I, I, me, I’m gunna deal with him!”

Frantic, confused, Mark shook his head and said, “No, I can’t let that happen.”

Rachael lurched two paces forward and glared at him as she snarled, “He, he raped me and he was gunna kill me!”

“I know, I know, I’ll call the station.”

Rachael drew in a stuttering breath, then said coldly, “Take Mia away and let me do what I need to do.”

Bewildered, Mark shook his head again, then said solemnly, “No, I can’t let you do this.”

Rachael began lurching towards Cummings as she said harshly, “I don’t give a fuck what you do, just don’t, arhhhh fuck …” the pain spearing through her again, and after she’d ridden through it, she spat out, ”Just don’t, don’t get in my way.”

“Rachael, listen to me,” he implored, “I can’t let this happen.”

“If, if you try and stop me, I’ll kill you as well.” Rachael wheezed threateningly.

With her left arm braced around her ribs, Rachael picked up a rock, and with her legs still shaking, she stumbled towards him.

“Hey you,” Cummings called out, “Hey pal, you better grab her!”

Mark saw Rachael roll him over, then she squatted next to him.

“Hey pal, you better stop this, stop it now!” Cummings screamed.

Stunned, rattled, Mark led Mia out of the clearing, then he rested his back against a tree and closed his eyes, running everything through his mind, until he heard the scream. Then another scream, followed by the sound of solid pounding, yelps or whimpers ringing out, then soon, just the sound of pounding; the sound consistent, a full minute of pounding, then another minute, the sound of the pounding becoming very wet.

Mark looked up as he heard twigs snapping, then he gasped.

Rachael stood thirty feet in front of him, her shoulders heaving, blood splattered all over her naked body. She dropped the rock, then panted, “Ring the station.”

Mark was shocked, because Rachael looked like something out of a horror movie; and he gulped, then handed the jacket to Mia. “Help, help her put this on; I better call the station.”

Blubbering, and with her brow pounding, Mia approached her, and cautiously, she draped the jacket over her shoulders and embraced her, and Mia felt the face nestle into her shoulder.

Mia wanted to brave and strong for her friend, but she couldn’t stop the tears, because this wasn’t a nightmare, it had happened, this was real, and the shocking reality was that it was … now.

A few minutes later, Mark trudged back, shell-shocked by everything as he muttered, “Shit, I’m not sure what to do.”

Comforted by the embrace, and with her mind settling into a hazy after-shock, Rachael said quietly, “It was, was self-defence.”

Mark wasn’t concerned that Rachael had beaten one of her abusers to death, he was concerned that her actions would lead to charges being laid against her. He ran a hand over his brow and stuttered out, “He, he was alive when I got here, and now he’s not alive; so how am I supposed to explain that?”

Rachael grimaced with the pain, not interested in his problems, not interested in anything as it started to whirlpool in her mind; she’d been raped and degraded, she’d been only moments away from a gruesome death, and she, Rachael Terina, tough, bold, larger than life Rachael Terina, began to blubber.

Mark shuffled away and stared at the dead bodies.

He recognised Silvanio Rocello, because he was one of the Cavello crew. Shooting a high-ranking organised crime member was never good for your future, although his death was explainable, He drew his gun, so I shot him! The other one though … Ivan Cummings, as in Ivan Cummings, Middleton Mayoral aspirant?

Two dead bodies, one raped and badly beaten woman …

Dazed, confused, Mark looked at a rock, then picked it up, realising that the rock could be the story. He ran it through his mind a few times, then turned and walked back to the women. Gently, he placed a hand on Rachael’s shoulder as he said, “Rach, if we tell the story like it happened, you could find yourself in trouble, so I think we need to work on a story.”

“What are you saying?” she mumbled.

“How does this sound; Mia and me come into the clearing to see Rocello raping you, so I call out to him and he reaches for his gun, then I shoot him. Cummings then sneaks up behind me and hits me with a rock, knocking me out, then while he’s attacking me, you attack him and do, well, you know …”

Rachael looked up at him, and with tears dribbling down her cheeks, she muttered, “I don’t give a fuck what you say.”

