Flutter

by L. E. Green

folder was full of files that Larry had secretly kept on Abigail, starting with pictures of her he had downloaded off the security cameras at the pub. He had pictures of her from all angles. Unbeknownst to Frankie, Larry’s curiosity had gotten the best of him. He even had photos of the items in her purse, including a scan of her license.

  05101990

  “May 10th 1990. This age may not be accurate, but I’ll start here.” He assumed Abigail was in her early to middle 20’s so he narrowed his search to begin with women born in 1987 to 1992 just in case.

  “This is better than nothing,” he said as he adjusted his glasses. The search narrowed down to 150 or so. He narrowed the search again to women who had gone missing in the past year. The candidates dropped down to 56 names.

  “This is more manageable.”

  Larry was obsessed.

  THE ORANGE LINE

  The train had about ten other people in their section. Each person had something occupying their time during the squeaky and shaky ride provided courtesy of the MBTA. One woman had a toddler in a stroller. The little boy wore a small Celtics jersey and white shoes. He sucked a bottle and stared at Abigail, smiling and giggling. Roger noticed Abigail’s face light up as she waved back at the little boy. She blew him a kiss and the child laughed.

  Roger commented, “Wow! He gets a lot more action than I do.”

  “What can I say? I have a thing for cute faces.” She stuck out her tongue at the little boy and waved again. The boy giggled. His mother was totally unaware of the interaction. She was heavily focused on a game on her iPad. Roger was surprised that Abigail was showing a softer side. Maybe she isn’t a machine after all. Probably just an alien.

  Another man on the train was obviously a business man, or at least appeared to be one. He was ferociously texting and grunting. At one point he opened his briefcase and flipped through the papers, then sent another text. His phone rang, and he picked up. “I’m getting off at the next stop. Just wait! I’ll have it ready.” He hung up the phone, jammed the papers back into a folder before he stuffed a small pile of folders back into the briefcase. He took a few heavy breaths as the train slowed for the Downtown Crossing stop.

  Over the intercom a mechanical voice spoke. “Next stop Downtown Crossing.” At this stop Abigail and Roger would also get off the train so that they could transfer to the Red Line. The train slowed to a halt and the doors opened. When they had all exited, the man loosened his tie and took off running through the station.

  As they stood on the platform, Roger and Abigail noticed an LED sign displaying “THE RED LINE IS NO LONGER RUNNING FOR MAINTENANCE PURPOSES AND WILL RESUME AT 7AM... PLEASE TAKE THE SHUTTLE…”

  “Oh great!” Abigail was tired and wanted to get back Frankie’s.

  “Let’s just walk.” Roger was frustrated and figured walking for an hour was better than the other options.

  “Yeah, we might as well just keep moving.”

  Abigail and Roger exited the platform through the turnstile. They left the station and walked down the street. It was very late and quiet on the road. Roger insisted that they take a short cut through an alley, which seemed like the most reasonable thing to do. They were joking and laughing as they passed through the smelly, dank passage.

  “This smells worse than Frankie’s alley.”

  “This smells like the basement at the end of the week.” Abigail suddenly stopped in her tracks.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Roger.

  Abigail looked around. She whispered, “Something’s not right. Come back.”

  “You’re just being scary. Come on.”

  “We can’t see through here, Rog.”

  “It’s fine. As long as you can see the other side, then you know which way to go. Come on. I’ve walked through here a hundred times.” Abigail reluctantly followed Roger, watching every dark corner.

  Midway through the alley, Abigail grabbed Roger’s collar and pulled him back just as a knife swung through the air. The blade barely missed Roger’s throat. Roger grabbed his neck and gasped for air. Three men wearing all black emerged from the darkness, barely visible to the eye until they were about two arms’ length away. Abigail’s senses were heightened. Everything suddenly magnified around her. She could feel her senses expanding within her body. She could hear another man who was still hiding in the shadows. She looked in his direction and worried that his intentions were worse than the others. Then, she quickly assessed their surroundings.

  “There is another one hiding over there. I can smell him.”

