Unbeaten

by A. R. Shaw

  Ivan handed Jason over. The guard held Jason up now, steadying him in a standing position. It was getting harder to breathe. He was facing the guard and away from Ivan. They were having a conversation. When Jason glanced at the guard’s face, he mouthed the words, “They don’t call you Ivan the Adopter for nothing.”

  Or something like that. The guy had a beard so it wasn’t easy to tell what he was saying. Maybe it was Ivan the Clopper? That would make more sense. Ivan the Clobber-er? Hell, maybe it was Chopper. That would be bad. Ivan the Dropper? This whole lip-reading thing wasn’t a perfect science and his eyes were getting blurry anyway.

  He never did really figure it out since the guard was now hustling him to the cell again, shoved him inside and slammed and locked the door with a clang. Jason turned suddenly. He’d heard the clang. There was something about that high-pitched metal strike.

  The guard looked at him and tilted his head.

  Jason diverted his gaze from the gate to the floor. He shuffled over to the corner of the cell and slid down, tilting his head up in the corner in hopes the bleeding would stop. The last thing he wanted to see was his own blood trailing a river to the drain again. That was his new goal in life. Never let his blood go to waste.

  43

  Sloane

  Sloane walked through the night, oblivious to the light rain soaking her hair.

  “Thankfully, it’s a new moon tonight,” Chuck said as he strapped on the heavy backpack. “The only light we have to deal with is the reflection of the torches along the bridge.”

  “Be careful with that thing. Don’t drop it,” Kent warned.

  “Yeah, that would be bad,” Chuck said.

  Sloane almost smiled at the guy’s banter. She was too busy thinking of all the truly bad things that might happen soon.

  Her daughter caught her look. She wasn’t smiling at all. She was dead serious as she zipped up her hoodie.

  “Are you sure you can swim with that thing if you need to?” Kent asked her.

  Wren nodded. “I’ve done it before.”

  “That’s when the water wasn’t near freezing and waving at you. This is different,” Chuck warned.

  “I know what it is,” Wren said defiantly.

  “No. You don’t, sweetheart. That water will suck your breath away stone cold and freeze your limbs as soon as you plunge into it. There’s a big difference here, kid. I know you think you’re tough but you’re not that tough,” Chuck said.

  Wren glanced at her mother in a plea for intervention.

  Sloane said nothing. Her daughter needed to hear it.

  “Swimming in the ocean off the beach is one thing. Getting slammed against the jetty rocks will take more than your breath away. You have to be realistic, Wren. You go down, then I have to deal with your mom and dad in basket case mode. That’s going to ruin this whole vacation we’re on. Do you understand the risks?” Chuck said.

  Her daughter was probably pale as a sheet, but Sloane couldn’t tell in the darkness. She did see that Wren had nodded her head.

  “Okay, then,” Chuck said and walked away.

  Sloane let the lecture sink in a second and then said, “He’s right, Wren.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  But that was all Sloane would say. Her daughter walked off with the crunch of gravel beneath her boots. Sloane regarded the little group there. She knew she shouldn’t think it, lest she manifest the future, but she couldn’t help knowing they’d return with fewer of them. They were prepared as much as possible and sitting on the ends of truck beds after readying their gear. Most of them were in quiet thought. She clapped her hands to get their attention, “Let’s get moving. We need the cover of dark to pull this off, and it’s wasting.”

  She leaned into Kent as the others began to walk away.

  He drew her into him, his smell forever something she could not live without. His hand reflexively found the skin on the small of her back and inched south. As he whispered in her ear, “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” his brow furrowed.

  “You never had a choice,” she said with a smile.

  He swallowed and then nodded, hugging her, perhaps for the last time. “Return to me,” he said.

  “Haven’t I always?”

  She didn’t let him answer the question. She ran after the others to catch up. Kent would stay with Marvin and check in with their radios.

  She saw their silhouettes in the distance against the glow of the firelight, specifically the outline of her daughter. Boyd’s was hard to miss as he kept close to Wren, still feeling the need to pay his guilt debt to her. She knew this trip wasn’t going to help that cause. His little sister was more than likely gone by now. These people held no life sacred, it seemed. Not even a child’s. But there was no way she could keep Boyd from trying to find her.

  More than anything, she wanted to banish these people from the Cannon Beach area. Sloane had no qualms about killing those of them willing to do harm to innocent lives. Then again, she also knew a few might die with what she was about to do. Was she any better than her enemy? She couldn’t think about that right now.

  Finding Jason and shutting them down was her mission at the moment. Soul-searching would have to wait another day or two.

  By the time they’d rounded the final building, the torchlights illuminating the center bridge were in full view. It looked like something out of a medieval romance movie, only there should be a castle and a prince on the other side. Not a damn psychopath.

  “Mom,” Wren said in a hushed whisper. “Come on,” she urged with a tilt of her head as she held the boat steady over the rocky shore.

  Sloane stepped in and then Wren came in behind her, pushing off with her foot. Boyd nudged them farther over a low coming wave. There were three boats.

  Was anyone watching them?

