by C. A. Wilke
Neil opened the door to the large expanse and escorted her out for the first time since letting her in. Before them sat a tan colored sedan. Scarlett’s heart sank at the sight of Neil’s drab choice in vehicles. “This is your car?”
He nodded. “It blends in.”
“To what? The dirt?”
“Funny.”
The passenger side door opened silently and she got in. Neil held out a leather blindfold.
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Really? I know where we are.”
“This is about where we’re going.”
“Fine.” She tied the brown strap over her eyes. “There... Can’t see a damn thing.”
“Good.”
Scarlett lied. From the corner of her eye she could see a sliver of light. She wasn’t sure it would be enough to know where she was going, but it was better than nothing. Sorry, Neil. Curiosity and all.
From what she could tell, they never left the warehouse district. In fact, she thought they might have made a few circles. Typical Neil, just trying to cover his tracks.
After nearly ten minutes of peeking at the scraps of light, everything went dark. From the way the engine echoed, Scarlett figured it to be another warehouse.
The car came to a stop and Neil cut the engine. A moment later, Scarlett’s door opened and he helped her out. She started to remove the blindfold.
“Ah, ah, ah... Not just yet.”
“So, now you expect me to walk with this thing on?”
“Sorry.”
She knew he wasn’t sorry. The hand on her arm shook slightly as he snickered.
“Don’t worry, I’ll lead you.” With one hand on her arm, he nudged her forward. They walked across an open expanse then up a few steps. Finally, they stopped and he let her go. A loud clang came from behind, followed by Neil’s voice.
“You can take off your blindfold now.”
Her nose wrinkled at the assault of stale blood, body odor and rancid sweat. Her hands moved slowly up until they reached her head. She tugged at the knot. The brown leather strap slipped from her eyes and fell onto the floor.
Scarlett clenched her jaw. She turned around to make sure she was, in fact, where her eyes told her she was. No matter how much she looked around, her brain struggled to register her environment.
She stood at the edge of a large ring. From the floor up, the space was wrapped in metal bars. Another layer of bars covered the top, making an inescapable cage. Outside of the ring, she saw black bleacher-stands rising up like a concert hall. Two doors, also made of the same metal bars, provided the only access in or out of the cage. One door sat directly opposite her and the other at her back.
She turned slowly to face Neil. “What the hell is this?”
Neil strolled around the perimeter of the cage, running his fingers along one of the bars. “This is a local underground fighting arena. That wonderful odor you’re smelling is from last night’s fight.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Scar, I have to make sure you have the right stuff to do this. I’ve invested a lot in you. If you can do this, then you are ready.”
She looked around again, seeing only the bars and the bare concrete floor. “So, what? You want me to escape?”
“No. The cage itself is not your test. I’ll open it and let you out as soon as you’re done.” He reached the far side of the arena and disappeared into the shadows.
He reappeared a few seconds later. Neil opened the other cage door and let it swing wide. Then he reached back into the hidden crevices of the stands and pulled something.
A figure stumbled out of the darkness. Propelled by Neil’s hard shove, he stumbled into the arena and fell to the floor. The door slammed behind him.
Scarlett didn’t move. She watched the third person move slowly and get up.
Ratty, blond hair tumbled over the new arrival’s filthy shoulders. He looked up and revealed a hollowed and sickly face splotched with sores and bruises. His hands trembled with the need for a fix.
“Neil, no.” Her voice was only a whisper.
Neil walked back around and stood next to Scarlett’s door. From behind his back, he produced a nine-millimeter pistol. He set it on the ground and kicked it into the ring.
“This is your final test.”
Chapter 18
The Test
People are never who they appear to be.
* * *
Scarlett stared at the gun at her feet. “Neil. What the hell is this?”
“This is your first job.”
She looked back over at the young man on the other side of the arena. He stood, wavering slightly. His gaze was distant as he absently scratched at a sore on his arm.
He can’t be more than seventeen.
“But he’s just an innocent kid. I don’t know him!”
Neil laughed. “He’s the job. You are being hired to kill him. Actually, I am, but I’m assigning it to you. Kill him, and you get paid.”
“Paid? That’s not what I signed up for.”
The boy looked around.
“Scarlett, what the hell did you think this was about? That I would train you for some petty vengeance? Oh, no. That would be an incredible waste of my time and your talents. You are a killer, born and bred.”
She shook her head and stepped back. “No. Only Derrick. It’s only Derrick.”
Neil laughed again. “You actually think you can get in and kill Derrick and no one else? Stealth is one thing, but he lives in a fortress. You’re going to have to leave a trail of bodies.”
“Still... That’s different.”
“No. No, it’s not. Those guards will have girlfriends, boyfriends, spouses and children. This...” He pointed to the target. “This is your reality now. You are a killer. You’ve done it once, now do it again. Finish the job and we can talk about Derrick.”
She reached down and picked up the gun. The man at the other end of the arena froze, his gaze locked on the weapon in her hand. She looked at him then down to the weapon. “Why? Why him?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s the job. If you want to be safe, you have to be able to do the job.”
Her voice was soft. “The job.” Am I really going to do this? He’s just a kid. Why him, it makes no sense. Safe...
