Arch Enemy

by Leo J. Maloney

  Roger Baxter.

  “Oh, no.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Scott said.

  She stood up. “I know that answering the phone at dinner is most gauche thing you can do, but, I really need to get this.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She accepted the call as she walked to a niche near the door.

  “Roger?” she said, keeping her voice down so that Scott wouldn’t hear.

  “I want you.” His voice was husky. Dominating.

  “Now?”

  “This instant.”

  “Maybe I’m busy,” she said, trying to deflect with flirtation, hoping to put it off just enough to finish dinner with Scott.

  “Not for me, you’re not. Twenty minutes. The Peninsula.” And he hung up. Classic negotiating tactic, not giving her a chance to respond. There’d be no backing out now. Miss this one and she might lose him for good.

  At least she was dressed for it.

  She looked at Scott, sipping his wine at the table, and cursed Baxter, her job, and the world. She walked back, a look of apology plastered on her face. He stood as she came near.

  “Bad news?”

  “I’m so, so sorry, but something came up,” Lily said apologetically.

  “Right,” he said. “Was it me? Did I say something wrong?”

  “No—Scott, it doesn’t have anything to do with you. I was having a lovely time. I just really need to go. Work stuff. I can pay for my half of dinner.”

  “Oh no, don’t worry about that,” he said, waving her off. But he was, of course, more bothered than he wanted to let on.

  “Look, I’ll call you, okay?”

  “Yikes. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten ‘I’ll call you.’”

  She was losing him. They’d formed some kind of connection, and now all she saw in his face was a wall. “It’s not a line,” she said. “I really will.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I’m sure you will.”

  There was something now or never about that moment, and she decided to go with it. She leaned in and kissed him. “That,” she said, “was a promise.”

  He grinned in astonishment. “Okay,” he said, starry-eyed. “I guess you convinced me.”

  She walked away, leaving a piece of herself behind. At least she left him with a smile.

  Chapter 27

  “How about we . . . ?” Alex extended the monosyllable in an effort to buy time. “Oh! Here’s something! Use of expired food in the dining halls!”

  She threw a Nerf ball against the wall of Simon’s room and caught it again. Her butt was aching from sitting in the same position for so long, but she had vowed not to move until they came up with one good idea to impress the Ekklesia.

  “Bo-ring,” said Simon.

  “Shut up,” she said. “This is a brainstorm. You’re not allowed to criticize anything during a brainstorm!”

  “All right, I’ll put it on the list,” he said, with a total lack of enthusiasm.

  The ball sailed over her hands. Simon, the long-suffering, got up with a groan and picked it up. He threw it against the wall so that its arc brought it within Alex’s reach.

  “Nice,” she said. “So what have we got so far? Read it back to me.”

  “People selling course papers and old tests, dining room theft, underage drinking, and now expired food.”

  Alex emitted a long, frustrated groan. “Pathetic.” She hit the ball against the wall, and again it sailed over her head and landed by the door. When Simon leaned over to get it, the door swung open and clocked him on the head.

  It was Katie, going full throttle. “Party tonight at Phi Epsilon,” she said, looking at Alex with the eyes of a crazed Chihuahua.

  “On a Monday?”

  “It’s their famous Midwinter Bash. It’s legendary!”

  “Don’t you say that about a party at least once a week?” said Simon.

  “They’re all legendary,” she said.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to step all over your rationalization for partying every night.”

  “Well, regardless, you’re coming,” Katie said, pulling Alex’s arm. “I can’t stand your moping anymore.”

  “I’ve got better things to do,” she said.

  “What, stare at the wall with General Revelry here? No offense,” she added, for Simon’s benefit.

  “None taken.”

  “I hate those parties,” said Alex. “Everyone just wants to drink, and you can’t hear a word anyone says.”

  “But you can dance!” said Katie. “I mean, in general, not you specifically. But you can sway, right? Can you sway?”

