Grim Judgment

by Jennifer Reinfried

  As they shot down the sidewalk, still gripping each other’s hands, faces turned toward them. Passersby stopped and stared at the woman in a fluttering button down shirt sans pants, bare thighs pumping, fleeing with a shirtless and barefoot man.

  “Get back!” Isaac shouted at confused onlookers as he sped past. “Get out of here!” He saw a few turn and hurry away as they shot glances over their shoulders, but most simply stood where they were, curious faces pointed from whence the pair had come.

  “Where do we go?” Emma shouted, out of breath already. They were a block and a half away, but the sounds emanating from Jaxon’s attack hadn’t faded. Isaac was too scared to look back.

  “Just keep running,” he shouted. Sharpness pierced his feet as they ran, debris on the sidewalk imbedding into the flesh of his soles. Emma clutched his hand painfully hard, but he refused to let her go. He moved frenetic eyes over their quickly changing surroundings, ignoring anyone they passed. Now three blocks away, his chest burned. An intersection lay before them, the do not walk signal flashing bright red. Instead of crossing, he led Emma into a sharp ninety degree turn to the right and they sped down the sidewalk in a new direction. “We need to find a place to hide,” he gasped. “Anywhere, away from people.”

  They saw the small opening between two buildings at the same time, Emma pointing at it and Isaac praying in his mind it would at least be enough to shield them from Jaxon’s view long enough for them to recover. Their feet carried them into the narrow alley, and they finally stopped.

  Isaac hunched over, hands on his knees, and drew as much air into his lungs as possible. He glanced at Emma, who was leaning against one of the brick walls that surrounded them, one hand on her chest as she heaved, wet eyes pointed upward. She shivered in the cold.

  “We need to keep going,” Isaac said moments later, voice hoarse and halting as he continued to struggle for breath. His lungs felt like they were shriveling up inside of him, burnt and dying.

  “Where?” she gasped. “How can we get away from that?”

  He straightened. The noise of gusting winds still sounded in the air, but the sky was a bright where they stood, an unobscured blue. Isaac moved in front of Emma, then gently pulled her away from the building and into a tight hug. Her chest still moved quickly underneath his shirt, and he could feel her nails digging into his back.

  “Isaac,” she sobbed.

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I was wrong, I never thought—”

  “I don’t care. I can’t lose you.”

  He pulled back and took her face in his hands, her beautiful, soft, tear-streaked face, and kissed her hard on the mouth. “You won’t,” he said when he pulled away. “Let’s go.” They turned to continue down the alleyway.

  It was a dead end.

  “Shit,” Isaac muttered. Still breathing quickly through his nose, he looked back the way they came. His legs burned, his feet stung, and the back of his throat felt like a desert, but they couldn’t stop now. “Come on,” he said, and led her to the mouth of the alley.

  A sudden shriek filled their ears, and they ground to a halt, bodies tense. Isaac frowned; it hadn’t sounded like Jaxon. Before he could decide what to do next, a wave of people flowed past the mouth of the alleyway, running from the way Isaac and Emma had come. He pushed Emma behind him as they slowly backed away from the street, further into the narrow, blocked passageway. Turning, Isaac glanced about their surroundings, frantic to find something to hide themselves in.

  His wide-eyed gaze fell on a green dumpster near the back of the alley. “Emma, go!” He pointed with one hand while he pushed her toward the large container with the other, close behind as she began to run. They were only a few yards away from it when the ground shook and buckled beneath their feet, and both stumbled to their hands and knees.

  “Oh, God,” Emma cried out as the buildings that surrounded them shuddered, dust and light debris showering the two of them.

  “Go!” Isaac scrambled to his feet, only to be brought to his knees once more as another shockwave shook the ground. This time, the wall to their right exploded two stories above them. Large chunks of brick, concrete, and glass careened toward them.

