by J. D. Cavan
“Owe you what?” Charlie mustered up the courage say.
“You’ll find out soon enough. We’ve got something big comin’, real big.” Bill poured himself some more whisky from the bottle and then gave some to Hank. His words were slurring. Charlie quickly tuned everything out and tried to read Bill’s mind to find out what he meant. He was in complete survival mode again. But nothing came. Just fussy noise from Bill’s drunk brain.
“What did you do with Lang’s body?” Hank asked Bill.
“It’s taken care of for now, when things thaw we’ll finish it,” he mumbled.
There was no further talk about Lang or what had happened, but Charlie couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Then everything seemed to come crashing down inside him at once. Charlie shook his head in misery as the worst thought came to him. A sting of despair hit him over the head along with all his other rotten thoughts. It was Jack’s warning about the Serial Seven. Charlie shivered and gulped hard, and a knot formed in his throat.
Charlie had been secretly hoping that maybe when Jack had told him the Serial Seven were coming, he had meant they were coming to help him. That idea never really seemed likely to him, but it seemed even less likely now. Charlie was split inside. He still struggled to deny what he knew was the truth, that the Seven weren’t coming to help him at all, but to kill him. And Lang must have been number one.
2
THE WINTER SEASON finally ended and there were signs of spring. The Yukon River had thawed, and Charlie was told they were planning to hike many miles to a boat. Once there, they would boat to Dawson City where they would meet up with Bill’s cousin, Smitty, and use his truck to drive many miles south to Whitehorse, the largest city in the Yukon. In Whitehorse they could sell some of their pelts, eat and drink for the weekend and pick up more supplies.
The trip was long and by the time they reached the boat, it was nightfall. Luckily, the boat’s motor started with a little gas and they sped down the river to quickly reach Dawson City.
Even though Charlie knew what a city was, he had no personal memory of one and it was a little overwhelming at first. It did help that Dawson was hardly a city, more like a town or village. There were no large buildings and the population was tiny. But it was an active and the downtown area was busy by the time they pulled their boat in and docked it.
After they had filled their bags with water and food for the trip, they started down the road towards the club to meet up with Smitty. On the way down, Hank pulled something out of one of the bags from the local grocery store they had been in. He handed it to Charlie.
“Here’s to your first city, that you know of anyway,” he said.
“Thanks.” Charlie took the gift from Hank. It was a baseball cap with “Dawson City” written on it, and he put it on. It was the first gift he had received from anyone.
Charlie followed the men out of town and down a long, winding dirt road. The light was all but gone by the time they reached the club and even though it was spring, the nights were still very cold. The club was a big place, sitting along the deserted road, the parking lot packed with cars while loud music came from inside.
All four of them walked in the front door, and as they did Bill turned toward Charlie.
“It’s time for your payback,” Bill said to Charlie. Charlie gulped hard, and impulsively stepped backward out the door. He knew that whatever he’d supposedly owed Bill was finally coming due. Bill grabbed his arm and yanked him back inside.
It was crowded and music blasted from a dance floor in the back of the club. There was a large circular bar and they sat down at a table by the door. No one seemed to notice them when they walked in and Smitty, Bill’s cousin, finally showed.
“Hope yah boys didn’t drink all the beer in this place,” Smitty said as he pushed Tom aside and sat next to Bill. Charlie sat in the corner across from them and instantly had a bad feeling about Smitty, who was a heavy man, bearded and wore a dark baseball cap. He looked a lot like Bill.
Smitty glared over at Charlie “Who’s that?”
“Not to worry, he’s one of us,” Hank replied. Smitty had a strange look on his face, like he didn’t believe Hank.
“Did you send a man named Lang out to us?” Bill asked Smitty.
“I ain’t send no one,” he replied.
Bill glanced at Hank. “Never mind,” he said.
“You want to do this deal or not?” Smitty asked in a hushed tone.
