by Jamie Zakian
Chapter Thirty
Cries of terror lured Sasha into darkness. She slid her hands along damp, rocky walls as she stumbled down a tight hallway. The wails that echoed around her didn’t belong here, in this passageway of dirt and stone walls. It was a child, sobbing and screaming for help. It was Tyler.
She slipped on puddles of blood as she ran, banging on locked metal doors. The weeping drifted farther away with every step she took. She couldn’t find him. Her son was trapped inside one of these cells, sitting in a corner, his tiny body picked apart by rats.
“Tyler!” Sasha screamed.
There were a million doors in this hall that never ended. They wouldn’t open, and she could no longer hear her child’s cries. The dim lights above her flickered. Someone seized her arms, shaking the world into a blur.
“Tyler!” Sasha sat up, and the narrow passageway of crumbling stone faded to the gleam of white walls.
“It’s okay.”
Dez’s voice sent a spike of panic into Sasha’s heart. If he was with her, who was with Tyler? She grabbed onto Dez’s shirt, pulling him close. “Tyler! I didn’t check the other cells. He’s down there! I left him down there.” She pushed the blankets aside, scooting to the edge of the bed.
“No,” Dez said. He tried to push Sasha back against the pillows, but she wiggled from his grip. Her feet hit soft carpet, and her legs gave out. She braced for hard floor, but landed in soft arms.
“Tyler’s safe,” Dez said, cradling her on the floor like a baby. “He’s downstairs with Vinny, playing board games.”
“Are you sure?” She clung to Dez, wrinkling his shirt with her crushing grip.
“Yeah.”
His gaze carried such certainty. It allowed Sasha’s fingers to unclench, letting her stiff muscles sag.
“You want me to get him?” Dez asked.
Sasha turned toward the door, catching her reflection in the wide window. That couldn’t be her. The person in the glass, with clumps of blood tangled in their hair and a face-full of gashes, looked like a monster. “No! I’ll scare the fuck out of him.”
“I never told him, that you…died.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three months, one week, and six days.” Dez glided his hand along Sasha’s cheek, light and gentle. “That’s how long it’s been since I held you in my arms, before yesterday.”
“Three months?” It seemed much shorter, and longer, at the same time.
“You said something about a cell?”
Sasha shrank down. The layer of dried blood on her body pulled at her skin, dropping flakes to the white carpet. She looked at the bed, the sheets smeared in red. Everywhere she went she left a trail of death, ruining the sparkle of this lavish room.
“I have to get this blood off me.” She reached for her hair, yanking her hand away at the feel of dried clumps. “It’s everywhere, on everything.”
“I’ll run you a bath.” Dez helped Sasha off the floor, guiding her toward the bed.
Although her legs wobbled and her feet burned, she didn’t sit. She had already fucked up those clean white blankets enough.
“Are you hungry?” Dez called out from the bathroom, over the rush of running water. “There’s some food on the nightstand.”
Sasha looked at the sandwiches spread along a silver tray. Real food, with colors other than gray. Just as she touched a soft roll, images of shoving slop in her mouth beamed into her mind. She jolted back, curling her fingers into her crusty hair. “Stop.” She banged her palms against her head, but the memories wouldn’t stop streaming through her mind. “Stop!”
A gasp drew Sasha’s gaze to Dez, frozen in the middle of the room. It looked like he’d totally forgotten a monster was standing beside his bed. Dude must be freaking out, and her crazy ass wasn’t helping. Anything she said right now would come out as babbles of insanity, so she kept her mouth closed and her eyes low as she limped toward the bathroom.
“Let me help you.” Dez rushed to Sasha’s side and she pushed him away, closing the bathroom door on his tortured eyes.
The cuts on her face, chucks torn from her arms, were nothing compared to the damage her cot must’ve done to her body. Dez shouldn’t have to see that. She’d probably lose him forever if he saw that.
While avoiding the mirror, window, and every other surface that seemed to reflect her image, Sasha stripped off her shirt.