  “Katie . . .”

  “Come onnn,” said Katie. Her pleading gaze found a new target. “Simon, you want to come, right?”

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get out a bit,” he said, nudging Alex.

  “Maybe Devin will be there,” said Katie, half-singing.

  “On second thought—”

  “You know what?” Alex said. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Oh, you wanna see Devin?” asked Katie.

  “What? No,” said Alex. “I’m just tired of staying in. Let’s hit it.”

  “Yeah, we could go,” said Simon. He pulled on a flannel button-down over his T-shirt.

  “You’re going like that?” said Katie.

  Alex looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a faded yellow T-shirt, rumpled. There might have been a food stain.

  “Grab me a hoodie?”

  Katie shrugged. “If you want to go looking like a bum, there’s nothing I can do about it.” She went to the room to get the hoodie.

  They took a campus transit bus to Fraternity Row. The night outside was quiet and peaceful, with the magical stillness of winter nights that feel like being in a snow globe.

  As they neared the Phi Epsilon house, the song “Get Low” filled the still air. “To the window, to the wall,” came the lyrics. “To the sweat drop down my balls.”

  “I’m so pumped!” said Katie. “Aren’t you so pumped?”

  “Woo,” Alex deadpanned.

  Simon helped Alex up the steps of the porch and they walked inside. The heavy bass and beats of the music, the body heat, and the smell of fresh beer over stale beer hit them all at the same time.

  “I already regret this,” said Alex.

  Katie didn’t hear her over the “Wooo!” she was howling.

  It took about thirty seconds of their being there for one of the brothers to come up to Alex, red Solo cups in hand. “Beer?”

  “I think I’ll just have some water.” The guy laughed and pushed the cup of beer into her hand. She found a table and rearranged the cups already there to find a corner for hers, which she abandoned to go check out the rest of the party. She peeked into a room that had a beer pong table, where they were playing doubles and a large and loud crowd was cheering every toss.

  The main living room was what might be called the dance floor. The music was deafening. This is where she found Katie, grinding on some guy Alex didn’t know and guessed Katie probably didn’t, either.

  When she turned her back to the dance floor, someone put another beer in her hand. She motioned to Simon, who’d been standing nearby, to follow her. She navigated her crutches through the crowded party until they reached the porch outside. The cold was refreshing after the stuffy heat of the inside.

  “Jeez, can’t hear myself think in there,” said Alex. She poured her beer over the railing into a snowbank.

  Simon leaned his back against the railing next to her.

  “Why do we come to these parties?” said Alex.

  “Something to do? I don’t know. You’re the one who wanted to come.”

  “Well, I’m over it,” she said.

  “I was over it before we got here.”

  “It’s decided then. I’m going to go find Katie and tell her we’re going.”

  Alex looked on the dance floor first, but couldn’t make out Katie in the strobe-lit mass of writh
ing bodies. She checked the line for beer, and then the beer pong room. No Katie.

  Giving up Alex squeezed through the crowd to the foyer, where she caught sight of Katie. She was stumbling, holding onto the banister of the staircase. A large frat brother, a football player type, was practically holding her up, leading her upstairs.

  She did her crutch-walk over to where the guy had just started his ascent—Katie was not quite getting the concept of stairs in her condition.

  Alex pulled on the frat guy’s arm. “Hey! She looks nearly unconscious!”

  He turned his head to look at Alex and offered her an expression that told her she was lower than dirt to him. “Screw off!”

  She pulled on Katie’s arm. “Hey!” She was unresponsive.

  “She’s with me,” said the guy. “All right?”

  “What’s her name then?”

  “What?”

  “If she’s with you, then what’s her name?” Alex asked.

  “It’s Debbie, all right? Now get lost!”

  Alex held on to Katie’s arm and set her jaw in determination. “Let her go or I call the police!”

  “What’s going on?” It was another very large guy, a frat brother, chest out, muscles tense.

