Second String Savior

by Rick Gualtieri

  All right, that was not the question I was expecting.

  “What?”

  Wyatt rubbed his chin and plopped his hat back on his unruly hair. “Well, you’re here. Are you not?”

  “Yes, I like watching the fights. I’m not just some silly groupie here hoping to get picked up. Happy, or are you looking for a showdown at the O.K. Corral?”

  “You’re a feisty one.” His eyes darkened a little as he looked past my shoulder. “Sadly, you must excuse me, Miss Jessie, but a man who fancies himself the biggest toad in this here puddle is about to jump on my lily pad, and you probably don’t wanna stick around for that.”

  All at once, I could feel the back of my neck burning. I looked around and noticed the crowd out in the hall had thinned to almost nothing in the few minutes I’d been talking to Wyatt. Intermission must have ended.

  Come on, Gary, use your magic powers and find me.

  “I have been looking for you, Mr. Dalton.” I’d heard that slimy, sleezy, haughty tone before—over Gary’s headphones. “If you needed a snack, one could have been provided.”

  I turned to see the used car salesman in the flesh. Not only was his hair oily, but I could practically taste his aftershave in the air. Eww. And did he really just call me a snack?

  “Lay off the little missy, Colin,” Wyatt said with a tired sigh. “It’s not her fault she’s more interesting than you. Heck, most everybody is.”

  “I see your humor is as bereft as your wit.”

  Standing in between two posturing vampires didn’t sound like a smart idea to me. I stepped around the grease ball but had barely taken two steps when an insanely powerful hand clamped around my arm. “Not so fast, child. I can’t help but notice you have a most unusual scen—”

  Instinct took over and my elbow shot straight back into his gut, catching him by surprise. I wrenched my arm free, spun, and brought up a knee, once more proving that vampires had nuts. I used the whimpering slime ball as a push-off point and bolted. I should’ve headed back to the arena and the relative safety of the crowd, but all I could think of was escape. I sprinted for an emergency exit, sliding past a surprised couple making out in a dark corner.

  “Get that . . . thing!” echoed behind me just before the door slammed shut.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  No alarm sounded as I stepped out into an alleyway. That sure as hell wasn’t up to code.

  I started toward the street. Come on Gary, Sensei, anyone. I pulled out my phone, and said, “Hey, call pineapple!” Sadly, before anyone could answer, I was grabbed from behind. Two sets of powerful hands latched onto my arms this time.

  “Keep walking and don’t make a scene,” a threatening voice hissed in my ear. I glanced at my abductors—car salesman’s lackeys by the look of it. Instead of steering me back toward the gym, they ushered me away from it. We kept walking, all three of us silent, until I started to notice the change of languages creeping into the local signage.

  Chinatown on a Friday night wasn’t exactly empty. Crowds of partiers and foodies spilling over from the theater district surrounded us. The vamps, however, seemed well aware of this. They directed me away from the drunks and tourists and down another dark alley, probably one from which I’d never return if I didn’t do something. If only I could get a hand free to get these hairpins loose.

  “You got a strange smell about you, girl,” Goon One admonished. He shoved me behind a dumpster, sending a rat scuttling over my feet. Yuck!

  Goon Two stepped in to flank me, cracking his knuckles. A second later and his fingernails elongated into wicked claws.

  I squealed like a little girl and cowered—partly a ruse and partly because I was scared to death. True to form, the big, bad men laughed at me, not realizing my hands had moved into a position to start sliding my enchanted bobby pins out.

  Before I could finish, though, a pair of streaks rounded the alleyway and skidded to a halt. I froze as the livid, horse-faced jerk I had racked came striding towards me with a smug smile. Another hairpin down, one to go.

  “You know, this really is most fortuitous,” the slime ball said, adjusting his cuffs. Wyatt sauntered a few steps behind him, a bemused grin plastered on his face. The slime ball kept his distance, no doubt having learned his lesson, pacing behind his two goons as he continued with his supervillain plot dump. In the distance, I could hear car doors slamming. “There we were, looking for some fighting spirit to fill out our ranks with and you, whatever you are, simply appear. Turns out you have more—”

  “Balls, Colin?” Wyatt offered. Even my two stone-faced captors cracked smiles as their boss-man fumed. Oh great, two more dudes in dark suits stepped into the alley to flank this Colin guy. This was starting to feel like a boss fight in one of my Final Fantasy games.