“It’s money in the bank, ain’t it?” Bill replied, while Smitty put his phone on the table and looked at it. Bill had a deadly serious look and Charlie’s pulse picked up. He squirmed in his seat uncomfortably.
“Sure they’ll have it?” Hank asked.
“A lot, it’s gonna be a lot,” Smitty quickly replied.
“The boy’s gonna get the money. He’s officially one of us now,” Bill said as he glanced at Charlie.
One of us? Charlie thought, and his heart sank. He had been no one before, and now he was going to lead a life of crime? This is what he owed Bill?
Things suddenly began to take on a surreal quality for Charlie, as if he had some memory coming back but it was more like a dream—like he was dreaming his life. He felt detached, like he was watching himself in a movie.
Until now, his dreams at night had always been the same. Just what his life had been in the Yukon. The wolves and the men he spent his days with. But this was different. There was something about this club. Perhaps he had dreamed about it and forgotten. Perhaps there was something about his life here, the one he couldn’t remember.
Charlie started to notice things. There was a boy standing over by the dance floor, the bouncer. He was tall and strong looking and had a shirt on with the club’s name printed on it. He faced the room without expression, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Charlie somehow thought he recognized him.
Smitty motioned his head to two younger men sitting at a table closer to the bar. The mysterious men wore baseball caps and appeared to know a lot of the other people in the club. They were drinking and periodically another man would come up to them and say something. Smitty walked over to the men, shook their hands and sat down at their table. At that moment, Hank leaned over and whispered in Charlie’s ear, snapping him out of his haze.
“We’re going to take the drug dealers in the parking lot. You make sure to get the money, like Bill said. “It’s going to be in a metal suitcase.” Charlie had always thought more of Hank, that he was better than Bill in some way. He’d been wrong. Drug dealers, money… This was really bad stuff.
After the disappointment with Hank, Charlie felt fear. His anxiety jumped through the roof and he tried to stay composed. He wanted to excuse himself and go to the bathroom to try and escape, but he was too freaked out.
Bill moved over to sit next to him. “Pull yourself together boy,” he said into Charlie’s face. “Don’t mess this up.” Bill lifted his thick wool shirt to show his handgun.
Charlie glanced at the door and thought about fleeing again. But where would he go? His head was pounding and he felt like he had to catch his breath. Things got loud again, like a million voices all screaming at once, everyone in the club talking in his head at the same time. He told the noise in his head to—Stop! And everything went silent. Then he heard one voice talking.
“You guys want drinks, or are you going to sit here all night with sorry-looking mugs on your faces.” It was the waitress, shouting over the music.
“Get us beers and I’ll take a shot of your best whisky,” Bill told her. She had a tight black cocktail shirt on and Bill ran his hand over her leg. Charlie was barely paying attention. He had his Dawson City baseball cap pulled down low over his face and was watching Smitty intently.
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she boys.” The waitress smashed Bill’s hand off her leg. “Oh, she’s a tiger, too!” Bill cackled. Then Charlie felt Bill hit him on the arm, startling him.
“She’s talking to yah!” Bill motioned t
o the waitress, who had been asking Charlie what he wanted to drink. Charlie glanced up at her face for the first time. Her eyes met his and her mouth dropped wide open, and she took a couple of steps backward. Charlie turned his head in confusion.
“You know him?” Hank said, more than asked. She moved her eyes away from Charlie and glanced back at Hank and Bill.
“I’ve never seen him before,” she replied. Charlie struggled—he had a vague sense of her, like the boy at the club door, somehow familiar. “I’ll be back with your drinks,” the girl said quickly before walking away.
As she left the table, Smitty got back to it. “Let’s go, it’s now or never.” He took his coat off his chair and put it on. The two men Smitty had been talking to had gotten up and walked out the back door of the club.
Everyone stood up and Bill grabbed Charlie by the back of his shirt, yanking him off the chair. They started to head out of the club with Smitty leading the way when Charlie felt someone clutch his arm and whisk him back inside. It was the waitress. He fell to the side of the wall behind the front door.
