Vengeance in Blood (Book 2): Tribulations

by Thomas A. Watson

  “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to, Besseta,” Tiffany assured her.

  “I don’t want to hurt innocents after he is gone, and I think I would.”

  Tiffany squeezed Besseta’s hand again. “When Herotho died, I was beyond distraught. I was in a small village in northern Greece and—” Tiffany stopped talking and closed her eyes as they walked. “It doesn’t matter what they did, but I killed all of them.”

  Besseta squeezed Tiffany’s hand. “I don’t want to do that.”

  Opening her eyes, Tiffany glanced over. “I will help you not to then.”

  “Thank you,” Besseta exhaled in relief. “You know walking like this suddenly makes me miss my car,” Besseta pointed out.

  Tiffany agreed with a nod. “Yes, I have to say during daylight, a car does propose a proper means of conveyance.”

  Besseta laughed. “We are sounding awful human.”

  Laughing with Besseta, Tiffany looked over. “Will you teach me this driving?”

  “Really?” Besseta asked, smiling, and Tiffany nodded. “We’ll start on the way home, but when we get home, Kenneth will finish teaching you. Driving is very important to him; you can’t be an American unless you drive, according to him.”

  “That seems foolish,” Tiffany complained. “Cars have only been here for a short time, and to say you can’t be American unless you drive one almost sounds barbaric. I mean, you fought for the revolution. If anyone alive is an American, it’s you, Besseta.”

  Loving the way Tiffany saw things, Besseta laughed. “I almost thought the same thing, but it is very relaxing to drive. You’ll see.”

  “Very well,” Tiffany said, lifting her chin. “I will become an American.”

  This sent Besseta into a fit of laughter. Seeing her so joyful, Tiffany smiled as they walked along, and after a few miles, they came to a country store. In the parking lot, Besseta quickly explained how to use the credit card and led Tiffany inside.

  Seeing a display of sunglasses, Tiffany moved faster than a human should have. Worried, Besseta looked around at the few people inside and listened to their thoughts, but no one seemed to notice. At a normal pace, Besseta joined her. “Tiffany, don’t move so fast,” she said in a low voice.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Tiffany said and glanced around. Turning back to the sunglasses, she pulled a pair out and put them on. “What about these?”

  Looking at the giant circles of glass covering Tiffany’s eyes, Besseta was reminded of a bug. “They really don’t look that good on you,” Besseta confessed.

  “Oh, so they have to look good as well?” Tiffany asked and put them back.

  “Kind of,” Besseta admitted. “You want to blend in.”

  After a dozen pairs, Tiffany put another one on. “How about these?”

  “Now those make you look nice,” Besseta smiled.

  Tiffany clapped. “Now where do I exchange my signature for the purchase?” Besseta pointed to the front of the store where an elderly lady sat behind the register. Walking over, Tiffany laid down the glasses. “I’ll purchase these.”

  The elderly lady looked up with a warm smile, and Besseta smiled at the gentle thoughts from her. “My young lady, you ain’t from around these parts,” the lady said, picking up the glasses.

  “Part of what?” Tiffany asked.

  A warm laugh came from the woman. “Just saying you ain’t from close by.”

  “No, but how could you tell?” Tiffany asked.

  “Your accent for one,” the elderly lady smiled.

  Thinking about that, Tiffany looked at Besseta, who was just smiling. “So where do I sound like I’m from, if you don’t mind me making inquiries?”

  “Thirty-two seventeen,” the lady said, cutting the tag off the glasses. “Well, from your speech, I would have to say up in the New England states, but you have a soft accent like French or something.”

  “Remarkable,” Tiffany gasped as Besseta tapped her arm. Pulling out the credit card and license, Tiffany handed them over.

  “No, not remarkable. We just have a lot of travelers through here,” the lady answered, smiling. “Credit or debit?”

  “Credit,” Tiffany answered.

  The lady swiped the card without even looking at the license then handed them back and looked at Besseta. “My, you are quite a little one.” She smiled at Besseta. “Your folks traveling together?”

  “No, we are traveling alone,” Besseta smiled. “We are camping nearby.”

  “Seem awful young to be traveling alone,” the elderly lady said, shaking her head with disapproval. Someone could hurt you two pretty girls. Neither of you can be over eighteen, the lady thought, and Besseta smiled at the warmth.

