Rhapsody

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Rhapsody Page 28

by Heather McKenzie


  Now we were held captive in a moving vehicle.

  I asked about Luke and Thomas, begged to see Oliver, and gave up after being ignored for the millionth time. When the vehicle came to a stop, we were transferred to a plane. I had lost all sense of time when I was ordered to get out and stand. My legs buckled beneath me.

  Hands were under my armpits, pulling me upright. “Almost there,” a male said with what might have been a hint of sympathy.

  Feet dragging over a flat surface, I was weary right to my bones. Wherever we were now, the air was just as cold and there was no breeze. It smelled earthy and dank, and I could hear the breathing of many men around us. Some were panting; were they carrying Oliver? Keys jangled, and a door opened. I bumped into something with my shoulder and lost my balance only to be grabbed before hitting the ground.

  “You can rest soon,” the same male voice said.

  I could tell by the change of gravity that we were in an elevator going down. When the doors opened, a whoosh of air—sweet with the scent of something floral and—deep fried?—rushed my senses. Ordered to sit, I was glad to find a chair beneath me and not the floor. Hands were working at my wrists, loosening the bonds, and then the blindfold was removed.

  I rubbed my aching hands as my surroundings snapped into focus; cement walls, no windows. In a room the size of a prison cell, a lone light bulb cast an eerie glow. Marlene was seated across from me, between us a small table and a mammoth size platter of French fries with little bowls of ketchup. Roses and lavender bundles were plunked into a pop bottle and wilting at the edges.

  “What the—” Marlene blinked madly, taking it all in, then flew around the table to me, almost knocking it over. “Are you okay?” she asked as we both crumpled to the floor in each other’s arms. The door shut. A lock clicked in place. We were alone.

  “I’m fine. You?”

  We were both trembling and scrambling away from the table as if it were crawling with snakes. With our backs up against a cold wall, we buried our faces into each other’s shoulders and let the utter terror of the day release in tears.

  “Oliver…?” Marlene said after a while.

  His name caught the breath in my chest and my stomach lurched. “I-I don’t know.” I didn’t know about Luke either, or Thomas, and the worry was almost smothering.

  “You’re going to owe me big time for riding along on this family vacation of yours,” Marlene said, rubbing her wrists where the rope had chafed her skin.

  This family reunion was going to result in our deaths.

  “Stay positive. We’re going to be okay,” she added, clutching my hand.

  “What makes you think that?” I noted the sink and toilet in the corner of the room, grateful as my stomach twisted in agony.

  “They haven’t killed us yet. Besides, there’s food.”

  Hours went by. The scent of the flowers disappeared, and the smell of stale fries took over. Marlene had fallen asleep on my shoulder, and I nudged her awake when the lock on the door clicked. We braced ourselves, expecting to see one of the many men we heard outside the door. But the tiniest, most unassuming woman entered instead. She was so small and petite it was confusing. Grey, grandma-hair, and a purple sweater with an embroidered Rudolph on the front hung off her thin frame.

  “Stay right where you are, girls,” she said, voice scratchy with age. She was holding a metal bar in her hand. “This handy device will send your asses into next year if you so much as even pass gas. So behave, or I’ll smack ya with it and let in one of those lard-brained wing nuts outside the door eager to do much worse.”

  When we didn’t reply she yelled. “Got it? Or are your ears filled with cotton? Need a demonstration?”

  Marlene flinched when the tiny woman made a motion toward her with the bar. “No, ma’am,” she said quickly.

  “Ah. I can tell you’re familiar with this little device, aren’t ya?”

  Marlene was shaking. “Yes, ma'am,” she muttered.

  “Good. Now put out your hands.”

  We did as we were told. The old lady eyed the ring on Marlene’s finger, then the scar on my hand. She sneered when her sharp eyes met mine. “You look nothing like your mother,” she said, then yelled to whoever was outside the door. “It’s all clear. Bring it in.”

  A tray smelling of cinnamon was placed on the table and the fries were removed. All the while, Marlene stared in terror at the bar in the old lady’s hand. Even when she left and shut the door, Marlene was still trembling.

