by G A Chase
“Yeah, well, they didn’t say anything about a person or animal not in possession of a Malveaux object.”
“Just shut up and keep looking. Maybe we should split up.”
“Not on your life. I don’t know how that little girl managed to keep a vicious animal in that apartment, but I’ve learned my lesson. We stick together.”
Kendell gripped Myles’s arm so hard he started losing feeling in his hand. “She’s okay. I’m going to go get her. Stay here. If they catch me, you’ll be my way out.”
“Are you crazy? I’m pretty sure those assholes have guns. Sounds to me like Cheesecake has this covered.”
She turned to him like he was the one who sounded insane. “She doesn’t know they won’t hurt her. Neither do we. I can sneak down there and find her before they do. She always knows when I’m around. She’ll find me.”
Myles grabbed her arm. “Leave me your phone in case I need to call for help.”
She gave him the familiar look he received from most of his ex-girlfriends. “Where’s yours?” But instead of waiting for the typical lame answer that it never fit in his jeans, she just shook her head and handed him her phone.
Even with his eyesight adjusted to the warehouse, Kendell in her black floor-length jacket appeared like a shadow darting from dark passageway to towering float. His heart beat faster as he searched for some sign of her. Great. Now I’ve lost both Kendell and her dog.
He stopped breathing at Cheesecake’s next set of barks. They weren’t the howls of anger but the welcoming yelps of seeing Kendell. Damn it, dog. Now you’ve put her in danger. Cheesecake’s change of mood also attracted the two men with flashlights.
Myles had Kendell’s phone out and was texting Polly Urethane, her most recent contact, before the beams of light converged between the floats so far away.
The conversation carried crisp and clear to his perch. “Okay, girl. Come on out from under that float. I see you, and I’ve got a gun. Bring your dog.”
His heart sank as he watched Kendell emerge into the beams of light holding Cheesecake in her arms. “You can have the damn pipe tool. I don’t even want it. Cheesecake will listen to me. I can keep her calm. She’s not going to do her business if she’s feeling threatened. All I’m asking is once you have your fucking tool back, let us go. I’m no threat to you. It’s not worth anything, and so far, no one’s been hurt.”
The men apparently had the same thought as one of them grabbed two Mardi Gras masks off the float. From his elevated position, Myles could see the two men whispering to each other while Kendell and Cheesecake stood in the bright beams of their flashlights. She wouldn’t have been able to see their faces.
“Are you alone?”
Of course not, you moron. A young woman’s just going to go chasing after the guy who stole her dog in the middle of the night all on her own? How stupid are you? Myles prayed they were exactly that stupid.
He could hear from Kendell’s tone that she too considered the question to be one of the dumber ones she’d heard, but she turned that judgmental attitude to her advantage. “Of course I’m alone. Who do you think would be up at this hour to drop everything and come looking with me?”
“The police maybe?”
Even the second thug thought that unlikely. “Think. If she’d called the police, she’d be the last person in this warehouse. We’d have been safe for days instead of hours if the authorities were in charge. She’s just some foolish girl who loves her dog. Her help might not be a bad idea.”
Thug number one tried to redeem himself as he addressed Kendell. “Don’t try anything stupid. We gave your hellhound a laxative, so hopefully, we can part company before morning.”
From Cheesecake’s continued barking and whining, Myles suspected she wasn’t on board with the negotiations. Kendell sat down in the middle of the corridor that ran the length of the warehouse and started singing to her dog. Cheesecake’s whimpering calmed down by the end of Kendell’s a capella rendition of “Bridge over Troubled Water.”
Between songs, Kendell walked Cheesecake up and down the warehouse to see if she was any closer to being free of the pipe tool. Myles had to admire her subtlety. Each time she sat back down, she’d moved a float or two closer to him. He still didn’t have a plan, but he had support. Polly and her crew had managed to sneak in and were strategically positioned on the neighboring floats—though Myles doubted any of them had anything to use against the thugs other than a killer riff.