  Besseta tapped the screen for Tiffany to sign. Doing like Besseta told her, Tiffany scribbled on the screen. “Madam, if you don’t mind, can you tell me where my friend is from just by listening to her talk?” Tiffany asked.

  The lady cackled. “She was taught somewhere close to you, but her family is from Scotland.”

  Amazed, Besseta’s eyes widened. “I don’t have a Scottish accent.”

  “It’s very faint, but yes you do, honey,” the lady said, handing the receipt to Tiffany. “What grade are you in, sweetie?”

  “I’m in college,” Besseta protested. “We both are.”

  This time, it was the lady who was amazed. “You skip some grades?”

  “No,” Besseta answered and heard the lady’s thought. She can’t be but fifteen, sixteen at the most.

  “My apologies,” the lady smiled.

  Smiling, Besseta lowered her head to the lady. “I don’t know what for; everyone thinks I’m a teenager. Thank you, and have a nice day.”

  The lady waved at them as they left. Walking outside, Tiffany put on her sunglasses. “This does make a difference.”

  As they walked across the parking lot, a pickup truck swerved over and stopped in front of them. A man wearing a black baseball cap with a thick, black beard leaned out the window. “Can I give you ladies a ride somewhere?” he asked, looking them up and down.

  Besseta pulled out her sunglasses, not wanting the man to notice the look in her eyes as his thoughts poured over her. Tiffany smiled. “No thank you; we are just walking.”

  “It’s awful hot here, darlin’. Why don’t you two hop in, and we can ride around,” he offered.

  Before Tiffany could answer, Besseta squeezed her arm. Hard. Startled, Tiffany looked down at her arm as Besseta stepped forward. “Maybe some other time, big guy,” Besseta grinned. “What’s your name?”

  “Milton, baby doll,” Milton leered at here. “What’s yours?”

  Clasping her hands in front of her, Besseta rocked back on her heels, smiling shyly. “Besseta.”

  “My, that’s a purdy name,” Milton said. Having been hunting with Besseta many times before, Tiffany instantly recognized what Besseta was doing.

  Besseta lifted her chin. “Milton, when we come back this way, where can I find you?” she asked as Tiffany stepped up beside her. Tiffany reached over to hold Besseta’s hand and smiled shyly at Milton.

  “Why wait, honey pie? Let me show you around,” Milton insisted.

  Besseta looked up at Tiffany then back to Milton. “We really want to, but our friends at the campground are waiting on us. When we come back next week, it will just be us.”

  As Milton answered, Tiffany felt Besseta give the slightest shudder. “Tell you what. Let me give you my number then.”

  Just as Milton was getting ready to give her his phone number, Besseta stepped up. “Never mind.” She smiled, and he frowned. “If you can promise to have us back by morning, we will go with you.”

  An almost menacing look flashed across his eyes for an instant then was replaced by a joyful gleam. “Sure thang, sweetheart,” Milton smiled.

  Besseta pulled Tiffany around the back of the truck and walked to the passenger door. “Besseta, we really don’t have time for this now,” Tiffany whispered.

&nbs
p; “He has a girl tied up at his trailer that’s almost dead,” Besseta whispered back. An invisible force hit Besseta, making her stumble. “Hey, I didn’t do it; he did.”

  “Sorry, lost control,” Tiffany whispered as Besseta opened the door of the truck.

  They climbed in, and Milton threw up dust, laughing as he pealed out of the parking lot. As he drove, Milton babbled, and Besseta just nodded. It wasn’t long before Milton pulled off the highway down a dirt road. After another mile, he pulled up to a dilapidated mobile home that had seen much better days. No sooner than they pulled in the yard, dogs came from under the trailer, barking. They ran toward the truck but stopped at the ends of their leashes, which were tied to the trailer.

  “It ain’t much, but we can party,” Milton said, reaching over and grabbing Besseta’s leg.

  “I’m sure,” Besseta said in a flat tone. “Any other men going to show?”

  Squeezing harder, Milton noticed Besseta’s leg was rather solid and wasn’t responding to his grip. Nor was she. “I’m the only man you two are going to need,” he said, trying to squeeze her leg painfully as he leaned over her, trying to make her cower.

