Loreena's Gift

by Colleen M. Story

  “Well now, Miss Picket.” He leaned in, as if taking her into his confidence. “Charlie’s in the room at the end of the hall, negotiating with your brother. Saul got the man here on time, and he’s convinced him there’s a deal going down. Charlie thinks he’s got an eager buyer on his hands, which is me, but he doesn’t know it’s me. Hasn’t seen me, isn’t going to.”

  Loreena’s palms were sweating inside her gloves. How was she going to make this work?

  “Here’s your job,” he continued. “Saul told Charlie the buyer’s girlfriend wants to talk to him, check out the goods. He doesn’t like it. I think he’s a chauvinist, myself. But there’s no deal without it, so he doesn’t have much choice. All you gotta do is go in there like you’re going to test the product, sit down, and just talk. I’ll get your brother out of there so you two are alone. Once you’re ready, off you go.”

  Test the product? Loreena hoped she wouldn’t really have to take any drugs.

  “Wait, Frank.” Another whispered voice from deeper in the hallway. Shawn. “You sure you want to leave her in there alone with him?”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “He makes a move, there could be a struggle. Charlie’s a big man.”

  “Her hands will be uncovered.”

  “She has to touch his hand. Hard to do if he’s got it around her neck.”

  Loreena swallowed and brought her gloved fingers to her throat.

  “What do you suggest?” Frank asked.

  “I’ll stay. Just in case.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’ll be the buyer.”

  Loreena’s heart beat faster. Was he going to help her? Or was he just going to make sure she killed the man?

  “Getting restless out there, boss,” Bert murmured. “Bikes moving. They had to see us coming.”

  “Fine.” Frank placed his hand on the small of her back. “Go, then. Now. Quickly. You boys keep an eye out.”

  Bert and Digger fanned out on either side of the door. Shawn stepped forward and offered Loreena his arm. “I’ve never taken drugs,” she said.

  Frank patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t need to, darlin’. Just talk. That’s all. Pretend. You’re a Grizzly Rider now. Act like it.”

  Loreena reached for Shawn’s arm and touched thick cotton, a long-sleeved snap-down shirt. They started walking.

  “All right?” he whispered.

  She touched the wall on her left. Pretend. Pretend what, to be a drug addict? She had no idea where to even start.

  “Your brother’s here,” Shawn said. “He’s not expecting you. You have to ignore him. Otherwise, the deal’s blown. Go along and you’ll be fine.”

  “And if I don’t?” she whispered.

  Shawn paused, a slight hesitation in his step. “If this deal doesn’t go down, your brother won’t leave here alive.”

  Loreena brought her gloved hands up to her ribs.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “I don’t want to kill anymore.”

  “You fail, he’ll punish you, and that means your brother.”

  Loreena slowed.

  “Do you understand? You’re too valuable to him now. He won’t kill you. But your brother is expendable.”

  This wasn’t going the way she had planned. She had to think of something else, fast.

  “This isn’t the time, Loreena. Use this as a stepping stone, a way to give Saul a leg up, get Frank to trust him.” He lowered his voice even more. “Get him to let his guard down.”

  “Don’t make me kill again.” She looked his direction. “I’m having nightmares.”

  “This guy is a slime ball. The worst kind.”

  “I don’t want to kill him.” Loreena’s voice wavered. “You don’t understand.”

  He pulled her along beside him. “Take the guy’s hand and get this over with. It’s the only option right now.” He stopped, lifted her hands, and unlocked the handcuffs. Wriggling her wrists, she rubbed one and then the other, getting the blood flowing again.

  Shawn waited. “Gloves,” he said.

  She didn’t want to remove them.

  “Loreena!” he hissed. When she still didn’t obey, he reached out and took them off her, pulling three fingers and then the rest. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Walking with him, her mind raced. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t know what it was like to go with these people to another world where nightmares came to life. He didn’t know what it was like to have them come back in the middle of the night, asking to be set free.

  “’Bout time.”

  The thick scent of griddle grease reached her nose. Raymond guarded the door.

