The Road To Deliverance

by James, Harper

  It was a stupid thing to say. An automatic response devoid of meaning or the means to assuage guilt. She looked away. Hugged herself, jammed her cold fingers in her armpits, the slow thump of her heart heavy under her arms. Her throat ached. She swallowed drily. The sour taste filling her mouth wouldn’t go. She was scared. Scared of where the conversation was headed, scared of what he was going to say next. Why did she have to start the stupid conversation in the first place?

  ‘You want to know whose fault it is?’ he said, the bitterness still in his voice.

  No.

  ‘It’s his own fault of course. But it’s not only him. The bartender told me he’d been talking to some girl in the bar. Not just talking either. He disappeared into the restrooms with her. And this is the thing—she was talking to the guy who gave the bartender the note he gave me. I blame her. She set him up.’

  She wanted to die. The vitriol in the word her made her shrivel up inside.

  Because all the vague ideas that had been floating around in her mind had just fallen into place with all the force of a guillotine blade coming down on her neck.

  He was talking about her. It was too much of a coincidence otherwise. She had to make sure before admitting it.

  ‘Have you got a picture of him?’

  He gave her a questioning look, the request coming out of left field. For a split second she thought he was about to make a spiteful remark, ask her why she wanted to see the face of the man whose death or mutilation she’d as good as guaranteed.

  He didn’t, of course. Got his phone out instead, handed it to her.

  She opened up the gallery, found one instantly. Almost swallowed her tongue. She was as speechless as if she had.

  Jay was the guy from the bar, the one who’d rescued her from the two drunks. And look how she’d repaid him. No wonder people say there’s no such thing as coincidence, just connections we don’t see.

  Cole was like a stuck record, wouldn’t let it drop. The more he went on about the bitch in the bar, the harder it became for her to admit it was her. Sat there in silence, nursed the miserableness inside her. Waited for him to rephrase it one more time, read even more into something that never happened.

  She was so tired. All she wanted to do was fall asleep and never wake up. She let her head flop back on the headrest. Closed her eyes.

  Please. Make it all go away.

  Chapter 29

  THEY LEFT JAY ALONE with only his pain and the beef carcasses for company for the rest of the night and most of the next day. They left the brazier as well to stop him from getting hypothermia. Not because they were considerate that way, but because Lucas didn’t want him getting so cold and numb, he couldn’t feel pain.

  When the door handle turned quietly at around 5 p.m. instead of the whole door being kicked open, he had a good idea who it was.

  ‘You didn’t have to do that, Gabriel.’

  Gabriel shrugged, stared at his bandaged hand.

  ‘Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?’

  Jay didn’t need reminding, the searing, stinging pain from the burn intensifying at the mention of it, like salt rubbed into an open wound. Gabriel kicked the brazier angrily, a shower of ash falling gently on his shoe.

  ‘Sorry I made it worse for you. I couldn’t do it. Could’ve done it to Lucas, no problem. One day I will.’

  Jay didn’t tell him how much worse he’d made it, the pleasure it had given Lucas. It wasn’t the time for making him feel bad about himself. Not if he wanted his help.

  ‘Where are the others now?’

  ‘In a bar. They’ve been there all day. They need . . .’

  He dropped his eyes. Jay didn’t push him to complete the sentence he’d inadvertently started and wasn’t able to finish. He knew what he’d been about to say. They needed a little something to bolster themselves, to deaden the human capacity for compassion. In preparation for what they were about to do to a man they once called a friend.

  ‘You here to cut me down before they get back?’

  ‘The old man would kill me.’

  Jay didn’t need to tell him there are worse things than dying.

  ‘So why are you here?’

  Gabriel shook his head, eyes closed.

  ‘You don’t have to put up with all that abuse.’

  ‘No?’

  Jay felt the weight of everything bearing down on Gabriel in that one small word, the resigned what the hell would you know about it? accusation. He’d watched it first-hand the previous day. There was something more at play now. Back in the day, he’d seen what Gabriel endured every day from the likes of Lucas and the other guys. It was like water off a duck’s back. This was different.

  And different is rarely good.

  ‘What would you do, Jay?’

  ‘Get out. I did.’