***
Dez
Dez paced in front of the bathroom door. He couldn’t stand to have Sasha out of his sight. It had been ten minutes since she shut herself in the bathroom, which was ten too many. A little peek. He just needed a little peek.
In near silence, he turned the knob. The door cracked open, and he looked inside. A tall tub nearly swallowed Sasha up. Her mauled arm hung over the gold-rimmed side, sending pink drops to splash the tile below. She didn’t notice him. Her stare was stuck to the wall in front of her, body completely still in red-tinted water as her lips slowly moved. Dez shut the door, taking a deep breath. A wave of tears rose inside his eyes, pushing for release. What a despicable piece of shit he was. He should be in there, washing the crap from her hair. Someone had to clean her, but someone had to clean the bed for her.
Dez ripped the sheet off the mattress, pulling cases off pillows. Any trace of gore should be gone before Sasha emerged. It would make her all better, to have everything fresh and clean. While fitting a new sheet on the bed, Dez spotted the wide red stain on the white carpet.
“Fuck!” He dropped to his knees, rubbing at the bright mark with a soiled pillowcase. The mess only spread, growing brighter the harder he scrubbed. “No, no.”
A light knock rattled the bedroom door as it opened. Vinny poked his head inside, looked straight at the empty bed, then barged inside.
“Everything all right?”
“No.” Dez looked up from the stain on the rug and a tear escaped, gliding down his cheek. He lifted his hand to wipe his face, stopping at the sight of blood. “She’s fucked up, man,” Dez sputtered, staring at Sasha’s blood on his hands. “I’ve never seen her so broken. She’s just sitting in the tub, in her own filth, talking to herself. I don’t know what to do, say.”
Vinny knelt down, patting Dez on the back.
“You go in there,” Dez blurted, pointing at the bathroom.
“What?” Vinny said, leaning back.
“She needs help. Every time I see the cuts on her body, I get so angry. It’s scaring her, shutting her down.”
“I, uh…” Vinny rose to his feet, staring at the bathroom door. “You want me to go in there?”
Dez nodded, unable to hide his pleading eyes. He didn’t give a fuck anymore. He’d share Sasha with his brother if it meant getting her back to the real Sasha.
Vinny inched around the bloodstain on the carpet and headed for the bathroom. A light knock, the creak of a door’s hinges, and his brother crept into the room where the ghost of his wife sat. Dez gathered up the dirty linens, eyeing the stain on his way to the hall. That fucking blotch was getting a gallon of bleach.
***
Vinny
Vinny walked with heavy steps, hoping to announce his presence. It wasn’t working. Sasha didn’t look away from the wall she’d been staring at. He stepped beside the tub, cringing. The amount of fleshy chunks floating in the dark red water was enough to twist his stomach, and he’d seen some fucked up shit.
While kneeling beside the tub, Vinny placed his hand on Sasha’s shoulder. She jumped to the side, splashing bloody water to the floor.
“Vinny,” Sasha said breathlessly.
She lifted her hand from the water. Large hunks of flesh were missing from her fingertips, bones showing in places. When her scabbed fingers ran along his cheek, he had to force his body not to cringe.
“I remember your face,” she said, with the slightest hint of a smile on her swollen lips.
“I remember your face too.” Vinny poked Sasha on the nose, which got him a semi-smirk. He yearn
ed to bombard her with hugs and kisses, but she’d probably gotten enough of that pansy shit from Dez.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling the plug from the drain.
“Okay.”
Vinny kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Sasha asked, clinging to the tub’s edge as the murky water drained away.
“There’s no way I can do this from out here. Your hair’s a wreck.” He turned on the showerhead before dropping his pants.
“But Dez.”
“Fuck Dez. The amount of time he’s spent with you isn’t even enough to fill a page. We’ve been best friends since we were nine.” Vinny held out his hand, and Sasha’s palm slid in it. Although her every limb trembled, she stood tall with her chin high.
