Unknown (12 page)

I ease off the gas a bit. No need to flip the car the minute I make it out. It won’t be too far to the water’s edge, if my calculations and daily telescoping is accurate at all. A smile creeps across my face as my body cools, the sweat evaporating from my neck in the gush of wind.

A flash of light triggers behind my eyes and an electrical shock runs through my frame as my head snaps back and my body jolts. Teeth clench as my legs shoot out and my chest rises. I stiffen under the pulse. Urine shoots down my legs and I flop forward, limp and useless now as the car slows down and rolls onto the shoulder. Dirt and gravel crunches under the tires and my beautiful baby drifts into the high grasses, thumping to a halt over the undulating earth. Smoke drifts out of my ears in gray wisps as my head lies on the steering wheel and the silent countryside eyes me with wary speculation.

2. MARCY

Freshly showered and smelling of baby powder and bourbon, I set out to find Roland. My head is spinning at the possible fallout, the repercussions that could come my way if he’s hurt or opens his mouth when he finds out what is going on. Standing in the blazing sun in my standard what-to-wear-when-in-hell hotware of shorts and a tank top, I pause to survey the bustling metropolis that is our humble existence. The illusion still holds in places, but for whom, I wonder. Most don’t want to know what’s going on, they simply want to be told what to do and where to do it. And that’s okay with me. We need a lot of worker bees to survive here, even if they won’t be around for much longer. The mainland is one thing, but we are not immune here. Well, most of us aren’t. I brush imaginary crumbs off the beige ribbed tank top, and smooth down my earthy shorts. My boots are laced up and my sunglasses are a wall to hide behind. A deep breath and I’m off.

Caves, river, highway, caves. Caves I think. I can kill two birds with one stone.

There is a little known path that starts just east of the river. Well, creek I should call it. Maybe it was once a river, but not anymore. The drought has taken care of that. The medicinal pine scent is my only protection and I head into the weeds to find my boy.

My mind is empty and yet overloaded. I try not to think of everything that has happened in the last couple of days. The last couple of weeks. Everything back to my time on the mainland. None of it seems real. It’s somebody else’s life. Before I know it I’m at the caves, the walk over a hazy blur of eager tree branches and whispering grass. Standing in the opening I stare at the arch. The ornate border of writhing bodies and mathematics stares back at me with a quiet strength.

“That’s new,” I mumble.

A dull red orb glows down from the epicenter of the curve. Before I can get a good look at it there is the rustle of overgrowth and the clearing of a throat from behind me. I spin around to see three men standing in front of me.

“Hey Marcy,” the tall, skinny one in front says.

“Uh...hey. What are you guys doing here?”

They glance at each other. Three dirty frat boys with stubble on their faces stand at the mouth of the cave, stuffed into their tan jumpsuits. Corn huskers, far from the fields.

“Shouldn’t you be out in the fields boys?”

“Uh, sure Marcy. We should be. But we saw you walking over here and wanted to make sure that you were okay,” skinny says, edging forward into the cave. His eyes are locked on mine, but slowly, as if given permission, they cruise up and down my body, soaking me up like a sponge.

“I’m okay guys, but thanks for checking up on me.”

I move my left leg slightly forward and shift the weight of my body to my back foot. I smile at them like a Sunday morning preacher bestowing wisdom to his lost flock. My hands turn to fists. I’ve been here before.

The two men behind him move forward nodding their heads, looking me up and down with no hesitation or shame. I imagine it’s been awhile for these guys.

“So...Caleb,” I say, squinting as I lean in to read his name off the name stenciled over his chest. “Why don’t you and...Nik over there, and your pudgy friend Christopher head on back to the corn you should be shucking, and I’ll just say thanks for your concern.”

“Well Marcy, that’d be nice and all, but you see, we’re kinda sick of being grunts around here. We don’t get any respect and we sure as hell don’t get a shower in our huts...” a flush of color drifts over me, as I wonder how long they’ve been watching me, and what exactly they’ve seen. “So we were thinking maybe you could do something for us. You know, since you’re always walking around all hot to trot and ready to go.”

They all creep forward a step thinking this is going to be the best day of their lives. A friendly little gang-bang between us buddies. A hot piece of ass.

