The Sins of Lincoln

by Nightly, Alyssa

  CHAPTER SIX

  One Week Later

  “So she’s lucid now?” said a male nurse in the intensive care unit, staring at Jane Doe.

  “Yes, they pulled her off the drip this morning,” said another nurse. “She started regaining consciousness around 2:00 a.m.”

  “And is she talking?”

  “Yes, but only in fits and starts. She keeps saying ‘he saved me, he saved me’. That’s all we’ve gotten out of her so far, anyway.”

  “Who? You mean the guy on the news they keep calling ‘The Terminator’?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. I guess so.” Both nurses heard mumbling sounds coming from the patient. “Shhh. She’s saying something.” They leaned in to listen.

  “He visits me, you know,” said Jane Doe, her eyes still closed. “He visits me.” A smile peeled across her bruised face. “Here in the hospital. He comes to visit me.”

  The two nurses looked at each in confusion. “Who does? Who visits you,” said the female nurse.

  “He saved me. Those men, they were hurting me. But he saved me. He came in and tore them off of me.”

  “The man that saved you comes and visits you here in the hospital?” The nurses exchanged glances of disbelief.

  “He visits me here. Late at night. You’ll see. He doesn’t want me to tell anybody though.” She giggled as a devious little grin painted across her young face.

  As the patient dozed back off into a pharmaceutically-induced sleep, the female nurse said, “She’s out of it, alright. Ain’t nobody visiting her late at night. Must be the drugs talking.”

  An hour and a half later several other nurses were in the middle of a shift change. A physician entered the floor. He was draped in blue-green surgical scrubs including a cap on his head and booties over his shoes. He breezed past the patient rooms and stopped at a nurses station with his head buried in a clipboard. Without uttering a word, he leaned over one of the hospital desktop computers and pulled up the chart on Jane Doe.

  “Can I help you, doctor?” said an attractive, young blond nurse just starting her shift.

  “Just checking in on our girl,” said the physician, pointing through the glass window towards Jane Doe.

  With that he rose and walked into Jane Doe’s room. He squeezed her hand. His was warm, firm, and reassuring.

  “I knew you’d come,” whispered Jane Doe.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Stronger. Much stronger.”

  “Good. I’m glad. But, this is the last time I’m going to visit you.”

  “But...”

  “No buts. The risk-reward ratio isn’t high enough,” he said. “When you’re out, when you’re at home. I’ll come to you. I’ll come to you and we’ll start. It’s going to take a lot of work, but if you listen to me and learn what I teach you, nothing bad will ever happen to you again.”

  After the doctor disappeared down the stairwell, the blond nurse said to another, “Who is that physician? I’ve never seen him before.”

  “What physician?”

  “The one that visits Jane Doe sometimes. I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Girl,” said the other, “you just want to meet him, don’t you? I can see you, yes I can. I can see you and you want to get to know him just a little bit better, don’t you.”

  “Oh stop.” It was a playful response. “Did you see his eyes? I could get lost in those eyes. And his hands. They look so...firm. It’s like he’s all covered up, but you can just tell, can’t you?”

  “Tell what?”

  “Oh, come on. Like you don’t notice his body. I bet he’s a sculpted piece of man under there.”

  They both laughed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Search

  “Alright, we’ve finally identified our victim, Jane Doe,” said Detective Riggs. “She regained consciousness after they took her off the meds to keep her in a medically induced coma. Her real name is Mavery Healy.”

  His police captain looked up from a sea of paperwork and began speed talking. “Victim? What victim. We have another victim? Dammit, why wasn’t I notified? The next time I’m not notified I’m going to kick somebody’s ass.”

  “Woa, woa, woa. Slow down there, Captain McJumpToConclusions. Let’s just take a breather.” Riggs was laughing. “I’m talking about the rape victim from Chopper Town, that biker bar out on old route 92, over by that restaurant supply house. The gang-rape case. Jesus, boss, you’d think you’d remember that one? It’s been on the news every day since it happened.”