  “This bitch is on my case.”

  “Look at her!” said Alex. “She’s practically unconscious!”

  “I think it’s time for you to go home,” the newcomer said, grabbing Alex’s shoulders.

  “Do not touch me!” she said, flinching.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” It was Simon.

  “Simon, call the police.”

  “Simon, get your skinny ass out of our house,” said brother number two.

  Simon stepped forward, looking him straight in the eye. “What’re you going to do? Beat me up? Let the girl go or I’m getting the police involved.”

  Alex saw the meathead running the calculus in his brain. Yes, he could flatten Simon. But there were witnesses. There was a boundary here he was not ready to cross.

  “Whatever,” he said, scoffing. “Take her. I’m over it.”

  Simon slid his right arm under Katie’s armpits to support her weight. She clung to him, her irises rolled up into her eyelids.

  “Now get out of our house.”

  Alex helped however she could, but it was slow going with her on crutches. The brothers watched the entire time. As soon as they had cleared the door, Alex pulled out her phone and dialed 911.

  “My friend’s almost passed out,” she said. “I think she had too much to drink. I need an ambulance. Fraternity Row, number twelve.”

  They found a bench by the street and Simon eased Katie onto it. Music still blasted from the inside, muffled. Simon sat, looking at the ground. Alex rubbed her hands together and her breath misted in front of her. The night lost whatever picturesque magic it had before. All it was now was cold and cruel.

  Katie was mumbling.

  “Katie?” said Alex. “Are you okay? Can you understand me?”

  She stirred, but her eyes still showed only the whites.

  “We’re going to get you help, okay?”

  The cold chilled Alex to her bones.

  The ambulance arrived ten minutes later. Alex stood and waved as it came to a stop by the curbside. Two EMTs came out.

  “I’m the one who called. This is my friend here.”

  “What’d she have?” asked one of them, while the other examined Katie. They were both young, not much older than Alex.

  “I have no idea.”

  “She’s lucky you were there.” They pulled out the gurney from the back of the ambulance and set to work getting Katie on it. Alex watched as they loaded her in.

  “Can I go with her?” asked Alex.

  “Are you family?” one of the EMTs asked.

  “I’m her roommate.”

  “Then no, sorry. But don’t worry. Her parents will be notified.” The EMT closed the ambulance door. It took off toward the health center, lights flashing, leaving Alex and Simon behind in the freezing night.

  Chapter 28

  Morgan and Yolande trekked through the jungle in darkness, ferns whipping their faces, each step slow and tentative. An ankle injury out here could be just as deadly as a bullet. The music of the insects was now and again interrupted by the screech of monkeys and birds. It was hot and humid, and the sweat that drenched their clothes was not enough to keep the mosquitoes from biting.

  They had no water, and Morgan had no idea where they were going. If Yolande did, she wasn’t sharing.

  “How much longer, you think?” he asked as the first tendrils of light were emerging from the horizon.

  “Stop complaining, you pussy. There is a road right up ahead.” She mumbled under her breath in French about wanting a damn cigarette.

  It was sunrise by the time they came upon the muddy dirt road. Morgan couldn’t swear it wasn’t the same one they left behind, although Yolande seemed certain it was a different one.

  They walked along it toward the northwest until they heard a car approaching from around a bend.

  “Hide,” Yolande told him pointing to a thick tree by the roadside.

  “You don’t have a gun.”

  “If I need you, I will call you,” she said. “Now hide.”

  Morgan hid flat against the tree as the car came closer. He listened as it slowed down and came to a full stop next to Yolande, the motor idling. He heard the voice of a man, who held a conversation with Yolande in French.

  After about a minute, Yolande said, “Okay. You can come out.”

  The vehicle was a Ford pickup truck from the 1990s, dented and scratched and caked in mud. The driver was a half-bald guy with missing teeth in a ratty short-sleeve button-down shirt open to below the chest.

