Brain

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Brain Page 8

by Candace Blevins


  “Something like that. Duke tells me you’re as smart as Brain, and if I let you have anything in the cell, you’re likely to figure out how to use it to escape. He wanted me to be clear you aren’t naked because I’m perving on you, said to tell you no one will hurt you as long as you behave. I turned the heat up when we got here, but it’ll take a bit to bring the temp up.” He shook his head. “He said to make sure I don’t let you escape, but not treat you as the enemy, either. He also said you’re supposed to be coming up with your suggestion of how to kick the Disciples’ ass while destroying every copy they might have of the data you gave them.”

  “I’ll need something to either write or type it out on. I can’t think it through in my head.”

  “Yeah, he said I can type it as you think out loud. I have a big screen TV upstairs I can bring down, prop against the wall, and hook up to my laptop, so you can see it.”

  I’d get farther with this group by showing them they could trust me than I would by fighting them. I nodded, and he went upstairs.

  Surprisingly, he brought a towel down, and handed it through the bars long enough for me to dry myself and a section of the floor to sit on. I gave it back to him when I was finished, though I was tempted to move it to the middle of the cell and sit on it.

  I outlined the Disciples strengths and weaknesses, had him put them in two columns, side by side, and sat and analyzed them a while. Finally, I said, “Don’t suppose you’d be up for a game of chess or something? I need to get out of my head a while.”

  He shook his head. “I unplugged the router when I got here, so there’s no wi-fi, and Duke gave me a burner phone and took my regular one. We’re internetless, and I don’t have chess on my laptop.”

  I grinned. “All that, for a little girl?”

  “I’m thinking what I’d do to keep Brain in that cage, if he was here. He’s the smartest person I know, and Duke says you bested him for a week before he caught you.”

  “Duke must trust you a lot. You not only have to keep me in here, you have to keep Brain from finding us. That’s a pretty tall order.”

  “You don’t look like a Grace.”

  Okay, so flattery wouldn’t work on him. It’d been worth a try. I shrugged. “Not a lot of choice in my name.”

  “I’m one of the few in the club who knows you’ll be getting a new identity. You don’t look like Grace.”

  “Not even with girly clothes and longer hair? A chin implant, the bridge of my nose shaved down, and the tip perkier?”

  “Too much wisdom in your eyes to pull off vapid, senseless female. Don’t know what you’ve been through, what you’ve been forced to do, and don’t want to know… but Grace doesn’t fit.”

  “What else did Duke tell you about me?”

  He shrugged. “You hurt us enough to be our enemy, but you seem to be trying to make it right, now. You didn’t know enough about us before, thought we were trash, and that’s on you for not finding out enough about who you were fucking over, and he assures me it’ll be dealt with, but says the end game is to have you on our side, not as our enemy.”

  “Do you know what my name will be?”

  “Christina Grace, can’t tell you your last name, yet.”

  “Right, so what other names can I get out of that? I prefer Destiny, but I’m thinking if I make a clean break, I should stop using the name. Maybe Harmony, or Hope?”

  He looked at me a few seconds and said, “Christina… Tina… Trina. You could legitimately use Trina as a nickname, maybe go as Trinity, if you’re going for something religious, though I hadn’t pegged you for a bible thumper.”

  I shook my head. “Not a bible thumper, just… I’ve been so close to death, more than once, and it’s changed the way I see the world. The things most of society thinks of as needs, I realize are shallow wants. I was raised to care about nails and hair, fashion and status, but none of it matters.” I spread my arms. “I’m naked, you aren’t. I’m your prisoner, and yet we’re having a normal conversation. I don’t even know your damned name, and you know more about me than anyone’s known in years. Life is fucked. I want a name that reminds me there’s more to life than society wants us to believe.”

  “You can call me Gonzo, and Trinity fits. Not because of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, but because of the chick in the Matrix. Your short hair, thin build, the way you handle yourself… reminds me of her.”

  “If Duke hadn’t told you not to hurt me, would you?”

