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Autumn in the City of Lights

Page 23

by Kirby Howell


  “Alright, come on in, Autumn.” He held the door open for me, and I looked back at Sam, suddenly wishing for my little white room. The phrase “out of the frying pan and into the fire” floated through my mind as I entered.

  I clutched my arms across my chest to hide myself and also to stop my shivering. Karl disappeared for a moment, and I turned around, panicked, searching the room for him, but then he reappeared, strolling back into the room from another door. He held a shirt out to me. It was a pale blue men’s collared business shirt.

  “You must be uncomfortable,” he said. I wanted to cover up badly, but I didn’t want to wear one of his shirts to do it.

  “Just take it,” he said.

  I still didn’t make a move to take the shirt from him. He sighed, then moved behind me and threw it over my shoulders. I cringed. He noticed.

  “Grow up, Autumn. It doesn’t mean we’re married. Don’t you see I’m doing you a favor?”

  I finally found my voice. “You killed Shad. I don’t want any favors from you.”

  He slowly nodded. “But you need favors from me. Because I have you in the palm of my hand right now.” He held out his hand, palm up, for me to see. “And you need to take every favor I offer you.” He slowly closed his hand into a fist. “But we’ll talk about that later.” His voice turned suddenly jovial, and he gestured behind me. “Please, eat something.”

  I turned and saw a table laden with food. I was stunned to suddenly see so much wealth in one place after a week of aging cereal. There were vegetables and fruit piled high next to crusty loaves of bread and wedges of cheese. A roasted chicken steamed on a platter, its skin browned and crackly. There were pitchers full of water and even a glass bowl piled high with bite-size chocolate pieces.

  Karl pulled out a chair for me, then began to help himself to a little bit of everything on the table. I was still standing there staring as he sat down with a full plate at one end of the table.

  “As you can see, it’s not poisoned,” he said, biting into a piece of chicken.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want your food. I want to go home.”

  He paused his eating. “You used my hotel to shower and clean up. You borrowed my shirt to cover yourself and keep warm. Why not eat something? You’ll feel better and think clearer. And we can talk.”

  He poured a glass of water and set it next to the place setting at the chair he’d pulled out for me. Then he poured himself a glass.

  “Who knows, maybe we’ll settle this whole thing between the two of us. Cheers!” He clinked his glass with mine, then took several gulps.

  I stood there and watched him eat. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to accept anything from him, but I was starving. And he was right about one thing. Eating would make me stronger and keep my head clear. And I was in desperate need of strength and clarity right now.

  I sat down, wrapping his shirt tighter around me, hating the feeling he was in control. I felt the tiny screw tucked under my tongue and wondered if and how I’d get a chance to use it. If it would be beneficial in any way. The ratio of how much trouble I’d cause versus how much trouble it would cause me was unknown. I decided I didn’t need to make things harder for myself right now, and it might be safer to break out of my little white room when they stuck me back in there.

  I helped myself to some food with my fingers because there were no utensils. No sharp objects for me. I ate slowly around the screw tucked in my cheek, not wanting to swallow my only escape plan. Karl cleared his plate and wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, then sat back and heaved a deep sigh. He watched while I slowly chewed.

  “I thought we weren’t feeding you down there. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Yes, you are successfully starving me,” I said, glowering at him. “But I’ll get sick if I eat too much too fast.”

  “I never give you enough credit,” he said. “I always assume you’re all action and no thought... based on my past experiences with you, that is.”

  I bristled, then tried to breathe normally. He was trying to make me mad. I had to stay calm.

  “Now let’s talk,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind my being frank with you.”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Okay,” he said, his voice laced with barely concealed irritation. “I’m going to talk and assume some of it is getting through that thick skull of yours.”

  I clenched my teeth. I wanted more than anything to pick up my plate and bash him across the face with it.

  “I’m dying, Autumn,” he said, no emotion in his voice. “What do you think of that?”

  That got my attention. “You’re dying,” I repeated.