“What are you doing here?” she said, in a hushed voice.
Charlie peered into her eyes. “Who are you?” he asked desperately.
She looked at him strangely. “I’m Samantha.”
“You know me?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, Charlie.”
“Charlie!” Hank had stopped everyone but Smitty, who had gone out into the parking lot to meet the other men.
“She knows him,” Bill said, with a crazy look in his eyes.
“Shit!” Tom blurted. Smitty rushed back inside the door and noticed them all huddled together.
“What the hell are you doing? They’re waiting,” Smitty demanded.
“We got a little problem—” Tom said.
“We got a bigger problem outside!” Smitty replied.
“Move, Charlie.” Bill grabbed him by the jacket and wrenched him out from behind the door. “We’ll deal with the waitress after,” Bill said while pushing Charlie out into the night.
It happened quickly. The deal went south fast. One of the drug dealers had a switchblade and stabbed Tom in the gut with it. He fell backward while Bill smashed the man who had stabbed Tom in the head with a baseball bat. Hank managed to knock the other man out with a punch. Charlie was supposed to take a metal suitcase full of money, but he froze so Smitty took it from the men and headed for the truck. Bill and Hank yanked Tom up and began to drag him.
“Charlie, get in the damn truck!” Bill turned and shouted over his shoulder. Charlie had been backing away from the scene, moving closer to the club’s door.
Bill ran toward Charlie with fire in his eyes. Charlie put his arms up and Bill reached his huge hand in, grabbing Charlie around the collar of his jacket and picking him up off his feet. Charlie swung a fist at him but Bill blocked it and then hammered him in the eye and mouth with two quick but powerful jabs. Charlie saw darkness and his head spun, and then he felt himself being taken toward the truck.
“Hey, scumbag! Leave the kid alone,” another voice suddenly rang out of the darkness. Charlie tried to focus his eyes on the voice. It was the girl from the club, Samantha. She had walked out and was standing there. Hank, Tom and Smitty were in the truck now with the engine running.
“Forget the kids, let’s go!” Smitty shouted to Bill from the driver’s seat. Bill glared at the girl, who stood in defiance, and he dropped Charlie’s lifeless body to the ground.
“Since you know our little friend here…” Bill pointed to Charlie, who was struggling to stand up. “We’ll take you both!” He reached over, put his giant hand around her arm and squeezed it. She quickly backhanded him across the face, sending a shot of blood from his nose into the air. He closed his fist to hit her but before he did, his body jerked and he left his feet. Someone had come from the other side of the club’s entrance and knocked him down, football style, to the ground. It was as if Bill had been hit by a speeding car.
Charlie watched as the figure pounced on top of Bill and pounded him with right and left punches viciously until Bill seemed to be out cold. The truck’s door opened and Hank jumped out.
“Luca, they’re coming,” Samantha shouted to the boy, who Charlie noticed was the bouncer from the club. She raced over and began to yank Charlie’s arm, pulling him toward the club. Luca got off Bill, leaving him collapsed and bloody. Hank appeared and picked Bill up.
“Get in the truck!” Hank shouted at Charlie while dragging Bill across the rocky pavement. Charlie didn’t move and was still feeling like he might pass out from the blows he’d taken. Luca walked over and stood by him. He was a big kid, very muscular.
For the first time, Charlie felt it—a power and a purpose—and however faint it was, it was more than he had felt in the short memory of his life. It was something about Samantha and Luca that gave him a shot of courage. “I’m not going with you,” Charlie said loudly.
“Oh yes you are,” Smitty shouted. He held the baseball bat outside the truck’s window and opened his door.
Luca took two steps forward. “I think you heard him.” His fists were balled and a snarl crossed his face. Smitty glanced over at the drug dealers. They had shaken off their injuries and were up on their feet, now dazed and searching for their stolen suitcase.
“Leave him,” Bill grunted as blood came from his mouth. In the truck now and fully awake, he glared at Charlie. “We’ll find you,” Bill said, and then Charlie watched them drive off into the night.
