by Ally Thomas
“Ashton, slow down. Do you know for certain Steve is abusing her again,” I asked. I knew Lynn’s past with her on again, off again boyfriend Steve. He was a waste of space and had a big drinking problem, but I didn’t want to harm him for no reason. I wanted to make sure.
Grace grimaced at me and stabbed her finger at the phone. “It’s true. It’s true,” she hissed.
I motioned for her to be quiet. “Hold on,” I whispered.
Ashton sighed over the phone. The sound of steam coming from one of my mother’s tea kettles filled the phone’s connection. Finally, he responded, “I have proof if you want it.”
Grace’s eyes flashed and she yelped. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to remain quiet.
I nodded to her and, for a moment, put my hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” I mouthed the words silently.
Ashton continued, “I started recording our calls a month ago when I realized she was probably in danger. I have them all on my phone. I can email you the clip from the other night.”
Grace fist pumped the air with her hand and I grinned at her. We both knew Steve’s tendency towards violence.
“That would be great, Ashton. Thank you,” I replied.
“Anything I can do to help. Hey, by the way, how are you? It’s great to hear your voice, Rayea. Are you okay?” he asked.
The concern in his voice startled me. We had not really broken up, but after I had gone missing and everyone presumed I was dead, he and Lynn had started dating. Standing there in the alley now and thinking back to a memory of our making love on a stack of wooden crates in China Town, I nearly blushed. Ashton had been my summer romance, a time in my life when I had been carefree and frivolous. Those days seemed so long ago. I was happy he had found someone like Lynn. Steve did not deserve Lynn, but Ashton did.
“If we can get Lynn away from Steve, I think I’ll be okay. I’m sorry she broke up with you. I hope you guys can make up.”
“Me too,” he said.
“When you get back from New Zealand, look us up. Okay, Ashton?” Grace added.
“I’ll do that Grace. Certainly. You guys can come to the movie premiere too.”
“That would be great,” I said, winking at Grace, and then pointing to the phone to see if we could end the call and be on our way.
“And if you need to smack Steve around some, that’s fine by me.”
Grace laughed out loud and I grinned at her while I held the phone between us.
“Oh, count on it, Ashton,” I replied. “We’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” I followed up, quoting one of his favorite movies, The Godfather.
“Yes,” he yelled with delight. “Thank you both! I’ll email that info to you right now. I’ve got to get back to work. Let me know when she’s safe. Okay?”
“Okay,” I replied before ending the call.
***
As the sun set behind the Transamerica Pyramid building on Montgomery Street, the tallest skyscraper in San Francisco and just outside of the entrance to China Town, Grace showed me the apartment where Steve and Lynn were staying. We stood across the street from a popular bar I had frequented in the past, Vesuvio’s. The area was extremely populated and not a spot to set any building on fire if the opportunity arose. I did not realize Steve lived above the bar because Lynn had never told me. She did not like talking about her relationship with the guy.
“He lives upstairs. How do you think we can get in and get her out?” Grace asked me. She was already processing a plan of escape for Lynn.
We were about to cross the street and sneak around to the alley behind the bar when Steve walked out of Vesuvio’s.
Grace lurched forward, but I grabbed her by the shoulder. “Wait, let’s be sensible,” I said, pulling her behind a large tree growing in a planter on the sidewalk where we could be hidden. I handed her a vial of blood. She watched as I drank my vial. The rush of the blood of the gods rolled over me in rapid waves of satisfaction. It was a feeling I still could not get used to. I reached out for the tree to steady myself and breathed in deeply. Slow and easy now.
“It’s okay. Go ahead,” I said.
She took the vial and drank the contents as well. “Holy shit, that’s strong!”
I grabbed her when she almost sank to her knees.
Immediately, she recovered and looked at me. Her bright green eyes, same as mine, flashed and gleamed.
Once the light in her eyes returned to normal, I shared with her my plan of attack.
“We’re going to be nice and casual about this. We’ll just walk up to the door and let ourselves in. I don’t want to kill this guy unless we absolutely have to. Not by flames. No flames at all. We’ll burn the whole block down and I don’t think we want that. It’s got to be some other way.”
Grace nodded. “No biting either,” she added. “He looks drunk.”
“Agreed,” I added as we watched Steve climb the stairs next to the bar. Clearly, he had been drinking because he staggered up the steps. “You’re right,” I said to Grace as we observed him. “We don’t want his blood in our system.”
“Can we knock him out maybe?”
“That might work. I hope Lynn’s there in the apartment. Let’s see if just knocking him out will work. But our number one priority is to get Lynn and leave. Okay?”
“Deal,” Grace said.
When I heard my phone chime, I realized that must be Ashton’s email. “Grace, wait.”
We listened to the recorded phone conversation.
“Who are you talking to?!”
“Look, Ashton, I have to go. Have a great life, okay?”
“Lynn, wait. Wait! Don’t hang up.”
“Who is that? Who are you talking to? Give me the phone!
“Who is this? Who are you? You can’t talk to my girlfriend, you fuck!”
“You hear me? You fuck! I know who you are.
“You leave her alone. She doesn’t love you!”
