My Name Is Not Alexa Pearce

by Kerri McLoone

  Darius’s hand glows brighter and brighter as it heats up ready to discharge more flames. Darius fires the instant before the man gets his door open.

  The man jumps through into the safety of his pawn shop just as the third crate of beer bottles explodes, shooting glass shards against the door as it slams shut behind him.

  Darius’s anger has not changed after the three crates of bottles and palettes are obliterated. He waves his arm again and this time stacks a half dozen boxes in three piles.

  **********

  Viribus enters the bar again, his vision sweeping across the room. When he does not locate Darius in his customary spot at the end of the bar, he looks at the bartender. The man looks five years older than when Viribus saw him earlier today. The lines on his face more profound, the gray hair at his temples more pronounced.

  The barkeep holds Viribus’s gaze this time and nods his head toward the door leading to the kitchen. Viribus nods knowing where his boss has gone to.

  He makes his way through the kitchen that reeks of cooking oil and stops at the door to the alley. He opens the door cautiously to see what Darius is taking his anger out on, sees there are six crates of empty beer bottles stacked in three piles. He will wait until his boss has exhausted some of his rage before showing himself.

  He hears a crash as the fire thrown from Darius’s hand reaches the first stack, followed by a whoosh as what’s left is set ablaze. He calmly waits. He’s seen what Darius’s firepower can do and has no plans of being caught in its crosshairs.

  Viribus hears two more bangs in quick succession and decides the coast is clear enough to present himself to his boss. When he steps out into the alley, Darius is facing away from him.

  “Boss,” Viribus calls out.

  Darius doesn’t turn around but replies to his lieutenant. “You have something for me?”

  “Actually, I think I might.”

  At that, Darius faces the mammoth man. He grits his teeth, impatience already bubbling that Viribus isn’t speaking faster. “Well?” he barks out.

  “Julius put out word along the pipeline that if anyone had seen a young girl age eighteen to twenty-three, alone, no friends, no connections, new in town, to let him know. Asked people to send information along quietly, that it’s all off the books.”

  “Get to the fucking point already!” Darius shrieks. His desperation at finding the girl overpowering his typically cold demeanor.

  “He got a call from Blue in New Orleans. He asked each of his parolees about the girl. Made it sound like she had skipped out of her own parole from up north. He gave them a description and one his guys remembered something from around the public library of all places. Turns out it wasn’t who we’re looking for, but Blue had someone follow up just to be sure, and he found out that three years ago, some random young girl was staking out the library. She was asking questions about when it was built and if it always looked the way it looked now or if it had been changed at some point. Didn’t want to know anything about the books inside, just the building.”

  “A library in New Orleans from three years ago?” Darius clarifies.

  Viribus nods eagerly, believing he’s given his boss a lead they can pursue.

  Darius sweeps his left arm out, and Viribus flies into the air slamming into the brick wall still scorched and smoking from its previous assault.

  “What the fuck can I do with information from three years ago?!” he shouts as his anger increases tenfold. Darius freezes his left arm where it is while his right hand flares to life.

  “Darius, please. Don’t. I’ll keep searching. I’ll get you what you need. I swear, boss. I swear.” Viribus begs him, saying anything he can think of to get his boss to spare his life. Darius’s left hand now starts to form into a fist, Viribus can instantly feel a vice closing on his throat.

  Viribus chokes out, “I’ll go to New Orleans myself and get you more information. I’ll do anything... please.” His face is turning purple and his eyes bulge, black dots are starting to form in his peripheral vision. Darius launches an orb of blazing energy from his right hand. At the same instant he opens his left, dropping Viribus back onto the ground in a heap, gasping for air. The ball of flames hits the brick wall exactly where Viribus’s heart was seconds ago. Bits of mortar and red dust rains down on the lieutenant from the crater left behind on the wall.

  “No more chances, Viribus. You go where you have to and only come back when you can tell me what I need. Nothing less. Do you fucking understand?”

  Viribus is still on the ground coughing, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible. He nods, never once looking up at the demon.

  “Good. Now go.”

  Viribus staggers to his feet, his large frame unsteady as he walks down the alley, not bothering to go back through the bar. He walks past where Darius is standing, head down, one hand rubbing his throat.

  “Oh, and Viribus?” Darius calls out. The lieutenant freezes and slowly turns around, looking slightly to the left of his boss’s head, not brave enough to chance looking him in the eye.

  “I won’t miss next time.”

  ● 10 ●

  “Alexa”

  I’m jostled out of a deep, dreamless sleep Friday morning by Milo pawing at me. I keep my eyes closed and ignore him until I feel him licking my face and whimpering. I finally open my eyes when he lets out a little yelp-like bark. The clock on my nightstand shines a blurry 7:30 A.M. at me.

  I groan, “Ah, shit.”

  I must have forgotten to turn the alarm on last night. I have to hustle, or I’m going to be late for work. I throw off my covers, grab the same sweatpants from yesterday morning and my glasses, and open my bedroom door. I stop dead in my tracks outside the door because something just feels off, the apartment is completely silent. I cautiously walk down the hall toward the living room. I peek my head and see nothing different from yesterday, except no Cali. Cali, I realize.