She lifted the weapon. The sights centered on the boy’s face.
He shook his head and stepped back. “No... Please. Don’t do this. C’mon man...”
Neil’s voice came from behind, smooth and confident. “Finish the job, Scarlett.”
Scarlett breathed in as much as her lungs would hold then let it flow from her lips in one long exhale. The target’s eyes settled on either side of the front sight post. Her finger squeezed against the trigger. The cool metal resisted her pull.
I can’t.
She flipped the safety on with her thumb and tossed the weapon aside. The metal grated along the concrete as it skidded out of the arena.
“No.”
Neil’s quiet voice dripped with anger. “What do you mean ‘No’? Do you think I’ve screwed around this whole time just for you to chicken out like a little bitch, just because you have to get rid of some piece of garbage?”
“I said no. I won’t kill this kid. I don’t know him. He’s not the one who tried to kill me.”
“He’s not the...” Neil’s words trailed off. “Fine.”
The trainer picked up the gun and stalked away. He shoved the gun back into his waistband and followed the perimeter of the cage. When he reached the far door, he stopped.
“Hey, man...” The addict suddenly became aware of his presence and turned to him. “Hey...C’mon, man. Let me out... please? I won’t tell no one, I swear!”
Neil pulled out a gun and kicked it under the bars. “Kill her and I’ll let you go.”
“What? Aw, hey man... no way.” The addict stumbled back and waved Neil off. “I ain’t killin’ nobody, bro.”
“I’ll give you ten thousand dollars to kill her.”
&nbs
p; “You’re crazy, man.”
“Five thousand now, and five more when she’s dead.” Neil pulled a roll of cash from his pocket. “How much flash can you get with this?”
The addict’s eyes widened. He drooled at the sight of the money. He reached forward and took a half-step.
“Neil, what the hell are you doing?” Scarlett yelled from the other end of the arena.
“Sorry, Scar. But you lost your turn. Only one of you can walk out of here. If it’s not gonna be you, it’s gonna be him.”
The sickly man reached for the money. Just as his fingers were about to touch it, Neil pulled it back.
“What the...? Hey man!”
Neil held the money up for the other to see. “You want this? Pick up the gun.”
The other man looked down at the gun then over to Scarlett. She saw the pain in his eyes, the pain of his addiction, of the decision he was making.
He reached down and his fingers closed around the metal grip. His gaze locked with Scarlett’s. “I’m sorry.” He lifted the weapon.
She looked over to her trainer. “Neil, don’t do this. It’s not necessary.” She kept her voice calm despite the mental alarms screaming at her to move.
“Yes. It is.”
Scarlett stared down the barrel of the gun. From its angle, she estimated the bullet’s path to her own midsection. “What’s your name?”
The addict’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head. “Huh?”
“What’s your name? If you’re going to kill me, I should at least get to know your name.”
“Chaz. Everyone calls me Chaz.”
“Okay, Chaz.”
Chaz’s head turned as if he was afraid of the weapon in his own hand. He extended the gun another few inches. His grip was unsure and his arm wavered.
C’mon Chaz, keep it together. Don’t go too wild on me.
She watched the gun like it was a cobra, swaying back and forth. The hypnotic movement lasted only a second but held her in place.
The inside of the gun’s barrel flashed with a green glow. Instincts flared and she twisted to the side. The shot rang out and echoed through the arena. But it was not the sound of a bullet. It was the sizzle of a plasma round.
Scarlett turned around to see a cross section of the cage’s bars formed into a ball of drooping slag. “NEIL! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Oh shit. Oh shit. What was that? What the hell was that, man?” Chaz dropped the weapon and jumped back.
Neil laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think I gave him this?” He pulled another gun from behind his back.
From her vantage point, Scarlett could not tell the difference between the two weapons.
“You see, I couldn’t very well give him the nine-mil I gave you. That wouldn’t be fair. Not with your body suit on.”
Scarlett shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Chaz. Pick up the gun.”
“No way, man. That thing’s insane. What the hell is it?”
Neil stepped closer to the boy and leaned against the bars. “Chaz? Chaz. Listen to me.”
The addict looked back and forth between Neil and the gun.
“Chaz, it’s a plasma pistol. It’s military grade. It won’t hurt you as long as you’re the one holding it. Now pick it up.”
“Nuh-uh, man. You never said anything about no plasma gun. How do I know that thing won’t blow up on me? That’s crazy shit.”
Scarlett watched the two go back and forth. She stepped sideways, inching closer along the edge of the cage.
“Fine. Alright Chaz. Twenty thousand. Now kill her.”
Chaz stared at the gun. Scarlett could see the pressure of what Neil was asking him to do on his face. Slowly, the young man bent down and picked up the plasma pistol. He looked at the weapon then up to Scarlett. “No... I can’t.”
In one, smooth motion, Neil pulled the carriage back on the nine-mil, reached through the bars and put the barrel to Chaz’s head. “Chaz? Listen closely. If you don’t kill her now, I’m going to pull this trigger and decorate the floor with your brains. Do you understand me?”
