The Crimes of Orphans

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The Crimes of Orphans Page 25

by Obie Williams


  He slipped his nail into one of the screws and pushed it as hard as he could, trying to get it to budge. It didn’t, even as his nail began to bend. He struggled, pushing harder, until suddenly his nail tore off deep into the quick beneath. He pulled back his hand with a hiss and jammed his thumb into his mouth, nursing it for a moment.

  Redoubling his efforts, he tried the other screw with his uninjured thumb. Initially, it seemed as stubborn as the first. Then, just as he was sure he’d lose another nail, the screw wrenched free from its initial tightness and began turning bit by bit. After a few rotations, he was able to grab it between his fingers and unscrew it the rest of the way. He pocketed it and went to work prying at the seam of the box. Little by little it pulled back, and after a few fractions of an inch he was able to pivot it on the remaining screw until it was open. His heart pounding excitedly, he felt around inside to find, as he had hoped, the mechanism was nearly identical to that in Rain’s trunk. Ignoring the stinging in his thumb, he used it to manipulate the locking mechanism as he pulled up on the linking rod with his other hand. With a soft pop, the latch came free and the trunk opened a fraction of an inch.

  Pausing his movements for a moment, Alex held the trunk lid still so that it was barely open and waited. Listening, he searched for any voices or movement inside the car that might indicate they had heard what he was doing. A full minute passed before he finally cracked the lid just enough to peer outside.

  At first, he saw only white. The harsh glare of the afternoon sun seemed to bounce off every surface out there, stabbing into eyes that had adjusted to pure blackness. Gradually his vision cleared, and through his slender viewing space he was able to see the road slipping away behind the vehicle, all dirt and smashed vegetation. Their path was only wide enough for one car, bordered on each side by endless trees blurring past them. Wherever they were headed, it was away from any established town. Alex wondered whether he could find shelter by nightfall even if he did escape. He had no idea how far they had travelled. As he pondered this, a puff of black smoke belched up from the car’s tailpipe and erupted in his face. He was unable to stifle an involuntary cough that burst forth from his lungs.

  From inside the cab came a short, unholy screech, followed by muffled voices.

  “Good Lord!” a young, startled voice said. “That thing scared me half to—”

  “Be quiet,” a second voice commanded. Alex was almost certain it belonged to the big guy from the house. “What did you hear?”

  Alex used one hand to hold the trunk as near to closed as he could and the other to cover his mouth. His body went through a series of violent heaves as he tried to contain the coughing fit. But then that became the least of his worries as, all of a sudden, he got the distinct feeling he was not alone inside his own head. It was a strange sensation, like pressure pushing in on his mind from all sides. It felt like he was being smothered in a dense fog, and for a moment all he wanted to do was fall asleep.

  Doing the only thing he could immediately think of to combat whatever was happening to him, Alex closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing at all. He pictured huge, swallowing waves of blackness. He pictured nothingness. He pictured being back in that lake, drowning all over again. Down, down, and down.

  And just when it seemed he could not win out against that unseen invading force, another scream issued from the cab. This one, however, was not otherworldly at all. It was the terrified cry of a young girl. Alex’s eyes popped open. A single thought—Amelie!—burst into his mind not a fraction of a second after the vice-like grip released his psyche.

  “Put her to sleep,” he heard the big guy command.

  Amelie’s screams tapered off abruptly.

  “Thank you,” the younger male voice said, exasperated. “Now may we please drive in peace?”

  No one said anything further. In the trunk, Alex’s mind was racing. There was no way he could slip out of the car now, not if they had Amelie. If he did that, she would surely be killed, and though he might well encounter the same fate by staying, he knew he had no other choice. He couldn’t leave her behind to die while he saved himself.

  He stayed still for a time, holding the trunk nearly closed while he waited for any further signs of danger from the car or his mind. When he felt confident he could move safely once again, he rolled on his side and retrieved the screw from his pocket. Reaching out to the hand holding onto the trunk lid, he took a deep breath, held it, and slashed the screw deep across the soft flesh of his palm just above the wrist. He let out his breath carefully, trying to block out the pain and the holler that wanted to come with it. Then, switching hands holding the lid, he opened it just enough to reach out as far as he could with the injured palm. Holding it past the bumper, he flexed it over and over, forcing blood to drip generously onto the road behind them as they sped along. He did this for as long as he could—close to a mile—before his bleeding slowed, his palm growing tacky.

  He retrieved his hand and shoved it into his pocket, wiping off as much of the blood as he could in there, out of sight. Then he went about reversing his escape procedure, manipulating the hook once more to close the trunk as quietly as he had opened it. He replaced the locking mechanism’s box cover and returned the screw, but gave it only one full turn, just in case.

  Alex didn’t know what had become of Rain, but he did know that his brother would come looking. And if he came down this road, he would know he was on the right track.

  A significant amount of time passed; he had no way of telling how much. At one point, he fell into fractured, inconsistent sleep, but was awoken once more when the car came to an abrupt, skidding stop. He heard doors opening and closing, the vehicle’s occupants exiting.

