The MisFit Series (Book 2): The Lost Days

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The MisFit Series (Book 2): The Lost Days Page 4

by Plum, AB


  He laughed and jerked his arm back.

  My body weight dragged me forward, but I hung on. Muscles in his forearm shuddered. The lines around his mouth creased into deep folds. He dumped me to the floor and yanked his arm over his head.

  My hand dropped to my side. For the millisecond we stared at each other, I realized he was bigger and stronger. He was not, though, smarter.

  Chapter 26

  Losing Ground

  A swell hit the ferry just as I reached the tiny WC. I pitched forward, but caught myself on the metal washbasin. My hip screamed. I bit my bottom lip and hauled myself inside what amounted to a small closet.

  “Leave the door open,” Baseball Cap called. “It’s just us guys.”

  The bastard’s laugh rang with self-satisfaction. I felt him watching me piss and checked over my shoulder. And there he was. A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. He wiggled his fingers.

  My bladder froze. What did he want? To make me nervous? Make me think he liked boys? My stomach lurched. Dimitri and I had masturbated each other from as far back as I could remember. So what? Neither of us wanted sex with sheep or other males.

  A tap on the outside door claimed Baseball Cap’s attention. He pulled the WC door shut. Calling Olavi’s name, he waited for the reply, then worked the locks on the cabin door.

  Olavi stepped inside. “The other one’s in the car. He’s like a corpse.”

  “Lay off the shots. The little bastard hasn’t paid enough yet.”

  “Fine. You need help with this one?”

  “Everything’s under control—if he ever stops pissing.”

  They both laughed as if he’d told the world’s funniest joke.

  Chapter 27

  Driving to Hell

  “Welcome to Finland.” Baseball Cap rode between Dimitri and me with all the car windows open, breathing in the brisk air at regular intervals. He pointed to several glass buildings in the distance. They sparkled in the blinding sunshine. “Wait until you see the countryside. You’ll never want to leave.”

  I doubted that, but said nothing. My already low opinion of Finns had plunged to the basement. We’d gotten off the ferry within minutes of docking. One glance inside the car would’ve set off alarms in Denmark. In Finland, customs officials were too busy talking about the wonderful weather to notice Dimitri—still comatose.

  “What do you know about your mother’s homeland?” Baseball Cap asked.

  “Nothing.” A hint of pride crept into my tone.

  “Her family is older than the Romanovs by several centuries.”

  “The Romanovs are nobles.”

  “Bullshit.” He leaned over the front seat. “Hear that Olavi? The Romanovs are nobles.”

  “Noble pigs.” Olavi laughed, taking an exit that put us on a crooked road bordered by birch and pine forests. An arrow pointed north to a town I didn’t recognize. Although I was an excellent student in geography, north to me in Finland meant Lapland.

  Kari, who had dozed for the entire trip, said, “Don’t insult pigs, Olavi.”

  The conversation continued in this vein for the next hour. What was the point? To goad me into defending my father’s family? To trick me into calling my mother names?

  The more they talked about her gentility and her great, important dynasty, the more I wanted to puke. They continued to sing her praises. The cadence of their speech and the hum of the tires lulled my racing brain.

  The ache in my hip vibrated. My eyes drooped. My chin hit my chest. I teetered on the cusp of sleep. Their words merged into nonsense until one name jerked me wide awake.

  Sonuva— Every muscle tensed. I stopped breathing. Heard again the name I hated. I exhaled silently. The fog in my brain cleared.

  These three jokers were, just as I’d suspected, thugs hired by Urho Karppinen—the Finnish ambassador to Denmark.

  Chapter 28

  Regaining Consciousness

  Dimitri’s groans muffled my curses and undoubtedly saved me from a head slap.

  “Ahhh, signs of life,” Baseball Cap said in the fake, jovial voice I hated. “Pull over. Don’t want him hurling in the car.”

  Olavi immediately stopped on the side of the road and killed the engine.

  “Dimitri!” Baseball Cap shouted. “C’mon, guy. Time to get out of the car.”

  I clapped my hands over my ears and winced. How the hell did they expect Dimitri to move after using him as a human pin cushion?

  “Get him on his feet, Olavi.”