  “What was that thing?” I asked.

  “That was a cattle prod,” Marlene squeaked out. “It delivers a jolt of electricity, and it’s the most painful thing I’ve ever felt.”

  There were tears on her cheeks. The big, tough farm girl was terrified.

  “What? Why have you felt that?” I asked, realizing exactly what that device was and shivering myself.

  Marlene took in deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. “Well, since we’re going to die, I guess I might as well tell you.”

  “Yes. Please do. Anything is better than thinking about what might happen next in here. It can’t be as bad as this.”

  She balked. “Twice, Kaya. Ben used it on me twice. The first time on my arm, and the second time, right on my cheek.” She rubbed at her birth mark. “He’d been rounding up cattle and had it in his hand when he came into the shack while I was warming up after skating.”

  My hand flew to my mouth in stunned silence.

  “He used it first as a warning, showing me what it could do so I wouldn’t move while he, while he—”

  I knew where this was going. I was one of Ben’s victims, and if it weren’t for Thomas, it could have been much worse. I patted Marlene on the leg to encourage her to continue.

  She gathered her breath. “One of his hands roamed all over me while the other held the cattle prod. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. I hoped he’d stop, and at one point it seemed the fog lifted, and he realized what he was doing. He even said my name like he was just realizing who I was, but when I used that opportunity to push him away, he snapped back into attack mode. He brought that cattle prod to my face. It knocked me out, and I woke up to him trying to remove my pants.”

  I felt sick. “Did he—get them off?”

  Marlene straightened up and rolled her shoulders. Wiping at her eyes, she took in a deep breath and put on her fierce face again. “No. I booted him between the legs with one of my skates and got out of there. Too bad the skate guard was on.” She paused and cracked her neck. “You know, the bastard carried on the next morning at breakfast like nothing happened. Offered to clear the lake for me to skate ‘because it had snowed overnight. I thought I was going crazy. He pretended like nothing ever happened. But the burns on my arm and face that showed up twelve hours later made me certain it did. I spent ages trying to figure out what caused him to attack me like that. Was I dressed provocatively? Did I say something to lead him on?”

  “You didn’t do anything. It wasn’t your fault. Ben was sick.”

  Marlene nodded. “Oh, I know that now. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was wearing a G-string and stripper heals or a head to toe burlap sack… no means no. But it sure messed with my head for a long time.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I asked.

  “He was drunk, and he’s my dad’s best friend.”

  “Neither is a good excuse.”

  “Yes. I know. It’s just that, he did so much good for our family. Saved our farm from bankruptcy. Helped whenever we needed it. He was an angel with a devil on his shoulder.”

  I sighed in agreement.

  “I almost lost myself over it though,” Marlene said, her voice bouncing off the concrete walls. “What he did was wrong. He had no right to touch me. No right to take advantage of me in any way, drunk or not. And because I let him get away with it, he tried to do it to you. If I would have just told somebody, maybe it could have been prevented. Maybe he could have gotten some help.”


  “Yes. Maybe,” I agreed.

  She turned and traced the raised scar on my arm, running her fingers over the puncture wound, then boldly touched my neck and the other scar there.

  “I hate to admit it, Kaya, but you inspire me.”

  This came as more of a shock than anything. “What?”

  “I noticed your scars right away. No one has injuries like that and isn’t ‘changed’ by them. I could tell you were fierce under that delicate exterior even though you couldn’t see it yourself.”

  “I don’t feel fierce now,” I said, staring at the oddly massive cinnamon buns we stubbornly avoided. Earlier today Marlene had to slap some sense into me, and the words she hurled at that cabin wouldn’t soon be forgotten. I felt like such a fool for holding a knife to my chest.

  “We all stumble,” she said intuitively. “I just had to make sure you picked yourself back up.”

  The room grew colder. We sat for a long while, stomachs sucked up against our spines, thirst threatening to make us mad but too tired and scared to move.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” Marlene said softly.

