Silenced

by Natasha Larry

  “Damnit.” I punch the circular desk and close my eyes.

  I stay like that for a few moments, when the sound of feet slipping on the floor meets my ears. My head snaps up. Jameson is making a run for it. I smile and whistle.

  Not that kind of whistle. He isn’t mine. Yet. But, for some reason he does stop and turn before he reaches the door.

  I stroll closer to him. “Where ya going, there?”

  Jameson backs into the glass double doors. His face is almost purple. “Come on, man. You don’t need to do this.”

  He isn’t wrong. Not that it’s going to help him.

  “Why don’t you step away from the door?” I hold my hand out to him. “I promise it won’t hurt.”

  His face contorts into what can only be disgust. “Fuck you if you think it’s going to be that easy.”

  I want to laugh, but I don’t see the upside of being a dick.

  “Okay, man, just relax.”

  “Nah, fuck you, asshole.” His murky gray eyes narrow at me. “You don’t tell me shit. Fucker.” He spits at my feet. “And what you gon’ go and kill me for? To fight for the wrong side, that’s why.”

  That gets a pause from me. I don’t know what passes across my face, but whatever it is must amuse Jameson because he laughs.

  “Or are you too stupid to know that you’re on the wrong side?”

  I wince and grab for him. My hand closes into a fist around his neck, and his eyes bulge. He beats at my arms. I barely feel it as I drag him closer.

  “Of course I know it,” I hiss into his face before letting him go.

  He stumbles forward, gagging and gasping for breath. I watch him for a few moments. For some reason, the longer I watch, the angrier I get. The longer I watch, the longer his words have to bounce around in my head. Finally, I grit my teeth and grab him by the collar again.

  “Come on, man,” he says as I drag him away from the door. “Please, please don’t do this.”

  “Shut it.” I slam him into the wall on our right, farthest from the door.

  His expression falls, and his lips begin to tremble. “P… Please. I have a d…a daughter.”

  I place my hands on either side of his head. “I said shut the fuck up!” Saliva sprays him in the face. I clamp my hand over his mouth. “Don’t say another frickin’ word.” I’m breathing hard. I have no idea why I’m letting this guy get to me. But he’s getting to me. I have to get this done.

  I have to get it done quick.

  I can’t think about his innocent daughter bawling because a monster killed her daddy. I can’t think about the fact that what he said to me is true.

  I can’t.

  And yet, I am.

  “Fuck!” I clamp my hand harder over his mouth.

  He lets out a tiny whimper, which only works to piss me off.

  “Do it,” I mutter to myself as Jameson’s eyes bulge.

  Just fucking do it.

  You need the juice.

  He’ll die anyway.

  Nothing you can do.

  “Fuck!” My scream bounces off the walls. I press my hand into his face hard enough to leave a handprint, then push away from him. “Fuck!” I punch the wall next to him, then cover my face with an arm.

  He starts panting. Then, his feet pound against the floor as he runs. I look up.

  Dumbass.

  Why is he running that way?

  I take off after him. His hand is on the knob. He’s about to push it outward.

  No.

  Before he can make another move, I pucker up and whistle. His body thuds to the ground at the same moment a bullet pierces the glass. Shards fall like jagged hail all around us.

  I keep whistling, taking all of him into me. I breathe him in and bury the pain.

  There wasn’t a damn thing I could do.

  I take him into me and forget the fear and guilt.

  He was dead, anyway.

  When I’m done with him, I glance up and meet Juliet’s icy eyes. Both of her hands are over her ears. A gun is folded up in her right fist.

  I stop the song and straighten. Glass crunches under my feet as I move out to meet her, Kiwi, and Tripp and Lee.

  There never seems to be a damn thing I can do.

  We’re on the road for a little over an hour before Tripp announces he has to take a piss. They are the first words anyone has uttered since we set out this morning, or at least the first words I’ve noticed. Kiwi speaks in to her wrist comm and relays the information to the other two vehicles.

