Hawk

by Abigail Graham

  "That's not true. You're a killer and criminal and a monster."

  "That's your delusions talking. After you spend some time resting up in the hospital, you'll see the truth."

  "No!” I scream, "No, you can't!"

  He motions with his hand and the driver gets back in the car.

  "Stop!" I scream at him. "Listen to me, he's going to put me in a psych ward! I'm not crazy, you have to listen to me. Please, officer. This is wrong. There's nothing wrong with me. Listen to me. I'm begging you please listen to me." My words melt into sobs, and hot tears sting my cheeks. "Don't let him do this to me. Please. Please. Please."

  "Shut up," the cop says coldly.

  I sink back into the seat, sobbing.

  The world rolls by, pressing in against the glass, and every bitter memory floods back into my mind. I feel the restraints on my arms, feel the needle slide into my buttock, the heat as the chemicals flush into my flesh. I remember every iota of anger and resentment I felt for Hawk and each drop of it is a tiny core of hate, not for him, for me. I held anger for him in my heart, and now this has happened. Someone help me.

  Don't let them kill him. They'll kill him this time. Please God don't let them kill him. Somebody help us.

  Nobody answers me.

  I go quiet, sobbing softly to myself, lying on the stinking seat that smells like dried perspiration and rotten soda and piss. I curl up in a ball and resign myself to the inevitable, a dark pit of agonized dread forming in my stomach, and sink into it. They killed him. Hawk is dead, he's dead, he's dead.

  No he's not. I can feel it. I don't know how I can but I can feel it, he is not dead and he is going to come for me.

  "Where's my sister?" I croak.

  "That depends on how cooperative she is," Tom says. “Instability seems to run in your family. Fortunately, May wasn't present when you and Howard attacked my son." He says it as if Hawk isn't also his son. "If she's cooperative and understanding, I'll give her a chance. If not, well, there's room for one more in the rubber room. Not that you'll be seeing her again."

  I can't stop myself, I start crying again, curl up in the seat and watch as we drive through Paradise Falls, all the way through town. The cars behind us peel off, some heading for the police station. I didn't see Hawk after they threw him on the ground. They could have blown his brains out right there and there would be nothing he could do about it. When the idea hits me, the image follows and my mind paints a vivid picture of his blood painted across the earth, fanned out on the soil and tall grass, and I can't help but scream and pound my feet on the floor.

  "She’s crazy," the cop says in a droll voice.

  Let me out, let me out.

  They keep driving. Over the bridge, beyond. Onto the highway. People look at me. People in other cars. They see me with my running tears and red eyes, they see me scream through the glass and they just drive on like I'm not here. I'm locked up in the back of a cop car, I must deserve it. I lean my head on the glass and sob, and the car just keeps rolling.

  By the time we finally stop, my arms are on fire, my shoulders raw knots of paint, my wrists scraped and bruised, my ankles throbbing. The cop gets out first and Tom follows, and there's men outside, orderlies in scrubs, big men and they have a gurney. As they come for me, I scoot to the other side of the car and curl up, try to push into the door and get away but it's no good. I kick with both feet and they just grab my ankles and yank me bodily out of the car.

  "I'm not crazy!" I wail. "How can you do this? Somebody help!"

  There are others here, other people. A couple walks into the front of the hospital, headed for the big slowly revolving doors, and they stop and look and shake their heads, heavy with pity, and keep walking. They think I'm nuts. They think I'm supposed to be here. It's happening again and I can't stop it, help me, help me, help me!

  I'm up in the air and I flop face down on the gurney. The cuffs snap loose from my wrists and ankles and I try to scramble loose even if it means planting face first on the pavement, but it doesn't matter, they turn me over, five men hold me down and tighten leather cuffs around my arms and legs and pull nylon straps over my chest and hips and they tie me down to the gurney and roll me inside.