  “Sick,” Dimitri murmured.

  “Hold on,” I said, unsure where to touch him.

  Olavi opened the door and grabbed Dimitri under his armpits and dragged him from the car. Biting down on my bottom lip, I slid out after him and Baseball Cap came after me. Kari stood at the front of the car, cigarette smoke curling around his head. In the distance, I caught the shimmer of turquoise water and sunshine filtered through dozens of birch trees. My hip buckled as I tried to stand, and I hung on to the car door to maintain my balance.

  Dimitri slumped against the rear of the car, head down, retching.

  “Get him away from the car, you idiot.” Baseball Cap shoved Olavi toward Dimitri.

  Olavi grabbed Dimitri and swung him away from the car. He fell on all fours, his back rising and falling as he heaved. I ran to my friend, careful to avoid the vomit spraying from his nose and mouth. I stood frozen. Helpless. Repulsed.

  The three men kept their distance. They talked about the weather as if the topic mattered. Acid spilled into my own gut. Bastards. What would it take to grab Baseball Cap’s gun and shoot all of them?

  In my mind, I saw a tiny, black hole in the middle of each of their foreheads. Blood dripped down their noses …

  “Here.” Baseball Cap threw me a damp cloth. “Clean up your pal unless you want him riding in the trunk.”

  Chapter 29

  Time Lost

  Dimitri mopped his face and washed out his mouth in silence. With one eye still swelled shut and his face a mass of purple bruises, he looked like Frankenstein’s monster. Baseball Cap had ordered no speaking, so I said nothing. What could I say? That I was glad Dimitri had taken the brunt of their beatings instead of me? If he died, I’d be left alone. At their mercy. Prey to their malice.

  When Dimitri finished scrubbing up, he straightened and removed his shirt. A massive black bruise covered his right bicep. My jaw dropped.

  Jesus, he must’ve fought like a Roman gladiator.

  “I need clean clothes,” he said.

  Our kidnappers brayed. Baseball Cap said, “I need a million dollars.”

  More laughing.

  “I am not a pig. I won’t put this back on.” Dimitri wadded his shirt, dropped it at his feet, and ground it into the dirt.

  Kari jogged to where Baseball Cap stood. “Want me to persuade him, boss?”

  “Later. Give him your undershirt.”

  Kari took a step backward. “My undershirt?”

  “Do it.” Baseball Cap turned away and climbed in the backseat. “And get them both in the car. Let’s go, Olavi.”

  Kari jerked his shirts over his head and threw the undershirt at his feet. He widened his stance and planted his hands on his hips, daring Dimitri to pick up the dingy garment.

  Swaying slightly, Dimitri fisted his hands. I tugged my ear. Our signal to wait. Play things out. Why they weren’t beating him for his insolence, I had no idea. Why didn’t matter at that moment. How to stay alive did.

  “What’s the holdup?” Baseball Cap bellowed.

  Kari jumped. I took a deep breath, scooped up the shirt, and handed it to Dimitri. My hip screamed from bending my knees, and my legs wobbled.

  Jesus, how would I ever escape?

  Chapter 30

  Making a Deal

  Despite a reduction in our speed, fine, gray dust swirled around us and quickly coated the car windows.

  Dimitri turned from staring at the countryside. “What kind of hotel’s on this road?”
/>   “Hotel?” Baseball Cap frowned. “When did I say hotel? I meant hostel. We’re sure to find a hostel along our way.”

  “You’re lying. I’d have seen a sign. We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Dimitri’s voice broke and he started coughing.

  Smiling hugely, Baseball Cap obviously loved the sound of distress. The harder Dimitri coughed, the bigger Baseball Cap smiled. Dimitri and I had committed the ultimate faux pas. We’d been stupid. We’d stoked Baseball Cap’s ego.

  He’d bet against our resilience and won—just as we’d done with so many marks we’d later relieved of their wallets. Just as I’d done with my mother, counting on her determination to protect my brother’s good name at any cost.

  Blinded by maternal love, she had chosen suicide.

  Scarlet-faced, Dimitri was now wheezing, trying to catch his breath. Tears ran down his face. He looked like a little boy who’d dropped his ice cream cone in the dirt.

