Dying To Live

by Sam Carter

  He was being pulled into some world he had no desire to be in. And if he told anyone, his son would suffer. Suffer. Like your patients. All because he had replied to some stupid tweet about some stupid athlete. Such a simple, insignificant action had flipped his life upside down. Who was this stranger, this voice, and how did he know so much about him? He had to ask again, what in the world was going on?

  As he pondered this question so much his brain felt like it would explode, he thought that maybe his Twitter conversation with Samson really did play a role in his untimely death. Once again, what he learned in AA was dead on. There really were no such things as coincidences.

  Right as Harlan finished listening to the message for what felt like the five-hundredth time, his office phone rang and snapped him out of his trance. Time to get back to work, he guessed. But he wasn’t sure how that was even possible. He wasn’t sure there was any way he could give his patients the attention they needed now.

  Before he picked up the phone, he glanced at the caller ID to see the call was coming from Barry. Great. For the second time in just two days, the big boss of the hospital was looking for him. Now what had he done? What else could possibly be added to his already overflowing plate? Please let this be a call filled with praise.

  “Hey, Barry. How may I help you?” he said in his best ‘there is absolutely nothing wrong and I love my life’ voice.

  “Harlan. It’s Barry, um, but you already knew that ‘cause you, um, said my name. I’m sorry to interrupt what I’m sure has been a hectic day, but do you have a minute for me?”

  Harlan wanted to say, “No! I don’t have even a second for you! My patients are dying and I don’t know why! I’m being dragged into the reason a sports writer, who I’ve never met, was murdered! And now someone is leaving me messages threatening me and my family! So, sorry, I don’t have time for you or anyone!” Harlan knew it wouldn’t be fair to take his frustrations out on Barry, especially because Barry sounded so out of it. He sounded completely off his game. He sounded how Harlan felt. He was never this way. Barry was always so cool and calm under pressure, and it unnerved Harlan even more.

  Instead of unraveling, Harlan mustered every ounce of self-control in his body and responded, “Yeah, of course I do. What do you need?”

  “Great,” Barry replied with what sounded like ever-increasing trepidation in his voice. “Why don’t you come up to my office? The, um, police are here and they would like to speak to you right away.”

  Chapter 18

  The room was disheveled and dusty, Grimy was the best way to explain it. There was no way that it was Luke’s apartment. In fact, he had no idea where he was waking up or how in the world he got there. He wiped the sleep out of his obviously drugged eyes so that he could get a better look at his surroundings. He sat up and before even taking an inventory of the room, he was stunned by the fact that his arms and legs were not tied together.

  Whoever had taken him yesterday, and he was confident that he knew the idiots who were behind this, were at least smart enough to know that tying him down was of no use. He would get free, and they knew it.

  Luke scanned the room, hoping to get evidence and maybe some sort of weapon that would get him out of his current predicament. He saw that there was just one window and by the looks of the sliver of light coming through, it was most likely around 8:00 in the morning. Unbelievable.

  He had been here all night. He had missed his night in the bright lights of the sporting elite. His opportunity to shine was taken from him by someone’s shortsighted decision and attempt to send him a message. That someone, and all those involved, would pay a hefty price for their lapse in judgment. They had just added more fuel to his already white-hot fire.

  Why is it everyone he had ever met was an unconditional imbecile who couldn’t think their way out of a paper bag? Good thing the world had one intellectual being. To be perfectly honest, everyone should bow down in gratitude to Luke for saving them from their idiocy.

  Next, he noticed that the room was almost completely empty. He had slept the night on the floor, which would explain why his right shoulder was a bit stiff. Good thing he recovered quickly from that kind of stuff. There was no couch for him to move to, no flat-screen plasma TV mounted to the wall, or even a kitchen table. Whoever spent their time in this hole had no place to eat or enjoy anything at all. It did, however, have two chairs.

  The first chair was just a few feet behind Luke and it did not look like an inviting place for him to rest his behind. It resembled something you would see in an elementary school, bolted to a desk, but the wood was cracked with splinters shooting from every possible angle. Not exactly what he remembered from his school days.

  The second chair appeared more like a place that Luke deserved to sit down and rest. It was one of those incredible black reclining leather seats with all the massage options one could dream off. But it was obviously it wasn’t for him. It was obvious because staring back at him, sitting in the seat Luke wanted as his own, were the eyes of someone that was not there for small talk nor to be his friend. No, the eyes were that of a cold-blooded enforcer with nothing to lose and so much to gain. Luke knew those eyes all too well. He had worked with the man that they belonged to on many occasions in the past. Those eyes belonged to Kenji, or as most people knew him, The Master. Kenji—Luke had no desire to play into his head games and call him by some silly nickname—was the Matsui’s first line of both offense and defense.

  Generally, when most people sat across the room from The Master, their bodies filled with fear and their pants filled with their own waste. Luke was not most people. The only emotion that filled Luke’s entire frame was joy because he knew that he had the Matsuis right where he wanted them.

  “Sit down, Luke.” Kenji spoke first, trying to let Luke know that he was in charge of this situation. This was going to be more fun than Luke first thought. Overconfidence was always the best way to be the one to lose.