Hank, Tom and Bill, Charlie’s only family, the only friends he had known—gone in an instant. The drug dealers started toward their car. One of them turned and looked at Charlie from underneath his baseball cap before getting in and racing out of the parking lot and down the dirt road. It was silent for moment.
“I’m friggin’ freezin’ out here!” Samantha blurted. She had rushed out without her jacket on to help Charlie, and her body looked blue. Luca ripped off his coat and put it over her.
“Get your crap, we’re on the road again,” Luca uttered as he walked toward the club’s door. “Those drug dealers are crazy and whoever the other guys are, the ones who took their money, are even crazier.”
“We finally started to rub a couple nickels together,” Samantha said, running her hands over her arms and jumping up and down a little to keep warm.
“I’d rather be broke than deal with those scum.” Luca motioned to where Bill, Hank, Tom and Smitty had been. “They’ll be coming back for this kid, you know, the boy of your dreams over here.” He pointed to Charlie before disappearing back inside the club.
“My thoughts Luca, not my dreams!” she called, looking embarrassed.
She glanced at Charlie. “Yikes.” She clenched her teeth and had a pained look in her eyes. “We’ll fix your face in the truck.” She touched Charlie’s now-swollen eye.
“Thanks.” He took a tissue out of his jacket and dabbed his mouth and eye with it. It soaked with blood quickly. “Why are you helping me?” Charlie asked.
“You don’t remember me?” Samantha slipped a napkin out of her apron and cleaned some of the blood from his mouth.
Charlie shook his head slightly. “I don’t remember anything about myself. I have no memory of my life.”
Luca drove his gray pickup truck around the front of the club and pulled up to them. “Get in,” he said through the open window.
“Wait.” Charlie held her hand before letting it drop away from his face. “How’d you know my name?”
“You told me.” She looked at him strangely. “But it’s nice to meet you again, Charlie.” She smiled at him and he smiled back, even though it hurt his now-fat-and-cracked lip.
With the truck running, Samantha opened the door and helped Charlie in. “You’re not looking too good there, Charlie.” Luca shifted some of his things over so all three of them could sit together in the front row of the cab in the truck. Charlie had started to feel the pain, and his face throbbed.
“You�
�ll be better in the morning,” Samantha said as she put a bag of ice on his mouth. Luca had snatched it from behind the bar before leaving.
“I guess we’re off on another crazy adventure, and who knows where we’ll end up…” Luca glanced back at the club. “Only this time we have dangerous hunters and drug dealers after us, and some kid who has absolutely no idea who he is.” Luca drove the truck out of the parking lot and down the dirt road.
* * *
THERE WAS A TERRIBLE noise and the smell of rubber burning. Charlie woke up, startled, and tried to focus his eyes on the road. He braced himself as the truck swerved wildly.
“Hang on, we blew a tire!” Luca shouted as he yanked the wheel. The truck ground against the guardrail, sending sparks into the night before it began careening toward a cement bridge support. Luca slammed the breaks and the truck slid sideways before coming to a complete stop just inches from the barricade. It was silent in the cab for a second.
“You saved us,” Charlie said to Luca, graciously, his heart pounding away. Samantha clutched the dashboard, still bracing for the crash. Luca jumped out of the truck. It was just past dusk on the empty road. The snow was still on the ground, and it was very frigid out—definitely not a good time to be stuck on the side of a dark highway.
“Sam, I need a flashlight!” Luca called. Charlie and Samantha got out of the truck and she handed Luca her phone with the flashlight on. The smell of burnt rubber was pungent, and the tire was completely blown out, shredded. Melted rubber hung from the rim of the wheel.
“Do we have a spare?” asked Charlie. White breath covered the area around them, and Samantha began to shiver.
“In the back,” Luca said, pulling the cover off the bed off the truck.
“I’m getting inside; I’m freezing,” Samantha called as she climbed back into the cab. “Let me know when you’re ready to jack it up. I’ll get out and help!”