  “Oh, yeah. The one with the Terminator guy who annihilated all the bikers. Got it. What’s the situation on the case? Have you charged the bikers in the assault? How many were still alive after the Terminator got ahold of them? Have any leads there? Do we know his ID? Dammit, man, I want answers.”

  “Geez, boss. You need a vacation. Slow down, already. Alright, the answer to your first question is yes, I’ve charged the surviving bikers with felony rape. All of them have multiple felony convictions in their past, and with the surveillance video having captured the entire event, I’d say it’s a slam dunk. They won’t see light of day outside of prison ever again. There were three survivors, by the way. Three survivors out of eight. And no, we don’t have an ID on our terminator. I don’t know boss, it’s like tracking down a ghost.”

  “Oh don’t give me that crap. How hard could it be? A public bar, fingerprints, video surveillance, witnesses. What’s the big deal? Bring him in already. The district attorney wants to prosecute him.”

  “Prosecute him? For what? Saving a 23-year-old woman from being murdered after they finished gang raping her?”

  “Don’t hand me that vigilante-hero crap. It’s right there on the video surveillance tape. He didn’t just stop these guys from raping her. He took them apart, piece by piece. And when he’d knocked them half unconscious, he snapped their necks like they were sticks of string cheese.”

  “Heat of the moment, I say. Captain, I’m being serious here. Does anyone besides you and the D.A. know about this? That they want to prosecute him?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because if the public finds out, we’re going to have to put on the riot gear. People will tear down the walls of this place. You ever seen an angry mob of women? It’s scary. It’ll be pandemonium.”

  “The law is the law. And there won’t be any riots or protests or any of that.”

  “Oh no?” continued Riggs, “The Terminator guy is so popular in the press right now, he’s got a fan club page on Facebook. Over 17,000 likes so far. The page is raising money for women’s rights. It’s at about $110,000 right now. There hasn’t been anybody in years that has garnered this much popularity.”

  “Enough!” barked the captain. He pointed a sharp finger at Riggs. “If I tell you to find him and arrest him, you’ll do it.”

  Lt. Riggs walked from the office and slammed the door behind him. He was nobody’s slave and he saw no justice in arresting a hero.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Four Months Later

  Twenty three year old Mavery Healy, once known at the hospital only as Jane Doe, left the hospital and physical rehabilitation center four months and two days after she was attacked, and went home. Her family hovered close by at all times, and ‘Mav’ thought it was cute, but annoying. The apartment they set up for her was spartan, to say the least, but it was safe and safe was enough.

  “Mom, really, you don’t have to finish those dishes. Really, I’ve got it.”

  Mav’s mom turned around, wiping her hands with a dish towel. Her eyes were flushed.

  “Oh mom. I’ll be fine,” said Mav. “I know you’re worried, but I’ll be alright.”

  “Promise me.” Her mother was on the verge of tears again. “Promise me you’ll stay clear of bad places.”

  “Mom, I was just living my life, and something bad happened. I went into that bar because, well, I don’t know. I was curious, I guess.” In reality, Mav was more than curious abou
t bikers. “I’m not going to let it ruin the rest of my life. I’m going to live it. I’m going to live my life.” After a moment more of staring at her mother’s sad eyes, Mav said, “I promise,” though she didn’t know if she meant it.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” But Mav had no response. “I’m talking about your outbursts.”

  “Oh, mom...”

  “No, I mean it. Mavery Healy, you listen to me.” Her mother pointed a sharp finger forward. “You have a long way to go in this recovery. There’s an anger brewing in you. Maybe you don’t see it, but I do. I’ve never seen such sudden rage. It scares me honey.” The south Texas drawl oozed out at the corners of her words. “You’ve always had a, well, a temper. But this. Honey, this is so unlike you.”

  “Well, mom. They raped me. They held me down and raped me. Sometimes it makes me so angry I don’t know what I could do.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Honey, no one knows what you’ve been through other than you. But that rage, it will eat you alive. You’ve got to keep going back to the clinic and talking with the psychologist. She’s there to help. Please let her. Do it for me?”

