M McDonald - March Into Hell

An hour later, he, Jessica and Gary waited while Lily developed the film. Gary had offered to run it through his machines, but Lily had said she preferred to develop it herself. Now, her choked scream from within the dark room told Jim and Jessica exactly when the film was done processing, and that whatever was on it wasn't good.

She came out with the still damp prints. Jim hated to look at them, but he had no choice.

Lily visibly trembled as she laid the photos out on the counter. Gary hurried over from where he'd been sitting half-asleep in a corner, Jim froze him with a look. "Sorry. These are classified."

Gary held up his hands. "Fine. I'll just go in my office and take a nap, since I was awakened so early this morning."

Jessica rearranged the five photos, her face stoic. Jim knew she was used to these kind of photos, but recognized that she was trying her best to detach, to gain emotional distance. He couldn't blame her. It was a survival mechanism for one in her profession. He'd learned it early on in his field as well.

One photo showed Mark half in his bed, half on the floor as dark clad figures held him. Another showed him entering the back of a van, and Jim swallowed hard at the rope around Mark's wrists and neck. He was clad in only a tattered t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Plates."

Jim tore his gaze from the photo and looked at Jessica. "What?"

She already had her phone out. "We can see the plate number as well as the make and model of the van. It's a start."

The third photo showed Mark on the ground in what appeared to be an alley. The scene was dimly lit, but his white t-shirt stood out in the darkness. The building they were behind had several doors visible and Jim squinted, making out a partial word and a complete second word. "It says, something son Textiles". He looked at the women. "Does that sound familiar to either of you?"

Lily shrugged helplessly, while Jessica looped her hair over her ear and peered more closely at the photo. "The warehouse district has a few used by textile manufactures, and Mark had the run in with the cult in that area. I bet they wouldn't stray too far from their home turf, so to speak."

The fourth photo showed him tied to a cross, his eyes screwed shut. The fifth showed a window with sunlight streaming in. It made no sense.

"This area matches the photo, I think." Jim put the car in park.

Jessie angled her head and looked up at the old building. The sky was just beginning to turn pink in the east, but the side street was still very dark. "Lily, why don't you stay here while we check it out?"

Lily looked like she was going to argue, but instead quietly said, "Should I call an ambulance?"

"We don't know if one is needed. Remember, all of the images in the photos might not have happened yet." Jessie tapped Jim on the shoulder. "You have your weapon?"

Jim nodded and opened the center storage compartment, withdrawing his own gun. "This place looks deserted, though."

"Still, better to be prepared." Jessie exited the vehicle, scanning the alley for any movement. "What do you think, Jim? I don't see anything except some trash bins that need emptying." She looked around then squatted and pointed to the ground. "Lots of footprints here though. With this new snow, they can't be more than a few hours old."

The door closest to them had the faded words they had seen in the photo except now it was open a crack. Jim put his hand in the slit and pushed the door wider. He turned to Jessie and whispered, "I'll go first. Cover me."

Jessie nodded and pulled her gun. Ordinarily, she would have rolled her eyes at his chivalry, but she was too keyed up and barely noticed it. "Right."

They slipped inside and paused to let their eyes adjust. Jim pointed at his nose, indicating that he smelled something.

She mouthed the word, 'Fire?' at him.

Jim nodded and pointed in the direction he was going to go. Swallowing hard, Jessie motioned for him to move forward. She followed behind him, her eyes darting around. There was a short hallway that opened into a warehouse. The windows on the opposite wall faced east, and a dim golden light illuminated the room. Jessie looked to her right, into the darkest corners, senses alert for danger. No matter how hard she tried to walk quietly, her footsteps echoed off the walls and she cringed. A beam of sunlight illuminated dust motes, turning them golden. The beam ended in a rectangle of light on the far end of the room.

"Good God! Taylor!" Jim stopped suddenly and Jessie stumbled into him. She looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing but the glowing remains of a fire. She raised her eyes.

A wave of shock and horror exploded through her. Mark was suspended by his hands…on a cross-just as Jim had said. His head hung, and Jessie couldn't tell if he was still alive. Frozen, she barely heard Jim tell her to call for an ambulance and back-up.

She fumbled for her cell phone, but training took over as she relayed the need for help. Even as she gave the dispatcher instructions, she hurried towards Mark, but stopped several feet away as the need to vomit overwhelmed her. She bent and swallowed convulsively, fighting it down.

"Jessie, I need your help!"

Jim's sharp, commanding tone snapped her out of her immobility and she rushed to his side. He pointed at the base of the cross, and she saw what she could only describe as a giant Christmas tree stand. The vertical part of the cross stood inside the holder and long curved legs angled off and were bolted onto the floor. Whoever had done this had planned well in advance.

"We need to try and lift this up and lay it down!" Jim had his shoulder against the vertical part, his arms wrapped around it. Jessie shuddered as her gaze fell on Mark's feet on the small platform just above Jim's head. She didn't know where to grab, and finally snaked her arm behind Mark's knees, the other at the small of his back. His skin was cold and she recoiled for a split second, terrified that he was dead. Swallowing down bile, she regained her hold at his back.

They grunted and strained, but after the wood swayed precariously and threatened to topple, they stopped, afraid that the pole would crash down and crush the suspended man.

Jim swiped his arm across his brow. "We need more people."

Mark's head lolled and a groan slipped from his lips. Jessie could have cried in relief. He was alive! Her elation dimmed when she took a closer look. Barely alive, from the looks of it. Blood ran down his arms in a thick trail and the floor beneath each hand was marred with large puddles. Just beneath his ribs, another wound bled freely, soaking into his sweatpants. Despite the chill in the air, sweat dripped and his hair was wet with it. A coarse rope circled his neck, and Jessie could see ugly purple bruises spreading out from beneath it. She touched the part that dangled down, wishing there was some way she could take it off him.

"Jessica, why don't you go show the fire department where we are?"

Jim's voice held a note of sympathy and she knew that he was trying to spare her witnessing Mark like this. But, he was right, the crew might waste time looking for them, so she turned and raced out of the building. In the far distance she heard sirens and willed them to drive faster.

Lily was pacing the sidewalk, her back to Jessie. At the noise of the door hitting the wall, she spun. "What?"

"We found him and he's alive. Whoever took him is gone, though."

Lily's shoulders sagged as she sobbed, "Thank God!"

She turned to enter the warehouse, but Jessie put out a restraining hand. "Wait! He's not in the best shape and we can't get at him until the fire department arrives."

Lily straightened and lifted her chin. "I'm going in there. I saw the pictures too. If they were right, and I can see by your face that they are, then he's going to need all the friends around him that he can get." With that, she shrugged off Jessie's hold.