Betrayal: A Red Dog Thriller (The Altered Book 2)

by Blou Bryant

  Joshua nodded strident agreement. “That’s right,” he said, and put a hand on his protégée’s shoulder.

  “And you’ve been here ever since. Feeding us, clothing us, teaching us.”

  “That’s right. And you’ve been by my side the entire time. And now, Shazam will do his part.”

  With a sense of dread, Ari looked between the two men, one small, withered and in a wheelchair, the other tall, stately, with gray patrician hair and beard. “What do you mean?”

  Joshua pulled the shade to the side. “Almost everyone is gone, it’s time.”

  “I’m going to go tell them our demands. We talked and decided that we aren’t leaving until they agree. The mayor needs to come down here, the governor, the stooges of the rich and powerful. We’ll negotiate with them, not their dogs,” said Shazam.

  With a glance out the pulled shade, Ari saw that the lawn was now empty other than a crowd of police behind an array of patrol cars. They were standing around talking as if surrounding a once-abandoned house after a riot was the most natural way to spend a day.

  “Why you?” asked Ira, and Ari sensed worry in her.

  “Because I’m his right-hand man, have been all along. Because I’m in a wheelchair and they won’t shoot me.”

  “And if they do…” said Ari.

  Joshua turned back from the window. “Then he’ll be a martyr. We’ll tape it and find a way to smuggle it out. He’ll be a hero who’ll inspire millions.”

  Ari stared at the older man in horror. She sensed in him, he wanted Shazam to be shot. He wanted his martyr. “Shazam, you can’t…”

  “I can,” he said, “I have to, for all the people in this house, for all the pain I’ve endured in my life, I have to do this.”

  So many impressions flowed over Ari that she couldn’t read the situation, didn’t know or understand who was thinking what. She knew that something was wrong, but she didn’t know what it was, and she couldn’t stop it.

  Chapter 20

  Ira half glanced at her sister, sensing waves of unease and worry coming off her. She pathed her confusion, yet again, but gave up on her attempt to understand. Whatever the worry was, she was more concerned with Shazam; he was one of her only friends and was about to put his life on the line.

  Ari wouldn’t care. Alone, they’d always joked that Ari was a psychopath, the only person she cared for was herself—and by extension, her twin. It was that detachment that made her better at sensing others. Ira looked at Shazam, their faces only inches apart. With her shoulder up against his, she treasured the heat of his body and pressed closer to him. “Are you sure?”

  Shazam’s brown eyes didn’t waver, he was as confident as always. Ira returned the stare with a vain attempt to keep tears out of her eyes. He responded to her in a whisper, “Look around, if I can get some of these people out before there is further violence, isn’t that worth a bit of a risk?”

  “But I don’t want you to, I don’t understand why you’re doing this. If we’re going to fight, why do you have to go out there.” She paused, this seemed dumb. “Can’t we just call them?”

  “Phones are down,” he said gently.

  “Then put a message in a bottle and throw it out the window. Hell, let’s yell to them from here. I can do that,” she said, frustrated. Fight, if you’re going to fight. Don’t send the crippled kid out to negotiate. To Joshua, she said, “You should go, not him, and I’ll go if you’re not willing.”

  With a shake of his head and a nod to Shazam, the old man refused. “It’s been discussed and decided.”

  “They won’t hurt me,” said Shazam. “You’d kick their asses, right?”

  “I’d destroy them,” she said and leaned in to give him a kiss, not their first. They’d never been serious, but she’d always had a soft spot for him. He’d looked out for her, looked after her, and had always been ready to do whatever she wanted. He was her party buddy, and this was all too… overwhelming… for her to wrap her head around. In her dreams, she’d got Wyatt to heal him and he’d danced with her night after night, in clubs throughout the city.

  He responded to her, and the room went silent as they kissed. Eventually, Joshua interrupted by clearing his throat.

  With obvious reluctance, Shazam pulled back and gave her one last kiss on the forehead. “I gotta go, babe,” he said, helped her up off his lap, and wheeled himself to the door. Randy and the second bodyguard escorted him, both patting him on the back as Joshua let him out.