As quietly as possible, he rummaged through the heavy vinyl bags filled with Mardi Gras throws, seeking something he could toss out to distract the thugs should the need arise. Most of what he found were plastic doubloons and the ever-present beads—the Krewe of Rex floats tended to specialize in lightweight baubles. Why couldn’t I have climbed onto a Zulu float? A nice case of coconuts would be perfect. Unzipping the next sack, he nearly threw down the bag of plush animals in disgust.
Having gotten a good idea of what lay in the bags, Myles progressed halfway down the float to a stack of cardboard boxes. Cups. Great. I can offer to get them all drinks. That should be helpful. He closed his eyes tight to fight back the frustration. As if the corralling of his mental energy had summoned what he needed, he opened the next box. His heart beat with increased adrenaline as he picked up the white plastic Frisbee embossed with the Rex emblem. This is more like it. Keeping low to avoid any possibility of being seen in the darkness, he hauled the box to the front of the float and set it next to the sacks of beads still tightly packed in their smaller plastic bags.
The thugs might always honor the agreement, though that wasn’t a hope he dared rely on. Kendell might not have seen their faces, but she’d heard their voices and knew where they worked. The strongest case in her favor was the one the thug himself had come up with. So long as the only crime was the theft of a meaningless piece of crap, the police probably wouldn’t even care—especially if the dognapped animal had been returned.
The assailants kept a healthy distance from Cheesecake, who continued to growl at the men in her low-pitched vibrato anytime Kendell’s singing diminished. But after an hour, which felt more like ten, the dog grew tired of keeping up the threats. No sooner did Kendell set her down after the latest serenade of “I’ve Got You Babe” than the dog headed straight toward Myles. She only made it halfway before taking up the familiar squat position. Two flashlight beams converged on Cheesecake’s behind. Myles felt bad for the dog. No one, not even an animal, would want to be so closely observed as they took a dump.
He couldn’t remember ever waiting so impatiently for a dog to take a shit.
Thug number one said to his compatriot, “Go pick it up.”
“Fuck you. It’s her dog. She can get it.”
One of the light beams dropped to the man’s feet. “I’m not risking her throwing voodoo-doggie doo-doo at me. We both know the stories of the Malveaux objects. Do you really want your obituary to read ‘He died covered in dog shit’?”
“Fine, I’ll do it. But she’s got to move that animal first. I’m not getting my arm bit off picking up dog crap.”
Myles waited until Kendell had backed as far as she dared from the two thugs. One still held his gun on her as she once again held Cheesecake in her arms. The other bent down to pick up the poo with an empty bead bag. The instant Myles hit Send on Kendell’s phone, four bright beams of light from the floats around him hit the two abductors. But momentary blindness was only the first of the two men’s problems.
Myles flung the Mardi Gras Frisbee as hard as he could toward the ground between him and the gunman. It ricocheted off the cement floor and caught the man in the wrist. The gun went flying under one of the floats without ever getting off a shot. The next flying disk, however, sailed clear over the other abductor’s head. Myles knew he had to calm down. Even in college, his nerves tended to get the better of him, messing up his aim, when he played on the disc golf team.
From behind the bright flashlights, Polly and the Stripper
s started throwing tightly packed bags of beads. Some burst open on the floor like fireworks, releasing brightly colored plastic beads and strands. Others beaned the men directly on their heads. The man bent over Cheesecake’s poop barely scooped it up before being pummeled so hard he risked succumbing to the death by dog poop his compatriot had worried about.
From the float closest to Myles, a colorful decorated shoe from the Krewe of Muses struck the thief Myles had disarmed, hitting him in the head. As the man leaned back in shock his feet slipped on the growing layer of loose beads that had broken loose from the flimsy strands.
Even during a parade, gently lobbed strings of beads didn’t always hold together. And often the drunk people demanding to be thrown something had to cover their heads from the onslaught. But used as projectiles thrown in anger, the small plastic beads and medallions proved more effective than Myles would have suspected.
