Beyond Anon

by Giglio, Peter

  “You’re not a god.”

  “Don’t worry, brother. I’m not asking you to worship me, and I’ll try to go as easy on you as I can.”

  A scream rang out.

  “Dear old Dad,” Rory said, “isn’t getting the same mercy.”

  “What do you want?”

  “What do you think we want? We want Michelle.”

  “And you? What are you?”

  “I was the key to finding you and Dad, for which I have been rewarded with—”

  “And what good will I do you?”

  “The girl cares about you, Reggie. She relies on you. You’re a fucking hostage!”

  “As soon as they have what they want, you’ll be back in The Void.”

  Rory nodded, crouching low and running a gentle hand through Reggie’s hair. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I have what I want now, which is more than I ever thought I’d have again. Anything, dear brother, is a tempting incentive for someone with nothing, don’t you think?”

  “Don’t you see what’s happening?” Reggie pleaded. “You’re falling into the same trap again. How can you be such a fool after everything you went through before?”

  Rory made his fingers into claws and swiped them across Reggie’s exposed stomach. Intense pain ignited a high-pitched scream, blood gushing from Reggie’s gut. He closed his eyes, fighting back the agony that blazed trails through every fiber of his wounded psyche.

  When he opened his eyes, after what seemed like hours, his physical wounds were gone and so was the pain.

  “We can do this forever,” Rory said. “Or…you can be a good boy and stop telling me what I’m doing wrong for a change. The tables, you see, have turned. I’m in control now.”

  “Rory, I love you.”

  “No, you don’t. You love the idea of love. You love beauty and art. But if you loved me you would have led me to your country club in the sky, where you and Dad play tennis and sit on the beach and write music and share stories. You didn’t, did you? I was led to believe that I was caught up in matters of Heaven and Hell, when really all of this is just another layer of terrestrial bullshit. Strange, I’ll grant you, but hardly deep. You convinced me to sacrifice myself, and so I did. I had that bitch where I wanted her, and you stepped in and doomed me to a cage of cold nothing.”

  “I don’t make the rules. I’m sorry.”

  “Did you try, brother? Did you or dear old Dad make a case for me? Or was I dismissed without a defense?”

  Reggie searched himself but came up empty. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Dad told me that—”

  “Trust me,” Rory said, “that’s why he’s getting the sharper end of the stick.”

  “But the rules are clear. The vibration of a corrupted aspect cannot be lifted from The Void.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Unless…a prisoner from The Old World is released in place of…”

  A smile cracked Rory’s otherwise stilted face. “The Game is in motion. And this time your side will lose.”

  —Chapter Thirteen—

  1

  The first thing Michelle said when Laura answered the phone was, “Can you get a car?”

  Laura, who had been getting ready for a party, stopped putting on her makeup and replied, “Well, hello to you, too.”

  “Listen, Laura. I don’t have time to explain right now. Can you or can you not get a car?”

  “Don’t you have your mom’s—”

  “No! I need your help and I don’t have anyone else to reach out to. You’re the only person I can trust right now.”

  “Hold on.”

  Laura stepped into her shared living quarters, where her roommate was already decked out in next-to-nothing and looking anxious.

  “You ready to go yet, bitch?” Fatima asked. She giggled then added, “I’m ready to get my drink on.”

  “Settle down. I need to ask you for a big favor.”

  “Oh shit, here we go.”

  “No, this is serious. I let you use our room to entertain all the time, don’t I?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “There’s something wrong back home, and I need to use your car.”

  “Shit, is that all?” Fatima snatched her keychain from a table by her bed. Then she pulled off the car key and handed it to Laura. “Gonna fill it up with gas for me, right?”

  “I will, and thank you.”

  “Damn, hooker, you’re gonna miss an epic party.”

  “That’s what you say about every party.”

  Fatima cackled and said, “Haven’t been wrong yet.”

  Putting the phone back to her face, Laura headed for the door.