“I’ll kill him,” Grace said as she stepped out onto the street, headed to Steve’s apartment above the bar.
Chapter 20
Lynn’s Notebook
***
“We are here it seems, to be transformed, and transformed again, and again and again.”
~ Michael Cunningham
***
October 31st. Apartment.
I need a miracle.
I’m surrounded by chaos and insanity. Steve has gone bonkers. Drinking. Drinking. Drinking. And more drinking. I can’t believe it. And the friends. Oh my god, his new friends are nuts. I really should get out of here. It’s no longer safe. It really isn’t.
“Be quiet in there. I can hear you scribbling. Stop it!” Steve yells.
“Yes, dear. Anything you say, dear. Can I get you another drink?”
“No! Shut up! I have plenty. Nathan is sending over another case. T will deliver it soon. Just shut up. I’m trying to concentrate! They like it when I sing to them.”
I have decided to let Steve drink himself to death. Since it is Halloween, he has started early. If he passes out soon, maybe I can sneak out. The front door is the only way out now. He has barred up all the windows. Since we are on the second floor, it doesn’t matter. I have to escape by the stairs. Even the emergency exit has been shut off. That happened the night he brought his pets home. His new lover he calls her, his pet snake, Dandy, an albino boa constrictor. I can’t stand to watch him with it. I hear things now and again when he handles them, but I can’t open the door. When he’s gone, the door remains locked.
“If I charm her, Nathan said I can keep her. I can keep all of them,” Steve yells again.
“That’s nice, honey,” I reply, hearing his voice from the other room. I don’t know what he’s thinking. Who can charm a snake? Maybe it’ll bite him and I’ll be able to throw both him and his dead snake off the balcony.
This stupidity has got to stop. At least the beatings aren’t as frequent as they were. He is too busy with his snakes.
I am happy about that. I guess it’s not so bad. I should have known I could not be friends with the likes of Rayea and Grace. Steve is right. They are out of my league and that’s fine. But I don’t want friends like Steve’s. Pot heads who get high and handle snakes. I’m fine in my room when that shit starts up. I don’t think it’s very nice to blow smoke in an animal’s face either, even if it is a slimy snake. Oh well.
Chapter 21
Grace’s Diary
***
“When I was 16... I worked in a pet store. And they fired me because... they had three snakes in there, and one day I braided them.” ~ Steven Wright
***
I was ready to spit fire the moment Rayea shape-shifted into a cloud of mist and eased under the door of Steve’s apartment. If there were any way I could get my hands around Steve’s neck, I’d kill him for sure. Rayea’s shape-shifting powers amazed me and I wanted to learn how to achieve them.
She unlatched the door and swung it open. Motioning for me to be quiet, she let me in. It didn’t take us long to find Steve. He was sprawled out on the living room floor, dead. A pile of snakes, about a dozen were slipping and sliding over him, biting him again and again, even though his face and extremities had ballooned up and turned blue.
“Looks like Steve is no longer an issue,” I said to Rayea.
She laughed. “Looks like it. Check the rooms and see if you can find her.”
“Lynn! Lynn!” I called. As I turned to search down the hallway for Lynn, Rayea began killing the snakes. I heard the zap and pop of a fireball whiz and zing as she targeted the head of each snake. “Better throw some water on em when you are done,” I announced.
“Will do,” she yelled back.
“I’m here. Here!”
When I heard Lynn’s cries behind the last door at the end of the hall, I tried the doorknob. I pressed my ear to the door. “Lynn, are you okay? It’s me, Grace. Rayea and I are here to get you.”
“Where’s Steve?” she shouted back through the door.
“Dead on the living room floor.”
“Excellent,” she sang. “Get me out of here!”
Chapter 22
The Walking Dead (Rayea)
***
“I don't think anyone wants to cuddle a zombie.” ~ Norman Reedus
***
When Lynn and Grace returned to the living room, I was overjoyed to see Lynn. I gave her a huge hug and she started crying.
“I never thought I’d see you again!” she exclaimed.
Grace and I shared a smile and I took Lynn’s hand. “I’m sorry about Steve. He was dead when we got here.”
“Oh fuck that idiot. I’m the moron. I should never have gone back to him. He deserves what he got. I’ve got to call Ashton as soon as I can and tell him about this!”
A knock at the door got our attention. Lynn jumped, and then spun around to face us. “That’s Steve’s friend. He’s gonna see him dead. What do we do?” she asked.
“Don’t answer the door,” Grace suggested. “Maybe he’ll go away.”
When the phone rang, Grace and I jerked our heads up. I motioned for Lynn and Grace both to be quiet. The answering machine clicked on.
“Hey Steve, this is T. I’m leaving your case of wine on the top step here. Bring it in when you get home. I don’t have your key. Later.”
The answering machine went silent.
Grace’s eyes widened and she stood paralyzed by Lynn.
“Grace, what’s wrong,” I asked. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
“T, I know that guy T. He’s one of the ones. He’s one of Nathan’s friends who used to cut me up.”
Lynn reached out and hugged her. “He’s a new friend of Steve’s. Something about wine some guy has been giving away.”