  From the window, Ira watched as he rolled down the ramp and towards the waiting police. Two men, neither uniformed, walked forward to meet him, gesturing to the others to stand down. The first was disheveled, his shoulders hunched, with a scowl on his face. The second was a big man, square but with fat around the cheeks and a roundness to his belly that said he wasn’t an athlete. He strode ahead of the other man, smiling.

  They met Shazam halfway down the sidewalk. Ira stopped holding her breath as she determined that he wasn’t going to be shot—or, it appeared—even arrested. Still tense, her augmented body was ready to jump through the window if one of them laid a hand on her friend.

  The men did nothing but talk and yet this didn’t relax her further at all, she desperately wanted to know what they were saying. A quick path to her sister got a negative response. Even with her better sensing skills, Ari wasn’t able to read anything about the situation.

  “Try…” Ira said.

  “I am,” and Ari leaned over for a hug.

  Ira pathed worry and Ari leaned back into her sister to accept the hug. “I like…”

  “… him? I know.”

  “And you…,” said Ira, and that was enough. Her sister was the rational one, was worried as well and understood what Ira was thinking.

  Ari leaned in and whispered, “Something is wrong about all this…” while pathing it as well.

  Ira shrugged. They were surrounded by police only minutes after being part of a riot. Their friend was in league with a do-gooder community organizer who wanted to start a revolution. All their friends were arrested or hostages of a group of drug dealers. With all of this, of course her sister worried.

  She kept quiet and continued to watch out the window as Shazam and the two other men talked. After five minutes Shazam shook their hands and rolled back to the house. He wasn’t smiling, but this was serious business, even a joker like him would grasp that.

  Ira pushed past Joshua to open the door well before Shazam made it back up. Defiantly, she walked outside and helped him wheel into the building. With one last angry glance outside at the police, she shut the door behind them and hugged him, hard.

  To her surprise, he brushed her off with a terse, “Not now,” and moved to Joshua. “They’ll let you clear anyone out who wants to go, and the mayor himself is coming to negotiate. But we need to get people out fast. He won’t show up if there are a hundred angry people in the house.”

  Joshua lit up at the news. “The mayor? I hadn’t expected…” he said, and turned, shouting, “Everyone out, the police are giving amnesty. Out, now!”

  A few of the holdouts moved to the door, but stopped, nobody wanted to go first.

  Shazam opened it. “You saw it, they let everyone outside go, nobody stopped or arrested.”

  With that, one brave person, a short woman with thick, curly hair and bright clothing that could have been from the nineties, tentatively walked through. Others watched from the window, some from the door, each trying not to be too visible. When the woman reached the police, she was scanned and released without incident, and at that, another two left, hand in hand. This opened the floodgate and word spread through the house. Soon there was a line down the staircase from the second floor. Despite Joshua’s calls for revolution, most were more than happy to be released and escape.

  Shazam sent the two guards through the house to get all the stragglers.

  Joshua shook his head. “Why should we have everyone leave? Perhaps we can keep a couple, just in case? We
’ll be alone.”

  “We can’t keep these people as hostages,” said Shazam.

  “They’re not hostages, they’re revolutionaries.”

  Shazam grunted in reply, “They don’t want to be in the middle of this, they just want to live. Let them go, I’ve got a promise that they can leave, nobody will hurt them.”

  Joshua appeared skeptical.

  “If it comes to it,” said Shazam, “are our deaths not enough? Everyone who gets out will know what you’ve done here today, what we’ve done.”

  This sealed it, Joshua agreed, visions of martyrdom clearly filling his head. “What about the girls? They’re fighters.”

  “You’re right, of course, they should stay,” said Shazam. He looked at Ira and raised an eyebrow. “How about it, will you fight for me?”

  Thrilled at the thought, excited at the promise of action, Ira nodded. “Point me towards whoever I need to kick, I’m there!” She noticed her sister take a peek out the window, but she didn’t make a move to leave. Whatever, Ira thought.