  “You bring the girl, I’ll grab the boy,” the big guy said. The only response was a series of irregular vocalized clicks.

  “I have preparations to take care of,” the young man said.

  “No one’s stopping you,” the big guy said.

  Alex could hear hurried footsteps walking away, and then heavier ones approaching the trunk. He immediately went limp and closed his eyes. During the long drive, he considered his options upon being released from this steel prison. His first instinct was to come out fighting hard, but he realized that not knowing where he’d be or how many captors he may have would make that a very bad idea. Besides, if they had intended to kill him outright, they could have done so easily back at the house. Taking him meant they needed him for something, and that gave him time—time he fully intended to bide. So he elected to feign unconsciousness, hoping he might be able to at least observe his surroundings without being noticed.

  He heard the trunk pop open and fresh, cool air rushed in as light filtered through his eyelids. Then there was a fingertip tapping him on the forehead. He willed himself to stay perfectly still. But when that hand suddenly grabbed his ear and twisted it hard, Alex’s eyes popped open and he cried out.

  “I thought so,” the big guy said, and then pointed a gun at him. There was a pop and Alex felt a sharp pain in his left breast. The dizziness set in almost immediately, and he had just enough time to gaze up at the man, notice curiously that there were no longer any trees around them, and then his mind spiraled down through the grey and into the black.

  EIGHTEEN

  I

  Rain crouched down and his eyes played over Lita’s sleeping form. She had been out for hours, nearly the entire day slipping by around her. For the most part, she had slept peacefully, aside from a couple brief tossing fits. Rain was almost sorry to have to wake her. From the depth of her slumber, he knew she mustn’t have had a decent rest in some time.

  He gently touched her shoulder and gave her a small shake. “Lita, it’s time to—”

  Her reaction was as quick and precise as it was fierce. Her eyes snapping open, her hand flashed out and took hold of Rain’s wrist, bending it at an angle that would be painful for a human. He looked down at her hand, then to her. For a moment, there was a glint of wild
animosity in her green eyes, but it disappeared in the space of a blink and she released him.

  “Sorry,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

  “My fault. I should know better than to shake a sleeping assassin. Next time I’ll throw pebbles from across the room.”

  She peered at him with the eye that didn’t have a fist in it. “Next time?”

  Rain only responded with a coy smile before finding a seat on the floor and lying down on his back, his hands behind his head. He had dressed himself, but only in the t-shirt and jeans, not his daytime attire.

  “You’ve been busy,” Lita said. While she was sleeping, he had removed the heavy stone lid of one of the coffins and stood it up against the door. The other coffin had its lid slid halfway open.

  “I figured we shouldn’t take our chances with the explosion. The lid should dampen some of it, and I emptied out the other coffin for us to take cover in.”

  Lita chuckled. “Hopefully Mister and Misses Harper don’t mind,” she said, glancing at the nameplate above the door.

  “I actually think it was Misses and Misses,” Rain replied.

  “Huh,” Lita said. She stood up and stretched with a groan as she shifted on her feet, trying to coax the painful tingling from them. Then, with a shiver, realized she was still only wearing underwear and a tank top, so she snatched up her pants and began putting them on. “How much longer until the fireworks?”

  Rain checked his pocket watch. “About twenty minutes.”

  She had just finished pulling up her pants and paused with her thumbs still hooked in the waistband. Then she pushed them back down along with her underwear and stepped out of both.

  “What are you doing?” Rain asked, quirking a brow.

  “If I might die in twenty minutes, I think I’d like to get laid one more time,” she said nonchalantly as she knelt down and started unbuckling his belt.

  “Do I get a say in this?” he asked with a chuckle, but made no move to stop her.

  “Not really, no,” she said, smirking. There was certainly no coaxing necessary. He was ready by the time she had gotten his clothing out of the way, and she wasted no time straddling him and letting out a soft moan at the strangely exciting coolness of him entering her once again. He moved his hands towards her, but she took them and placed them firmly on her hips. “You just relax. I’ll take it from here.”

  And so she did. He finished first this time, but she followed shortly after, rocking with a hand between her legs and enjoying the feeling of him under and inside her. She lost sense of time during, and half expected the place to blow up right in the middle of it all, so she was surprised when she had come down from the last waves of pleasure and he told her they had about eight minutes to spare.

  They dressed quickly, stealing glances and stupid grins at one another the whole time. Though they were well aware that the rest of this night could bring terrible things once they escaped, they also needed these few moments of levity so they could keep their heads about them.

  Rain pulled the empty coffin lid aside and gestured for Lita. She tried not to picture its most recent occupant as she climbed inside and did her best to make room for him. He was right behind her, and it was a tight fit, but he managed to pull the lid closed and lie down with her, knee-to-knee, face-to-face.

  “Would you like to hear something funny?” Rain whispered. His breath was a cold chill against her lips.

  “Sure,” she whispered back.

  “This is my first time in a coffin.”

  Lita snickered. “Want to hear something funnier?”

  “What?”

  “It’s not mine.”

