She peered inside to find a small metal case in it. Perfect.
She pulled the case out of the trunk. It was very heavy. The owner of this packs like I do. She slammed the door shut, pointed the keys at the car, and pressed the button to lock it.
It bleeped, and she heard the doors lock. She carried the case to room twenty-three, unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The room had two single beds in it with a bedside table separating them. There was a mahogany closet facing the door.
She closed the door behind her and peered out of the window that was next to it. Through the blinds, she could see her stolen car parked outside. There was no activity in the road. I’m safe now.
She pulled the thick burgundy curtains over the blinds to shut out the rest of the world and flipped on the light switch next to the door. She locked the door and left the key in the lock to ensure no one could get in with or without a key, and then she let out a sigh of relief.
She pulled the case over to the nearest bed and lifted it onto the bed. She tried to unfasten the clips on it, but it was locked.
After looking around for an object to pry it open with, she sighed and eventually gave up. She was tired, hungry and dirty. The case will have to wait. It doesn’t look like the kind of case that would hold clothes, anyway.
She sat down on the bed. The duvet had a burgundy cover that matched the curtains, and the bedding felt soft and new. The bed had a firm mattress and a mahogany headboard that matched the closet and bedside table. It’s a nice room for a motel.
There was a small bathroom a few feet away from the end of the bed. Through the open doorway that led to it, she saw a plain white sink and bathtub. She smiled. Perfect! That’s just what I need, a long soak in the tub.
She glanced down at her grubby cloak and clothes and then lifted the curtain aside to look out the window. There was a launderette across the road, beside the check-in office.
She got up and opened the door to her room. There weren’t any people around, and dusk was falling. She decisively crossed the street to the launderette and walked into it.
It was empty and eerily quiet. All the washing machines were turned off, and so were the lights.
“Hello?” Isabella called out. No one replied. She shivered. It felt like a dangerous place, and she didn’t know why.
Her original idea had been to wash her clothes, but there was no way in hell she was stripping in here.
Reluctant to go away empty-handed, she began opening the doors of the big dryers, looking for any scrap of clean clothing she could use. The last one had a pile of clothes in it. She grabbed it and shoved it into a nearby washing basket. The darkness of the room was starting to fray her last nerve. Why did I leave my room? Idiot!
She jumped at the loud bang of a car door outside, and then she froze in terror.
The door burst open, and a man walked in carrying a large hamper of clothes.
Her heart pounded and her body froze with irrational fear when he walked past her to one of the machines.
He paid no attention to her as she raced out of the launderette and back to her room. She slammed the door behind her, finding it hard to breathe as a panic attack took over her body.
She knew she needed to calm down, and there was nothing to worry about, but her body didn’t believe that.
She locked the door and slowly inhaled deep breaths. She needed to relax and to eat something.
Counting to ten, trying to make her pulse slow down, she closed her eyes for a moment. Once she felt calm enough, she walked over to the nightstand and picked up the motel phone. She ordered a pizza delivery for in an hour’s time, using one of the menus on the bedside table.
Her hands were still shaking when she put down the phone. She still didn’t feel safe. She wondered if she’d ever feel safe again.
She walked into the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face and peered in the mirror. Maybe a bath would calm her nerves. She turned on the hot water in the bath. When it was full, she climbed in and relaxed in the foamy water with a shaky sigh. It’ll be okay.
The warm water soothed her aching muscles, and her smooth green-skin became visible as she washed the dirt away.
She dunked her head under the water and floated in the calm silence for a few seconds. Then she raised her head above the water level and rubbed the soapy water out of her eyes.
She was still scared that they would find her. She jumped when there was a loud knock on the door.
She climbed out of the bathtub, wrapped a towel tightly around her, and went to the motel room door. Every step was an effort. She didn’t want to open the door for fear of what was on the other side of it.
She peeked through the peephole in the door to see who was there. It was a young man, wearing an ‘Al’s Pizza’ t-shirt. It’s the food you ordered. Calm down and eat it!
She gritted her teeth, unlocked the door, and warily opened it. “Uh, one sec, I’ll just get some money,” she said shakily to the delivery man. Then she rushed to the bedside table, snatching a few small notes off the top of it.
She handed the money to the delivery boy.
He looked quite bored by a woman dressed in only a towel, who was dashing around her motel room with wet hair. He handed her the pizza without a word and turned to leave.
“Thanks!” She called after him. He was already opening the door of his small car. She shut and locked the door. Then she inhaled the smell of the giant barbeque chicken pizza.
Her hair was dripping all over the carpet, so she put the pizza on the empty bed and rushed into the bathroom for a towel. She vigorously rubbed her hair dry, and then wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror.
She didn’t have a hairbrush, so she ran her fingers through her hair instead. Glancing in the mirror, she paused.
An angry purple bruise shone on her chin, spreading up to her left cheekbone. There were scratches on her face too. She glanced at her hand while it slowly combed through her hair. Dark red welts encircled her wrist, and her skin was rubbed raw where the ropes had been.