“Have you got all the shit yet? We need to get the hell out of here.” The thug farthest from Myles was still having trouble getting off the cement floor due to the beads. So long as he didn’t go for the gun that had been lost under the float, his flight instinct would hopefully win out over the impulse to counterattack.
“Don’t yell at me. I’ve got this damn dog shit all over my hands.”
“Leave the shit. Just grab the pipe tool.” As the abductor finally made it to his feet another colorfully decorated high-heeled shoe struck him in the seat of this pants.
“Got it.” The thug closest to Myles had suffered the worst of the two. Beads of yellow, green, and purple were embedded in the brown slop that covered his arms and hands. He crawled away from the constant bombardment of brightly colored mementoes of revelry until he found a bare section of cement floor. Then he got to his feet and ran after his compatriot. Both men continued to slip on the plastic beads that worked like ball bearings on the cement floor.
Polly Urethane and the Strippers—being hopped up on adrenaline from their success—screamed taunts after the men as they made a run for it. Cheesecake’s barks of hatred as she was once again safely in Kendell’s arms made it clear she favored the band’s idea of pursuit.
Myles let loose an ear-piercing whistle. “Let’s get out of here. There’s no point in putting ourselves in more danger.”
The question of why someone would want the pipe tool enough to try and steal it—or worse, kidnap a dog over it—still plagued Myles. But getting Kendell and Cheesecake home safely won out over pursuing the thugs for answers.
7
Safely outside the warehouse, Kendell gave huge hugs to each of her bandmates. “I can’t believe you guys came out to help me without even considering the danger. You can’t imagine what this means to me. Band members for life!”
The others raised their fists along with Kendell in reply. “Band members for life!”
Myles too experienced the giddy adrenaline rush, but there were still practical matters to consider. He pulled out Kendell’s phone. “We should call the cops.”
She reached for his arm. “And tell them what? Some guys stole a fifty-dollar pipe tool from us? They held guns on us while we were trespassing in the warehouse? Even what we think we know isn’t going to help sway the authorities to our side. I’ve got Cheesecake back, and that’s all that matters.”
He knew she was probably right. The most likely outcome of calling in the authorities was they’d all be thrown in jail for breaking and entering. Then all the dognapper would have to do was say the dog went crazy biting him, and poor Cheesecake would be in real trouble.
Minerva pulled out the keys to her van. “Well, if we’re not going after those assholes, and we’re not waiting around for the cops, I guess we’d better get out of here before they wise up and realize bullets are stronger than beads. Can we give you a ride home?”
Kendell snuggled to his side. “We’ll be all right on the scooter.”
Polly looked over at the small yellow Vespa. “You sure? The two of you plus Cheesecake is going to be a tight fit. Your dog still looks pretty agitated.”
Though still growling and whining at everyone else, Cheesecake nuzzled Myles’s arm before lifting her head to lick his face. Kendell smiled up at him. “We’ll manage. I’ll give you girls a call when we get home. It’d hardly do for me to leave my knight in shining armor after he came to my rescue.”
The band waited until he’d gotten the scooter started before climbing into the old VW. Kendell was still holding Cheesecake in her arms as she squeezed onto the back of the small seat. The motorbike swung side to side as he gunned the engine to build up enough speed for stability. As he turned onto the main road, he heard Minerva’s van start up.
The ride back to Kendell’s apartment proved more harrowing than he had expected. Between the small tires that found every pothole and the dog in Kendell’s arms who, though rescued, seemed to still harbor feelings of hostility, he was having one hell of a time keeping the Vespa upright. “Is she okay back there?”
With only one of Kendell’s hands on his side, the prospect of losing her off the back wasn’t helping with his driving. “Just get us home.”
What do you think I’m doing—going for some demented joyride? Myles stifled his frustration. It’d been a long night, and he knew his emotions were on edge as the adrenaline slowly wore off.
