by J. C. Allen
Roost shrugged, and his nonchalance frustrated me even more.
“Didn’t think nothin’ of the first email, to be honest,” he explained. “Figured the first one coulda just been old shit, someone tryin’ to punk us or somethin’. Then the second email showed up, and yah, I took it a bit more seriously then. But them batch o’ photos ain’t nothin’ but the worst in this pile. What was we supposed to tell ya at that point? Probably shoulda said somethin’ for sure, but ain’t nothin’ we can do ‘bout that now.”
While that made some logical sense, I didn’t bother to hide my frustration, and thankfully for Roost, he picked up on it by his own reaction to my facial expression.
“And you said this started almost a week ago?” Eve asked, either doing a better job of keeping her cool or just not being concerned in the first place. “So when did each email come in?”
“First one was ‘bout six days ago,” Roost said after a moment’s thought. “Then the next came… hmm, I guess two days after that. Then the last one came…”
“Two day increments,” I said, nodding towards Eve. “There’s your pattern.”
“So, if the last set of pictures was sent yesterday,” Eve began, “do you think it’s fair to assume that another email will be sent tomorrow?”
“Damn,” Roost said. “How the hell didn’t I see that? Guess I shoulda brought yer ass in here earlier.”
“So that probably means that, if there’s going to be more pictures of more bodies, they’ll likely be committing the murders today, right?” Eve stipulated.
She’s right.
And I don’t think they’re going to stick to their own too long. They’re not gonna cannibalize themselves for the sake of a message.
I glanced over at Roost, eager to see how he’d respond to that. He nodded slowly, contemplative, and rubbed at his chin. He looked like he was suspecting the same thing I was—that the message was more or less done being sent and that soon, something would trail that message and hit us.
“I suppose I can send some boys out to see if they can catch wind of any funny business over the next twenty-four hours. Y’know, assuming that the pattern continues. If it was just supposed to be the three messages, then we could be chasing a dead fish. But I ain’t think it’s gonna just be that.”
“Even if there is something going on,” I grumbled. “We could be chasing a wild goose.”
“Huh?” Roost raised an eyebrow at me.
“You know, wild goose chase!’ C’mon, Roost, don’t make me feel stupid!”
“Ya feel however ya wanna feel,” Roost said with a chuckle. “I got work to do.”
Well, so much for that. Anyways.
“Assuming the timestamps on the pictures are accurate,” I said. “It’s fair to say that they’re sent to you shortly after being taken. Would you say that’s accurate?”
“More or less, I suppose. Can’t say for damn sure, but on the whole, seems fair. Why?”
I took a moment to study the map, realizing the marked zones were roughly ten-to-fifteen miles apart. The Falcons didn’t have the manpower to do an entire area.
“Means if I head out tomorrow and scope out this general area, then I might catch our amateur photographer in the act.”
“I, as in yer ass?” Roost said. “Haven’t ya learned a damn thing from these last coupla months? I got boys who can—”
“OK, so send some boys out with me,” I challenged. “But I need to get this resolved as much as anyone. I know the Falcons better than anyone except you. So yeah, I’m going out there. We’ll split up and cover grounds. I can do… maybe a couple of shops here, maybe the subway stations here…”
I noticed when I pointed to that that Roost visibly tensed. But it happened so quickly and he relaxed so fast that I ignored it, thinking that maybe Roost just didn’t like the idea of me going underground. I didn’t see how it could be any more dangerous than being above ground with shooters in windows, though.
“I think I can get that and then the boys can hit the other areas. How’s that sound?”
Roost didn’t have much of a reaction, which was usually how he acted when he knew he couldn’t control me.
Eve, however, did not bother to hide her frowning.
“I don’t think I like you going into this on your own,” she said.
I don’t either. But, I don’t like much about this.
“It’s the best bet we’ve got right now,” I said, turning towards Eve and moving my hands to her shoulder. “And, even then, it’s probably a crap shoot. As much as six of us might be covering quite a bit of space, we’re just six people. Probably not worth putting more out there for simple reconnaissance.”
“Derek is right, Eve,” Roost said, giving her a reassuring nod. “Fer once, he’s thinkin’ in the right direction.”
“For once?” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean, Roost?”
“Means ya’ve had yer head up yer ass until now.”
“Fuck you,” I said, though I couldn’t help but smile all the same.
“What’s there to smile about?” Eve frowned, glancing back down at the photos. “This… whoever did this…”
I frowned at that, hating that I was putting Eve through this. She’d already been thrown into an awful situation because of her brother, and now I was doing the same, in my own way. Albeit a much less evil way. But still.
I didn’t want her to have to be involved any more than she had to. Right now, that meant keeping her in the line of sight of me or any other Savior at all times, and away from the death, bloodshed, and violence that had happened and was to come.
I moved to the table and quickly shuffled the papers back into a pile and handed them to Roost, making sure to put a sheet of text above all the photos for Eve’s sake.
“I’ll get this figured out,” I said. “In the meantime, let’s continue as we have been.”
