Far Too Young To Die: An Astraea Renata Novel

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Far Too Young To Die: An Astraea Renata Novel Page 10

by Wayne, Douglas


  - 15 -

  The door from the garage lead into a small room that looked like a pantry. Two columns of white cabinet doors lined the right wall from floor to ceiling. They were shut, but I could imagine them being filled to the brim with every dried good imaginable. That or just loaded with beer. Either way, it was a party just waiting to happen.

  Just past the pantry, the room opened into a large dining room packed full of people. Unlike the group outside, this group was more casually dressed. The outfit of choice for damn near everyone was a pair of blue jeans and a printed tee. I nearly had to plug my ears to keep my eardrums from rupturing from the rap music blaring in a speaker just inside the door.

  Contractor my ass, I thought as dozens of eyes from the people on the outer ring all turned to look at the new arrivals. There isn’t a contractor alive that could keep this madness contained inside the house. Not unless the whole house, including the thin paneled garage doors was heavily insulated. I’d bet my ownership stake of Olson’s on the placing having some sort of magical wards, which meant that either the owner was a caster or knew someone who could. If I’d had more time, I could’ve figured out how they were created and could’ve even pinpointed the caster if he was at the party, but I doubted that they would be quiet long enough for me to do it. It wasn’t important to figure out how it went up more than it was to know it was. That meant this Walt guy had dealings in the old world.

  Jason led me into the room while I held on to his arm for dear life as if the massive horde of people inside would rip me off him to feed on my soul. We walked through the crowd which spread out enough to allow us to get through. Some of the people gave us dirty looks as we passed, but I did my best to ignore it. This wasn’t the right time to get into a pissing match with a glorified group of nobodies.

  We exited the dining room and entered another large room with enough padded seating to hold thirty people comfortably. Too bad for the couches, they were all holding nearly double the amount of people they were designed to. Unlike the dining room, there was a clear path to the hallway. Most of the people in the room seemed more interested in the person sitting down next to them than they were to us was we traipsed across the room.

  Once in the hallway, he cut off to the right into a short hallway which ended at a sliding glass door covered by top down blinds.

  “When we get down there, you need to keep your mouth shut unless they specifically talk to you. And then you should only say as little as possible to respond.”

  “Seems kinda strict,” I said, peeking between the blinds at the group I was watching earlier from the side of the house.

  “These people are shrewd businessmen. They all talk so fast that if you were to go to them asking for a cup of sugar, you’d walk away the proud owner of a new house or car.”

  “It’s a good thing I don’t need any sugar,” I said with a smile.

  He opened the blinds and opened the sliding glass door which opened onto a nice sized wooden balcony. Along both sides there was a wooden bench built into the patio, I guessed for extra seating, but maybe it was there for another reason. Above me the deck had a cloth canopy that covered every square inch of it to protect both the deck and its occupants from the elements. There were a few deck chairs and even a round metal table with a glass top. Other than for a few stragglers who were bent over clutching their heads, nobody was up here. Apparently the party was either inside or down on the ground.

  He led me off to the set of stairs closest to the garage. They dump us on the ground about twenty feet ahead of where the creeper had caught me eavesdropping. I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but I decided it wasn’t worth blowing my cover for now.

  When we reached the bottom, I clutched onto his arm, once again reaching beneath his arm and body to make us look closer than we really were. We approached the group slowly though I wasn’t quite sure why. Was this guy not supposed to be out here with them, or was it something else?

  The man I pointed out noticed us first as he turned his head to look up at the balcony. He gave us a sideways glance which caught the attention of the rest of the group. I gave him a wink, hoping Jason didn’t catch it, otherwise it might have been impossible to sell the story I told earlier.

  “What are you doing down here, Jason?” Randy asked. “This gathering is for the upper echelon only. Go back to your frat party inside so we can enjoy ourselves in peace.” He licked his lips as he looked me up and down. “Leave the girl. We have some business of our own to attend to.”

  Jason pulled himself away and glared at me. I shrugged and mouthed the words ‘no idea.’

  He looked over at Randy and kicked over an empty beer can on the ground. “Grunts like me do all the work and assholes like you get all the credit.”

  “Now, now,” Randy said, failing to hide a laugh. “Is that any way to talk to your boss?”

  “I only answer to Walt, asshole. Not you.”

  “I’ll remember that next time you are short. Or when you decide to use your product instead of selling it. You know how he feels about having junkies working for him.”

  Beads of sweat formed on Jason’s brow. He reached up and wiped it off with the sleeve of his shirt before backing away. I heard him mumble some things as he left, the angry words of the disgruntled employee. I wasn’t exactly sure what he sold, but I’d bet everything one of the products came in a little wooden box.

  Randy stood up and took my hand and kissed it, then led me to an empty chair not far from his. “You shouldn’t waste time with people like that. They will only bring you down with them. I’ve watched more than my fair share of beautiful women get brought down by a man who couldn’t control himself.”

  “What makes you think I was here with him?” I said, batting my eyelashes while giving him the biggest, toothiest grin I could manage.

  “Call it a hunch.”

  “I noticed you earlier. He told me I shouldn’t approach you on my own, so I talked him into taking me to you instead.”

