by Anne Malcom
There was no evidence to tie him to a crime. As messy and gross as The Things had been, Orion had learned how organized their operation was. Years of it, she’d seen. This was not just girls being snatched and taken by two drug addicted hillbillies. Each of the men who did things to them had money.
Orion had recognized it, her trailer park upbringing making it possible for her to spot the money on people. Like she had noted the small gesture on Mary Lou that first day.
Jaclyn stared at her, really looking this time. “You aren’t kidding.”
Orion shook her head.
Jaclyn stepped back, snatched a soda, and jumped onto the bed, picking up a remote to flip through the channels. “Go on ahead. But I won’t be following you back into a cell. No fucking way.”
Orion watched the way she jerked the remote, the way her hand shook just a little. For all the big game she talked, for all her cursing, her tough exterior, she was really still that little girl they had snatched off the street.
They all were.
Orion didn’t resent her for not wanting the same things. For not wanting blood. She understood it. If she knew of a way to ignore this need, to turn away from her past and figure out a future, of course she’d take it.
But she didn’t. There was no way around this. The Cell molded each of them into something different. Maybe chipping away at their childhood until their ugly core was revealed. Maybe creating demons that never would’ve existed if things had been different. But things weren’t different. And a monster lived inside Orion now. She could feel it, and it was hungry.
Shelby was a broken, weak, and fragile little person who got everything she wanted growing up and, thusly, didn’t understand basic social cues. She had the lowest percent at surviving this world.
Jaclyn was a foul-mouthed, aggressive, and harsh woman who would pretend she was anything but weak. She might very well survive this world. If her façade held up.
And Orion. What was she? Who was she? She hadn’t gone so far as to think about that in-depth just yet. She knew she wouldn’t like what she found. Though she knew one thing. She was not a person who could forget about Dr. Bob Collins and what he’d done to her. And when she said it to them that night, admitted her wish to kill him, her plans for retribution, she only half believed it herself. At that time, she didn’t know just how persistent this desire would become, how frequently his face would haunt her dreams, how possessive the need for revenge would become.
Five
It was a full moon. That must’ve meant something.
Orion hadn’t had enough time to read about it all when she was younger. To lose herself in the minds of those who believed the moon had meaning. But she’d watched enough horror movies about werewolves, vampires, wendigos. She knew that the moon brought out the monsters. Monsters like her.
She would come to appreciate sitting outside in silence and looking up at the beautiful sight of it, the craters reminiscent of her own scars and impressions. Thinking about awful things. Awful things to most, but music to her ears. She felt at one with the night, with the darkness. In the daylight, she felt exposed. And with daylight came people, and with people came that unnerving feeling of being completely out of control, suffocating in your own skin.
She had been staring at the moon from the hotel window for a while that night, feeling a connection to it for the first time.
“You weren’t serious before, were you, Orion?” Shelby asked, and it broke Orion from her trance. She had no clue how long she was sitting there, staring, daydreaming. Night dreaming.
The television had been the only sound in the room for a long while. Jaclyn couldn’t settle on a show for longer than a couple of minutes before muttering obscenities about reality shows and the world going to hell, while also proclaiming how incredible it was to have more than ten channels to choose from. She flicked past news channels in a second. None of them needed to see that. Not yet. They were the belle of the ball on every news station in the Midwest. They had seen a mess of reporters out in front of the hospital, waiting, as they made their getaway in the van. For Orion, the thought of being even remotely in the public eye made her physically ill.
Orion focused on Shelby, curled up against the headboard of the bed, her long sweatshirt draped over her knees. She was so small, everything about her. And so beautiful. Orion wanted to comfort her, to tell her no, that it was only the trauma talking. That she could never bring herself to do such a thing. But comforting someone with a lie was nothing but shooting someone when they were on morphine. They wouldn’t feel it straight away, they’d be comfortable for a time. But the damage would show eventually.
