Temper for You

by Genna Rulon

  “Wes, man, you need to relax. You’re bound to have an aneurysm before we have a chance to storm the castle and save the day at the rate you’re going,” Hunter said. “I know you’re worried…I am too. But I’ve already confirmed through video surveillance at the Greyhound terminal in New York that Meg traveled by bus. We may not have identified her exact route, but it would have taken two—almost three—days to get to any of the major cities near To Ieró. We—” he paused to offer yet another reprimanding look, my trip to Oregon remained a point of contention, “beat her here by at least a day, so forgive me if I take this time to actually prepare for her rescue instead of going in half-cocked and jeopardizing her life, along with those of every other member of the cult.”

  “God, you are a pompous prick—and they call me an asshole,” I muttered. “I understand the logistics…why do you think I’ve been so patient up until now?”

  He scoffed, “Patient? I’m buying you a dictionary for your birthday. You have not exhibited one shred of patience since calling me at six am, New Year’s morning… ‘Hunter, she’s gone! She went back to those fucking KoolAid-drinking nutjobs because she’s trying to be a goddamn martyr. Grab your fucking gun and meet me at JFK Airport in forty-five minutes or I’m leaving without you,’” he said in an unflattering impersonation of my voicemail. “I had to have the damn TSA prevent you from boarding the plan until I arrived to collect your impulsive ass. Again, I know you’re scared shitless—I understand, I’ve been there, too—but we aren’t moving on To Ieró until we confirm she is inside and have all equipment and personnel in place to ensure her safe extraction. We are assuming she’s already inside, but we can’t be certain she was in any of the trucks that have arrived over the last twenty-four hours. If we go in hard and our assumption is wrong, she’ll be gone with God-knows-how-many abductors and we may never find her. So, sit your ass down, shut your mouth, and let us do our jobs. You’re here as a favor—don’t take advantage or I’ll cut you out of the loop and you’ll really suffer the wait.”

  Biting my tongue until it bled, I withheld the scathing reply that was dying to be voiced. Hunter’s ability to disassociate from the situation to objectively evaluate each course of action before selecting a strategy was sensible—only it irritated the fuck out of me. If our positions were reversed, I knew I would be the one playing the consummate tactician. However, it was my girl that had willingly walked into unfathomable danger to protect me and our friends.

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher her reasons for sneaking away in the middle of the night. She’d decided in her guilt-addled brain that the only way to protect the rest of us from Jay’s fate was to sacrifice herself. If this were an action flick, I’d think her heroic—in real life, I wanted to spank her ass for carelessly tossing her life away.

  Gathering the remains of my sanity, I finally spoke. “I need to get her out, Hunter—soon, as in yesterday. I can’t live without her.”

  He sighed heavily. “I know, Wes,” he sympathized. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you to come to Oregon. The movies make my job look like one dramatic showdown after another, but the reality is far less exciting. Most of the time is spent acquiring intel, then planning the least dramatic maneuver to obtain our objective—in this case, bringing your girl home safely while obtaining the necessary evidence to put the bastard behind bars for life. The hurry up and wait is unbearable for everyone. But I assure you, it’s almost time. Just hang tight a little while longer. I promise we will bring her back to you.”

  His promise wasn’t enough to assuage my riotous emotions—fear being the predominant one—but it was as much as Hunter or anyone could offer.

  “Special Agent Charles,” a female agent said while entering the office we occupied, “we just received infrared images that indicate everyone at the compound is now located in the central building—something is definitely going down. Tech is working to establish audio feed, but there’s no chance at visual confirmation beyond satellite and infrared. The surrounding land is too densely wooded and the main building is in the heart of the compound. Do you want to send ground recon to confirm the girl is present before sending a full unit in?”

  “No, hold off on the solo recon—we don’t know if there are any warning systems in place that will tip our hand. I want to go in hard and fast when the time comes. We will give tech a few hours to attempt audio verification before moving in.”