  Rain laughed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, I had this mark—this real shitbag undertaker who was scamming money and jewelry off people. So I hid out in one of the coffins in his showroom…” she suddenly started laughing, “You…you should have seen the look on his face when I—”

  The force of the explosion ripping through the building dwarfed whatever startled cries may have come from the two of them. Through the shaking and the sound of falling stone, Lita felt Rain’s arms around her, and she clutched close to his chest, holding her breath until it was over, one way or the other.

  When silence came, and with it the realization that they had not been killed, Lita released a shuddering cry, followed by a shaky little laugh. Lifting her head, she sought out Rain with her lips, finding first his rough chin and then his mouth. The kiss, though brief, somehow seemed more passionate than any that had come in the hours before.

  Reluctantly pulling back, Rain reached up and cautiously slid the coffin lid aside enough for them to get out. Dust and small rocks rained down upon them and Lita coughed, but when they both climbed out to survey the damage, they were surprised at how little there actually was. The coffin lid blocking the door was split into several pieces, and the door itself was hanging half off its hinges, but for the most part it seemed as though Jonas had actually taken some care in his application of the explosives. Needless to say, it didn’t serve to reduce either of their desires to see him good and injured before morning.

  In seconds, they both had their possessions in hand and were rushing headlong into the cool night, towards Rain’s car. They both knew what was at stake. Lita was a bit surprised that Jonas hadn’t done any damage to the car. She half expected him to at least have melted the tires. He had expressed some appreciation for fine mechanics in the past, so perhaps he just couldn’t bring himself to harm the old girl. No matter the reason, she was just thankful for small favors as they climbed into the car and Rain brought it to life.

  As he got the car moving, Rain glanced her way. “Seatbelt.”

  “Oh don’t worry,” she said with a grin, “I’ve seen you drive. I’m all over it.”

  As they made their way down the hill to the edge of the cemetery, the sun was just disappearing behind the horizon. The sky was still quite blue, but there was no longer any danger of direct exposure. At the bottom of the hill, they pulled onto the dirt road that led out to the highway and Rain gunned it, kicking up rocks and debris behind them as the car fishtailed briefly and then shot like an arrow out of the cemetery and into the woods.

  They reached the highway junction in no time, and Rain brought the car to a halt. “Wait here,” he said before unbuckling and stepping out. He walked to where the little dirt road merged onto the larger dirt highway. Lita tilted her head and watched from inside the cab as he crouched down, observing the ground, looking first left, then right, then left again. He ran his fingers over the soil, then picked up a pinch and sniffed it. It was like watching an animal on the hunt.

  Rain retreated to the car and got back in. “Looks like Jonas headed towards Maple City.”

  “Good, I know a guy who can help us find him there. But let’s get the hell to your house first.”

  “Yeah,” Rain said. He was already on the road, pushing the car as hard as it would go. For once, Lita didn’t begrudge him the speed one bit.

  II

  Bursting into the clearing outside Moonshadow Manor, Rain threw the car into park and left it running as he got out and ran for the house.

  Lita was right behind him, but she felt her stomach bottom out at the sight of the front door standing wide open, and her mind immediately began conjuring up some truly grisly possibilities before she even reached the front steps. Inside, she saw none of the horrors she expected, and Rain was just standing in the middle of the living room, looking around slowly. She passed him on his right, heading to the open basement door and hollering down it. “Alex? Amelie?” The only response was a slight echo. She started towards the kitchen, but stopped in her tracks when Rain held up a hand.

  “You don’t need to do that. There’s nobody in the house.” He was staring down at the floor in front of him, his eyes moving side to side as though he was reading a book.

  “What is it?” She asked, unable to see anything herself aside from some floorboards and
a little dust.

  “Somebody came in through the front door. A man, big…bigger than me. He had a gun. Then there was a scuffle right here, and…” he paused, closing his eyes. His nostrils flared and he flinched, grimacing. “Something not human came in through the kitchen, then…” he trailed off, thoughtfully retreating towards to the front door. Lita followed him curiously. Outside, he knelt in the grass just off the front steps. He sniffed the air, made another sour face, and this time actually spit on the ground. “They both left carrying something heavy, the big man and the creature.” He stood and walked fast towards the road entrance to the clearing. Just past the tree line, he looked about for a moment, then nodded. “They came here and got into a car, not big but not small, maybe a sedan, and then they headed back to the highway.” He turned and looked back to Lita, who appeared concerned. “Nobody was killed in the house or out here. I believe they took both Alex and Amelie alive. What do you think?”

  “What do I think? Well, first off, I think that was both very impressive and incredibly creepy.” Rain didn’t look amused, so she went on. “The big guy could be Cleric. Probably is, given everything else we know. A not-human creature though? I assume you don’t mean a vampire.”

  “No. Something much worse.” He started back towards the house, lighting a cigarette as he walked.

  “Then I got nothing on that one. I’ve known Cleric to press-gang vampires into his service, but never anything else.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to see what Jonas knows then.” Reaching the house, he said, “Wait here,” and headed inside, a stream of smoke trailing over his shoulder as he walked. He returned shortly and tossed a canvas sack to Lita, which she caught, and then he turned to lock the front door.

 

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