Drawn Together

by Z. A. Maxfield

  “And now you’re the princess,” said Jenkins quietly.

  “He doesn’t want me. He can’t possibly love me. I seem to attract the crazies, don’t I?”

  “He’s not crazy, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You are the princess. Whatever that means. What do you plan to do now? Have you thought about it?”

  Yamane looked down at his left hand. “My instinct is to run. Not to Japan. Someplace I’d never go. Someplace she’d never look for me. An ostrich farm.”

  “Louisiana with your friend?” suggested Jenkins.

  “No. That’s too obvious, isn’t it? Of course she’d look there. I’m worried about Rory’s family. The boy has no resources. They just cut up a third of his clothes. I’m not sure what to do.” Yamane looked at Jenkins for a long time. “Really. I know someday she’ll kill me, but I don’t want it to be today.” He looked away.

  Jenkins muttered a curse under his breath. “Do you know how much I hate stalkers? I’m supposed to tell you that the authorities are going to handle it and everything will be all right if you just trust in the system to work.”

  “I see.”

  “But if you were my family? I would say run, arm yourself, kill that bitch, and find a hungry alligator so no one ever finds out.” Jenkins saw the uniformed officer who was guarding Yamane and motioned him over. “I think I’ll go see what I can do… I’ll keep in touch; check on Rory. His doctors said they were optimistic. Stay with this officer. He’ll be here if you need him. He’s got me on speed dial if you need me.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yamane, I really hope everything works out,” he said. Yamane watched him walk away. Jenkins was saying good-bye in case Yamane took his unofficial advice. Yamane asked at the ER desk if they had any information about Rory.

  “I haven’t heard anything yet, he’s in radiology now,” said one of the nurses. “I’m sure when he gets back someone will let you know.”

  Yamane turned away once again, hating the helplessness of waiting. He walked to his chair and sat back down. He saw the nurses laughing. Probably everybody had heard about the princess thing by now. At the very least, I am nobody’s princess. He got up and went back to the registration desk.

  “I wonder if you could please find me a rubber band,” he said to the woman behind it.

  A dark-haired boy with sullen eyes rolled Rory back from radiology. Big surprise. Three of his ribs were cracked. He wished someone would just give him something good for the pain already. He was ready to drink poison. Of all the ridiculous things, he had been singing in the hallway. So not cool. At least he’d live. The blood in his urine was from trauma to his kidneys, but after the CT scan, the doctor didn’t think it was serious enough to require more than pain medication and bed rest. Fortunately his ribs hadn’t splintered, shattered, or punctured anything. He had to at least be grateful for that.

  Rory needed a hot shower, a good night’s rest, and to get out of this miserable town. The more he thought about it, the more he knew it was the only way. He and Yamane were on Amelia’s playlist in this hospital. Posting a guard outside their door was just a big tease. They had to get ahead, stay ahead, and hope she got desperate, cocky, or both. She’d underestimated him once. Maybe she’d be dumb enough to do it twice. Rory vowed he’d never be anyone’s punching bag again.

  Once Rory was in his dreary little hospital room, the attendant transferred him painfully to the bed. He felt a hundred different kinds of angry. Just hearing the doctor list his injuries and the possible complications made him furious all over again, and when Rory thought of Yamane’s hand he was angry enough to kill something. A cold resolve hardened in his heart. If he ever had the chance, he wouldn’t hesitate to take out the woman who had harmed his friend.

  The door opened softly and Yamane walked in. The first thing Rory noticed was that Yamane’s hair was pulled into a nondescript ponytail at the nape of his neck. Rory didn’t know why that changed him so dramatically, but it did. Yamane looked grim. He entered without any greeting and came to stand beside Rory’s bed.

  “I am not a princess,” Yamane said flatly. “And I don’t need a puppy.”

  “Wait.” Rory tried to rise. “I am damn sick of you comparing me to a dog.”

  “I’m a thirty-one-year-old gay man,” continued Yamane, as if he hadn’t heard. He took off his coat and laid it over the arm of the chair by the bed. None of the buttons on his shirt or jeans were done.

  Rory raised his eyebrows.

  Yamane continued, “Fantasy time is over.” He removed his shirt. “Time to get real. I have no boobs. I’m not soft. I’m not weak.” He stood before Rory. Rory was surprised to see Yamane had an armband tattoo and another kanji character on his chest over his heart. He also had a nipple ring. That was unexpected. And kind of hot. Yamane leaned over until he was right in Rory’s face. “Being with me isn’t sweet and romantic. I like it messy, desperate, and sometimes even a little painful. You’re a good boy. You took a terrible beating because of me, but it stops now.”

  Rory digested this. He felt something unwind deep inside him. As if he were detached from it, he allowed it to uncoil slowly, building up a pressure of anger and frustration. “You know, you had better not call me a dog one more stinking time. I’ve been in bar fights with Girl Scouts who are tougher than you.”

  Yamane cursed.

  “I got the beat down of my life today. When I hit the water, it was so cold it felt good. I thought, ‘I’m just going to drown here; I won’t feel the pain anymore,’ and it sounded like a good idea. Then something brushed my hand and it reminded me of your hair. I am alive because of that one stupid, sentimental thing.