  Roger was completely frightened and perplexed. He couldn’t see the man Abigail was talking about, and the other men were closing in on them. He felt extremely helpless but felt the need to do what any other man would do in this situation. He stepped in front of Abigail to protect her. He pleaded to the men, “It’s cool. It’s cool. We don’t want any trouble. We just want to pass through.”

  “We’re taking your money,” one of the perpetrators said with a raspy voice. He wiped his nose with his sleeve.

  “And the bitch. We’re taking her, too,” the second man said as he flipped open a knife. “Let her go.”

  “Move out of the way,” the third man demanded. Abigail could tell that he was the weakest of the three. She could sense a bit of fear in his voice.

  They waved around their knives. Slight reflections of light sparked of the sharp tips of the blades.

  “I can’t give you the girl. Just take our money. We won’t say anything, we just want to go.”

  “We’re not asking for permission,” the first thug was clearly leading this attack. He was the most aggressive.

  The three men circled around Abigail and Roger. Roger was horrified but wouldn’t allow himself to back down. Though they were outnumbered, Abigail was eerily calm. He mind was calculating distances and depths. Roger knew they were in serious trouble. He was also calculating. He figured he could take out one of them, but knew a full out fight would be hopeless. “When you get a chance, run. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You have to. We don’t have a choice.”

  Without warning Abigail, Roger tried a surprise attack method and threw the first punch knocking one man off his feet. Immediately the other men swung their knives. The knives cut through the air slicing Roger’s arm. Roger pushed Abigail away just as the men closed in and attacked him. He fought back as much as he could. Punch after punch flew through the air but Roger was beginning to lose steam. Abigail didn’t want to run, so she tried to pull the men off of Roger.

  “Let him go!” She pulled one man by his jacket. Two of the men tossed her off like a rag doll. Abigail hit the ground with a hard thud, keeping her eye on the corner where she was sure she heard another person. Just then, someone pulled her hood, choking her. The man dragged her to the other side of the alley. She was kicking and tugging back on her collar in her attempt to catch her breath. The other two men were pounding on Roger; it was hopeless. The man let her go. She lay on the concrete for a brief moment, trying to catch her breath. Abigail quickly gained back control and pounced onto her feet. Roger was barely moving. Two men stopped beating Roger, and the first perpetrator who had started it all approached Abigail.

  Roger found just enough strength to utter the word, “Run!”

  Abigail looked at the end of the alley but refused to run. The other two men held down Roger as they rummaged through his pockets. The first perpetrator backed Abigail against the wall. He grabbed her face and smiled. He suddenly slapped her in the face. All went silent. His hand also popped her in the ear and a ringing sound echoed through her head. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She was afraid and fearless at the same time. Part of her told her to run, while the other part made her feel like she had to stay and fight. Roger was yelling something to her, but she couldn’t hear anything except the beat of her own heart. The other man who was hiding in the dark emerged.

  “Why are you fools still playing with this littl
e girl and her faggot friend?” He spit on the ground as he walked closer. The first perpetrator saw him coming. He released her face, allowing the man from the shadows to take over. He looked at Roger and told him, “Yell again, and I kill her without a second thought.” He looked at Abigail. He placed a knife against her nose. He harshly grabbed her hair and cut it. He took a chunk of it off the left side. He smelled it and rubbed it across his face. He ran the knife up the hoodie, cutting it loose. He ripped off her hoodie. “This is gonna be fun.” He turned to Roger. “You can watch if you like.”

  Unexpectedly, the man from the shadows punched Abigail in the face, and she saw a spark. Her head slammed against the brick wall causing her to go into a daze. She lost consciousness for a second as everything became a blur. Her body slumped, and she slid down the wall. She could still hear the ringing in her head, which only intensified.

  Behind the ringing, she heard one of her attacker’s voice say, “Get up and turn around.” He intended to rape her and pass her off to his buddies who were still holding Roger to the ground with their boots.

  Roger was badly beaten but managed a few words. Softly he mumbled, “Please let her go.”

