The Faces of Lions (Book One - The Reset)

by Angie Morel

  The boys were a different issue. Butcher, who appeared to be number two in command, was definitely gunning for me since I served him up his own nut sandwich. The other boy, Cheeto, was an evil little shit. Earlier, after my beat-down outside of Gymboree, Savannah had finger-hooked him by the neck of his shirt, pulling him to her as they led me down the mall. She whispered something to him. I saw this out of the corner of my rapidly swelling eye. He’d snickered and then made his way over, walking alongside me.

  “Hi, I’m Cheeto” he’d said, acting all giggly and weird.

  I had paid him no mind, staring straight ahead as I walked forward, the cord that Todd had looped around my neck pulling slightly with each stride. All of the sudden Cheeto did a foot swipe, causing me to drop heavily onto my hip and bang my already bruised head on the floor. Fuming, I pulled up slowly and got to my knees. When I was in a crouch getting ready to stand, he nudged me, making me spill to the floor again. Red-hot anger rushed through my veins. That little cocksucker was going to die. It was a vow I made, prone on the floor, listening to Cheeto and the others titter with mirth at my predicament. Screw ‘em, I thought, making no move to get up after that. Todd finally said enough and yanked on my leash, forcing me to get up or choke.

  Having no choice, I stood, wearing a blank expression on my face.

  Chapter 27

  The darkness was thick and an eerie silence filled the mall, except for the occasional flutter of wings and cooing from the doves above, when I heard the faint tap. If I hadn’t been listening for an out-of-place sound I would’ve missed it—just as Darth missed it. A subtle signal to let me know the boy was there, watching. Now the waiting game began.

  Darth (with no encouragement from me) offered up his name and bio early on in the shift. Based on the things he said, my assumption of his “follower” status was confirmed. After numerous failed attempts to get me to respond to his conversation prompts, he finally got the hint and stopped talking.

  For the past hour or so I pretended to sleep, and the time passed excruciatingly slow. Lucky for me it was easy to look asleep sporting swollen eyes, and my cramping bladder finally gave up and went into lock-down mode, which then allowed me to stop fidgeting.

  Darth struggled to stay awake—I saw his head bob a few times before he finally succumbed. Not allowing myself to move a single muscle, I studied him a while longer, noting the relaxed breathing and uncomfortable tilt of his head. He was asleep.

  After that it was a battle for me to stay awake while waiting for the boy. The drugs were mostly out of my system, but I could still feel the heavy pull of sleep trying to close my eyes. That, combined with lack of sleep from the night before, made it really tough—to the point where I had to bite my injured lip to snap myself awake a few times.

  Just as I began thinking that maybe I misunderstood the whole thing with the boy and he really had no plans to come and help, he appeared next to me as if by magic. Startled me a bit in fact. Pausing for a moment, he shifted his feet, unsure what to do. And then his little fingers began investigating the knots on the cord that snaked around my wrists. The knots were tight and there were a lot of them. He found the first one and began working on it.

  There was a quiet intensity about him. This was something I sensed, since the darkness prevented me from seeing him clearly. He was an outline, a shadowy figure with light colored hair. And not a very tall one. It hit me suddenly, how young he must be. Judging from his size, he had to be (my heart gave a squeeze) around Mary’s age. Five or six, I’d guess.

  He got the first knot out, with several more to go. This was going to take a long time, I thought with dismay. Too bad there wasn’t something sharp around, something he could use to cut…

  Wait! I still had Harvey’s switchblade in my pocket, I could feel it!

  Moving my elbow up and down got his attention. He paused. Lifting my hips, I tried to indicate that he needed to check my pocket. He didn’t get it. Slowly he started working on the knots again, probably wondering what I was doing. I leaned towards him and whispered the word “pocket”, moving my hips up and down.

  He ignored me.

  Shit! How to tell him? I looked down at my hands. My fingers were right by his hips. Stretching a finger out, I poked him on his hipbone. He looked up and I moved my hips again, and then followed that up with another poke at him in the general area of where a pocket would be located.

  Understanding dawned, I could tell by the change in his posture.