  “My kidneys are bleeding, my ribs are broken, and I’m loaded with painkillers. If you Google messy and desperate, you’ll find a picture of me.”

  Yamane seemed to waver under his direct stare. “Rory,” he warned.

  “I’m not a good boy.” Rory looked away. “And I’m nobody’s dog. While we’re being honest here, you should probably know that we’re going to run from that bitch, and when she comes after us, I’m hoping to find a way to kill her. You can come willingly, or you can find out what a real man with three broken ribs and no patience is capable of. Now, get the hell out of my sight.”

  Yamane got his clothes and stomped out without a word.

  It was fourteen hours later when Rory finally woke up. It took some time for his brain to put a name to the shapes he found in the darkness. After a while, he realized one of them was Yamane. He was sitting primly in the chair, his head propped on his good hand, sleeping.

  “Hey,” said Rory, loud enough in the quiet darkness to cause the other man to jump.

  Yamane moved his chair closer, saying nothing. After looking at it for some time, he managed to lower the guardrail using only his good hand. He leaned over, placing his injured hand on the pillow by Rory’s head.

  “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again,” said Rory. “You were such an angry princess.”

  Yamane flicked Rory on the side of the head. “I couldn’t just leave my faithful puppy behind. For all I knew, they’d put you down and I’d get stuck with the bill. Again.” He said this lightly, but Rory could imagine the pain behind those words. He took Yamane’s good hand in his before he really thought about it. “You slept through an entire day.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll find some clothes and we’ll get out of here.”

  “We’ll talk about that later.” They sat together in silence for a long, long time. “Yamane,” said Rory finally.

  “Hm, what?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about your nipple ring,” Rory teased. “It’s so hot.”

  “Shut up, will you?” Yamane turned away.

  “It’s not real, is it?”

  “Yes. It’s real.”

  “What about the tattoos? You drew those on with Magic Marker, right?”

  “No, I didn’t. They’re real too,” said Yamane tersely.

  “Ooh, you are suc
h a bad, bad man.”

  “Shut the hell up, Rory.”

  “Can I touch your nipple?”

  Yamane pushed the nurse’s Call button. “Can I help you?” said a disembodied voice.

  “The patient here is becoming agitated. Is there anything you can give him?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” the voice answered. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

  “Thank you,” Yamane replied.

  “Quick, before she comes, just let me see it, okay?” Rory lifted a hand to grab him. Yamane jerked back. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

  “Yamane?” said Rory. “What?”

  “Don’t ever try to bluff me. I promise you I never, ever lose a hand because of a bluff.”

  9

  Rory woke when Jenkins cleared his throat.

  He gently rubbed a spot on Yamane’s wrist where it lay next to his on the hospital bed, to wake him too.

  “Do you have news?” Rory asked.

  “Nothing about Amelia. We have a countrywide APB out on her, but she’s like smoke. Actually, I came to talk to you about something else.” He hesitated. “Rory, I got this idea, and I did some checking. Your car was impounded from the parking lot at the Anime Expo. There is no overnight parking, so the lot attendants had it towed.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better,” Rory muttered.

  “Actually, if you hear me out, I think that it’s a rather fine thing. When I met you I started wondering about your car, if you had one, and where it might be.”

  “So now you know I do. What about it?”

  “Well, I figured if I wondered, your stalker might wonder. That’s when I ran a check to see if any cars with Louisiana plates had been impounded. I imagined since you’ve been here for a couple of days without paying the lot fees, it was likely.”

  “So?”

  “My original thought was to make certain no one had tampered with the vehicle. A precaution in case Amelia was watching you as well. But being impounded gave me the perfect opportunity to have it checked. It’s fine; it checked out clean. No explosive or tracking devices.”

  Yamane spoke, pulling his coat around him as if he were cold. “What a thought. What happens now?”

  “Well, I thought I’d just put your belongings from the hotel in that car and offer it back to you with not-so-strictly-legal California license plates on it, because it isn’t likely she’ll be looking for that. Even if she does know your original plate numbers, they’re in my desk at the station, so I doubt they’d do her much good. I can send them back to New Orleans for you, but I’ve seen that car, and I think that when you get wherever you’re going you should just put a bullet in its engine block and put it out of its misery.”

  “I see.” Rory reached for the bed controls and raised his head up with a grimace. “I really do. What do you want us to do?”

  Jenkins sat down with a sigh. “I wonder if I really know what I want you to do. I know I don’t want you to die in my city. I can’t advise you to run, but I can make it easier for you to do it. If you were to, say, put on scrubs and lab coats, and go out with a shift change in the middle of the night, you could get into that car in the employee parking lot and be a long way away in a short amount of time. Especially if the hospital is willing to keep you on the patient boards and the uniformed officer guarding you remains sitting outside of your room until, say, the next day at five in the evening.”

  Yamane and Rory looked at each other. Yamane spoke first. “You can hardly move. You’re not well enough to drive across the street, much less go on the run from a psychopath.”