  “Where would you like me to sit, sir? On the floor? Or do I get the privilege of sitting in that comfortable wood chair behind me?” Luke wanted to come off as both a terrified child and a sarcastic jerk. He hoped this impression was coming across as he spoke to the “scary” Master.

  “Sit down now. And keep your trap shut until I tell you to open it again.” Luke was not surprised by Kenji’s attempt to intimidate, but he was astonished that he was dense enough to try this with Luke. Kenji had never struck him as an idiot. Yes, he was an enforcer for a crime family, but he was not like any other enforcer for any other family in the world.

  Typically when the Matsuis needed information from one of their targets, they sent two people to push the prey to the edge. One was the brains of the operation—the one who spoke, the one with the ability to extract the information by pushing every conceivable button using only words. The other was the brawn—the strength, the intimidating force in the room that, if the words didn’t work, if the person was thick enough not to give up what the Matsuis desired, he would make him. And it would be done by any means possible.

  Kenji, however, was a one-man show. When they needed anything big and needed it fast, he was sent in and no one accompanied him because he could do both tasks better than anyone. He was the best at his business of psychological and physical pain and suffering. And here he sat across from Luke thinking that he could outsmart him. It wouldn’t be too long until he knew that this would likely be his last opportunity to threaten and terrorize anyone again.

  Luke decided that his best course of action would be to play along with Kenji. Tone it down and take instructions. So he stood up and slowly moved over and took his seat. It turned out to be an even more painful place to sit than to admire. The splinters, though small, covered the entire area of the chair’s seat and they seemed to be glued to the legs and the handles. It didn’t matter which way he tried to sit, something was piercing his skin. This was a different kind of the Matsui’s torture chairs that Luke had never before seen. It was impress
ive, Luke thought, very impressive.

  “That’s better. Now slide your chair a bit closer to me.” Luke did as he was told, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this game. Get on with it Kenji, Luke thought. Let’s talk about why you have brought me to this party.

  “Sorry you had to miss your big moment last night,” Kenji said with a little smile coming from the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t sorry now, that was clear, but he would be sorry soon. “I know how much that meant to you. We were all ready for your big night in front of the whole world. I mean, you of all people deserve an ego boost to help you get over your low feelings of self-worth.”

  This was a different side of Kenji that Luke had never seen. He was always so serious, both while working and when he was off the clock. He must have something special in store for their time together. Something that was making him giddy just thinking about it.

  Since it appeared that Kenji was waiting for Luke to share his thoughts, he decided it must be time to open his trap. “It’s no big deal, mate. I’ll still get my day. I am sure that whatever brought me here in the middle of all this is for the greater good of the family. That is what matters most to me. I just—”

  “That sounds like you,” Kenji interrupted before Luke could go on. “Always putting everyone else’s concerns before your own. Lovable Luke, that’s what we all like to call you.”

  “I didn’t know you had a pet name for me. That’s cute. This whole time I thought we were just co-workers, but it turns out you have always thought of me as much, much more.”

  “You have always been my favorite, you should know that, but I was just waiting for the right time to confess that to you.” This was strange to hear, which was making Luke a little uncomfortable. What was going through the genius brute’s mind? What did he think he had on Luke that would get him to give them what they were after? And how long was he going to drag this out? He couldn’t imagine it would be that much longer. He was right.

  “Now, let’s cut all this lovey dovey crap and move to the heart of the matter.” It was business time for Kenji. He shifted in his chair, so that every part of his body seemed to be staring right at Luke. “You know why you’re here. You know why you and I are together in this decrepit apartment in the middle of Seattle.”

  “Of course I know.” Even though each movement he made in his chair caused more pain to pierce through his body, Luke moved so that he was facing his counterpart completely. But unlike Kenji, who sat up straight with both arms resting on his knees, Luke slouched over a bit and kept his right hand in his pocket. This seemed like an unorthodox and possibly even stupid way to prepare oneself for the chance on an attack, but Luke knew a few things that Kenji didn’t. And he decided to reveal one of those things to him right then.

  “But I also know that you have no authorization to seriously harm me in any way.” Luke knew Kenji was shocked because the usually unflappable demeanor on his calm face flinched for a split second. Not wanting to give up how much joy this brought Luke, he kept his smile on the inside as he continued to burst Kenji’s bubble. “You see, I know that your specific orders are to get what you need from me while threatening to break every bone in my body, or maybe feed me my own fingers—my personal favorite technique of yours, by the way. Always a crowd pleaser.”

  “What makes you think that would be true? What makes you think that I don’t get the satisfaction of being the one to finally cause you excruciating amounts of pain?”

  “Good question. I guess since you’re asking me questions that means you should start calling me The Master now. Sounds like a good plan, don’t you think?” The anger in Kenji’s face was beginning to show. It looked like every vein would soon burst wide open like a backed up, rusty old pipe. “Let me tell you why I know what you were certain I did not know. Ready? Good. I know you thought you had me fooled when you didn’t tie me up, because I know how you like to work. You feel it is some sort of dishonor to inflict pain on someone who’s tied up. You want to feel like you gave him a chance to get away or defend himself. I guess whatever helps you sleep at night, my pupil. Do I have this right so far, mate?”