  He quit working on the knots and silently leaned over me with his hand out. Contorting my body, I twisted and lifted my hips to make it easy for him to get into the front pocket. While he reached in, I tried to identify more details, since the motion put him inches from my face. There was no mistaking his blond hair. And I caught a glimpse of Mickey Mouse on his shirt, vague but recognizable in the darkness. That was about it, except for what my nose detected. He did not smell good at all, as was the trend for anyone residing in this mall.

  His fingers dug in and after a moment came back out with the blade. Yes! I nodded, encouraging him. He fiddled with it, unsure what to do. There was a certain way to open it, and I was starting to worry that he wouldn’t be able to do it, or that he wouldn’t be able to do it without making noise.

  It took him a few precious moments, but the blade finally locked in with a click. We both made an inhale sound at the noise, and then swung our heads towards Darth. There was no movement. The boy went straight to work cutting the telephone cord. He was pushing hard in a sawing motion and the sharp blade didn’t have too much difficulty cutting through the coating and the thin wires encased within. The wire wound around several times, but once he got about halfway through, I was able to jostle the rest loose. He’d nicked my wrist in his enthusiasm, but I barely felt it, too busy thinking of my imminent freedom.

  After my hands were free I rotated my wrists a few times and then opened and closed my hands to get the blood flowing again. Reaching out, I gently extracted the knife from his fingers and got busy cutting through the cord that tied my ankles to the bench leg. The boy waited by my side as I worked. When I was free from the bench I stood gingerly, my body stiff and protesting. My bladder kicked in again, triggered by the change in position. I pushed the urge back. Unfortunately, peeing was a luxury I couldn’t afford right now. Staying alive and escaping took precedence.

  I was reaching a hand out to the boy when a flashlight blinked on up ahead, shooting its beam straight out from the furniture store. The light bobbled a second before racing down the wall in our direction, searching. As I watched it, all I could think was you have got to be kidding me. Of course this couldn’t have happened five minutes from now when we would’ve been gone. There was no time to dwell on my ridiculously bad luck as the boy grabbed my hand and pulled hard. My brain had a second to process the shock of how strong he was before my feet starting moving.

  The bruised muscles in my legs screamed in protest at the sudden activity. Ignoring the pain, I held his hand and hobbled down the mall after him. It didn’t take long for the flashlight beam to find us.

  “Hey! What the fuck!”

  Goddamn Savannah. It was her voice that screeched out, and then we heard her feet pound against the mall floor she started running towards us. She yelled again, trying to wake the others. The explosive sound of her voice cut through the quiet of the night like air horn. We didn’t have long.

  I was holding the boy back, I could tell. My injuries were bad enough to where I couldn’t run as fast as I normally could. The boy, however, was a little ball of energy. His feet were practically spinning on the floor like a cartoon character. Knowing that at least he’d be able to get away, I made a split second decision and released his hand.

  “Go,” I said. He hesitated a second. “Go!” I yelled, giving him a shooing motion as I slowed. After a second he twisted around and disappeared into the inky depths of the mall outside the beam of light. It made me sick to think his rescue attempt might’ve jeopardized
his life. At least I knew they’d be more concerned with capturing me first. Hopefully by the time they got around to looking for him, he’d be long gone. An exit sign came into view up ahead, illuminated by Savannah’s bouncing light.

  The sign was mounted above an opening that proclaimed to have restrooms as well. This hallway would lead to a door to the outside world, if only I could get to it in time. Having a goal put a little more juice into my stumbling run. Just as I reached the opening, and in the process of turning my head to check how much of a lead I had, an explosion of light and noise accompanied a hard kick to my forehead.

  In the couple seconds before my mind shut down, my body, moved by momentum only, skimmed the hallway wall before collapsing stiffly, like a slab of meat.

  I was gone before I hit the floor.

  Chapter 28

  SAVANNAH

  Savannah stuttered to a stop, looking down at the gun in her hand. She couldn’t believe the bullet actually hit what she was aiming at. And she had been running in the dark and holding a flashlight when she took the shot! She’d never fired a gun in her life. Her luck really was turning around. Walking towards the hallway, she aimed the circle of light at Asha’s feet. The rest of her body was hidden by the wall.

