by Tom Twitchel
“How do you feel, Justine?” I asked.
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.
“Me? I…I…I like you, Benny, a lot.” Her cheeks flamed crimson and she dropped her eyes.
Struggling to be positive without over-committing I said, “I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t like you.”
Looking up, she drew her hands into her lap and smiled shyly at me.
“I’m not too weird?” she asked.
That made me laugh and it felt like the conversation was moving toward safer ground. “Weird? No. I was friends with Baffle. He’s weird.”
Giggling, she tilted her head to one side. “Yeah.” Her phone chirped. Waking up the screen, she frowned and then rolled her eyes. Her body language reminded me of Maddy. My meal, which had quieted down, began bubbling again.
“My mom, checking up on me. I told her I was driving you home. I didn’t mention going out to eat,” she said, disappointment written clearly on her face.
“Hey, I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.”
She smiled brightly. “No. She can take a chill pill. I’m responsible. And a short detour is no big deal.” She reached across the table again and patted my hand.
We grabbed all of our wrappers and our shakes and got up. I tossed the paper in the trash as we walked back to her car.
The ride back was pleasant. She put on her playlist, which was pretty decent; we chatted about not much in particular and smiled a lot. When she pulled up to the curb in front of my building I had a moment of worry where I thought I would see Maddy standing on the curb, tapping her foot.
My hand was on the door handle and we experienced that awkward moment where we really didn’t have anything to say to each other, but we thought there should be something.
I started to offer another thank you, when she leaned across the gearshift, put her hand on my cheek and kissed me. Her lips tasted like strawberry shake and I could smell some kind of fruity shampoo in her hair.
She leaned away and smiled through another blush.
“‘Night Benny.”
“Good night Justine. Thanks again.”
I opened the car door, stepped out on the sidewalk and my wallet fell out of my hoodie into her car. As I started to reach down for it, I saw a shady looking guy rush up to Justine’s side of the car.
“Hey, what are y—” My voice choked off as I was jerked roughly backward and spun around. A hulking shape slammed me against the car, snapping my head back and I saw stars. I heard a scream and then it stopped.
Trying to focus, I struggled to push away from the car and was shoved back again. The second blow to my noggin was more than enough.
CHAPTER FIVE
When I woke up the back of my head throbbed painfully. I was tied to a chair. Turning my head, fresh pain screaming as I did, I strained unsuccessfully to make out details in the dark. I got the sense of a large space but couldn’t see much. At first, I couldn’t remember what had happened and then the details emerged from the fog. Getting out of Justine’s car, two men, slammed against the car and Justine.…
I swung my head around quickly looking for her and almost passed out from the pain. Slumped in a chair next to me, head lolling to one side, she looked lifeless. Panic and anger surged through me and I struggled against the ropes. Every moment made my head spin. My stomach lurched and I turned my head as quality Dick’s food spewed all over the floor. Puking did not improve my spirits and my head still felt like someone was trying to open it at the back with an ice pick.
Justine’s still form scared the hell out of me. In the weak light, I couldn’t tell if she was still breathing. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw another figure, head on its chest, in a chair on Justine’s other side. Beyond that shadowy form was another person, sprawled on the floor.
It was cold and drafty wherever I was but where was that exactly? Looking up, I could see faint yellow light coming in from a long row of windows. Many of the windows were broken.
I knew where I was.
How long until our captors returned was impossible to guess but I knew we were in huge trouble if we were still here when they returned. Trying not to trigger another bout of nausea, I strained against the rope holding me to the chair. There was very little slack, but it was something. Focusing my knack, I began coaxing the knots in the rope to loosen and eventually had one hand almost free.
Maintaining focus through the pain was difficult. I really wanted to just take a nap, but I recalled that the symptoms of a concussion were vomiting, losing consciousness or falling asleep. Just as I was gathering myself for another assault on the knots, a light came on behind me. I allowed my head to drop onto my chest and closed my eyes while I concentrated on the ropes holding me.
