Given New Worlds

by Rachael Sircar

  After putting on a final coat of mascara, Abby found that she still had ten minutes. She stepped out of the bathroom and walked to where Sean was dazing in and out of consciousness on the floor.

  “I think you have internal injuries,” she said.

  “Oh really?” He replied sarcastically, then trained his eyes on her for several seconds before his head swiveled away, but not without a wince of pain. “You look just like…”

  She knew what he was thinking. It was the dress. Abby placed her hand on his cheek, the only spot she could find that didn’t have some sort of contusion, but then, there may have been something hidden under the beard and it was possible that his entire body was just one big injury.

  “I don’t, Sean. I’m nothing like that girl.” She adjusted the dress and sat down next to him. “I’m stronger, I’m braver, and I’m not afraid anymore.”

  “Maybe you should be.”

  “Afraid of pain? Yes. But I refuse to be afraid of what I don’t know. I will not let these people intimidate me like they did my father.”

  Sean’s face turned back to her. “He told you, didn’t he?”

  Abby nodded. “My mom doesn’t know.”

  Sean laughed, then coughed up another ounce of blood, “She knows.”

  Abby wiped the blood off his lips with her dress. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Aha!” Diego called from the back of the room. “You’re ready early. What a treat.” He stopped and tipped his head. “No. This isn’t right at all.” He walked towards the bathroom with an angry look on his face.

  Abby wondered if he was talking about her wiping Sean’s blood on the skirt of her dress, but then he came out holding a hair clip very similar to the one she had been wearing the night of the party. “I want your hair off your back, you know, to see my handiwork.” He tossed the clip to her and for a moment, Abby wondered if there were any way to kill him with it. The weak plastic was pliable in her hands. The only defense it would be were to strands of hair that threatened to escape in a mighty wind.

  She glanced at Sean and noticed that he once again had his eyes closed.

  She shifted away from Sean and stood. Gathering her hair in a twist at the back of her head, while ignoring the pain that cut like knives into her scalp from her fall at the waterfall ramp, she clipped it up, providing a full view of the scars for Diego’s perusal. She heard him approach, and felt his fingers trace over the letters, each touch sending revulsion through her veins. Once his fingers left her skin, she allowed herself to breathe again.

  Then, the harsh texture of jewelry slid across her skin. She leaned over to pull away, but he grabbed her neck and pinched at a pressure point until her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. “It took several weeks to get it out of him,” Diego said, dragging her back off the floor by her neck. “But the amount your boyfriend spent on this shit, plus the fact that he’s a sentimental ass, I always knew that he’d kept it.”

  Abby couldn’t fathom what he was saying, but then the jewels slid once again around her neck. It was the necklace Sean had given her, the one that had been shipped to her in Nairobi, the one that Sean had supposedly thrown in the incinerator of the hotel.

  Diego fixed the clasp against her neck. “One of the earrings is broken, so you won’t be wearing those. Such a shame.” His fingers again began to trace the letters on her back.

  Without flinching, Abby slowly turned her head. “Get your hands off me.”

  Diego chuckled. “Yes. I agree. Plenty time left for that after the show.”

  He stood and held his hand out towards Abby, “Come now. Let’s have dinner.”

  She glanced back at Sean, who still had his eyes closed, then stood up and walked towards Diego, rebuffing his stretched hand. He made his way to the door from which he’d entered and held it open for her. She hesitated leaving Sean but knew that he would only tell her to go. So, with one glance back at his pinched face, she left the room and followed Diego. They walked through a hallway to an ornate dining room, very different from the dingy room in which Sean was confined.

  Upon entering the room, Diego nodded to the men from earlier. “Mendoza, Bennet, take Court back to his suite, give him a meal and set him in front of the TV.”

  They grunted and walked out of the dining room, batons in hand. Abby waited for the sound of Sean fighting them back, but only heard him cry out in pain several times. No sound of altercation.