  The attackers were ready to rape. One looked at Roger with a stiff evil look and said, “Don’t worry. After the show, you’re next. Some of my brothers like boys, too.”

  Roger squirmed to get away but their hold was too tight.

  Abigail straightened herself up as much as she could. She looked at Roger, pleading with her eyes for him to find a little strength, whatever he could muster up, and get away. They caught each other’s glance for a moment before the man from the shadows reached back and punched Abigail in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. The men laughed. She lost her breath and with that, the world was spinning. The perpetrators were all laughing as she gasped for air but it would not fill her lungs. Her nose was bleeding. Her sight was fading. Staggering, she took a few steps forward. Her face was bruised and blood dripped from her mouth. Her eyes were watering. Roger shouted her name, but she could only hear the pounding thud of her heart beat. It slowed down and slowed and slowed until it stopped. She was not breathing heavily but her body went cold and stiff.

  Suddenly, she gasped for air; but it was an inhale as if the breath of life had been returned to her body. Her face extended towards the sky. Her arms stiffened and stretch firm down towards the ground. A wave of heat emitted from her head and flowed into her mouth. As she sucked in the air, her chest expanded. The veins in her arms popped. When she opened her eyes, they were illuminated to the color of ocean blue. They were like two blue glowing bulbs. Her canine teeth extended ever so slightly. The men’s laughs slowly but surely ceased. She snapped her head down to look around. From the lenses of her eyes she could suddenly see everything, almost as if the lights had been turned on in a very dark place. Her head turned to the left, then quickly to the right. Instantaneously she absorbed and analyzed everything around her, calculating the men’s location, Roger’s location, the escape distance, their weight and height. Within a few seconds she analyzed their muscle mass, speed, and potential stamina. She also analyzed and sensed a growing fear surrounding them. The cruel men suddenly stepped backwards, slowly releasing Roger. Roger was too surprised to get up to his feet. He too, was afraid.

  Abigail walked as if the perpetrators did not alarm her. She walked past them over to Roger and picked him up with supernatural strength. She set him on his feet. Her head whipped around. She looked at the men. She ran toward them so fast that she became a blur. She took the perpetrators one by one into the dark and broke their necks, ripping them from their shoulders, tossing their limbs across the alley. She moved so quickly they didn’t have time to get away. One by one she ran in, grabbing them before they disappeared together into a dark corner. She broke their necks, ripping them from their shoulders, tossing their limbs across the ally. Each stood there in shock and could not move as they watched the others come and go. Three down, one to go.

  The perpetrator from the shadows had been the last to participate in the attack. And he will be the last to go down.

  He stood there, frightened, unsure of what to do. He urinated on himself. She watched him for a few seconds, then disappeared into a shadow. He backed up, unsure where her attack would come from, but he knew it was coming. “WHERE ARE YOU? YOU FUCKING BITCH! FUCK YOU!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, but no one could hear him. She breathed, growled and drooled stalking the man. “Where are you?” He mumbled. Tears flowed down his face. He had never been so afraid.

  She suddenly appeared from the other side of him, creeping out of another shadow. How did she get over there? She walked around, stalking him, slowly approaching. He couldn’t take the pressure and pulled out a gun. She ran directly towards him. He fired and missed. He fired again. She came towards him fearlessly. He was too sick to run. She reached him but instead of smashing into him she hopped onto the wall. On all fours she gripped the wall climbing around, as he fired at her. She ran in an arch over his head. He tried to run when suddenly she appeared behind him and snapped his neck. She tore him apart, limb by limb.

  Covered in blood, Abigail saw Roger standing across the alley, holding his groin. She walked over to him. Her breathing was fast. Her chest went up and down like a pump. He was mortified. “Abigail?”

  She didn’t answer but walked closer and closer.

  “ABIGAIL! Abby. Elvis?” She kept coming until she was directly in his face. He pleaded, “Ok. Maybe Elvis was a bad idea. Wait, wait. It’s me!” He gripped his crotch, trying to hold back from urinating on himself.

  Abigail showed her teeth as she growled at Roger.