  Gabriel let out an aggravated sigh.

  ‘Funny you should say that. That’s exactly what I was going to do.’

  He pulled a meat cleaver down from the wall. Felt the balance in his hand, ran the pad of his thumb lightly along the edge of the blade. Then swung it hard and fast, buried it in a wooden chopping block.

  Jay didn’t need to ask him whose features he saw in the grain of the wood. Gabriel pried the cleaver out of the chopping block, inspected the edge to make sure he hadn’t damaged it.

  ‘You know what people say about the old man’s steaks?’

  ‘I’ve heard the stories.’

  Gabriel sunk the cleaver into the chopping block a second time.

  ‘I overheard him talking a while back. He said gays make the best steaks because they’re so soft and tender. I don’t think I ever heard him laugh so much.’

  Jay was quiet as Gabriel worked the cleaver out of the wood again. This was a time for listening, for trying to blend in with all the beef carcasses surrounding him. Think dead cow he told himself.

  ‘He tolerates me, Jay. Because of my mother. How’s that make you feel, do you think?’

  ‘I can’t imagine.’

  ‘Lucky you.’

  Without warning he swung around, sunk the cleaver deep into the haunch of the nearest carcass. The ones behind it swayed, shunted backwards, a sea of exposed ribs dancing to the clang of metal hooks on the overhead rail.

  ‘You know what else he thinks? He hopes that maybe one day I’ll get better.’ He made quotes in the air as he said it. ‘Better! Like it’s a disease. I’ll meet some nice girl, see the error of my ways. And they all live happily ever after, selling drugs and chopping rivals into prime cuts. Aw. Everybody loves a happy ending.’

  Suddenly he was in Jay’s face, the cleaver in his hand slicing through the air as he became more animated.

  ‘Well, guess what? I did meet someone. Except it wasn’t a nice girl. Or even a nasty one, the sort of whore Lucas brings home.’ He tapped the side of his nose, put his lips close to Jay’s ear. ‘I kept it secret. Because even if the old man tolerates me, that’s as much as he can stomach at one time. I was all set to take your advice, get the hell out.’

  The bitterness in his voice hid a deeper, more poignant emotion. One that stemmed from a wound every bit as raw as the caustic, eye-watering burn on Jay’s stomach. It made Jay hesitate to ask his next question.

  ‘What—’

  ‘Happened? Nothing happened?’

  He spat the word nothing at him. Confusion clouded Jay’s face.

  ‘Because here I still am. I didn’t go anywhere, did I? The bastard I met upped and left without a word. Just like that. Adios. Sayonara. Kiss my ass, I’m outta here.’

  He spun on the ball of his foot, arm already drawing back. Hurled the cleaver tomahawk-style at the white-tiled wall. It pranged into it, chipping ceramic. Bounced off at a crazy angle, ended up somewhere under the beef carcasses at the back of the room.

  He turned back to Jay.

  ‘What would you say if I said I’d let you go?’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask you to marry me and run off with me if that’s what you’re hoping
.’

  There was a long moment when Jay thought he’d gone too far. Then Gabriel let out a burp of a laugh, a shocked croak.

  ‘I miss your humor. However insensitive it is at times.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that dies along with the rest of me if Lucas gets his way.’

  ‘Why’d you do it, Jay? You can’t have thought you’d get away with ripping off the old man.’

  So Jay told him. Hanging from a meat hook in a freezing meat store with a weeping-raw cattle brand on his stomach, he told Gabriel the whole sorry story.

  ‘Jesus wept,’ Gabriel said. ‘You should have asked the old man. He’d have given you the money twice over.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have been able to agree to his terms. I swore I wouldn’t work for him again.’

  ‘Not even—’

  On the other side of the room the door handle turned. It was exactly five thirty.

  Chapter 30

  ‘I CAN SEE YOU behind the carcasses,’ Lucas called. ‘What are you doing back there? The old man’s gonna be pissed if you spoil the meat. If you know what I mean.’

  He gave a dirty laugh, thrusting his hips as Gabriel stepped out from his hiding place. Jay saw he’d found the meat cleaver. Lucas did too. His lip curled.