Chaz nodded. As he lifted his arm, the gun hung limp in his hand. Scarlett continued to step slowly around the cage, getting closer and closer to Neil and Chaz. The barrel lifted and pointed at her heart.
Neil pressed the gun harder against Chaz’s temple. “Chaz? I don’t have all day.”
Now or never.
The boy’s hand gripped the gun tighter. His hand was steadier this time. She watched his finger twitch and pull back on the trigger. Scarlett twisted to the side and launched herself forward.
The plasma round zipped by her head, singeing a few stray hairs. She ignored the searing blast and pushed her legs harder with each step. Her hands reached Chaz before he could react and shoot again.
Scarlett thrust up and wrenched the weapon from him. She spun around and brought her elbow across his cheek. His limp body started falling to the floor, but she shoved her open hand into his chest and slammed him into the concrete.
She exhaled sharply and stared down at the unconscious Chaz. Her knee held one arm down while she straddled his chest. The plasma pistol was firmly in her grip, pressed against his temple.
Instinct fueled her rage. Staring down at his closed eyes, she felt her finger pull against the trigger. Muscle memory told her to squeeze the last two millimeters.
Her mind said no.
Scarlett flung herself off the young man. She stood and walked over to the door and Neil. She watched the unconscious figure as she stepped over him. “You sick bastard. I’m not killing an innocent man.”
Scarlett emptied the chamber and took out the magazine. “You can keep this. I’m done.”
She glared at Neil, challenging him. With her jaw set, she felt a few stray red hairs twitch against her cheek. Movement behind her and the glint of metal reflected in Neil’s eyes. Scarlett twisted to the side, letting the molecule-edged hyperblade slice through her suit coat, but not her side. Her left arm flew up and shattered Chaz’s elbow.
The blade fell from his hand. Scarlett, still in motion, spun around behind him and wrapped her arms around his head. Before she realized what she was doing, her limbs wrenched hard to the side. Chaz’s neck gave a sickening crack.
In slow motion, she watched him collapse to the ground. This time, she knew he would not get up.
Metal clanged and the arena door swung open. “I suppose I can call that a success.”
“Screw you.”
Neil walked over, picked up the plasma pistol and the hyperblade. He shoved the pistol into his waistband and the blade into an empty sheath he’d kept hidden under his coat. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“I have someone who wants to meet you.”
She was in a fog. She’d done it again. She’d killed another human being. Her mind would not let her fully grasp what had just happened. “Who?”
“You’ll see.”
Scarlett stumbled then turned around to Chaz’s body. “You just going to leave him?”
Neil strolled out of the cage, keeping his back to her. “Yep.”
Chapter 19
A Job
Memories, flittering on the edge of recollection. I don’t trust them. But then, I don’t really trust reality anymore either.
* * *
Scarlett stared at the man sitting before her. The instant she saw him, she remembered that she knew him. She knew him before she was called Scarlett, though she wasn’t sure how.
The man stared back at her. He reclined against the railing of the bleachers. His left hand held a smoldering cigar. A trail of blueish smoke drifted in eddies above the embers and danced across the shafts of light peeking through the painted windows. He exhaled and sent a waft of the tobacco to her. “Do you remember me?”
Neil stood back, waiting for her response to the man’s question.
All of Scarlett’s flashbacks so far had been very physical. She didn’t just remember
the memories, she experienced them. This one was different. She inhaled the scent of the cigar and knew.
Blind muscle memory took over. She spun around behind Neil and pulled the nine-mil from his waistband. Scarlett continued to move, stepping sideways. The cigar-man’s forehead never strayed from her front sight post.
“Who the hell are you?”
Neil stepped back. The reloaded plasma pistol appeared in his hand, targeted on Scarlett’s head. “Scar, what are you doing? Put the gun down.”
“Neil, who is this guy? I know him. I met him the night I was raped and killed.”
“Yes. Yes you did, my dear.” More smoke poured from the man’s mouth, matching his raspy voice.
The scratchy sounds of his words resurrected lost memories of the inside of a limousine and a crystal glass half-filled with a brown liquid.
“It’s alright, Mr. Smithson. Please lower your weapon. She will not shoot me.”
Neil’s weapon dipped a little. He looked at cigar-man then back to Scarlett and finally lowered his arms.
“You so sure about that? Because, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me who you are, I’m going to put this bullet through your skull. Are you working with Derrick?”
He took a puff from his cigar. “My name is Lawrence Collier. And, in a sense, I do work with Mr. Martins, however...”
Scarlett shifted her stance and reaffirmed her grip on the gun.
“However,” Mr. Collier continued. “I had nothing to do with what happened to you that night. In fact, that night is part of the reason I am here. I am here to help, not threaten you.”
“The fact that you even know I’m here is a threat to me and my family. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t give your brain a little room to breathe.”
“I can assure you, Ms. McAdams, I mean you no harm, and your family is safe.”
She made a small step to the side, away from Neil. “Don’t call me that. Jillian McAdams is dead.
“Fair enough.”
“Tell me why the hell you’re here.”
He puffed on his cigar again. “Well, to put it bluntly... to offer you a job.”
Scarlett laughed. “I’m sorry... Did you say ‘a job’?”