“Oh, I see where you’re going with this,” I smile. “Well, finally somebody acts like a man and tracks down little old Marcy to give her what she wants. Come here Caleb, and give me a little kiss. I assume you want to be first, no sloppy seconds for you right? The man in charge?”

Grinning like a child on Christmas morning he walks forward rubbing his hands tentatively, licking his lips. He runs a hand through his stringy brown hair and sidles up to me. Leaning over with his mouth parted ever so slightly, his eyes drifting shut, he never sees it coming. It’s over in a flash.

A knee to the groin and he doubles over. I grab his head and wrench it to the right. It snaps, his eyes popping open as he crumples to the floor. His lecherous friends are an arms length away and I grab the tall one by his lapel and head butt his nose, breaking it instantly, blood shooting down his chest. With all of my focus and rage I summon the jiu kumite and with one punch to his chest, stop his heart. My grunt and scream fills the cave as I drop him like a sack of potatoes. The last one stands there staring at me as his pant legs fill with urine. His lips mumble as if he wants to say something but I will not hear it. A flurry of fists to his face and his body rocks back but stays up despite his eyes rolling up into his head. Before he can collapse I grab his sweaty head and pull it down to my uprising knee, driving his nose and what’s left of it up into his skull. If he isn’t dead, he’s certainly close.

Hot breath pushes from my mouth as I stand over them is a jujitsu pose. Straightening up I walk over to the pile of bones in the corner, to a tiny shelf on the back wall. I pull down a large hunting knife and head back over to the dying men. With three quick swipes their necks are cut open draining them of any life they may have had left.

“Motherfuckers,” I pant.

I grab them one at time and drag them over to the pile of bones. I toss them on top, wipe my hands off and stand back to admire my life’s work. I turn my attention back to the archway and the light that is now green.

“Now, where was I.”

I step into the archway to go after Roland. Unfortunately, it doesn’t turn out that way.

3. JIMMY

She stands in front of me with a freshly shaved head. It breaks my heart to shear off those dark tresses. And now she looks like a concentration camp survivor. With breasts. But she has to feel the part to play the part. And a couple of tears over some hair is a small price to pay.

“Okay, this is called Thai Chi. It’s a martial art that will help you to focus your energies and renew your strength. It’s known as a soft martial art style, so we won’t be hitting each other. It’s an internal power. Much of the time you are using your own body to provide you with all of the equipment you need. Between gravity, muscle tension, and your own internal dialog it’s all you’ll ever need. No weights, no equipment, nothing.”

“Okay,” Madison says.

“Just mirror me and do what I do. Place your right foot behind your left foot, perpendicular to it. Bend your right knee down,” I say with a grunt. “And then twist your torso back to face forward.” She is following me exactly. Good.

“Now push both of your hands out to the side so they are parallel with the ground and hold that pose.” I gasp. “Remember to breathe. We’re going to stay like this for sixty seconds.”

Our tiny closet has turned into a dojo and she is my first student. I study her form out of the corner of my eye. She is calm and focused and it takes a great weight off of me. I thought she might balk. Might whine when I asked her to cut her hair off. It isn’t a power trip. I’m not trying to break her down so that I can build her back up. That’s coming. This is now. It’s so I can disguise her, hide her from the men that will want to rape her. From the Blisterheads that will gladly tear me limb from limb and beat me to death with my own appendages. I would rather die than witness her torture but I have no real desire for either dark moment.

I need to toughen her up if she’s going to stand a chance. There is a quiet tension all around her, but a good tension. One of self-imposed pain and quiet. The control we hold over our bodies and minds will take us to Eden or leave us bloody in the dirt. Her arms are starting to shake as are mine. Her body is starting to wiggle, fighting the bent muscles and the strain of her weight. She turns her head towards me her infinite eyes asking but one question.

Is this enough? Is this enough? Is this enough? Can I let go?

57...58...59...60.

“Sixty,” I blurt out, lowering my arms, shifting my weight to my left side, and standing up from the bent position. She doesn’t move. She just smiles at me, holding her position, a calm washing over her. Her muscles are like stone, her body still. For a moment she floats off the ground, a glow around her, a peaceful violence that shocks me. She lowers her long, slender arms to her sides. She straightens up and moves her taut right leg back to meet the left. A perfect storm, she takes one breath, and bows to me. A smile creeps across her shimmering face.