  “Please,” Besseta waved her hand at him and dropped it on Milton’s wrist, “Is this what you were trying to do?” she asked, squeezing hard and feeling bones snap. Since it was daylight, Besseta couldn’t crush his wrist, but she damn sure could break it.

  Milton screamed, trying to pull back his broken wrist, but Besseta’s grip was like a vise. “Tiffany, make him shut up please,” Besseta asked. Suddenly, Milton froze in mid scream. “Thank you, Tiffany.”

  “Besseta, this is taxing in daylight,” Tiffany informed Besseta with sweat starting to bead on her forehead.

  “Feed then. You need it more,” Besseta said as she crawled over Tiffany. She opened the door and climbed out.

  Turning to the stiff Milton, Tiffany smiled. “Thank you for giving me a meal. You are being punished for your evil deeds. Now you know not all hunters are menacing. Some use cunning to lure their prey.” Tiffany grabbed Milton’s beard, pulling him over to her. When his neck was in front of her, she latched on. With his face still frozen in mid scream, tears started pouring out of his wide-open eyes.

  When Tiffany pulled her face away, the life was gone from Milton’s eyes. When she broke her hold on him, Milton collapsed like a rag on the seat. Pushing his head off her lap, Tiffany climbed out to find Besseta picking up rocks.

  Turning to the trailer, Tiffany looked at the two dogs barking at them. “That’s how all dogs have acted toward me for the last four millennia,” she said, waving her hand.

  “Me too,” Besseta said, standing up. “Kenneth has gotten several other dogs close to me though,” she admitted.

  “What?” Tiffany spun around, not wanting to see what would happen to the dogs.

  Looking at the barking dogs, Besseta grabbed a rock in her right hand. “Yes, we went to the pet store, and Kenneth actually got several dogs to come to me,” Besseta said, hurling a rock. Tiffany closed her eyes, knowing what Besseta was doing. The rock sailed over and hit one dog between the eyes. It didn’t yelp when the rock hit; the dog just collapsed.

  “Hearing more about Kenneth, my admiration continues to grow,” Tiffany said, grimacing as Besseta grabbed another rock.

  The last dog was on its hind legs, barking furiously at them with foam starting to form around its mouth. Letting the second rock sail, Besseta looked over at Tiffany. “He’s mine.”

  Tiffany opened her eyes when she heard the thump of the body, and the barking stopped. She returned Besseta’s stare. “You really think I would cause you turmoil?”

  Besseta laughed. “No, I just like saying Kenneth is mine. I’ve never had anyone that I could say that about.”

  “It does feel good, doesn’t it?” Tiffany asked with a gentle smile.

  “Yes it does,” Besseta agreed. “Kenneth loves you,” Besseta said then quickly added, “as a friend.”

  Tiffany walked over and hugged Besseta. “I know—just as I love him as one—but you, little Besseta, I love as my sister.”

  “I love you too,” Besseta said. “Let’s get that girl. She isn’t doing too well.”

  Letting Tiffany go, Besseta walked to the trailer. When she stepped on the small porch, the front door gave a click and opened. “Thank you, Tiffany, but warn me next time. I almost charged the door,” Besseta said, walking in.

  “Sorry,” Tiffany said, following Besseta inside. “This is worse than the dark ages,” Tiffany gasped, looking around. Garbage was everywhere along with empty beer cans. “He lived here?”

  “Yes,” Besseta replied, not even looking around as she walked down the hall. Opening the door at the end of the hall, Besseta found a young girl tied spread eagle to a bed. Slowly, the girl lifted her head, looking at Besseta with pleading eyes but not expecting any mercy. She was filthy, but Besseta could tell the girl was very pretty with blond hair and green eyes.

  Moving to the bed, Besseta’s fingernails sprang out as she swiped at the rope tying the girl. As Besseta freed her, the girl just looked at Besseta in disbelief. “How long have you been here?” Besseta asked, and the girl just looked up at her. “What day did he get you?”

  Never taking her eyes off Besseta, the girl just laid there. “You’ve been here for ten days,” Besseta told the girl. “What’s your name?”

  Tiffany walked in and gasped when she saw the girl. “Tiffany, will you get Grace some water?” Besseta asked, scooping Grace up in her arms. Grace didn’t seem to notice the ease with which Besseta was carrying her.