  “We’re going in,” Shawn said.

  “What’s up with her?” Even Ray’s whispering voice sounded broken and rough.

  “A little nervous.”

  “Get un-nervous,” Ray hissed. “This is a big catch. Second-in-command of the White Moose. We’re moving up, ain’t we?”

  “Go take a break, Ray. Watch the door. The moose are getting curious out there.”

  Loreena could feel the burly man glaring at her.

  “Ray?” Shawn said.

  The big man grunted and walked away, down to the far end of the hall. Loreena gazed after him. That door was her way out. She had only to get Saul, turn right, and run for all she was worth. Surely they could get to his bike before Frank’s men caught up to them.

  Shawn guided her inside a new room. Loreena could feel her brother’s presence instantly. He smelled like cigarettes, and sat with his back to her, on the near side of a table. The chair legs scraped against the floor as he turned to look at them. Loreena heard the slight intake of his breath. Saul! It was all she could do not to rush forward and take his arm.

  “Dog, my name is Shawn, and this is Loreena. Saul, give us a moment.”

  Saul stood up. He paused—watching her? Loreena held her breath. She wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind, nothing that wouldn’t blow it for both of them.

  “Right,” Saul said. He walked past, bumped her shoulder, and for a fleeting instant, squeezed her wrist with his fingers. She turned and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything he had vanished, the door closed behind him.

  Shawn took her arm and led her forward. “Have a seat,” he said. “Let’s get to know each other.”

  The warmth of Saul’s body remained on the chair cushion. Loreena sat, her mind scrambling. How was she to get out now?

  “What the hell?” Charlie demanded. “You’re here, let’s talk business.”

  Her head jerked toward him. His voice boomed. It was as if she had sat down across from a bear. She pushed back in her chair, trying to resist the powerful instinct to flee.

  “She’s the expert,” Shawn said from behind her. “Quality assurance, you might say.”

  Charlie dropped his arm on the table. It sounded like he’d dropped a leg of beef. “Right, and I’m Albert fucking Einstein.”

  “You got a problem with it?” Shawn said.

  Charlie’s clothing exuded a mixed scent of tobacco and engine oil. He’d been drinking too, the sharpness of alcohol rising above the rest. Loreena leaned away from him, wishing she could inch her chair down the table.

  “She’s just gonna just stare at me?” he bellowed.

  Loreena flinched. “Where’d you get this…supply, Mr. Barkan?”

  “It’s ‘Dog’ to you. I ain’t no Mr. Barkan.”

  “Dog, then,” she said. “Where?”

  He leaned forward, his weight creaking the table. “You questioning my word here? I told your guy already, for Chrissake.”

  Loreena stood up from her chair. Never before had she felt such a powerful urge to get away from someone, but this man seemed to emanate anger from his every pore. Any minute now he would put that emotion into his fists, she was sure of it.

  Shawn took her arm. “You don’t answer her questions, deal’s off.”

  A shot of hope seare
d through her limbs. She stepped ahead of him, hurrying toward the door. The hinges squeaked as she opened it, but then Charlie spoke.

  “Hang on.”

  Shawn halted. Loreena pulled against him, but he had a firm grip on her arm.

  “You want a sample?” Charlie asked. “That it?”

  Loreena shook her head. Please, don’t take me back. She tried to step through the doorway, but Shawn dragged her to the table. Loreena refused to sit down, keeping as much space between her and Charlie as she could manage. Desperate for water, she wondered where Saul was now, if he were still outside the door. She prayed he hadn’t left, hadn’t already taken the bike and ridden away down the road. Her palms were sweating profusely. It would be tough holding onto anyone’s hand even if she wanted to.

  Shawn nudged her from behind.

  “Um, yeah. A sample.”

  “Ah, fuck.” Charlie sat back in his chair, the joints squeaking. “Where’d I land, the circus? What the hell is this?”

  “You got a sample or not?” Shawn said.