“As we have been?” Eve challenged. “With me staying behind worrying about all of our safety?”
I frowned at that. I could see Eve was not going to give this one up so easily, as she shouldn’t—but it did mean some uncomfortable moments and conversations were coming in the days ahead as we sought to hopefully clean up the Falcons forever.
Roost cleared his throat. We both turned to face him.
“Not to talk outta turn,” he said. “But she’s got a point, Derek. It ain’t gonna do us or her much good to just be the captive princess, helpless and beggin’ for her prince to come back.”
“King and queen, you mean.”
“The fuck?”
I shook my head, realizing I’d let my mental thoughts interrupt an actual important conversation.
“Anywho, maybe, while yer out patrollin’ on yer wild goose chase, we can start teachin’ Eve how to protect ‘erself.”
Say what.
“Protect herself?”
Roost nodded, looking like he was becoming more confident in his suggestion by the moment.
“Yeah. Y’know, li’l target practice, couple of trusty self-defense moves… stuff like that. It’ll give ‘er somethin’ to do while yer out playin’ biker boy, an’—who knows?—it might even come in handy, right? Can’t hurt to teach the lady how to shoot and kill a Falcon.”
I started a slow nod, not quite convinced of the sanity of the idea. If the whole purpose of this was to get Eve away from violence, than to teach her how to use it…
But, as my father always said, it was better to know how to be violent and not have to use it than not know how to be and need it. And, sadly, she was probably going to have to need it at some point.
“Yeah… I think that’s a good idea. Can’t hurt, anyways. Thanks, Roost.”
“It’s what I’m here for. An,’ who knows, maybe we’ll finally get our shot at Falcon, eh?”
Falcon…
Frank fucking Young
The man who started the Black Falcons.
The man who killed my father and brother.
The man responsible for Rock, who’d killed my wife—destroying my family—enslaved Eve, and gotten Chuck out of prison in an effort to get Eve back on the streets.
Falcon…
The man behind just about every problem I’d ever had.
It couldn’t get more personal.
“Where are you right now, Derek?” Eve asked as she placed her hands on my shoulders. “Come back to us.”
“Oh shit, sorry,” I said, offering her a smile that I hoped wouldn’t look too forced. “Just… lost in thoughts.”
She offered a smile back, but I could tell I hadn’t fooled her. Her smile was just as forced, just as phony, as mine. She had spent too much time with me for me to ever bullshit her.
“Sorry,” I said. “He, Falcon, he just… it’s not easy to think about him without getting upset.”
“I understand,” Eve smiled understandingly and leaned forward, kissing my forehead. “Just don’t get lost in those thoughts. I know all-too-well how easy it can be to get lost in your own head.”
“Get outta that head of yers, Derek,” Roost said, his face growing stern. “Ya won’t be able to stop anybody if ya get lost up there. And I ain’t gonna kiss you like her to bring ya back.”
“I know,” I said, hating how my emotions just always seemed one step ahead of me. “I get it. I won’t let my feelings get in the way. I can’t. Not with him.”
“Good,” Roost said at me. “Now why don’t you and your pretty lady get on outta here? Go for a late lunch or something.’”
“What? Kicking me out of my own office?” I said, blinking.
“I got it handled fer the afternoon,” Roost said, plopping down in my office chair. “Ya got some work tonight, so why don’t you two take it easy fer the day?”
Three weeks was all we got.
God fucking damn.
Well, I guess if I’m gonna call myself the president of the Savage Saviors, I better act like one. Not like I forgot how to do the job in three weeks.
“Alright, thanks, Roost,” I said, turning away and leading Eve to the door.
She took my hand, and though I felt terrified of what the future held for her—most especially since people who learned violence tended to attract it—at least she would be a little better prepared for the future. A little—
“Derek?” Roost said, his voice growing low.
I turned, but I almost wish I hadn’t. The look I got gave me chills.
I frowned, wondering just what Roost planned to say to me. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“Ya need to promise me ya won’t do this all on yer own, Derek,” Roost said, his face cold and calculated. “I got skin in this game, too, don’t forget. Don’t go off early or stay out any later than mission protocol requires, ya hear?”
I stared back, knowing how true that was. Roost had been there for my father and brother as well. I knew how close he was with him and knew that Roost would feel the same about getting to Falcon as well.
And he knew that if I went rogue, not only did that deprive him of that chance, it depressed my own chances.
“Alright,” I said, sighing. “I won’t do this alone. I promise.”
“Good,” Roost said, grinning widely. “Now ya kids get the hell outta here.”
2
Eve
Although Matty had left us with specific instructions to go on a date for a late lunch or an early evening, it was obvious to me quite quickly that Derek was in no mood for such a thing.
Whether it was the mention of the name “The Falcon,” or the sight of the gruesome photos, or something else that had triggered him, he just wasn’t going to be able to enjoy an afternoon brunch, a trip to Samsville, or anything of that nature. Plus, we’d benefit by being indoors, far away from the dangers of the streets. Better to be over a dozen floors up in the sky, far away from the madness, than to be a dozen feet and on the same plane.
