Best Laid Plans

by Stylo Fantome

  “It’s just a gun, like any other gun,” she tried to play it off.

  “It’s a gun that you were saving for a special occasion.”

  “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t. Now move.”

  Then he yanked on the chain hard enough to pull her to her knees.

  Asshole.

  They headed back to the road. Lily kept away from him at first, staying as far back as the chain would allow. She didn’t like being close to him. It brought up memories she would rather forget, especially considering their new circumstances. But he didn’t like her being that far behind him, so he stopped them and tightened the chain around her waist, making it so she could never be more than three feet from him.

  Major asshole.

  Once at the road, they started walking down it, farther away from Monrovia. He set a brisk pace, and as they went along, Lily started to feel all her injuries. Her hip hurt, her head throbbed, and she was so thirsty she could barely see straight. She didn’t want to say anything to him, but her body wasn’t as strong. She stumbled a couple times and managed to keep going, but when she fell to her knees it was a different story. She couldn’t get back up.

  “What’re you playing at now?” he barked out. She shook her head, trying to clear her double vision.

  “Water,” she panted. He yanked on her chain, almost causing her to collapse.

  “What was that!?”

  “Water! I need … water. It’s been a day and a half since I’ve had anything and we’ve been walking forever,” she yelled back. There was mumbling, and she didn’t expect him to comply, but then there he was, squatting in front of her and holding out a bottle of water. She grabbed it.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid. Should’ve said something. This heat can kill you,” he grumbled. She stayed on her knees, one hand against the ground, the other tilting the bottle to her lips. While she sucked down the liquid, she was surprised to feel something cool on her neck. She opened her eyes and realized he was sprinkling water across her back.

  “Why are you being nice to me?” she asked, wiping at her mouth.

  “Because I don’t want to drag a dead body in this heat. Keep moving.”

  They walked for about two hours without seeing anything. Marc stopped regularly for her, without even asking. Doled out water and jerky for them both. She still felt like shit, but she didn’t quite feel like collapsing anymore. And the bastard hadn’t tried to kill her yet, so that was a plus.

  Yet …

  Just barely into their third hour of walking, it happened. A car on the horizon. They were on a straight stretch of road with huge trees and greenery on either side of them. It was humid and hot and for a second, Lily thought it was a mirage. Or heat waves. But no, there was definitely a car headed towards them.

  “Just keep walking,” Marc instructed, yanking on the chain when she stopped to stare.

  “What’s going to happen?” she asked.

  It was the first time she’d willingly engaged in conversation with him since they’d left her car. She was nervous. Liberia was a dangerous place, and Monrovia even more so – a car heading towards them wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She didn’t want to go from being chained to a mercenary to being chained up in some gang’s basement.

  “Nothing. Keep walking. Don’t do anything unless I tell you to.”

  The car was an old beat up Volvo, and was missing a back door, with only a tarp covering it up. It was racing along, and Lily had high hopes it would pass them, but no such luck. The driver slammed on the brakes, the tires squealing and leaving rubber on the asphalt. Marc stopped walking, so Lily stopped walking, scooting behind him a little.

  “Marc, what if they -” she started to whisper.

  “Not a word. Do whatever I tell you,” he hissed back.

  Lily watched as two young men got out of the car. They could’ve been anywhere between eighteen years and thirty. Life hadn’t been kind to them. They were sickly skinny, though whether from malnutrition or drugs, she couldn’t tell. Both carried large, fully automatic rifles. Both were talking loudly to Marc while gesturing to her.

  “Ah!” Marc was smiling, and it was actually scarier than the glare he’d been wearing for most of the day. “You like? You like what you see?” he asked, gesturing at her.

  She almost gagged. Something was going on, the men were talking back and forth, speaking in a mish-mash of English, Pidgin, and French. A lot of looks and points and stares were being directed at her. One of the strangers stepped up close to her, reached up to touch her hair.