  The sweltering heat passes into ice cold and florescent lights slide over my head, each one that much closer to hell. The gurney turns, a sickening lurch in my stomach following it, and heads down another hall. I don't remember this place, I don't know if I was here before, but I feel it, feel the walls reaching into crush me, the lights overhead sliding down to grasp me in red hot fingers and choke out my life. I beg and I plead, my words melting into a wordless blubber as the gurney wheels into a plain white room and stops, and then everyone leaves.

  They turn off the lights, leaving only a pale thin rectangle of white casting a glow across the room. I start screaming.

  I scream until my throat burns and goes hoarse, and I can't anymore. I lay there sobbing silently until the door opens and my mother walks in.

  I pull against my bonds.

  "Mom," I rasp. "Please listen to me." She brushes a lock of hair out of my face and caresses my cheek. "Mom," I beg her, "Please. Please. You have to get away from him."

  “From who, sweetie?"

  "From Tom, I'm begging you. He's a monster. He killed his first wife."

  My mother laughs softly, and sighs.

  "What are you laughing at?"

  "I have to laugh, or I'll cry," she says, caressing my arm. "Your delusional, honey. Tom isn't some kind of criminal. It's all in your head."

  "Hawk will come for me-"

  "Hawk was destitute," she says, smiling. "He came begging for a place to stay, and Tom caught him trying to force himself on you, the way he forced himself on you when you were younger. Don't you remember?"

  "No, no that's bullshit and you're lying. I love him. I've always loved him. He came back for me."

  "It's okay, dear. He's going to go away for a long time. He'll never hurt you again."

  "He never hurt me," I hiss at her. "You hurt me, you cold evil bitch. Tom killed his first wife, and I hope he kills you too."

  She laughs.

  "Tom killed his wife. Is that what you believe?"

  She leans down, to whisper in my ear.

  "That's insane."

  "It's not, we have proof."

  She laughs, so close to my ear I can feel her breath.

  "No, you stupid little slut. Tom didn't kill his wife. I did."

  She stands, still smiling, and strides out of the room.

  The door slams closed, and swallows my screams.

  Hawk

  Now

  They're going to shoot me in the head and kill me.

  Or so I think. Instead they pick me up, two Paradise Falls cops. They pull me up by the arms, torquing my shoulders, and drag me to their cruiser.

  "You're fucked," one of them says, calmly.

  "I'm asserting my right to remain silent," I rasp.

  My head is splitting, my ears are shrieking, my eyes are burning, and I feel like I just got tumble dried again. They throw me in the back seat and I barely get my feet out of the way before they slam the door.

  The pair get in the car, and we drive. I sit up and watch Alexis' car in front of me. I can see her, just barely. The world is swirling around me. Eventually the ringing and the blindness will stop.

  "Good job with the flashbang," I croak out. "I guess you guys were too pussy to come at me straight on."

  The cop in the passenger seat laughs and nods at me. "Yeah, go ahead and provoke us, tough guy."

  "I need two shitkicker cops to wipe my ass. Why don't you two uncuff me and we can go one at a time or both at once, your preference."

  "One at a time or both at once," the driver says. "Sounds like what your girlfriend is in for."

  Snarling, I pull my feet up and hammer the glass partition with my heels. Both men jump and the car lurches as the driver wrestles it back under control.

  "Do that again, fuc
khead," the passenger says, "and you'll be shot for resisting arrest, feel me?"

  "Arrest for what?"

  They both laugh.

  "Boy," the passenger says, "You're in deep shit. You're up on a dozen charges."

  "Like what?"

  "We'll think of something," the other one says. "You rubbed another man's rhubarb. That doesn't fly around here."

  Fuckers.

  Nothing in the back I can use as a weapon, and I'm not getting these cuffs off. At least it's a fairly short drive back to Paradise Falls. I look around at the other cars, trying to spot the girls. I think I can see Alexis, but I can't spot May. I keep my trap shut as we head into town, and one of the cars peels off. I see May's nose pressed against the glass. It looks like it's heading back to the house, the car carrying her. Ahead of us, Alexis' car, I think, keeps going as we turn off, headed for downtown.

