Broken Sky

by Saurav Dutt

  “What is that?” she asked, surprised by the assortment of green, pink, blue and purple pills, knowing that she would do anything to swallow just one of those pills as long as it destroyed the side splitting pain raging through her head.

  “Throw back a couple of these honey” Drago smiled as he snaked his way over to her, beckoning her to take a seat beside him on a tatty sofa chair. He emptied the contents of the packet out onto his outstretched greasy palm, and delicately filtered through them, eventually settling on a bright yellow and lime combination. She picked them off and dropped them gently into the roof of her mouth, sucking on them slowly like lozenges. The effect was instantaneous, a kaleidoscope of blurry images streaked across her line of vision, melting into hues of bright orange and blue. Drago’s face seemed to stretch apart, like an elastic rubber band being extended to breaking point.

  “Not bad, huh?” Drago smiled as he waltzed over to a beaten chest of drawers, yanking open the second compartment to reveal a thin black leather zip case. He made his way back to his seat and slowly loosened the zip, carefully taking out a needle.

  “No I don’t want that now…” she said slowly, the pain subsiding in her head momentarily as she leant back into the seat.

  “It’s been too long since you tried some good shit, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Drago reassured her with a wink.

  As she leant back, his eyes glazed over as he stared at her up and down. His gaze fixed on her chest and his fingers moved forward to the buttons of her shirt. “So like you know, that you don’t have any money..” he whispered “…well y’know there are other ways to pay me, and you’re one fine lookin’ lady.”

  “No..” she murmured, tremors running through her body as he slipped his fingers in between the buttons of her shirt and massaged her breast. “You want more shit from me” Drago sneered “then you do what I say.” he added as he squeezed her nipple, which had now hardened, and promptly flicked open the button.

  Pinning her against the sofa, the other spare hand gently clasped her neck and stroked her. “Get off me…” she panted, feeling her strength ebbing away as he licked his lips. The room now felt smaller, the walls squeezing together as the thumping pain in her head suddenly became as light as a feather.

  “You’re feeling better already ain’t ya?” he observed motioning to the packets atop the table “you want some more of that shit?” She pushed the hand away from her throat, rising uncertainly from the seat only to be violently jerked back down. “You’re in my house now” Drago shook his head “you abide by my rules… now undress for me.”

  “I’ll pay you later, I promise..” she trailed off as she tried to collect her bearings. As she leant forward she noticed a speck of blood fall upon her knee, and then another. She inhaled slowly and realised the blood was oozing out from her right nostril. Bringing a hand up to her nose, she realised some was trickling down from the left as well.

  “I don’t deal in promises” Drago replied as he ran his fingers across her hair, noticing the large scar on her forehead, “but you’re not leaving here without paying me, and I told you before..I’m open for negotiation.”

  His hand tightened around her hair as he dragged her head down so that her cheek slapped against his midriff. His other hand wrapped around the rear of her neck and steadily brought her face downwards until it was just above his groin. “Unzip me” he smiled; his breathing deeper as he bit down on his lip.

  “I said get off me…” she whimpered, her voice muffled as her lips pressed against the waistline of his trousers. His right hand smacked across the back of her skull as he stomped his feet. “You stupid bitch” he snarled “I’m not gonna ask you again, you come here and want to smoke my shit, and I don’t complain..now I want something from you and you get uppity with me..unzip me now you little whore.”

  As her fingers slowly gripped onto his zipper, Drago let out a whine of pleasure as he leant his head back.

  Her fingers trembled as she heard the metal stroke down the material of his pants and she felt his grip loosen around her neck as he exhaled loudly. “Go on” he whispered “do it..”

  As he spread his legs, his grip stiffened around her neck and she turned her eyes away as she saw the bulge in his grey underwear shudder against the woollen material. The throbbing in her head returned, slamming against the sides of her skull like a jackhammer. “I need” she panted, pointing towards the table with her other hand “I need some more shit”

  “No” Drago hissed “do it first…now”

  “I can do it better if I can get some more..” she pleaded, feeling around her waistline for the gun she had stashed there. She felt its cold hard barrel pressed against her sweating skin and moved her face away from his crotch.

