by Ally Thomas
“It doesn’t work that way. She’s a smart lady. She doesn’t give out her number.”
I heard T sigh. Then he asked, “How do you contact her?”
“Shut up, man,” Nathan hissed. When Nathan hissed at any of us, it meant we needed to shut up.
An uncomfortable silence filled the air again.
“Fine. I’m gonna get another beer,” T announced and rushed off.
“Don’t stay gone too long!” Nathan shouted after him. His impatience was showing in his voice, even with T.
***
I jerked my head up when I realized I had fallen asleep. I glanced around, searching for Nathan and T. Had they left? Could I be that lucky? Quickly I brushed off my navy flannel jacket to act like I was brushing away lint or crumbs from peanut shells from the set of small wooden bowls scattered across the table. The idea of eating anything made me nauseated.
I knew my main goal tonight was to stay conscious until the crowd in the bar picked up. The usual anxiety I experienced while being in Nathan’s company was changing into calmness, almost peace. It probably wouldn’t be much longer. Were they really gone? Maybe I could stand up and look around for them?
I leaned slightly forward, hoping to exit my chair and a wave of nausea seized me. It was worse than before. I’ll sit here for a few minutes, I decided. Then I’ll ask if anyone has seen Nathan. Maybe they’ll remember he used to work here.
Glancing up at the moon, I attempted to visualize a skull’s face coming out of the evening moon, a flaming skull that would zero in on Nathan and stop him in his tracks like a runaway comet. Out of nowhere my recollection of the time I had told Max he should change the name of his bar came to me.
“Why should we call it the Golden Skull? What is a golden skull? Why not silver or blazing. Oh! The Flaming Skull. Max, that’s it!” I had said.
Max reminded me a lot of Jerry Garcia from the Grateful Dead. He was a cool, hippy version of Santa Claus. I could not help but love the man.
“I appreciate your suggestions, darling. But I named it after Jeremy’s mother, God rest her soul. She had hair as golden as sunshine. I added skull to make it sound cooler. I can’t go and change it.”
I smiled at the moon and folded my arms around me. The wetness under my arm was sore and hurt like Hell. Hopefully the dark flannel pattern would hide the blood from my wounds.
“Okay, Max. Have it your way,” I said aloud, forgetting myself.
An image of Max’s face materialized across the moon. He smiled at me with that wink in his eye he had and flashed me a couple of gold capped front teeth. I had often thought that the bar had been named after his teeth and not his dearly departed wife of twenty years, but there was no arguing with Max. Suddenly the image faded.
I shifted again in my seat, and then froze catching my breath as the pain wrapped across my midsection with renewed fury. Maybe I could make it to the restroom to check my bandages? Slowly I exhaled. The pain floated away, however briefly. I hesitated. The brilliance of the moon caught my eye again. Quickly I resumed my thoughts about the good memories I had had once in this bar. I was going to miss this place.
If I had sold Max on the idea of calling the place the Flaming Skull, I could easily have a weapon to use on Nathan and T when they returned. I could be sitting here waiting with several skull-shaped shot glasses full of whiskey, eyeballing them to see if they would ignite. Wouldn’t that be fun? I hadn’t tested the trick I supposedly got the night of my transformation, but I was fairly sure I could make inanimate objects burst into flames. It was worth a try. Wasn’t it? But attempting to do it to a person was probably a pipe dream.
I imagined myself waltzing over to Max, who I knew was usually sitting at the end of the bar by his precious vintage cigarette vending machine, and pitching my idea to him including the crispy critter Nathan and T scenario to see if he’d give me my old job back. I hadn’t ever asked my former boss what he thought of my boyfriend, but seeing the twisted frown surface on his winkled face when Nathan appeared in the bar was enough proof.
Since I was unable to stand, I resigned myself to settling in the chair next to me, so I would have my back to the windows. Maybe I could spot Nathan and T? Could I make a run for it then? I searched the back of the bar, looking past Max’s cigarette machine. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the customers sitting at a large square table near the exit door. She seemed very comfortable at her table, typing on her laptop and texting now and again on her phone. She played with a few strands of her long black hair while she rested one hand on the keyboard, thinking. It did not take much more observation to see she was a confident lady, strong and decisive. I instantly wanted to hate her, but I did not have a good reason to do so. I was being silly. She and I were on the same team, being female. Suddenly I remembered I did not have any girlfriends really. Just Nathan and T. I was always surrounded by men. I dismissed the line of absurdity my thinking was taking, and focused on my current situation.
