Vile Machinations

by P. S. Power

  Climbing up onto the table, he kept a respectful distance. Five feet. Not to protect his virtue, of course. Just so he wouldn’t have to explain why she kept having black outs every time they bumped into each other. Not that she’d recall it that way, as long as the amount of missing time wasn’t too great.

  She looked over at him, as if he were being cute, by not trying to take advantage of her. She was attractive enough that men and boys probably tried to be close to her whenever possible, Connor didn’t doubt.

  He, on the other hand, was going to have to mark himself as a freak, sitting away from her as if he feared her being diseased.

  The girl, actually wringing her long hair in an attempt to get water from it, tilted her head in a move that was cute and meant to be seen that way.

  “I go to Bricks, over the hill behind us. I haven’t seen you there, so that probably means you’re a sane and law abiding citizen… Where do you go?” She waited, even if it was clear she had more to say. That probably meant she was planning to base that on his reply.

  For his part, he was just honest.

  “I’m out of school, now. I went to Etain. That’s a private all boys school in Vermont. Until they kicked me out a few weeks back. There was a bit of a scandal at the same time. Which really had nothing to do with me.”

  Blinking at him, the girl smiled.

  “Wait… I heard about that. The thing where the teachers were raping all the students and then killed themselves in a suicide pact? Some kind of weird cult thing, right? You were really there? Did they…” Her lips closed, and she didn’t ask the next question at all.

  Which was her fighting his field in order to be polite.

  “I wasn’t raped. Thankfully. A lot of the guys there were. Most, probably. Some of them had told me about it, before I left. I’m new to the area here, obviously. Bricks… I haven’t heard of it. Is it a good school? Etain was, other than the obvious flaws to their system. At least I think I received a decent education.” He had to consider that he didn't really know enough to be able to judge that. If things were different than he’d been shown, it hadn’t come up yet.

  The bright red head nodded, the pale white skin of her face made up with something that didn’t run just because it was slightly wet.

  “That’s… It’s kind of the alternative school for the area. You know, where they send the bad kids after they get out of juvie? Not that I belong there. It isn’t that bad, though I was sent because I stabbed my step-father with a steak knife. Three times.” She shrugged, then looked away. “He was trying to rape me again, so I fought. He was the one that called the cops, so they took his side and said that I was lying about the abuse to get out of trouble. Which I wasn’t, not that anyone in the world believes me.” She shook her head and smiled when she turned to look at Connor.

  Who did, as it turned out, believe her.

  “Oh? So, you get sent off to a special school, due to that? That’s horrible.” He nearly offered to help, but didn't really know how.

  Apparently, the girl he was with, Faith, didn’t expect strangers to do that kind of thing for her, either. She just shrugged.

  “The worst part is that the state put me back with mom and him. She fucking dotes on him, and won’t hear anything I try to tell her about what he does to me. The police won’t either, so I end up taking it in any hole he likes four times a week and will, until I can get out of there. They aren’t paying for college, even if the prick suddenly has a lot of money that he’s been hiding from us, so I’m probably stuck for another year, you know? If he doesn’t try to kill me, so that I can’t press charges once I turn eighteen, which I’m totally doing. I looked it up. I’m having him charged and if the state won’t do it, I’ll fucking sue them.”

  She didn’t seem happy about it.

  Then, even Connor could see how that kind of thing might be annoying. After all, killing her first to ensure her silence really did seem like the sensible plan, given everything. It was what he would have done, in her step-father, Ephraim’s, place.

  Chapter ten

  Faith was no more or less chatty than anyone else that bothered to sit within five to seven feet of Connor. That meant she kept up a steady stream of truths about herself and her life over the next several hours, which informed him about pretty much everything in her world. Enough so that, even if she was fairly pretty, he really didn’t want anything to do with her on a personal level by the time she finally stood up, just as it was turning dark.

  The rain had let up a long time before, but the girl had kept on going. Even as she made moves to leave, her mouth kept running in the wrong direction.

  On the good side, it was all about her and not him, for once. Normally, at some point, people, especially women, started to critique his looks or imagined personality flaws. Faith had, so far, avoided that totally.

  “I spend way too much time looking at my shit in the toilet, you know? As if I’m going to find something there that will tell me something. My life is like that. Just shit that needs to be flushed. I’d kill myself, except that it would give Ephraim too much help in silencing me. He needs to pay, first. I should have finished him when I had the chance. The asshole can actually fight though, for some reason. Probably because he’s selling drugs out of our garage. As if we aren’t supposed to see the twenty people coming and going each week back there? Mom pretends she doesn’t… She’s not clueless though. That bitch knows what he’s doing to me. She has for years. I told her and it… She has to hear him raping me. It isn’t like he’s silent about it. The bastard practically screams instead of grunting.”

  The girl stood up, her face flushed and as she took a few steps away, it seemed to suddenly dawn on her that she’d pretty much told a complete stranger everything about herself. Including how often she picked her nose and what it tasted like when she ate the things. Also, what she thought about when she masturbated and how her sexual fantasies had shifted over the years, away from men and toward both women and animals. She was self-aware enough to understand that was down to the abuse that she’d faced, so at least there was that going on for her.