  I had dozed off after running a million scenarios through my mind, none of which had a positive outcome. “I don’t know.”

  “Ben’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked.

  I wasn’t going to lie to her. “Yes.”

  “By these people?”

  “No. My birth mother. He was caught in the crossfire.”

  “Who are they?” She motioned at the door and the noise of many from behind it.

  “My grandfather. He wants me dead. You know—money, power, and blah blah blah.”

  Marlene had on her brave face again. “Man, your family is super fucked up,” she said. “Pardon my French.”

  Marlene wasn’t one to swear, but her description was correct. “Your French is perfect.”

  There was a commotion outside the door. The lock clicked, then clicked again, and I thought I detected the voice of the old lady tearing a strip out of someone. Marlene and I kept talking, focusing on anything other than the predicament we were in.

  “Maybe you fell for Thomas ‘cause he saved you from Ben,” she said.

  There was a loud crash. We both pretended not to hear it.

  “He was like a knight in shining armor.”

  Marlene smiled. “Yeah, and his hair is as glossy as it gets.”

  This made me smile, too. “I love you, Marlene,” I blurted out.

  She laughed. “Oh, for crying out loud, I know that! You love everybody; the guy at the store, your hairdresser, heck, you probably even loved Ben at one point. That's just who you are. A naïve girl with a heart as big as my aunt Frieda’s donut-lovin’ butt.”

  “I don’t love everybody,” I said, sounding childish and whiny.

  “Okay, well, very strong like then. I mean, besides your parents and grandfather—because, hello, if you didn’t hate them you’d be certifiably loony—who do you hate? Who do you really not like?”

  “Lots. There are lots of people,” I said, racking my brain. “Ellis. There. I don’t think he’s very nice. Although, I wonder if it’s because he’s the baby of the family and gets ignored. There probably is a decent side to him I just haven’t seen it yet.”

  “Ha!” Marlene said triumphantly. “There isn’t. He’s a total dick.”

  There was more commotion. Thudding, rustling, male voices giving orders, and I was sure I heard Oliver. Marlene and I clutched our hands together, both wanting to call out to him, but knowing there was nothing he could do.

  “For what it’s worth,” Marlene said softly, toying with the wedding ring on her finger. “I kinda sorta love you, too, but I’m only admitting that ‘cause we’re gonna die.”

  I suspected her words were also meant for the man she’d married.

  “What the heck? You don’t like my cooking?”

  We woke to the old lady looming over us, thankfully without the cattle prod.

  “I’m a weapons expert,” she said angrily. “You think I felt like behaving all motherly and fixing you spoiled brats something to eat? No. I don’t. Are ya too good for cinnamon buns? Huh?”

  Marlene and I collectively muttered, “No, ma’am.”

  “Well,” she went on, “they’re all hard as a rock now. I can practice my pitching arm with ‘em.”

  She turned for the tray, and at the back of her pants was a regular handgun. I was completely awake now and sitting upright. If I could get to it, I’d have some leverage. I mean, she was old. Probably as slow as molasses.

  My body instinctively began to lurch forward. But I didn’t even make it half an inch before she swung around and had that gun in Marlene’s face.

  “I won’t shoot you, Miss Lowen,” she said, eyes narrowing on me, hand steady as the day. “But I will put a million bullets in this one’s head if you even think of jumping me. Got it?”

  I nodded my complete understanding.

  “Stupid girl,” she said, cussing me under her breath, then turning to leave.

  “Wait,” I called after her. “Can you tell me about my friends?” I used my most respectful voice hoping to win her over just a bit. “Oliver and two other men… I heard someone say they had them. Can you tell me where they are? Are they okay?”

  The old lady swung around with fury in her eyes. “Do I look like I work at the hostage information desk? Do I have ‘ask me whatever you want’ written on my forehead? Did I give you any impression that I care about what’s happening here at all? And never mind the food, I’m paid to do that, but I’m sure not paid to dish out info to a spoiled brat. If that bothers you, feel free to take it up with management and slip a note in the suggestion box.” With that, a cackle of laughter erupted from her. “Suggestion box. Ha. I crack me up.”