Maybe this woman had seen Nathan and T? There was something odd about her. Despite knowing it was risky on my part to be staring at anyone, I continued to admire her. I could not help it. If only I could make contact with this woman. Would she help me?
Jeremy appeared at her table with a glass skull shaped bottle. It looked like it was about the size of a cantaloupe and had a gold cap. Yes, that’s right. Max’s brand of tequila. That could be the flaming skull, I thought. Had Max really started selling a line of his own liquors? Well good for him. Maybe he had taken me up on that idea after all. I smiled to myself.
As Jeremy placed the bottle on the table, he paused for a moment, talking to her. The woman shook her head and smiled at Jeremy. He walked away. Then the woman looked over at me. I froze. I did not realize she had become aware of my watching her. What could I do? Could I plead for help, motion for her to join me? “I’ll kill em all.” Nathan’s threat sounded again in my head.
A sharp pain in my left side brought me back to reality and reminded me escaping my current situation was not a possibility. I had made that decision after I had gotten off the phone with Nathan, and I had to stick to it. All negative thoughts he had towards me, he shared freely. And when I had refused to play along with Nathan and his gang, he had decided to get rid of me. But not in the way a person would normally do like just breaking up with the other person. Nathan had decided to sell me as a commodity to this woman he had met on the internet, the Stephanie chic.
As if I were ignoring my one opportunity at freedom, I decided to forget the black haired lady sitting at the table and looked away.
Chapter 3 – Keep Walking
Author’s Note: This chapter is told from Grace, the heroine’s point of view.
“Grace, stop daydreaming.” Nathan appeared over my right shoulder. His clothes smelled like weed. T slid into the chair next to me, near the windows, grinning like an idiot. Both of them were high. In the past, I could not tell when Nathan was stoned. I instantly knew now, but I did not care. It did not matter anymore. Others could not tell, but I could. Maybe the weed did not work for him the way it once did, or maybe Nathan was interested in other ways to get his kicks like using a knife to slice up his girlfriend. With T, it was obvious to everyone around. He thought if Nathan got high with him, they were best buddies again. After hearing Nathan say that T would be a sacrifice for some ceremony, it was evident what T’s future was. I could not help but feel sorry for the guy.
I elected to ignore them, pretending I was still focusing on the goings-on outside. A very handsome man briefly caught my dazed attention as he passed by and I heard myself make a quick, soft gasp. Who’s that? I thought.
“What do you think is wrong with her tonight?”
I heard Nathan sigh at T’s question. “I don’t know, but I don’t have time for this shit. Will you get her attention please?”
I knew to expect a flood of renewed pain before the blow came. It was T’s way of showing he had the upper hand, not me. He could not lightly
tap me on the shoulder or wave his hand in my direction. He had to be a smart-ass and punch me in the stomach. He had to remind me he was Nathan’s second in command, not me. He prided himself on the fact, that he had assumed my place in the group. Poor T. It was only a matter of time for him too.
Even though the pain radiated down my legs and up my arms, I managed to grit my teeth and remain conscious. I did not want Nathan to know he was selling off damaged goods. The multiple stab wounds I had given myself earlier in the day were deep. I had wrapped several wide strips of cloth around my waist to hide the bleeding. It was probably starting to show. Hoping knife wounds were as difficult to die from as being shot in the stomach, I was fairly certain it would take me between 16 to 24 hours to die, maybe less if I was lucky. I had hatched my death plan after I ended the call with Nathan. He forgot I could still read his thoughts, even over telephone lines. I knew he wanted to sell me off to the Stephanie chic for a meager five thousand dollars. Was that all I was worth? If I died in the bar and others saw me there lifeless, unconscious in front of these two jerks surely they’d call the police, surely someone would stop Nathan at some point. Hell, they could arrest him for carrying pot if nothing else. Wasn’t that illegal in the state of California?
