by Kim Petersen
He panted as he tried to grasp and hold on to one thought before it could dissolve and corrupt his mind in a disorganized puzzle. He squeezed his eyes tight, feeling the sweat sting behind closed eyelids. He bit his lip and knotted his hands until his knuckles grew white and his fingers ached. He struggled against the constant shivers convulsing through his muscles and joints. He was way overdue for his next hit, yet he needed to gather his thoughts, even if for just one sweet moment. A trembling hand twisted his wrist for a quick glance at his watch. It’s time for Shabu. A wave of relief flooded his senses as he granted himself permission and fumbled through his backpack for his syringe kit.
Zane sighed as his stocky fingers clasped the thin vile, drawing the designer-made electric blue liquid into its awaiting receptacle. His thoughts slowed, alleviated by the prospect of the experience he was about to own – his custom-made, designer crystal methamphetamine, lovingly created by his own hands, and willingly tested on his own special little guinea pig, Keira.
He called it Shabu. Its transformational powers made it more than your average crystal meth; it made him feel special, and there was only one other thing on earth coupled with Shabu that would make him unstoppable.
‘The Serenity Seed,’ he said. He imagined it was a seed like no other. In his mind, it was as golden as the sun and its small radiant capsule emanated just as much power. Power. He allowed the word to drift through his consciousness as he plunged the needle into the skin between his toes. His father had drummed the word into him for as long as he could remember. It was all about power, whatever the cost. When he finally got his hands on the Serenity Seed, he would be like a ruthless bullet smashing his way to the top. That was because he knew whoever possessed the seed had the power to manipulate the world, especially with Apepsis the serpent god at his side. ‘I must find it before my father … I must, I must.’
Zane rose to his feet, forcing his mind to quieten while he envisioned the seed and all that would be his when he found it. The idea felt so good, a surge of elation soared through him. But the elation vanished as soon as it dawned on him that he had no idea where to find the seed. His father was certain Regan Knowles kept the seed, but as he watched Regan circling his home from the shadows of his backyard earlier that night, he appeared as clueless as he was as to its location. He figured if Regan had the Serenity Seed, surely he would be invincible by now. He knew little of Regan, only in passing and the occasional business deal when their turfs intersect, but he was certain Vincent Knowles’ nephew would be just as much out for supremacy as the rest of them.
A rush of energy burst through his body as the vibrant-blue drug violated his veins and infected his blood. He gave a gnarly laugh. Fuck Regan Knowles. Dark Star my ass … I can take that self-invented con, he thought, safe in the knowledge he had Shabu, and that Regan had no seed on his side. No, the seed is elsewhere … He stumbled toward a basin in his father’s gymnasium. His face stung as he splashed cold water over his raw skin, but he welcomed the pang against his opened wounds. With every tingle, he felt himself gentrify and his mind become clearer.
As he lifted his face and gazed into the mirror, he again glimpsed the shadow behind him. He flinched and whirled around, scanning the room for any signs of movement. There was nothing. I’m losing my mind. He shrugged and reached for a towel, smothering his face with the fluffy fabric. He felt the presence of the shadow crush over him, tangling through mind and weaving within his deepest recesses like poisonous tentacles. He froze. His breath became shallow as his chest constricted as the presence corrupted his entire body. A hideous growl issued unbidden out of his contorted mouth as the clarity he desired eluded him, plunging his mind into a dense cloud of hatred and pain.
Two words echoed through his perception like a relentless staccato.
Zane collapsed to the floor, his breathing labored, his head spinning as the rancorous gloom finally released him. He gritted his teeth and snarled, cursing loudly as he always did through the process; the shift. He felt the final drop of his blood fuse with the crystal meth in a perfect unison as his thoughts began to crystallize. He grinned, realizing the information the dark force had bestowed upon him in his shift.
He rose to his feet, his dark eyes speckled with lapis-blue, pierced into the mirror. His lips curled up to reveal a set of thick white fangs as he slowly flipped out a long, forked tongue toward the mirror. His bald head was now a thick scaly hide cocked to one side. He was mesmerized at the beast that stared back at him, and he licked at his reflection in fascination. His stomach lurched with a sudden thirst for blood. He clawed for the blood-splattered jacket he had thrown aside when he arrived. He snatched up the jacket and sucked at the fresh blood stains that had once flowed thick and scarlet in his children’s veins. His tongue siphoned every last drop of blood from the material as if his life depended on it, which perhaps it did. He wondered what Shabu was doing to him. All he knew was that his power became stronger with every hit; as was his thirst for blood. He flung the jacket aside and studied his transformation. He was special again; and now he had the information he needed.
Now I know where to find the seed, he thought, savoring the sensation sweeping through him.
‘Arella Anderson,’ he said. He reached for his cell phone. ‘Come out, come out wherever you are.’
He thought that it should be fairly easy to find this Arella Anderson. She held the key to the power fated to be his. He scrolled through his phone before finding the contact he sought. He would need to handle this one on the sly, use his own contacts who had no connection or loyalty to his father. He began to hum a little tune as he spied the name he wanted and clicked the speed dial. He knew that when he found the woman and gained the prize he desired, he would be the most enviable and respected man among his underworld peers. The first task on his list would be to get rid of Alexander Crais; he had more than enough of his deadbeat dad’s antics.