  “Holy shit! I can’t believe you got her!” Darth said, trotting up behind Savannah.

  The gun had sounded like a bomb going off in the mall when she pulled the trigger. Her ears were still ringing. On the off chance the others hadn’t woken up after hearing her scream a few seconds ago—they’d certainly be awake now, and wondering what the hell happened.

  “I know!” she exclaimed, feeling jacked up—and a touch sick—from maybe killing someone for the first time in her life. Things happened so quickly, she went from waking up to shooting someone in the span of like, two minutes, she thought, with a wild rush of giddiness.

  “I think that little shit kid was with her, so watch out,” she said, trying to calm her excitement as she slowed, nearing the hallway. Asha’s legs, body, and finally her head came into view. Just to be on the safe side, Savannah flicked the light down the hall and then back into the mall, spanning the area.

  No boy in sight.

  Hopefully he’d scuttled back into whatever hole he lived in, she thought, satisfied he was no longer in the area. It was a damn good thing she woke when she did.

  The beam of light returned to Asha. Savannah observed the illuminated body. An image of Asha’s still form lying on the floor of Gymboree flashed through her mind.

  Fool me once she thought.

  Taking a couple of steps, she cocked her leg back and delivered a vicious kick to Asha’s torso, directly in the ribcage. No movement. She kicked her again in the same spot and heard a crack.

  Nothing. Not even a twitch.

  Crouching near the body, Savannah leaned forward and brought the flashlight beam close, making Asha’s face look garish and surreal, like a scene from a horror movie. Slices of white were visible, since her eyelids weren’t closed all the way. How fucking creepy looking, Savannah thought, moving the light to down a tick to the chest area. After detecting no breathing motion, she picked up Asha’s limp wrist and placed her fingers off-center on the underside, just like the nurse did when Savannah had been to the doctor’s office a couple times in the past. After a few seconds of feeling nothing, she dropped the arm, letting it flop to the floor.

  The bullet sure made a mess of her forehead, she thought, studying the wound. Blood from the bullet hole covered Asha’s face and had soaked into her dark hair, which fanned out on the floor beneath her head.

  Savannah’s nose detected a sharp scent. Ammonia. She moved the light to the lower half of Asha’s body. Sure enough, her bladder had released, staining her jeans dark in the crotch and thigh area.

  There was no doubt about it.

  Asha was dead.

  A sound came to Savannah’s ears. The sound of several people running. A smile grew. They’d be so proud of her.

  “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” Clutch roared from behind her, out of breath from his mad dash out of the furniture store.

  The smile dropped. Savannah knew by his tone that he was extremely pissed.

  Bracing herself, she stood and turned, pointing the light downward. “She was trying to get away. I had to!”

  Brenda had brought a flashlight as well, and was scanning Asha’s lifeless body. Then she brought the beam up, shining it directly into Savannah’s eyes, blinding her.

  “You stupid bitch,” Clutch said with venom.

  As she blinked into the blazing whiteness, the gun was ripped from her hand.

  Savannah pouted and threw wounded looks at Clutch. He had no right to be mad at her after everything she’d done for him, she thought, heavy with resentment. It had been over eight hours and she couldn’t believe how pissed he still was that she accidentally killed Asha. It wasn’t like she meant to.

  Well, maybe she did, but so what. Good riddance.

  Obviously he didn’t feel the same about Asha’s death. She touched her bruised cheekbone. He even hit her.

  It should’ve been Darth drawing all of their angry feelings. He was the dumb shit that fell asleep during guard duty. Clutch should’ve punched him. In fact, Savannah thought bitterly, wasn’t she more of a hero than anything? If she hadn’t woken up with the sole purpose of checking on the prisoner (well, maybe to antagonize her a little bit too), Asha would’ve gotten away, aided by that little shit of a kid that somehow managed to survive the winter.

  Savannah looked around at the group. Idiots, all of them.