Vinny only stole glances at Sasha’s mutilated body. The shreds of dangling flesh on her knees, that giant bruise on her stomach, all the wide gashes running along her sides were barely noticeable. At least, that’s what he wanted her to think. Hence the poker face.
“I knew that wasn’t you in the alley.” Vinny climbed into the tub, closing its curtain around them. “I’ve studied every curve of your ass, could spot it in the dark.”
The roughness of Sasha’s skin as it brushed against him incited the urge to flee, but he held steady. She fell against him, resting her head on his chest. It took a second, but he wrapped his arms around her torn flesh.
“God, I missed you,” Sasha said, squeezing Vinny with shaky hands.
Words could never express the depths of anguish he’d experienced in her absence. He was used to missing her, but this time had been different.
Sasha pulled back from Vinny’s embrace. Her gaze drifted down to his giant hard-on, then up into his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away from her cheeky stare. “I can’t help it.”
“Yeah.”
That smirk on her lips was too cute. He’d kiss her, if he weren’t scared shitless of breaking her like a china plate. Softly, Vinny backed Sasha under the flow of water. Bits of brain and pieces of skull fell to his feet, clogging the drain. It took half a bottle of shampoo, but he finally got her hair passable for clean.
“I’m gonna need one hell of a comb to fix this mess,” Vinny said, wringing out her long, tangled hair.
“Just cut it all off,” she muttered, shivering despite the warm water showering down on her.
“Fuck that! I’ll get it straightened out good and proper.”
The strength in Sasha’s grip faded and her hands slid off Vinny’s chest, flopping against her sides.
“Should I—”
“I’m good,” Sasha said, pushing her legs to stand taller.
He should scoop her up, carry her off to some secret place where no one could find them. A tropical island. They’d lie on soft white sand, soak in the sun’s rays as warm water rushed in to tickle their toes. Fuck yeah. All that shit was going to happen. The moment she was strong enough to put up a fight, that’s when he’d sweep her away.
***
Dez
Dez stood over the kitchen sink, scrubbing the blood off his hands. Dish soap didn’t clean for shit. A pink tinge still stained his fingertips, painted his nails. He grabbed a Brilo pad, scouring his skin with steel wool. Over his grunts, and the rush of water, he heard nothing. No clank of toys echoed from the living room, giggles weren’t flowing over the television’s blast. That usually meant Tyler was doing something really fucking bad.
Dez shut the faucet, turning to find Otis beside him.
“Fuck!” Dez yelled, jumping back.
“Sorry, man,” Otis said, leaning against the counter. “I thought you heard me come in. Tyler hollered for ya.”
“The water was running.” Dez snatched a dishtowel from the rack, drying his hands.
“What happened here?” Otis asked, gesturing to the pinkish splatters on the counter.
“Nothing.” Dez wiped the countertop, chucking the towel in a corner. “She…popped some stitches.”
“Who, Daddy?”
Dez looked over Otis’s shoulder as Tyler walked into the kitchen, holding a guitar almost twice his size.
“Whatcha got there, little man?”
“Uncle Otis brought it for me. Isn’t it freakin awesome! There’s a video. I’m gonna go practice.”
“Language,” Dez shouted as Tyler trotted off. Otis chuckled, earning a harsh glare. “A guitar?”
“You said he wanted to be a rock star.” Otis fished a joint from his front pocket, lighting it up. “So, how’s our girl doing?”
“She’s not up for visitors.”
“I am going up there.”
Otis held out the joint, but Dez didn’t take it. That man had to be fucking crazy if he thought a poorly rolled joint would get him up those stairs.
“Suit yourself,” Otis said, heading for the stairs.
“No!” Dez grabbed Otis by the arm, yanking him to a stop. “You can’t go up there now. Vinny’s up there.”
Otis shoved Dez away, narrowing his eyes. “Doing what?”
“Giving her a bath.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing that?”
“Don’t fucking start with me,” Dez roared, wincing at his own bark. He peeked over his shoulder, making sure Tyler was still plopped in front of the TV, before leaning close to Otis. “I thought it would help her, to be…alone with him.”