  “Hey, do me a favor,” Fatima called out, “wreck the damn thing—I fucking hate that P.O.S.”

  Ignoring her roommate, Laura stepped into the hallway, where a throng of scantily-clad girls paraded partyward. “Okay,” she said, “I have a car—now what?”

  “Thank you. Now get here as fast as you can,” Michelle said.

  2

  Ten miles into the drive, Laura understood why her roommate hated the car. For one, the stereo didn’t work, not even the radio. And when she turned on the heater in response to the chilly fall night, a hectoring cacophony, alternating between a whine and rattle, came from the vents instead of hot air. But the smell was the worst feature—the backseat littered with countless fast-food bags and Lord-only-knew what.

  Still, Laura continued south, damning herself with every passing mile. Tense, she cracked the window and lit a cigarette, but that didn’t help. She’d left in such a hurry that she’d forgotten a jacket, and she hadn’t changed out of the skimpy halter-top she’d borrowed from Fatima. Why was she trying to fit in so hard? Overcompensating, she told herself. Trying to make up for everything she’d missed in high school, which had, in a lot of ways, been Michelle’s fault.

  Here she was, skipping out on another right-of-passage, as she’d done so many times before; doing it, once more, for Michelle.

  “Bitch better love me,” she mumbled, flicking away the half-smoked Camel. She rolled up the window, shivering, and mirthlessly laughed at herself.

  Every exit ramp signaled a chance to escape, temptations she knew she shouldn’t resist. But the imprint of Mom grabbing her and leaving their home, and the hurt expression on her father’s face, loomed large and eternal in her mind’s eye.

  Michelle, as Laura saw it, was family. And family was all that really mattered in the end.

  3

  Pacing back and forth across the driveway, Michelle waited for Laura. She took a few steps, looked at her watch. Took a few more, looked again. Moments like these, she understood why people smoked.

  Headlights approached, and Michelle stepped closer to the curb. With a shudder, she recognized the approaching car. Faith’s Lexus.

  Consumed by fear, she fumbled with her phone. Managed to gain control. Speed-dialed Laura.

  Two short rings, Dawn pulling into the driveway, then: “Hello.”

  “How far away are you?”

  “Five minutes. Oak Lawn is the next exit.”

  “Hurry! Shit’s about to explode around here!” Michelle hung up as her sister slammed the car door.

  “Why wouldn’t you talk to me at work?” Dawn shouted.

  Michelle, unable to meet Dawn’s stare, looked into the night sky and thought about Laura. In all the madness, she was doing a terrible thing by bringing her best friend into the stew. Irreversible now, she told herself. All she could do was her best to protect the girl she loved. Counterintuitive logic, she realized, but she was a raging mess, tired of rules and what passed as reason.

  “Still not talking to me, huh?” Dawn said.

  Michelle lowered her head and sneered. “Get out of here, bitch!”

  “I’m your sister, Michelle. If I hadn’t made the deal I did then I never would have seen you again. Do you understand that? Do you understand the amount of torture I endured? What would you have done in the same situation? I want
to know! I was promised that we could be together again, and that you wouldn’t be hurt.”

  “You hurt me bad, Dawn. You fucking betrayed me.” Michelle tried to yank the bracelet from her wrist, but it wouldn’t come off. “Fucking piece of shit!” she bellowed, struggling with the clasp.

  “I didn’t give that to you,” Dawn said weakly.

  “Then who the fuck did?”

  Dawn slowly shook her head. “That’s a common symbol in The Land of Shadows. I can only assume it’s some kind of tracking device.”

  “You knew that earlier, didn’t you? When you saw it in the kitchen—I’ll be damned! Why didn’t you fucking tell me then? Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “I couldn’t. I shouldn’t even be telling you now.”

  “Well, gee, thanks.”

  Suddenly, a beat-up Ford Escort jumped the curb in front of the house. Laura, engine still rattling, leaped out of the car. “What’s going on?” she shouted. “What’s the fucking emergency?”