  ‘Just me and you, eh, little brother?’

  He shoved the nearest carcass, a three-hundred-pound side of beef, swung it towards Gabriel. Took a fast step to the side wall. Pulled a long-bladed carving knife off the rack. He dodged to the side, jabbed at Gabriel with the knife.

  ‘Or were you going to use that cleaver to chop something off Jay?’

  Gabriel jumped backwards, kept the half carcass between them. Lucas took another step to the side.

  ‘Get yourself a little souvenir before it’s too late, perhaps. Don’t worry, nobody else wants the parts you’re after.’

  They danced back and forth. Moving between the rows of gently swaying carcasses, Lucas always on the offensive, a constant stream of homophobic abuse on his lips, like a boxer taunting his opponent.

  Gabriel swung the cleaver, a sideways swipe, buried it in a side of beef. Lucas stepped in fast, slashed at the back of Gabriel’s forearm as he worked the cleaver free, opened up a deep cut.

  Gabriel snatched his hand away, let out a loud hiss of pain. Lucas put a hand on his chest, shoved him backwards. Pushed him into the body cavity of the dressed cow behind him, a welcoming cocoon of ribs and red meat. Gabriel’s arms flew outwards, blood from the gash on his forearm smearing the chilled beef enclosing him.

  ‘Hey!’ Lucas yelled. ‘Careful. Don’t go giving the old man’s beef AIDS.’

  ‘Fuck you, Lucas.’

  ‘In your dreams.’

  He laughed, equal parts scorn and arrogance. It was a dangerous mix. Jay wouldn’t have risked it given the look on Gabriel’s face. And the razor in his pocket. Lucas was either a braver or a stupider man than Jay. Or maybe it was the booze talking.

  ‘This is too easy.’ He sank the knife into the carcass’s hindquarters, buried it to the hilt. Stepped away with a low sweep of his arm. ‘Please, carry on. Don’t let me interrupt you. You’ve still got twenty minutes, after all. I’d never forgive myself if I came between a condemned man and his last blowjob.’

  He did something disgusting with his tongue. Pushed it into the side of his cheek, face angled towards Gabriel, eyes mocking. Accompanied it with an obscene gagging sound at the back of his throat.

  It was an insult too far.

  Gabriel punched him hard on the nose, a straight right snapping out from the shoulder, choking off the sound, rocked Lucas back on his heels. Lashed out with his foot as Lucas swayed, caught him squarely in the balls, felt a hot, mean satisfaction right in the belly. Lucas’s eyes bulged, equal parts surprise and pain on his face. He crumpled, collapsed onto his knees. Gabriel placed his hands slick with his own blood on the shiny dome of Lucas’s head, shoved his face downwards, his knee already driving upwards, rammed his teeth down his throat.

  Throwing his head aside with all the disgust of a farmer rejecting frost-damaged crops, he was in front of Jay before Lucas’s face hit the ground, the straight razor in his hand. Jay looked away as he brought it down on the ties around his wrists, braced himself. A sharp hiss escaped his lips at the biting sting of the handmade Damascus-steel blade as it skinned the flesh on the heel of his hand.

  He dropped with his knees onto the middle of Lucas’s back, pinned him writhing and grunting to the floor while Gabriel cut strips off his shirt with the razor and bound his wrists. The last strip he balled in his fist, ready to stuff in Lucas’s mouth. Then he stopped. Held the razor in front of Lucas’s face, the tip under his eye.

  ‘Let me see you do that thing with your tongue again, Lucas.’

  Lucas had the sense to keep it still, safely tucked away in his mouth. Might have swallowed it to be on the safe side. He dropped his eyes.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’

  The contempt in his voice was so palpable he could have diced it with the razor. He held the balled-up fabric to the cut on his arm, waited as his blood soaked eagerly into it. Taking hold of Lucas’s chin, he forced it past his split lips and busted teeth, didn’t stop feeding it in until it was halfway down his throat. He leaned in, whispered in his ear.

  ‘Better hope you were wrong about the AIDS.’

  Then they got the hell out of there. Jay took the stairs two at a time, Gabriel struggling to keep up. At the top Jay stuck his head out the door, immediately jerked it back in.