“When you stabbed Thing Two, when you saw him bleeding on the fucking ground, tell me you didn’t feel what I felt, tell me you didn’t like it, just a little even, being able to punish him for what he did to us. Tell me the power didn’t mean something to you. Tell me you wouldn’t do it to Thing One if you could? To Dr. Bob? To every motherfucker who used us,” Orion said, tears welling in her eyes. She hid her face, tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. She took a deep, steadying breath.
Shelby bit her lip. “Yeah, I guess I get that feeling. I just, I don’t understand why you’d risk going to prison.”
The drone of the TV was silenced by Jaclyn hitting mute and turning to face Orion.
“That’s what I’m saying! I feel you, girl, I do,” she said. “Something about that revenge, that justice, it was sweet and it was good, and it did feel powerful. It felt right. But that was self-defense, okay? That was warranted. This . . .” She waved her hand at Orion. “What you’re talking about? It’s something else entirely. Vigilante shit. It’s premeditated. It comes with too many fucking cons. It’s not fucking worth it, Orion.”
Orion folded her arms across her chest, ready to square off. It was not the first time the two of them had argued, nor would it be the last. In a way, Orion appreciated Jaclyn for this, for keeping her on her toes. For playing devil’s advocate. For being a thorn in her side.
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have done it to the doctor, while he was raping you, one of the many times, if you had had the chance?” She flung the words like the weapons they were. And she knew she was right. But she knew they were right too. To be thrown into a jail cell, after everything they had been through, could not be an option. And, in reality, it never was. She knew from that night, from the moment she first considered killing him, that she would rather die than spend another night in a cell.
Jaclyn narrowed her eyes. “Without hesitation,” she replied. “But those are different circumstances and you know it.”
Orion tapped her bare foot against the carpet. “How are they different circumstances?” she asked. “He did that to you. To me. To Shelby. They sold us like fucking merchandise. Just because we escaped doesn’t mean he’s going to stop. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s walking free. People like him don’t ever stop—they can’t. It’s a sickness. How is stopping him not self-defense? Curing the sickness.”
Jaclyn sighed. “I know what you’re going through. I was in that goddamn cage longer than either of you. If I’m being true to myself, I’d like to cut the cock off every last one of these breeders out here. But there are laws. There are men with badges and guns calling the shots. There is an entire judicial system, Orion. They know more about us these days than we know about ourselves!” She paused. “The state takes care of the criminals, babe. Catching monsters, locking them up. All that shit. Let them do their job.”
Orion gritted her teeth. “But he needs to die. He needs to feel just a little bit of my pain. Our pain.” Her voice was sharp. Ugly.
Jaclyn nodded. “I don’t disagree.”
Orion threw up her arms, rose from the bed, and began to pace. “This is a prominent cancer doctor we’re talking about. And the evidence against him is what, the account of a drugged-up girl who says she recognizes his shoes and cologne, and his badge from when he raped her numerous times? I’m not used
to this world, but I know they need a fuck of a lot more than my word to sentence him.”
“You saw his badge,” Jaclyn offered.
“I did, once,” Orion agreed. “For a split second. While I was chained to a bed, about to be raped. Malnourished, beaten, broken. Having been locked in a cell for years. My credibility isn’t exactly ironclad here. His fancy attorney will just convince everyone who needs convincing I’m some poor, damaged girl with traumatic memories, anger, and nowhere to put it. And he’ll have a whole world of wealthy friends to back him up. And, even if he is somehow convicted, he’d serve, what, like two years?”
Jaclyn chuckled. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
Orion narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, every second since we got out. Every second since I saw him.”
Though they hadn’t been out for long, she’d spent enough time on this in her mind to realize she had limited options. She’d played out different scenarios. Different ways she could make him bleed. Make him pay. And none of those ways included a fucking judge and a witness stand. Had they not escaped, how long would it have taken those same cops to find them? Ten years it had been already for Orion. For years, two ex-cons held these girls and turned a senile old lady’s house into a brothel. For years, they killed the ones who no longer serviced them, and got away with it. Where were the cops?