Though it was only a mile or two from the warehouse to Kendell’s apartment, by the time he parked the small Vespa, both his passengers were about to fall asleep. “You two will want to get some rest. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Kendell flung Cheesecake over her shoulder so she could grasp Myles’s arm. “Please don’t go. I’d feel better if you came upstairs. I know it’s late, but I’d appreciate the company. Or you can just sleep on the couch if you’re tired.”
He mentally kicked himself for being so dense. Of course she wouldn’t want to be alone after having her apartment burglarized and her dog stolen. “I’d be happy to stay.” The dark, narrow stairway would have been frightening enough without the evening’s events. He took the keys from her trembling hand. “Let me go up first and make sure everything’s okay. I can’t imagine they’d come back as they got what they wanted. All the same, I’d feel better if you waited out here in the light for a moment.”
“Thank you.”
It might have been the desire for a shameless display of gallantry, or maybe it was just the experience of coming to her rescue, but he almost hoped there was someone on the other side of the paint-chipped door. His heart beat faster as he swung it open. There was no one waiting to pounce on him. He turned on every light he encountered as he walked through the small apartment. The furniture was still in disarray, but as he worked his way to the still-open window, he straightened what he could of the crime scene. The last thing Kendell would want to see was a reminder of her terror. He leaned over the balcony. “It’s safe.”
She didn’t put the dog down until she’d looked in every corner of the small apartment. He feared it’d be days before either she or her dog felt completely safe in their own home.
Cheesecake was calmer, having passed the pipe tool, but completely drained. She reminded him of someone who’d spent three days on a bender and was suffering the consequences. He scratched her ears as she lay on the couch next to him.
Kendell brought out a bottle of Chardonnay and a couple of glasses. “I need a drink. For once, I wished I kept hard alcohol in the apartment. Hope you don’t mind white wine.”
It wasn’t his favorite. Wine in general seemed like something that should only be drunk during family get-togethers, but he’d take damn near anything that would put his heart back on an even rhythm. “I’ll pour. You still look a little shaky.”
Her laugh as she looked at her quivering hands betrayed her state of delayed shock. “Guess I’m not as much of a badass as I’d like to pretend.”
He filled the drinking glasses, giving her twice what he’d normally serve a patron ordering wine. “Don’t sell yourself short. You stood
your ground against those thugs. Anyone would be scared shitless having a gun pointed at them. I was amazed at how you were able to sing so calmly to Cheesecake during the ordeal.”
She took a good long drink before setting the glass down. “She was scared and angry. She’s always known what I was feeling. If I’m mad, she’ll stay close to me but give me my space. When a relationship has ended, she’ll lie next to me and won’t take her head off my leg. I guess maybe I understand her too. But whatever she was feeling, it wasn’t just the normal emotions. There was something in how she growled, something primal. As I sang to her, I could feel that wild instinct subside. But as soon as I’d finish a song, I could tell that untamed reaction was returning. It was like she was possessed or something. I wouldn’t say this to anyone but you. And then only because we’re trying to figure out this weird ability you have to read past energy. It sounded like those abductors were talking about a curse or something. With the way Cheesecake acted all strange after she swallowed the thing, it makes me wonder.”
Myles shook his head. “You think some witch put a curse on that silly little pipe tool? I could understand what the professor was trying to say in that weird class. Psychometry isn’t science, but it’s close enough that I can see how one day it could be. But curses, witches, voodoo—those all sound too much like stories that are used to sell walking tours.”
The topic of conversation wasn’t what he’d have chosen, but anything to distract her from the night’s adventure could only help.
As she talked and drank her wine, her hands stopped shaking. Maybe having him to argue with gave her a direction for all that pent-up energy. “Why is it so hard for you to see the next step? First we accept that human energy can be left behind in a physical object. Then we observe that people like you can experience that energy. So far, intense emotions, like fear, are easiest for you to read. The next step is so obvious. Someone—a witch or a voodoo priestess or whatever—figures out how to intentionally load up an object with human energy. You said it yourself. That pipe tool gave you a headache. What if that feeling is the result of some curse?”