“Hey babe,” I said, squeezing his hand just before he hopped on the bike. “Why don’t we just take a day date inside? Like a staycation, but instead of that, we could call it a staydate?”
“A staydate,” he said, chuckling at the word. At least he’s still got the humor right now. “You sure? I don’t want you to feel trapped in there.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, and then, realizing how passive that sounded, I ratcheted up the words. “I’ll be more than fine, actually. I’ll be with you. Whether I’m with you in Samsville, the museum, or at a shop, the common denominator is you. So yeah, let’s go home. We can Netflix and chill.”
“Actual Netflix and chill? Orrrr the special, deluxe version?”
I smirked and raised an eyebrow.
“Why not both?”
Derek just blushed, laughed, and kissed me.
“I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“And I knew I liked you for many reasons,” I said as I hopped on the bike, hugged him close to me, and felt the engine kick to life.
Despite the flirting and suggestive nature of my words, however, I was actually dead exhausted by the time we got home. I think Derek picked up on the same thing—yes, we could have had sex, and once we got into it, it probably would have felt amazingly pleasurable and I would have craved more… but just taking that first step, compared to falling in bed and passing out, seemed more insurmountable than surviving a fall from his window.
We made it to the bed, but the first thing I grabbed wasn’t Derek’s face or groin but my pillow.
My… pillow.
Funny how that sounds.
Funny…
Before I could even finish the thought, I was already drifting off into the dream world.
“He just came, don’t you think he’s a little tired?”
My fake sultry voice disarmed the guard who had just entered our private room momentarily. He looked at me, with my top off, and smiled at me as his pants expanded. Little did he know I had not pulled these out for his amusement.
And then his words seemed to do anything but align with his evil smile.
“You’d do well to shut your mouth, whore, before—”
But he never got to finish his words, because Derek punched him right in the back of the skull.
That was a mistake.
The man rose, looking at him with a smug look of amusement, as if he had done nothing more than tapped his shoulder.
“I knew you were a Savior,” he growled. “Boss is gonna make me a rich man for bringing him a Savior.”
Then, with what could only be described as light-speed movement, he punched Derek right in the ribs with a force like that of a bulldozer. I’m pretty sure that his heart stopped for a few seconds. I’m definitely sure he broke a few ribs.
“Ugh, shit,” he said.
“You were obvious the second you walked in here, you fool,” the guard said, kicking him in the chin, dropping him to the ground. “And now you’re going to regret it more than you ever regretted joining that pussy club over there.”
I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t fucking take it!
“STOP!”
My cry didn’t fully stop the man. But it did distract him just long enough for Derek to reach into his belt, pull out his gun, and fire.
The bullet went straight through the man’s skull.
But he did not die.
Instead, he began laughing cruelly, a laugh that sounded… no…
It sounded like Chuck’s.
He turned, looked at Derek, and killed him with a single stomp of his foot.
“DEREK!” I screamed in pain.
But then the zombie man turned to me slowly, his height seeming to grow by the moment.
“You thought you could kill me?” he said, his voice a warped version of Chuck’s. “You thought you’d be rid of me, whore? You pathetic excuse for a life.”
The man moved toward me. He took off his sunglasses, revealing eyes like Chuck’s. I was… I was trapped
…
“DEREK!” I screamed once more.
“There’s no getting out of here alive, Eve,” the man said. “You a whore or not? Huh? You a whore or not? You a whore or not?”
“DEREK!”
“Eve!”
“DEREK!”
“Eve? Eve!”
I opened my eyes, seeing Derek’s concerned face looking down at me. The way he was looking at me, the worry and panic in his eyes, made me wonder just how bad I had reacted to the dream.
If it was even half as bad as I felt in the dream…
It may have been a dream, but… it still feels so real… like he shouldn’t be here… like this is the dream… oh God…
Embarrassed, I wanted to shrink back and hide my shame from him, but I was too flustered to do much more than just lie there, pant, and shake. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible to wake up feeling so exhausted, but the proof was in the moment—I’d obviously been thrashing and screaming enough in my sleep to make me physically tired only moments upon awakening.
Too tired, even, to try to hide my shame from Derek.
And so I just began to cry.
Still uncertain of just what he was comforting me from, Derek pulled me close to him. The contact and his warmth helped to calm my thundering heart, and as I worked to get control of my labored breaths I wrapped my own arms around him. I didn’t want to remember the dream—didn’t even want to think about it—but the scene of Derek dying cycled back around, again and again, inside my mind.
The recurring dream had struck again and this time it found a way to snake its way out of my head. I didn’t know what was worse. Replaying the dream over and over in my mind, or fearing that somehow it represented a prophecy of sorts, an omen of what was to come.
“Babe, what is it?” Derek finally whispered as he gently worked to face me, asking the question I both knew he’d ask and dreaded having to answer. “You OK? Eve?”
I could see how worried Derek was and bit my lip, not sure what to say. I didn’t want to let him know how Chuck’s death had affected me, even considering all of the cruel, evil things he had done to me. I couldn’t add one more thing for him to worry about.