  A few hours—is he insane? There was no way I was waiting one hour, let alone several, now that everyone was assembling for ‘something.’ And I knew exactly what that ‘something’ was. Hunter’s communications expert was able to translate the email—not that there was much to it. Other than the alpha and omega symbols, there was only one word…purification. Undoubtedly, The Sacred were gathering in the meeting hall my girl had described for her ‘purification’ ceremony. The thought made me simultaneously want to vomit and punch someone…anyone. Hunter was currently my primary candidate.

  “No,” Hunter abruptly declared.

  I turned to find him staring directly at me. “Huh?”

  “Whatever you’re thinking—don’t. If you take one step out of this office, I’ll lock you in an interrogation room until I have your girl back home in New York,” Hunter threatened convincingly.

  “I’m not waiting hours for you to try and get audio in that godforsaken shithole in the middle of nowhere. It’s a waste of time…a Hail Mary pass. Stop following some bullshit protocol to cover your ass and worry about saving my woman, or I’ll do it my own fucking self!” I shouted, my frustration spewing forth.

  “Calm down, you impatient ass. Not that I owe you any explanation, but I’m not trying to ‘cover my ass.’ I would put my career—not to mention my fucking life—on the line to bring her back safely. The voice transmitter should already be in place if she’s in there; tech just needs to identify and boost the signal. Then we’ll have audio, which will give us a clearer picture so we can formulate an entry strategy that minimizes the risks to your girl.”

  It was not the answer I wanted, but his logic was persuasive. If a few hours would provide the necessary information to ensure her safety during the rescue, I would find a way to muddle through. The audio would—

  “What did you just say?” I asked calmly.

  Hunter released an impatient breath before replying, “Which part? I’ve said a lot in the last ten minutes.”

  “The audio—you said if she was there, the bug was in place,” I led.

  Hunter looked away, not meeting my eyes.

  Son-of-a-BITCH!

  That motherfucker knew…he fucking knew she was going to leave.

  “Wes, you have to understand…she was our best chance to take this guy down. And she would have come on her own after what happened to Jay. It made sense to use her—”

  The punch came as a total shock or I have no doubt he would have deflected my efforts. As it was, he was on his ass, rubbing the cheek which would be marked with the evidence of my fury by tomorrow. Stepping forward, intent to continue his well-deserved beating, the fucking Karate Kid somersaulted away from me before springing to his feet. Undaunted by his display of skills, I swung for his chin, hoping for a knock-out. He deftly averted my fist but failed to capture me.

  “I’m going to beat your traitorous ass until even your own mother won’t recognize you! And if anything happens to her, Hunter, I’ll put you in the ground,” I vowed.

  “Jesus Christ!” he bellowed, once again thwarting my attempts to introduce my fist to his face.

  Changing tactics, I landed a blow to his stomach, which earned me a satisfying grunt of pain. However, I lost my advantage as proximity allowed him to slither behind me and snake his arms around my waist and neck. Fully restrained in his constricting embrace, I yielded—temporarily.

  “If I let you go, will you settle down enough for me to explain?” he asked, breathing heavily.

  That he would imply there was any reasonable explanation for his
betrayal was enough to reignite my temper, resulting in an elbow to his ribs. It was a good hit considering my limited range of motion.

  “Dammit!” Hunter barked in pain. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to start hitting you back instead of just avoiding you. Also, you’re the one who’s going to answer to Ev for all my bruises. I’m going to release you now…do not try to hit me again,” he warned as he released me before mumbling, “Hot-headed asshole.”

  “Unless you’re about to claim temporary insanity, save your breath. Nothing you say will convince me you didn’t choose the best course of action for you, not my girl.”

  “It was the best choice for everyone involved. If you manage to find any objectivity, you would see it was the only choice. After Jay died, she was pushing me daily for updates, begging me to let her help, offering to come back here and wear a wire…anything. I tried to dissuade her, to convince her we had everything under control. She wouldn’t listen. In her mind, it was her job to bring The Alpha down—her redemption.