  Looking perplexed, finally, after hours of spilling her guts, the red-haired girl blinked at him.

  “I… Have no clue why I told you all of that. You… Don’t tell anyone, please? I’m…” She clearly realized how potentially embarrassing what she’d been going on about could be. At least if she didn’t understand how very little Connor had come to care about her as they sat under the wooden roof in the park.

  Honestly, that part, his concern for her, was nearly as great as it was for anyone. He just didn't want to have sex with her in particular. Not that it had ever been on offer. A thing that was slightly odd, now that he thought about it. Normally, if anyone was around him for more than say, half an hour, the topic would turn to him and what kinds of things they were really willing to do with him.

  Very often that was filled with negative things. Sometimes the words were more positive, though almost no one understood that touching him was off the table, at least as a thing they’d recall doing, later.

  This girl hadn’t gone there at all. Not even to indicate she didn't want him, because he was male. Or to hint that sex with him was a concern for her in any way. Which, given she’d cataloged at least five of her favorite sexual fantasies for him, was strange. It should have been in the mix. Even if all she said on the topic was that he was too boring to bother thinking about that way.

  Luckily, she’d been gross enough that he wasn’t interested in her any longer. He had been in the first hour or so, then that had faded. Given that he could get her to do anything he wanted that way, it was probably for the best, to her perspective. After all, his power, as Doc had pointed out more than once, really made his date rape potential shoot off the charts.

  He could do anything he wanted, with anyone, and even if they recorded it, the whole thing would seem consensual. Even if they didn’t have a choice in the matter. Better, or worse, depending on th
e thought behind it, they wouldn’t recall it later.

  Just like he didn’t remember his mother abusing him as a child. While that wasn’t a lovely thing to learn about, the truth was that it didn’t really bother him as more than an abstract thing, now that he’d heard about it. In that way, Bertie had been correct. For him, more than almost anyone else on the planet, it just didn't matter if he did things to people against their will that way.

  It simply wouldn’t hurt them. Not as long as he made sure not to physically injure them, at any rate. Meaning that his own prohibition against that kind of thing was probably going to weaken eventually. After all, the world was his menu and Etain had been kind enough to make it nearly impossible for him to seek relief in a more normal way, like using his own hand. The very idea of doing that left him feeling ill and afraid. As if pain would shoot across his back if his hand strayed anywhere too near his crotch with the wrong intent in mind.

  Given that Faith was cute enough and he was at least half aroused at the moment, it spoke about exactly how disgusted he really was with her story. Instead of finding someplace for them to be alone, or even mainly hidden, there in the park, he simply shrugged at her, not standing up.

  “Don’t worry about it. You clearly needed to get some things off your chest. What you tell me is secret.” Not that he felt any obligation to her that way.

  For one thing, he was pretty certain that her step father’s drug business, the one done out of the garage, wasn’t one. There had been more than enough in the girl’s tale to understand that her raping step-father was Ephraim Kelley. The man that guarded the safe house entrance Connor needed to use in about an hour. On the good side, he had a bit more information about the situation there now.

  Ephraim had enough money coming in that Faith had become aware of it. Mainly because the man bought presents for his wife almost constantly. Nice things that a seemingly unemployed man wouldn’t have access to. Not without doing illegal things to get them.

  The story was that he owned the house and lived off his wife’s hard work. At least from the daughter’s perspective. Except that the man made a living doing his guard duties, clearly. Even at that, Walker had put forth that the fellow simply had too much money happening in his life at the moment.

  Plus, even if Connor didn’t want to have a shot at his cute daughter at the moment, the man was kind of a pig when it came to rape. A thing that he was getting away with handily, it seemed. The police were actually enforcing his right to abuse the girl, after all. Probably thanks to whatever power the Order had going on in the area. They’d gotten him left alone and put his target back inside his reach almost instantly, instead of doing whatever they should have.

  Foster homes or something. Even locking the girl up in detention would be more normal, if they didn't believe her reason for stabbing the man in the first place. A thing that she’d mentioned to him, several times. Instead she’d been put back in the same house and basically had been told that if she fought or tried to run, very bad things would happen to her.

  Which, from what little he knew about the secret societies, sounded exactly up their street.

  The girl walked away then, looking back over her shoulder at him, smiling as she did it. Heading in the direction that he needed to go himself. Not that he was doing that until he had actual cover of darkness. It was overcast out that day and still raining a bit, so night had tried to fall early. It wasn’t enough to cover him from satellite observation yet, however. Or, it probably was, what with the cloud cover.

  The rules said that you didn’t go in until it was night though. Both Ephraim and the car had mentioned that to him. Connor actually respected one of them, so decided to listen to the advice.

  So, sitting there still, damp and more than a bit cold, as well as hungry, Connor waved at the girl as she walked away into the dim evening light. Then he sat there, until the world faded around him, the headlights of the passing vehicle’s all turning on. Even past that, just in case he was being observed by someone.

