Dry Run

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Dry Run Page 25

by Lolly Walter


  “It was Boggs, Ebony, Boggs and his wife.” Joe stroked Ebony’s bare foot as he spoke. He bowed his head and kissed her toes. “You have to take the baby and run. Get away from here so he doesn’t try to take her again. Zeke needs to pack while you finish nursing, and then you’ve got to go. Boggs probably already knows what happened.”

  Ebony swiveled her head in Joe’s direction. Her eyes flickered to Devin then back to Joe. “You keep him safe, you hear? Get out now, too, before Boggs comes and makes good on however he’s threatened you.”

  “I will. Love you. Thank you for not hating me.” Joe wiped a thumb under his eye. To Devin, he said, “I didn’t tell her anything, but she’s been my friend for a long time.”

  “You, little boy, are Joe’s entire universe.” Ebony focused on Devin, and he marveled at how sharp her voice sounded when she wanted people to do what she said. “Make him happy. Protect him.”

  Devin didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and patted Zeke’s hip. “Up, Zeke. You’ll be able to watch them later. First get out of here and be safe.”

  Zeke levered himself off the bed. Trig led him away, and together, they began to pack.

  Joe stood, so Devin did, too.

  “Boggs is going to be angry,” Joe said to the other runners. “His wife is dead. One of his guards is dead. Two of his runners have died. He’s lost Nina, and he’s about to lose more runners. Decide how best to keep yourselves safe. I think the runners on the other floors will be okay, but don’t assume you’re safe because you weren’t involved. Take care of each other.”

  “Thanks, Joe,” Marcus said. He held his brother’s hand. They’d never looked younger.

  Joe patted each of their shoulders and headed toward his and Devin’s room. Halfway there, he was stopped by Zeke, who bent and kissed his cheek. Zeke held out his hand for Devin, and when he took it, Zeke pulled him into a huge hug.

  “Stay safe, boys.”

  “Follow the highway as far north as you can,” Joe said. “Godspeed.”

  Devin took Joe’s elbow and steered him into their room.

  ***

  The V burned Joe’s skin. He’d have to make sure to apply some anti-infection spray. Devin’s thumb brushed over the cut, feeling it, testing it out. If they escaped, in the weeks and months to come, Joe could examine why he’d chosen to carve Victor’s memory into his skin. Not now, though. They needed to hurry.

  “Change your clothes,” he said. “Wear your least worn pair of jeans and pack your least worn pair of shorts. Same with your shirt. Least worn. Wear underwear, but don’t pack any. We need to save room for more important things.”

  Devin dumped his crate upside down and picked quickly through his belongings. Joe knelt next to his crate to do the same. He shed his clothes, thrilled to be separated from all the blood. His best jeans fit a little tight, but he might shrink into them while they traveled. He pulled out a pair of shorts and two pairs of socks, one to wear and one to pack.

  “Where are we putting our shit?”

  In answer, Joe flipped the mattress on its side against the wall.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “I’ve been planning this for a long time.” Joe smiled at the neat little piles of green money, the flattened backpack, the Insta-food bars, the first aid supplies, and the flat-fold silicone water jug. The leaving plan had been perfect, at least until Devin had come along.

  “And you never thought to tell me.”

  No, he hadn’t. But Devin needed to understand why. Wary of sticking around too long, Joe rushed to explain. “I stopped. All the years I’ve been with Flights of Fantasy, my plan was always to save up enough money and leave to find my dad. But when you came, papi, I stopped. I stopped wanting my dad, stopped hoarding away the old money and the food and the weapons. I knew I’d have to wait a few more years so I could save up enough money for both of us to go.”

  “You didn’t ask me if I wanted to leave.”

  Oh. The difference between planning their lives together and working together to plan their lives; Joe’s inability to share his thoughts and experiences; it was all right there under their bed. He had the best of intentions and still managed to mess it all up. Bea was right. He was arrogant. Devin was right. He was selfish. He needed to make sure Devin knew he intended to do better from now on. Joe shuffled to Devin’s side and laid his head on his partner’s hip.

  “Do you want to go north with me?”

  Devin sighed and rested his hand on Joe’s head. “I want to be with you. North sounds a fuckton better than down here.”

