Hawk's Revenge

by N. M. Catalano

  Amy came to my apartment and did what she could, even risking her job at the hospital to bring me antibiotics from the dispensary so the wound on my shoulder wouldn’t get infected, besides the one’s to my rectum and vaginal cavity. Fortunately, I didn’t have any broken bones in my face where he’d punched me and slammed my head against the desk. Amy said I’d been lucky.

  Funny, lucky was the furthest thing I’d felt.

  She called to check up on me several times, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone. She came by and had pounded on my door, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t face her. The shame and humiliation was worse than the physical damage. Her visits came further and further apart, until finally she stopped coming. It was better that way. I’ve seen her a couple of times since then, but there’s this huge ugly black cloud between us, even though she’s always nice and polite enough to never bring that horrible incident up. For that, I’m grateful.

  I miss them. I miss us. I miss that time when all we had to worry about was not getting caught smoking a joint behind the school, when life was simple and nothing but an open road in front of us. We were free, and didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of us. But that was another lifetime ago, and this is now.

  I’m pouring a draft when the front door opens up and Felix, a guy I knew from high school struts in. He hesitates at the door and speaks to the bouncer.

  This is odd.

  He’s never been in here before, and he has no reason to now. Alarms begin to screech inside me. I watch them as they converse, the bouncer pointing toward the stage.

  What the hell is going on here?

  Felix is a DJ at a club across town, one of the newer trendy places where all the beautiful people go, the kids that belong to all the degenerates who frequent my bar.

  He’s heading for the stage. Niles’ DJ booth.

  Something is wrong.

  I watch every step he takes as my heart pounds harder and harder. When he steps behind there and flicks on the lamp, the ground feels like its quaking beneath my feet. Then a roar of thunder explodes inside my head. It screams the words Hawk had asked me about Niles.

  NONONO!

  Frantically, I whip my head around searching for Dave. He’d know what’s going on. He’d tell me where Niles is. My eyes dart from face to face, wild and crazed.

  He’s not here.

  Then dread engulfs me.

  NO. HE WOULDN’T. HAWK WOULDN’T DO THAT TO ME. NOT ME! NOT NILES, PLEASE DEAR GOD, NOT NILES.

  Slamming the bottle down on the bar, I storm from behind the bar and head straight for Frank’s office. The first time I’m going to step foot in there since that night.

  “Whoa, hold on there, Jo. You don’t want to do that,” Bo grabs my arm with an iron clad hold.

  “GET THE FUCK OFF ME. WHERE’S NILES?” I scream in his face.

  “I don’t know, Jo. But you’ll only make things worse if you go in there. You’re only asking for trouble.”

  The Glock is taunting me to pull it out and blow his face off. I almost do. I almost yank it out from the back of my pants. Almost. I clench my fist, hesitating, as a moment of clarity is yanked in front of my face with what Bo said.

  “What the fuck do you care what happens to me? None of you do. NONE OF YOU.” I yell at the room.

  Bo yanks me closer so his face is in mine. “You don’t know what the fuck I care about. Now get your ass behind the bar where you belong.” He inches closer. “If you know what’s good for you. Your little faggot friend isn’t here tonight. Big deal. Get back to work.”

  Rage rips through me, but I’m not so stupid to think I can take Bo, or any of them on. Not alone.

  “Why isn’t he here? He would have called me if he wasn’t coming.”

  Bo sneers. “Why don’t you ask Hawk? He’d know.”

  I actually stumble backwards, the force of his words hit me like a blow. “Wha…what are you talking about?” I can feel the color drain from my face, I’m unable to take in enough air, I feel like I’m choking.

  He laughs this sick demented sound. “Get back to work, Jo.” Then he shoves me.

  My legs feel like rubber, my head is spinning, and I know everyone is staring at me.

  I can’t look at Felix. I can’t see him standing in Niles’ place, like he doesn’t exist, as if nothing is wrong.

  Maybe nothing is wrong. Maybe Niles is out on a date tonight. Maybe he just took the night off.