  Looking up, he knew he had mere seconds left of his life. That they were both going to die. He flung his body over Emma. The last thing he conjured in his mind was a thought of them together, on the porch of some small cottage in the woods, and then the building collapsed into the alley.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THEN

  2003

  I stood on the corner of an intersection I couldn’t remember the name of, regardless of the street sign that was right behind me. My mind wouldn’t focus, and I could barely breathe. Terrified I was about to do something so stupid it would cost me my life, I wrung my hands.

  It all had happened so fast.

  I did exactly what I had told Duncan I’d do, and that was to get Jaxon and Shawn as far away as possible from Lab 14 as I could. In the end, I decided to settle with them in Redborough, Oregon. I didn’t want to take them out of the country because if for some reason I ended up needing Duncan’s help, I wasn’t too far away. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just picked up and left that very next morning, telling the boys I had adopted them from the nice people at the orphanage where they were staying. Dazed, they had come with me without much fuss.

  On we ran, through the night, until I was too exhausted to continue and I checked us into a motel. The boys shared one bed, huddled together, quiet and contemplative, but neither showed signs of fear. I remember laying awake in the pale glow of the motel’s neon sign that shone through the window shades, simply watching them sleep, riding the thrill that I’d finally done something to help them, finally gotten them out of a childhood no one should ever endure. Pretty sure I fell asleep smiling.

  The next morning we were up early and on the road again.

  This is probably a good spot to mention that no, I didn’t use our real names at that motel, or ever again. In fact, this entire account has no mention of our true identities, just in case. Call me paranoid, but I have so many reasons to be nothing but. Plus, Duncan’s wipes went far enough back that the two fell into their new identities easily. So Jaxon’s real name isn’t Jaxon, mine isn’t Bruce, and our last name isn’t Rettig. Shawn Thorton is a fake one as well. I may be a selfish lying asshole, but I’m not stupid.

  Anyway, I got the boys to Redborough and we stayed in a cheap hotel until I was able to find time to suck an elderly woman dry of her funds. I hadn’t stolen in a long while, but at the time, my thought process was I needed the money to raise my sons more than a dying lady in a nursing home did. Yes I regret it, but I can’t change the past. Long story short, I bought a large house, did some more ATM robberies (which was getting more difficult to do with the times), and a few other identity thefts. Soon, Shawn and Jaxon were enrolled in a private school. I feared for a long time that we’d be discovered by the government, but no one came for us, and we settled into a lazy, extremely happy life together.

  Jaxon never showed any signs of his ability, even when he got upset, which relieved me to no end. Shawn, however, was another matter. That boy was strong. Within days of moving into our new home, he chased Jax through the upper level, having already memorized its layout, and slammed a door so hard, it splintered in half and broke off its hinges. Days later, he snuck up on his adoptive brother and picked him up single handedly, tossing him into a pile of leaves in our backyard. I had been horrified to watch it, helpless from inside the house, scared that Shawn, with his nearly sightless eyes, would hurt my son. Jaxon had thought it was hilarious, had begged for another go, but I knew that type of fun had to cease immediately. I waited until Shawn was getting ready for bed that same night. I remember tucking him in, ruffling his scruffy brown hair, then sitting on the edge of his mattress.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said. “I know you’re really strong. Stronger than all the other boys and girls in town.”


  He grinned, his thirteen-year-old eyes distant but shining with pride.

  “But I need you to be more careful.”

  “How come?” Just the little bit of light that faded from his gaze nearly tore my heart open.

  “Because,” I continued with a smile. “You don’t want to hurt anybody, do you?”

  “Well, no. Unless they hurt me. Or Jax. Or you!” He sat up suddenly. “Then I’d hurt them back!”

  “Shawn, listen to me.” I scooted closer to him, an idea in my mind. “You know how you love when Jaxon reads comic books to you?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, you’re special. You’re like one of the superheroes in your comics. You are really strong and can use that for good, but other people might get scared, or even hurt. Isn’t that why the heroes always have a secret identity?”

  Shawn thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Can you do that for me? Can you keep your powers hidden and be a hero in secret?”