His contact answered. Images of Zane’s dead family vanished from his mind as Shabu worked its magic, spreading euphoria and strength through his body. Collateral damage was to be expected on missions such as these.
Suddenly things didn’t seem so bad after all.
An awkward silence drifted between them as Craig drove through the desolate streets of the outskirts of the city. Jacques snored lightly from the backseat, filling the thorny gaps with his graceful snuffling.
Arella blinked against the bright lights of the 24-hour gas station. She frowned as her sight focused on a man using the gas pumps. Most of his long blond hair was cinched at his nape, yet the untamed strands that hung over his brow concealed his face from her as they passed. Her frown deepened. She could have sworn it was the man they’d met earlier at The Underpass, yet she couldn’t be sure. A sudden shiver shot through her, and when she stared back at the road ahead, she was struck with an overwhelming feeling of foreboding.
As the dazzling gas station lights faded behind them, she felt as if she were seeping into the darkness between the pools of light along the dirty sidewalk.
Craig smiled over at her. ‘What’s going on, Rella? You know you can talk to me.’
His voice was gentle, soothing to her ear and triggering the deep-rooted affection she harbored for him. He had a way of easing her discord – ever since she was a little girl; and tonight, the jangle was plaguing her.
‘I know.’ She sighed heavily, thinking of the attack on Jacques, her missing best friend, and the stranger she called her boyfriend.
She didn’t have the energy to go there with Craig tonight; what she needed was a couple of pain killers for her throbbing head and a steaming hot shower. Then bed. A big empty bed.
‘So, how are my cousins and bro going in Europe? They must be having a blast.’
Her twin cousins, Angel and Charity, left for Europe six months before along with her baby brother, Cael. The three had completed their high school years together and had spent many hours devising and working toward their adventurous gap year journey before they
each knuckled down into their chosen career paths. They had wanted her to join them on their travels, especially given her situation with Logan. Arella knew her family didn’t understand her decision to forgive his indiscretions. In fact, she was beginning to understand them not understanding.
Craig gave a half laugh. ‘You’ve always sucked at small talk, but I’ll play along. You know they’re all a lot younger than you. We usually hear from them when they’re hung over and seedy. I’m just glad they’re together. They’ll be catching up with your folks in Germany next week, I think.’ He glanced over at her. ‘How are things at home with Logan?’
Arella squirmed in her seat, wearily pushing back her long dark hair as her gaze clung to the churning dark waters of the bay they were now passing. ‘You know me, I can’t stand defeat.’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps that is my Achilles heel.’
He reached for her shoulder, stroking her gently.
‘There is no defeat in trying, Rella, but sometimes we just have to let things go … including people.’
Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she nodded. She knew it was time to let Logan walk from her life, yet even after all their struggles, she knew she would miss him.
‘I guess sometimes things aren’t meant to be,’ she whispered.
He squeezed her shoulder. ‘And some things are. Change isn’t always a bad thing. You’ll be just fine, you’ll see.’
Some minutes later they pulled up in front of the apartment building where Jacques lived. Arella woke him, helping him steady his feet as she walked him to the entrance.
‘Will you make it up the stairs okay?’ she asked, straightening his jacket and adjusting the scarf around his neck.
‘I’ll be fine, Button; just need a good night’s sleep,’ he replied, tentatively fingering his nose. His eyes narrowed. ‘My nose is as good as new. What did Bella do to me? Is she some kind of witch?’
Arella laughed lightly. ‘She’s better than some kind of witch. She’s an Ascended Angel.’
He screwed up his nose. ‘An Ascended what?’
She shook her head. ‘I think you’ve had enough surprises for one night. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow – promise.’ She planted a kiss on his flushed rounded cheek. ‘Love you.’
He opened his mouth as if to protest, then just as quickly clamped it shut again. His shoulders drooped.
‘Okay, but only because I’m utterly exhausted and need all the beauty sleep I can get to get over tonight’s fiasco.’ He turned toward the heavy glass entry doors.
He stood in the threshold and paused to glance at her, sweeping his gray gaze over the length of her body. ‘You should consider doing the same, Button, and please use that blood orange face peel before you go to bed tonight. You will shower thanks all over me in the morning, promise.’
Her head rolled back along with her eyes. ‘Okay, get up those stairs now!’ she laughed, ushering him away as she made for the car.
She started to make her way through the tree-lined path toward the street when something made her pause. The fine hairs on the back of her neck bristled against her scarf as an eerie awareness enveloped her, giving her the feeling she was being watched. She scanned the gardens to either side. The green oasis was still in the crisp night and glowed lush in the warm light of the small garden lanterns scattered throughout the courtyard. A chill looped its way up her spine. She shook her head. Stop being silly! It’s just leftover paranoia from our earlier ambush, she chided herself. Surely those brutes have made their point clear.
She picked up her pace and nearly ran back to the car.