  “I like red,” he said in a baritone voice. She yanked away from him.

  “What is going on!?” she demanded. They started talking louder and Marc pulled her in front of him.

  “This one is dangerous, my friends! She has claws, she scratches, like a cat,” he laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist and hugging her close. It was the first time he’d touched her in an intimate manner since their night together in his room.

  “What the fuck are you talking about!?” she exclaimed, trying to turn her head back to look at him. The two men laughed, and one of them stretched out an arm, pointing at her chest.

  “Yes! Her best feature, I agree. Even better naked, I guarantee. Want a taste?” Marc offered, and Lily was beyond shocked when both his hands came up to cup her breasts.

  “Get your fucking hands off of me!” she spit out, thrashing around in his grip. The men just laughed even more.

  “How much? How much?” they began asking, fishing around in their pants. Lily’s anger turned to panic.

  “You can’t sell me! People know I’m here! You can’t do this!” she screamed, full blown fear blossoming in her chest. Marc’s hands moved to her waist and he gripped her, squeezing his fingers. She cried out in pain.

  “Shut up and trust me,” his voice was low near her ear.

  “No! No! You fucking liar! Fucking sell me!? You fucking liar!” she shrieked, trying to pull away.

  “The car!” Marc yelled over her. “Give me the keys, I hand you the girl!”

  The men shook their heads, and arguing commenced. Lily grunted and shrieked, still trying to break free from Marc. Eventually, he cuffed her across the back of the head with the gun. The blow ricocheted around in her skull and she doubled over in pain, her hands on the back of her head.

  “No deal! No deal! You take cash, or we take girl!” one of the men yelled, and he leveled his gun on Marc’s head.

  “You give me the car, I give you the girl!” Marc urged.

  “No!”

  Someone grabbed Lily’s hand and she was yanked forward. She screamed and immediately tried to pull away. An arm went around her waist, she was pretty sure it was Marc’s, and a tug-o-war game started. She was pulled up and off the ground, one of the stranger’s getting his arm around her shoulders. She kicked out her legs and managed to wrap them around Marc’s waist and she locked on, holding on for dear life.

  “Lily! Calm down!” Marc’s voice cut through the pandemonium.

  “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS!? I’M GETTING KIDNAPPED!” she bellowed.

  Despite the commotion – the yelling, the shouting, Lily’s high pitched girly shrieking – the sound of a gun being cocked was unmistakable, and it broke through the cacophony. Everyone froze, and when she lifted her head, it was to see Marc pointing her Glock straight ahead. She swallowed thickly and retightened her grip on his waist.

  “As you can see, my lady friend here likes to make things difficult. We just need your car,” Marc explained in a low voice.

  Lily glanced behind her. During the struggle, both men had let go of their guns. Marc had the drop on them, which had possibly been his plan the whole time. Everyone held completely still, eyes bouncing off of each other.

  “We put her down,” one man offered, his voice quiet.

  “No! You don’t move. Lily, let go of my waist,” Marc instructed.

  “No, they’ll pull
me away.”

  “Just trust me.”

  She didn’t trust him, not at all. But she lowered her feet to the ground.

  She’d barely made contact with the asphalt when all hell broke loose. The two men dropped her upper half as they dove for their guns. Marc shouted, then gunfire rang out. Lily cried out, covering her face with her hands.

  She didn’t know how long it went on for; it felt like forever, but also like it all happened in the blink of an eye. She’d curled into the fetal position, and when she felt a hand on her leg, she screamed and kicked.

  “It’s me! It’s me, you idiot!” Marc shouted, gripping onto her ankle and pulling hard enough to drag her a couple feet towards him. She opened her eyes and he moved to stand over her.

  “Where’d they go?” she asked, pushing herself upright.

  “You did this,” he snapped. “I want you to remember that. If you’d just shut the fuck up once and a while, listen to what I say … fuck.” He was mumbling, almost talking more to himself than to her. She stood up and turned to face him, then gasped at the sight in front of her.