  Dawn’s eyes turned inward, as if she were lapsing into some kind of trance. Thinking fast, Michelle grabbed the keys from her sister’s limp hand and ran toward the Lexus. “Come with me,” she yelled at Laura. “That piece of shit isn’t going to do the job.”

  The girls slid into the car. Michelle started the ignition.

  “What the fuck?” Laura said, looking through the driver’s side window.

  Michelle followed her friend’s disbelieving gaze and saw Dawn, hair billowing in the still night, eyes blazing hellfire.

  As Dawn reached into her jacket, Michelle slammed the transmission into reverse and floored the accelerator. She spun the car into the street—Dawn fast approaching with an aimed handgun—shifted into drive, and punched the gas again.

  Tires squealed. A gunshot rang out.

  Laura and Michelle ducked their heads as Michelle navigated the narrow street.

  “Are you hit?” Michelle shouted.

  “I-I don’t—what the fuck?—I, uh, don’t think so.” Laura patted her body several times for reassurance, breathing heavily.

  Slowing down a little, but not much, Michelle took a series of sharp turns, heading toward the highway.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Laura demanded. “Your sister was—”

  “We have a long drive in front of us. I’ll explain on the way.”

  “You might want to slow down a little, Shell. We’re gonna get pulled over.”

  But Michelle kept driving fast, digging her foot deeper into the gas after bounding onto Highway 71.

  “W-where are we going?” Laura asked.

  “Wyoming.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Turn this car around—I can’t go to Wyoming!”

  “Would you rather face down the barrel of a gun?” Michelle barked.

  Laura had no response.

  “Besides, you don’t have to,” Michelle said, doing her best to sound calm. “I’ll drop you off in the city.”

  “Why don’t you come stay with me for a while—goddamnit, bitch, slow the fucking car down!”

  Michelle eased up on the gas, letting the car decelerate to a few miles above the posted speed limit. Laura was right. There was no reason to draw attention. It wasn’t like Dawn was in fast pursuit on foot.

  “You’re going to Wyoming with or without me, aren’t you?” Laura asked.

  “I have no choice.”

  “And it will be dangerous.”

  “Very.”

  “Then I’m coming, too.”

  “No, I’ll drop you off.”

  “Earth to Michelle—then why the fuck did I fly to your rescue? I’m not a white knight!”

  “It was a mistake. A moment of weakness.”

  “I’m coming, end of discussion.”

  “I love you, Laura.”

  “I love you, too. But you better not think all this danger and excitement is going to make me fuck you.”

  “Furthest thing from my mind.”

  Nothing was said between them for a few miles. Then Laura asked, “Can I smoke?”

  “Yeah, and give me one.”

  Laura cracked the window and lit two cigarettes while Michelle cranked up the heater. She handed one of the smokes to Michelle, who took a drag and exhaled with a stumbling cough.

  “Smooth, huh?” Laura asked.

  Flicking the cigarette out her window, Michelle, still coughing, managed, “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Hey, Michelle,” Laura asked in a serious tone, “what the hell happened back there? And don’t tell me you can’t tell me. I can’t un-see that shit, though I’d like to, and—”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” Michelle said. “But you’ve got to promise to listen until I’m finished. If you’re scared to shreds by the time we reach Kansas City, and there’s a good chance you will be, you let me know. I’ll be glad to drop you back at school. Fair enough?”

  “Sounds good.”

  With that, Michelle launched into the harsh and unforgivable truth.

  4

  When Dawn stormed into the house, the kitten regarded her with a curiously titled head. She looked down at the animal and shouted, “It’s over. Your precious Michelle has run away from home!”

  In response, the kitten slowly changed; fur turning to flesh, eyes becoming human, slowly rising from the floor until the little female cat was a very naked Van Masters.

  “That’s a shame,” he said. “I really enjoyed making biscuits on those big jugs of hers.”