  If that was the case, then they were going to know where he went, of course. He didn't have the ability to truly cover his tracks in the location he found himself. Really, the only thing he could do in that case, if he were being followed, would have involved simply not going back at all. Just walking away, probably to the closest forest, since he could survive there more easily than inside a city, given his skills.

  Eventually he might be found by the Order. Or not.

  Trying not to look around like he was being followed by government agents, because that really wouldn’t be happening as far as he knew, and no one was close enough to even watch him as he traveled the few blocks to the alley he needed, Connor simply walked to the correct gravel strip. Then he silently, or at least as quietly as he could, moved to the ill painted white garage, opened the big door and ducked under it, closing it up tight before anyone could notice him.

  There was no noise from inside the house, at first, though Ephraim moved into the garage quickly enough that it was clear he had some kind of alarm rigged up on the place. Probably to notify him when the door opened. It had happened the last time as well, so it made sense that something like that was going on. Then, it appeared to be the man’s main occupation in life. Well, that guard duty and whatever else he was doing to make cash on the side.

  No light was turned on, though the man seemed to understand who was there. Connor didn't call out, just trying to find the button on the top of the rounded piece of woodworking machinery. The band saw.

  “Harriman?” The word hung there for a moment, sounding annoyed, as if Connor wasn’t doing the right thing. Still, the other man moved closer to him, probably trying to reach the bandsaw button, not realizing how close that would put him to what was essentially living truth serum. “No one told me that anyone was coming through here. Decide you needed to get out to the store?”

  There was a temptation to lie, since the man wasn’t anyone that needed to know his life’s story that day. Instead, he simply smiled and reached out a bit, touching the man on the arm. Through his shirt sleeve, though that seemed to be enough.

  The pale light through the window showed that the man had a very short beard. It was almost stubble, but managed to reach just beyond that in length, almost as if it was struggling to make itself legitimate. There was gray in the black of it, and the lines on his thin face showed in high contrast for the moment. Probably aging the man, a lot.

  His mouth fell open as the contact happened.

  Connor spoke in hushed tones, not needing any more than that to be heard. Also, not wanting Faith’s mother to run out and shoot him. There had been a warning about that, on their first meeting.

  “Ephraim. How are you getting all the money that you’ve been spending on presents for Magda?” That was Faith’s mom’s name, a thing that had been mentioned more than a few times.

  The answer came easily, since that was how Connor’s ability worked.

  “I’ve been selling the list of who’s coming and going to the Alliance. Ten thousand a month for a few names. They haven’t done anything with it yet even, so I can rationalize to myself that it doesn’t matter. Not that I won’t be killed for it, if the Order finds out. Really, I know better than to do that kind of thing. We all do. Sooner or later it will fuck with the plan.” The words were whispered back. Then, people tended to respond to him in the same fashion he spoke.

  “Ah. Okay, who are you in contact with, then? By name, I mean?”

  “Winston Millet. He’s the Alliance rep for the city here. Um, I go to his shop, down the street, once a month. He cuts hair, so, you know, I get a trim, and pass the envelope with the names in it to him. Then he pays me, in unmarked bills.”

  Connor wasn’t that great about asking all the questions that might be needed, or had at least messed that up the last time he’d been working, so tried to think of what kind of thing would be useful. The trick there was that anything might be, really.

  “How many people are
working with him, do you know?”

  That got a pause, as the man seemed to think, his eyes not focusing at all.

  “I don’t, really. I mean, there are two women that work the shop with him and I’ve seen a few other people in there fairly regularly, but they might not be with the man in the Alliance. I mean, I have Magda and Jennifer here and they don’t know anything about my work with the Order. Well, Mags knows I’m doing something, I think. Not exactly what.”

  Things that both made sense and at the same time hadn’t been asked. Connor had been thinking about the girl and the mother, but hadn’t requested the information at all. Not that it meant he was developing telepathy or anything like that. Magda’s name had come up, which was probably enough to prompt the line of thought.

  So he nodded and ran with it.

  “You love Magda, right?”

  There was a nod from the man. A dumb and slow thing that almost seemed drugged.

  “Yeah. She’s everything to me.

  “But you also keep raping her daughter? Why?”

  That got a shrug from the man, his voice still low. A mere whisper.

  “She’s got a tight ass. Magda only likes to have sex once or twice a week and I need it every day, so I use the girl. Magda’s cool with it. She’s the one that told me to do it in the first place. She even worked out a schedule for when I do the kid and when we get busy together.”

  That was a bit different than Connor had figured would be the case. Faith had mentioned that her mother had to know about the abuse. That wasn’t the same as being the mastermind behind it all in the first place.

  Not that Connor really cared. It wasn’t his business, in particular. The information about the Alliance and Winston Millet, however, was directly related to his new job.

  “Is there anything else I need to know, in relation to the Order or anything else here?”

  There was a shrug then, and the man leaned in, whispering again.

  “Magda is with Ophelia. She told me that, a few years ago. I think she reports on the comings and goings here for them. I’m not certain she knows about it, though. She has alters.”