  He nodded. “You got my friend hurt, but I’m not president because there’s some decisions I shouldn’t make. Duke helps me stay sane, and out of jail.”

  Well, alrighty then. Coming from someone the club had nicknamed Gonzo, I made a mental note not to try manipulation through irritation with this one. I nodded towards the now-dark big screen television propped against the wall. “Wake the laptop and let me see our list again. Ready to type some more?”

  I brainstormed for what seemed hours, and when I finished, I straightened my legs and stretched my arms. I had no idea what time it was, and with no windows, didn’t even know if it was day or night. He’d let me have some more Coke, again with a straw while he held the bottle, and he’d given me some crackers and cheese, but I needed real food, and a toilet would be nice, too.

  “Tell me we have more than crackers and cheese to eat?”

  He nodded. “I was instructed to buy frozen pizzas and stuff to make sandwiches, as I’d need to feed you with no dishes or silverware. I have chicken I can cook in about five minutes, put it on bread and bring it down, or I can put a pizza in the oven and come down while it cooks, go back up to get it out. I won’t tell you the security precautions, only warn you not to try to get out while I’m gone.”

  “I don’t care which. Whatever you want is fine. If you do sandwiches, I want mayo and mustard, heavy on the mayo. If there’s lettuce and tomato, that’d be great. Pizza’s fine, though, if that’s your preference.”

  “I’ll do sandwiches. If you want to get as close to the drain as you can to relieve yourself while I’m gone, so you don’t have to do it while I’m here…” he shrugged and added, “I can hose the floor off when I get back, rinse you off again if needed. I’ll bring some hand sanitizer for you, too.”

  I hadn’t taken a crap in days, as I hadn’t wanted to do it in front of Brain. At least then, it would’ve been in a flushable toilet, and I’d have had toilet paper.

  I went to the other end of the cell as soon as he left, squatted, and did my business. It stank to high heaven, and I gagged as I went to the other end of the cell, hating Duke, Bash, Gonzo, and all of the RTMC except Brain. On second thought, if Brain hadn’t gotten attached to me, they wouldn’t have put me in this hell-hole with Gonzo as my jailor, so I added Brain to the list of people I hated.

  I sat in the floor, pulled my knees to my chest, curled into as tight of a ball as I could, and tried not to cry. I let my anger seep into every cell of my body, as it was the only way to keep from feeling sorry for myself and turning into a ball of emotions, and I would not cry in front of Gonzo. I wasn’t going to lose it, either. I kept reminding myself there was no threat of torture, so I needed to just chill and deal with it until I had a chance to escape. If I lost it, I might miss my chance.

  Gonzo came down with the food, set it to the side, and hosed the other end of my cell down without comment. When he finished, he brought me the hand sanitizer, squirted it on my hands as I looked at the floor, and then brought my food. I accepted it without comment, and he didn’t try to talk.

  He brought himself three sandwiches, and finished them before I finished the one he’d brought me — which had lettuce and tomatoes, as well as mozzarella cheese, was on sourdough bread from a bakery, not a factory, and was quite possibly one of the best sandwiches I’d ever eaten.

  He curled up on a cot and went to sleep when he finished his sandwich, leaving me to sit and stew — and to plot ways of escape.

  My ankle shackle was held closed by a combina
tion Master lock, and it was likely I could figure the combination out in under a half hour, if I could manage to fiddle with it without waking Gonzo. If only I had my tools, I’d be out of here in ten seconds with a shim.

  I looked at the nail on my left ring finger, which had grown quite long. I kept my nails cut short for a couple of reasons — they were removed by the Russians, and anything bumping or moving them sometimes set me off, also, keeping them short let me quickly go into disguise as a man. However, I’d let my left ring finger grow long, partly to convince myself I could, without losing it every time something bumped it, but also because, as a man, it worked to insinuate I was part of the drug culture. I used my ring finger instead of my pinkie because the nail is so damned strong, and I’ve been able to use it as a screwdriver a few times. Having your nails pulled out with plyers can make some of them grow back thicker and stronger, apparently.

