Red and Black

by Nancy O'Toole Meservier

  Nancy O'Toole Meservier

  Red and Black

  Copyright © Nancy O'Toole Meservier, 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

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  Contents

  Dana

  Dawn

  Alex

  Dawn

  Alex

  Dawn

  Alex

  Dawn

  Dawn

  Alex

  First Date

  Alex

  Dawn

  Alex

  Dawn

  Dawn

  Alex

  Dawn

  Last Fight

  Dawn

  Alex

  Dawn

  Alex

  Dawn

  Epilogue

  Hey there!

  1

  Dana

  Dana Peterson considered himself a nine-to-five kind of guy. Show up on time, do his work, and be the first out the door at five o’clock. His coworkers had even teased him about his strict adherence to the punch clock, so taking the 8:00 PM bus home these past six weeks just felt wrong.

  Dana gazed out the window as the buildings shrank from the skyscrapers of the commercial district to the smaller apartment complexes that populated his neighborhood. Close to a third of the structures were abandoned and covered in peeling paint. Not that Dana could see them very well. Weeks ago, his ride home had been lit by daylight. Now, the streetlights illuminated patches of the sidewalk.

  The bus came to a stop with a hiss. Dana pulled himself to his feet.

  “Late night again?”

  He swung his head toward the bus driver. The short, dark-haired man appeared to be in his forties and sported a rounded middle. Dana had heard his name once or twice, but could never remember it. He liked the guy, though. He was friendly, but not overly so. Always asked how things were, but never pried too far into his business.

  “Yeeeah, let’s just say twelve-hour days are becoming the new normal.” Dana made his way to the door. “But at least it pays the bills.”

  “Damn right.” The driver paused and glanced down at the wedding ring on Dana’s hand. “I’m sure your lady appreciates it.”

  “I’ll say. Have a good one.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  Dana waved over his shoulder and stepped out onto the street.

  It was strange that the driver had mentioned his wife, since his extra shifts had a lot to do with Bonnie. For years, she had been the breadwinner, bringing in good money as an accountant while Dana coasted at his IT job, installing printer drivers and doing server updates for his better-paid co-workers. Then, an old sports injury in her shoulder had flared up in the middle of tax season, forcing her to quit. With the majority of their income gone, the couple had downsized to a less-desirable neighborhood. Dana had been taking all the overtime he could while Bonnie recovered, working a part-time job that didn’t require her to sit at a computer all day.

  Throwing his jacket over his shoulder, Dana began to walk the five blocks to his apartment. He kept his pace swift, purposeful. The streets weren’t busy, but they weren’t empty either, with a few cars and a handful of other pedestrians making their ways home.

  He skidded to the side as a young man in a Bailey U sweatshirt bumped into him. Worn down by fatigue, Dana had to clench his jaw to keep from snapping at him.

  “Whoa, sorry man.” The guy looked over his shoulder and grinned. He had a round face and Asian features, his dark hair shaved to a prickly fuzz.

  “It’s fine.” Dana blew a puff of air out of his nose. He remembered being that age, still in college, his biggest concern juggling term papers and Thirsty Thursdays. Back when his parents were still paying for everything but textbooks.

  Dana’s footsteps echoed around the now-empty streets as he made his way to the top of a hill. His building in view, he felt his shoulders relax. Almost home. He could even see the light in their bedroom window.

  Halfway down the hill, he heard a second pair of footsteps coming up from behind him. Dana turned to his right to see a fair-skinned middle-aged man with long, dark, curly hair and a mustache straight out of an eighties action movie. The stranger didn’t speak, but walked next to him, his footsteps mirroring Dana’s own stride almost perfectly.

  Well, that’s not creepy or anything…

  Dana sped up a little, hoping to leave this disturbing bastard behind. In return, the newcomer did the same, adjusting to his pace in just a couple of seconds. Dana felt his heart rate creep upward. Something about this was wrong.

  Ding, dong!

  Dana jerked at the electronic sound. His stalker, still matching his pace, pulled a phone out of his pocket. The guy tapped it, and although Dana only caught a quick glimpse of the picture that filled the screen, it was long enough to make his breath catch in panic.

  It had been a picture of him.

  “What the hell—” Dana began, but was cut off by a punch to the face.

  He stumbled sideways, as much from the shock as from the pain. His body hit the chain link fence that lined the street. The sound of rattling metal filled the air. He raised his hands to shield his face.

  The next blow hit him in the stomach.

  Dana felt the air leave his lungs in one large whoosh. Gasping for breath, he collapsed to the ground. Dizzy from the pain, he almost missed the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “Damn, Sully! You didn’t even need backup!”

  Dana looked up, blinking at the college kid who’d brushed past him earlier. The kid shook his head, his face breaking out in a wide grin.

  “This isn’t some movie.” His attacker’s voice was low and gruff. Had the kid called him Sully? “Hit ’em hard? Most people don’t know how to react. Where’s the van?”

  “Martha sent me a text. Said she was right around the corner.”