  "Where are they taking her?"

  "Shut up."

  I look around, get my bearings. We're headed for City Hall and the municipal complex. The police station is a squat, brute, ugly building that sticks out from behind the older City Hall and so on, a rectangular blockhouse with a holding pen on the second floor and concertina wire around the roof. My car and two others pull in, and the occupants form a ring around my car, hands on their guns.

  "Take it real easy," the passenger cop says. "We're taking you inside, gonna get you your new digs until the boss comes back to deal with you."

  "The boss?"

  No answer. They step out, and the ring of cops moves closer. One of them, I think the one who sat in the passenger seat, draws his piece while the driver opens the door. I swing my legs out and they all tense up as I stand. With a gun pointed in my face, they walk me inside. The pavement cuts my bare feet.

  "Easy there, Tex."

  The cop with the gun snorts. "Shut up."

  Sighing, I walk inside, leaving red streaks on the floor. The police station looks like the set from a low budget 70s cop show. Everything is coffee colored and worn down, and a dozen pencils stick in the ceiling. Most of the first floor is open desks, with some offices behind frosted glass, painted with the occupant's names. Half the force must be here, escorting me. Not that they have much to do with the state police providing all the police and public services for the town, or so I'm told. They keep walking me back until I stop in front of a heavy door.

  "Welcome to the fish tank."

  The cop with the gun opens the door and motions me in. Inside it's a concrete room, like a bunker, with a one-way window on the far side. An interrogation room. Two more draw their guns and cover me as they uncuff me, pull my arms around to the front, and use leg shackles to bind me to a steel ring in the middle of the bolted-down table. I settled into the bolted-down chair and they finally step back and put up their pieces.

  "See you later," one of them snaps.

  The cops file out and the door slams, and closes with a heavy, dull thud.

  I have to fucking get out of here.

  First I stand up and pull on the chain. It's not going to break, but that ring might. Getting the door open is step two, but right now, all I care about is step one. The ring is just screwed down, regular machine screws in the middle of the table. I lean back and pull, put my back and legs into it, and feel a surge in my chest when the table creaks.

  Nothing. It doesn't budge. If I had a fucking quarter I could probably get it loose.

  Desperate, I sit down, plant my elbows on the table, and contract my arms, pulling that way. Nothing. I try putting my feet on the table leg, but they just slip off. I can't get any leverage.

  Nothing in my pockets, not even a quarter to try turning the screws. Damn it, damn it, damn it all to hell.

  "Hey!"

  I freeze, and look up.

  There's a window about the size of a shoebox in the top of the wall, with two bars set in it, as if anyone can escape through an opening that small. Outside there's a glass window, the kind that cranks open. It's been pulled up, and Jennifer Katzenberg's face fills the opening.

  "Hey!"

  I stand up. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

  "Get away from the wall."

  "What?"

  "Get away from the wall!"

  I dart to the inward side of the room, as far as the chain will let me, and lean back.

  There's a noise outside, like distant thunder, or a big, big animal snarling. Then the sound of rubber on pavement, squealing, and the loudest noise I've ever heard, even louder than the flashbang. The wall folds in, cracking all around the middle, folding and breaking into pieces like a Pop-Tart in a kid's hands. Chunks of masonry fall inwards and dust slides off the surface of a… thing.

  It's on tires half as tall as I am, big knobby swamp rompers, it's all black, and as it backs up I swear a see a freaking tank tread in the back, like it's some kind of weird whipped off half-track trike. The whole thing shudders backwards, the top opens, Jennifer leaps out, and runs over to me, jumping over the debris. She's all in black, the same outfit she had on the other night. Without a word she grabs my hands and undoes the cuffs with a key.

  "Let's go."

  "Where-"

  "Go!"

  Then the door swings open.

  She looks up. A Paradise Falls cop steps into the room, holding his gun out in an awkward, improper Isosceles stance.