  “Did you now?” Randy said, returning my smile. He turned towards the patio and raised his glass then held up two fingers. I turned, trying to catch a glimpse of who he was signaling to, but the only people I saw were the same ones sitting on the patio clearly looking hung over.

  He placed his empty glass on the grass and turned to look at me. “My name’s Randy. This is Martin, Elsie, James, Alfie, and Liz.” They all nodded as he mentioned them, which helped put names with the faces. “This lovely lady is?” he held his hand out and waited for my response.

  “Annie. Annie Hall.”

  The group all collectively welcomed me then went back to their own conversations, leaving me and Randy alone.

  “Ahh, our drinks,” Randy said reaching behind me.

  I turned and noticed Aiden. He was wearing the same clothes he had on when I last saw him the night I disappeared. In his hand he was holding a small wooden tray with eight small glasses, each holding a red colored liquid. He handed Randy two of the glasses and picked up the empty one on the ground while giving me a look of recognition as he did. When he stood back up, I noticed a thin metal band around his neck. On his left side there was a red light that was flashing.

  I looked around at the other people serving drinks and noticed the same metal collars. What is going on? Did they have people collared they wanted to keep a close eye on? I knew why they might want to keep close tabs on Aiden, but there were easily six other servers making the rounds. Were they in as deep as him? I doubted it, since most of them wore clean clothes and had recently taken a bath, but I couldn’t know for sure.

  “That will be all,” he said, handing me a glass.

  Aiden nodded and made his way back towards the house. I turned towards Randy and held up my glass while watching Aiden in my peripheral vision. Instead of walking up the wooden staircase leading to the deck, he entered a small metal doorway in the center of the house.

  The sight of Randy motioning with his glass broke me out of my daz
e. I got the point and brought the glass up to my lips and took a sip. Whatever was in the glass was the nastiest drink I’d ever tasted. It definitely was a red wine, but it was like the grapes spoiled long before being crushed by the nastiest feet in existence. I didn’t want to be rude, especially now I knew Aiden was here, so I took another drink and gave him a smile.

  “Not bad,” I said, trying not to throw it back up.

  “Vintage 1932, from Walt’s personal stock.”

  I shot him a surprised glance, but not for the reason he was probably expecting. Since I was old enough to drink alcohol, I’d been told that wine got better with age. Apparently the grapes in 1932 failed to get the memo.

  “Is there a lady’s room close by?” I asked looking around the yard.

  “There’s a doorway under the deck. Go inside and make your first left. The bathrooms are all there.”

  “You’re a peach,” I said, and I placed my glass on the center of my chair, not caring if someone came along and took it for themselves.

  - 16 -

  The door opened when I reached the edge of the deck and a short dark haired girl stepped outside. She held a tray full of food. Mainly cheese, crackers and a few varieties of olives. I grabbed one of the light purple olives and slipped through the door before it closed behind her.

  Inside, I found myself in a long concrete hallway with doors lining each side every ten or so feet apart. I approached the first set of doors and noticed the signs. Men’s room on the right. Ladies on the left. I played a hunch and opened the men’s room door and said, “Aiden.”

  “Come inside and lock the door behind you.”

  I glanced down the hall to make sure the coast was clear then slipped inside, locking the deadbolt behind me. The smell of cinnamon wafted in my nose, causing my sinuses to go berserk. I’m not allergic, but there’s enough in the air to make it difficult to breathe. I imagine it had something to do with the unnatural smells that come out of the bodies of men. At the pub, I’d dealt with more than my fair share of nasty bathrooms just by cleaning them at the end of the night.

  To be fair, most of the guys in the pub were drunk as hell. I was just happy they kept the mess there where it was easily sprayed down with a hose instead of in the bar where I’d have to stop serving drinks to clean it up.

  I walked around the concrete barrier that kept prying eyes from staring inside when the door opened and noticed Aiden sitting on the marble countertop between the two sinks.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked once he saw me.

  “I could say the same thing about you.”

  “What happened to you? I waited at Greg’s house like you asked. He came in late, about three in the morning and asked me where you were.”

  “What did you tell him?” I asked, now worried that Greg might know more than I wanted him too. It’s bad enough that Aiden and I are in trouble without having to freak out about him too.

  “I told him I didn’t know.”

  “Bet that made him happy.”

  Aiden shrugged. “It wasn’t a lie. I was expecting you to walk in the door with him. When you didn’t, I knew something had to be wrong. What happened at the house?”

  “I don’t really know. There were three guys in the house when I got there. They had me sit on the couch while they brought out a small wooden box. They pulled out a baggie and did something to it. The last thing I remember is them jabbing a needle in my arm.”

  “Was there a purple powder in the bag?”

  “Yeah. What was it?”

  “I’m not sure. Something new they’ve been pushing hard on the streets. The only thing I know about it is they cook it up like heroin and inject it into a vein. It’s not really something they tell anyone about. They wanted us to give it out to anyone who wanted to try something new, or those who couldn’t afford anything else.”

  “I’m not a drug dealer by trade or anything, but why would they give it away? Wouldn’t that kill the profit margins?”