  They were back in the furniture store. Clutch was cradled in a recliner, ignoring her while going on and on about how badly he’d wanted to use Asha to get to Rolo. She would’ve been used to draw him out first. And then he would’ve done this. And then he would’ve done that. And then he would’ve killed Rolo this way. Or maybe that way.

  Listening to him, Savannah had a flashback of her dad in his recliner, going on and on about how he was going to sock it to the company that he used to work for, how he planned on suing them for all they were worth, how he was going to make them pay for denying him disability benefits, blah blah blah. Shaking off the image, she decided she could really care less about Rolo, one way or another. And she was getting tired of hearing Clutch’s rant.

  She refused to leave, though, afraid they’d talk about her the minute she stepped out of the furniture store. Instead, she sat on the brown couch perpendicular to the recliner and picked at her face. Brenda sat in the chair opposite of Savannah. Brenda had helped herself to Asha’s jacket from the backpack, and was wearing it now. The bitch did it on purpose, Savannah thought—wearing it to keep Asha’s death fresh in everyone’s mind. And the cause of her death. She didn’t care, let them give her dirty looks, and let Brenda continue to sit there, plucking at the sleeves, preening and drawing attention to the jacket.

  “So, what time do you want to go to my cousin’s house?” The question was directed at Clutch, but Savannah gave a pointed look to Brenda as she asked. It was a gentle reminder to them both just who it was that found out the important information on the location of Clutch’s worst enemy.

  She didn’t wait for an answer, but continued on. “They have it really good there. They have running water and electricity. Plus they have all sorts of farm stuff. I think we could live a lot better there.”

  “I don’t give a shit about that,” Clutch snapped. “I just want to get that fucker.” He paused, tapping the arm of the chair with his fist. “Just shut up and leave me alone so I can think.”

  “Fine,” Savannah replied. Well, fuck her for trying to help, she thought, feeling completely unappreciated. They’d just have to see for themselves when they got there, and then she could tell them I told you so. “Well, I think I’ll take a stroll around the mall to see if I can find the little shit, since he’s obviously still around.”

  Her statement was met with silence. Fuck them, she thought, standing. And let
them talk. They needed her, not the other way around, she reminded herself. She went over to where the one gun they had was hidden and grabbed it from under the bed. It was a shotgun. Clutch had taken the hand gun after the Asha incident, and she didn’t think she should push her luck by asking if she could have it back. Maybe if she could find the kid and kill him, Clutch would forgive her.

  “I think I’ll go too,” Brenda suddenly said.

  Savannah rolled her eyes before stomping out of the store and into the mall, Brenda trailing behind her but catching up with a few long strides.

  “You don’t fool me, you know,” Brenda said, after they’d travelled a few stores down.

  “I really don’t give a flying fuck if I fool you or not,” Savannah bit back, giving her an evil look.

  “I know you want Clutch. But you know what? He thinks you’re a dog, he calls you zitty-titty behind your back,” Brenda said smugly. “You have, like, zero chance with him.”

  Savannah felt heat creep up her face. She stopped walking. Turning towards Brenda, she was about to unleash her anger when she felt something slam into her left cheekbone, bringing a stunning pain along with it. She screamed and almost dropped the shotgun. It took her a second to comprehend that she’d just been the victim of the little kid and his slingshot.

  “I—YOU GODDAMNED LITTLE FUCKER!” Savannah yelled, the words garbled and tangled together as she tried to speak past the pain. She could feel her heartbeat already working at the spot where she was hit, making it swell and throb and knot up.

  There was a smile on Brenda’s face. She saw it clearly before the bitch hunched her shoulders down, looking around for the kid. Savannah started to say something to her when a second ball bearing hit her just a tick above her right eye, splitting the skin at the brow. Crying out, she flung her free hand up to try and protect her face. The intensity of the pain was almost more than she could bear. It literally took her breath away. Brenda’s head swung around at her yelp and Savannah could swear she saw her laughing. A fury like she’d never known began bubbling inside, scalding her with its heat. It burned up all the rational thoughts in her brain.