  “You’re sick,” Dawn said with disgust. Yet she couldn’t deny a certain attraction to the snake. He had a toned, perfect body. The thought of him as a kitten in her sister’s arms was sickening, of course, but so was her deserting, bitch sister.

  He approached her slowly. Putting his hands on her, he pressed his hard manhood into her midsection.

  “I can’t,” Dawn said. “I have business I need to take care of.”

  “That’s a shame,” he whispered in her ear. Warm breath cascaded down her neck, making her weak.

  “Well,” she said, “I guess I have ten minutes.”

  5

  Laura hung on every word, never interrupting. Wracked with tremors, she tried to dismiss everything Michelle said, but she couldn’t. She’d seen the horrifying eyes of Dawn, and she didn’t believe in shared hallucinations. Michelle was wired differently—there was no denying that—but she told her story with conviction. Even if it wasn’t all true, Michelle believed it was.

  Laura cringed when Michelle talked about Steve Mann. The whole convoluted mess gave her a moment of pause. Michelle had—though she claimed it was indirect—something to do with Steve’s death. Laura didn’t know whether to process that as betrayal or madness or nobility.

  She leaned toward the latter as she listened to the rest of the tragic recounting.

  A few miles into Kansas City Metro, Michelle finished, and a long moment of silence followed.

  Finally, Laura said, “I’m in. Keep going.”

  “You sure?”

  “I can’t let you face this shit alone, Shell. You’re the only real friend I have.”

  “Hey, are you getting fresh with me?”

  The girls laughed, Michelle merging onto I-435 North. Laura savored the moment, sensing it would be the last joy they shared for a long while.

  6

  They stopped for gas in Lincoln, Nebraska. Michelle unhooked the nozzle from the pump while Laura stretched.

  “I need to go to the bathroom and get something to drink,” Laura said. “Do you want anything?”

  “No,” Michelle said. “But wait. Damn pump is credit card or pre-pay.” She slipped a hundred-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to Laura. “Buy seventy dollars worth.”

  Laura took the money and headed into the store. She handed the bill to an old woman and said, “Seventy on pump four.” The refusal to use plastic didn’t strike her as logical until she looked up at the TV behind the counter and saw Michelle’s yearbook photogra
ph.

  A reporter was saying: “…wanted in connection to the murder of Steve Mann, also of Oak…” A blurry photograph of Steve Mann appeared next to Michelle’s. “…if you have any information on the whereabouts of…”

  “Anything else?” the clerk asked, handing thirty dollars to Laura.

  Laura unglued her eyes from the screen and clumsily pocketed the change. “No, uh…”

  “See ya got Missouri plates. Grew up in Missouri myself,” the woman said. “Springfield—birthplace of Brad Pitt and Bass Pro Shops!” She flashed a nicotine-stained smile then added, “We always called it ‘Misery.’ Folks still do that?”

  “Sometimes,” Laura said weakly.

  “Some things never change,” the old woman said with a laugh. “You girls have a nice night.”

  “Uh, yeah…you, too.” Laura staggered out of the store and rushed to the car, Michelle still pumping gas. Standing close to her friend, doing her best to protect her from probable surveillance cameras, Laura said, “You’re all over the news. Wanted in connection with Steve’s death.”

  “Fuck my life!” Michelle shouted.

  “Hey, sucks for me, too. Now I’m an accomplice.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, can’t say you didn’t warn me, but you better hurry up.”

  “Can’t pump any faster, Einstein.”

  “I know, but isn’t that something you’re supposed to say when things are urgent?”

  “It’s kinda like asking a weeping widow if they’re sad. So, yeah, it’s one of those things people say, but it’s also dumbass as hell.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Look, this is getting crazy. Why don’t you ditch me here? You can take a bus back to—”

  “I’m already on camera,” Laura said. “Do you honestly think I’m safer with you or in the hands of Anon?”

  “Good point.” Michelle hung the nozzle back on the pump. “Let’s jam, clam!”

  “How are you holding onto your sense of humor right now?” Laura asked, getting into the car.