Arella popped two pills from their blister packet and swallowed them with a hefty lug of water before heading to her bedroom. She padded through the dark house, tearing the scarf from her throat and removing her jacket as she passed the living room. There she paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the charcoal etched room. The vibrant hues of the room by day were all but a vivid dream, and the scattered photos remnants of another happier life.
Through the shadows her eyes settled on a frame sitting on her French provincial lamp table. The photo had been taken about 18 months earlier when she, Logan, Keira and Charles had driven down the coast for some waterfall trekking. It had been an unexpected hot day and by the time they reached the waterfall they had stripped down to their underwear to paddle in the cool waters of the lagoon. Charles had snapped the shot of herself, Logan and Keira while they splashed like teenagers under the cascading water. It was one of her favorites.
So much has changed since then, she thought. In an abrupt surge of anger, she pitched her jacket and scarf at the haunting frame and roared. The frame crashed against the mahogany table top with a sharp crash of shattering glass. She shrieked and collapsed to the floor, balling her fists into the carpet while tears clogged her eyes. It was only the escalating pounding in her head that forced her to stop; she was certain her veins were about to explode.
Arella wiped at her face as she gazed around the room self-consciously, as if the shadowed walls had faces and would betray her foolishness. She crawled over the carpet pile to the broken frame and picked it up. She stared at the playful reflection of their eyes as she recalled the last time she saw Keira.
Arella closed the studio door behind the last of her art students. A quick glance at the wrought iron clock on the far wall revealed she had been successful in wrapping up the session early – it was 7pm – still early for a summer Friday night out on the town. Logan would be working at the bar late, and it had been forever since she had a night out with Keira. She raced about the studio recapping paint lids, plopping brushes in turpentine and dimming the lights before dialing Keira as she scampered to her car.
Keira answered her call on the third chime.
‘Hey, you all set for a crazy night out?’ Arella’s breathless voice swished down the line while she shoved her bags into the back seat and slid behind the wheel.
‘Oh, I am all dolled up like Marilyn, honey. How long are you going to be? These margaritas are beginning to go to my head.’
‘On my way home now. Give me an hour, and please take it easy on the margs – the night is still young, and we have a city to corrupt!’ Arella laughed.
After showering, Arella used her fingers and a little product to enhance and separate her long wild curls. She slipped into a little black dress and her favorite peep-toed stilettos and made up her face to match her glamorous look. She took a long sip of sauvignon blanc before spraying a few hefty shots of perfume into the air and throwing herself into the heady mist. A final once over in the mirror assured her of her fabulousness and she was all set to go.
They caught the train into Sydney and kept the conversation light. Each of them had their own reason to avoid the truth about Keira’s drug dependence and her recent downward spiral. Each of them yearned for the time when they were easy with each other; and for a fleeting moment, it almost felt like old times.
How easy it could be to play make believe for all the wrong reasons. Sometimes, the simplest words or gestures could also be the hardest to endure, and Arella had no trouble playing along tonight. She was too busy enjoying her friend, and she was pleased to see Keira looking more like her old self. It was time to allow herself a night of freedom.
They started at an old favorite – Kinselas near Oxford Street, where the crowd still generated a cool mix of people. Kinselas was one of the fewer clubs in the city where you could find hipsters and trancers sharing the same floor space with bikies and skegs. It wasn’t rare to spot the odd celebrity getting down on the ultra-cool VIP level either.
Tequila shots between salty margaritas and tiny glasses of spicy tomato juice flowed as Arella and Keira soon hit the dance floor in full hip-rolling mode. Arella had convinced herself that Keira had finally left behind the drugs when Charles deserted her. She seemed happier and brighter. She even went to the trouble of polishing her nails. Yet, when Keira answered a phone call a few hours later, her dark eyes sparkled brighter than Arella thought possi
ble.
‘I gotta go honey!’ Keira gushed. ‘It’s my new boyfriend, Shabu. Remember the one I spoke with you about a few weeks back.’
‘You mean the one you shoved me out of your front door for?’
‘Yeah!’ Keira grinned, playfully shoving Arella’s shoulder. ‘He called! I gotta go to him, you know. He’s like nothing else I ever had before!’
Arella scowled. ‘You’re dumping me for a guy tonight? You … we … don’t do that to each other, Keira – dump the other in the city at night; it’s our long-lasting pact. What’s really going on?’
Keira screwed up her nose. Arella thought if she knew how hideous she looked with a multi-layered make-up corkscrew look, she’d never do it again. At least not the Keira she knew.
‘We made that pact when we were younger and single. Things are different now. You’re a big girl; you can find your way home,’ Keira retorted.
Arella flashed her palms.
‘Whoa! Don’t let me step on any toes! I’d rather stomp on them. So tell me, what the fuck is Shabu? Because I sure as hell have trouble believing anything you say these days.’
Keira’s flaming red lips contorted savagely.
‘That’s right! Little miss can’t do no wrong because I am an Ascended Angel descendant bitch. We’re not all as fucking perfect as you lot, are we? It might come as a surprise because everyone else pales in comparison to your wholesome goodness, but I don’t happen to be the person you think I am – that was an illusion. I happen to be the girl that doesn’t give a dirty fuck what you think, and I sure as hell don’t have to explain to you who or what Shabu is,’ she spat.