  “Like when?”

  I smiled and adopted a powerful baritone, narrating one of his favorite stories. “Not today, not tomorrow, but someday, the city will need you.”

  He giggled. “No, do the other one! The one with the giant killer octopus!”

  “Promise first, buddy. Be nothing but gentle, nothing but kind to everyone around you. If someone picks on you or your brother, come to me. Do not hurt them.”

  “I promise.”

  My heart swelled so hard I thought it would pop open inside my chest.

  “But what if someone hurts me?” he asked as he settled back down in his sheets.

  “Shawn, the only time it’s okay to fight back is if it’s self defense, and if there’s no one else around to help you. Do you understand?”

  He nodded. I smiled, kissed his forehead, and began to recite the weird comic book he’d asked me to. Yes, I had it memorized; it was his favorite.

  Wait. Hold on. I just realized earlier I had said I wasn’t stupid, or an idiot. Can I take that back? Recounting that conversation, knowing what I know later on about Shawn being Grim, really, really makes me look like a dullard. How did I not connect the dots? Give me a minute, I have to sit with the knowledge that I inadvertently created Grim.

  —-

  I got off track, I’m sorry.

  So the reason I was standing on that corner, scared for my life, was actually because of a transfer I boldly decided to do while at work one day. I had a job at a bank as a loan officer. It was recent; I’d been there all of eighteen months, bored out of my skull every single day from eight in the morning until four in the afternoon, five days a week. I didn’t need the money, since I could do a transfer and find myself a good chunk of moolah within weeks, but I wanted something normal to do. After the years at the lab, sitting at a desk pushing papers and answering the phone was the only thing other than my sons that brought me back down to good ol’ planet Earth.

  Two weeks ago, I was on hold with another bank, tapping a pen against my thigh when suddenly a well-dressed man with dark hair came stomping through our little farm of cubicles. At the sight of his livid green eyes behind black framed glasses, my stomach flipped. Oh, shit. I know that face...My mind dredged up a memory of the man, Weston Alexander, grinning after my wife as she sauntered down a hallway at Lab 14.

  My upper lip twitched, but I kept my face impassive as I watched Alex stalk up to Gary, the bank manager. The crazy fuck actually grabbed him by the arm, lifted him from his chair, and dragged him into a side room. The moment the door slammed behind them, I hung up my phone and bolted to the bathroom. This I had to see.

  I locked myself in a stall, sat on the toilet with my pants still up, and hopped into Alex. Seconds later I was standing over Gary, who, at five foot eleven inches, was still dwarfed by the intruder. Our face was inches from my manager’s, which was completely horrified, sweat already starting to form at his temples.

  “You want to tell me why we are, yet again, over fifteen thousand dollars short?” we said in a harsh whisper.

  “Alex, I’m sorry, I don’t know,” Gary sniveled. I’d never seen him look like that before.

  “We overlooked it last month. This month, your neck is on the line.”

  “Oh, please, I’m sorry. I’ll find it, I will.”

  “You’ve upset him, you know. He thought he could trust you.”

  “He can! I’ll find it.”

  We smiled so slowly it gave my consciousness goosebumps. “If it isn’t found and replaced within seven days,” we stepped closer to Gary, wrinkling our nose at his slight stench of wet armpit, “I will personally come to your home and cut your stomach open so your family can watch your insides fall all over the floor.”

  Gary nearly fainted.

  We glowered at him a long moment, then suddenly laughed loudly. “Come on, buddy, let’s get a smile on that face.” My manager stared at us as if he’d just witnessed a horrific murder.

  “Come on,” we said. “Smile.” With one hand, we clapped Gary on the back. My manager’s mouth split into the most terrified grin I’d ever seen.

  We backhanded Gary with a loud crack. Man, this guy is fucked up. I wanted out of the body, but I had to see more. We waited for Gary to man up until he was able to face his employees without quivering. With an arm around his shoulders, we led him past our cube farm, a smile still on our face.