  All heads were on a swivel approaching the open shoreline near the jetty. Those they assumed kept watch of the bridge either didn’t want to approach them and kept to themselves or they’d vanished, sensing that trouble would soon come too close to them.

  She and the others rode wave after wave and kept clear of the rocky shore. Paddling was difficult and more than once she sensed Chuck wanted to curse out loud.

  The roar of the waves pretty much kept them from speaking, though they’d avoided that anyway. Words traveled faster over water.

  Before they’d left, Sloane had looked out over the waves and realized the torchlight actually played to their advantage.

  “We have to stick to the shadows before we can approach the center suspension bridge. The flames actually dilate their vision, instead of illuminating the waters below. Their focus has always been to light up the bridge, which means they can’t really see much out over the water. It’s our only advantage.”

  Chuck and the others agreed. The next part of their plan was less advantageous.

  44

  Davis

  Davis stared at the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his left cheek. They’d handcuffed him for a reason. He could never stand the sight of Tale. The cuffs were for that man’s safety, not his own. But if there was a glimmer of hope…he had to wait for the right opportunity.

  “He’s back from the wasteland,” Tale said, placing one hand on the metal bedrail.

  Davis glanced at it. There was a gold ring upon his tattooed finger. He wanted to break the damn thing off and shove it down the man’s throat. How many times did he witness this monster kill the innocent? Did he do this same atrocity to his own family? As far as he knew, he only kept a few whores, but they didn’t last long. That’s why he didn’t want to take the girl with him. He didn’t want to have that responsibility weighing on his conscience as well as every horrible thing he’d done in the past to appease this monster.

  Could Tale have killed his wife and boys and stand before him like this?

  Yes. Only Tale was that demented.

  He didn’t carry the same human quality inherent in even the worst of criminals. He had no s
ense of guilt, shame…nothing like that. Not even a glimmer. An empty soul, and that had to end soon. Now more than ever, Davis realized he should have sacrificed himself long ago to rid the earth of this man. He’d been a coward. He’d lived in fear. Just like all the others under his control…he’d failed humanity. But not for long. Tale’s days were numbered. That was a promise he made then and there.

  “Why are you here, Davis?” Tale said with a slight lilt of sarcasm in his voice. It was a rhetorical question. “Did you come back to warn me of some possible danger? I asked myself this question when I heard of your return. I send you guys out with clear instructions. You know the consequences. You had a job to do. You failed. So why’d you return?”

  Davis seethed. Perhaps Linda was wrong. Perhaps it was foolish to hope.

  “Oh,” Tale chuckled. “I see. You brought back one of theirs. You think that’s enough to make up for your failures? He’s just a kid, and I hear he’s useless to me anyway. So he knows how to fly a couple of gadgets. What the hell is that? And apparently Hyde already spent some time with him. He’s just a liability to me now. I have no use for him or the people he came from. That’s why I sent you to do your job.”

  Davis swallowed but still said nothing. His hands were balled into fists as he tried to twist them through the openings of the cuffs.

  Tale clicked his tongue three times, as if he were chastising a child.

  “Oh, you thought I’d spare your dependents…that’s what you thought. There was a reckoning, Davis. You knew there would be.”

  His fist jerked up, pulling the chain taut suddenly.

  Tale smiled.

  With dead eyes, Davis drilled into his stare.

  Two guards appeared behind Tale. Beyond them, Linda stood in the doorway, shaking her head. Was she was denying what Tale said? Or giving him false hope?

  Davis didn’t know what to believe beyond the fact that it didn’t matter now. Tale was as good as dead. This man would end soon.

  “The question remains, what do I do with you now? No one is allowed to stay without dependents. Not even you, Davis. Linda? Are you done with him?”

  She walked forward. She still did not look him the eye. “He’s in no condition to leave here. He needs a few more days. He can’t even walk.”

  Tale stared at him and seemed to think about his options for a while. Then finally, with a tilt of his chin, the guards went ahead and removed the cuffs, tightening them instead behind him. “Take him to the hold,” Tale said.

  Davis knew the guards. Knew there was no talking to them. Bribery wouldn’t work, either. They were too scared, with too much to lose, just like he was—or had been.

  “You can’t do that. He’s…” but that was all Linda said before Tale landed a hard strike across her face.

  She fell to the side and landed on the ground with a thud.

  “Don’t ever tell me what I can or can’t do!” Tale roared.

  Everyone stopped. Even the guards.

  Tale stormed out, eating the ground as he did.

  “Someone…someone help her up,” Davis said.

  But the guards paid no attention to his words and instead began to haul him away, one on either side. It was true, Davis was in no condition to be out of that bed, but still he struggled with them. “Dammit, make sure she’s okay. Don’t leave her like this,” he said as they took him from the room.

  She hadn’t moved from where she’d landed on the concrete floor. Her wild curls covered her face.

  45

  Jason

  The damp cold made Jason shudder with chills. He wrapped his arms around himself tighter and huddled closer to the corner wall. Occasionally someone would come in, it seemed at regular intervals. He was making mental notes. If they wanted his attention, they threw wads of paper at him, which Jason collected and stuffed inside his jacket for more insulation. Never let a good thing go to waste.