  Mav shook her head. She knew far more about her internal rage at her attackers than she let on.

  And so it was. Mav Healy was independent once again. Mav was a smart girl and not one easily fooled. She’d done well in college. Well, she’d done well once she grew up a bit. She’d had one semester at Penn State before being politely asked to leave. It wasn’t her behavior at issue, it was her grades. But in all fairness, Mav knew it actually was her behavior that led to the first demise of her life. Being kicked out of a prestigious university was a bitter disappointment, but she had no one to blame but herself. The partying was good, but the frat boys were better.

  Mav didn’t like to admit it, and would be horrified if her mother ever knew, but Mav had a wild streak in her, and it was different from the temper flares that sometimes occurred out of nowhere. It was the kind of thing that many young coeds go through, but for Mav, it went just past the point of normalcy. She wanted to immerse herself in collegiate life right from the start. She joined a sorority and two months later, she knew she’d made a mistake. The girls were great, but the access to social life on campus that it afforded her was too much. Mav found out one thing about herself during that time—she never knew exactly how far she’d go in a given situation. It wasn’t that she was out of control and would go on wild sexual binges. But within a week of being on campus, she knew it was time to shed the virginity. The word itself gave her a chuckle now. Mav knew that it wasn’t about shedding a word, or a state of being. Shedding her virginity was more about satisfying a writhing sexual curiosity than anything else.

  During her second week of pledging the sorority, it happened. The Delta Theta frat boy never saw it coming. But once Mav laid eyes on him, she knew he was the one. She told no one, particularly none of her sorority pledge-class sisters. She followed him outside where it was dark, and once he had his back turned, she breezed by and ran her hand across the back side of his tight blue jeans. It was something she was exhilarated by. The act of feeling his firm body with no one else seeing threw her into a rush. The boy turned around and she gave him a little smile. From there, he took his cues and took them well. They walked behind a large oak tree and Mav kissed him and let her hands run where they wanted to. Even for her, the whole situation was something out of a fantasy. She didn’t even say a word to him. He kissed her back, and a few minutes later, that’s where it happened. Right behind the largest white oak in the county.

  Mav didn’t bother getting on the ground with him. It was safer to stand up and have him lean his naked weight into hers. They both kept it quiet and no one at the party saw a thing. The rush, the danger, the thrill was intoxicating, and Mav was addicted.

  At the end of the semester, however, Mav’s joyride ended when her grades returned less than stellar results. She’d made all D’s and one C. Her mother was in shock. But, Mav returned home and held her head high, only to apply for summer semester at Bucks County Community College, a school of around 10,000 who was more than happy to give her a second chance at a degree.

  The ride from her parent’s home out to Bristol Township and onto campus wasn’t too bad, but it was just far enough that Mav could live in the dorms without fear of any surprise visits from her mother. This time, she had a better handle on what to expect, and how much work it would take to earn her way through.

  Since there was no local chapter of her sorority, Mav lived out those next college years as an ‘independent,’ a person without a Greek affiliation. But that proved to be an advantageous situation for her since she had no sorority functions to attend. At Penn State, Mav had seen one disadvantage of pledging a sorority, and that was that the sorority tended to hang out with a select few fraternities on the weekends. Since there were so many guys to choose from, it wasn’t such a bad thing, but there were so many other male physiques out there, it seemed a shame to operate in such a limited fashion. At Bucks County, Mav had her choice of over 5000 guys. Some were duds, of course, but for the most part, these guys were hard partyers.

  Mav herself possessed the strange combination of a sweet-girl face, a party-girl body, and a sneaking temper that brewed just under the surface. Keeping a low profile was the hard part. She didn’t want people to know how many men she’d slept with. So, she’d go to class, study at the library for a few hours, but by nightfall, her young body was looking for a challenge. The easier ones were the guys she’d catch looking at her at a party. But they rarely provided her the risk she was looking for. To combine sex with danger—now that was a recipe for blissful satisfaction, and to achieve that, she had to go after the ones other girls dreamt of as well. But that was just the beginning. Once she had their undivided attention, the fun would begin.

