Not Alone

by Frederic Martin

  Darkness came to make it impossibly more nightmarish. This was how she was going to die. Alone in the darkness. With what energy she had left, she moaned and cried herself to half consciousness until the sudden, harsh, bitter light brought reality back. The reality was Bronco.

  “Hmm, had to pee did you? Sorry about that. I brought you a present to make up for it.” Bronco pulled a paper bag out of his messenger bag and held it up for her to see. “It’s probably not what you think. You’re gonna like it, though. Most people do. In fact, most people pay a lot of money for what I am about to give you.”

  Blue stared blankly at the bag while her brain tried to do some sort of groggy analysis of what it was seeing “Too small for a rubber sheet,” it thought. “Maybe he’s going to suffocate me with a paper bag,” it continued. “Stop it, brain. You’re being stupid.”

  Bronco put the bag down and took something out. It wasn’t a rubber sheet. It was an alcohol wipe, followed by a spoon, a lighter, a little white bag, and some blue gloves. Her brain slowly came out of its stupor as it recognized the objects. When it finally put them all together, her body twitched so suddenly and violently, the chair jumped off the floor. A sound like a whimper tried to force its way through the duct tape.

  “Hey, relax, this is no big deal, it’s just going to calm you down a little. A lot, really. You look like you could use some calming down.”

  He put on the blue gloves and knelt down next to her and unbound her left hand. Then he rolled up the sleeve on her left arm. She pulled her hand away from him, but he patiently and firmly pulled it back. He took a piece of rubber tubing from his bag and wrapped it around her upper arm. He tied the tube firmly around her arm, and she could feel the blocked blood vessels start to throb. The throbbing was rapid. Frantic.

  “You really are too jumpy. I am serious when I say you are going to be happier if you let me do this.” He pulled a flat plastic package from his bag and tore the top off, revealing a fresh hypodermic syringe. “See?” he said. “Nothing to worry about. Just like at a doctor’s office—a sterile fresh needle, and a shot and you are going to feel just fine.” He turned his back on her so she couldn’t see what he did next. He seemed to be preparing something. After a minute an aroma started to fill the room—somewhat sweet and molasses-like. When he turned back around, he had the syringe in his hand and it had a golden liquid in it.

  He reached over and grabbed her wrist to pull her arm back, but she pulled it away again. He sighed and then looked calmly into her eyes and said, “You will put your arm back over here on your own or I will break it. I haven’t got time for this. Which is it going to be?”

  Blue knew she had no choice. She actually wanted to give into his voice. He said that this was just something to calm her down, and she would like it. It wasn’t a rubber sheet, so maybe he wasn’t going to kill her now. She really wanted to believe that. She didn’t even try to spy on his thoughts to see if he was lying. It seemed that he had stopped leaking them anyway. How could he know how to do this? She didn’t care anymore. She was too weak to care. God knows, she could use something to calm her down. He had her. She put out her arm.

  “There we go. Good girl. This isn’t going to hurt that much—you’ve gotten shots before. This is no different. And here, I can do it very professionally—I’m swabbing your arm with alcohol, so you don’t get an infection. That’s the worst thing, when people are stupid and don’t disinfect the injection site. So stupid.”

  Blue let herself get sucked in by Bronco’s calming demeanor. She knew it was all an act, but she didn’t fight it. What did she have left to fight with? Her vox? Vox seemed to be nothing but a lethal disease. A curse.

  He finished swabbing, then looked for a good vein, and artfully stuck the needle in. It pinched a little, but Blue was so numb to anything she didn’t even wince. He pushed down on the syringe plunger and released the tubing at the same time with his free hand. Then he looked straight at her.

  “Goodbye, little demon. Sorry it had to end this way, but that’s the way it goes. I should have just killed you in the park, but for some reason you got under my skin.”