  I try to convince myself that this is what’s going on, I try to reassure myself Niles is fine and is only being Niles, the Niles he used to be, irresponsible, carefree, coming and going as he pleases.

  It all feels so wrong.

  The front door crashes open as I stumble mindlessly through the tables on my way back behind the bar. Daisy slams into me almost throwing us both on the floor. Her swollen face and her moan of pain slices through my turmoil.

  “JIMMY’S DEAD. HE KILLED HIM,” she scream/sobs into my face.

  I clutch her arms to keep her from falling and hurting her already half broken body any more than it already is. She winces in my grasp, so I let go.

  “What are you talking about?” My question is barely audible. There’s no air in my lungs, I can barely speak.

  “Jimmy, he’s dead!”

  “Your brother?”

  “YES!” she wails.

  “No, no, no, he just took off for a little while like he always does. He’ll be back, he’s fine,” I try to embrace her, to soothe her. I try to keep her from getting any more of what happened to her that made her look like she went through a meat grinder. Both her eyes are swollen, her lips are cracked and don’t move because they’re huge. There are more areas of her skin that are bruised than not. Someone beat the hell out of her.

  “He’s DEAD. The chief told me!” she screams as her battered body trembles in my arms.

  I stop breathing entirely as the room falls quiet and I know every single eye turns to look at us.

  “Come on! Both of you!” Bo grabs both of us by the arms, one in each of his hands, and drags us to our feet.

  “Let go, she’s just confused!” I try to shake him off, but his grip is biting into my muscle too hard. I can’t get him off.

  Bo drags us through the crowd, Daisy’s sobbing and I’m fighting.

  My eyes search the crowd for any face with compassion. For a person that would step in and ask for the truth and demand what’s right. Panic rises within me like a fiery beast ready to eat me alive. It’s just like the last time, except now it’s so much worse. We’re in a room full of people watching as we’re being dragged to a fate worse than death. There’s no one, not a single soul that would intervene and stop what is most likely Daisy’s death because she pointed a finger, said a name out loud of one of the devils. I won’t have that luxury. I’ll most likely live to remember what’s about to happen to me. There’s no one. Except Hawk, but he’s not here.

  I feel him before I see him. Bo’s hesitation tells me something caught his attention. I jerk my head around and see Hawk heading for Frank’s office. Relief flashes inside me as precious air fills my lungs. But it’s immediately extinguished.

  He stares straight ahead, his expression hard and devoid of any humanity as he heads toward his boss. He’s not looking at anything or anyone.

  Not even me.

  That’s not Hawk. That’s the killer.

  CHAPTER 23

  Hawk

  You’ve got a job to do.

  It keeps my feet moving. It keeps me focused on the mission, not the woman being dragged through the crowd, a room full of people who don’t give a shit about anything but themselves and money. They could care less about how much blood it’s drenched in; how many people died for the things they’ve sold their souls for, how many lives were destroyed because of their selfishness. They keep their rose colored blinders on so they don’t see the atrocities they are responsible for. I don’t look, if I do, I’ll kill every person in here right now. I can’t stop. Thin
gs are already in motion.

  The demon’s raging inside me. I have to fight him back, and I’m barely winning.

  I heard what Daisy said about Chief Taylor, how he was the one who did that to her. However, he wasn’t responsible. That was all me. If I hadn’t antagonized him, the coward wouldn’t have taken his wrath out on her, and most likely Brandy as well. I can imagine the torture she endured to come out looking like that. It’s like another bullet shot straight into my chest. The one thing it seems that’s driving her, the one thing she’s getting her strength from, is her need for revenge.

  That makes two of us.

  Fuck me!

  I keep pushing myself forward, keep telling myself this is all going to be over with soon. That’s the only thing that stops me from blowing Bo’s brains out and dragging Jo out of here.

  Throwing the door open to the back offices, I push past Joe and his sidekick.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” the asshole growls.