  I ground my teeth, counted to five, and locked eyes with Baseball Cap. “Let’s make a deal.”

  Baseball Cap threw his head back and roared. When he stopped, he said, “Here’s the deal, asshole. No deal.”

  Chapter 31

  Reaching the Edge of Hell

  We continued on the same winding road for another two hours. My stomach growled most of the way. No one commented. I clenched my fists. Damned if I’d give them the satisfaction of whining.

  No longer hacking, Dimitri sat with his head against the window. He stared at tree after tree after tree—as if seeing a path invisible to the rest of us. All I saw were birches with less than a foot between them. They soared to the sky, their leaves blocking the sun like green umbrellas. In contrast, the sun pounded the roof of the car. The air conditioner whirred softly, keeping the interior cool.

  Dry air did nothing to quench my thirst. I tried to think of a plan, but my head pounded a rhythm I couldn’t blot out.

  DE. Hy. DRA. Ted. DE. Hy. DRA. Ted. DE. Hy … DRA … Ted.

  I accepted my self-diagnosis without question. My skin—dry and itchy—felt as if thousands of fleas were marching under my skin from my toes to my skull. Scratching sent them hustling faster along the highways of muscles and bone.

  Am I going to die of thirst?

  What about all my dreams?

  My plans for a long, successful life?

  My plans to make my father forget my older brother? Name me his rightful heir? Hear him say he was proud of me?

  The questions spun round and round inside my skull. If I was going to die, why not do something with the time left me? Why not make sure my captors remembered my courage?

  Unable to swallow my own spit, I turned to Baseball Cap and croaked, “I’d like water.”

  “Olavi. Stop at the next hotel.” Baseball Cap’s sarcasm punched me in the face. He added, “Our guests require water.”

  Olavi swerved onto a narrow, graveled road and tossed a glance over his shoulder. “Jerk-offs.”

  “What do you want?” Asking was stupid. Never ask a question to which you have no idea of the response.

  Eyes hidden by sunglasses, Baseball Cap grinned. “What have you got to offer?”

  Snap. Caught by my own stupidity. “A hundred kroner.”

  “Not any longer. Who do you think paid for your ferry rides?”

  I slipped a hand under my butt and resisted the urge to pat my pocket. “My father will pay—”

  “How much do you think you’re worth to your father?”

  Dimitri made an unintelligible noise, turned from the window, and added in a clear, distinct voice, “A lot.”

  “And would he pay a lot for you, Dimitri Karpov? Bastard son of a dog?”

  “He wouldn’t pay a cent for my return.”

  “And here I thought your pal had the brilliant mind.”

  For a moment, total silence expanded in the car—silence like the hushed moments a prisoner waits for the click of a firing squad’s triggers. The image popped in my head, then evaporated. Was I hallucinating from dehydration?

  “What … do you want?” My tongue—thick and foreign—filled my parched mouth.

  “Justice.” Baseball Cap leaned into my face, his breath hot.

  “Justice. I understand justice.”

  What I’d delivered to my brother when I pushed him off the train platform.

  What I’d delivered to my mother when I sent her obscenely vulgar pictures of her in bed with my brother.

  Lip curled, Baseball Cap skewered me with a look of pure disgust. “So you won’t need to ask me again what I want.”

  Chapter 32

  Tasting Heaven

  “Wolves roam these woods,” Baseball Cap stated as if we’d been talking about the woods for hours. “They come in from Russia. This is their favorite time of the year. Plenty to eat. No worry about hunters in Finland.”

  He paused as if I gave a fuck about his yammering. All I cared about was something to drink. The sun’s neon-orange rays stabbed my pounding head like steel splinters.

  “Smart guys.” He tapped Kari on the shoulder. “But too dumb to listen to what’s important.”

  The insult came at me from far away. As if from underwater. Whatever fury I’d felt only minutes earlier had dried up with my saliva.

  Water. All I could think about was water. Cool. Sweet. Sliding down my dry throat. Around us, the lakes glittered. Long, sinuous fingers spread out in shades of transparent aqua and dark blue. In a few low-lying places, clear water lapped the edge of the road.