“This is stupid. Kids? You know what they do to people who take kids?” A man’s thin nasally voice whined.
Another voice, a deep baritone, responded. “Stop talking about it. We hang here until she meets us. We collect. We’re done. The kid is on her. It’s your fault for grabbing the girl. She’s a problem.”
Whiny ignored the obvious reference to Justine. “What’s she want ‘im for? I mean if she was a guy maybe I’d understand but…”
A dull slapping sound echoed in the cavernous space. “Shut up! Whatever happens after we get paid isn’t our business. I’ve worked for her before. You haven’t. Don’t embarrass me.”
“You didn’t have to hit me.”
“Keep yapping and I’ll do worse,” grunted Baritone.
Despite the warning, they continued to bicker. I kept working on the ropes, being careful not to completely remove the knots and cause them to fall to the floor. Sleep kept calling to me, but all I needed to do was to think of Justine to keep me hanging on.
Risking a quick peek through a cracked eyelid, I could make out more details of my surroundings. Although I had never been inside before I was sure that I was in the large warehouse next to my apartment building. I heard a door open and close. The sound of a woman’s heels clicked on the warehouse floor and drew closer.
The sound of Miss Hoch’s voice echoed around me. “Who’s the girl?”
Baritone’s deep voice grumbled. “Saw us. Had to snatch her too. We’ll take our pay and be leaving.”
“Not so fast.” Miss Hoch chuckled. “I’ll need the two of you for a bit longer.”
“That wasn’t the deal!” complained Whiny.
“Excuse me? You mess up instructions and you’re complaining about going off script? The two of you just kidnapped four people. Two of them children. Only one of which I asked for. Do you really want to press the issue?” asked Miss Hoch.
They didn’t say anything. I assume they shook their heads.
“Is that the Mexican on the floor?” she snapped.
“Yah. Ran into him in the kid’s apartment building. Tried to interfere,” responded Baritone. Mexican? Suspicion gnawed at me. I reached out mentally.
Oso?
Whether it was him or not, there was no response.
She made a hissing sound. “He’s been a pain in the ass for too long. Now I can cross him off the list too. So, what exactly do we have? Quite the smorgasbord.” I heard her walk slowly past me. It was silent for a few minutes and I thought I heard her gasp. “The old man was putting together a veritable zoo. A redacted talent…an untrained moderate talent and…oh! Hmm. One lost little dear who probably doesn’t even know what she is or what she can do, but a potential competitor nonetheless and we can’t have that. I forgive the two of you for collecting the extras. I might even throw in a bonus.”
The high heels clicked closer and I could feel her breath on my cheek. “And the crown jewel,” she purred as I felt her hand drop onto my shoulder, “a massive high talent. He’ll be the main course.”
Somehow, I didn’t find that flattering.
“Okay. So what are we doing here?” grated Baritone.
“Is the Mexican brain damaged?” she asked with a casual air.
“I don’t think he’s scrambled but he’s probably not going to be waking up anytime soon. He’s strong. Had to whack him three or four times before he went down,” grumbled Baritone.
“Well, he’s just icing on the cake. A gift, really. Never look a gift horse in the mouth I always say. His bad luck. Let’s focus on the one in the chair,” laughed Miss Hoch. “All right, hold the head up.”
“What’s that for?” asked Whiny.
“He has to be awake. It’ll bring him around fast. He might have a violent reaction to it so hold him steady.”
I couldn’t see what they were doing, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what was going on. They were administering some kind of drug to wake up the guy tied to a chair. Probably with an injection.
A startled grunt, some scuffling and a low moan was followed by a low curse from Baritone.
“Look at me,” said Miss Hoch. “Look up, up. This will only hurt for a short time and then you can sleep.”
A familiar voice moaned, “What? What you doing? Why I am here? Who…”
She had Breno and I couldn’t play possum anymore and let her hurt him.