“No Rachael, please understand that I’m trying to help you; if we go with that kind of story, you could walk out of this okay.”

“Okay?” Rachael snorted, then she sniffled and said, “No, I’m not going to be okay!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just trying to help you.”

Mia ran it through her mind, then still sobbing, she repeated it out loud, “Ro-Rocello is raping her, Marks calls out to him, he reaches for his gun, Mark shoots him, then I see Cummings hit Mark, then Rach hits him.” Mia gazed into her eyes, and as she wiped a few tears away, she said quietly, “I think it’s a good idea Rachael.”

Mark waited a few moments, then he prompted her, “Rach, we all in?”

Rachael turned to look at the bodies, then looked at Mark, and finally her gaze settled on Mia.

Mia kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “Rachael telling the truth is always the best option, but sometimes lying makes things easier.”

Rachael nodded weakly.

“Sorry to ask this,” Mark began tentatively, “But just to make sure the story has elements of the truth in it; did Rocello rape you?”

Dragging in painful breaths, she nodded, “Twice.”

Mark hung his head then handed the rock to Mia. “Okay Mia, so you’re going to have to hit me with the rock.”

Mia shivered and backtracked, “No, no way.”

“Unfortunately, you’re going to have to, and you need to draw blood.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

In so much pain, and with the new nightmare already replaying in her mind, Rachael looked at them. Both of them in tears, both of them shell-shocked, so Rachael faced Mia. “M-Mia,” Rachael wheezed as she pointed to a spot near the back of his skull, “Hit him here, it will hurt and it should draw blood, but it won’t cause any permanent damage.”

Mia drew in a breath then stood behind him; she could never ever hurt anybody, but this wasn’t about hurting someone, it was about saving someone else. Mia shivered, then asked shakily, “You ready?”

“Yes.”

Mia recoiled at the sound of the loud crack, and Mark stumbled forward, gasping, “Fuck!”

Rachael inspected the skull, then shook her head, wheezing out, “You’ll have to hit him again.”

“Ohhh God.” Mia blubbered.

“Same spot, but a bit harder.” Rachael advised.

Mia closed her eyes, drew in a breath, composed herself, then opened her eyes. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

A louder crack, the force catapulting Mark onto his knees.

After a few moments, Mark clumsily got to his feet and then bent forward, resting his hands on his knees. Puffing out with the pain, he stood straight and faced them, “Okay … Jesus … fuck, ummm, they should start arriving within the half hour, so everybody’s happy with the story?”

Mia said, “Yes.”

Rachael nodded then hobbled away, her aching ribs dictating that she needed to lower herself carefully as she sat on a fallen log.

Mia watched her for a few moments, Rachael with the jacket wrapped around her shoulders, her head bowed, staring at the ground, sobbing, the poor woman looking like the saddest person in the world. It occurred to Mia, that this was all her fault, for if she hadn’t involved Rachael in this whole mess, what happened to her on this night wouldn’t have happened. Her initial instinct was to go over and comfort her, although a more powerful urge swept through her. She gazed over to the cluster of trees, then began walking.

Mia squatted by the grave and ran her hand over the soil as she said quietly, “Jenny, we, we got him, I mean I think it’s finished, I think it’s over.” She pulled the bracelet out of her pocket and placed it on the soil. “I hope you’re free now, I hope you’ll be able to get to where you belong.”

Mia stood and began to walk away, then she winced as her brow issued a single throb. Shaking her head, she was just about to resume walking, when she felt a presence, felt as if she were levitating, or something was levitating around her.

The still night was disturbed, not by a sudden gust of wind, but by a decisive swirl of intent, the swirl rotating and spiralling upwards, and for an exhilarating moment, Mia felt as if she had been embraced by the swirl. She gazed up to the Heavens, hundreds of stars glittering in the dark night, and she saw a flash of light, and she knew, she just knew that the light was going home, to her new home.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Mia looked up and whispered proudly, “Goodbye, goodbye Jenny.”

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