  “Don’t have that answer for you. I was just a delivery boy.”

  I didn’t expect him to know everything about it, but wished he knew a little more. It sounded like something that had been on the streets for some time now, so I found it weird he didn’t know what it did. I figured the ideal customers might have something to do with it, but the two seemed worlds apart. On one side you have the eternal experimenter. People not shy about risking their lives for their next, or more powerful, high. I don’t know for sure, but this group of people sound like they have money. Maybe not the big spenders, but they’d have enough to pay for their fix. Not exactly the type of people you’d want to disappear for weeks at a time.

  On the other hand, you have the eternal moochers. People who go around trying to beg, cheat, or even steal to get their high. Unlike the experimenters, I could see the dealers wanting to take these people out of the picture, if only to get some peace and quiet.

  “You don’t have any sitting around anywhere, do you?” I asked, almost hopeful for a yes.

  He shook his head. “At the end of the night they made me give everything up. Cash, stash, tips,” he gave me a serious look. “Everything. If the money didn’t match up, they took enough out of my wallet to make up for it.”

  “If you gave the purple shit away, how would they know?”

  “I had to give them the name or location of the person I gave it to. They told me they wanted to talk to the people who tried it out to see how it was.”

  “Wait a minute. You gave the stuff away then told them who you gave it to, so they could send someone to talk to them about it later?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Because that stuff knocked me out for a week. I can’t speak for the others, but I woke up in an alley in Augusta. Unless they talked to me while I was blacked out, which I doubt, something else happened.”

  “Maybe they gang raped you or something.”

  “Is that what you would do?”

  “Well, no.” His face flushed then he turned away and rubbed his head. “I would’ve packed you in my car and drove you home. But they aren’t me. I can’t think of another reason for them to do that.” I wasn’t trying to make him feel bad. Believe me, it’s still hard to believe that something like that didn’t happen to me.

  “Enough about me,” I said, desperately wanting to change the subject. Not that I was afraid to find out I might have, in fact, been raped multiple times, but I wasn’t hanging in the men’s bathroom at some house I’d never been to for the fun of it. “What’s up with the collar.” I reached out and felt the smooth metal collar. It was cold to the touch though it vibrated slightly, like it had power coursing through it.

  “When you didn’t come home, I waited until Greg went to sleep and went to the house looking for you. I thought I was being careful, but someone must’ve spotted me while I was walking by. There were six guns on me before I made it another block.”

  “That still doesn’t explain the collar.”

  “Apparently, they didn’t like the fact I survived the car accident, so they wanted to do something special to make sure I died properly next time. There’s a tracking chip embedded in it, so they know where I’m at all the time.”

  I stood up and grabbed the collar with both hands and twisted it, trying desperately to snap it off his neck. When he realized what I was doing he pushed me back slamming my head against the cold brick wall.

  “What was that about?” I asked, rubbing the back of my head.

  “They told me whatever they plan to do will get a thousand times worse if I try to take off the collar.”

  “How would they know? Once I take it off, we can be out of here in no time.”

  “There are hundreds of people here. How do you plan on getting past them all?”

  “I have a few tricks.” I reached for the collar, slowly this time allowing him some time to get comfortable with it. His face changed from one of pure terror to one of acceptance as my hands touch the metal band around his neck. I
felt around for a latch or button to release it, but found nothing. It was as if they wanted to make sure it couldn’t come off unless they wanted it too.

  I suspected the only way to remove the collar normally was with a special device only they had. It had to be close, but the house was far too large to find it on my own, saying I’d understand what it was if I actually found it. Instead, I had to try something else.

  “Close your eyes,” I said as I placed one hand on each side of his neck.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to try to shock it off. Maybe if I send enough electricity through it, I can trigger the locking mechanism.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears, but we are running out of time. Eventually someone is going to need to go to the bathroom and try to get in here. This bathroom is far too large to be locked under normal circumstances. What are you going to tell them you were doing in here, saying they give you the chance to ask?”

  Aiden nodded and looked down at his feet. “Is it going to hurt?”

  “A little.” I brushed my thumb along his cheek. “I’ll keep it as light as possible and try to keep it contained to the collar.”

  “Then make it quick,” he said, closing his eyes.

  I resumed my grip on the collar and held it up away from his collarbone, hoping to minimize contact with his skin. Some of the energy would pass into him, no matter how hard I tried, but I held onto a sliver of hope that the worst of it wouldn’t.

  “Fulgur,” I whispered, causing small bolts of electricity to jut out of my fingertips. Attracted to the metal, most of the bolts shot into the collar, causing the red lights on the side to blink faster. The silver band slowly turned yellow, then white, as the energy continued to flow into it.

  Aiden let out a light scream as the bolts jumped from the collar into his neck, causing his neck and face muscles to spasm. I tried to hold the band away from his skin, but the way his neck muscles contracted made it difficult. Aiden’s face turned dark red from the effort, so I decided more drastic measures were in order. A light flow of electricity might short out the collar eventually, but there was no way to know how long it might take. I needed to pour more into it. Not so much that it killed him, but it had to be enough it kicked it off near immediately.

 

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