  I sigh and roll my neck and shoulders a few times to relax a little as I remember that she stayed at Mickey’s last night. Plus, Milo showed no signs of there being anything wrong, so I got worked up for nothing.

  “Come on, Milo. No time to waste today.” He follows me obediently to the door and doesn’t move too much as I put his harness on. I grab his leash and keys from their hook and unlock my apartment door. I decide to put his leash on downstairs. “Milo, side,” I say. He’s instantly at my left knee. As I’m about to open the door, I feel a vibration at my knee as Milo lets out a growl.

  I stop cold. Milo’s growls only mean one thing and it’s never something good.

  I quickly throw the deadbolt back into its slot to lock the door and check the peephole. Through the small glass lens, I see a warped picture of the short, well-lit hallway and the top of the stairs to the right of my door. I angle my head back and forth to try and get the full picture. I see my bike against the wall where it usually is, but don’t see anything else out of place, which is strangely more unsettling than relieving.

  Milo growls again from his spot at my knee. My heart starts to race as my mind spirals with all the possible threats that could be on the other side of the door: Is it Darius? Has he found me? But how? I’ve been so careful! I could get ready to deflect any fire or demons who might be hiding… No! If it’s not Darius, that’ll give me away! Maybe it’s a burglar just waiting for someone to open the door. Could it be Cali playing a prank trying to scare me? But Milo wouldn’t growl if it was her.

  Milo presses into my leg and takes a small step forward, putting himself between me and the door now entirely in protection mode. I trust my dog more than my own eyes but decide to look again anyway. I go up on my toes to see if there is something, or someone, directly beneath the peephole. This time I see it.

  It looks like an ordinary, medium-sized, brown cardboard box. Normally an utterly harmless thing. But if Milo is on alert then I am too. My entire body breaks out into a cold sweat as I rack my brain trying to remember if Cali or I ordered anything. But it�
�s not even eight in the morning, no one delivers yet. Plus it definitely wasn’t there when I got home last night which was after ten. It has to be a trap. But from who? Or what?

  I don’t know what to do. Do I open the door? Do I call Cali and ask her about it? Do I call out sick?

  But I finally have something of a lead, I yell in my head. I have to go to work today!

  I realize the only thing I can do is open the door and give Milo the command I’ve only ever had to use three times.

  My palms are slick with sweat. I wipe both hands on my sweatpants and slowly reach out, putting one hand on the doorknob, the other is on the deadbolt. I look down at Milo who is staring intensely at the door and say, “Milo, set.”

  He takes a few steps back, positioning himself to be in the direct path of the door as I open it. I take a deep breath, say, “Milo, seek,” throw the bolt and yank the door open.

  “Seek” is the command I use when I want Milo to attack. He’s been trained by my grandfather and me to go after whatever object or person I’m looking at and use his power to sense if there is a direct threat. If there is, Milo attacks. If it’s a false alarm, he circles whatever it is twice and then comes back and sits next to me. “Seek” is a more conspicuous command than “attack” which gives both Milo and I a break if it is a false alarm. It’s pretty difficult to explain to someone why you gave your dog a command to attack them, especially if it turns out there is nothing wrong.

  Milo bolts through the opening and barrels right into the box, no hesitation at all. The box topples over and I see a piece of paper go flying off of it. Milo bites into the cardboard in a couple places and then just stops. He doesn’t circle twice and return, but he doesn’t continue to attack it either. It’s like he’s confused.

  Unsure of what I should do in this situation, I tentatively step into the hallway. My eyes dart everywhere, above me and side to side, checking to see what has my dog stymied.

  Could Milo have smelled or heard something through the door and that’s why he growled? I go to pick up the piece of paper and see a handwritten note: This came to my place instead-Ty.

  That explains why he went so nuts. But ugh, I think. I would’ve too.

  Ty is Tyler Pentz. He lives in the apartment directly below mine. Tyler is an appalling person, sleazy and vulgar at every turn. The first time I met him, Milo immediately growled and put himself between us, which was all I needed to know about the guy but unfortunately I know more. Tyler is the type of guy who catcalls women and then gets insulted when they don’t fawn all over him for it. He has no concept of personal space whatsoever. He doesn’t believe women can be gay. In fact, I’ve heard him say to Mickey and Cali that they “just haven’t been fucked by the right man yet” — the gross insinuation being that he’s the right man. Tyler also believes his opinion is the only opinion.

  The multiple times I’ve rebuffed his advances I’ve heard him use a racial slur and call me a stuck-up bitch. He is just the worst kind of person. He makes my skin crawl every time I see him.

  I crumple the note and throw it over the railing. I watch it fall through the air onto the landing in front of Tyler’s door. I turn back to the box and Milo, he’s sitting next to it still unsure what to do.