  “Think it’s safe for her to drink?” Tiffany asked, looking around.

  “I have a bottle in my pack,” Besseta said, carrying Grace to the door. Tiffany stepped aside as Besseta walked past.

  Walking up behind her friend, Tiffany opened Besseta’s backpack and dug down, pulled out a bottle of water, then closed the pack. When Besseta was outside, she sat down on the porch, holding Grace in her arms. Grace’s legs dangled past Besseta’s as she sat in her lap.

  “Here,” Tiffany said, handing over the bottle as she opened it.

  Besseta slowly brought the bottle to Grace’s lips. “We are real, Grace,” Besseta told her. Grace’s dry, cracked lips parted as Besseta tilted the bottle up. When the water hit her parched throat, relief flooded her body with a visible shudder.

  Pulling the bottle away after half was gone, Besseta looked into Grace’s eyes. “Milton’s dead, so don’t worry about him coming back.” Grace jumped at the mention of the name. “Yes, he brought us here, but we let him. I knew he had you here,” Besseta continued, answering the thoughts in Grace’s mind.

  If Grace understood Besseta was hearing her thoughts, she didn’t show it. “Thank you,” Grace finally whispered in a coarse rasp.

  “No need; that’s what we do,” Besseta replied, smiling. “Tiffany, will you get that garbage out of the truck—with your hands?”

  Understanding a floating body might frighten Grace, Tiffany jumped off the porch. Yanking the driver’s door open, Tiffany grabbed Milton’s leg and pulled him out. Milton’s head hit the frame with a thunk. With little effort, Tiffany dragged him across the yard then threw Milton’s dead body by his leg, slamming it against the trailer.

  “See, he’s dead,” Besseta said, putting the bottle back to Grace’s lips.

  When the bottle was empty, Grace looked up at Besseta. “Ginger,” she said.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get here in time for her,” Besseta apologized.

  Tears ran down Grace’s face. “Thank you,” she said, burrowing her face in Besseta’s chest.

  “Can you drive?” Besseta asked, and Grace nodded. Besseta looked up at Tiffany. “Can you give her some clothes? She’s closer to your size than mine.”

  “Of course,” Tiffany said, pulling off her pack. “I have those shorts and t-shirt you made me pack. I don’t think she would fit in my pants.”

  “Grace,” Besseta said, look
ing down, “you know where you are, right?” Grace nodded. “I want you to get in that truck and drive to the hospital. Tell them to call the police, and tell them what happened. You were the fourth girl he took, and the families need to know.”

  “I will,” Grace said, lifting her head as Tiffany walked over. Grace floated off Besseta’s lap, and her feet touched the ground. Then Tiffany started dressing her. Grace never seemed to notice.

  Jumping off the porch, Besseta said, “Grace, don’t tell the cops about us. They don’t like us rescuing girls and killing the guys. If you tell, we can’t help others.”

  After Tiffany put the shirt on her, Grace turned to Besseta. “I’ll never tell anyone. I promise.”

  “It’s not a threat, Grace. We just want to help others, so stop thinking that.” Besseta smiled, and Grace nodded. “That’s right; we hunt for those that take ones like you. We don’t have to worry about arresting them,” Besseta answered the thought, and Grace gave a weak smile.

  Tiffany bent down, putting Grace’s legs in the shorts. “I won’t tell,” Grace promised.

  “Just tell the cops someone rescued you but you don’t know what they look like,” Besseta instructed and smiled, hearing her thoughts. “You don’t have to call the cops idiots.”

  “Done,” Tiffany said, standing up.

  They guided Grace to the truck as she walked on her own, finding strength in her freedom. She climbed in the truck, and Tiffany closed the door as Grace started the engine. “Don’t you need to get out of here?” Grace asked, turning to them.

  “We will be gone before the cops get here,” Besseta assured her. Grace nodded and hit the button, rolling up the window. As she backed out, Besseta looked at Tiffany. “Sorry, but I had to do that.”

  “Besseta,” Tiffany said, turning to square off with her. “If you wouldn’t have, I think I would’ve spanked you.”

  “Spank me!” Besseta cried out.

  “Really hard,” Tiffany added. “We need to get back to the meeting area.”

  “We need to run through the trees,” Besseta said, looking toward the forest.