Despair threatened to ruin her dinner. She swallowed a lump in her throat and quickly left the bathroom. All the things she’d been through seemed unreal now that she was clean and safe in this room. But the reality of what had happened to her ripped through her, and she sank to the floor crying.
It didn’t feel real. In some weird way, she expected Bob to walk into the room and tell her it had all been an awful nightmare, but the cuts and bruises were real enough. She shook all over and cried her heart out.
Those things had happened to her. She had been enslaved, beaten and watched the man she loved die. All this time, she’d been holding it inside her, pushing away the fear and the terror of it all. Now, it burst to the surface.
The pizza went cold while she curled up on the floor and cried. The reality of what had happened to her finally sank in, and it wasn’t something she could wash away.
The next morning Isabella yawned and stretched when a bright beam of sunshine shone through a gap in the curtains. She was still wearing the towel from the night before, and it was damp, but at least she had managed to crawl into bed.
She climbed out of bed and rifled through the clothes basket to find something to wear. She must have stolen a man’s laundry. There were a couple of suits, some shirts, and a few pairs of socks. It’ll have to do.
Next, she grabbed a piece of cold pizza and took a bite out of it as she crossed the room to examine the metal case on the spare bed. She peered at the lock on the clasp while eating the slice of pizza. There was a small keyhole in the lock. But where is the key?
She sat back on the bed and peered around the room. There was a metal pole holding up the curtains.
She finished the pizza slice, then pulled a chair over to the window and stood on it to examine the pole more closely. It rested in three small brackets.
She lifted it off the brackets and brought it down with the curtains still on it. She removed the curtains an
d tested the pole. It felt sturdy enough. She couldn’t bend it. She wedged the pole through the padlock on the case and pushed hard against it to break the lock off. It took her a few minutes to manage it, but by repeatedly slamming her full body weight against the pole, she managed to snap the lock apart. She smiled and then opened the case.
The interior was lined with thick gray foam, and the items inside were set in their own individual inserts in the foam.
She widened her eyes at the contents. There was a large revolver with a separate silencer and quick loaders full of bullets. Beside it rested a large dagger with an unusual-shaped blade and a pair of knuckledusters that appeared to be encrusted with diamonds.
She touched the diamonds on the handle of the revolver. She’d seen enough of those precious stones in her day to recognize them as the real thing. These ones were high quality by the look of them with barely any flaws. These weapons had been custom-made and must have been very expensive.
She frowned, recalling the man she’d stolen the car from. There was no way he owned this suitcase, which meant whoever did probably also owned the car. They would be looking for their weapons and their money. She shivered. She wasn’t safe. They’d be looking for their car, too.
“Bitch!” A curvy girl in a tight, pink dress with aqua-blue hair elbowed Carla out of the way, as she stormed past her.
Carla blinked at her, feeling confused. What did I do? She paused dancing with Max and Bex on the crowded dance floor in the Paradise club, trying to understand why the girl with the aqua-blue hair was so angry with her.
“What was that about?” She shouted to Bex over the music.
“She’s just jealous because all the boys aren’t sniffing around her when you’re here,” Bex shouted back.
“You should show her who’s the queen of the dance floor,” Max added, with a wink.
“Oh yeah, how am I gonna do that, fisticuffs?” Carla laughed at the idea of a brawl.
Bex glanced across the dance floor at the girl. “She looks like a stuffed sausage in that dress.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Carla grinned. “It’s a crime against fashion to wear a dress that small and tight.”
“Exactly,” Bex shouted back. “It needs loosening, if you ask me.”
“Hold this for me.” Carla handed Bex her silver handbag and then smirked while she concentrated her powers on the dress, intending to create a rip in the back of it. She felt the power well up inside her, and she tried releasing a small amount of it toward the girl. Practice makes perfect.
The dress ripped in a long line up the back, and then shot off the girl in shredded pieces.
More practice required, she thought with a wry grin.
The girl shrieked and covered her underwear with her arms. People in the club pointed and laughed at her. The pink bra and a matching thong were an unfortunate choice of underwear, because they were too small for her, and the tight straps caused bulges of flab to hang out in all the wrong places.
The laughter in the club increased when the girl ran to the toilets, still trying to cover her unclothed body. Her ass wobbled when she ran, and Carla heard a guy next to her on the dance floor shout ‘Hurricane Hilda’ at the girl.
Carla and Bex shrieked with laughter. Max handed Carla a drink and joined them, chuckling.
Bex peered across toward the entrance of the club, and then she twirled her spiky hair. She put on some shiny lip gloss and blew a kiss at Carla.
“Back in a min, just getting a refill.” She wiggled her eyebrows and then disappeared into the crowds.
Carla smiled at Max, still laughing.
He winked and pulled her close to him. “Dance with me,” he whispered in her ear.
“Sure.” She was still laughing when he put his arms around her and started dancing a little bit too close. He must be as drunk as I am.
Parklon scowled across the dance floor when he saw Carla dancing with a slime-bag grinding against her. What’s she doing here with that guy?
He watched from the entrance of the Paradise club while Carla undulated seductively around the dance floor.