“I get that more than you do.” Otis draped his arm around Dez, holding out the joint. “Look, I’m going up there. You can smoke this joint, get a little buzzed, and stew about it, or you can sit here like an asshole bone-straight.”
Dez snatched the joint and squirmed away from Otis’s grasp.
“Good man,” Otis said, slapping Dez on the back.
A long stream of smoke flew from Dez’s mouth as he watched Otis climb the stairs. Everyone was running to Sasha’s side and here he was, looking for reasons to avoid her. Which reminded him, he needed to fetch clean blankets.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sasha
Sasha sat on a small couch, curled inside an oversized robe, and watched Vinny dress. It was surreal, a glimpse into a life she could’ve had. This city should be just another stop. Vinny’s antics should be her world, an open road her home. All that could’ve been, would’ve been.
What-ifs were for dreamers, and her dreams were filled with horrors. It wouldn’t have mattered what path she stumbled down. She would’ve found a way to fuck shit up.
A knock shook the bedroom door, and Sasha flinched. She searched the room for a weapon, any weapon, but all she found were crystal ashtrays and vases of flowers.
“It’s all right,” Vinny said, walking to the door. “Nobody’s getting by me, girl.” He opened the door and Otis pushed by him, strolling inside. “Well, except for him.”
“Give us a minute,” Otis said to Vinny, dipping his head to the open door.
Vinny snorted, crossed his arms, then looked at Sasha. His dramatic display was pretty adorable, for a dude. Sasha nodded, and Vinny rocked in place before storming into the hall.
“Those Archer boys are something else,” Otis said, shutting the door.
“I don’t know where I was.”
Otis froze in the middle of the room, shaking his head. “That’s not—”
“There’s no reason to go there anyway. You’ll only find corpses.”
“I just came to check on you, kiddo.” Otis sat beside Sasha, and his hand landed on her leg.
She flinched so hard, it knocked a cry from her lungs and he jerked his hand back. Although rationally she knew she was completely safe with Otis, her stupid body wouldn’t let go of the dark.
“Sorry,” Otis said, inching away. “I—”
“You’re trying to tell me you’re not dying to find out every single thing that happened to me? Who did…this?” Sasha opened her robe and Otis gasped, covering his mouth. Her eyes hadn’t experienced the burden of viewing her own body yet. Base
d on the expressions Vinny failed to hide in the shower and the shock that gripped Otis, it must be ghastly.
“Don’t you want to know?” Sasha was almost begging for his permission to let it all out. No one had asked. They didn’t want to know, become saddled with her heavy load.
Otis closed Sasha’s robe, his trembling hands cupping her cheeks. “Of course I want to know, but—”
“They locked me in a dark cell.” Sasha clutched onto Otis’s shirt, as if that could transfer her pain into his body. “They kept me dosed on LSD, told me I was Ellen.”
It all came out. Every detail she could remember tumbled from her mouth. The rats that ate her in the dark, the metal cot that ripped away her skin, how she allowed her mind to break in the shadows. Otis didn’t say a word. He just held her tight, kissed her forehead when the shivers turned to quakes. Once the entire nightmare left her brain to hang in the air, she waited. Any second now, a magic switch should click and everything would get better. Any fucking second now.
Sasha leaned back, looking Otis in the eyes. There was nothing in his stare that could piece together her shattered soul, make her whole again.
“I usually know exactly what to do, but goddamn Sasha, you really stumped me this time.”
A chuckle lifted a fraction of her pain, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. “You can start with a joint.”
Otis smiled, reaching into his pocket. “I got ya, girl.”
***
Dez
“I’m going up there,” Dez said, heading for the stairs.
“Why?” Vinny asked, hurrying to block his path. “You don’t trust Otis?”
“He’s probably up there grilling her for info, breaking her down.”
“Otis would never hurt Sasha. She’s a lot stronger than you think. You just don’t know her as well as we do.”
“I forgot,” Dez lifted his arms at his sides, backing away, “you’re the Sasha expert.”