  “This ain’t your bitch. She don’t know product from hairspray. This is some little girl you picked up on the way.” Charlie stood up. “You think I don’t know what’s going on?”

  “You want to deal or not?” Shawn said.

  Charlie hesitated, and then leaned forward and bellowed into her face. “You don’t know shit, do you, little girl?”

  Loreena shrank back. Charlie matched her move, tossing his chair behind him. It slid across the floor and rammed into the opposite wall. Loreena searched for the door, but he closed the distance between them in two long strides, heavy boots thundering his approach.

  “That’s enough.” Shawn put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie turned like a hard wind and bashed Shawn’s face with the back of his fist. Shawn toppled over, smacked his head on the table, and dropped to the floor with a thud.

  Shaking, Loreena found the doorknob and turned—

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Charlie grabbed her by the shoulders, hauled her away from the door and pinned her against the wall.

  “Shawn!”

  He covered her mouth with his giant left palm. Loreena screamed Saul’s name, but it came out as a high-pitched whimper.

  “No no no,” Charlie whispered in her ear, alcohol breath staining her skin. “You’re going to tell me who you really are and why you’re in here playing games.”

  She shook her head and tried to speak, but it was useless through his hand.

  “You here because of Frank? That what this is about?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Liar!” Holding her head against the wall, his body trapping her, he used his other hand to loosen his belt. “Frank’s behind this. Thinks he can pull one over on Charlie. You’re helping him, aren’t you?”

  Loreena squirmed, tears wetting her eyes. Her right arm was useless, pinned back by his shoulder. She could only reach his waist. Her left arm had more motion, especially now that he was busy with his pants, but she couldn’t get hold of his hand, and her attempts to hit him and push him away had no more effect than if she were a fly struggling against a moose.

  “So what’s he really after, hmm? Why’d he want me here for this phony deal? You gonna tell me? ’Cause that’s what I’m here to find out, and I’m thinking you’re the perfect squealer.”

  His zipper came down, pants falling lower on his hips. She heard the belt buckle clatter as he fiddled with his enlarged member, wriggling against her like an eager dog. She screamed again, a muffled sound through the flesh of his palm, and shook her body, every muscle straining against him. When that didn’t work, she tried lifting her knee. It stopped at his thigh well short of her target, and he used the opportunity to move in closer. Finding his hold unbreakable, she tried to sink down underneath his arms, but he slammed her head back against the wall.

  “Frank’s not the only one who can send messages. You’ll tell him this one, won’t you, sweetheart?” He chuckled.

  The back of her head throbbed while he reached down and grabbed her pants. They fell around her knees and she felt the roughened skin of his right palm touch her thigh. She screamed again but it hardly registered through his thick, sweaty flesh. It was getting harder to breathe, his fingers tightening over her face as he grew more excited, the right hand yanking at her underwear now, trying to get it down while he maneuvered himself in under her shirt. When she felt his skin against hers, she renewed her struggle, flailing with her left hand and punching his abdomen with her right, but it was as if she were pounding a bull.

  The underwear was down around her knees. He pushed hard against her, trying to find that place, jabbing himself at her. Her head spun in dizzy circles, her chest fighting for air, spine scraping against the wall as she tried to get away from him. He slammed her head back, pressed into her waist with his hip, and in the next moment, entered her.

  Lights flooded her mind, black and purple and a sickly green, shooting out like fireworks edged in the white of pain. Her body stiffened as the sensation penetrated every part of her being, the thing now inside her, an oozing wetness draining from her, and all the while the blackness was coming, her chest burning without breath, her voice unable to speak, his palm pressed against her hip where she could never get to it, defenseless, helpless, as he started to move. In a last-ditch effort she tried to get at his face, to poke at his eye or pull on his ear, but he grabbed her left wrist, throwing it back against the wall. He had her with both hands now, his left over her mouth, his waist doing the rest. He went deeper, and then his fingers opened just a little over her lips.

  Feeling the first finger against her chin, Loreena opened her mouth, took it in, and bit down as hard as she could.