  “I needed to save more money, the real kind, not this old green stuff. I have enough of that to trade our way to the civilized parts of America, but once we’re there—”

  “I have money, douchebag.” The hand in Joe’s hair tightened. “All you had to do was tell me your plans, or hell, make plans with me. I have so much more money than you it’s not even funny. Is that what you’ve been waiting on?”

  Joe closed his eyes and banged his forehead against Devin’s hip. Of course Devin had money. He was white. He’d come from the hills. Naive little Efraín. God, Joe should have realized. “We could have left ages ago. I could have saved you so much pain if only I wasn’t an ass. I’m so sorry. We have to leave, now.”

  “You did the best you could. Now you’ll do even better.” Devin tugged on Joe’s hair until his head tilted back and they could look in each other’s eyes. The corner of Devin’s mouth quirked up. “It’s incredibly bad timing that seeing you on your knees in front of me turns me on, huh?”

  Joe sniffled a laugh and laid a whisper-kiss on Devin’s dick through his jeans. Devin’s gentle exhale settled Joe’s nerves.

  “Let’s finish packing our shit and get out of here. I can be a horny ass later.”

  More satisfied than he deserved to be, Joe grabbed the backpack and stuffed the money into the bottom. He threw their clothes in next and piled the Insta-food and water jug on top. They could use the front pocket for any extra weapons and the side pockets for their medical supplies. He’d reached for the anti-infection spray when someone knocked at the door.

  Had they taken too long? They were moving quickly. Joe glanced at his timepiece. 7:45. Sam was probably supposed to be at his post by 7:30, which meant the other guards were probably taking over at 7:00. Forty-five minutes. Boggs could have gotten word and sent someone over in forty-five minutes. The night had been so long. Joe took a deep breath, hid the backpack behind a crate, stood and kissed Devin’s cheek, then slipped the Bowie knife from its sheath on Devin’s thigh. He motioned for Devin to stand back, then held the knife ready and opened the door.

  It was Boggs, but no guards joined him. Sheer confusion on Joe’s part allowed Boggs to push past him into the room. He was followed by a boy.

  Disgust welled from every shadowy place in Joe’s soul. The boy was maybe fifteen, willowy and handsome, with curly brown hair and bright grass-green eyes puffed up from crying. His jaw was sharp, his lips full and pouty. His hands were bound. He trembled violently.

  “Put that nonsense away, Joseph. We’ve business to discuss.” Boggs slapped at Joe’s hand, and Joe let his arm fall limp at his side. “You defied me, and for that, I told you I would fuck up Devin so badly he’d haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life.”

  Joe moved in front of Devin and was roughly pushed aside.

  “Not helpless,” Devin said. “He can’t do shit to me. I would break his scrawny ass in half.”

  Boggs laughed, amused and unaffected. He tilted his head. “Point acknowledged, Devin. However, I’ve developed a new strategy. You see, I made plans to sell a baby. That fell through. But, and here’s where it gets fun.” He winked and patted the green-eyed boy’s cheek the way Sam had always patted Joe’s. The boy cowered. “Sell a baby, buy a child. This is Peter. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

  “Where did he come from?” Joe asked.

  “Columbus,” Peter said. The word came out shrill and nasally.

  �
��It doesn’t matter.” Boggs stepped away from the boy and knocked Joe’s mattress back onto the floor. “There’s a black market for everything. Peter’s parents didn’t like to lock their windows at night.” His voice turned mocking. “The big scary men broke into Peter’s house and killed his parents, then took sweet little Petey off to auction. Dug out his citizenship chip and everything.”

  “This is sick,” Devin said. “You’re an evil man.”

  “I’m a money man, dear Devin.” Boggs moved to the window and wiped his finger along the grimy pane. “If you have enough of it, you can take whatever you want. I wanted Peter. I got him. Guess where he fits.”

  “No.” Joe wasn’t sure he said it loud enough.