  So far, no one had brought him anything to eat though, let alone water to drink. That told him a thing or two. He wasn’t likely to remain a guest for long.

  Then something made him jerk up. It was that sound again. The metal strike. When he looked up, two men were dragging a third man inside the cell next to his. There were only two cells in the small holding room, jail or whatever you wanted to call it. This guy was in a hospital gown, though. They hadn’t even bothered to give him underwear. His bare ass hung out for all to see. Poor schmuck…wait a minute. That’s Davis.

  Not that he’d seen his butt before, but he could tell from behind that it was him…it was the bandaged heels that gave it away.

  They let him go and Davis caught himself from falling by leaning against the back stone wall. He said something to them as they left. It was probably not a kind word, Jason assumed. Then the door closed.

  Jason couldn’t help but stare at him. The man held sorrow too visible on his shoulders. It seemed his plan had failed if he’d landed himself in here.

  Davis turned then, and his eyes met Jason’s. Jason nodded as if to say, Hi bro.

  Davis returned the gesture, then walked to the adjoining bars.

  “Get up,” he said.

  Jason wasn’t sure what he wanted.

  “Get up. Get off the floor,” he said again, but this time his face looked a little angry.

  Jason shook his head. Heck, it was cold.

  Davis pounded hard on the railing. “Get up, you little bastard. You’re going to get hypothermic like that. Get up! Move around,” Davis said, gritting his teeth.

  What the…? Jason thought. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Why the hell do you care? But Jason found himself sliding up from his seated position anyway. When he did, several of the pieces of paper dropped from the stuffing beneath his jacket.

  Davis looked at the paper on the ground and shook his head. “You…need to move around. Build your body heat. Do some fucking jumping jacks.”

  Jason shook his head. I’m not doing any fucking jumping jacks.

  “Do them,” Davis yelled.

  Jason shook his head again and took a step back.

  Davis hit the railing again. He looked so pissed he might even turn into the Hulk at any second.

  Dang…what the hell’s this guy’s problem?

  “You wanna see your little girlfriend again? Do what I say. Do ten jumping jacks. You’re fucking shaking.”

  Jason understood then…but he shot him the bird anyway and then, instead of doing jumping jacks, he landed himself on the floor, pushed up, jumped up and repeated the burpees to the count of ten. His limbs were numb with cold but with each one, feeling returned.

  When he was finished, he saw that the guard had come into the room again. He was handing Davis a blanket through the railing.

  Why didn’t they give him a blanket? Jason wondered. Those guards played favorites.

  But then again, Davis’s ass was bare…so there was that. No one wanted to see that.

  This wasn’t just any guard, though. It was Ivan…the chopper or whatever. While they were talking, Davis pointed to Jason and said something he couldn’t quite make out with his head turned to the side.

  Ivan shook his head. It was probably over the blanket. Maybe Davis asked him to give him one too? That would be nice of him.

  Ivan turned to leave, and Davis asked him something else, but Ivan’s jaw clenched, and he never looked back as he left the room.

  Jason looked to Davis then. The man stared at the floor, clenching his blanket in his hands, then looked up at him. His eyes met Jason’s. Something horrible had happened to him but he didn’t think he’d want to talk about it. Get it off his chest. Nothing like that. This guy wasn’t touchy feely. Davis’s look changed then, as if he’d made a decision. He stared at Jason and mouthed, “Ten more.”

  46

  Sloane

  “First of all, I don’t recommend this. You’re all going to die horrible deaths, but I know you won’t listen to me. When you get there, to the other side, you’ll have to avoid going ashore al
ong the main road. There’s a nice old Bayfront Best Western to the left,” Marvin had said.

  She nodded, thinking perhaps she’d seen it once a long time ago, when things were normal. That seemed a lifetime ago now.

  “Don’t go there. That’s where a lot of the guards live. Instead, take the boats to the right under the bridge. Follow along the shoreline until you see a couple of buildings. One was a coffee shop but was demolished in the wave. There’s a house after that, and a rusted old building that’s barely standing up. One more place down is a blue or purple auto parts store. I can’t remember which. You can’t miss it. No one will be there. It was looted a long time ago of anything useful. The doors are open. Start there. You guys can regroup and catch your breath. Then you can cross the street into the greenbelt that runs west through this neighborhood,” he said as he drew the map. “You’ll have to skip through a couple of streets. Most of these people aren’t going to give a crap what you’re doing but every now and then, some jackass will squeal on you just for brownie points. So don’t get caught. That’ll take you to the road you came in on. Then…if you made it that far, which I doubt,” Marvin glanced at her then, “you should see the blue and teal building with an orange roof, the Port of Astoria Building, down Portway Street from there.” He shook his head as if trying to figure out the best way to proceed. “If I were you, I’d pick my way across. It’s hard to tell until you get there, but you’re pretty much out in the open. Take cover behind the various buildings. Or you could head to the marina and skirt along the edge, maybe go up the Riverwalk. You’ll have to use your best judgment.

  “Tale…he’ll be there if he’s in town. And by now, I’m pretty sure he’s going to be there. That’s where Davis will be, and the boy you’re looking for. More than likely, they put Davis in the hold with the boy.”