  A few minutes later, we pull over to the side of the road. I get out and the harsh sun wraps around me and squeezes. Despite the fact that it’s still early morning, the sun is high, punching the landscape with its heat. I start to sweat almost as soon as I’m outside. Using my hand to shield my eyes from the sun, I stumble away from the car and head for the back of the last vehicle in our convoy.

  When I get there, I see Lee has the same idea. He gives me a tight smile, which I return, then trudge a few feet away from him. Once I’m far enough away, I whip it out and relieve myself right there on the pavement.

  A throat clears. My heart punches against my ribcage, and I look up, startled. I freeze when I see what’s in front of me.

  It’s a woman. An older woman. She is draped in a long, light blue gown that hits the ground. She has a matching, silk bonnet wrapped around her head and her skin is onyx. Her eyes are the strangest I’ve ever seen. They look like two milky pools. The contrast against her skin is unsettling.

  I gulp, still holding Pike junior in my hands.

  “Pike Richards, you seem to be finished. Put that away so we can have a little chat.” Her voice is smooth and soothing, despite the freakish fashion in which she just showed up out of nowhere.

  I’m frozen. Unable to move. I dart my eyes back behind her to see if my group is okay. I’m shocked to find that they are frozen as well.

  Literally.

  I blink and slowly tuck my dick away. I peer at Tripp, who is the tallest. He is frozen in the midst of zipping up his suit. Slowly, I train my gaze back to the woman. I open my mouth, intending to ask if she’s responsible for the involuntary game of freeze tag, but for some reason, nothing comes out.

  “I am Salya,” the woman says.

  Hearing her speak is disconcerting. First, there’s a rush of power in that voice that makes me want to run like a small girl. And then there’s the fact it’s one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve heard in a hot minute. She makes me realize how much I miss the beauty in things.

  I take a few steps back and nod. All I can do is stare at her like a full on mantard. After a few moments of me not saying anything passes, she laughs.

  “I’ve startled you.” She walks toward me.

  I try and back away but find myself rooted in place. I glance down at my feet and try jerking them up. No luck. When I look back up, the woman is almost on top of me. She reaches out a knobby, bone-thin hand and strokes my cheeks.

  “My. Look at those beautiful, swirling blue eyes. Reminds me of the seas. So powerful.” She pulls her hand back. “You recently feed.”

  My eyes narrow. “Who…” I scratch my eyebrow with my pinky nail. “What are you?”

  Instead of answering, she just smiles again. “It’s hotter than the sea of souls in the Underworld.”

  She waves her hands, and her sleeves billow. As soon as she does, my stomach lurches toward my toes and I get the sensation that I’m falling.

  Then, I land on something soft. I grip the arm of a couch and dart my head around in quiet panic.

  I am not where I was.

  I have no idea where I am.

  “Tea?” The woman—Salya—appears in front of me holding a steaming cup.

  My mouth drops open and I wave her away.

  “No. What the…” I glance around.

  I seem to be in a room. On a couch. There are maroon walls and earth-toned furniture.

  The woman sits across from me in an oversized chair and crosses
her legs. “I thought this would be more comfortable.”

  I rest my gaze on her and try to breathe normally. As calm as I can, I say, “Take me back. Now.”

  She laughs again. It freaks me out. Reminds me of beauty, yet makes me feel like pissing my pants.

  “I will take you back, Pike. As soon as I have a talk to you about your fate.”

  As soon as I hear the word fate, I jump up and point an accusing finger at her.

  “Oh, hell no. Take me back. Now.” I snarl the command down into her face.

  She just folds her hands and smiles up at me like I’ve just offered her the most wonderful compliment in the world.

  “Pike, please. Calm down. Have a seat.” She gestures at the couch behind me.

  “Sit down my ass.” I scoff. “You’re one of them. You’re a frickin’ fate.”

  “Astute.” She smiles again. “I can see why my sisters like you.”

  I start to pace. “Your sisters, huh?”