  He howled like a wounded animal and jerked away. Loreena tasted blood and dirty skin. In his pain he withdrew everything but his right hand. Feeling the departure with a desperate relief, she struggled to break free of what remained of his grip.

  “You little bitch!” He released her wrist and raised his hand high. She ducked, twisted, and took hold of his left, the one with the wounded finger. The force of his blow came down on her back. It hurt, but she didn’t let go. He tried to get away from her, but she went with him, clinging like a new appendage, and seconds later, he swooned and fell backward, his weight pushing the table across the room before he collapsed underneath it, tripping over Shawn’s boots to land in a heap beyond him.

  ________

  Charlie’s tunnel was black, the current swift as mountain river rapids. Loreena saw the dim shadow of his profile on her left, an egg-shaped skull with large, protruding ears. A surge of rage moved inside her and she kicked and swam, pulling him even faster toward whatever lay ahead, hoping it was the worst of horrors. She didn’t care what it was—only that it be suitably dark and painful and terrible, the manifestation of every one of his deplorable nightmares, and that he might never in a million years escape it.

  They landed together in what seemed to be a pool. Loreena felt the warm liquid seep through her clothes. Swimming, she pushed up until they broke the surface. It took a few minutes to catch her breath, her arms and legs moving to keep her afloat. Charlie’s face glowed with a reddish tint, as if he’d been sunburned. His head was bald, eyes small and pale blue, mouth short and puckered. The collar of his leather jacket stood up into his fleshy neck, silver snaps knocking into one another. He looked around, brown eyebrows raised, fat tongue hanging on his lower lip.

  Loreena wrenched her hand away from his and started swimming to shore. She could see land behind them, marked with a single bonsai tree that stood alone on the scorched earth.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She splashed the liquid back in his face. It dripped like syrup down his cheeks. “This is your Hell!”

  Kicking hard, she pushed away. The pool didn’t feel like water. As her vision cleared, she noticed it was dark red, the color of blood, and the sky, too, glowed scarlet as if reflecting a wildfire. Up a
head, something bobbed in the waves. She tried to swim around it but it kept moving toward her. As she drew closer, terror seized her body. The figure was female, blond hair slicked behind her ears, eyes closed, bleeding lips slightly parted, bare breasts floating above the surface of the pool. Loreena’s eyes widened and she pushed all her energy into her hands and feet, struggling to move through the liquid, which seemed to be growing heavier with every stroke.

  “Wait!” Charlie called behind her. “I can’t swim!” He was trying to follow her, thrashing uselessly like a crab in a net. All around him, more female figures rose to the surface, blonde, brunette, black, brown, or redheaded, all dead, all naked, popping up like an epidemic of poisoned fish to surround him in limp arms and legs and necks and waists. Loreena treaded water, unable to turn away as the first one bumped into Charlie.

  He screamed again, only to collide with another body on his right and then another behind him. More popped to the surface buttocks first, until it seemed he was surrounded by every part of a woman’s body, the various shades of skin in sharp contrast to the blood red of the ever-thickening pool. He turned and turned, his screams growing frantic, thick hands trying to push the bodies away, but with every floating figure he managed to send another direction, a new one would rise, until he was drawing his knees up into his chest to avoid the dead woman by his toes.

  Loreena felt no pity for his suffering, and for a while the sight was a soothing salve over her own wounds. She pedaled her legs to stay afloat, the liquid so thick she barely had to expend any effort, and looked on while the monstrous man became a shriveling mass of desperate screams, his face stretching grotesquely, eyes popping from his head as each new female body brushed against his skin. Soon he was covered in the red liquid. To Loreena he looked like he was bleeding from every pore, as if his body were erupting from the inside out.

  The sight gradually began to sicken her, so she turned and tried again to swim. The pool had taken on the thickness of gravy. She continued to struggle, but long before she had reached the shore she began to tire. Her body hurt, blood draining down the inside of her legs, her back aching where Charlie had hit her. Fighting against the weariness, she swam on. She had to reach the shore, or she, like Charlie, would be stuck here forever.