  “I’ve decided to make a special A++ team. Two beautiful white boys. Imagine how much money I’ll make. They’ll have to do dirty, degrading, filthy things, and I will enjoy every moment. And you, Joesy…” Boggs tried to move in on Joe, but Joe recoiled and brandished the knife. Undeterred, Boggs said, “You will watch all of it, darling, every revolting second. My wife was murdered overnight, as you know. Dreadful woman. Glad she’s gone. But that frees me to take a permanent plaything, one strong enough to withstand, ah, how should I say it? Carnal perversion.”

  Joe balled his hands into fists. “You’re going to make me your sex slave and force Devin and this little boy to do disgusting things?”

  “Always smart.” Boggs shook his head like he was a proud teacher whose pupil had solved a complicated problem. “So smart. Now, my surviving guards are on the way — don’t expect Sam; he won’t be joining us anymore — and they will make you do the things I cannot. As I was saying—”

  Whatever Boggs planned to say would remain a mystery. That hot, lashing whip of energy that had killed Victor and Oliver slapped through the air, and Boggs convulsed. His pink tongue lolled out of his mouth as his eyes widened and his muscles spasmed. The smell of feces permeated the tiny room.

  The hold of the lash broke, slipped away, and Boggs fell twitching to the ground.

  Joe jumped away from the body. “How?”

  Devin’s eyes glittered, hard and fierce. “Now both our hands are dirty.”

  “But…”

  “I used Sam’s gun thingy.” Devin held the weapon flat in the palm of his hand the same way Joe had offered him the knife the night before. Joe didn’t touch it, hated that Devin had been forced to use it. “It’s set to stun. There’s a screen that gives you options. Pain, stun, kill. I was messing with it when you were talking to Bea.”

  “But…”

  “We have to leave now, Joe. Focus on that.”

  Joe nodded. He fished out their backpack and worked around Boggs to shove the medical supplies into it.

  The zipping of the backpack seemed to awaken Peter from a daze. “Who are you? What’s going on? Who was he?” The boy was smaller than Joe, maybe even smaller than Flix and Marcus.

  “Look, Peter—” Joe reached out a hand, and Peter backed against the wall.

  “Don’t touch me. You’re… brown. And a homosexual. My parents would be horrified.”

  Devin brushed past Joe and grabbed the boy’s arm. “Gimme the knife, Joe.”

  Joe withdrew his father’s pocketknife and handed it over.

  “Hold still.” Devin cut the ties restricting Peter’s movement. “Now listen up, kid. That man on the floor is a pimp. Do you know what that is?”

  Peter nodded. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

  “Okay then. There’s a whole mess of people out in this building and in this city and none of them, and I mean none, look like you. So you need to stop acting like my partner’s skin is diseased, because if you do that around the others, none of those good people out there are gonna help you. And you are going to need help.” Devin dropped Peter’s arm and stepped away. He banged into Joe’s shoulder as he passed. “Let’s go, Joe.” Devin strode from the room.

  Joe stared after Devin. “Wow.” Nothing more intelligent sprang to mind. He beckoned to Peter, and they followed Devin out into the main dorm.

  The questions were instantaneous.

  “What happened to Boggs?” Flix asked.

  “Who’s the gringo?” from Dottie.

  “What was that noise?” Roxy asked.

  “Boggs got hit with some sort of stunning device. Who knows how long it’ll last.” Joe had to move this along before the other guards got there. “This is Peter. He was stolen from his family, and anyone who stays needs to help him however they can. Devin and I are leaving—”

  Shouts of protest.

  Joe raised his hands to quiet them. “We’re leaving. You can come with us, but I only have enough provisions for me and him. You’d have to make your own way. We can’t wait, so decide in the next five seconds. Who’s going?”

  The runners remained silent. Some, like Marcus, looked shell-shocked. Trig, Roxy, and Flix nodded, their lips thin, their faces set. No one stepped forward.

  “You’ve been a wonderful family.” Oh, this was hard. “Take care of each other. Stay strong.”

  Joe waved. They had no time for hugs.

  Devin linked their fingers together, and they turned and walked out the door.

  They’d made it to the elevator and pressed the button when the dorm door opened and Peter came charging out, his eyes wild but no longer leaking tears.

  “Take me with you.”

