by Mark Tufo
The guard who was already attempting to grind his weapon into dust was imperceptibly moving the barrel of his weapon upwards. I don’t even think he consciously knew he was doing it.
“Enough, Mr. Talbot. I had not wished to force your hand, but I have your family. I will do whatever is necessary to secure the resources I desire.”
“What exactly is that?” I growled.
“Your blood, your incredible blood.”
“I found the needle holes. I would imagine you have more than you could possibly need for whatever you’re trying to do. But then again…I guess not, because if that were the case, I’m sure I’d be dead. What’s the matter? One of your clumsy lab techs drop the tray and it spilled all over the floor?”
“No, nothing quite so mundane. It appears that the vampiric virus will not sustain itself outside of its host…which is you.”
“How fortuitous of me.”
“Quite. We need you to bite someone.”
“Come closer, I’ll do it now.” I opened my mouth.
The man before me stretched his neck, gulped and rubbed his right hand along the side of his wrinkly skin.
“Oh, no, not you. Right? You’d never risk your aged ass. I’m sure you’ve got a bunch of lackeys you can toss in here with me. Why don’t you get one of these fine upstanding men to come a little closer?”
The guards looked amongst themselves, unsure what each would do if he did indeed order them to do just that.
“You will give me what I want, Michael, if it takes the blood of your family to make it happen.”
“I have no soul. What makes you think I care?”
The man looked long and hard at me. Here was an adversary to be wary of. He was intelligent; I’m sure in orders of magnitude more than me. He was cagey and would be able to lie without a momentary pang of regret for doing so. Plus, he projected an air of authority and fearlessness. I knew in the span that it took my heart to contract and expand that he was a politician.
“You’re lying, Mr. Talbot. I have been around some of the most adept liars this country has ever known. You’re not even in the same league.”
“I think I should be honored by that.”
He had a small laugh. “Perhaps. Let’s start over, you and I, shall we?”
I nodded. “Whatever floats your boat.”
He pursed his lips ever so slightly, but like the good little voted-in liar he was, he did not let it show any more than that. He was practiced at this routine. Showing one caring, trusting face to the populace while simultaneously devising optimum ways to screw them and further himself. He was a lot like the scum I’d been happening upon these last few months, only, he had much more power.
“My name is Dixon Hawes.”
“That’s a nice, southern name. Where is your drawl? Or did you get rid of that because it made you sound stupid?”
His lips pursed again. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, I was beginning to ruffle his feathers. I would think that normally he would just ignore me or, if the need necessitated it, he’d just have me killed. But he couldn’t—not yet anyway. I had something he desired, shit, coveted might be a better word.
“Mr. Talbot, you are in a cell. I have three armed men with me. I am holding your family. I am in control here.”
“You keep telling yourself that.”
“Bring the youngest one in.” Dixon was speaking to the camera on the far side of the hallway.
“Hey, dipshit,” I whispered to the guard whose weapon was about midway up his thigh. “When I get out, I’m going to save you for last. First, I’m going to round up all those you care for, starting with the goat and then—”
“Fuck you!” The rifle came up, the first bullet striking the bars and ricocheting off the back wall. The second round caught me square in the side. The third burned up my arm as it traveled down the length of it. I had wrapped my hand around the barrel and was pulling the gun and the gunman toward me.
“NO! You fool!” Dixon was screaming as he turned back around.
I snapped at least two of the guard’s fingers as I twisted the rifle up and away from him. I quickly pulled the rifle through the bars and had two rounds in the guard’s head before he had a chance to wrap his undamaged hand around his broken fingers. The other two guards were bringing their weapons up.
“Drop them or I’ll drill your boss.”
I now had muzzles pointing to my midsection, even as mine was trained on Hawes’.
“Mr. Hawes, I’m sure I can take another bullet or two before I’m incapacitated. Can you?”
“Drop them,” Dixon said with force.
His guards seemed reluctant but, ultimately, did as he ordered and put their weapons gently on the floor.
“Now, if you could be so kind as to push one of those over to my friend, that would be much appreciated.” One of the guards was shaking with impotent rage. “I asked nicely, now hurry the fuck up.” I put my rifle up by my shoulder. “You two are dismissed.” They looked to Dixon but left before he could agree or order them to stay.