  Shazam took her hand and squeezed. “You’ve always been good to me. I’ll owe you forever for this.”

  “There ain’t no owing in this,” she said and ignored a negative path from her sister.

  As the last of the people streamed out, Shazam had the two guards make sure staff had cleared out.

  After ten minutes, only the five of them remained in the room. “What now?” asked Joshua. “You said the mayor was coming, he’ll be here soon?”

  Shazam rolled to the window and looked out, Ira beside him. The police cars were pulling away and soon there were only two unmarked vehicles left. “They’re gone,” she said to the others.

  “I’m sure the mayor would love to see you,” said Shazam, his voice suddenly heavy with sarcasm.

  “What?” said Joshua, stupidly.

  “I bet the president himself comes to see you. The entire Congress will line up to wait to shake your hand for showing them the error of their ways.”

  Ira got a strange path from her sister and looked up. Ari was looking at Shazam with horror.

  Ira pathed a quick what? but didn’t receive a reply. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Nobody replied to her. Instead, Shazam nodded to the two other men. “Randy, Brad, I made a deal, you’re good, we’re good. They want the girls alive, don’t hurt them unless you have to. Joshua has to go.”

  Ira stared at his stern face in confusion. She expected goofy, fun and funny, playful, but this Shazam was something new, as if an angry old man had taken over Shazam.

  Randy pulled a gun and, in one swift move, hit Joshua in the back of the head. Brad pulled one as well and pointed it at her and at her sister. He said, “Back up, to the window. No sudden moves.”

  Ira’s face flushed and her pulse quickened in anger and shock. The man she thought of as her happy, party friend had turned out to be exactly like everyone else, nothing more than a liar. She pathed a question to her sister, Fight?

  Ari answered, “Wait,” and she did. They were augmented, fast, agile and able, but two guns were too much, and both men looked ready to shoot. She backed up two feet, far enough to comply, but short enough that she could reach Randy in three steps if it came to that.

  Joshua had fallen to the ground and was struggling up to his knees, moaning. Blood streamed down his forehead from a deep gash across his temple. Shazam pulled a small black baton out from under the side of his wheelchair, flipped it so it extended fully, and hit Joshua across the head. Once, twice and then a third time. The man fell back to the ground.

  The man moaned and Shazam hit him again. “Quit your whining, rich boy.”

  Still stunned, Ira said, “What?” She couldn’t manage anything more.

  Shazam stared at her with disdain. “You can’t imagine how hard it is to listen to him whine all the time about inequality this, disparity that. He’s got it better than almost anyone, but instead he spends his days trying to atone for imagined sins.”

  “You planned this, you’re in league with them,” said Ari, with a nod out the window.

  Shazam smiled in a way Ira had never seen before, cold and cruel. “No, but we took advantage of it,” he said and pointed to Randy and Brad. “We planned to do this later, but, hey, gotta strike when the iron is hot, right?”

  “Them?” she asked.

  “We’ve talked many times. Do you know how little he paid them, going home every night to his mansion, returning in the morning, thinking they were happy to be his lapdogs?”

  There wasn’t any reason to speak further. With her weight balanced on her back foot, Ira said nothing and watched the others in the room. She didn’t bother hiding the hate she felt. Only minutes ago, he’d kissed her, but it’d been all fake. Her sister pathed caution. Ira glanced over and pathed that she would wait. She had time, but he’d die, she’d make sure of that.

  “What now, boss?” asked Brad with a sick grin. He pointed the gun at Joshua and shook it twice.

  With a quick turn of his wheelchair, Shazam moved to the front door and waved twice. “Roll him up in the carpet, we need to get rid of the mess,” he said.

  With a small turn of her head, just enough to look out the window without losing track of the two guards, Ira saw the two men Shazam had talked to get out of one of the cars. They walked to the house, followed by four men from the other car.

  The big one entered first, strutting in a way that told Ira everything she needed to know about him. “Shut the door,” he said. He glanced into the room, took in the group and focused on the moaning man on the floor. “Huh,” he said. “Good work.”