  She stopped breathing. Her addled brain was having trouble grasping what it had just heard. He was killing her! From some reserve deep in her core, an uncontrollable power surged up through her like a volcano. The sound that burst behind her taped up mouth and escaped through her bloodied nose was so shocking and eerie that it made Bronco jump back with a look of fear and panic in his eyes. At the exact same time, a scream slammed through her eyes with such power that it felt like they might explode. “NOOOOO I DON’T WAANNN . . .”

  And then BAM! Her irises slammed shut and reflected her vox scream right back at her, and the power of it snapped her head back. She felt like she was going to vomit, and then the drug hit her like a hot wave. There was a roaring in her ears, and she had the sensation that she was being swept into the air on top of the wave.

  She was dying! Deep inside, there was a part of her that started crying uncontrollably, because this was death and that part of her knew she should be upset. But there was no pain. There was no fear, no terror. The hot wave dissipated gradually, magically, leaving behind a warm, peaceful flow which carried her gently on its soft current. She gradually floated away from the wailing cries of her internal despair. She didn’t mind. That was okay. She settled more and more into the comforting folds of the warm waves and let the soothing undulations lull her slowly towards the realization that this was the calmest she had been in her life. It was relief. It felt like a final reward for putting up with everything she had been through. Death seemed better than life. It was comforting. It was peaceful. There didn’t seem any reason to fight it. No reason at all. So she settled back and relaxed.

  And she let it take her.

  32

  Key Decisions

  Will just kept riding. Riding, riding, riding. Why? He wasn’t sure anymore. It was dark, and he was exhausted. His legs had barely enough energy to push the pedals. It all seemed so pointless. The search was going nowhere and all he was doing was visiting spots he’d been to a thousand times already. The only thing that was keeping him from collapsing was a fragile thread of hope, but hope for what? That he would spot Bronco? He was long gone by now for sure. Maybe spot Jack? As if that would do any good now. To see Blue skipping down the sidewalk? That was just a dead dream now.

  He kept riding anyway. Riding and watching. As he watched, his mind started playing tricks on him. The darkness and exhaustion had turned trees into giant trolls, staring at him with angry bark faces, reaching out with their branches to slap him. He rode past houses that looked at him with their glowing, square eyes, like cubist owls, hooting, “Who, who, who are you looking for?” The concrete sidewalk flowed under his tires like a river of quicksand. It was as if he was standing still and the town was rotating underneath him. Under a bush, he imagined a body with flies buzzing around it. He looked away. Across the street, he saw another crumpled body leaned up against a trashcan. It was just a black trash bag. He saw a ghostlike apparition walking toward him on the sidewalk, glowing faintly. Emanating from the ghost’s eyes was an accusatory voice, “If only you’d come with me . . .” He swerved nervously away from the ghost. It was just a woman dressed in white, walking her dog. He shook his head, trying to banish these weird visions, but that only made his head buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz.

  Shit. It was his phone. He stopped and pulled it out, staring dumbly at it as he slowly came back to reality. He had missed a call. There was a message. His heart leaped, but he wasn’t sure which way it was leaping – toward hope or despair? He hesitated, his finger hovering over the play button. He sucked in a breath and then pushed the button. But it was just his dad saying, “Come home and get some dinner, mom worries about you.” He let his breath out slowly, trying to give himself time to sort out his jumbled emotions. No good news. No bad news. His parents are worried about him. He’s exhausted. He’s hungry. He’s starting to
hallucinate. He should keep going. He should go home. Fuck.

  He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and let his mind drain. A breeze rustled through the leaves over his head. In the distance, a dog barked. A hiss of tires marked a car passing by. The world was going about its business, heedless to the plight of a lost girl, and a boy, straddling a bike, on a street, in a small town, his thoughts in tatters.

  He finally opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Nothing was going to change, no matter how many times he rode around that damn town. He ached to go home and try and find some escape from this nightmare. At least find some solace.