  “What?” said one boy with stark brown hair and thick eyebrows. “You want to do it where?”

  “On the roof. Come on, take me up to the roof. I want you on top of me while I’m looking at stars.”

  “Are you crazy? Somebody will walk up there for sure. We go up to the roof of this frat house all the time.”

  “That’s what makes it so dangerous,” giggled Mav. Mav got her way with him, as she did with most men she wanted. But as time went by, Mav’s satisfaction with sneaking into some place they weren’t supposed to be and having sex became less satisfying. By the time she graduated, she had fallen into a rut, and wanted out. More danger, more daring, more risk was what she needed. And the more the risk, the harder the orgasms. It was an addiction.

  And so it came to be. Mav walked into the biker bar, Chopper Town, that night with thrill on her mind. Danger, thrill, and rough sex, that is. She had no idea that it could all go so wrong so fast. The Lincoln Killers were a rough gang, each and every one a hardened felon, and Mav was easy prey that night. Mav had no intention nor desire to be attacked. She provoked no one. She had sex-on-the-brain when she went looking for a biker to hook up with that night, but what happened was not her fault, and she knew it. The little flame of her underlying anger would later grow into a torrent that even she might not be able to control.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dreams

  Dreams came to Mav in fits and starts. Some were nightmares, nightmares of that night. During her waking hours, Mav was blissfully unable to remember the details of the attack. But at night, the demons came. She would see herself in the back room of that cheap bar. The smell was etched onto her memory. It was a cross between bad body odor and stale beer. Just walking through the door in the first place had been her only mistake. A woman should be able to go wherever she damn well pleases without being attacked. The rage grew inside her.

  But then there were other dreams of the attack where she would see flashes of the face of the man who saved her. The concussion had removed most of her memory of the event, but his face would not budge. She knew it was a face that would forever dwell in the recesses of her m
ind. His jawbone and high cheekbones were both squared and solid, like something cold-forged out of molten steel, then cast into shape. His eyes; a piercing blue, and his hair, wavy and long. What stuck in her mind most was his rage. Watching him break bones and take down each biker one at a time was the most exhilarating thing. Mav sometimes dreampt the same dream, only she was the one breaking the biker gang into little pieces. The face of her rescuer in her memory from the night of the attack was as rage-filled as she’d ever seen, yet there was a stoic control in it at the same time.

  And then, she had memories of the face when she was in the hospital. It was the same face. He would visit her during the night. But how could that be?, Mav thought. Maybe this is all just my imagination. I’ve been watching the coverage of my attack on the six o’clock news too much. What she remembered most about the face she’d seen at the hospital was the warmth, the caring, yet so devilishly good looking. This was not the face of a cold blooded killer like they talked about on the news. This was the face of someone deeply committed to what he believed in.

  Mav stared at the computer monitor, then shook her head back and forth, trying to rock free the distractions. Her new job as a loan officer at Bailey Bank and Trust was going well and she didn’t want to blow it.

  “Miss Healy?” said an older man whose bottom shirt button had broken loose under the strain of the spare tire he tried to conceal underneath.

  “Huh? Oh, sorry Mr. Lorrance. Yes, how can I help you.”

  “This is Mr. Jenkins. He and his wife are looking at buying their first home. Can you walk him through our 30-year flat and variable rate mortgage products please?”

  “Oh yes sir. Nice to meet you Mr. Jenkins.”

  Lorrance gave her a look of slight disapproval—Mav had been caught daydreaming on the job again and she knew it.

  Mav talked for several minutes to the customer about the particulars of what types of loans were available. “And we also have a 15 year variable rate mortgage, it’s tied to the LIBOR, but I won’t bore you with the details of that...” Mav’s eyes drifted out across the bank floor and out the ten-foot tall glass window. Then, the expression on her face went blank.