  Diego motioned towards the table. “Sit. Let’s eat first.”

  Abby looked at the table. There were two place settings along with several covered platters in the middle of the table. She knew that she didn’t have the stomach to ingest a meal, but her legs were shaky, and sitting on a chair would definitely provide her with more stability then her own bare feet. She saw plastic silverware next to the plates, surely to prevent her from stabbing him with it, but she considered the possibility that it could take out an eye.

  He leaned against the table and watched as Abby sat. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “And I’d love to see you try.” His gaze flitted towards the plasticware and back to her face. No, that wouldn’t be a viable solution.

  He used a plastic serving spoon to dish chicken and rice on to her plate. The smell was so much like Sandra’s recipe, Abby could almost close her eyes and pretend that she wasn’t dining with a madman, but instead, sitting at Frank and Sandra’s table, enjoying a meal with Kin and Caleb dancing around her. She wondered how they were doing, how they would react to her death. She shook her head and offered up another prayer.

  A buzz sounded on a table near a barred window. “Stay right there,” Diego said, stepping away from the table. “Eat your food.”

  She poked at the rice with a plastic spork watching Diego out of the corner of her eye while scanning the room for anything she could use a weapon. The space was essentially bare, but for the table, chairs, and sideboard on which Diego’s phone had been placed. He was currently looking at it with an indifferent expression, but not making a move to answer. When the phone ceased ringing, he walked back to the table and sat. “You’re only pushing the food around the plate, not eating.”

  Abby glanced up at him but didn’t bring the food to her mouth.

  “Suit yourself, I suppose it doesn’t matter either way.”

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINE

  ONCE Diego had had his fill of dinner, he walked to the sideboard and tapped at his phone. “It’s time. Let’s go.” He walked towards another door at the end of the dining room and motioned for Abby to follow. But she no longer had the energy, nor the desire to follow his demands.

  Diego paused at the door and narrowed his eyes at her. “I said let’s go.”

  She continued to sit, holding a piece of bread, this time taking the time to pull it apart and place pieces in her mouth. She didn’t flinch when Diego strode towards her. “I have a schedule to keep. Now move.” He grabbed her arm, but she twisted away, then turned and spat the masticated bread at him.

  He only laughed, wiping it from his face. “Mistake,” he huffed, then dove into her, pushing Abby back off the chair. She scrambled to get out from under him, but he was quick and strong. She ended up on her stomach with her arms in his tight grip behind her back. “I said let’s go,” he growled into her ear, then painfully lifted her by the arms to a standing position. She should have remembered from her interaction with him two years ago how adept he was at hand to hand combat, how she’d tried the many defense moves that Veena had shown her but had still ended up hanging from the wall with her back decorated in carved skin. He pushed her forward towards the door, jerking her up every time she tripped over the long dress. When he propelled her into the darkened room, he closed the door behind him and pressed his hand to a pad on the side of the frame. It beeped, and she heard a lock click into place. “Let’s watch the show, shall we?”

  He shoved Abby towards a couch that sat in the center of the room and walked to a counter in the back. After pressing
several buttons on a set-in display, a large monitor appeared in the wall in front of her. Abby wedged herself into the corner of the couch and watched as he typed into a keyboard.

  “Shouldn’t be long now.” The monitor flicked to the image of a city street. Abby adjusted her eyes to the light and saw that it was the cross avenue several streets down from Sean’s apartment. “Let me set the scene for you,” Diego said, walking to the monitor. He pointed to a rectangular image in the center of the screen. “This is the mobile operations center in which your little NSA friends have decided to position themselves. I would have thought they’d have moved it once you disappeared, but I guess they decided to smoke a few before moving on.” He glanced down at his watch, then lifted his chin to the screen. “Here we go.” Abby watched traffic flow on the streets, wondering what it was that Diego wanted her to see.

  Then, the screen filled with light and Abby watched as the RV became a cloud of orange, white, and black. She couldn’t help but cover her eyes, not wanting to see the results of the explosion.