Granted I realized after I had shoved the knife into my stomach the fifth time, it was a stupid idea. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. I probably was distraught, or I just panicked. That’s the appropriate word. I panicked. It was Nathan’s knife, the one he had used on me that night when he had sliced me up in front of his friends. I did not think to bring it with me. I could have planted it on him. Well like I said, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.
“Hey friend, did I just see you punch that lady in the stomach? What’s wrong with you?”
I did not recognize the man’s voice. Then I heard T reply, “Keep walking, GQ. This doesn’t concern you.”
Suddenly the tall man yanked a chair from the adjoining table and plopped down next to T. Sitting across from him, I admired the view. This stranger was the man I had seen pass by the window a few moments ago. He took my breath away. Casually I took inventory of his assets: dark blue jeans, light gray leather jacket, dark t-shirt, light blonde highlights scattered through his dark blonde hair, chiseled face, strong jaw, and amazing blue eyes, the color of sapphires. His clothes appeared to have been tailor-made to fit his exquisite physique. I could not take my eyes off of him. Now that’s what a knight in shining armor should look like, I decided.
As if he could hear my declaration, he gave me a devastating smile. My heart sank. Before I could stop myself, a stupid notion flew into my head. I wanted to live. I wanted to grab this stranger’s hand and run away with him. I did not care anymore. Where was he from? He had to be some actor from Los Angeles, visiting San Francisco for the weekend. He looked like he had walked off a movie set.
I recognized that all three guys were staring at me. A smirk settled on the stranger’s face while Nathan and T both glared at me. It was then I realized I had been panting while I gazed at the stranger, panting like a dog. Oh how embarrassing!
“A woman who knows what she wants when she sees it.” The stranger lifted a cigarette to his lips and lit it.
“There’s no smoking in here,” Nathan whined.
The stranger glanced at Nathan and then returned his attention to me. He inhaled deeply and blew cigarette smoke in both guys’ direction.
The smoke sent Nathan into a coughing fit.
Slightly I smiled.
“You don’t remember sending for me?” the stranger asked me.
Nathan and T both stopped what they were doing and turned around to stare at me. “What?!” Nathan bellowed. “What is he talking about Grace? I told you...”
“I did not send for anyone!” I corrected the stranger, knowing Nathan’s threat from earlier could become a reality. I did not want this guy to die as a result of a misunderstanding.
“Then why did you hurt yourself?” the stranger retaliated as he extinguished his smoke in Nathan’s remaining beer.
“I’ll kill this son-of-a-bitch,” Nathan started.
“No, no! We don’t have to do anything like that. Nathan, this guy is confused.” I pushed myself to a standing position. A sharp cramp hit me and I froze. “Clearly, clearly confused,” I added weakly. I fell into my chair. Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I rocked my body. If I could calm myself, I would forget the pain. Don’t focus on it, I thought. Forget it. Forget the pain. Forget it, I repeated over and over to myself. I chewed on my lip, hoping to hide my discomfort.
“Grace, I don’t have a lot of time. We need to get going.” The stranger’s voice was music to my ears. He studied me, waiting for a sign of objection.
“Who are you?” I whispered.
From out of nowhere, a jolt of energy hit me. The man’s eyes were as dark and powerful as he was. I probably lost all memory of my relationship with Nathan at that exact moment. I forgot the wounds pulsating in my stomach. Without warning, I felt nothing. I was weightless, free, drifting away. Was the stranger my way out? As I stared at him, I placed my hand over my mouth to close it shut, or to think, or just to buy time. Who are you? I thought.
Nathan erupted, “Grace, what have you done? You idiot! You’re bleeding!”
Startled by his yell, I removed my hand from my face and let it fall. I jerked involuntarily at the thud as it hit the table. The palm of my hand was covered in blood, my blood. Fear seized me. I could not breathe. I could not exhale. I could not do anything. Nathan would surely kill this man. I had to do something! But I could not. I stared blankly at my hand. Either I was having a panic attack or I was truly dying. Gazing at the dark reddish color of my blood, I lost all rational thought. What have I done?