  “Me… Roger. Me good. Me, friend! Me, friend!” His pleading was ineffective. She did not answer but sniffed around him like she was inspecting another potential meal. The glow of her blue eyes dimmed, but her eyes were still blue. Roger backed up toward the building behind him. She followed him and placed herself nose to nose with Roger. “What the fuck. Me, Roger. Me, Friend! Me good! Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me.”

  Suddenly, Abigail backed away, reached her arms towards the sky and pulled them down quickly. She breathed out heavily, and the heat she had inhaled released, going back into the air, surrounding her head and seeping back into the crown of her head. One more gasp and she returned to herself. Her eyes were brown again. She shouted, “Roger!”

  “ELVIS MOTHER FUCKIN PRESLEY!!! What the hell was that?!”

  “We have to go!”

  “No shit! Can you run?”

  “Hell yeah!”

  “RUN!” Roger insisted. Abigail and Roger began to run. “Wait, wait, wait.” Roger went back to where the chunk of Abigail’s hair was. He found it next to her hooded shirt. He scooped up as much as he could, grabbed Abigail’s hoodie; and they took off. “Let’s go.” Roger and Abigail ran toward the street and disappeared around the corner.

  CHAPTER 9

  SLIPPING AWAY

  EARLY MORNING

  Early morning at about quarter past three, the sun had not yet risen. Finch crept out of Brown’s apartment while he was asleep. He didn’t notice. She had quickly slipped on her clothes, gotten into her car and left to go home.

  Finch walked into her house, sat on the couch and took off her shoes. She played with the engagement ring on her finger. Her eyes watered. She got up from the couch and left the living room. She went into the bathroom and washed the tears and make up from her face. She went back into her room, changed her clothes and lay in the bed. No sooner had she closed her eyes to get in a couple hours of sleep then she snapped her body up straight. She knew she had heard something or someone. She tip toed out of the bed and grabbed her pistol off the dresser top. She checked to make sure it was fully loaded. She cocked the trigger back.

  Finch walked quietly through the house with her gun raised. She peeked around each corner as she stepped through to the front door. She checked the door. It was locked. She walked through the house to the back
door. It, too, was locked. She looked to see if any windows were open, but nothing was abnormal. She could sense someone was in the house but could not find anyone. She was frustrated. Fear grew in her heart. She prayed this wasn’t one of Pearson’s goons coming to get her after a long silence. She went back into her room and upon entering, she opened her mouth wide and dropped the gun on the floor.

  She asked, “Why are you doing this to me?” She cried, placing her hand on her forehead.

  ABIGAIL’S ROOM

  At about 3:30 am Abigail and Roger arrived at the bar. They entered through the back door in the alley. She and Roger were both bruised and covered in blood, both theirs and their assailants. Abigail and Roger tiptoed into the kitchen and grabbed a black bag. She ran hot water in the sink. Roger was shaken up. Abigail was strangely calm. She had done this before. When Roger had first met Abigail, she was cold and hard. In the past few months she had softened up, becoming more personable and less introverted. That cold stranger was back looking at Roger the way she used to, like he was an empty, meaningless shell.

  She went into the closet and grabbed a bottle of bleach.

  She demanded, “Take off your shoes.”

  Roger complied fearfully. She looked at Roger without an ounce of sympathy. He was distraught but yet again holding on very well. He was in shock. She plugged up the sink so that the water would collect. The two of them stood in their underwear, covering up the mess they had created.

  “Get a mop,” she ordered again.

  Roger grabbed the mop without hesitation, totally trusting in Abigail’s direction. He thought, Maybe the SUPER BEAST will return if I refuse. He didn’t know what else to say or do, so he complied without objection.

  Abigail dropped the mop into the bleach water and soaked it again and again– not sparing an ounce of bleach. She told Roger to mop the floor from the door into the kitchen. He did as he was told. He brought the mop back. She rinsed it in the bleach again and told him to do it again. He did this three times. In the meantime, Abigail dropped their clothes into the water to soak. She finally let the mop and the clothes sit in the bleach water– the color of their clothes faded before their eyes.