  “That was awesome,” Diego chuckled quietly beside her. “Okay, next show.” He walked back towards the keyboard and clicked at the trackpad. An image of Sean’s apartment building came into view. “This is just in case we missed a few. I was originally going to blow up your boyfriend along with his condo, but he’s proven to be an amusing diversion the past few weeks. Plus, it’ll be fun to see him squirm when I finish you off.” Abby shuddered and sank lower into the couch. “It’s amazing what you can do with a little C-4.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Abby asked, her voice only a fragment of noise in the room.

  “You should know by now,” Diego laughed. “It’s been written on your back for the past two years. Nice of you to keep it fresh for me, I thought for sure your precious mother would have arranged for her plastic surgeons to have it removed by now. But, I suppose you must have a bit of our family trait. Revenge runs strong with the Bianchi’s.”

  Abby jerked her head, looking away from him towards the wall.

  “You still don’t believe me, do you? You are my sister. Well, half-sister anyway. My dad got busy with your mom several months before your parents were married. It’s still undetermined whether she had consented to it or not, but that’s none of my business.” Diego chuckled again.

  Abby thought about the letter her dad had written. The one she’d burned.

  For so many years, I had thought that you took after your mother, but now I see that you take after me. It may not be the typical father/daughter bond, but it is stronger than any other you could have had. Blood isn’t necessarily thicker than water. Through my actions, you have inherited my stubborn, belligerent nature.

  Dad had been telling her then. She pressed the palms of her hands against her tear-streaked eyes, trying to gain a sense of that nature.

  “Ah, here we go. Let’s take a look-see.”

  She didn’t have to look. Abby could see the reflection of the screen light up in the polished wood of the walls around her. She knew that whoever had been living in the floors near Sean’s apartment were now in a raging inferno. Tears slid down Abby’s face and she fed her mind Psalms, Proverbs, and words of the Gospel, begging God to save the innocent victims Diego was attacking, and possibly help Sean as well. She no longer cared about herself. She would gladly give her own life for all those that were currently suffering from Diego’s ministrations.

  “Okay. Now time for the grand finale. Take a look.”

  She couldn’t. Instead, Abby tucked her face into the leather of the couch and closed her eyes to the horror behind her. She felt Diego’s hand grasp her by the back of the neck and spin her head around. “I said look.” Abby fought his hand, but he only gripped her neck tighter, shooting pain through the nerves, forcing her to comply. On the screen was an overhead image of her parent’s estate.

  “This is very exciting,” Diego said. “It’s all live, you know. Drones are so much fun. But we couldn’t find a heavy lifting drone capable of carrying enough firepower for this task, so I’ve arranged for a helicopter to do the deed. Yep. There it is. See it in the distance?” He jerked Abby’s neck again, sending a bolt of pain through her head. She looked up and saw a small dot in the sky. It was dusk, and the sun was settling in the distance. It would have been a beautiful picture but for the foreboding sense of what was about to happen. She knew that her mom and dad were home. It had been assumed that the estate would be the safest place for them. Little did anyone know that they were dealing with the crazy man now forcing her to watch her own parents’ deaths.

  Sobs began to form in her chest and she felt tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “I wouldn’t be too upset,” Diego said. “He’s not really your dad anyway. So you’re really only losing half your parents. You should be glad I’m blasting her out of existence. If she’d come back to my father, we would never have had these problems.”

  Abby watched as the helicopter approached the estate. It was like a movie, fiction, only the effects of CG and the director’s imagination, not her mother and father. She watched the helicopter drop something large and gray onto the house. It fell through the roof above Abby’s bedroom, then all time seemed to stop. Maybe it didn’t work. Maybe it was all a joke. But then, light.

  Light, and colors, and dark, and smoke. Her home destroyed. Her parents killed. Abby curled into a ball and pressed her knuckles into her eyes.

