Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,119
silence him.
“It’s for your own good,” the monster said, sealing the tape over his mouth.
His heart sank. Even if Aaron found him, he couldn’t call for help.
I’m going to die.
Brianna held her phone in her hand and watched the group of police move around the fenced perimeter of the building like a swarm of ants cornering a big piece of bread at a picnic.
In the distance another set of headlights flashed. This time it was one of the neon yellow-green Emergency Medical Services trucks. Aaron had had her call for them while he’d driven like a madman through the streets to get here. His instructions were very specific.
“Tell them to wait ten minutes then send a squad. No lights. No sirens. They are to park behind the police cruisers and wait.”
When she’d asked why he said, “I don’t want to have to wait to get medical help for Kirk F or the doctor if they need it.”
She closed her eyes and prayed again that they wouldn’t need the medical help, that Kirk F was fine. That they were in time. That Armbruster was taking his time. That he was trying to drain Kirk F’s blood, which would take longer than the one hour he’d been missing.
Quickly, she snapped her eyes open.
She was praying the killer was starting his obsessive process on her friend so they could ultimately save his life? How sick was that?
With renewed faith in the police, and especially Aaron, she focused her attention back on the building now surrounded in an oblong circle, the men’s images looking like black silhouettes in the dim lights from the streetlamp.
She clutched the dashboard with one hand.
Suddenly, the police radio in the car sounded.
“Go! Go! Go!”
Alarms went off inside his workspace.
Another snoopy kid?
Armbruster opened the clamp on the blood tubing and swiveled around in his chair. He hurried over to his monitoring system and caught the glimpse of bodies moving in all the cameras.
“No! No! No!” he shouted, running back towards his two newest patients.
He stopped at the instrument table and grabbed the scalpel he planned to leave with the surgeon. Now he would use it to finish his work!
Suddenly windows crashed. Plywood boards flew into the space.
A door crashed open.
Something flew inside.
Bang!
A flash of blinding bright light.
He held his hands out in front of him as he tried to get to his mannequins.
“Police! Get your hands up!” one of the barbarians interrupting his work shouted.
“No! No, you mustn’t come in here! You’ll contaminate everything!”
Before he could rescue the bags of precious life force he had salvaged from the decaying human carcasses, someone grabbed him and forced him to the floor. The scalpel clattered on the concrete. His hands were brought together at the small of his back and metal cuffs snapped around his wrists.
“You’re ruining it!”
“Kirk F?” Aaron hurried to his young friend’s side. Like his mother used to do to band aids on a cut, he ripped the duct tape off his mouth in one quick move. “Come on kid, talk to me.”
“Fuck, that hurt,” Kirk F mumbled, his speech sounding a little slurred.
Aaron didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he loosened the strap over his friend’s head. “Geeze, kid, you had us scared to death.
“Me, too. Other guy?” he asked, turning his head to the left.
“Carson’s got him,” Aaron answered as he shut off the clamp on the blood tubing in Kirk F’s arm, then hurried to get the straps undone.
“Armbruster?”
“SWAT team’s got him in custody. Can you sit up?” he asked once all the leather belted straps were off his body.
“Think so. He gave me something.”
“Probably some kind of paralytic mixed with a narcotic. Kept you still and compliant.” Gripping him by the shoulders, Aaron helped him sit up on the gurney, but kept one hand on him to keep him steady as they watched a pair of uniformed police take custody of Armbruster and march him toward the exit, with Captain Stedaman right behind him.
“Better get the medics in here,” Carson yelled. “This guy’s down a few pints.”
“I’ve got them on the horn. Told them we have two patients,” Jaylon said. He and Matt were helping Carson disconnect the straps on the man. “I’ve clamped off the blood tubing, but maybe we should leave the IV in for the medics to use?” he said to them, as well as the phone pressed against his ear. “They say yes. Leave it in.”
Not two minutes later, in flew the medic team carrying tackle boxes. Another set