  He nodded. “I’m dying, and I need your help.”

  I waited for it. There was a catch. He couldn’t really be dying. We weren’t that lucky.

  “Don’t you have anyone else to ask for help?”

  He shook his head. “It’s you and Grey. You’re the only ones who can help me.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “Aside from the obvious.”

  He chuckled. “The same thing wrong with everyone on this hopeless planet.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, and I didn’t want to ask, so I waited.

  “Mortality,” he said slowly and clearly, as if speaking to a partially deaf person. “You’re all dying. But I wasn’t until recently. And I’d like to amend that.”

  “You’re out of E-Vitamin,” I said.

  “Bingo. That didn’t take you as long as I thought it might.” A sarcastic smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

  “Why didn’t you go back to The University when they made their stop a few months ago? You could have gotten more.”

  “The University... ” he paused, plucking a grape from a nearby bunch and rolling it between his fingers. “The University isn’t an option for me.”

  A light clicked on in my memory. Since the incident with Karl on the hilltop above Hoover, Grey and I had speculated what he’d meant by his comment that Grey had “missed his headline.” We’d assumed Karl was involved in some major incident at The University and left.

  “They kicked you out, didn’t they?” I said, wanting to laugh. How obvious it suddenly was. “So what did you do?”

  He waved away my question. “I’ll tell you the whole story another time, over drinks.” His eyes twinkled with malice, and he leaned toward me. “Where does Grey keep his E-Vitamin?”

  I stared at him a moment before answering. “You think I’m just going to tell you? That’s pretty dumb of you.”

  “Oh no, of course I wouldn’t expect you to just tell me. That would be pretty dumb.” He leaned closer, as if he were about to confide a secret to me. “So here’s my plan. First, I’m going to try to convince you verbally. Then physically. Then emotionally, mentally, grammatically.” He smiled at his joke, then continued casually. “You get the picture. And if none of that works, then I’ll move on to plan B, but I’m going to keep that a surprise for now.”

  He reached a finger toward me and grazed my cheek. I froze. He trailed his fingertip down my throat to the collar of the shirt he’d given me. Nauseated, I leaned away.

  Karl didn’t seem offended at my lack of interest. His touch lingered on the collar, fingering the fabric. “There’s also a plan C,” he murmured. “Just to let you know.”

  All of the muscles in my body tightened, and I went cold. I felt sick at the thought of what plan C might entail. I had to get out of here.

  “Fine, but can we make this quick?” I smirked, looking at him. “I’ve got a busy day.”

  I didn’t see his hand rear back to hit me, but I did see his handsome face twist into an ugly mask. And I felt it. Like he was wearing a metal gauntlet. My teeth rattled, and my eyes felt like they might explode. The force knocked me out of my chair, and I landed roughly on the floor. My knot of wet hair came undone and tumbled across my shoulders.

  He lunged for me, and I immediately knew what he was aiming for. He grabbed
a fistful of my hair, and I instinctively latched my hands around the roots. He hauled me to my feet, and I stepped on the skirt of the nightgown, hearing it rip. My scalp seared with pain, but I managed to glare at him as he yanked me against him.

  “Why do you always have to make everything so difficult?” he growled, clasping my wrists together so I couldn’t hit him back. He was right to restrain me. I was ready to claw his eyes out. But since he had my hands, I became aware of the adrenaline surging through my legs.

  I drew one leg back and kicked his knee as hard as I could manage. I felt a pop, and a surge of pain tore through the center of my bare foot.

  Karl howled and threw me to the floor again. My back to him, I used the opportunity to spit the screw into the palm of my hand. I tucked it between the middle finger and ring finger of my right hand, sharp end out like a sinister ring.

  I made a fist and was ready. He grabbed my left elbow, pulling me up again. I whirled around, fist raised, and aimed for his face. My knuckles collided with his cheek, and he screamed.