  Too late.

  A car was slowing, pulling to the curb. A big black Ram pickup. Tinted windows open, loud music disturbing the quiet of the street. Lucas’s men. Laughing and fooling around, bellies full of beer and whisky. Inhibitions squared away, ready for the evening’s entertainment. Six o’clock sharp, don’t be late. Jay pressed himself into the wall, held up his hand. Gabriel pointed to a dark alcove at the side of the door.

  ‘In there.’

  He pushed him into the shadows before he could argue. Darted past him through the door, out into the street. Waved his arms, yelling at the guys in the car.

  ‘Quick! He’s got Lucas.’

  The car lurched to a stop, engine still running. Four doors flew open, four pairs of feet hitting the ground as one, thundering across the sidewalk. Jay pressed himself harder into the wall. Held his breath. They crashed through the doorway, poured down the stairs on a rising tide of adrenalin and alcohol.

  Gabriel stuck his leg out, tripped the guy bringing up the rear. Grabbed his arm as he stumbled, spun him backwards down the stairs. The guy let out a surprised yell, cannoned into the others. Everybody went sprawling, a messy pile of arms and legs and beer-breath indignant shouts.

  Jay was out the door before they hit bottom, Gabriel slamming it shut after him. Diving into the pickup, angry shouts coming up the stairs and through the door. And the sound of Lucas’s voice above it all, cutting through the night air as cleanly as Gabriel’s razor.

  ‘Bring me the maricón.’

  Then it was gone as Jay put his foot to the floor, back doors flapping, banging shut as they picked up speed, rear end fishtailing.

  He took the first right on two wheels, threw it hard around the corner. Bounced off an illegally-parked car, shooting down the narrow street. Right again at the end, stomping on the gas. Then heavy on the brakes, tires squealing, a spur of the moment decision, into a darkened alley.

  They slid down into the seats. Eyes on the side mirrors, breathing on hold. Ducked their heads instinctively as a red convertible Ford Mustang shot past the end of the alley, roof down, no music this time, just four pairs of eyes watching.

  Then it was gone.

  Gabriel looked across at Jay, long legs wedged under the steering wheel, and Jay got a very bad feeling.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

  Chapter 31

  SARAH JERKED UPRIGHT. Somebody was shaking her.

  ‘We’re almost there.’

>   Her head snapped around. It all came back with a bang.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You fell asleep. One minute you were awake, the next minute, you’re out of it. I let you sleep.’

  She blinked a couple times, shook her head. Outside dark thunderclouds hung low and heavy overhead, made it feel later than it was. She’d been asleep all afternoon. The remnants of a dream clung to her, a dream she didn’t want to think about. It wasn’t like all the other strange dreams she’d been having lately. It was much worse. She’d delivered Jay into the hands of the men who held him as Cole had insinuated. And then they’d rewarded her for being such a loyal member of the gang, handed her the knife.

  Go ahead, make the first cut. You know where.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay. You needed it. It’s your body reacting to the stress.’

  But it wasn’t okay.

  Her mouth was dry, a sour taste coating her tongue. She licked her lips. She remembered now, understood why her pulse was racing, her chest so tight. And it wasn’t because of the dream. Because that wasn’t real.

  This was.

  Getting more real by the second.

  ‘You dozed off as I asked you what you were doing asleep in the back of your car.’

  The question she’d been dreading. The one she knew he’d ask sooner or later. How do you tell someone you were sleeping off the effects of drinking with the man he’s trying to save from the mess he blames you for?

  You don’t.

  You avoid it at all costs until you get caught in a lie. Then you curl up and die.

  ‘I’d had too much to drink. I was trying to sleep it off.’ She looked down at her dirty, rumpled clothes. ‘I bet you’re thinking I look like the sort of person who sleeps in their car all of the time.’

  ‘No. I was thinking you weren’t very far from where I was supposed to meet Jay.’

  The sudden, randomness of the comment stole the words out of her mouth. Her throat clamped shut, choked off her breath. Stopped the words from coming, even if her heart hadn’t been in the way, right there in her mouth.

  ‘You okay?’

  She nodded. A small squeak popped out.