  “Fine” Drago sighed, shooting up from his seat as he angrily fastened his zipper. He marched over to the table, snatching up a handful of packets only to turn around and see her seated, pointing a gun straight up at him.

  “I’m leaving now” she said “I know how to use this so don’t move an inch closer.”

  “Where did you get that?” Drago scowled, his free hand slinking down towards his pocket.

  “Keep your hands up you asshole” she snapped, slowing rising to her feet as she cocked the hammer of the gun back, realising that it was snarled within her sweaty palm. Drago raised his hands slowly, peering at her as he slowly brushed his greasy hair back from his sweating forehead.

  “So you watched a lot of TV” he sniggered “don’t mean you know how to shoot the goddamn thing.”

  “I’m standing less than eight feet away from you” she smiled “I might be a bad shot, but not that bad.”

  Drago inched closer, his shit eating smile spreading wider and wider across his face as he did so. She took a step backwards, the gun trembling in her hand, noticing speckles of blood dripping down onto the flesh grasped around the handle.

  Without a moment’s hesitation she aimed the gun at the wall, some three feet away from Drago, and fired a shot. As the sound rung out through the enclosed room, Drago let out a hoot of laughter. “Nobody’s gonna hear that” he leered “y’think that’s gonna scare me? Now drop the gun, and get to your knees bitch…”

  He lunged forward with cat like agility, his wiry hands curling around her back as he yanked her arms upward. Another shot rang out, the bullet embedding itself in the ceiling as the two of them fell back onto the couch as they struggled. As plumes of dust rose up from the sofa and engulfed them, Drago slapped her across her face and thrust his elbow into her abdomen. She grunted as the gun fell to the floor and brought her knee up straight into his midriff as she tried to pull away.

  Drago straightened his back, his hands coming down to her throat as she kicked her leg out wildly ensuring her foot smashed straight into his nose. As he fell off the couch and slumped onto his side, she scrambled around for the gun. Drago landed his fist against her face and she felt the blood haemorrhage out from both nostrils as she fell back. He grabbed both of her legs and yanked them apart, emitting little whimpers of delight as he tried as best he could to peel his tattered jeans off. Holding onto one leg, squeezing it in between his shoulder and neck, he undid his fly and let his pants fall to the floor.

  As he leant forward, his hands tightened around her throat. As she gasped for air he began to grin, his smile broadening as her efforts to fight back weakened with every passing moment. “Do it now…” he commanded as he reached one hand down into his pants. As he grabbed her by the hair and thrust her face towards his crotch, she wrapped her hands around his waist, clenching firmly onto his buttocks. Pressing his pelvis against her lips, her hands brushed against the gun snared against the rim of his boxing shorts. Realising this was her chance she tightened the grip of her fingers against the cheeks of his ass and breathed heavily against the outline of his penis as it pressed against his boxers.

  Drago arched his back as he raised his head up, closing his eyes as whimpers of ecstasy escaped from his mouth. Reali
sing he was now off his guard, she snatched at the weapon and jerked her body upwards, falling back until she slumped against the sofa, steadying her grip and then aiming the weapon straight up into his face. He stood there, his erection bulging against his shorts as he glared back down at her. “Fuck you” he muttered, his lips tightening into a scowl. He contemplated rushing forward to grab the gun, his eyes fixed on hers, her body posture and finally the weapon itself.

  “You sick son of a bitch” she gasped, cocking the hammer back as she steadied her aim. He did not wait. Rushing forward with a grunt, Drago sprung at her with the ferocity of a tiger let loose from its cage. A shot rang out. He stopped in his tracks, his face pale as a ghost as he clutched his chest.

  Staring down at his hands he could see the crimson lacquer of his own blood imprinted upon the skin. He stared up at her, his eyes curled up in a manic rage. “You shot me you little cunt..” he gulped, staggering backwards, his backside smashing against the edge of the table behind him “you bitch…you little ungrateful bitch..” he repeated as he tried to summon the strength to attack her. She aimed at him again, focusing on his belly, and squeezed the trigger as hard as she could.