  Shallow. Crystal clear. The most tantalizing water I’d ever seen.

  Swallowing caused my jaws to spasm. How much longer?

  We swerved, and the car swayed. My body tilted toward Baseball Cap. Dizzy, I made no effort to remain upright.

  Baseball Cap sighed. “Oh, all right.”

  He shoved me to sitting. “Stop here, Olavi. Unlock the doors. Let them out. We can’t have them dying of thirst with all this clean, pure Finnish water everywhere.”

  The car locks clicked. A burst of adrenaline propelled me over Dimitri and out the door. I stumbled, regained my balance, and raced to the lake’s edge. I fell on my knees and drank like a dog.

  “Try practicing some self-restraint, Michael. Unless you want your guts to explode.”

  My sluggish brain heard the warning, but I drank until the pressure in my belly pushed against my lungs. Finally, I staggered to my feet. Water dribbled from my soaking hair down my chin and neck, onto my chest and abdomen. I didn’t care. I was going to live.

  Nearby, I heard puking. Dimitri. I stared at Baseball Cap now at my side.

  “Your pal’s having a hard time. Aren’t you going to help him?”

  His tone carried the same teasing quality I’d always heard in my brother’s gotcha questions. I hesitated, but said, “Of course.”

  “Good.” Baseball Cap nodded. “It gets pretty lonely out here by yourself. Some people go crazy—if the wolves don’t eat them first. Oh, and I forgot the gypsies. They love strong, young guys.”

  “Wha-what are you talking about?” Nausea stirred in my bloated stomach.

  “Okay, I’ll spell it out. This is the end of the line for you and Dimitri. You’re on your own. We’re headed back to our hotel.” He enunciated hotel as if it were a foreign, exotic word. “Thanks to the midsummer’s sun, you don’t have to worry about it getting dark. You may actually find a cabin before morning. But, no matter, you’ll have plenty to drink.”

  My mouth dropped, but I immediately clamped it shut. No begging. Don’t say a word.

  Laughing, he spun around, slid back into the Mercedes, and tapped the window behind Olavi. The car lurched forward and soon disappeared in a cloud of dust.

  Chapter 33

  Fighting Panic

  “Dimitri!” I yelled and sprinted after the car. “Get up. They’re leaving.”

  Out of breath, I stopped and bent over my knees. I pressed a fist into my gut. Sweat slid down my face and into my eyes. I blinked at the car tracks
and shaded my eyes against the sun’s glare. The road narrowed to a brown ribbon that vanished into the trees. Dust no longer rose into the cloudless, blue-white sky.

  They’ll come back. They have to come back. They won’t leave us. They won’t.

  Yesterday—no, right up until they let us out of the car—I’d wanted more than anything for them to leave us. Now, in the middle of nowhere … wolves and gypsies he’d said. Scare tactics, but …

  “They’re not coming back.” Dimitri’s hand lay between my shoulders like an anvil.

  “Get away from me.” I reared up, and his hand fell to his side.

  “Why should they come back?”

  I whirled around, my face inches from his puffy nose, his breath rancid from puking. “You don’t know anything. They’ll come back.”

  His nostrils flared, but his uninjured eye showed no fear. “Why?”

  “Because we’ll die if they don’t.”

  “Unless we find that cabin.” He slung his arm over my shoulders. “C’mon, let’s show ’em we’re not dummies. Let’s find the place.”

  His voice rang with the same sing-song encouragement teachers gave slow kids or parents gave crying brats. It smacked of condescension.

  I shook off his arm. “There is no cabin, you idiot. Did they beat you around the head too much? Did their drugs fuck up your brain? Did your brain completely dry up from lack of water?”

  My voice rose to a bellow repeating the last question again and again and again. My chest tightened after this outburst, and my throat swelled shut. Despite the sun, an icy dread shook my whole body. Dimitri stood inches from me, but his face faded in and out of my line of vision.

  He took my arm and led me to where the small waves slapped the edge of the road. He put his hand on the back of my neck, added pressure to lower me to my knees, and dipped his hand in the lake, letting cool water drip through my hair and down my face. He repeated this act until I breathed normally. The panic in my gut subsided. Reason took over.

 

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