by Kyoko M
“Holy shit,” Faye said, her jaw dropping. “The Suicide Forest? Seriously?”
Jack flashed her a startled look. “Wait, the what?”
“Jack, that forest is one of the most haunted places on the planet. It’s the second most popular spot for suicides worldwide. Only the Golden Gate Bridge has more. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Absolutely not, but we can’t risk anyone else’s lives. We have to find her before she kills more innocent people.”
Faye rubbed her arms. “I don’t envy you. Forget the fact that you have to figure out how to subdue a dragon the size of a T-Rex. Nothing could get me to go into that forest.”
“Afraid of ghosts, are we?”
“Like any normal person would be. They say they find dozens of corpses per year, and a lot of people get lured into the forest, get lost, and never come back out. Then there are the ones who specifically came there to die, and that’s even more eerie.”
“You don’t say,” Jack mumbled, shuddering as he felt goosebumps popping up along his arms and the back of his neck. “You just made this whole trip a lot easier.”
“Well, you should know what you’re getting into. I suppose you’ll need the tracker again?”
“Yeah. If you could calibrate it after we get back that would be a huge help. Having a heads up would save us a lot of pain. I definitely don’t want to accidentally stumble across her in the middle of a damned haunted forest.”
“Happy to help. Anything to keep the two of you safe.”
They fell silent for a while. Faye turned on some soft jazz as background music. Jack cleared his throat and shook himself out of his own morbid, apprehensive thoughts. “So what exactly are we attending, anyway?”
“It’s actually just an award ceremony for my department, but that’s not why we’re going. I’ve got my eyes on a certain professor and I need to make a good impression tonight.”
Jack didn’t say anything, but the look he gave her was enough to make her groan. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jack, it’s not like that. He’ll be choosing people for a new program that I want to get into and I need to butter him up. My competition will also be there and I have to show that I’m the best candidate.”
“Hey, I didn’t say a word,” he mused. “Careers are important. I just wanted some context. Anything I need to do or not do?”
“Be a gentleman, but don’t be a Yes Man. The professor’s kind of stodgy, so I’d avoid making a lot of wisecracks, which I know is near impossible for you. Don’t engage unless you have something worthwhile to say. Mostly it’s just the illusion. Some older men are unconsciously sexist, so seeing an independent beautiful woman with brains makes them feel defensive or inferior. Having you on my arm will help prevent that from happening. Plus, you’re well-known in the scientific world and they might be a little impressed that you’re my escort.”
“Wow. You’ve got this down to an art, huh?”
“Got to play the game, Stilts. Stifle my ego for one boring evening and I get to open new doors for the future. Fair trade, if you ask me.”
“That sounds realistic, but it annoys me that you’d have to put in this much effort at all. A man who can’t accept an insanely smart, gorgeous woman working with him is nothing short of an asshole, however brilliant he might be.”
Faye watched him for a moment, a slow smile crawling across her lips. “You’re only saying that because you can see down my dress, aren’t you?”
“Am I that obvious?”
She laughed softly. “Always.”
Not long afterward, Jack pulled up into the roundabout entrance to the hotel and let Faye out before handing the keys over to the valet. He offered his arm once more and they strolled inside, pausing to check in at the guest list just outside of the ballroom.
The ballroom was dimly lit and had four huge chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Like most hotels, the wallpaper and carpet were bland beige to help set a calming mood. The buffet table was against the far left wall and round tables were covered with white linen. The other end of the room had a small stage with a podium and there was a projector nearby showing slideshows of each individual department. Ladies swished by in expensive gowns and floral perfumes and men followed in smart tuxedos and exotic cologne. Jack and Faye shared a look, a resigned sigh, and stepped in to start their rounds.
They made their way around the room greeting Faye’s colleagues and then swung past the buffet table for a light repast before the award ceremony began. Thankfully, it was only about half an hour long and then the lights came back on so that everyone could chat with the winners. Faye took a final sip of her white wine and mumbled, “Showtime” to Jack as they rose from the table.