  Colin pursed his lips. “I was going to say fortitude . . . than even the fighters in the ring. Regardless, I dare say this night has gotten far more interesting than I had hoped for.”

  “Back off,” I spat. The last hairpin, unfortunately, had tangled itself in a knot of my hair.

  Sleazy Colin waved dismissively at me. “I think not. You have fire, child, but fire needs to be tempered with discipline. Quinn, if you would kindly teach this one some manners.”

  Goon Number One leered at me. That provided some hair yanking motivation if ever there was some. Wyatt, however, seemed to lose a bit of his attitude. “Hey, Colin!” he called. “My coven took a hit, too. I found her. I should get the right of refusal.”

  “Normally I would be more than happy to let you use her to replenish your tribe of hinterland misfits,” Colin huffed. “But this one is different, and we both know—”

  “Different or not, I saw her first.”

  Another coil of hair slipped free. Damn it, I forgot that I had extra support tonight. I could still feel another pin behind each ear.

  Colin, meanwhile, tried to stare down Wyatt—a difficult feat considering the younger-looking vampire had at least three inches on him. “Do you honestly think this is some schoolyard in which you can call dibs, boy?”

  “Maybe we should call my sire and ask him. How’d that suit you?”

  Colin paused for a moment. The delicious drama had the added benefit of sucking all the attention away from me, allowing me to finally dislodge the final two pins.

  “The Wanderer has no time for your games, boy. Besides, he has a new pet project to keep him busy. Why do you think he’s been spending so much time in New York? Soon enough, he won’t care what happens to you, and on that happy day I am going to make you rue that insolent tongue of yours.”

  “Why, I’m surprised you ever noticed my tongue . . . what with your lips pressed so firmly against James’s ass.”

  “Enough!” Colin snapped, his eyes turning black as he glared at Wyatt. “BEGONE FROM MY SIGHT!!”

  Wyatt’s eyes glazed over, and he shook his head a few times. For a moment, he gritted his teeth and seemed like he was going to bark back at Colin, but in the end, he lowered his head and mumbled something that sounded like, “Yes, sir.” Then he simply walked away.

  Colin turned and started to follow him, but not before stopping to address his trained monkeys.

  “Bring her along so we can figure out exactly what she is . . . after you’ve softened her up a bit, of course. I’m feeling generous tonight, so please indulge yourselves as you see fit.”

  Goon Two glared at me while the one called Quinn watched his master’s retreat. The other two seemed content to guard the entrance. They must’ve thought I was no threat.

  It was so time to prove them wrong.

  Chapter Nineteen: The Outlaw Jessie Jameson

  I scanned my surroundings—a dumpster, cardboard boxes, broken whiskey bottle, and a few chunks of asphalt. A part of me felt I really needed a superhero one-liner in that moment, but I came up empty. Oh well, maybe next life or death struggle.

  My left hand went for the bottle while my right ripped off the wig and chucked it at Quinn. As far as distra
ctions went, I could’ve done better, but where the wig failed, the crimson brilliance filling the alleyway made up for it.

  I snatched the bottle and went straight for the closest kneecap, Quinn’s. Unlike a drumstick, it cut flesh easily. I followed up my cheap shot with another, sweeping his leg like he was a Cobra Kai reject. One down, although probably not for long. Time to see if I could even the odds a bit before I was dogpiled.

  Tucking my chin against my chest, I launched myself toward Goon Two, who seemed shocked that a meek little girl had teeth, figuratively speaking. The crown of my head connected squarely with his chest. Good thing the top of the human skull is so hard. Goon Two screamed and an acrid smell assaulted my nose just as smoke began to pool around me. The heat rose and I quickly backed up a step.

  “Jesus Chri—” I jerked away, but not before inhaling a mouthful of dust from what had, only moments before, been Goon Two. Holy crap! Unfortunately for me, Quinn recovered while I was busy freaking out. His fist slammed into my shoulder like a truck, causing my entire arm to go numb. Too bad for him I had a spare. I dug my heels in and raised my fist, noticing that even the downy tufts of hair on my knuckles gave off a crimson glow.