  I spin and punch him in the face with the same momentum I’d been walking, hoping my fist will plow right through his skull. He drops to the floor. I don’t know if he’s knocked out, or just stunned. I hope he’s dead. I don’t stop. I turn and keep on until I’m pushing open Castillo’s door.

  “Hawk,” Castillo’s impassive tone grates on my last nerve, unbothered by the terror the two women out there are enduring, what Jo, Daisy, and Brandy have already suffered. “You did good last night. I’m very pleased.” He’s reclined in his chair looking like he’s just eaten a fat rat.

  You would be, you sick fuck.

  I slap the Ziploc baggy on his desk in front of him, and stand over it. “Your souvenirs.”

  His eyes slide down to the two body parts that can be seen through the clear plastic. “You brought me their dicks.” A sick, evil grin twists his lips. “How appropriate.”

  “Glad you like it. Problem is, Dave wasn’t your guy.” My voice is like a knife dragging against flesh.

  Castillo’s face hardens with fury. “Go on.”

  “Even as I sliced his dick off, he screamed it was someone else. Said he didn’t know. There’s no way a man could lie with what I put him through.” I stand. “Wasn’t him.”’

  “Did he tell you who the piece of shit is? Did he know who’s betraying me?”

  “No.”

  He taps a finger against his chin, thinking. “Fuck, I lost a good DJ because of bullshit.”

  The music’s going full tilt in the bar, like nothing just happened and the party goes on.

  Makes me fucking sick.

  “Listen to that shit,” he gestures toward the door. “What the hell is that?”

  The corner of my mouth kicks up in a sneer. “Sounds like Chris Brown.”

  His eyes meet mine. “The DJ dead too?”

  “You’ve got his cock in front of you. Your orders.”

  A long moment of silence passes and I can see him getting more furious, until he slams both hands on his desk. “I WANT THAT FUCKERS HEAD. FIND HIM.”

  “You got it,” I murmur, then turn and walk out.

  In the hall, Joe’s shaking the fog from his head. “I’m going to make a show of murdering you,” he seethes.

  I get in his face. “I’m saving something special for you.” My words are delivered quietly with an evil smile.

  As I walk toward the door, he yells at my back, “YOU’RE DEAD.”

  “Your time is coming. Very soon.” I fling open the door and walk into the bar.

  Heading for the front door, this time I look around. She’s not here, there’s no sign of Jo. Daisy either, but I knew there wouldn’t be. It’s business as usual for the douches, the bikers and truckers talking drug runs, the whores ready to entertain the guests. And the bouncers all watching me.

  The Grim Reaper’s coming, better start praying.

  CHAPTER 24

  Jo

  Darkness and terror are my existence. Pain is my reality.

  I’m not alone.

  I don’t know how many of us there are, too many for me to count, but there are so many, there’s hardly room for us to move. From the murmurings and quiet sobbing, my guess is many are illegals from the lack of English.

  Bo threw Daisy and I in the back of a van. I earned myself an open-hand slap to the face for kicking him in the balls, but it was completely worth it. Then he slammed my head against the floorboard when he got me immobile. Daisy’s a lot worse than I am, her injuries have got to be a lot more severe than I can see because all she could do was whimper when she made impact on the hard metal floor of the van. I tried to put up a fight, but he pinned me down with his weight and bound us with duct tape before shutting me up by slapping a piece of tape over my mouth for good measure.

  He didn’t take my gun, though.

  I don’t know how he didn’t feel it, but it’s still wedged in my waistband, although I can’t do anything with it. Not yet.

  It’s completely black inside the metal freight container, we don’t need blindfolds. The air is thick and disgusting with the stale smells of human excrements, urine, feces, and the metallic scent of blood. I had to choke back the vomit as it shoved its way up my throat. I forced the horrible thought that demanded realization - a lot of these women have been in here for days. I couldn’t admit to myself that I was thrust into Frank Castillo’s most vile business, I wouldn’t allow the thick cloud to slowly expose the truth of what this was.

  Human trafficking.

  The words choked me, the sounds beat at me, and the smells suffocated me, shoving the finality of what was happening into every part of me.