Dr. Ernest Ross fit the description that Jack had conjured in his mind: fat, balding, glasses, and a brow wrinkled from years of frowning and squinting at people. Unlike most of the people surrounding him, he wore the full-blown traditional tuxedo that had tails. Jack snickered to Faye that he looked like Oswald Cobblepot and she pinched him, though it made her laugh nonetheless.
Dr. Ross was at the center of a small throng of people congratulating him on winning one of the awards, and Jack was mostly a head taller than those around him, so he wedged the two of them into the group without much fuss.
Faye offered her hand. “Congratulations, Dr. Ross.”
He shook it once. “Thank you, my dear. I think I’ve seen you before. Remind me of your name?”
“Faye Worthington.”
“Ah. I thought so. I never forget a face.”
Or breasts, Jack thought to himself, clenching his jaw as he noticed Dr. Ross’ gaze sliding below her neckline. However, the older man was distracted a second later as he glanced at Jack next.
“Oh, Dr. Jackson, isn’t it?”
Jack shook his hand briefly. “It is.”
“What brings you to such a terribly dry evening event?”
“A favor for a friend,” Jack said, slapping on his warmest smile. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for Ms. Worthington here.”
“Good to know. Your ears must have been burning. We were all just having a chat about current events, actually.”
Jack forced himself not to frown. “I see. Well, it’s not exactly good conversation for this particular setting, wouldn’t you say?”
“Perhaps not, but it’s hard not to discuss. I admit we’re all a bit curious as to what your thoughts are about the rogue dragon.”
“Really, I’d rather we didn’t make the conversation about me.”
“Yes,” Faye jumped in, to Jack’s relief. “Dr. Ross, why don’t you tell us a bit about that semester abroad you had teaching at Oxford this past summer?”
Ross looked slightly deflated, but not long after he launched into a spiel about the summer program, he seemed to forget about Jack entirely. Meanwhile, Jack mentally clocked out of the conversation for a few minutes, though he kept his face arranged to look politely interested, until the discussion switched to a new topic. Naturally, they were all various kinds of engineers so he only picked out certain words among the technical jargon, but at least it was better than listening to Ross ruffle his own feathers.
“With all due respect,” Faye said. “I disagree. I think the theory is solid and has a lot of room to elaborate with how our technology has changed in recent years. Especially—”
“Well, you’re still not considering the short term problems that would impede getting it into production in the long run.”
Faye’s smile became knife-edged. “Perhaps if you let me finish my point, I could get to that.”
“Oh,” the pompous dark-haired man said, his smile ever so slightly smug. “I wasn’t aware that you still had one, sweetheart.”
A deafening short silence fell. Jack felt Faye’s hand grip his bicep on reflex. Had he been a smarter man, he would have considered letting the insult slide. Too bad he wasn’t.
/> “Well,” Jack said casually. “I think her point was that one must pay attention to details when analyzing the practical application of technology in its infant stage. Were you someone capable of noticing that kind of thing, you’d realize that your fly has been down this entire time and we’re all gratuitously aware of your, ahem, shortcomings.”
Jack followed the statement with the nicest smile possible. “Sweetheart.”
The dark-haired man turned beet red, glanced down to see that Jack had been correct, and stomped away. A faint ziiiip sound followed and the group burst into laughter at his expense. Jack felt Faye’s hand relax on his arm.
“Now, Jack,” Faye said, feigning disapproval. “That was completely out of line.”
“You’re right. Sorry about that. I’ll go apologize.”
She winked as he slipped away from the group and she picked up where they’d left off, leading the discussion. Jack went back to the buffet table and ate some brownies until he felt a tap on his shoulder about five minutes later.
“Mission accomplished,” Faye said, wiping a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get the hell out of this dump.”