  “What the hell are you?” Quinn cried.

  My response came in the form of a jab to his stomach. Scary or not, this guy was no fighter. He telegraphed his next blow from a mile away despite his speed. Even so, it was a close call. Quinn slashed through my sleeve, just barely nicking my arm as I did my best to dodge him.

  I had no choice but to put some distance between us. I backpedaled, throwing a series of kicks his way—nothing that would probably hurt him, but enough to keep him off balance as I shook my left arm trying to get the tingling to stop. Being mindful of my footing, something Sensei had been beating into me all week, I hopped over the pile of ash that had been Goon Two.

  Quinn wasn’t quite as discerning. No doubt taking my strategic retreat as a sign that he was winning this, he stepped forward and slipped in the wet pile of ashes now mingling with the muck on the alley floor. Oh look, that left his chin wide open. Would be a shame if someone clocked him in his stupid face.

  I didn’t have any delusions of putting him down, but apparently the hairs on the back of my hand had other ideas. My fist connected with his jaw, causing it to sizzle where I’d touched him. He howled in pain, so it was only fitting I follow up with another cheap shot to the balls. As he doubled over, I channeled my inner wrestler and drove my forehead into his, knocking Quinn back into the side of the building with more force than I thought I could muster. That burning smell caught my nose again, but this time I was able to jump back in time to avoid a lungful of vampire. Yuck!

  “Quinn!” There came a click and the rush of footsteps from behind me. Reinforcements had arrived, and one of them had brought a gun to a fist fight. I spun and ducked down, putting my back against the wall, almost slipping a bit in Quinn’s messy remains. If they wanted me, they’d have to . . . Oh no!

  In that same moment, I felt the heat leave my head and creep down my arm. No! Come on, healing factor, wait until I’m done here! The glow from my hair started to flicker and fade. One of the goons held back, pistol locked on me, while his friend, the braver of the two, stepped in. Unfortunately, he had the right idea. He threw a series of punches my way, but the luster of the hairs on my arms was fading as fast as what was atop my head. I stood back up and painfully blocked the first few blows, my hands doing little more than throwing up sparks where I touched the vamp’s skin . . . and then my world exploded in pain as he forced his way past my defenses and sunk a fist into my gut.

  I dropped to my knees as another explosion sounded, this one not from a fist. The bullet clipped the section of wall I’d been in front of before getting knocked down, just barely missing both me and the vamp beating the crap outta me.

  “The fuck, Greg?” Goon Three spat, taking a break from kicking my ass to glare over his shoulder.

  “Sorry.”

  I curled up in a fetal position, clutching my aching midsection, and coughing up blood. “Yeah, Greg, do you mind?”

  Greg holstered his gun, apparently taking my snark as an invitation. Both he and Goon Three showed off fanged smiles as they proceeded to kick a girl while she was down.

  “That the best you got?” I wheezed, spitting out more blood. If I was going to die, I might as well go out at least sounding tough.

  A meaty thud followed, except it wasn’t against my body. Instead, Greg plowed into the other jerk who’d been pummeling me. What the. . .?

  “If you have time to quip, you have time to hit,” Sensei McAdams scolded while slamming her heel into Greg’s back.

  Holy Mr. Miyagi moment, Batman.

  I wasn’t sure if it was the hope I felt at seeing the cavalry arrive, or my batteries simply recharging a heck of a lot faster than last time, but all at once I felt heat rising from my head again and the alley around me began to glimmer in red light. No way was I letting Sensei save me without backing her up.

  Or at least, that was the plan.

  “Jessie!”

  Why did I have to look? I glanced over to see Gary scrambling to join us, and in the next moment caught a glancing blow from Goon Three, which left me sprawled out on the alley floor. Ouch.

  Another flash of red caught my eye, but this one hadn’t come from me. “Let’s do this, Bates!” Sensei snapped, her body beginning to glow an angry crimson. A moment later, Gary followed suit.

  “Oh shit, What are Magi doing here?!”