  But he knew he couldn’t. This wasn’t going to be over until it was over. He had to keep going. He lifted his foot onto the pedal. He eased his aching butt back onto the bike seat. He started to push off . . . but was stopped short.

  “nooiiidoonnwann . . .”

  Jesus, he thought. That wasn’t a hallucination. That was real. It was barely detectable but it was definitely a vox.

  He looked around quickly. There was no one nearby. It was faint, so, it had to be from a distance, but what direction? He stared hard for another sound that might give him a clue. Nothing. Where was he, anyway? He was at an intersection. He looked at the road signs. The vox could have reflected from that. The cross street was Pine Street. It was as good a guess as any. He took off down the block scanning side to side, but he saw and heard nothing. He reached the end of the block and stopped. There was no way the vox came from any farther away. His only choice was to go back and try another street. Just as he started to turn around, he spotted someone walking towards him.

  Jesus, it was Jack! Will started to call out, but caught himself. There was a chance that Jack would recognize him and bolt. He ducked into a driveway and hid behind a hedge. He peeked over the hedge and saw Jack stop in front of an apartment building. Will quietly laid his bike down and crept along the hedge until he was directly across the street from Jack. Jack stood in front of the apartment looking down its sidewalk at the front door.

  This was more than coincidence. The vox and then Jack standing in front of an apartment? Will was having a hard time containing a growing excitement that he may have found where Blue was. But what should he do now? Should he wait? Was Jack going to go into the apartment? Apparently not because Jack suddenly turned on his heel and headed back down the street the way he came. Damn! Now where was he going? Will started to follow when he spotted another person coming down the driveway of the house next door to the apartment building.

  Jesus. It was Bronco.

  “Hey Jack,” said Bronco, as casual as could be.

  Jack turned and saw Bronco come down the driveway. “Hey, Br– Hey man, what’s happening,” “shit, I can’t back out now.” Will picked up Jack’s chiss. What did Jack want to back out of?

  “Not much, you want to come in and have a drink?” said Bronco.

  “Okay, sure. Thanks, man.”

  Bronco took Jack by the shoulder, like an old buddy and led him back down the sidewalk to the apartment. He opened the apartment door, and the light from the hallway poured out onto the walk. Will tried to get a look at what was inside, but Jack and Bronco blocked the view. The door shut and then Will was alone outside once again.

  Shit! This had to be it! He had to get the police here. Will fumbled for his phone, dropped it, and panicked as he felt around in the grass. God damn it, this was not the time to fuck up, he told himself. He felt a huge rush of relief as his fingers touched the hard plastic case. He opened the phone and tried to get his shaking fingers to tap out the message. He almost screamed in frustration, but he finally forced them to type, “Bronco, 59A Pine Street, hurry.” He hit the send button, watched it go, and then looked up. Nothing had changed, thank God. The scene was the same as before.

  It all seemed so surreal—like a game, and he was almost ready to play the winning card. But winning meant the police getting there and finding Blue safe. How long would it take them to get there? Was she even in the apartment? If she was, what had Bronco done with her, and why did he invite Jack into the apartment? Was Jack in on this? What did Jack mean when he leaked, “I can’t back out now?” Back out of what? What were they going to do?

  Damn it! He had to do something. He was supposed to wait for the police. It was the safe path, for him, but what could happen in that time? What had already happened? He felt exactly like he had the previous night. He had stayed put and let Blue go alone. He had pretended it was all a game and that everything would be okay by morning. Here he was again, but he couldn’t hope everything was going to turn out fine. He wouldn’t do it this time. He was going to do something. Now.

  As soon as he had made this decision, it was like the noise in his head stopped. His head was clear. He was calm. He could think logically. And like magic, it came to him—a distraction—something to get Bronco and Jack out of the apartment. He would run up to the door and bang on it to get their attention and then he would try and get them to chase him. That would at least delay or interrupt whatever they were doing.