  I knew we were all women, not because I saw every person in the metal box when they pushed us inside, but I could sense it. Daisy is nearby, I recognize her whimpers, however, she is either in too much pain to know what’s happening, or maybe she’s given up. I need her help, and I hate it because her state of mind is too volatile.

  Bo had driven us to the docks. When the back doors flew open, the smell of the ocean hit me in the face, it was a welcome intrusion for a moment, until I realized where he was taking us. The place was deserted, except for Castillo’s men that were standing guard on the pier. The strip of tape stifled my screams as we were dragged into the open container. None of the cowering women moved from their crouching positions as they thrust us into them, they parted like water, accommodating us as if they were used to it. They most likely were.

  I hated them all at that moment. I hated their weakness, I hated the way they sat there and let this happen to them without putting up a fight. I couldn’t feel sorry for them, it’s not a strong enough emotion. Anger is explosive. Anger gives motivation. Anger is going to help get these binds off my wrists so I can blow Bo’s brains out. Next I’ll find Castillo.

  Then I’m going for Hawk.

  CHAPTER 25

  Hawk

  Invisibility is a tool. Darkness is a comfort.

  I am at home in both.

  No one tried to stop me when I left the bar. All of them know I’m working for Castillo, the Golden Boy as Jimmy had called me the first night; they know my job is to find the traitor. Jimmy, Daisy’s brother. The thing is, I’m the traitor to them, all of them would mob lynch me if they had the opportunity. None of them trust me, especially not Castillo, which is why he probably gets off just a little bit more by sending me. He’d watch the blood bath as we murdered each other.

  I know I’m going to, and I’m especially going relish when it’s Castillo’s turn.

  I know who the traitor is, Dave had confirmed my suspicions, but I wasn’t telling Castillo. Not yet, he’ll find out when it’s time. If I know anything about psychotics like Castillo, he probably knew it wasn’t Dave, but he needed to make a point, somebody had to be used as a lesson, and Dave had handed him the prefect opportunity.

  It’s my turn.

  Slipping through the darkness, gliding along the sides of the metal freight containers, I approach the only one with Castillo’s men stand
ing around. From here, I can see two of them. They’re guarding it, so whatever’s inside must be pretty fucking valuable. My eyes shift to the white van parked fifty feet away, the same one Bo and I had taken to move the drugs. The one I have no doubt he took Jo away in. My entire body rages with fury.

  Jo’s in that metal box, so is Daisy.

  I glance at my watch. I’ve got thirty minutes.

  Sliding a knife from its sheath, I bend my knees slightly and move forward. I’ve got to do this quickly and quietly.

  Silence is the best tool. There is danger in the silence, and you never hear it coming.

  Coming to the edge of the container where the guards are, I can hear the muffled sounds of whimpering and shuffling. Forcing myself to stay focused on the mark, I don’t think about trying to hear anything that would tell me it’s Jo I’m listening to. I’ve got to take care of the two guards, then I can concentrate on them. Get her out of here.

  Looking around for something that will get the attention of the guard closest to me, I spy some loose gravel by my feet. Lowering slowly, I pick up one and throw it. If he’s any good at all, he’ll come around the corner to inspect what made the sound. Pressing myself against the metal wall at my back about a foot from the corner, I wait.

  Bingo.

  He comes around the corner, and in the instant it takes for him to realize I’m standing there, I’ve got the blade plunged into his temple to the hilt. I’ve got him under the arms and pulling him to the rear of the box before he hits the ground.

  “Something back there?” his partner asks as I pull the blade from the guy’s skull, getting it ready for him.

  He comes around the corner, but he’s ready for something, he’s got his gun aimed. Grabbing the barrel with one hand, I bury the knife in the same place in his temple.

  Silence, everything has to be silent.

  Taking his gun and shoving it into my waistband, I drag him to his partner. I recognize both of them from the day I came out to here to load the drugs. I position myself at the front corner, and listen. Reaching out with my ears, I search the perimeter for any indications of anyone in the area. In particularly, Bo, I don’t know where he is.