Chapter 4 – Grace Meets the Angel of Death
Author’s Note: This chapter is told from Grace, the heroine’s point of view.
A few minutes passed. Maybe more. My eyes flew open. Nathan and T sat, hunched over each other at the table. They look like they were lovers, having just fallen asleep in each other arms. The stranger sat by them finishing a cigarette.
“What did you do to them?” I asked.
His very tan and well-manicured hand reached out and grabbed mine. He placed a white linen handkerchief in my hand and proceeded to wipe away the blood on my hand. He dabbed it a few times in T’s beer and gently cleaned the blood from my face. The cold liquid instantly revived me. Or was it his touch? A fleeting thought flew through my mind.
“Always worried about others? It’s a fine trait to have if it doesn’t get you in trouble,” he said.
“Are they dead?”
“No, they’re just sleeping. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t believe you. You killed them!”
“No, no, of course not. Here.” The stranger grabbed Nathan’s limp arm and flopped it on the table. “Feel his pulse. It’s still there.”
Pausing for a moment, I did feel a rapid heartbeat pulsing under Nathan’s clammy skin.
“You, on the other hand, you’re dying. You realize that, don’t you?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Giving up was my best option, I thought. “So,” I said decisively.
He smiled at me again. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat.
Quickly I glanced away, hoping to not get distracted again by his beauty. But if this was the last thing I saw on Earth, this gorgeous man, what was wrong with that?
“I like your optimism,” the stranger spoke up.
“Did I say that aloud?”
“No, I can hear your thoughts. As an Angel of Death, I can hear mortals’ thoughts.” His dark blue eyes fixed on me, intensely, almost seductively.
I gasped. The room started to spin.
“You sent for me, Grace,” Death replied. “It’s time we get going. Okay? We’re not safe here.”
I gripped the sides of the table to steady myself and muttered something about not wanting to leave Nathan, that I wasn’t ready, that I did not f
ully understand his request, that I was too young to die, and that I was fine to stay here. I could not think straight. I could not process what this man was saying to me. Was he really who he said he was?
He leaned in closer and whispered to me, “Don’t faint, Grace. Don’t. It’s best if we don’t make a scene here in the bar. However…” His hand delicately rubbed the side of my throat. “I can carry you if it comes to that. Is that fine?”
I nodded without knowing what it meant. I just nodded. If he truly were the Angel of Death, why not go with him?
“Let me make a quick call and we’ll go, okay?”
Again, I simply nodded. I was unable to form any words of objection.
“Ra, it looks like we may have a sighting at a bar called the Golden Skull in California. You know the place? Okay, good deal. I’ve got some errands to run, so call me if you or the others find her. Okay?” He paused for a moment, listening to the other person on the line. Then he continued. “Okay. Got it. Oh, and if you see Gab, tell him I’ve got two guys for containment. I’ll drop them off at the police station. By the way they smell, I’m guessing they’re big time potheads.”
***
As I walked behind Death along the sidewalk toward his compact sports car parked in front of the bar, I realized I was extremely weak. My legs wobbled.
His quiet confidence was a breath of fresh air compared to Nathan’s barking orders as he griped my elbows. “We’re almost there. Hold on.”
I felt like I was walking my last mile with a glorious champion. Then a strange thought surfaced in my head. What is your name? I’m about to die and I don’t know your name, my knight. If he could read my thoughts, surely he’d hear that. How many people had called the Angel of Death a knight, a knight in shining armor or a shiny car as it seemed. Glancing at the dashboard of the vehicle as I settled in the comfortable passenger seat, I noticed his car of choice was German made.
I leaned my head against the cool leather headrest, folding my arms around me and studied him. Knowing I was beyond hope, I wanted to look at him. I felt peace doing just that. This handsome man was a vision, an angel of death taking me away in a chariot, a German made chariot I corrected myself, but a means of escape no less. I felt like cherubs from the heavens should be trumpeting in the background, ushering me off into an external bliss with this man. I felt safe with this stranger for absolutely no reason whatsoever. It was deliciously insane, and despite my predicament, it gave me hope.