  Both men were dead. One was on his front, thank god. The other, Lily wasn’t as lucky. He’d been shot three times in the chest and a fourth bullet had grazed his head, taking a chunk out of his skull. She put a hand over her mouth.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” she groaned, trying to hold back the vomit. It was one thing to plan a man’s death for over five years – it was quite another to see death and destruction laid out in front of her.

  “Shut up and come help me,” Marc said, yanking on her chain. She stumbled forward.

  “I’m not touching them,” she replied defiantly.

  “Oh, yes, you are. You helped make this mess, so you’re sure as shit cleaning it up,” he stated.

  “I did what!? Don’t you dare put their deaths on me!” she shouted. “You didn’t say anything! You were going to sell me! How did you think I’d react!?” He steamed up to her and lowered himself so his face was right in her face.

  “I told you to keep your mouth shut. I told you not to do anything. I wasn’t going to sell you. I was distracting them, so we could get the car. If you had just listened to what I said and paid attention, these men would be alive right now!”

  Lily couldn’t believe it. He had hit her. He had chained her to him. He had made her walk for miles. He had ruined her five-years-long plan. And now he was blaming the deaths of two men on her.

  Fuck. This.

  Despite losing her shit only moments before, Lily was no wilting flower. She had extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. She let out a shriek, and then she headbutted Marc as hard as she possibly could.

  The move caught him off guard, and Lily took his stun and used it to her advantage, hiking her leg up and stomping down on his kneecap. He gave a strangled shout, dropping to his knees. She then knotted her fingers in his hair and slammed his forehead onto her own leg, causing him to fly backwards.

  She rushed towards him, kicking him in the rib cage. Once, twice, a third and fourth time, but when she went for the fifth stomp, he managed to grab her foot. He twisted and she was completely thrown off balance, falling to the ground.

  They rolled around for a minute, Marc trying to get a grip on her flailing limbs, Lily trying to throw her weight around so she could gain the upper hand. It didn’t work, and soon enough he had her pinned face down on the ground, the chain wrapped around her neck. He pulled back so hard her spine arched, lifting her chest off the pavement. She gagged and coughed, fingers curling around the links.

  “Fucking spit on me, fucking hit me, fucking headbutted me!? Where the fuck did you come from!?” he was yelling as he choked her.

  Do something or you’re going to black out.

  He was kneeling over her hips, which put him in close rang. She rammed her elbow back into his solar plexus. He made his own weird gagging noises and pitched forward on top of her. Lily went with it, falling with his weight and letting him roll over her. She scrambled to her knees, and as she did so, she saw it. Her gun. It had fallen free of his pants and was laying on the pavement.

  She jumped to her feet, scooping it up. But she didn’t even have enough time to cock it before Marc was on her, yanking one of her legs out from underneath her. She fell to one knee and was treated to some of the moves she’d dished out earlier; an elbow straight to her chest. She gasped, pressing a hand to her sternum. His own hand went into her hair, pulling her into a back bend. Keeping her palm flat, she rammed her hand upwards, shoving it up into his nose. He howled and let her go.

  She again got to her feet and started to run, but she forgot about the stupid chain. She’d barely made it five feet when she was violently yanked backwards. As she spun around, he slapped her across the face, causing her to fall into the side of the car. She moved quickly, racking the slide and whipping the gun out in front of her, but he grabbed her wrist, keeping the muzzle pointed away from him as she fired off two rounds. He drove his other fist straight for her face, so she jerked to the side, causing him to punch out the passenger window. Then she kneed him in the balls. She expected it to lay him out, but surprisingly, it didn’t. He made a funny sound in the back of his throat and his knees buckled, but he didn’t go down.

  His hand was through the glass, stuck between the jagged shards. His other hand was wrapped around both of her wrists, keeping the gun at bay. When his knees had given out, they’d slammed into her own legs, effectively pinning her into place.