  Now, I wasn’t sure if it was long enough to use as a shim, but I bit it off as close to the quick as I could, wrapped it around the left shaft, and jammed it into the body of the lock. It popped open, and I quietly removed the shackle from my ankle and looked at the bars. I’d already realized two were just a little farther apart than the others. Whoever had built the cell had done so with men in mind, not size-three women.

  I shimmied between the bars, moved to the steps as quietly as possible, and walked up them with my feet close to the sides, skipping the fifth step, which had squeaked as Gonzo went up.

  I was giving up the opportunity for a fresh start, but no way was I going to sit naked in the cell and poop in the floor another day.

  Besides, now that I knew there was an auction for the identities of people with fatal illnesses, it shouldn’t take me too much time to make the connections necessary to bid on someone myself.

  Once I got beyond the upstairs door, I flew through the house, out the front door, down the steps, and breathed a sigh of relief when the car was unlocked.

  It seemed a shame to rip into the steering column of a sixty-something Ford Mustang to hotwire it, but I didn’t have much choice. I’d try to make sure it made it back into Gonzo’s possession, but I needed to borrow it, for now.

  I had no idea where I was, but I drove on mostly back roads for an hour, sitting as low as I could in the seat so people didn’t see my tits. They’re small enough I can flatten them with an elastic bandage when I’m a boy, but shirtless, I was obviously a girl.

  With no clock or radio in the car, I still had no idea of the time, only that it was a dark, cloudy night, and I was in the middle of fucking nowhere, in a stolen car, naked.

  When a sign pointed to a city, I turned the other way. Eventually, I came upon a farm that looked like it would serve my purposes, and I drove down the road until I found a pull-off, parked the Mustang, and hiked back to the farm.

  The barn was a good two hundred yards from the house, and I made it inside with no dogs barking, thank goodness.

  I found a fleece jacket hanging on a hook in the barn, and grabbed it and went back outside. I debated between stealing their truck or making my way back to the Mustang, and hiked back to the Mustang. I doubted Gonzo had reported it stolen, and with the jacket, I could ride into town.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brain

  I started cussing when I returned and saw the Expedition gone, and didn’t stop for a long, long while. I could see where Duke was with an app on my phone, as all of the RTMC vehicles have tracking devices so I can keep tabs on all of us, make sure we’re all safe, and send men to come to someone’s rescue if they get in trouble.

  He didn’t answer his phone, though, so I knew he intended to take her somewhere I couldn’t find her.

  McGyver was running the control room, and he was no help, though I hadn’t expected him to be.

  I was on my own.

  I mounted my cellphone on my bike so I could keep an eye on Duke’s location, and set off after him.

  He had an hour on me, though, and I knew he’d have a plan. No one knew me better than Duke.

  When he got off the interstate in South Pittsburgh and then back on it, I knew he’d handed her off to someone else. I also knew it would be someone I couldn’t follow electronically, so I went to the compound to confront him.

  Duke’s smart, and he’s also a bad-ass, with the muscle to back himself up. I’m smarter than Duke, and I can kick any human’s ass, anywhere, anytime… but against the other wolves? I can hold my own with most of them, but against the best, I’m no match.

  That didn’t stop me from storming into the clubhouse and taking a half-dozen swings at Duke before the other men could pull me off him, though.

  “Where is she!”

  “You’re too close, Brain. Let us handle her.”

  “She’ll be in the wind before morning!”

  “No. Precautions are being taken, and no one will lay a hand on her. She’s safe.”

  “Stupid fuck! Took me a week to catch her, and you just…” I threw my arms up and stormed out of the clubhouse, got back on my bike, and rode home.

  I have a room in my house not even my brothers know about. I could cause world war three from this room, and no government in the world would know a piece-of-trash biker had instigated what would probably be the end of the world as we know it.