  “Good boy, Milo. You did real good, pup.” I scratch his ears as I kneel down and look at the box. It’s from one of those giant online warehouse stores and is addressed to Cali. I lift it to bring it inside and put it on the coffee table. I hope whatever is inside didn’t get wrecked or anything from Milo.

  I check the clock on the cable box, 7:53 glows bright green back at me.

  “Shit!” I cry. If I want to shower before work, I only have time to take Milo around the block once. I put his leash on now instead of downstairs and race out the still open door, slamming it behind me.

  “Sorry big guy, no pup-cup this morning,” I tell Milo as we head out of the building. He shakes himself out from head to toe and promptly sits down. I don’t realize he’s not moving until I get tugged back a little by his weight and strength. I turn around and give a gentle tug on his leash. “Come on, Milo.” He turns his head away with his nose up refusing to move or look at me.

  “The fuck?” I mumble. “Milo, don’t you want to go for a walk?” I use my sweetest voice to entice him with no luck. I rewind the last few minutes in my head to see what changed from the top of the stairs to now. I roll my eyes as I realize what’s going on.

  “Seriously? Okay, listen. No pup-cup right now, but I promise when I get home later I will bring you a double pup-cup, okay?” Milo finally stands and wags his tail. “Okay then, let’s go,” I say nodding my head and coaxing him along with each word.

  We’ve just turned the corner at the block when I look down at him and chuckle to myself. This dog just basically threw a temper tantrum over some whipped cream. He must’ve learned that from Cali, I think. Realizing I should probably give Cali a heads up about that box, I pull out my phone to text her.

  LEX: you got a package here. it was outside the door when milo and i left for our walk. he may have attacked it a little. sorry!

  I don’t expect her to be awake to text me back but I quickly see the bubble pop up signaling she’s typing back.

  CAL: i’m sure it’s fine! just a couple of books and some scarves

  CAL: they were on clearance!

  For someone who honestly doesn’t have much of anything to worry about financially, Cali is one of the thriftiest shoppers I’ve ever met. She will wait until something is on sale, or it’s the seasonal change when stores are trying to clear out their stock or visit three different sites to find the best deal on something. There’s only one thing I know of for sure that she’s paid full price for since I’ve known her: a multi-year platinum membership to Mickey’s Kick Boxing and Training Studio.

  LEX: oh, ok then i’m sure they’re ok. i left the box on the coffee table for you

  CAL: thanks

  CAL: sooooo how was the rest of your night????

  I know what she’s aiming at, but I play dumb.

  LEX: what ever do you mean my dear roommate?

  CAL: don’t play coy with me!

  CAL: moose: do you want me to walk you home?

  CAL: lex: yeah that’d be great....... (cue hair flip and giggle)

  LEX: lol he only offered because YOU went to mickey’s

  CAL: sure lex. sure. moose may be a gentleman, but you my friend are blind

  CAL: did he kiss you goodnight?

  I don’t answer right away. Instead, I let the memory of last night wash over me as Milo and I round the last corner and head back to our building.

  Milo, Matt, and I slowly walked the nine blocks from the restaurant to my apartment. Our languid pace was only half due to the amount of food we had consumed. He was following my lead, and I was definitely going slower trying to prolonging our time together. I couldn’t tell if the ever-present butterflies were excited at him being so close, or if I just had indigestion, but my stomach was in knots. Our arms brushed together when we moved over to let a group of people pass us. His hand easily slid into mine after that.

  I decide to tell Cali the truth about my feelings for Matt. They are best friends, I think. She wouldn’t egg me on if he was interested or hadn’t said something to her, right?

  LEX: he kissed my cheek

  LEX: i just about died

  I followed those texts up with a line of heart-eyed emojis.

  As Milo and I walked up the stairs to our apartment I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I ignored the chime of my phone alerting me that Cali has responded to my text. I open the door and we walk into our home together. Milo goes to his bowls, as is customary after a walk. I give him some food and fresh water then grab a couple granola bars for myself and throw them into my bag.

  I put my phone on the counter with my keys and trot to my room. I have exactly ten minutes before I have to leave for work. Not enough time to shower so I’ll have to just wash up and get dressed. I style
my hair in a low ponytail, letting my long curly hair trail down my back, and pay extra attention to my mascara. I grab a loose black tunic blouse and dark gray leggings from my closet and put on the same flats from yesterday.

  I pick up my bag from the counter, check that I have my wallet, phone, keys; check that the granola bars are still there and haven’t been stolen by a certain canine. I have the feeling that I’m forgetting something but I shake it off. I don’t have time to figure it out right now.

  I check to see that the printout from yesterday is still in there too. My heart skips a beat as I touch the page. This could really be it, I think.

  I check the clock on my phone and see I have two minutes to spare. I go to one of the cabinets in the kitchen and pull down the airtight container I keep Milo’s treats in. I open it and grab two crunchy bone cookies for Milo. After I put the container away, I turn ready to whistle for Milo but he’s of course already at my feet, seated nicely with his gaze zeroed in on his treats.