A knock abruptly ended the debate, and Orion’s constantly wandering mind.
All three of them stiffened, their eyes on the door. Jaclyn and Orion moved forward, no longer at odds. The two of them would always be partners. Sisters in blood.
“Who the fuck could that be?” Jaclyn demanded, trying to sound strong, bored even. But she was afraid. “Maybe the cops?”
Shelby let out a small whimper from the bed.
They were meant to have cops stationed out front and in the back of the hotel to keep them safe, along with one stationed in the lobby. Of course, Orion hadn’t believed the detectives. She didn’t trust anyone outside of the girls in the room.
Thoughts of Thing One flashed in her mind, and with the way Jaclyn’s forehead crinkled with concern, Orion wondered if she was thinking the same.
They hadn’t found them for years, and now Thing One was on the loose.
Another knock rung out, louder this time.
Orion jumped. “I don’t wanna fucking answer it,” she said, creeping closer to the door.
“Maybe it’s your boyfriend,” Jaclyn said, a hand on her hip.
Orion flipped her off.
She pressed her eye against the peephole, not stupid enough to open it, trusting uniformed strangers and one all too familiar detective to keep them safe.
She saw a blonde head, bleached because she could see the roots. A woman. She was somewhat distorted through the peephole, but Orion could see both her bare arms were covered in tattoos.
The woman banged again. “Orion, open the door!” she shouted loud enough to be heard through the door.
Orion jerked back. The woman was not familiar, but she knew her name and where she was.
“Who is that?” Jaclyn demanded.
Instead of answering Jaclyn, Orion slowly opened the door, out of curiosity more than anything.
The woman standing in front of her was smaller than she was. Petite. Heavy makeup but in a way that suited her. A pink bra peeked through her thin cotton tank and she was wearing a ripped denim skirt and combat boots. She should’ve looked ridiculous and kind of skanky, but she made it work. Girlish envy, the same she’d had for Jaclyn that day all those years ago, bubbled within Orion.
The woman blinked rapidly at Orion, putting her shaking hand to her mouth.
Orion stared back. She recognized her best friend, though much had changed. The makeup. The hair. The tattoos that likely gave her parents a heart attack.
“Ri,” April whispered, her voice low and broken. “I can’t believe it’s really you!”
It hit Orion in the stomach, and she had the strongest urge to break down and cry in front of this stranger who used to be her best friend in the whole world. Her only true friend before that horrible day.
Luckily, she didn’t get the chance.
April moved forward to yank her into a bear hug she couldn’t escape from even if she wanted to. Orion couldn’t decide whether she wanted to or not. She didn’t want people touching her. At this point, she wasn’t sure if she wanted anyone to touch her ever again. But other parts of her craved it. A contact that wasn’t designed to hurt, to defile, to damage. A part of her was taken right back to the many hugs of their youth, their closeness, their bond. But she didn’t know how to differentiate.
This woman, April, didn’t let her decide. She just did it.
Orion did not relax into the hug, despite the smell of coconut and cigarettes—exactly how she smelled ten years ago—despite the fact she was warm and gentle. No, she didn’t move because she didn’t know how to be hugged or hug back.
Eventually April let her go, but stayed close, running her eyes up and down the length of Orion’s body, a look of disbelief crossing her features.
Her eyes were glassy but a small, melancholy smile jerked the corners of her lips upward.
“You look . . . the same, almost.” Her hand reached out to her face but stopped short at Orion’s flinch, her hand hovering a moment before moving back. She had pink, chipped nail polish on her fingers. “Your freckles are gone,” she said, little more than a whisper. “But you’re here.”
Orion didn’t know what to say. Did she compliment April’s outfit? Her tattoos? Ask her about her life that she got to have while Orion’s was stolen from her? Something in her ached to figure out a way to repair the gap in their friendship, to have at least something from before to hold on to. An anchor to her past so she didn’t float away completely.