  As if on cue, a shiny white van pulled up.

  Oh fuck no.

  Dana had seen enough cop shows to know that letting the bad guys take you to a second location was never a good call. He began to scramble to his feet.

  “Hey, man! Not so fast.”

  Before he could run, the college kid reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a headlock. Dana struggled, fists swinging wildly, his feet skidding on the sidewalk.

  “Help!” he cried out. “Holy shit. Help!”

  This couldn’t be happening. Someone had to hear him. Maybe call the police?

  Before he could cry out again, he was silenced by two swift blows to the face. Dana heard a crack and felt pain, sharp and all-encompassing. He let out a gasp as something wet poured down his face.

  “Stop that!” Sully barked. “Mistress’s orders. She wants him in one piece.”

  “What did you expect? He was resisting!” the college kid replied.

  “Just…get him inside.”

  The van door rolled open in one neat swish. Who knew that such an innocuous sound could make Dana’s stomach drop in dread?

  A pair of hands pushed him from behind. Clutching a likely broken nose, he fell forward and into the van. The floor shifted as Sully and the kid followed him in, then the door s
wung shut behind them. Cursing, Dana spun around to see Sully looming over him. Something tightened around his wrists. He glanced downward. Zip ties secured his hands in front of him.

  “S-seriously, what the actual fuck?” Dana said. “What the hell did I do to you guys?”

  “His feet,” Sully said, tossing another pair of zip ties toward the college kid, who nodded in response and crouched near Dana’s feet.

  When he was close enough, Dana snapped his right foot upward. It was a clumsy kick, but given that it hit the bastard right in the center of his round face, Dana considered it a victory.

  “Ahh!” The kid reached for his own nose. “What the—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry! It looked like you were resisting,” Dana said with a sneer. “What do you—mmph!”

  Dana’s voice cut off as Sully placed a piece of duct tape across his mouth.

  “Didn’t think the computer guy would give you so much trouble, Marty.”

  Dana looked up, getting his first peek at the driver: a slim black woman with a sardonic smile. Like Dana, she looked to be in her early thirties. Unlike Dana, she was dressed to the nines, draped in a black skirt and blazer. Some silky scarf thing hung around her neck. Who the hell dressed like that for a kidnapping? She looked like one of the corporate bigwigs who worked upstairs at Dana’s office. What was she doing here?

  And what were they going to do to him?

  Dana felt the second pair of zip ties tighten around his ankles. Breath hitching, he looked toward the college kid—Marty, the woman driving the van had called him. He could only assume that made the driver Martha. Dana began kicking again.

  “Mmmmph,” he cried out. “Mmmmmmph!”

  “Don’t waste your breath,” Sully replied, voice gruff. “Not like it will make any difference.”

  Like that had never stopped him before. Dana wasn’t exactly known for being reserved, and those were on days that didn’t involve being shoved into creepy-ass vans. Unfortunately, the duct tape complicated things.

  Sully shoved Dana off to the side and took one of the two seats in the back of the van. Marty was already sitting in the other one.

  “Buckle up,” Martha said, reaching down and shifting into drive. The tires screeched as the van raced down the street.

  It that moment, Dana knew he was dead.

  And then he heard a thump on the roof of the van.

  “What was that?” Martha asked.

  Only silence answered.

  “Maybe…” Sully’s voice drifted off as a rumble sounded from above. Dana’s eyes followed the noise. It was almost as if someone were rolling across the roof toward the…

  “Shit,” Sully said.

  The scream of twisted metal filled the van as the sliding door was torn from its hinges.

  Before Dana could comprehend what had happened, a woman swung herself from the top of the van to the inside. She landed in a crouch.

  The woman’s hair was an impossible shade of red. She was dressed in a mixture of red and black, a long cape flowing behind her. A black mask covered the area around her eyes. She looked to the right and the left.

  And then everything happened at once.

  Marty rushed at her like a charging bull. The woman sidestepped his attack, sending the kid crashing into the front seats. Then the vehicle lurched, and he stumbled toward the gaping hole where the door had been. Dana felt his breath catch as Marty’s left foot landed on the edge of the open doorway. His mouth opened into a surprised “O,” his arms windmilling as he tipped backward toward the rushing pavement below.

  The caped figure reached out and grabbed him by one of his swinging arms. She yanked him back inside.

  “Uh, thanks,” he said.

  “You’re welcome!” the woman said, all sunshine and smiles, before smashing the side of Marty’s head against the van wall. He went limp, and she tossed him toward Sully. The two landed in a tangled pile of limbs.

  “Fuck,” Martha said, looking over her shoulder. “Who are…”

  “Keep your eyes on the road, ma’am.” The woman raised a hand. “Or better yet, why don’t we find a place to park.”

  Martha’s voice deepened.

  “No,” she said. “I made a promise to Her.”

  The van swerved again, sending the woman in red stumbling backward in the cramped quarters. Dana had no idea how tall she was, but she had to crouch to keep from hitting her head. Clearly conscious of the open doorway, she angled her fall toward the back of the van, landing right into the arms of Sully, who had deposited Marty onto the floor.