  “When she threatened to return on her own without any support, I caved. There was no doubt in my mind that she would have followed through, Wes. We had been working another angle that didn’t involve your woman, but she would’ve blown the plan to hell if she’d waltzed back into the thick of things without our knowledge. I made the unbelievably tough call and brought her on board—if it were anyone else, you would have done the same.

  “For the record, the plan was to bring her back under controlled conditions in about two weeks. She jumped the gun after receiving the last email and took off without notice. She obviously left the email open to alert us of the change in plans—still, she was lucky the majority of the groundwork had been laid or it would have taken longer to mobilize.”

  “And if it were Ev…if our roles were reversed, would you have made the same decision?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t have had the presence of mind to see the forest through the trees. I would have fought it tooth and nail, and meanwhile, Ev would have charged in alone like freakin’ Joan of Arc, leaving me scrambling to clean up the mess,” he answered unequivocally. “You also would be in the back of an ambulance by now if the shoe were on the other foot.”

  “Exactly,” I returned, my anger still simmering, on the verge of boiling over.

  “Look, hate me when we get home if you need to—for now, you have to trust me. We have the same goal, and whether you believe it or not, the same priorities.”

  “Do you understand how this could set her back? What he will subject her to? She may not survive this time,” I said in desperation.

  “Or, this may be exactly what she needs to move on. There’s no way to know until the dust settles. Regardless, I wasn’t taking any chances. Thia will be here in the next two hours, ready for her after the extraction.”

  “Oh,” I replied, unable to find words of gratitude through my apprehension.

  “It will all work out—you’ll see,” Hunter calmly promised.

  “You’d better be right…for both our sakes.”

  "Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding." -Khalil Gibran

  Meg

  Time was a fickle crook, stealing seconds when you wanted to hoard them like treasure, then stuffing your pockets with the thieved hours when you wished you could give them away. There was no doubt returning to To Ieró was a gamble that could potentially cost me everything. At the moment, my sanity—possibly my life—seemed the most likely forfeits. My only remaining hope was that Hunter would gain the necessary proof to imprison The Alpha for the rest of his miserable life. If sacrificing myself would ensure no other women would suffer as I have and no other man would die as Jay did, the cost would be bearable.

  However, The Alpha’s attempts to bend me to his will were testing my ironclad determination to survive. My threshold for pain was exceptionally high given my upbringing, but time had increased his creativity and honed his skills for inflicting pain.

  He wasted no time upon my return, calling The Sacred to the meeting hall as he prepared for my purification ceremony. By the time they answered his demand, I stood—naked—in what amounted to a kiddie pool with my arms and legs knotted to a wooden frame that had been secured to the ground. Tied in the ‘X’ position, my body was completely exposed to the community, which was unpleasant but not a unique experience. What caused my heart to pound and palms to sweat was the unknown torture he planned to inflict.

  Ever eager to hear himself speak, The Alpha launched into a long-winded declamation outlining the importance of following his leadership for the spiritual fulfillment and prosperity of To Ieró. He effectively painted me as a threat to the eternal souls and livelihood of the community, adeptly justifying the need for the extreme measures being taken during my purification. Planting the seed of responsibility for any and all misfortune that befell the compound during my seven years of absence ensured none of The Sacred would stand against The Alpha’s inhumane treatment of me—after all, I was just The Omega, a container…a vessel, if you will.

  As I listened to his propaganda, it amazed me that I once found him persuasive and charismatic. While I’d continued to believe in The Alpha’s deity until I learned of his treachery seven years ago, I had lost faith in the dogma of To Ieró and my supposed position long before that. Jay revealed to me my own humanity and his stories opened my eyes to the falsehoods I’d been fed. The passage of time and experience provided additional clarity that allowed me to see The Alpha in his full-Technicolor evil glory.

  Drifting in a stream of consciousness, I lost track of his rhetoric until he finally turned to face me while the community chanted, ‘Purify her that Theós may thrive. Purify her that The Alpha to come may thrive. Purify her that To Ieró may thrive.’