  Shazam was smiling again, the same smile Ira had seen many times before, open and honest. And one-hundred percent bullshit. He wheeled into the entry. “The house is empty, it’s yours. And I kept the girls here like you asked. They’re with him.”

  “Him?” asked Ira, knowing the answer but having to ask.

  “Hi,” said the large man to Brad and Randy, “I’m Jackson.” He looked Ira and Ari up and down, “They’re a cute pair, I like. Which one is which?” he asked Shazam.

  “Dreadlocks is Ira. Puffy hair is Ari. Watch them, they’re more dangerous than they look.”

  Criggs laughed, “All women are.” He stepped forward and examined each of them, not afraid. Ira’s blood boiled as he brushed one hand against Ari’s cheek. “Very pretty. I might keep you for myself if she lets me.”

  As he turned to her, Ira noticed red spots on his cheeks matched by tiny flecks in his eyes. She didn’t look away when he approached. Cautiously, so he wouldn’t notice, she raised her left hand and let her right hand fell down to her side, inches from where she hid her chalikars.

  With a leer, Criggs brushed his hand against her side, just above the hip and Ira snapped. She lunged straight out with a fist at his face. Her other hand went for a weapon, but never reached it as he moved left with a speed she didn’t think possible. He grabbed her by the throat. His other hand, the one that had brushed her so intimately, caught her before she could take out a chalikar.

  She still had one free hand and her fist raked his cheek, drawing blood from where a ring connected. Criggs ignored this, raised her off the ground by the throat and slammed her against the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ari step forward and then stop. Both knew they’d not win this battle. Not yet.

  His filthy breath was hot on her face as he leaned in, inches from her. “Enough,” he said.

  She hit him again and again, going for the face, the eyes. He simply ignored the blows and lifted her off the floor and slammed her against the wall again. He released her and she fell to the ground.

  The pain was incredible. Ira rolled away from him and only barely avoided a kick to the face, but found herself against the wall, nowhere else to go. Criggs’ next kick landed hard in her gut and knocked the all the air out of her lungs.

  “They’re spicy,” said Criggs, not even breathing heavy. Ira lashed out with a kick of her own,
but he avoided it, with a single step back. Chuckling to the other men, he said, “Keep your distance,” and wiped the blood off his cheek with a finger. He stared at it for a moment, stuck it in his mouth and sucked it clean.

  Shazam pulled out his baton and waved it at Ira, who was still on the ground, her back and belly competing for her attention. “Don’t do that again,” he yelled, and as if to make his point, hit Joshua, who was still moaning. “Wrap him up, didn’t I tell you to wrap him up?” he screamed to Brad.

  Ira glared at Shazam, the betraying bastard, thinking of attacking him. She could kill him before they stopped her. She received a path from Ari, “Patience.” They locked eyes briefly and Ira stayed down. She’d have her moment, and Ari would be there for her, but it had to be the right moment.

  Brad dragged Joshua to the side of the large carpet and rolled him once and so that he was covered. A second and a third flip followed, and his moaning grew distant and muffled.

  Ira watched in terror from where she lay on the floor. She hurt, but not so much that she couldn’t get up. When she pushed down on one leg to stand, her sister pathed, stay down. It was clear and urgent. She could get up fast enough when the time came, and if she remained down, they might not consider her a threat.

  “You’re killing him,” said Ari.

  “Duh. That’s the idea,” said Shazam. “That’s the deal.”

  “He’ll suffocate.”

  “You’re a whiney little thing, I always liked Ira better,” sneered Shazam. “He’ll be dead, does it matter how?”

  “You’re going to fit right in,” smiled Criggs. “You got style.”

  “So, that’s what this is about? You’re in bed with him?” asked Ira.

  Criggs laughed out loud. “The little man probably would if I paid enough, but he’s not my type. If you mean we’re working together, then yes, he’ll handle my down-market services.”

  “Down-market?”

  “Poor people. Can I say that, is that politically correct?”