  Jennifer whirls, pivots on one heel, and kicks the gun out of his hand. In the same motion she turns on her other foot and her heel catches him square in the face, and she yanks the door shut.

  "I said go!"

  Okay.

  I tromp over the debris and alongside the… thing. It does have a tank tread in the back. The engine is loud. Jennifer climbs up inside and offers me a hand. I find handholds and climb up the sides, and she hands me a headset as I slip into the seat behind her, and the canopy slides shut.

  Her voice is tinny in my ear.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "The hell with me, where's Alexis?"

  "They're moving her. I heard on the police scanner."

  "What the fuck is this thing?"

  "My other car."

  She pulls back on a yoke, like an airplane, and the big machine rumbles backwards, lurching with surprising power. She turns the yoke and it turns in place, rumbling, and she kicks in her foot and it starts forward, throwing me back into the seat.

  The big front tires hit the front end of a Paradise Falls cruiser, the tires lift up, and there's a crunch and a metallic squeal as the tread in the back shreds the front end of the vehicle.

  I blink a few times. I heard about these things. This is one of those experimental high speed tactical vehicles. I read an article about them in a magazine. Popular Science. The government scrapped them, they were too expensive.

  Fuck that, I have to get to Alexis.

  "She's not at your house," Jennifer shouts. "Any ideas?"

  "Yeah, get this thing off the road before they call the National Guard."

  "Relax. I do this all the time."

  "What, is this an extracurricular activity?"

  "Yeah," she snaps. "Let's go get your girl."

  "Where's hubby?"

  "He's busy."

  "With what?"

  "You know that meth lab?"

  "What, the Amish one?"

  I could almost laugh. The Amish meth lab. I'm talking about an Amish meth lab riding with an English teacher in a fucking tank.

  "Yeah. He's going to blow it up."

  "At least tell me you got something off my father's computer."

  "Yeah," she shouts. "We got what we needed."

  "What the fuck are we going to do?"

  "Where would they take her?"

  "I don't know!"

  Think, Hawk. He didn't take her home. He'd have to-

  "Fuck," I snap. "The hospital. He'll put her back in the psych ward."

  She glances back at me. "You sure? We might only get one shot at this."

  "Yes, I'm fucking sure. Do you know wher
e they took her before? Which hospital?"

  "Yes, I do. That's where we're going?"

  "Yeah."

  She touches her ear. She's talking to someone else.

  "Yeah, I read. Where? Good. Got it."

  "What was that?"

  "Jacob. He has somebody listening to the police scanner. A Paradise Falls cop just called in, trying to raise the police station. Secret's out."

  "Shit."

  "The good news is, he was at the hospital. Let's go."

  "How far?"

  She looks at the screen in front of her, like a GPS with detail beyond anything I've ever seen.

  "Forty-five minutes by road. Faster in a straight line. Buckle your seat belt."

  She's not joking. I pull the harness on and lock it over my chest. Jennifer veers the big machine right off the road, over a ditch and into a bean field, tearing up a big track of foliage and earth behind us.

  "We'll pay them back," she says, glancing back at me.

  She opens the throttle and the thing speeds up, throwing me around in half a dozen different directions, bouncing me against the seat, while she remains calm as could be, her tightly corded forearms wrestling with the steering yoke.

  "We can't go in guns blazing," she says.

  "Why not?"

  "Because they'll know we're coming. I just hope we can get there before they move the girl. If we don't nail this we'll lose her."

  "Have you done something like this before?"

  "Yes," she says. "Yes I have. Not far now."

  Alexis

  Now

  Please, please, please.

  Help me.

  My old prayers come flooding back. The cuffs dig at my wrists, and the straps dig into my body, my stomach, my chest. They just left me in here in the dark. I hear voices outside. People pass by. I see their shadows slide across my wall, flickering into existence and passing back out again, watching and hoping. Hawk is not dead, he's not. I can feel it, like a warm heat in my chest. They took him away from me once, they never will again. He's coming, he's coming, he's coming.

  Then the door opens and a doctor walks in.