  Kenji said nothing, but he didn’t need to. Luke was right. He was always right. “But even that wasn’t going to fool me, the new Master. Want to know why? Because you all need me too much. You need me to keep playing baseball to give you a way into furthering your empire in the US of A. Yes, the Matsuis are big shots in Japan, but you’re just small potatoes here. And I know nobody is happy with being a small fish in this massive pond. Without me you all will get chewed up and spit out by some family that’s larger and has more control here. You know it. The person who sent you here knows it. And I know it. You can’t touch me because I am the most vital person in the whole operation.”

  Luke decided now it was ok to show Kenji how much he was enjoying this, so he gave him his most toothy smile and let out one loud laugh.

  “You may be right, but you really have no idea what you are doing, do you? You have no idea that by not cooperating with the plans that were made when we first recruited you, you are going to hurt everything we have all worked for.”

  Luke laughed again, but not just one loud laugh this time. He let this one last a little longer. “Let me stop you right there before you make an absolute fool of yourself. The Matsuis recruited me? Is that the fairy tale they’ve told you? That’s rich, so very rich. Do you have a moment so you can learn something else from your Master? Why don’t you sit back, relax, maybe pop some popcorn? What I am about to tell you will be better than any movie you have ever seen in your life.”

  Just as Luke was about to go on, Kenji interjected. “How about instead of telling me some story that you think I don’t know, you start talking about what I need to know?”

  Kenji was now standing up, with his arms across his chest. The look in his eyes was no longer that of shock or anger, it was that of someone who was about to go to work and get his job done right the first time. “You are so incredibly full of yourself. You think you know every move. You think you are always one step ahead of every person in every room. That may be the case most of the time, Luke, but not this time. No, my friend, not this time at all.”

  Luke stayed motionless while listening to Kenji. He didn’t get up and try to match the intensity of his counterpart. No, he just sat there, not moving a muscle. Not even his eyes twitched. He didn’t want to miss a second of Kenji’s speech.

  “You should know how this works even though I am not allowed to harm one hair on your precious little body. You should know that I know something that will push you to the edge. That I know something that will make your skin crawl with fear. You should know that once I let you in on my little secret you will spill everything, and then you will be begging me to kill you so you don’t have to think about your pathetic life anymore.”

  Luke knew his methods, and he knew that whatever came out of Kenji’s mouth next wouldn’t be the emotionally damning words that would send Luke into some life-ending tailspin. He knew because nothing could do that to Luke. Nothing mattered to Luke at all. He was stunned, truly stunned, that Kenji and the rest of the Matsuis didn’t know that fact. It turned out he had overestimated all of them.

  “All right. Go ahead and tell me my deep dark secret. Spill your guts so that I can be so terrified I will finally want to spill mine,” Luke told him through his widening smile. He was interested in what horror they thought they had dug up.

  “I know what you did to your parents, and I know where to find them. And if you choose not to tell me every last bit of what I need to know, I won’t lay a finger on you. But I will lay all my fingers on them and, in the process, expose you to the entire world for what you are. The bright lights dim quickly once it turns out their hero has no regard for the lives of his family.” Kenji, still standing, thinking that he had landed the blow that would finally get to Luke, relaxed a bit. Not his finest decision.

  “Ouch. You’ve got me. Whatever shall I do?” L
uke grabbed at his heart with his left hand to demonstrate just how much this hurt. He was acting, obviously, but he was surprised that Kenji knew anything about his parents. This was an interesting development indeed.

  “But I have a few more secrets for you, too. You ready?”

  Before Kenji had time to react, Luke shot up from his chair and slammed his left hand into Kenji’s neck. Luke felt an explosion as Kenji’s voice box collapsed inside his throat, making it temporally impossible for him to make any sound, let alone call for help. Before Kenji hit the ground, Luke’s right hand burst out of his pocket and smashed into the middle of Kenji’s face, breaking his nose and spraying blood all over the room.

  As Kenji lay on the ground writhing in pain, Luke leaned in close. “Here is my second secret. You forgot to check the inner pocket of my pants, and by neglecting that, you left me with this.” Luke placed a razor thin and extraordinarily sharp blade, now covered in blood from Kenji’s nose, right in front of his blood-caked eye. This razor was always with Luke. He always had it hidden in case a situation like this one arose. Just another thing that the Matsuis had overlooked.

  “Look closely. Look really closely because I want you to see the tiny blade that was your demise, and here’s the thing,” Luke said as he got closer to Kenji’s face. “I am not done with you yet.”

  Luke flung Kenji onto his stomach, making sure that his face slammed into Luke’s chair on his way down. Then he pulled up the pant legs of Kenji’s high-priced suit pants and began to cut. Not his pants, his legs.

  “You see, I do know how this works,” Luke heartlessly explained as his blade ripped through Kenji’s Achilles tendon. Kenji was still unable to scream out in pain, allowing him to hear the loud pops of his tendons severing as Luke slashed through his legs.