  He let go of me, and I ran. I tripped over my fallen chair, regained my balance and made for the door. Hands grabbed me as I flew through the doorframe and dragged me back into the room. Hart.

  “She’s got something in her hand,” I heard Karl say, and Hart grabbed my wrist, forcing my fingers open. The screw fell to the floor, hopelessly small, where it rolled to a stop.

  The fight left me, and I sagged in Hart’s grip. Why had I ruined my one chance to escape? What had made me taunt Karl into losing his temper? Why couldn’t I have kept my cool and then made a move? I’d blown it.

  Karl came to stand in front of me, his cheek bloody.

  “You’ve aptly demonstrated my point about how you like to make things difficult for yourself.” He leaned down. “You could have just answered the question, but you had to go and start a fight instead.”

  “You hit me first,” I managed to say. I felt like I was speaking around a mouth full of broken teeth.

  He laughed, looking at Hart as if this was the funniest thing he’d heard. Hart chuckled also, though I doubt he knew why.

  Karl stared deeply into my eyes. “And I’ll be the last to hit you, as well.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I woke back in my little white room, head throbbing, face burning, and no recollection of how or when I’d been brought back. I lifted my head off the concrete floor and managed to sit up, leaning heavily against the wall, eyes closed against the dizziness and splintering pain.

  I took a deep breath, stretching my sore torso, and explored my face with gentle fingertips. My cheek was badly swollen, and my lip seemed to be split open. Dried blood crusted my chin. But aside from all that and a sore foot from where I’d kicked Karl’s knee, I appeared to be okay.

  I let my hand flop back into my lap, and I rested against the wall, grateful to be alone again. Even though the room was small and starting to smell, it was better than what awaited me outside it – showering in ice-cold water with Sam and her gun as an audience, and playing a terrible game with Karl.

  I thought of the tiny screw I had so foolishly used. I’d played my hand too early and lost; I wanted to cry when I remembered how the little screw had been pried from my fingers. My head thudded against the wall behind me in defeat, and a fresh wave of pain washed through my skull. I couldn’t dwell on it. I would have to think of another way to escape.

  I shivered and pulled the blue shirt tighter around me. I hated thinking it belonged to Karl. That I was depending on him for something. But I couldn’t be proud. I needed to be practical.

  What advantages did I have? I knew where I was. I knew how to get home, and I wasn’t far. I could make it over the hill on foot if I could find a way out of here. Those were two very large advantages.

  My past experience with Sam might have been an advantage, but her recent treatment of me clearly stated the opposite, so I couldn’t count on her.

  What did I have to work with? I searched the room with my eyes. The water jug still had a couple inches of water in the bottom. The Tasty-O’s! box was empty and only contained the plastic bag. My face burned hot when I remembered licking the cereal dust from the creases of the bag.

  The plastic cup was half full, but not with water. I looked away, my stomach twisting with nausea, and my eyes fell on the two dried puddles in opposite corners. I took a deep breath through my mouth and looked at the bare light bulb in the ceiling to calm my heaving stomach. I couldn’t risk throwing up the only decent nutrition I’d had in a week.

  I sank down against the door, my hands balled into fists. The ring Grey had given me felt cold and hard on my finger. It was the only thing I had left from the time before this misery. Everything else had been stripped away. I was lucky Sam hadn’t noticed the ring. I might have lost it, too.

  My sore face crumpled, my swollen cheek stiff against the movement. I felt my lip split open again, and fresh blood moistened the corner of my mouth. A sob echoed perfectly off the walls of the small room.

  What felt like a long time passed. I slept on and off. The blood on my lip dried again.

  I grew hungry, and I sipped the water in the jug until it was gone. I slept again. I woke with hunger pains that crept up my throat like hands. Then the feeling disappeared, and I was left with a dull nothing inside my head. The plastic cup remained half full. I didn’t have a need for it now.

  A jingle from a local commercial got stuck in my head. The end of the song where the phone number was sung played on an endless loop. Sometimes it echoed off the walls around me as if someone were singing it to me. The light burned above me. The walls hummed around me. The floor buzzed beneath me. My head was as empty and cold as a cave.