  My jaw dropped as Sensei McAdams’s fists seemingly burst aflame. She nearly knocked Greg’s head off with a tremendous uppercut, causing him to explode into ash. I seized on the opportunity and leapt at the remaining goon, grabbing hold of his ankles to keep him from escaping. Just to add insult to injury, I wrapped my hair around his legs, feeling the satisfying sizzle as the heat burned through his jeans.

  Sensei didn’t waste any time in taking advantage of the distraction, and mere moments later the three of us were quite literally bathed in vampire dust.

  “Don’t fuck with adepts,” Sensei spat before turning to me.

  Good timing, too. Apparently sensing the battle was over, my personal Phoenix Force retreated to my core. My hair fell limp and dark around my shoulders and I collapsed, hoping that my powers were able to mend the worst of my injuries. “I’m . . . glad you found me.”

  Sensei McAdams crouched next to me, taking stock of my injuries. “Is this your idea of staying out of trouble?”

  Gary joined her, looking worse for wear. He started to bend down toward me, but then his eyes suddenly flashed gold and he grabbed hold of Sensei’s shoulder. “We’re not alone!”

  I stifled a scream as more shapes approached us from the entrance of the alleyway. As they drew closer, I recognized them from the gym—the yuppie guy and the second-place runner up from the Wednesday Addams lookalike contest.

  “Never send a man to do a woman’s job,” she purred.

  “You mean never send Colin’s donkey-humping retards,” Yuppie said with a smirk. “What do you think, Lilly? Bring her back to the boss man?”

  “I’ve got this, Todd,” Lilly replied with a dramatic wave of her pale hands. Todd? We were being menaced by a guy named Todd? “Run home like a good boy and I’ll wrap things up here. It’s been too long since I had a chance to play.”

  Todd nodded and began to back away. “Far be it for me to argue with you, babe. Just remember, Wyatt wants her alive.” He turned and vanished in the night, little more than a streak of movement.

  No sooner had he gone, though, than more shapes filled the entryway, shambling toward us as if they weren’t quite right. It was like we’d stumbled onto a freaking undead parade.

  Where the hell are the cops? Sadly, I remembered Phil’s warning that the vamps practically owned Boston. I had a feeling no rescue from the boys in blue was incoming.

  The newcomers shuffled our way and I caught sight of rotted flesh, exposed bone, a
nd wet gristle. I guess that answered my question whether zombies were real—hell of a time to find out, though.

  Come on, hair. Do something! Unfortunately, my do didn’t seem in the mood to cooperate.

  Gary stepped to my side, crouched down, and grabbed my hand. “Please don’t freak out by what I’m about to say,” he begged softly. “But I need you to let me inside you.”

  “What?!”

  “Remember what I told you. I’m a capacitor, Jess.”

  There was no way hearing a guy say that, especially while a horde of ravenous zombies was approaching, was not going to freak me out. I again squeaked, “What?”

  Panic shone on his face as the horde of undead, with Lilly at their vanguard, came ever closer. “N-not like that! I mean let me into your mind. Just take a deep breath and if you feel me knocking . . . just, y’know, open the door.”

  Sensei stepped in front of us, but the former angry glow around her had dimmed considerably. “Stop screwing around, Bates! I need some help here.”

  My mind raced a million miles per minute, debating Gary’s strange and way too intimate request.

  Let me in.

  I took a deep breath. Letting people in wasn’t my specialty. However, there was no way I was going to beat back a mob of monsters with cracked ribs and my spark all but extinguished.

  Let me in.

  But how? It wasn’t like there was an actual door in my head.

  Let. . .

  And that’s when I realized there was another voice in my mind—Gary’s. I closed my eyes and little golden sparks flashed in the darkness, like Gary’s eyes right before his blips went off. I mentally envisioned opening the door within my mind’s eye. Opening it and letting him in. . .

  “I trust you, Gary.”

  “How touching,” Lilly the vampire said, her voice disturbingly close. I envisioned her hurting me, hurting my friends, and all at once a different set of sparks flashed across my closed eyelids. I saw red, literally. My eyes opened to see streaks of crimson returning to my head.