by B.A. Savage
Chapter Five
Betty Jean is now nine years old. She’s sits bored in her room looking into her dresser mirror. It’s been about a week since she’s been at school. She checks to see how much it has faded. “It” is why she hasn’t been to school, “it” is a black eye. It is the first time Mark has hit her. The bruise is barely visible now but the same can’t be said about the fear. Betty hasn’t eaten much lately and has had a tough time sleeping since that evening. She has been faking sleep when her mother checked in on her at night. Part out of not wanting to be a burden, part because she’s scared that if her mother is with her too long Mark will get angry. She doesn’t like it when Mark is angry.
It’s almost time for Mark to get home from work, but today was and is going to be different. Today Mark came home for his lunch and assaulted Betty’s mother because he blamed her for his horrible rest the night prior because she kept getting up.
Betty goes downstairs to find her mother sitting in a chair, sporting a fresh new shiner, along with a fading bruise on her forehead. Betty looks at her and barely recognizes her. Each day around this time, her hair is nicely done and she’s dressed in something Mark picked out before he went to work that morning.
Today she is a total mess. Her hair is ratted and she’s sitting in her green robe staring at a wall. She didn’t even notice Betty Jean standing next to her until she called out to her.
In a monotone voice, “Yes, dear.”
“You okay momma?”
“I will be and you will be too.”
Betty doesn’t understand what her mother means but before she can ask, both females tense up from fear when they hear the music blaring from the vehicle in the driveway.
“Betty, dear, I need you to go to your room.”
Sensing something’s not right and the mounting fear, Betty pleads to her mother, “But momma!”
“Betty. Go to your room dear. Everything will be okay.”
Betty Jean heads up the stairs but stops at the top of the stairwell and out of sight. Mark comes in. He tosses his coat over the chair by the door and on his way to the kitchen he notices his battered wife sitting in living room recliner. “Why aren’t you in the kitchen? Is dinner already done?”
In an emotionless voice, “No, Mark, it’s not.”
He can’t believe his ears, he thinks, “How could she be so stupid?” He yells, “You fucking didn’t cook? And you sit around all day and do nothing but look like shit?”
She says nothing. She starts trembling and her eyes fill with tears.
“You fucking lazy whore! I thought I beat some sense into you earlier. How many times do I have to beat your ignorant ass?”
As Mark approaches, he crossed an imaginary line that she had envisioned in her mind. She stands up and points a gun that she had hidden in her robe. “Today was the last time you put your damn hands on either of us!”
With that burst of emotion that Mark had never seen from her, shocked is not a strong enough word to describe how Mark felt as he stared at the gun aimed at his midsection. Realizing that the tables have turned on this one-sided, almost daily ass beating, Mark begs, “Please honey. Put that thing down before someone gets hurt.”
“Like you Mark? You mean finally you are the one hurt?”
Betty who’s still hiding on the stairs, grips the railing. She’s scared. She can’t see them directly but once again she watches the drama unfold as mere shadows on a wall.
Alternating between looking at the gun and the eyes of the women he’s pushed over the edge, Mark slowly edges toward her. He says calmly, “C’mon baby, give me the gun. I didn’t know things were this serious. We can sit down and discuss this like adults right? I can change.”
“Really?”
She doesn’t want to hurt anyone, it can be seen in her eyes. She believes him and starts to lower the gun slowly.
“Yes baby. We just need to talk about it, that’s all.”
He feels that this is his best chance to take the gun away since he’s edged within three feet of her. While it appears that she is thinking about his proposal, he lunges and tries to take the gun by force. This lunge has brought her back to reality. The reality that Mark is a lying asshole. They fight for control of the gun.
“Give me the gun you stupid bitch!”
“No!”
During the struggle the gun goes off.
“BANG!”
Betty Jean jumps and her eyes are wide open, yet the fear of the worse has her frozen. Mark and his wife stand in close embrace until she falls to the ground.
“Lynn!”
Betty’s tears flow like streams when the ice melts. She is shaking uncontrollably.
Mark is beside himself. He drops to the floor right next to his wounded wife as she gasps for life. He lifts her head. Her eyes are open and staring at him. She spits out blood. He pleads, “Lynn don’t die! Damn it! Look what you did! Why did you bring a fucking gun into the house? What were you thinking?”
Betty has not blinked or moved as she stares at the shadows of her parents.
“Silent but deadly. I heard those usually stink the most.”
On top of another Katsuya Corporation building which is housing the next target, Shadow awakens from her daydream to find a man in a trench coat and Stetson hat standing about fifteen feet away.
“Why do I even waste my time coming up with these great one liners if the common crook never seems to get it?” Century said.
Century now has Shadow’s undivided attention as she raises from a crouched position. He looks at her and thinks, “Pretty good body for being out of work for almost ten years.”
Shadow in her skin-tight black body suit starts to circle him, challenging him to hand to hand combat. He starts to inspect her from head to toe, checking for weapons. He notices that her outfit has been stitched up in numerous places as if she had been in some ferocious battles. Inch long gashes have been hand repaired and even her face veil has the part under her nose removed, revealing voluptuous lips.
“Wherever you’ve been for those years, I can tell it was none too pleasant.” He starts to circle too.
Shadow charges him sending several fast punches at Century, most of which he dodges. One gets through but doesn’t seem to bother him. He catches each of her wrists with his grasp as she punches at him again. As he holds both wrists, he thinks, “This was way too easy.”
Still in close quarters with him, Shadow steps on his knee forcing him to bend. She uses this for leverage and does a flip kick out to his chin sending him flying several feet and landing on his rump. She lands on both feet.
“What in the world was that? A person would have to dislocate their shoulders to do that.”
Century stands up. Shadow had turned and started to walk off. He yells, “I don’t know who you are used to tangling with, but I’m not a one-pump chump.”
She turns around and starts walking toward him. He heads toward her. They start exchanging blows again with neither landing one. He grabs her wrist again but this time before she can react he does the same flip kick she just did to him. He sent her higher in the air and farther away than she sent him. She lands in a cat-like position on all fours.
“Like that didn’t you?” Century said with a smile.
She stands up and charges him. They start fighting again, neither still able to land a solid blow, but Century manages to bait her into letting him grab her by the wrist again. This time he pulls her close to him, eliminating room for a counterstrike.
“I prefer to dance close, it’s more intimate don’t you agree?”
She looks down at her feet then back up at him. They are face to face. She smiles. This catches Century completely off guard. “A smile? I thought she didn’t...” Century is unable to finish this thought.
Shadow had clicked her heels three times and a flash has emitted from her body. The clicking activated the suit’s electrical defense devi
ce, sending thousands of volts of electricity over the outside of the suit. This surge sends Century through the air and over the edge of the roof.
Century thinks as he free falls, “What just happened?”
His twenty-story descent finally stops when he landed on the top of a car parked outside. The impact shattered all the windows of the car and caved in the roof. Immediately Century jumps up and runs back inside the building. Once inside the night security guard, who hasn’t been able to grasp what he just saw, stands speechless.
Century decides to pass up the one-liner he was going to use on the slack-jawed guard. Century instead heads to the stairs and makes it up to the fifteenth floor without breaking stride. Once on the floor, he runs to room S-67, the door is opened. Century steps inside and finds two dead bodyguards, along with the decapitated body of Mr. Kamai Zukayo.
“Damn it.”
He heads back out into the hallway. “Looks like Kats and me are going to have a very informing talk.”