Miss Hoch hissed, “Shhhh…quiet. It’ll only hurt more if you fight it.”
“Wh…ohhh…owww…no, no, no, noOOO! NOOOO!” Breno’s voice climbed in volume, clearly in pain.
When you watch a football game, or basketball game it’s hard to follow all of the details of a single play or sequence in real time. That’s what slow motion replay is for because there’s so much crammed into four to five seconds.
Same holds true for what happened after I allowed the ropes to fall to the floor.
The first thing I did was grab a handful of marbles and sling them sidearm at Miss Hoch, who was wearing a tight-fitting red dress with a slit that revealed a lot of legs, and was leaning over Breno holding his head up with her hand clenching his chin. Pouring as much influence in the space behind them as I could, and focusing a tight cone of space around them, I guided the marbles forward and increased their speed. With my right hand, I grabbed several metal playing cards and snapped off three quick throws at the bigger of Miss Hoch’s henchmen, a big slope-browed behemoth whose knuckles practically dragged on the ground, Baritone, I assumed.
Sensing movement from my direction, Baritone, he of the dragging knuckles, made the unfortunate decision to turn his head causing the first card to bury itself in his nose, while the other two found a home in the limited real estate of his forehead. Blood gushed from his nose as he staggered backward, hands swiping at his face.
Miss Hoch had either been too intent on sucking Breno’s knacks or her own knack had caused her to react slowly because my marbles caught her full in the temple.
My twin attack occurred while help arrived from an unexpected source. The figure that had been lying on the floor rose up just as Baritone started bellowing in pain, dancing around like a crazy person and Miss Hoch started to fall. It was Oso.
He stood up and lunged toward Whiny, who, understandably, caught by surprise, was stumbling backward, jerkily bringing up what had to be the biggest handgun in the world. A lot of movies and TV shows have the scary thug roles filled by big, muscular actors. The big frightening characters rage and yell or deliver a decidedly un-thug-like monologue right before they start blazing away with their weapons of choice. In the real world, my experience indicated that the fraidy-cat thin whiners who aren’t saying much as they stare at you white-faced are the ones you should worry about. The rail-thin Whiny flipped long greasy hair out of his face and raised the ridiculously huge and shiny gun, leveling it at Oso.
He fired off two shots from the hand cannon, which sounded more like large explosions than a discharging firearm. The noise was deafening and my ears rang as I threw up again from the thundering pain brought on by the multiple blasts.
“NO!” I slurred loudly as I watched Oso’s body thrown through the air. He slid another two or three feet on his back after he hit the ground.
Whiny, not to be caught unaware twice, swung his monstrous gun in my direction.
Reaching out quickly, I nudged the barrel upward, and not a second too soon because Whiny was a man of action. The blast roared in my muffled ears and I felt the hot rush of a bullet pass over my head.
A frantic fumbling in my pocket produced two more cards, which I hurriedly flicked at him. Now, when you’re flinging cards, it really helps if you take your time, but if you have a knack, you can clean up a lot of sloppiness. Card number one caught Whiny in the gun hand, causing him to drop the cannon. Number two stuck in his right eye, effectively removing him from my immediate concern.
I lunged for the dropped gun and, honestly, had trouble lifting it because it was so unbelievably heavy. Baritone had stopped dancing and cursing and was reaching into his bulky jacket for what was probably the next of kin to the gun I was trying to pick up. Not willing to die while I was struggling with the massive handgun, I grabbed another handful of marbles and tossed them at him. My pounding head was making it harder to focus, but I managed to tighten my ragged throw into a tight stream of miniature cannonballs that caught the big goon full in the forehead.
As the saying goes, the bigger they are…
As he hit the floor, I turned, staggered over to his whimpering accomplice and unrepentantly brained him with the massive handgun. It made a terrific club. Not even a peep escaped him as he sank to the floor.