“What are you doing here, April?” Orion asked finally. “How did you find us?”
April closed the door behind her, walking farther into the room and snatching a cold fry from a plate. She smiled to Jaclyn and Shelby. Shelby smiled shyly back, Jaclyn did not.
“Dumb shit brother of mine,” April replied, turning back to face Orion who was still standing in front of the door, in a sort of daze.
Orion blinked. “He told you where we were?”
April snorted. “Detective Hardass? Not a chance.” She placed her purse on Orion’s bed. “I overheard him on the phone. Probably talking to sex-on-a-stick, aka stick-up-his-ass Eric.”
Orion tried to process the information, both of them rushing back into her life before she even had a chance to acclimate. Was it selfish of her to need a bit of time to breathe? To put up some shields? She should’ve been glad to have these two blasts from her past as a sort of welcome home, but she wasn’t. She ached to be in silence. To stare at the glowing moon and figure out her thoughts. She didn’t need reminders of all the years she lost.
April was sharp, and despite the years between them, she saw it. Orion’s anger. “Oh, come on,” she said. “How could I not come and see you, Ri? It was my first thought the second I saw the news. The second I talked to Maddox. I mean, God, Ri. You’re alive! And yes, that’s how I found out, by the way. The fucking news. Your face on the TV. I wanted to kick Maddie’s ass right then and there. I dropped every plate I was holding. My manager almost fired me because of it, not that I care. Because you’re here, Ri.” She blinked rapidly, a single tear moving down her cheek. “I can’t believe it.”
She moved forward for another awkward hug that Orion did not participate in. She squeezed her shoulders before thankfully moving away and toward the bed.
“I’m April,” she said to Jaclyn, extending a hand. “Ri’s best friend.”
Jaclyn stared at her hand like it was something unpleasant and nodded. “Jaclyn,” she said without shaking her hand, nails long and painted pink.
April was not perturbed, and she moved along to Shelby for the same song and dance.
Shelby smiled shyly, taking her hand. “I’m Shelby.
Nice to meet you.”
April leaned forward to run her hands through Shelby’s hair. Surprisingly, Shelby didn’t flinch back from the contact. Which was baffling since she was near a panic attack when her parents had held her in their arms a few hours ago.
“Well, aren’t you just gorgeous,” April exclaimed. “You could be a model.”
Shelby’s cheeks reddened and she smiled nervously. Orion knew that Shelby hadn’t been complimented genuinely in her adult life.
Orion was also glad that April was treating Shelby with the care and kindness she needed. Even as a bitchy teenager, April had been able to read people, to be kind when they needed it. To be the friend who picks you up in the bad times and forces you to have a good time until you forget about it. Even if that meant pretending to forget, for April’s sake.
April eyed the room and the fast food wrappers littered around it. “Good to see those cops are doing something right with their money.” She reached over to snatch a burger from a container, took a bite, screwed up her face, and quickly spat it back into the cardboard. “Yuck! Cold.”
It was jarring for Orion to witness her like this. April was exactly the same as she’d been before. Grown up, obviously, but the core of her hadn’t changed. Scarred, like Orion, but radiant too, alive in a way Orion couldn’t comprehend.
“April, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” Orion said coldly. She hated that she got the chance to live a life where she could hug strangers, smile with abandon, and show her body like she owned it. Decorate herself in beautiful scars.
April didn’t even flinch at her tone, or her thinly veiled way of telling her to leave. She just glanced between the two beds. “All three of you are sleeping in here?”
Shelby pointed toward the door between the TV and the bathroom. “My parents are in there. I’m staying with them. They’re already asleep, and I’m . . . not tired yet.”
The truth was, Shelby didn’t quite know how to deal with being around two emotional adults who had loved her, missed her, torn apart the world looking for her . . . and couldn’t keep their hands off her. Orion guessed it was just as strange coming back to two parents who loved you when you’ve forgotten how to love as it was coming back to two dead parents who lost their love long before.