  Another standoff.

  “You were actually gonna shoot me,” he was breathing heavy. She was pleased to see that his nose was bleeding.

  “Only in the knee, don’t be such a pussy,” she panted back at him.

  “What was it I said I’d do if you messed with me again?” he asked, his eyes skating down her body. Lily swallowed thickly.

  “You wouldn’t,” she whispered, remembering his threat to cut the diamonds out of her.

  “You tested me. Maybe it’s time you found out what kind of man you’re dealing with.”

  Lily slammed all her weight against his outstretched arm, grinding his forearm into the jagged glass. He growled and his grip on her wrists lightened enough that she was able to break free. But he wasn’t stunned enough to let her go, and she was knocked to the ground once more. The gun went flying.

  It was a clawing, scratching, hair pulling race after that, both of them crawling towards the weapon. She climbed on his back at one point, biting down on his shoulder hard enough that the copper taste of blood stained her tongue. He flipped her over for that trick, but that was fine with her because it meant she was able to kick his legs out from underneath him. He went down as well and she scrambled to get on top of him.

  She sat on his chest, her knees on either side of his head, her feet pinning his arms to his side. Then she gave him the best right hook she had, straight across his jaw. With the second punch, she drew blood, and a third, she was positive she’d loosened some teeth. She wasn’t given a fourth chance, though; he yanked his arms free and grabbed her by the hips, rolling them so she was underneath him.

  They landed on top of the gun. It dug painfully into her spine. They rolled from side to side, both trying to reach under her to get at it. She bucked and moved, trying to shake him off, but he didn’t budge. He was even able to lock his knees down tight against her hips, managing to hold her in place. She screamed out as she felt him grip the butt of the gun. Her last hope was to possibly headbutt him again, but to her horror, just as she was lifting her forehead, he was pointing the barrel straight at her. Then he moved it a fraction of an inch and pulled the trigger twice, rapid fire, on either side of her head before pointing the muzzle straight down at her chest, so close, she could feel the heat from it.

  “Don’t. Move.”

  It was not a request, and there was nothing soft in his voice. She didn’t move, though she couldn’t stop her panting. There was also a sharp ringing in both of her ears. She stared at the gun, then s
tared at his face. He was glaring again. He seemed to always be glaring.

  “Do it,” she whispered. “You’ve ruined everything, anyway. Pull the trigger. Not like killing matters to you, right? Do it.”

  The gun was loaded, the safety was off, and it was cocked. She prepared herself for the end.

  But it didn’t happen.

  “From here on out, you do what I say. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  DAY TWO

  They drove for hours. They didn’t speak at all, except when Lily gave him directions. She showed him where to turn onto a dirt road, which eventually led to the old unused army road. Getting out of Liberia only took a couple hours, but they didn’t stop in Guinea. Marc was determined to make the trip as quickly as possible and he didn’t want to stop moving, didn’t want to run the risk of drawing any attention to them. He stole gas and food along the way wherever he could. He had chained Lily to her seat, not trusting her any farther than he could throw her. She stayed silent, a look of resignation painted on her face.

  He could admit it – the chick was good. It wasn’t so much the headbutt itself, but the sheer shock that she’d even attempted a move like that was what had stunned him. His knee, his stomach; she knew where to land her blows. After they’d gotten up and dusted themselves off, he’d had to spit out a crown that she’d managed to knock loose. The girl could hit. He probably would’ve lost that fight if she would’ve ever bothered to learn how to control her temper.

  He glanced across the car at her. She’d finally fallen asleep. She almost looked sweet in her sleep. He’d never seen her in repose before; at the safe house she’d always been doing something, on her way in or out, or flirting with him, talking with him. In his room it had been non-stop sex, with him being the one to fall asleep. She was always moving, always going. He wondered what had happened to Lily in her life. What had turned strawberry shortcake into a fighting machine that did dirty work for a Russian Bratva?