He swallowed the mouthful of chocolate before speaking. “Feed me, Seymour.”
She chuckled. “Yes, I will buy you dinner on the way home.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
Though they got significantly weird looks, the two stopped at Boston Burger Company for a big bite to eat. They made a game of eating the burgers without getting a stain on their fancy clothes. Unsurprisingly, Faye won.
“Ugh,” Jack grumbled, slinging his tuxedo jacket over one shoulder as they walked down the block towards the car. “You cheated.”
“Oh really?” she scoffed. “How’s that?”
“You’re all dainty and small. Of course you didn’t drip anything on yourself.”
“Dainty? How dainty am I going to be after I stick my high-heeled foot up your narrow ass?”
He grinned. “Even daintier.”
“Stop saying dainty.”
“Stop saying dainty? Why should I stop saying dainty? Is dainty bothering you?”
“I swear, Jack, I will—” She abruptly fell silent.
He faced her. “You’ll what?”
That was when he noticed she was staring open-mouthed over his shoulder, her lovely face pale under the street lamp. He started to call her name, but she grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him to the ground.
Then the gunshots started.
CHAPTER FOUR
OUTRUN MY GUN
Jack couldn’t hear as well with Faye’s slender upper body shielding him, but the sound of gunshots was unmistakable, almost drowning out the shriek of tires on the street. Chunks of sidewalk flew into the air around them as the bullets punched into the concrete. He heard the roar of an engine and then caught sight of a truck with blacked out windows thundering past with a masked man hefting an Uzi in their direction. Faye had yanked him out of the way not a second too soon. The bullets went over his head and ricocheted off the store front behind them, shattering glass in a painful shower over their bodies.
People nearby screamed and ran for cover, ducking behind the parallel-parked cars or hurrying inside the nearest buildings. Jack heard the SUV’s tires screech again and immediately knew what that meant.
He scooted out from under Faye, whose eyes were wide with terror. “Are you okay?”
She nodded shakily. “Y-Yeah.”
“Come on!” He hauled her up and shoved her in front of him. “Go!”
Faye kicked off her heels and took off down the street. Jack followed, glancing behind them. The SUV couldn’t make a U-turn on the street they were on without getting trapped. Instead, it reversed and made a beeline towards them. The man with the automatic weapon dangled out the rear passenger’s side and took aim a second time. Jack flinched as he heard the windows behind him puncture and barked out to Faye, “Go left up ahead!”
She ducked into the alleyway of an apartment complex and he followed. She ripped the door to the lobby open and he slammed it shut behind them.
“Stairwell!” Jack shouted, pointing to their right. They bolted inside and started climbing. It was close to eight o’clock, so the stairwell was empty. They ran up four flights and then hurried into the hallway to catch their breath.
“What,” Faye panted out. “The fuck was that?”
“Dunno,” Jack gasped back. “Maybe a hitman?”
“A hitman?” she sputtered. “Why? What did you do?”
“Nothing yet. Maybe it’s what I’m about to do.” He searched his pockets and cursed.
“Dammit, my phone was in my jacket and it’s out on the damn street.”
“So was mine. How long before we know if he followed us?”
“There’s no telling. Someone’s called the cops by now, but that doesn’t mean he won’t keep coming after us while they’re on the way. Start knocking on doors. See if someone will let us in to use their phone. I’ll keep an eye out.”
She nodded and went for the first of five doors on each side of the hallway. Jack took a deep, steadying breath and inched back to the stairwell door. He counted to ten and then cracked the door. Nothing yet. No footsteps. Odds were his pursuer would check each floor’s hallway before continuing up. They wouldn’t have long.
Fortunately, the sixth door Faye knocked on had a female college student home who had heard the gunshots on the street below and agreed to let them in.
Unfortunately, Jack heard footsteps pounding up the stairs to their floor.