“Our son has a new master, Jimmy. And his name is tranquility.”

4. X

The regime must be kept.

I drop to the hardwood floor and continue the exercise. The maintenance is a time consuming and draining affair but it must be done. Again and again I push my body off of the floor and over and over I track every muscle in my arms, my legs, my chest. The bonfire has been a lesson. I’ve grown cocky and it could have cost me.

...35...36...37...

They will be on the move. Jacob and Roland especially. Focusing on the growing pain in my biceps, the concentration is whittled down to a fine point of white light. The vibrations hone in on the sextet and I am taken to the ones who need me most.

...78...79...80

A flash of red and a gust of wind washes over me as I continue to raise and lower, raise and lower. There is a flurry of metal, a rapid fire of motion. I drift forward redirecting the bits of metal around the flying torpedo. I float over the men and become one with their minds. A great sleep falls over them and they will not remember a thing. Jacob will be okay, he will get through unharmed. It is not time for his demise yet. I need him intact.

...148...149...150.

My eyes open and I stop. Roland is coming. I should clean up soon. I pull my legs under and roll over onto my back. Bending my knees I commence. Through the open doors that lead outside to the stone patio and the swimming pool which glistens in the sun like a precious jewel, a flutter of brown fur and he is back. Up to my head Raymond skitters, chittering into my ear a succession of squeaks and wet mouth smacking.

...26...27...28...

“It’s okay, I know.”

Bending and straightening, bending and straightening, up and down. His incessant chatter fades in and out, in and out. He is a necessary tool, and as such, has to be oiled and put away for when I need him”

“Go on. It’s okay. I’ll talk to him. We’ll work it out. It’s not your fault.”

...62...63...64...

The shaken up little furball pauses and stares. He wants to bite me, I know that. He wants to take a little nip at my ear and draw blood. He hates me with all of his tiny heart, but like mutual parents of a gifted child, we keep our mouths shut and get along for the etterment of all concerned. He brought this on himself, and there is nothing I can do about it for now.

...109...110...111...

He squints at me and is gone. He shoots out the door towards the gate. Roland doesn’t have a key and I can’t very well wander down and greet him like a glorified housekeeper. He has his uses, Raymond, this childhood friend of mine, and I do owe him that one thing. That one favor.

...148...149...150.

Roland has questions and I have some of the answers. He wants to run away, and maybe I’ll allow it. The chess game that is management doesn’t need to know everything. Maybe it’ll keep him out of trouble. I can adjust the port. I’ll have to think of where to send him. There is so much to be done. But I can’t have my son, the prince of everything, just wandering around.

5. GORDON

Closing my eyes for a moment, I check my internal compass for the way to X. Standing between the barracks I know I can’t stay here. I can be discovered at any time. I head out into the jungle and see a path that I know leads to an artesian well. It’s one of the water sources here. I follow it for the time being since I need to head that way but I can’t run the risk of security or random workers so it’ll be off the path in a moment. Down a slight incline I run, up and over a small footbridge, and I’m across the creek. Glancing back, the buildings are barely visible. I’m deep enough to get off the path now but I need to stop for water. Up ahead I hear a waterfall. It must be the water’s source. Through the winding path I see a large pool of dark water. I slow and stop for a moment at the shimmering edge. Just for a second. I kneel down on one knee and scoop up some water. It’s shockingly cold and I shiver for a moment as it freezes my tongue and throat. But it is so clean. Glancing at my reflection for a moment a shadow passes over the water. She has long, stringy hair, matted with twigs and leaves. Before I can move, she raises a club and pummels the back of my head. The last thing I hear is the splash of my body falling into the icy water

• • • • •

I feel the hands on my body long before I see anything. They are soft and yet calloused. They run over my body, squeezing, poking, pinching my flesh. I am blindfolded but can tell that my arms and legs are tied to something and I am standing up. Crucified. Voices mutter and echo around me. I catch a word here and there, women chatting about their day, girls giggling as feet shuffle about and a subdued light flickers across my eyes. A breeze shifts, and I realize that I am naked. Fully exposed and vulnerable. I clench my jaw and wonder how I could have been taken so easily. I let my guard down for one second. Who are these people, and where am I?