  “All righty, then. That’s enough fun for you tonight. Now time for my entertainment. Let’s go get your boyfriend.”

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TEN

  ABBY felt her body jerk with adrenaline. She rushed towards Diego and shoved him against the wall. Then she scratched, punched, and kicked with everything she had. But again, she was no match for him, and he had her on the floor within seconds. “None of that now. You’re going to ruin your dress. And I certainly don’t want that. I want to be the one to ruin that piece of material.”

  “You’re sick,” Abby growled from the floor. “Didn’t you just get done saying that I was your sister.”

  Diego laughed, and he dragged her off the floor and slammed her against the wall. “Do you really think that’s what I want? To fuck you? No, sweet sister. I wouldn’t think of it. I just want to see your skin hanging from your body in shreds, your muscles clearly flexing in pain and agony, your blood pouring from your veins. That’s what I want. I can’t ever get my mom back, but I can certainly send you to the grave with her.”

  Diego pressed his hand into the pad beside Abby’s head and she heard the lock click open. She glanced around the dining room and saw that it was exactly the same as they had left it. She dove towards the table, grabbed a plastic serving spoon, broke the head off and ran to the other side of the room, near the sideboard. Diego laughed. “You’re going to stab me with a spoon handle? I don’t think so.”

  He approached slowly, and Abby gripped the handle with sweating palms. Once he came within several feet, she shifted on her feet and slid past the sideboard, towards the other end. Diego matched her stride and caught her as she ducked beside it. She jabbed at him with the spoon, but he deflected it before she could react. Pain shot through her forearm and she spun towards the wall, sinking to her knees.

  Diego’s laugh once again paraded through her ears, but she ignored it. Instead, she pressed at the cell phone she had discreetly grabbed off the sideboard when he’d lunged for her. It was a brand she was unfamiliar with, but the words RETURN CALL were clearly displayed on the front, so Abby tapped it before turning down the volume and sliding the phone into the bodice of her dress. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Diego placed the broken spoon handle neatly on the table. “Nice try, though. You’ve got some balls, sister. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I suppose. Now get your ass over here. It’s going to be a long night, and I’d like to get started.”

  “No. I’m not going with you.”

  “That darn voice of yours,” Diego said, and approached where sh
e was crouched down next to the sideboard. “I can’t hear a word you say. Now get up and walk.”

  “Why would I walk willingly to my own death?”

  “Because you have no choice. Let’s go.” He yanked her hair back and pulled her to standing.

  “If what you’re saying is true,” she squeezed out while he dragged her towards the other room. “Then won’t your dad be mad about what you’re doing to his only daughter?”

  Diego rounded on her and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. “He’s not going to find out. You’ll be dead. It’s bad enough he found out about what I did two years ago. I should have finished the job.”

  “He wants me dead?” She asked.

  “You’re an idiot. He wants you scared and he wants your dad scared. He certainly achieved that. He only wants to use me as a distraction. Well, the NSA is a hell of a lot distracted now, aren’t they?”

  “It seems a little over the top. I doubt he wanted you to blow up half the city. How long will it take until they track the weapons back to you?”

  “Enough of this shit.” Diego turned towards the door. “Mendoza!”

  The big, burly guy that had pushed her into the bathroom earlier appeared. “Is Court back in place?” Diego asked.

  “There’s been a complication,” Mendoza said.

  “Is Court dead?”

  Abby felt the floor shake beneath her, the pain of Diego’s fingers in her hair the only thing keeping her from losing focus on reality.

  “No. Not yet anyway.”

  “So, no problem, right?”

  “Bennet’s down.”

  A muscle in Diego’s cheek flexed as he clenched his jaw. “Did Court do it?” He asked.

  Mendoza nodded his head.

  “Is Bennet dead?”

  “Broken knee, possible collapsed lung.”

  “And Court?”

  “Haven’t had a chance to deal with him yet.”