  Sam appeared, floating around the room like a blonde balloon, gently bumping off the walls. My eyes followed her movement. She disappeared, and I drifted into blackness.

  “Come on, Autumn!”

  Rissi, I thought? The inflection was perfect. The female voice was impatient and slightly immature. What was Rissi doing here? A wave of panic broke over me, and I opened my eyes.

  It was Sam, her brow crinkled in annoyance. I sat up and backed away from her, looking around my small white room for Rissi.

  “What have you done with her?” I demanded.

  Sam looked around the empty room, an eyebrow raised. “Get a grip, would you?” She sighed and capped the bottle of water she held. I noticed for the first time she was kneeling on the floor next to where I’d just been lying.

  “Were you... helping me?” I asked.

  “Trying to.” She held out the bottle to me.

  I hesitated, then took it and began gulping the glorious water.

  “Go slow or you’ll get sick again. It already stinks in here. I don’t see how you can breathe.” She held the sleeve of her shirt over her mouth and nose and made a face.

  “I didn’t realize I had a choice,” I said, gasping for air after taking several long pulls from the bottle.

  “Of course you do. You could give Karl what he wants, and he’ll let you go.”

  “It’s not that simple, and I doubt he’d let me go if I told him anything.”

  “You never know until you try,” she said, gingerly eying one of the dried puddles a few feet from her shoe. “Anything would be better than staying in here.”

  I took a few more sips of water and watched her. She was sitting on the floor, one shoulder leaning against the wall beside her. She seemed relaxed, as if she were at ease here with me. I wondered if someone had locked the door behind her. I turned to look and was surprised to see it standing open. My lips parted in surprise, and my legs twitched. Could I overpower Sam and get out of here?

  “You can try if you want,” she replied, as if she could hear my thoughts. “There’s only one way out of here, and I brought a guard with me. He’s waiting at the end of the hall.” She shifted. “Actually, it might make things a bit more interesting around here if you tried to escape. It’s been a boring coupl
e of weeks since Karl and Margery got back.”

  “Margery?” I asked, confused.

  “Oops,” Sam said, not sounding apologetic at all.

  “He brought her here?” My head spun.

  “Brought her back here is more like it,” Sam corrected.

  I steadied myself against the floor as the room swayed. I felt like I’d swallowed an ocean’s worth of bottled water.

  “Back here,” I repeated, my mind catching on the one word.

  “Yeah, she’s kind of a pill,” Sam muttered, inspecting one of her polished fingernails. “She reminds me of a boss I had once when I worked at a smoothie place. She likes everything perfect and just so.” She said the last two words in a snobby, high-pitched voice.

  “You mean, she was here before the Summit?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Sam said, as if she were too annoyed by Margery’s reappearance to speak.

  So it was all a set up. I had my suspicions before, but now I knew, the entire Summit had been carefully orchestrated by Karl... and Margery. Of course it had been. It was so obvious now. I let my head sag onto my drawn up knees.

  “So Margery is with Karl,” I mumbled into the silk of the nightgown.

  Sam snorted. “You could say that.”

  Something in her tone made me look up. The look of annoyance on her face had grown to supreme irritation and, if I wasn’t mistaken, it looked like there was a slight edge of sore feelings lingering in her expression.

  “What do you mean?” I prompted.

  “Margery is not only with Karl in the sense that she’s part of his team, his numero uno, but she’s also with him... if you know what I mean.”

  “You mean... ”

  “Who do you think I walked in on with Karl? Back before I came to Hoover.”

  I recalled the conversation with Sam on our way to Las Vegas. She’d told me that after discovering Karl with another woman, she’d decided to leave and come to Hoover. But after I found out her true intentions — she’d come to Hoover on Karl’s orders as a spy and saboteur — I’d assumed the soap opera story about her romance with Karl had been a lie.

 

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