“What wine?” Grace asked. She went to the door and retrieved the large box that was outside.
“Steve’s been guzzling it down. I can’t stand the stuff. It tastes like ass.” Lynn snagged a pair of scissors from the kitchen counter as Grace sat the box on the tile counter, next to her.
“Here, I’ll show you the bottle. It’s a weird looking label. A laughing skeleton with a top hat. Something about the devil. I have no idea where he got this shit.” Lynn produced a bottle for Grace and handed one to me as well.
I nearly dropped it. The shock of what I was looking at slammed me in the face.
“Devilish Beasts? Who names a wine Devilish Beasts?” Grace asked.
When she saw the stunned expression on my face, she knew the answer.
“My father,” I replied. As I stepped over a few remaining dead snakes on the living room floor, I pointed to the door. “Let’s get out of here, ladies. I need to call Blick.”
Suddenly I heard a moan behind me. The sound sent a chill down my spine. I glanced over at Lynn and Grace who were equally frozen in their footsteps, inches near the door. “What’s behind me?” I asked as I paused by the couch and leaned against it.
“Steve,” Lynn whispered.
“That’s not Steve,” Grace uttered. “That’s Zombie Steve, back from the dead.”
“Get out of here now!” I yelled, falling on the ground because someone or some thing had tackled me.
Neither one of them listened to me. They rushed from the door. Grace ran into the kitchen and Lynn vanished down the hallway. I flipped over on my back and faced the creature pinning me to the ground. Steve with blood pooling in his savage, vacant eyes screeched at me. He pounded his fists against my chest and groaned loudly as he tried to grab me. I had seen zombies on television and in the movies before but never anything like this. His face bubbled and steamed. The flesh split apart and then sealed itself together again. Green mucus dripped from his mouth and his eyes spun upwards into his head, one time they blurred white, lifeless, the next time completely black like an alien from the X-Files, and then finally blood red again with the iris showing. His body seemed to be fighting a transformation of some kind as if it couldn’t decide what ending result it wanted to become. I thought of the movie, The Thing and fear crept into my heart. I pushed the fear down. I was not going to let this creature hurt any of us. We had to destroy it.
Grace and Lynn slammed Zombie Steve over the head with several objects. I got hit a time or two with a flying flowerpot and then a book. Finally, I yelled at them to stop. “Grace, grab him by the elbows, pull him off of me. Lynn, get back. Now!”
They did as I ordered. Thankfully. I sighed and evaluated the situation. Grace held Steve as he thrashed and attempted to lunge towards me. His face had stopped convulsing. He seemed obsessed with getting over to me. He didn’t focus on anyone else but me. Great, I thought.
“You got him?” I asked Grace.
“Yes,” she replied. “I think he’s weakening.”
“Good,” I said as I walked over to the case of wine. I retrieved a bottle and waved it at Zombie Steve. “You want this?”
He roared again, thrashing violently again against Grace.
Quickly I began to figure out what was going on and what my father had unleashed on the world. He had to be the one behind the production of this wine.
“Lynn, take each one of the wine bottles and throw them over the balcony. Make sure you smash each one, okay?”
“Got it,” she replied and zoomed over to the counter.
“Grace.”
“Yeah?”
“Rip his arms off. I’m gonna find some rope to tie around his neck. We’ll need to burn him in the back alley.”
“Can do!” she exclaimed.
Zombie Steve roared in anguish as Grace applied her foot to his back, pulling his left arm off, and then his right.
I yanked down the curtain rod, unlaced the cord from the drapes, and made a leash for Zombie Steve.
Lynn ran back and forth from the kitchen to the sliding glass door of the balcony. “This is right out of The Walking Dead,” she sang out.
“The what?” I asked.
Grace laughed as she held Zombie
Steve still for me. “You need to catch up on your television shows, Rayea. You have missed a lot in the past year. Hey Lynn, what do you think of Daryl? Isn’t he hot for a redneck?”
“Oh my god, isn’t he? That man is my kind of zombie killer!” she laughed. Lynn’s laughter filled the apartment. Her voice sounded like a chipmunk when she was elated and totally high on life. I had always loved to hear Lynn laugh. With the curtain cord leash, I pulled on Zombie Steve and led him toward the door. Grace followed, keeping her hands on his neck so he could not bite either of us.
“Hey Rayea, stop a second. This isn’t going to work.”
“What? I asked Grace as she grabbed the bottom of Zombie Steve’s jaw and pulled it open. “Punch him right here on the side of his mouth please.”
“Good idea,” I replied when I understood what she wanted me to do. I slammed my fist into Zombie Steve’s jaw and his mouth busted apart.
“He can’t bite us without a jaw.”
“A trick you learned from watching your zombie show?” I asked as we walked through the door, Zombie Steve in tow.
“Yup,” she replied. “This won’t look weird at all.”
“What?” I asked as we walked slowly descended the stairs.
“Leading a zombie around on a leash.”
“Great Halloween costume. Very trendy,” Lynn called down to us. “Let me pack a few things and I’ll meet you in the alley.”
Chapter 23
The Devil’s Reply (Satan)
***
“If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?” ~ William Shakespeare