“You can’t get out of here, Mr. Talbot.”
“Maybe…maybe not, Dixon. But if I don’t get out, then neither do you.”
He laughed, it was forced, but he laughed. “I am merely a cog in the machinery here. My bosses may mourn my passing, but business will go on as usual, I can assure you of that.”
I watched him intently as sweat formed on his brow, beaded up, and sluiced off the side of his head. Dennis was checking his weapon to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off.
“Wow, you know, I really didn’t think karma was going to come into play this quickly, Mr. Hawes.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked haughtily.
“You see, I’ve raised a daughter, and in her teenage years she was about the most skilled fabricator of the truth I have ever seen. I mean, Mr. Hawes, it was amazing. I would have indisputable evidence to some minor crime of hers, and she would never waver in her declaration of innocence to whatever the offense was. I mean, it got to the point where I would begin to doubt myself. It was amazing, it really was.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“I was getting to that if you hadn’t so rudely interrupted me,” I said angrily enough that the two guards put their hands up in a placating manner. “What I’m saying is that, you, Mr. Hawes, are lying through your ass. Funny that I should now be thanking my daughter for all those years of torture she put me through. I don’t think you’re some indispensable cog—I think you run the show here. You’re just cocky enough to come down for a visit in the slums. I saw the lust in your eyes when you thought about the immortality that my blood could offer you. Funny thing is, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t even need to give anything up to get it.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“Your soul. I don’t think you have one. That’s what I’m saying.”
“This is irrelevant. Kill me or don’t, but like I said, I’m mid-level at best. All I could really do for you is get you a better pillow for your cell.”
“Is that true?” I asked one of the guards.
“Of course it is!” Dixon answered.
“I was talking to him. Interrupt me one more time, Dix,” he bristled at the abbreviation, “and I’m going to put one in your kneecap while I get this figured out. You want to talk about painful? Shit…it’s bad, and I’m thinking that, at your advanced age, you probably won’t be a good candidate for a replacement. You’ll never walk right again. You’ll have to kiss babies in a wheelchair. Although, what God-fearing mother would ever let your lizard-looking mug touch their most precious commodity is a mystery to me. So I’m asking again, Mr. Guardman, how replaceable is my guest?”
The guard looked from me to Dixon.
“If I even get a whisper of a hint that you are telling me anything but the truth, I will shoot you in the scrotum.”
“Dude, the scrotum?” Dennis asked.
“I want him to l
ive long enough to regret his decision.”
“But the scrotum?!”
“I know, man, but harsh times call for harsh measures.” I turned to the guard. “Well?”
“You’re right. He runs the show.”
“Purdoch!” Dixon yelled.
“Fuck you! He killed Nelson, and he’s threatening to kill me. I’m not dying for you.”
“See how quickly they turn,” I said to Dixon. “Your money and influence will only go so far. If he cared about and respected you, he would have taken that bullet for you. And shame on you,” I said to the guard. “By definition you are supposed to guard him with your life. Get out of here before I kill you.”
“You’re going to let him go? Just like that? He’ll go and get help,” Dennis warned.
“Buddy, we’ve got at least three cameras on us that I know about. They’re well aware of what is going on down here, the only reason they haven’t busted down the door and blown us to shit is because of our new best friend.”
“I told you this would happen, you stupid shit!” a voice came over the loud speaker next to the camera.
“Hello, Mrs. Deneaux,” I said. “You should come down here. We could have a little reunion.”
Her cackling sounded much like what I figured a mule’s bray would, if shards of glass were being dragged down its back. “Oh no, dear, I’m much too frail for this kind of confrontation.”
“Frail my ass,” Dennis mumbled.
“I was going to say that.” I glanced over at him. “That battle-axe is going to outlive all of us.”
“Your concern is overwhelming,” she replied.
“Vivian, I could use a little help,” Dixon said, looking toward the camera.
“I warned you about him. I even suggested that you not go down there. Just kill him and be done with it. Do you remember that conversation?”
Dixon looked like he had just stuffed two lemons into his mouth. I don’t think he was used to being admonished, probably hadn’t been talked down to since he was five. He wasn’t taking it well.
“Vivian,” he entreated.
“What did I say? I told you he was resourceful and that your best course of action would be to end his existence.”
I looked up to the camera.