  We waited until she contained herself. Which seemed to take a while.

  “Anyway, we’re going to be moving you both to a different facility. Could be in hours. Could be in days. So I’ll be bringing by some burgers and cokes. Whatever you don’t eat, I will shove down your throats with my bare hands. We clear?”

  Mutual nodding ensued.

  She left, taking the stale buns with her.

  “I don’t eat meat,” I said, of all the things to be worried about.

  “I don’t eat buns with sesame seeds,” Marlene said as the door lock clicked. “So it’s a good thing we have each other or we’d be screwed. That old broad is horrifying.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “Although, she’s kind of interesting. I think there’s probably a real softie underneath that gruff exterior. Under different circumstances, I’d probably like her.”

  Marlene leaped to her feet and pointed at me. “Ha!” she said triumphantly.

  “What?” I asked in confusion.

  “I’m right!”

  She strolled over to the sink, washing up and gloating as I pretended I didn’t know what she was talking about.

  Thomas was haunting me so, apparently, I had gone to hell.

  “Luke… wake up…”

  Even in the thick cocoon of darkness encasing me, I could not shut out his voice.

  “Luke. Come on, man, wake up.”

  I opened my eyes—tentatively—and there he was. And by the surge of pain that shot through my arms and shoulders I fully realized I wasn’t dead.

  My wrists were in chains and up over my head. “Where are we?” I asked, throat dry, environment slowly starting to come into focus. Thomas was next to me in the back of a windowless van. Six men, armed and silent on benches, minded us while we sat on the metal floor.

  “I don’t know. You’ve been out for hours though,” Thomas muttered.

  I glanced down at my chest, remembering the pain before I blacked out. I was surprised I was still in one piece. My confusion was noted.

  “We’re not savages,” the only man not wearing sunglasses said, and I suspected that was because his eye was swollen shut and nose painfully cocked a little too far to the side. I was pretty sur
e I was the cause of that. “Unlike that sadistic sicko Henry Lowen, we use tranquilizer guns whenever possible.” He tapped what looked like a rifle against the side of the van as a warning. “But I can still do some pretty severe damage with it. So don’t make me angry or I’ll aim for a body part you won’t recover from.”

  “He means your eye, Luke,” Thomas said.

  “Yeah, I figured that.” My muscles screamed in agony. “Where are you taking us?” I asked, assessing the man with the broken nose and the others; three were alert and big enough to put up a fight, and two at the back were weary and thin and would be an easy take. “Who are you working for?”

  Silence.

  I tried another approach. “Did you get what you wanted?”

  Broken Nose nodded with an antagonizing smile. “Yes. We have Kaya Lowen. She’s pretty. Could be a lot of fun.”

  My resolve snapped, and the chains clanked as I tried to yank free of them. “Don’t touch her. Leave her alone.”

  The man closest to me shrunk back, and even Thomas tried to inch away, but Broken Nose didn’t bat an eye. “If we would have ‘left her alone’ she would be with Henry right now and the rest of you would be dead. You should be thanking us for saving your butts.”

  I was—and wasn’t—listening. My exhausted body and emotions were getting the best of me. I caught my breath and tried to assess my restraints, which were most certainly intact. I had to try and break free though. If I could take a hostage…

  “She’s just my type,” Broken Nose said, clearly enjoying my torment. “We’re taking the long way home, but we’ll meet up with her in a few hours. I just hope by then there will be a piece of that sweet ass left for me.”

  Control—gone. Motive—kill.

  I yanked my fists forward, putting my body weight into the force and ignoring the ooze of warmth as the cuffs cut into my wrists. Rage mixed with fear and desperation kept the pain at bay as I slammed manically against my restraints. After what had happened to me by the hands of The Girl in the dungeon, I barely felt the pain now, just the heat of anger and the groaning metal siding of the van heaving around the hooks securing my chains. A rivet snapped, and I imagined that whip against my back as I thrashed forward. I imagined my hands around the neck of every one of the men in this van when the hook pulled free…

 

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