  “Yes,” she says in that lyrical voice. “They’re all rooting for you.”

  “Great.” I gesture in front of me with my arms. “Send me back.”

  “You seem nervous, Pike.”

  I stop pacing and laugh as I face her. “I don’t want to know my fate.”

  She nods as if she is used to hearing this, and she probably is. Nobody likes it when a fate turns up. Whatever they tell you is pretty much set in stone. And it’s rarely good news. No one knows if this is because they are all-knowing, or because they have some kind of messed up power to alter circumstance so that their premonitions come true.

  I’m a fan of the latter theory, but I’ve always been a cynic.

  “You’re in a very…monumental position, Pike.”

  I turn and face her. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning… no one has been in a position to alter the course of history in such a significant way in quite a while.” She touches the small pearl earring attached to her lobe. “I’ve come to offer guidance.”

  I start to pace again. “I don’t want any guidance. I just want to get back and do what I gotta do.”

  I don’t hear her move, but now she is in front of me, grasping my hands between her own. She peers up into me with those silky eyes, and I freeze.

  “I implore you to reconsider,” she says.

  For a moment, I can’t move. Just like when she first showed up. All I can do is stare into those moving eyes, trapped under their power. My mouth slowly starts to open. I try and pull away from her, but I can’t.

  “I ask you again, Pike Richards.” Her smile is slow. “Would you like to hear your fate?”

  My mouth is all the way open. I’m trying to form words with a dead tongue. Beads of sweat curve down my nose. It occurs to me that this is how they get things done. Nobody with half a brain would consent to hearing what a fate has to say because nobody wants to know how it’s all going to play out.

  And a fate can’t tell you shit unless you give them permission. Kinda like vampires, only they really exist and they don’t just want into your house.

  They want into your destiny.

  Her smile is almost blinding by the time I find the strength to pull away. I turn away from her to catch my breath. When I look up, she is there again.

  “No.” I point my finger into her face. I realize I need to slow my roll. Fates are no joke. “With all due respect,” I say with a change in tone. “Please send me back. I don’t want to know.”

  Her face falls. “May I ask why?”

  “Because I have the funny feeling that you’re going to tell me I’m going to die… or something worse.” I clench my jaw. “And I can’t… I can’t think about that. I need to get this done.”

  She nods slowly, then pulls me into a hug. It’s uncomfortable and soothing at the same time. I tighten every muscle in my body, trying not to let any emotion seep out.

  Finally, she lets go. “As you wish. I shall send you back.”

  I nod, about to say something like damn straight, when a thought occurs to me.

  “Hey, wait a second.”

  She lifts her gaze to mine.

  “Can you… I mean, would it be possible for you to tell me…someone else’s fate?”

  She smiles in a knowing way. Seconds later, she is right in front of me again. With a pat on the hand, she says, “No, my dear.”

  “Oh.” I look at my dirt encrusted boots. “Alright.”

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  I glance up and shrug. “We’re good.”

  She reaches out and rubs my shoulder. “Okay, are you ready to get back to it?”

  Hell no, I think. Instead of saying it out loud, I give a tight smile and nod. Moments later, I get the sensation that I’m flying. Before I know it, I’m on my feet, stumbling in the hot sun.

  The heat turns the surroundings into waves.

  “Hey, Pike! You ready to go now?” Tripp’s voice echoes in my ears.

  He is the only one standing outside of the convoy. I hurry toward him and duck into the car after him. As I strap on my safety harness, I look around at everyone else. They all seem pretty clueless.

  When we start up, I stare out of the tinted window and try not to think about what the fate wanted to tell me.

  I take a small swig from my canteen and watch the quickly shifting landscape from my window. We’ve gone from brown earth to dead black, and now, a deep, unnatural purple. The trees have grown thicker and almost humanoid, with branches reaching out as if to grab at anything that gets near them. The sky has lost its blue and taken on gray hue with rolling red clouds racing across the surface. After an hour or so in the car we come to a stop.