  Joe’s gut clenched. He and Devin looked at each other. No way could they take this kid. When Joe had talked about people coming, he hadn’t meant the new guy. Peter wouldn’t be able to keep up. He wouldn’t survive. The elevator dinged, and the door opened. Devin gently pushed Peter back toward the dorm.

  Joe shook his head. “Make yourself strong, Peter. Survive. When you’re ready physically and mentally, run as far away as you can.”

  He and Devin got on the elevator and watched Peter burst into tears as the doors slid closed.

  Devin pressed the button for the first floor. The elevator began its descent. “I’m not sure we did the right thing.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “He’s gonna get hurt so bad.”

  “I know. But we survived. He will, too, I hope.”

  “I feel like as much of a pimp as Boggs.”

  Joe laid his head on Devin’s shoulder. “Do you want to go back up and get him?”

  “Yes, but we can’t.”

  Joe didn’t try to answer. He kept his head on Devin’s shoulder until they passed the second floor. Once the first floor was seconds away, he dug out Victor’s switchblade and Devin readied the weapon Sam had given him. Joe had managed to go less than an hour without wielding something capable of inflicting injury.

  The doors opened, and no guards waited in the hall, only Ángel, the req desk clerk.

  “Zeke and Ebony asked us to help you,” Ángel said. “Marlette’s keeping Boggs’s men busy. Get out the north side door now. Good luck.” He handed Devin a stuffed backpack and disappeared down the hall.

  They rushed through the building. A series of turns, and they reached the door. Joe thrust it open and ventured into the brilliant morning.

  ***

  They ran several blocks east before heading north. Joe wanted to avoid the apartment complex where they’d spent the previous night. The place could be swarming with Boggs’s people, but it also held Victor’s body. Joe didn’t need to picture Victor dead, couldn’t grieve, at least until they were far enough away for the pain not to cut so deep.

  He’d never lived anywhere but Austin. In all his nineteen years, he’d never left Texas. With each step, the bonds of his existence stretched, came nearer to breaking. They were leaving, and Joe could make himself over, be someone who was neither Efraín nor Joe, because neither of those versions of himself had ever truly been free.

  And Joe had to be free. He’d tried and tried to help others, protect others, fix others. Maybe the people he was trying to help and protect and fix would’ve been better off if he’d let them
stand on their own. Let his father go. Tell Bea the truth. Trust Devin. He’d tried to orchestrate everything, and it hadn’t done anyone any good. Now all those people had fallen away, and Joe had no excuses. The person he had to fix was himself.

  Well, all the people had fallen away except one.

  Joe glanced to his left, where his shadow covered Devin from the shoulders down. Devin’s face, though, it was glorious in the sunshine. Blue eyes, strong cheekbones and jaw, pink lips, hair golden in the morning light. Joe loved him. Would fight for him and die for him and make himself a better man for him. The urge to protect Devin was still there. It probably always would be, especially now that the unknown, and the fear of the unknown, was the entirety of their world. But Joe could temper it. He could learn trust and respect, and maybe that would be enough for Devin to trust and respect him again, too.

  He wasn’t planning on letting the man down.

  When they reached 14th Street, he nudged Devin. “I think this is far enough. What do you think?”

  Devin turned in the direction of the highway. A cemetery sat a few blocks ahead, and it had kept this neighborhood from being overrun by the luxury apartments and condo buildings that had destroyed many Austin neighborhoods. Joe had always liked the area’s mix of tiny bungalows and larger, more modern homes. It was as good a place as any to begin their journey.

  They’d walked about a block when Devin said, “You don’t have to ask my opinion on small details. I don’t hate that you lead or I follow. I hate that you hid the big stuff from me.”

  Joe watched their shadows stretching long and narrow ahead of them. Devin’s was so much bigger. “I messed up with you. And I’m committed to doing better. It’s just…” Joe stopped himself. Devin didn’t need excuses.

  “Just what?”

  Joe was tempted to tell Devin never mind, but he wanted to prove he wasn’t censoring what Devin heard. “It’s not an excuse, this thing I want to say, and it doesn’t change that I’m accountable for having kept things from you. It’s just, you are the most precious, most important, person I’ve ever had. If you got hurt, I’m not sure I could live with myself. I forgot that physical pain wasn’t the only way you could be hurt.”

 

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