  He raised a hand to silence The Sacred before speaking, “My spirit is heavy with the burden of responsibility as I, Theós incarnate, enact my will for the protection of To Ieró and the sanctity of The Omega. Yet, for you—my sacred chosen—I bring righteous fire to cleanse this vessel of its contamination so that Theós may come to be realized in my heir.”

  The Alpha approached me with a sinister smile meant only for my eyes. Once near, he leaned in to place a kiss on my crown as he whispered, “You can’t imagine how much I’m going to enjoy this. I’ve fantasized about the retribution I’m about to deliver for far longer than I’d expected.”

  I shuddered at his exultant pleasure in the suffering to come—my suffering.

  With great ceremony, he mixed the contents of two glass vials in a bowl. I stared at the vials he returned to the table, trying to read the labels—50% glycolic acid and 50% lactic acid. I recognized the chemical names from Sam’s girls’ night facials. Was he giving me a facial? I knew it was a ridiculous thought, nonetheless a giggle escaped.

  The Alpha’s head snapped up to catch me still gazing at the glass jars. The cunning smirk he returned communicated more than words ever could. Whatever his plans entailed, they would be slow and painful. He nodded to Malachi, who presented a small brush with an ornately carved handle.

  “Let the fire of Theós cleanse the stains upon this vessel. Let my anointing purify The Omega—the beginning and the end—restoring the sanctity that has been lost.”

  Laughter threatened at the first stroke of the brush. It tickled as he painted the clear solution across the skin of my chest, above my heart. I was tempted to make a snide remark about his skills in the art of torture slipping as the first tingles nipped at my skin. He continued to cover my chest and stomach as my skin began to sting painfully. As The Alpha coated my legs and arms, the burning sensation was enough to cause me to pant, searching for relief. By the time he had smeared the liquid fire over my back, tears threatened to fall. When he walked around to once again stand before me, raising the brush to my face, my composure showed the first signs of strain.

  “Please, no. Stop this—you don’t have to continue. I’ve learned my lesson, I promise,” I lied.

 
“Hmm—” he murmured as if seriously contemplating my request. “I don’t believe you.”

  Without further ado, he slowly spread the devil serum over my face and neck.

  It was impossible to know how much time passed—it felt like years. The pain escalated as he painted a second layer of chemicals across every inch of skin. My entire body trembled as the agonizing fire devoured my flesh like the demons of hell. Tears poured down my face in salty rivers, dripping onto my exposed breasts, highlighting my vulnerability.

  To my shame, I would have promised almost anything to bring an end to the scorching blaze. Blistering pain wiped my mind clean of all thoughts, and all that lived within me was brutal, unrelenting hurt.

  Without warning, ice cold water was dumped over my head, followed by bucket after bucket of the blessedly torturous liquid that squelched the fire before revitalizing the ache.

  “Oh god, let it end. I can’t…I can’t,” I begged senselessly to The Sacred observers. A few averted their eyes, but most watched unsympathetically.

  “Don’t worry, Omega, I am not an unsympathetic God. I will let you rest for a few hours before we begin again,” The Alpha announced viciously before exiting the meeting hall.

  Free from his watchful eye, I proceeded to welcome the darkness that threatened, eager for its peaceful oblivion.

  I came to slowly, pain radiating from every pore. Flexing my arms, I tested the bonds that confined me to the wooden frame—they offered no leeway. My joints ached from the excessive time spent in an unnatural position and my neck was stiff from hanging limply during my ‘nap.’ However, those aches were trivial when compared to the scorching burn of my skin.

  Afraid to look at the damage my body had incurred, I kept my eyes screwed tight while offering myself a pep talk. Courage in place, I opened my eyes and looked down.

  Holy fucking goddamn son-of-a-bitch!

  My skin was bright red—like the worst sunburn in the history of sunburns—with small yellowish patches that were beginning to ooze. I was hideous. Vanity was never my weakness and a few scars wouldn’t phase me, but the extremity of the damage was alarming, forcing me to acknowledge the possibility of permanent disfigurement if the cleansing was repeated.