  “We take it on foot from here.” Juliet turns around from where she sits in the driver’s seat. “An armored van will meet us at our next checkpoint. Make sure to grab as much food and water as you can carry. Just in case.”

  Slowly, we all step out into the rancid air. It’s not hot anymore, but the wind is thick with smell. Like a paper factory is near and hard at work. I let Tripp get out, then reach in and pull out all of my crap and hoist it on.

  “Ready to get some exercise, beauty?” Tripp asks as we head back to the car holding the food and water.

  “Why you keep calling me that, man?”

  He grins as we stop in a line behind Lee and Kiwi. “Because you look so lovely when you sleep.”

  I laugh. It’s a tired, worn laugh, but it’s still a laugh. “You’re a dumbass.”

  “I’ll take that as high flattery coming from you.”

  “It is, man.” I clap him on the shoulder. “It is.”

  As Kiwi and Juliet step aside, Tripp moves in to load his pack up with supplies. When he’s done, he hands food and water back to me and I stuff in as much as my pack will fit. I trail the group back to the first car, wondering why we have to make this part of the trip on foot. As soon as we’re all in front of the car, I no longer have to wonder.

  “Shit burger,” I mutter, taking in the stretch of land reaching out in front of us.

  If you can call it land. It looks more like a watered down wasteland. Literally. Cars, buses, and hunks of buildings float in a sea of purplish water. It’s the same purple of the land, and it’s the most eerie thing I’ve ever seen.

  “So, when you said on foot, you meant we swim for it?” Kiwi stares out in front of her with an expression as daunted as I feel.

  “Yes.” Juliet gestures toward something hanging off her belt. It looks almost like a key ring and it’s attached to a thin, clear string. “If you’ll pull on this, and make sure you have all your belongings, we can head out. According to Scouters, this stretch of the trip will take about two hours.”

  I close my eyes. “Shit. Burger.”

  Something that sounds like air being pumped into tires snaps my eyes open. I glance at Tripp, who has a long finger hooked through a keychain-looking thing on his belt. His Kevlar vest has inflated into a floatation device.

  I glance down at my own belt and do t
he same. The fabric tightens, then balloons out across my chest.

  Juliet claps, bringing my focus back to her. “Is everyone ready?”

  We all just stare at her, so she nods politely, and turns on her heels. As she saunters away, we slowly follow. For a few minutes we are on pavement, but soon enough, water laps around our ankles.

  “This is bullshit,” I mutter.

  Beside me, Tripp laughs. “Try not to think of it as swimming through a watery hell. Think of it more as a nice day at the beach.”

  I glance sidelong at him. “You on that Orc shit?”

  He chuckles again. “No, beauty. I’m just in a good mood.”

  My mouth gapes open as the water rushes in around my knees. “How?”

  He shrugs. “How could I not be? We’re out, saving the world.”

  Now I laugh. The water is swiftly approaching chest level. Only Tripp’s ass could focus on only the positive given our situation.

  “Alright, shoestring. I’ll try and look at it your way.”

  I clear my head and try to picture a beach, with hot bitches in bikinis rubbing me down with sun block. I try not to think about how this thick, nasty water is now at my throat.

  Hot bitches and beaches. Hot bitches and beaches. I say it over and over again in my head.

  After a while, it becomes impossible to stay within the safe confines of my freaky daydream. After a while, shit gets real.

  What feels like hours later, I throw an arm onto the hood of a submerged van and let out an exhausted grunt. I spit out a mouthful of soupy water and have to scrabble to maintain my grip on the slippery metal.

  “I gotcha,” Tripp says behind me in a hoarse voice.

  A hand grabs my ass while another grips me on the upper thigh. Soon, I’m being boosted up out of the water. I gasp my relief and crawl off the hood and onto the top of the van. Once there, I throw a hand down to Tripp, who waves me off. In three quick movements, he is seated beside me.

  At this point, I could give a shit about manhood. I flop down on the top of the van and suck in air like an eager stripper tucks dollar bills into a G-string.