Bent over, seeing stars and dry heaving, I stared blearily at the fallen people surrounding me. I looked in Oso’s direction and felt uncontrollable sobs burst from my lips as I stared at the long, thick streaks of blood that followed the slide he had taken. Turning my face to Justine, I limped over to her and put my hand on her neck. It was frighteningly cold, and I couldn’t feel a pulse.
Sagging, sobs wracked my body bringing on blinding waves of pain that drove me to my knees. My crying sounded far off and muted, but I could hear Breno endlessly repeating “No” behind me.
“We aren’t done here.”
I let my head turn in the direction of her voice. She was standing over me, her fingers buried in Justine’s hair. The right side of her face was puffy and bruised. Despite the discoloration and swelling, she looked years younger than the last time I had seen her—like, in her twenties, early twenties. I shuddered to think how she had managed that.
“Please…” was all I could manage.
“Please? Please what? You and that old man have been putting together some kind of menagerie, a collection of naturals. For what? Do you know what he did to me? I spent weeks trying to figure out what had happened to me. When I caught him trying to track me down, I put it all together. He thought he could strip my gift from me. He’s apparently tried it before, but that bullshit in the alley was the last time. I had these morons rent a room in his own apartment building and I lived right under his nose and just waited him out until he got careless. And while I waited, I found you. I could smell all of you, your talents. And you…you virtually reeked. Let me tell you, it took a lot of restraint not to just snatch you out of your bed in the middle of the night. But you want to guess what the funny part is? It didn’t have to happen. He could have just let me go. I was leaving town when I discovered he was looking for me. Then I couldn’t run. I decided that I was going to cut him out of my life forever. This is his fault—and yours, but not mine.”
“No.… We were just protecting…” The room tilted and the words started to sound funny.
“What about me? Who’s protecting me? That big Mexican buffoon hanging out in the shadows everywhere you went? The retard? Certainly not the natural you’ve been running around with who apparently didn’t even know what she was. I protect myself!”
Her rambling didn’t make sense. Was she insane? Who was she talking about? Maddy? Justine? My vision cracked at the edges and grew gray. There was a loud banging deep in my skull. I was so tired.
“So, before I take your talent, I’m going to make you watch me take hers.” She pulled Justine’s
head back and slapped her across the face.
“Wake up you little bitch.” Slap! Slap! Slap!
“Don’t. Please don’t hurt her,” I pleaded.
Justine’s head jerked bonelessly in the direction of each slap. Uttering a curse of disgust, Miss Hoch released her grip on Justine’s hair and let her head drop to her chest.
“Well, that leaves you and the idiot since it looks like my hunters ruined the Mexican.” She knelt and put her hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at her. Her nails broke the skin and I felt blood run down my neck.
“Do you remember this? We’ve been here before. Just look at my eyes. Fall in. It’ll hurt. But when it’s over you won’t feel anything—ever again.”
I looked into her eyes and I floated toward a lavender fog.
Falling.
I was too wiped out to knack her and even while I knew what those lavender eyes meant, I quickly cared very little—until the pain started.
And then it was too late.
At first, it was as if my head had been submerged in water that was too hot and then the pain intensified. Searing, blinding agony ripped into my mind and I screamed.
Like a sound from another room, way far away, I heard a voice.
“Don’t hurt! Benny.… Benny’s my friend. Don’t hurt him!”
Lavender wisps of fog blew away in a rush of wind. Miss Hoch’s face swam into view. Her hands were clasped to the sides of her head and her mouth was open in a silent scream.
Then she burst into flame and everything went black.
CHAPTER SIX
Waking up in a hospital and not remembering how you got there is not an experience that I recommend. Once is bad, but twice?
At least this time I wasn’t blindfolded, but my head was wrapped in gauze bandages again. There wasn’t much to distinguish the room from the one I had woken up in when I had been recovering from the beating Mike had given me. I raised my hand to feel at the back of my head.
I should say, “tried” to raise my hand.