  “Do you have a valid driver’s license? Can you drive a car?” Rory asked.

  “Yes. But how can you possibly sit in a car for any length of time? I can’t bear the thought of you taking this on. All you did was ask for an autograph. Now you’re going to get killed because of me, and I can’t --”

  “It’s already too late for that kind of talk. I’m in it. Maybe you’ll find me useful; it could happen.”

  “You are such an idiot,” said Yamane.

  “Anyway, you need to think clearly,” said Jenkins. “Use cash, get pay as you go cell phones, and boost your Wi-Fi from hot spots in restaurants. Move constantly.”

  “Oh, you mean just live like normal.” Rory grinned.

  “I have a feeling this is going to be a lot easier for you than Yamane,” Jenkins admitted.

  “Hey,” Yamane snapped.

  “This would be better if you stood out less. Maybe you should cut your hair, Yamane.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Rory blushed to the roots of his own fiery hair. “He can hide it. I guess I could dye mine…”

  “Don’t you even think about it!”

  “What, you like it?” asked Rory, smiling stupidly.

  Yamane reddened. “I like it. I mean, well, not if it’s going to get you killed.”

  “That’s nice to know.”

  Jenkins interrupted. “Yeah? Look, if you’re going to have a moment here --”

  “Right,” said Rory. Crap, get a grip. “I was going to ask you if you thought it would be okay to go to Vegas. I wonder if they’ll think we’d naturally head south, toward home.”

  “Who knows what they’ll think? That’s how it is with the crazies. Wherever you finally end up, you have to contact the authorities and prepare for war. You can’t run forever. Just give yourself high ground to stand on.”

  “Okay, high ground,” said Rory. “That’s not exactly how I think of Vegas, but it’s a good place to start. I can rest up, and I have an acquaintance or two there. It’s a cash-based, no-tell-motel town anyway. I hate to make the princess do without, though.”

  Yamane slapped Rory’s arm with his good hand. “You just make sure the motel takes pets.”

  “Yamane, do you think you could get me a Coke?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

  When he was gone, Jenkins said, “I wanted to talk to you alone; this is good. Look, no matter what, we can always put Yamane on a plane back to Japan, you know that, right? You don’t have to take her on.”

  “I know he’ll have to face her alone then. That doesn’t feel like an option. Even if he does think I’m some sort of comic-reading retard.”

  “You’re tough and you’ve been through a lot. Anyway, I saw your car. It’s like a monument to emergency preparedness.”

  “Yeah, well, once bitten. I asked Yamane to leave because I wanted to tell you I have no cash. Just some headroom on a gas card.”

  Jenkins pulled out his wallet. “I figured that when I saw your car. I’ve got about a hundred and fifty here; it’s all I can spare right now.”

  Rory rolled his eyes as he accepted the cash. “I’m so sorry… Whatever happens, I’ll return the money to you if --”

  “Forget it. Don’t forget once you leave here, your cards are useless. They would just be a way to track your movements. Yamane should get what cash he can too… It’s not going to be easy until she’s apprehended.”

  “And it’s not going to be over till she’s dead,” said Rory grimly.

  Yamane came back with a soda. “It took me so long because your friend outside insisted on following me and checking every corridor out before we turned a corner. He’s very conscientious.”

  “He’s a good kid. Look, I feel like I have to ask you to just fly back to Japan. Here, we don’t know what she’s up to. They’ll stop her at the airport over there. She’d be arrested on the spot.”

  Yamane clenched his good hand. “In the meantime, she has her friends finish off Rory because he survived and pissed her off? No, thank you.”

  “Yamane, you don’t know she’ll do that, she only wants you.”

  “Four years ago, she had me. I was bound, gagged, and totally at her mercy. Then I made the stupid mistake of saying I hoped someone would remember to take care of my dog. She brought the dog to me and maimed it in front of my eyes.” He gripped the guardrail and put his head down on his hand as if to
block out the memory. “He was… I had to put him down myself. If you think she’ll leave something I care about alone, you’re very much mistaken.”

  Nobody spoke for a long, long time.

  “I’ll send in some clothes for you to wear and let you know where the car will be,” said Jenkins quietly. “Shift change is at two a.m.”

  In the eerily lit parking garage, Yamane and Rory found the car just where Jenkins said it would be. Their escape had gone better than Yamane expected. As men and women leaving the hospital in uniforms drifted toward the parking lot, Yamane and Rory simply walked among them. Yamane was wearing scrubs and an oversize hooded sweatshirt with a watch cap over his hair. Rory had on scrubs and a lab coat, with a surgeon’s flat cloth hat on his head. They each carried their messenger bags, which Jenkins had retrieved for them. Yamane had removed as much money in cash from his account as the bank would allow.

  Rory opened the driver’s-side door for Yamane and handed him the keys. Yamane stepped into the car and just as quickly rose up and out of it.

  “It smells in there.”

  “Yeah, well. It was under water for a while. Water tends to make things smell. It didn’t do much for how it works, either.”

  “But it’s going to make my hair and clothes smell like that too,” he argued, as if this were a perfectly obvious reason not to get in.