  Another shot rang out and Drago moaned as he slumped down to his knees, the bullet penetrating the flesh of his skinny abdomen. Staring up at her he sneered, spittle dripping from his bottom lip as he fell forward onto his face. She sat there, dropping the gun to her side. Rising to her feet, she kicked him. Emitting a groan of pain, Drago curled up and began coughing as drips of blood leaked forth from his mouth and his wounds.

  She snatched the packets of pills from the table surface and stared down at him, watching life ebb away from his ruined, useless body. Her head began to hurt again, throbbing incessantly as she felt the warm trickle of blood pour from her nose once again. She yanked open the door, threw a purple coloured capsule back into her throat and felt the itch in her brain dissolve as it kicked in.

  Walking down the dark, dingy, urine stained hallway she saw the image of her daughter flashing through her mind. She saw her smile, her sullen expression, the joy in which she threw her arms up whenever she scooped her up, the hatred in that same face and the glower of disgust. All in one, embroiled within the pain and the pleasure of the love she gave and wanted to give. In that moment she finally realised she had to find her.

  **

  Andie struggled to keep up pace with the both of them. John darted in and out through the oncoming crawl of pedestrians. Staring into street corners, across streets and the inside of convenience stores; he paused only to enter bars, to quickly whip his head around the corner to see where Gina might be. Pearce followed diligently behind him; cautious and unnerved while Andie slowly surveyed the roads for any sign of the woman she was beginning to realise could be her mother.

  As light drizzle began to bounce off her head she noticed John stop in his tracks outside the foyer of a hotel, engaged in fierce discussion with the doorman. Her feet were tired; her emotions tangled up like a necklace of pearls. She refused to believe it yet her pulse quickened at the mere thought that Gina was still alive, her heart shuddering in both excitement and vehement disgust. “What is he doing now?” she panted as she caught up with Pearce, the chill of the wind making her eyes water.

  “Honestly” Pearce shook his head “I don’t know, we’ve been around the same block six times.”

  “I can’t believe this” Andie sighed, stepping back from the oncoming rush of commuters as she leant against the wall “I’m supposed to believe my mother is tramping the streets of Manhattan while I’ve been thinking she’s been six feet under.”

  “Believe it..” Pearce shouted over the crowd “like I told you in the car, she’s only been here maybe six to eight months we think..your mother’s a very resourceful woman to get this far.”

  Andie noticed John’s discussion with the doorman had become even more animated; she motioned for Pearce to accompany her as they approached the hotel. John’s face was flush red, his voice booming as his fingers jabbed the air as he enunciated his words.

  “Look, just think about what I’m saying to you, you know the one I’m talking about” he snapped “she’s a looker, it’s obvious she doesn’t look like any usual wino...now please, will you just think for a minute before you say you don’t know nothin’ for the hundredth time.”

  “Uh huh” the door man replied with a smile “and I suppose she’s your girlfriend or something huh? I don’t see nothin’ from nothin’ how’s you think I’m gonna remember some loopy Dame when I got hundreds of people passing me every day, huh?”

  “What kinda doorman are you?” John spluttered “I’m a cop, this woman is wanted by the NYPD, so you screw me around buddy and you’re obstructing our investigation.”

  “Show me your badge then” the doorman yawned, smirking at John’s reaction.

  “Pearce” John yelled as he saw him approaching “get out your badge, this jerkoff’s seen her, I know it.”

  “How’s that for you pal? Now answer the man’s question.” Pearce asked, flashing his ID as the doorman’s expression crumbled.

  “She used to sit outside on this kerb most of the time” John replied as he turned to Andie and Pearce, pointing to the sidewalk “this guy or his boss or whoever the hell he works for has moved her enough times in the past-or tried to at least, I know it.” he explained.

  “I might know who you mean” the doorman nodded “but I ain’t seen her for a long time.”