  “What’s good around here, huh Gary? I’ll buy this time,” we said as we sauntered past bank employees trying not to be caught watching.

  “N...N...N—”

  “Noodles? For lunch? Nah. What about that Indian restaurant we ate at last month?”

  The charade continued until we entered the elevator and its doors closed, then we removed our arm from Gary. Standing mere inches away, we glowered at him until we reached the main floor.

  We moved out of the elevator and out the building’s front doors without another word. I was terrified, but impressed. Alex hadn’t even broken a sweat. I went along with him as we quickly crossed the street and made our way down a block. We then turned and entered one of two waiting SUVs, dark and sleek in the afternoon sun, and came face to face with notorious crime boss Ivan Vance.

  Dammit, Gary, come on.

  —-

  After only two transfers, I discovered Gary had a gambling problem, which actually shocked me. He just didn’t seem the type. Guess it goes to show I shouldn’t judge people.

  He was so, so in debt. I kind of felt bad for the guy, but on the other hand, I really wanted his job. I mean, think of all the money I could make using my transfers for a ridiculously rich man. I wouldn’t have to even tell him about my power, just use it.

  There I stood on some corner, nerves rattled, eyes searching for that creepy fucker Alex. A quick glance at my watch showed me one minute to eleven, and less than thirty seconds later, he appeared, striding out of a building with a small, smug grin on his face and heading right toward me. I nearly panicked. My mind recalled the gruesome threat he’d made on Gary’s life. My legs and brain screamed with the desire to run, but I held my ground. I knew which SUV he was heading for, and I cut him off at the last moment, right as he reached the tail end of the vehicle.

  “Alex?” I said in a somehow clear voice.

  His head turned, and I swear he looked down his nose at me. Then he smiled. “Something I can help you with?” he asked. The curve of his mouth was friendly, but his cold, green eyes told a different story.

  Crippling relief washed over me. He doesn’t recognize me.

  “Yes, actually.” I felt my insides clench, and nearly dry heaved, but I kept my eyes locked on his death stare. “I have information about your finances that you may be interested in hearing.”

  He scoffed. “Not sure what you’re talking about, sir.” He moved to walk around me, but I sidestepped and blocked his path.

  “I’m sure your boss would like to hear where his money’s been going, Alex.”

  The man didn’t freeze or gasp or show
any sign that he’d even heard me. Instead, he considered me for a long moment, blinking slowly, as if he’d zoned out or something. Then he breathed in deeply, and adjusted his glasses. “Interesting,” he said.

  “I’d be happy to share what I know if—”

  “Let’s talk in here, shall we?” Alex put his hand on my shoulder and spun me toward the SUV.

  I nearly wet myself. I’d fucked it up. He was going to kill me, probably stab me over and over in the vehicle and kick my body out over some river to be found weeks later, all bloated and disgusting. I began to protest as he opened the door and shouldered me inside.

  I slipped along the cool leather seats while realizing the car wasn’t empty. I don’t have to tell you who was in there, do I?

  “What is this, Alex?” a deep Russian voice said.

  I’d seen Vance from a distance years prior, and when I’d been inside of Alex.

  Side note: I really need to come up with a better way of saying that.

  “This gentleman here states he has business to discuss with you.” Alex gently shut the door. Both turned to face me as I tried to make myself as small as possible.

  “Well? Out with it,” Vance said coldly.

  I cleared my throat. “Your financial manager, Gary.” My voice was weak and pathetic.

  “What about him?” Alex asked softly, irritation in his words.

  “First, I need your word that you won’t hurt him.” Bold move, huh? Demanding something from Ivan Vance.

  Alex took a breath to speak, but his boss held up a hand. “You have it. I will not harm Gary unless what you say could harm me or someone in my employ.”

  “Physically, no, it doesn’t.”

  “Then you have it.”

  I took a deep breath. “The reason you’ve been losing money is because Gary has an excessive amount of debt from his gambling problem.”