  Will moved quickly across the street and found himself at the end of the driveway Bronco had come down. He took a glance up the driveway and noticed that there was a car there, backed in. Somewhere in his head, a brain cell or two were observing that it was odd to back a car into a driveway. The rest of his brain was too busy getting ready to sprint across to the apartment door to pay it much mind. He noted the obstacles between him and the apartment door, looking for a clear path, and then it dawned on him. There was no car in his way. There was no car in Bronco’s driveway. There was one in the house next door and it had been backed in.

  That was Bronco’s car! Blue wasn’t in the apartment, she was in the house! That’s why Bronco was coming from here when he greeted Jack! That’s why he didn’t hesitate to invite Jack into his apartment!

  Will turned and sprinted up the driveway of the house. He glanced in the car as he dashed past it. He could see nothing but a backpack and a duffel bag. He looked at the house. The windows were all dark. It looked like no one was home. He spotted the side entrance and ran up to it. Through the small window in the door, he could see a bit of light creeping out from the bottom of a doorway in a hallway, just inside the entrance.

  He tried the door handle. It was unlocked. He held his breath as he opened it and slipped into the house. He moved quietly down the hallway to the door where the light gleamed underneath. He opened the door as quietly as he could and peeked inside, and took in a sharp breath. It was Blue, there was no doubt about it, but she was slumped unnaturally in a chair, in fact, he couldn’t understand why she was still upright, and then he saw the tape wrapped around every limb, strapping her to the chair as if some medieval surgery was about to take place. He dropped to his knees in front of her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Blue!” he hissed, “wake up!” She didn’t move. Her face was pointed toward the floor. He reached up and tilted her head back with one hand and used his other hand to push against her chest to get her more upright. It was like trying to move a wet bag of sand, but he could see her face clearly now. What he saw made his heart drop right through the floor. Her eyes were barely open and her face looked like she had been painted for some sick ritual. Her mouth was covered with duct tape and her nose was crusted with blood. There was so much terribly wrong here he was having trouble getting his thoughts to go in a straight line. What was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she waking up? A little glint of light drew his eyes toward a table. There, under the soft light of the table lamp, were a couple of empty packets, a lighter, a silver spoon, and an empty syringe.

  Bronco had let Jack in the apartment without any hesitation, so Jack was already getting a feeling like the first scenario—the one where he was going to find nothing—was going to be the right one.

  “So you need more dope?” asked Bronco once they were inside and the door was closed.

  That’s not why Jack was really there, but he decided he better make it seem like that was w
hy he was there.

  “Yeah, man. Not much, though, I’ve only got a hundred bucks.”

  “No problem.” Bronco reached behind him and then put a fat envelope on the table. Jack thought briefly that it seemed odd that Bronco would have all that dope that handy, but he let it go. He just wanted to get a sense that Bronco was not involved with the kidnapping and then get out of there. Bronco handed him the envelope and Jack looked inside. It was a lot of dope.

  “All this for a hundred bucks?”

  “Yeah, why not. It’s your bonus.”

  “Well, I won’t need to see you for a while then,” said Jack.

  “Why? Is business slow?” asked Bronco.

  “Maybe. I went to the park today but couldn’t do any business. There were police all over the place, and a spot was marked off with yellow tape. Looks like the park might be off limits for a while.”

  Bronco appeared unmoved and just said, “Huh, that’s a surprise. Nothing really happens in this town. Was it a murder?”

  “Nah, someone said it was a kidnapping. I didn’t stick around to check it out. They had bloodhounds. I was afraid they’d smell the dope.”

  Bronco sat there nodding, “Yeah, good move. Just wait ’till they’ve figured that one out. You should probably move your business somewhere else.”

  “Yeah, but the park is the best. Listen, thanks for the extra dope, but I gotta go.”

  “You don’t want to stay for a beer?” asked Bronco.

  “No, but thanks. My old man is expecting me and he is a total ass if I’m late.”