He knew she’d used her powers on that girl. He’d been watching her since the moment he first saw her here. His initial surprise at seeing her was beginning to wear off, but he was still confused about how she’d ended up in Zoola. She was supposed to be waiting for him in Derobmi, not Zoola. He had only come here tonight to find Bex and retrieve his apartment keys.
At first, he’d been happy to see Carla, and had intended to announce his presence when he saw her on the dance floor, but then he’d seen her attack that girl.
His narrowed his eyes to slits, and his scowl deepened. The longer he watched her, the angrier he got.
Questions filled his head. What is she doing here? Who’s that guy? What’s happened to her?
She didn’t look the same. Her face was plastered with too much make-up, her dress left little to the imagination, and she was clearly drunk. He watched her stumble when she spun around, straight into the other guy’s arms.
“You made it.” Bex appeared beside him and hugged him.
“Yeah.” Parklon hugged her back. “How have you been?” He kept his eyes trained on Carla while he spoke.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Here are your keys.” Bex pulled a set of keys out of her silver handbag and handed them to him.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on the place,” he said. She was a good friend.
“I let your friend stay there.” She pointed to Carla. “I hope that’s okay.”
Parklon watched Carla on the dance floor, and he smiled grimly. Now I’ll get to the bottom of this if she’s sleeping under my roof. “That’s perfect.”
“She’s a bit wild, huh?” Bex said.
“How so?” He was dying to grill Bex for more information.
“You know.” Bex winked at him. “Total party girl.”
No, I don’t know. He ground his teeth when the guy on the dance floor pulled Carla even closer.
“Is she?” he asked Bex while trying to look as innocent as possible in the hope she’d give him more information.
“Oh yeah—total guy magnet. I didn’t know Derobmis were so much fun,” Bex whispered in his ear. “I can barely keep up with her. I must be getting old. I’d be happy to snuggle up in front of the TV these days.” Her breath was hot on his neck, but he was too angry with Carla to pay attention to it. His focused was on Carla.
“I guess she’s changed since I knew her.” He was so angry with her right now, and so disappointed. What happened to the Carla I used to know?
“What’s she doing here?” he asked Bex.
“I think she’s just out to party,” Bex said. “She turned up at your office a few days ago, looking for a place to crash. She’d quit her job and decided to go on a bender, I guess. I wasn’t going to let her stay at your place, at first, but I remembered you said she was a really good friend. So I’ve been watching out for her since then, you know, making sure she doesn’t get in too much trouble. I hope I did the right thing?” Bex appeared concerned.
“Yeah, you did,” he said, and he dragged his eyes from Carla to glance at Bex. “Thanks, Bex.”
“It was the least I could do.” She smiled at him. “Anything for an old friend.” She bumped her hip against him.
He just nodded and turned back toward Carla. “Who’s the guy?” He stared at the guy Carla was dancing with and scowled.
“Oh, I dunno. He’s some dude who showed up. She goes through so many I can’t keep up.” Bex laughed.
“Like who?” He asked, snapping his head around to stare at her.
“Oh god, I can’t remember them all! There was the doorman.” She counted on her fingers. “A green guy from a band, oh, the ticket guy here. The list just goes on and on,” Bex said.
Parklon downed his pint in one long swig as the song came to an end. He hoped Carla would look across the dance floor and see him.
Eventually she did.
Their ey
es met across the crowded room, and she did a double take. She said something and broke away from the guy she was dancing with, and then she made her way over to him and Bex.
He’s here! Carla’s heart leapt against her chest. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Parklon, until she saw him standing at the edge of the dance floor. He looked amazing in a black shirt and jeans.
She pushed her way through the crowds with a bubble of happiness swelling up inside her as she drew closer to him. God I’ve missed him so much.
When she was close enough, she dashed over to him brimming with hope and happiness. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and hug him, but something in his expression stopped her.
She slowed when she drew closer and noticed his scowl. He’s not happy I’m here. Something deep in her chest ached and the bubble of happiness faded away. He didn’t miss me at all.
She put on a false smile. “Hey, stranger.” She patted him on the arm.
“Hey,” he said, but his voice was cold and abrupt.
Oh god, he hates me for being here. “How have you been?” she asked politely.
“Working hard.” His eyes were ice-cold.
“Yeah, so I heard.” She had waited to see him for so long, and now here she stood at a loss for words.
“Glad the job’s going well.” She inwardly groaned at how lame her comment was.
“What about you? I heard you quit.” He was frowning at her.
“Yep, it wasn’t the right place for me.” She held inside all the things that had happened to her. He doesn’t care anyway.
“And this is?” He gestured around the club.
“For now,” she said. She wasn’t going to tell him about her failures. He obviously didn’t care about her at all anymore.
She felt a big arm wrapping itself around her waist. Her heart sank when she heard Max's voice. Crap.
“Hey, babe, no fair leaving a guy on the dance floor like that.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” Parklon said coldly. “I need to talk to Bex and catch up.” He put his arm around Bex’s shoulder.
Science Fiction and Fantasy Box Set 1: The Squishies Series Page 29