He sprinted to the girl’s apartment and shut the door, locking it. She was short, blonde, and wearing pajamas. Her TV was playing an episode of Sherlock via Netflix. Jack motioned for her to mute it and then told her to go into her bedroom, lock the door, and call the cops.
Faye scanned the girl’s small kitchen until she found a couple large knives, handing one to Jack.
“Thanks," he said. "Stay with her.”
Faye glared. “Are you shitting me? Really?”
“He’s after me, Faye,” he hissed. “Do you want to get caught in the crossfire?”
“I’m not leaving you out here by yourself. I saved your life, asshole.”
He gritted his teeth, realizing she was right. “Fine. Give the girl the knife and stay close.”
She slipped away from the kitchen and told the girl that if anyone other than them came through that bedroom door to defend herself however possible. Jack stayed poised to one side of the front door, breathing light and fast, listening intently for any movement outside the apartment. There was no telling if the man had seen him duck in there at the last second. All he could do was wait.
Faye had just come back around the corner when the masked man kicked the door in.
She dove over the couch into the den as the man opened fire on instinct, tearing up the far wall with bullets.
Jack slashed the man’s right arm with the knife. The masked attacker screamed and dropped the gun. Jack kicked it across the carpet and yelled, “Faye!”
The masked man growled and grabbed Jack’s wrist as he came down with the knife, stopping it mere inches from his chest. He slammed Jack into the wall behind them and head-butted him in the nose. Excruciating pain flared across Jack’s face and made his eyes tear, loosening his grip on the knife. It fell from his hand and the man grabbed it, flipping the blade expertly towards Jack instead. Jack grabbed the man’s arm in mid-stroke before the knife could meet its mark, straining with all his might to keep it away.
“Hey!” Faye bellowed.
The man’s head snapped to one side. Faye stood at the end of the small foyer with the Uzi in her hands and hellfire in her blue eyes. “Put the knife down or I’ll blow your fucking head off, asshole.”
The man breathed hard through his nose, as if contemplating something. “Drop the gun or I’ll k
ill him.”
“Kill him and I’ll kill you.”
The man said nothing for a terse moment. “You got balls on you, blondie.”
He relaxed his frame and let the butcher knife fall between them. Jack kicked it out of reach as the man held up his arms in surrender. Jack stumbled to one side and wiped away the blood dripping from his nose. “Get on your knees.”
Jack couldn’t see his expression through the ski mask, but he was pretty sure the guy sneered at him. “I’m not your mother last night.”
Jack paused and then punched the man in the gut as hard as he could. The masked man collapsed to his knees. Jack relished the groan that left the man’s winded lungs, but then he heard him mutter something a second later.
“Made ya look.”
The man pulled an oblong cylinder out of his pocket and tossed it at Faye. Jack didn’t think twice. He tackled her over the couch and shielded her as the grenade went off.
A blinding white light filled the apartment and a thunderous sound burst the window, the coffee pot, and cracked the flat-screen TV on the entertainment center behind them. It took Jack a full minute or so to realize it had been a flash-bang, not a real grenade, and that the masked man had fled the apartment. However, the couch had taken some of the brunt of the force from the projectile, so he wasn’t completely deaf and dazed as he pushed up on shaky arms to look at Faye.
“You okay?” he asked through the piercing whine in his ears.
“I think you crushed my spine,” she wheezed. “Otherwise, I’m all good.”
He chuckled weakly. “Sorry. Thought it was the real deal.”
“Liar. You just wanted an excuse to be on top for once.”
They both lay there, injured, bleeding, and laughing hysterically until the cops came.
***
“How did I manage to get two facial injuries the same day?” Jack moaned, his voice slightly nasal now that his nose was packed with cotton balls and taped. It wasn’t broken, but it had been bleeding profusely for the past hour. What had started as a slight bruising around his left temple had now progressed to full-blown purplish-blue bruises surrounding both eyes. Jack thought Rocky Balboa looked better at the end of every title match than he did right now.