  “His name is Henri,” said Yolande. “He will give us a ride.”

  “How nice of him.”

  “Not exactly. Give me your watch.”

  Morgan rolled his eyes, but undid the clasp on his TAG Heuer and put it in Yolande’s hand. She handed it over to Henri, who inspected it with a broad grin.

  “Which way are we going?” Morgan asked. It hadn’t occurred to him to discuss this sooner. He assumed Yolande would want to return to Abidjan.

  “After the trucks, of course,” she said, opening the passenger side door.

  “We have no guns. No equipment.”

  She puffed up her chest, the long diagonal scar prominent on her brown skin. She was sweaty, exhausted, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “We have a mission.”

  “It’s not yours.”

  “Shut up. I don’t chicken out at the first sign of trouble. Now come on, stupid. Get in the back.”

  Morgan hoisted himself onto the truck bed where Henri was transporting a number of wooden-handled farm implements. They rattled as the truck set off along the uneven road, deeper into the country, toward Madaki and Mr. White.

  Chapter 29

  Doctor Schuffman walked into the office and patted Alex on the cast in his avuncular manner. “Everything looks good here,” he said. “Relatively speaking. Got any pain, other than the pain in the ass of having to walk around in this cast?”

  “Har har,” said Alex. “No, no pain, no discomfort. Just kind of itchy.” She scrunched up her nose. “And it smells kind of bad.”

  “Well, that’s to be expected,” the doctor said with a chuckle. “Just a couple more weeks now. Ready to finally be rid of this thing?”

  “You have no idea how ready I am.”

  “Not much writing on it, I see” he said.

  “I haven’t been getting out much.”

  “Well, I guess we’re all set. Want a lollipop?” He pulled one out from his coat pocket.

  “I’m good, Dr. Schuffman, thanks.”

  “Good,” he said, sticking it in his mouth. “That was my lunch!”

  “How long have you been holding onto that one?”

  He helped her to her feet and held the door open for her.

  “
I was saving it for you,” he said through the lollipop as she hobbled away. “See you in two weeks!”

  “Not if I see you first!” she called out.

  She walked to the elevator, but rather than going to the lobby she hit the button for the third floor. The inpatient ward.

  “I’m here to see Katie—Katherine Kesey,” she said.

  “Here we go,” the receptionist said, holding up a chart. “Just sign in here.” He handed her a clipboard across the counter. “Name, ID number—student ID is fine—the patient you’re visiting, then your John Hancock.”

  She filled out the fields and handed it back to him.

  Her stomach felt heavy as she made her way down the hall of the ward to the intense smell of hospital disinfectant.

  “Come in!”

  Katie was propped up on the hospital bed. There was a teen show on the TV, muted. The other bed was vacant. There was no one else there.

  “Hey.” Her voice came across drained of its usual energy.

  Alex moved to stand at her bedside. Katie, in a hospital gown, had deep bags under her eyes, heavy-lidded, and was Alex mistaken or they were a bit skittish, too? “How are you feeling?”

  “Still a little woozy, but okay. They said I could get out of here in a few hours.”

  “I’m glad. The room’s a little too quiet without you.”

  Katie mustered a weak smile, then her face went solemn and she stared out the window. From the hill that held the student health center, they could see most of the campus, the vast open spaces sprinkled with evergreens and leafless deciduous trees tiny like a diorama, students and professors making their way through the paths to the assortment of red-brick colonial and angular modern classroom buildings.

  “Mom’s not coming out. She told me it was my fault for drinking too hard. Said she was glad my health insurance covered it, or it was coming out of my college fund.”

  Alex grimaced in sympathy. “Parents can really suck sometimes.” She felt guilty saying so. As much as thinking about her father made her well up with anger, she had to admit to herself that he would always be there when she needed him, no matter what. “How are you doing?”

  “Holding up,” she said, but her voice cracked as she did. “Barely.” Tears welled up in her eyes.