  Sully wrapped an arm around the woman’s neck and squeezed. Dana suspected that breaking free of a grip like that wouldn’t be much of a problem for a woman who had just torn a van door off its hinges. But before she could react, the van swerved again. Everything skidded toward the open door, including the now-unconscious college kid. Fortunately, the woman hadn’t forgotten about him, stomping her right leg onto the floor at just the right time and place to stop him from sliding out the door. The angle at which she had stretched out her foot looked more awkward then heroic, but the results were the same.

  She had saved the kid’s life again.

  “Can you take care of him?” Her eyes were on Dana as she spoke, her voice strained.

  All he could do was nod.

  Hooking her foot around him, she kicked Marty toward Dana. Dana reached for him, but his hands were still bound. Eventually, he managed to wrap them around the collar of Marty’s Bailey U sweatshirt. Would that be enough to prevent him from flying off again?

  Of course, it was probably a good thing he didn’t have the dexterity to strangle the kid right now.

  Then, in a move that looked plenty heroic, the woman cracked her head backward and hit Sully in the forehead. The middle-aged man let out a cry. He released her, stumbling back in pain.

  “Better,” the woman said, rolling her shoulders. “Now, the van.”

  She made her way toward the front, careful not to step on Marty or Dana.

  “You stay away from me!” Martha said.

  The van swerved again, and Martha cursed, her voice now high and shrill. What was going on out there? Rush hour was long over but she wouldn’t be the only one on the road. What if she hit—

  Something shiny caught Dana’s attention. He looked to the back of the van where Sully crouched, his mustached face twisted into a scowl. Sully raised a handgun to eye level and pointed it straight at the woman in red.

  “He’s got a gun!” Dana tried to cry, but the duct tape muffled his warning. That, and any noise he could make, was drowned out by the discharge of the weapon.

  The van swerved at the very moment Sully fired. Dana’s rescuer flinched. Had she been hit?

  “Dammit, Martha!” Sully raised his weapon again.

  Bang!

  The redhead dove to the floor.

  The van swerved again, sending everyone sliding away from the open door, the unconscious college kid pinning Dana against the side of the van. What kind of maniac would shoot a gun in here? It wasn’t like vans were roomy.

  “Sorry!” Dana’s uninjured rescuer said before moving to her feet.

  Sully was busy reloading the gun when the woman in red tackled him across the middle. The weapon skidded out of his hands. It clanged once against the metal floor before bouncing out the open door.

  Sully cursed.

  The girl pulled him up by his collar and slammed him into the back of the van. They both needed to crouch in order to keep from hitting the ceiling.

  “Why are you doing this?” The cheerfulness was completely gone from her voice.

  “The Mistress needs him,” the man said with a snarl.

  “Mistress?”

  The sound of squealing tires filled Dana’s ears. And then came the crash. His stomach lurched, then his body slammed against the back of the driver’s seat. For several moments, his mind went blank.

  It was the face of a woman that brought him back.

  Bright red h
air, strange outfit…it was his rescuer. The black mask obscured a lot, but he could see what looked like delicate Asian features. Her eyes were dark. Her lips were pursed in concern.

  And Dana would eat his hat if she was old enough to drink.

  “Are you okay?” she said, cocking her head to the side.

  “Mmmmph,” was all he could make out. He raised his zip-tied hands.

  “Oh! Let me.”

  She reached down and, for a second, Dana felt tightness around his wrists. He looked down to see that she had broken them as easily as if they were made of paper. He reached up and tore the duct tape from his lips.

  It wasn’t a pleasant experience.

  “Son of a bitch!” was all he could say.

  “How are you feeling?” the woman asked. “I don’t think you hit your head, but by tomorrow you might feel…”

  “Are you kidding me? I feel plenty today.” Dana winced as he moved into a sitting position, his shoulder aching.

  The woman shrugged.

  “Well, even with your nose like that, you look a lot better than the rest of them.”

  His nose? Dana recalled his potentially broken nose. The injury had seemed so secondary during the fight, but now the throbbing pain came back with a vengeance. What had happened to his attackers? He craned his neck toward the driver’s seat. Voluminous white air bags filled his view. If it hadn’t been for those, it was clear that Sully would have gone straight through the windshield. He could also make out the slumped form of Martha, the driver.

  “Don’t worry, they’re alive,” the woman in red said. She reached down to pat the nearby college kid on his shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of this guy, or he would have gone flying forward like his friend.”

  “Strangely enough, they weren’t my first concern.” Dana’s voice did not match the woman’s cheerfulness.

  “Oh, right. Uh…Do you want to try standing?”

  Dana nodded and she helped him to his feet. He was able to walk on his own out of the van, but the movements made him more aware of the world of bruises that he was going to discover when he woke up the following morning.

  Once he was out, he turned to look back at the wreckage. He winced when he saw the entire front of the van wrapped around a metal light post. Or what had been one, at least.