  “Ok thank you..” Pearce smiled, ushering John away “look she’s been attacked, she might be wounded, but I didn’t see any blood other than those from the wounds of the guy in your flat..now if she’s not on the streets, then we have to consider the sort of places she would go..”

  “Look” John replied “I know her, she might have been a bum but she wouldn’t be in no crack joint, I’m sure of that.”

  “Detective” Andie interrupted “if this really is my mother, then you don’t know her well enough to rule that out...”

  “If you say so..” John shook his head “if that’s the case, she couldn’t have got far…we can scout West, Central and East Harlem, Washington Heights, Hamilton Heights, and Inwood for starters.”

  “Alright” Pearce turned to Andie “we’ll take you home and then we’ll look for her, don’t worry.”

  “I’m not” Andie scowled “to be honest with you, if you do find her I don’t know how I’ll feel..thankful you did, or wishing you didn’t bother…I just don’t know right now..”

  “You’ll find she ain’t the person she used to be.” John replied as his eyes continued to scan the sidewalk.

  “Some leopards don’t change their spots” Andie frowned “she might pull the wool over your eyes, but I’m blood, I know how it goes..”

  * *

  The nails of her fingers dug into her scalp as she massaged her head. Bringing her knees up to her chin she began to rock back and forth against the wall. The last fragments of sunlight had slipped behind the dull grey clouds and she squinted as the sparkle of a sunbeam shot past the windows of a skyscraper and bathed her face. The biting cold made every part of her body shiver, she wanted to pull herself up and stand by the makeshift fire that the groups of winos were huddled around. Disused cars, abandoned trash containers and cardboard box beds littered the underpass where she lay. Within touching distance a man lay sprawled out on the ground, his naked arm lying atop the concrete, the skin littered with needle marks. His face was gaunt, pale and his body trembled in the cold as the needle jutted out from a vein and for a moment she contemplated using it too.

  Her head throbbed, blood wept from her nostrils as images of the past few days raced through her mind. It had been scarcely a few hours since she first took Drago’s tablets, and already it felt like days. The ecstasy of the first hour had been replaced by agony; she clawed her scalp, hoping to tear the pain physically from her brain. Moans and whimpers escaped her mouth, reliving the image of Madsen’s disgusting face as he le
ered at her that afternoon months ago when he first broke into her relocated house, lunging forward to kill her. Within a heartbeat the image was wiped clean as she saw him pinning her down, his fists beating against her head, throwing her against a coffee table where she slammed her forehead against its corner, splitting the skin wide open as blood squirted out.

  She rose groggily to her feet, the wind swirling around her. She felt spots of blood from her nostril fall against her cheek and chin. Moving forward towards the fire, her vision was blurry, her steps uncertain. Three winos stood around a steel barrel, a plume of dark smoke engulfing them as newspapers, magazines, cardboard, and junk crackled amidst the flames. Their faces were forlorn, also frozen in the cold and wet with the rain. A toothless man grinned at her, nodding towards the fire as he warmed his wrinkly hands.

  “Ain’t seen ya round here..” he grumbled “..woulda remembered you for sure” he cackled. She ignored him, hugging herself as she stared into the fire. “You want some blow?” another man boomed. He was an older black man, his hair grey and wizen and his eyes bloodshot. Plunging his hands into an oversized army and navy jacket, he pulled out a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. His red eyes blinked weakly as he stretched it out towards her. She wanted to reach out, to swallow the whole goddamn thing down her parched throat, but her head hurt, her legs were weak and her nose felt like a reservoir of blood, ready to explode if she dared move forward another inch.

  “Got any smokes?” she muttered, staring straight into the flame and avoiding eye contact. Stuffing her hands into her pockets she wished she had brought Drago’s gun with her but only a few of the tablet packets remained. She pulled them out, dangling them in front of her new audience. “I’ll trade you this for some smokes and the whisky.” she sighed.

  “What the hell are those?” the man in the khaki overcoat scoffed “we got blow, we got some H, we got Jack and coke, what else do we fuckin’ need?” he laughed, joined by a chorus of smattering giggles from the bodies lying around them.