I hear a small motor, then some humming but less like a person and more like a machine and finally something touches me and my skin is on fire. I try to pull back from the pain touching my stomach but I don't have anywhere to go and I'm back into the pain. I shake, my muscles clench and relax, I piss myself at one point and after what could be hours I find myself dangling by my wrists not able to keep my feet under me. My torturers, their title has evolved over time, lower me a little to make sure I'm standing. Only reason I'm up is because I can't actually fall and I want to. I hear the motor turn on again and I try to move, get away, do anything as fire burns through every nerve in my body and I bite down on whatever is in my mouth. I don't hear much outside of my own gagged screaming and the motor but there are moments where I hear talking, I can't make out what but whoever is shocking me isn't talking but someone is with a possible third person.
Minutes become hours, hours become a day but for me it's all a blur of pain and screaming. I don't know when they took the gag out of my mouth but I am too weak to cry or even speak anything that could be understood.
"Please… please…," it's all I get out before the motor turns on again and my world is filled with pain.
I don't know when I black out but when I come to I'm wet and not with water and lying on the hard stone floor. I smell blood, a lot of blood and feel more liquid being poured all over my body while the torturers talk in Spanish among themselves. I don't move, not like it's done me good before so I lie there and let it happen. It doesn't take long before I'm leashed around my neck and led bag over my head out. I stumble and stagger before I'm made to stand as the one who has been speaking to me most of
The time pushes something hard against my head.
"This is a 9mm pistol," I hear some metal on metal sounds before it's pressed against my head again," Now the safety is off and it's loaded. Here is what you are going to do if you want us to leave your little girlfriend alone. Walk till I tell you to stop then I'll tell you a direction and you walk it till I stop you. You don't touch the bag, you don't turn and you don't speak. You break the rules and I will put a hole in you then find your little friend and put a hole in her. ?"
I nod; I have to because it's this or death and Sydney's life at stake. My feet hurt on cold pavement and I almost trip while walking as I miss a step when my torturer who is a short distance behind me follows when he says 'left' and I turn till he tells me to 'stop' then 'walk'. Keep walking, all I can do as stones bite my feet. I feel the ridge in the flat like it's a line and figure to follow the line as my torturer doesn't say anything. I falter a little, stumble a lot but I keep walking and eventually hear voices speaking more Spanish. Don't stop, don't talk, just keep walking. I don't know how long people are watching but there is a man speaking to me or to others at me or all at once.
"Stop staring at him and get a blanket from inside. Friend you need to stop. Stop soon it's alright," I feel hands trying to stop me and I shake my head.
"Can't stop or she dies," I weakly nod my head behind me," He'll kill her if he stops."
"Son there is nobody there, nobody is back behind you," the man with a lighter Spanish accent than my torturer informs me.
I feel something put over me, hear people talking about calling the police, I am pulled aside and sit down on what I can only assume is a step or curb as the kind man pulls the bag off my head and I see he's a priest. I'm waiting for a bullet to fly up and kill me but it doesn't and finally flashing red and blue lights come down the street and I'm taken in an ambulance to a hospital.
Nancy Escalante: Guy's room in the present
Very few real details come from Guy's account of events but it matches with what we found both on his body and at the scene. He was stripped and strung up to be electrified for the better part of a day; his assailants only stopped when he passed out. The animal blood is odd though, I will have to bring this up to the gang task force and see if there is any significance to it or just a calling card for whoever did this. What worries me the most right now is Guy, he was tortured and humiliated beyond anything and he's telling me everything with as much detail as he can and yet he's calm and reserved. He even put his arm around his mother during parts to comfort her.
"Mr. Donnelly… Guy I know it was hard to talk about this but thank you for meeting with me. I need to get back to work so I can put a few faces to the men who did this to you," I tell Guy who looks at me confused.
"What good will that do," he asks and I pause at his words," They will get out eventually, they will find me and they will do it again. They've done it twice now and nothing anyone has done so far has been able to stop them. I am waiting here now for the one who spoke to me to come and shoot me."
I kneel down in front of Guy and see not fear but certainty in his words, we failed him and now he believes that the only thing coming for him is death because he didn't do what he was ordered to do.
"Guy, your friend Sydney is fine. Nothing has happened to her at all since we found you and whoever did this isn't brave enough to come after you again," I attempt to assure Guy who looks with sadness.
"Sydney is not my friend anymore, her parents came to see me and they told me that I need to stay away from her for her safety. She will be safe now that we're not close," Guy tells me and I realize how devastating this is for the young man now victim.
"Guy I swear," I get that much out and he stops me.
"Don't, you can't keep it. It's just going to make you look foolish again and you don't deserve that. Forget my case, forget me and move on. Better people need your help," Guy says the words before holding his mother who is tearing up at his words.
I leave slowly, I want to say something or even assure him that things will be better but I need more than words for that. I see John on my way out and he kisses me on the forehead before sending me on my way. Back at the station, I have work to do.
Mark Delauter Senior: two hours after meeting with Detective Escalante
"Mr. Delauter as the psychiatrist you requested I must advise that Guy needs time in a private facility so that we can assess the level of damage that was done to his mental well being," Dr. Hill is arguing but either I have this argument or one with my wife in an hour.
"I understand your hesitation Dr. Hill but he is speaking and he asked, didn't demand or threaten, just asked if he could come home and that is where he should be," I state as Dr. Hill begins what I can only assume is a rant explaining why this is a bad decision.
Personally I don't think it's the best decision but when you leave someone inside a box for too long all they think about is the box. What happens outside the box ceases to exist and to the outside world they cease to exist. I've used it in many closing arguments for appeals and the few criminal cases I've handled and it's true from what I've seen. Guy refuses a wheelchair or clothes other than the loose nursing top and pants he was given and walks out in slippers they provided. Loretta wants to sit with him in the back but he insists that she sit with me in the front while I drive us home. It's quiet and too familiar to the last time we brought Guy home from a hospital.
"It's so beautiful out there," he says and I look to see him staring out the window.
"Honey, are you sure you don't need more time to recover before coming home? There is no shame in getting all the help you need," Loretta asks and instead of arguing Guy smiles at her.
"Thank you Mom but no, I need to be home. I need to feel like… I don't know but I can't feel anything in the hospital and would probably feel less in a care facility and besides I am old enough to wipe my own ass," Guy tells us and that's when I realize he told a joke.
"Loretta we agreed that if Guy wants to return home then we bring him home and besides the rest of the family have been very concerned," I tell my wife and Guy perks up.
"Are Abby and Beth alright? Did someone say something to them? Mark drops classes," Guy begins asking rapid fire questions and it takes Loretta to calm him down.
"They are doing well honey, they are only concerned about you," my wife's words help my stepson to relax.