  Not that I considered myself a piece of trash. I’d grown up with money, was raised by people who had an actual say in how the world was run, and I knew they were the true scum of society. I went downstairs, opened the bookcase door into my weapons room, and then the fake wall at the back into my control room.

  I cranked everything up, and within moments had monitors showing me the clubhouse interior and exterior, and speakers giving me audio from each place. I made sure I was jacked into Duke’s phone, and sat back and watched.

  Of the people Duke trusted most, Gonzo was missing, so I did a search on all of his vehicles. None of them were somewhere they shouldn’t be, but Gonzo’s phone was at the clubhouse, and he wasn’t.

  I hacked into Gonzo’s bank account, saw he’d just written a sizeable check. Ten minutes later, I discovered it was for a used Mustang. Damn.

  Meeting Duke off the interstate in South Pittsburgh told me nothing, it was more about where to quickly make the change than about where Gonzo was taking her. Still, I could think of a half dozen likely spots.

  I checked the routers at the places they’d most likely take her, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary at any of them. Wait… Duke would want a nice cage. The Atlanta chapter had a house in North Georgia they used for new werewolves, and it would only be an hour or so drive from South Pittsburgh. I went back into my records, pinged the router, and wanted to dance when it didn’t respond. Gonzo had unplugged it, just to make sure there was no internet access.

  I lived in Fort Oglethorpe, and could make it to the cabin outside LaFayette in under thirty minutes on my bike.

  I forwarded my calls to a burner phone, and jumped on a bike not jacked into the RTMC control room. They’d think I was still home, brooding.

  It’d taken me a lot longer than it should’ve to figure out where she was, and it was after midnight. I made good time, but it was still nearly one in the morning when I pulled my bike off the road five miles from the cabin and hid it in the woods.

  I didn’t want Gonzo to hear me coming.

  I knew, when the cabin came into view with no Mustang in sight and Gonzo sitting on the front porch steps, she’d escaped.

  I stood twenty yards from him and demanded, “Tell me everything that happened.”

  He shook his head, told me how well things had gone, at first. When he got to the part about telling her to use the bathroom on the floor while he went and fixed food, I wanted to deck him. When he told me how it’d smelled, and the anger and violence coming from her when he cleaned up her mess, I didn’t realize I was going to hit him until my fist impacted his jaw.

  Ten seconds later I was on my back, on the ground, looking up at him. “Dammit, don’t make me
hurt you. She’s in my car, and she’s only been gone a half hour. Bash is on his way to get me, but you can go look for her, now, before she gets too far.”

  “How much gas was in the car?”

  “Half a tank. I heard her as the front door opened, and was on the front porch as she pulled away. She’s naked, with no money, in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t have a lot of options.”

  “She has options you can’t fathom, you stupid fuck.”

  “Well, if you aren’t going after her, maybe you can tell me where I screwed up. She was naked in the cage, metal shackle on her ankle. How in the hell did she get out?”

  He followed me into the house, and I had to smile as I saw she’d used her fingernail as a shim. I showed Gonzo, and he crossed his arms, pissed. “How did she get out of the cage? It was still locked! And I’d have heard it open, and the alarm would’ve gone off, to wake me.”

  “She’s tiny, and you’re an idiot. This cell was built for big guys we turn into werewolves, not a little slip of a woman.”

  I walked out of the house without another word, and thought about my best option as I jogged back to my bike.

  She’d have to drive until she found signs directing her to civilization, and with no clothes, she wasn’t likely to drive into a populated area.

  I knew how she’d think, but she knew how I’d chase her, which nullified pretty much everything I knew. However, even though my chances of finding her on these endless country roads were practically zero, I still wandered around on them until nearly daylight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ice

  I followed the signs to Dalton, Georgia, and made my way to a truck stop. I looked them all over, and settled on a privately owned setup, with a late thirties driver who didn’t look exhausted.

  I opened the jacket, which came to just below my ass, and flashed him as I approached his truck. He rolled his window down to talk to me, and I told him, “For thirty bucks and a ride to wherever you’re going, I’ll give you the ride of your life.”

 

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