“Well, what did you expect, Michael?” she replied. “It’s a sign of respect that I wanted to get rid of you that quickly, seeing as you’re a huge threat to my continuation. Nothing personal.”
“Nothing personal? You say that like you didn’t pick me for your volleyball team at the company picnic. You wanted to murder me.”
“Pfft, you’re so dramatic.”
“Vivian, get me out of here.”
“How do you expect me to do that? Should I just ask Mr. Talbot to politely let you go? How about it, Michael, will you let him go?”
I placed one hand on my chin for a moment. “I’m going to say… no.”
“There, Dixon. I did my due diligence.”
“Bitch.”
“What was that?” Vivian asked. Obviously it was impossible to tell from this side of the camera, but I would swear she said it with some mirth. “Mr. Talbot, it appears there is a small stand-off taking place right now. I have over a hundred troops waiting on the other side of the cellblock door at the end of this hallway. Even as imaginative as you are, I do not see this as being a happy outcome for you or your friend. What was his name…Denard?”
“I hate her.” Dennis was shaking his head back and forth.
“Easy, buddy, she’s messing with you. If I know her at all, she knows your social security number and who you screwed in high school, if you did anyone at all.”
“Still doesn’t mean I don’t hate her. And hey!”
I thought about it for a second. “Sorry, and yeah, I guess I agree with you on that.” We’d been talking in whispers.
“I don’t like all the soft-speak, Michael. Makes me feel like you’re plotting against me,” Deneaux said.
“Paranoia will eat you up. Never figured you for that type. Alright, let’s talk, Deneaux. I’ve got the big cheese here so what do we have on the table?”
“You have nothing, Michael. You’ve actually done me a great service here. Had not my dolt of a husband been a philandering fool, I would have been ruling here by his side all along. Mr. Hawes there, with my now-dead-husband’s presence and mine missing, had decided that all of this was his. Partly he is right, but mostly he’s wrong. And now, with him firmly in your grasp, you’ve given me the opportunity to ascend to my destined seat.”
“Is she saying I just helped her with a coup?” I was asking Dennis and Dixon.
“Vivian, you can’t be serious? I would have given you a seat on the council.”
“Why should you have given me anything?” she said with disdain. “I earned my spot. It was mine all along. To be honest, Dixon, I don’t trust you.”
“Well, isn’t that the wheel calling the hubcap round,” I said. Dennis looked over at me. I shrugged. “Sounded right, the whole kettle calling the pot black thing is overused.”
“You were always more ambitious than smart. This latest, and last scrap, you find yourself in is proof of that.”
“Wow, she turned fast even for her. Dennis, can you get the camera to your side?” I had a difficult angle, but two shots later I was able to send pieces of the electronic equipment I could see spiraling to the ground. Dixon flinched at every shot.
“I think I can get the one at the end of the hallway as well,” Dennis said. Eight shots later and all of our ears ringing, he did it. “Sorry about that.”
“Dixon, open these doors,” I told him once I was relatively assured we no longer had an external audience.
“What makes you think I have the key?” he asked as he backed up a step.
“Because you’re just that arrogant. And I’m thinking that you would trust no one else in this entire facility with it.”
He looked at me, momentarily stunned at how fast I’d caught him. He was already thinking of a way to cover his bases.
“Listen, before you come up with what you think is a great idea, if you don’t open these doors, you’re useless to me, and I’m just going to riddle your body with bullets. Do I look like I’m lying?” I kept my gaze steady with his.
His head dropped a bit. “No, Mr. Talbot, you do not look like you are lying.” He reached into his pocket, looked from the key to the lock, to me and to the door that led to freedom, before coming forward and sliding the keycard against the locking pad. Sirens from mythology could not have made a more beautiful sound than those tumblers made as they released me. He quickly stepped back as I nearly flew through the opening.
“I think the air is better out here!”
“Any chance you’re going to let me out?” Dennis asked.
“I suppose it could be arranged. Mr. Hawes, I do hereby pardon Dennis Waggoner.”
Dixon unlocked his cell as well.
“Now what?” Dennis asked as we looked down to the end of the hallway where at least three guards were fighting for viewing space on a small eight-by-eight metal-threaded glass port in the heavy steel door.
“Can she take over just like that?” I asked Dixon.
“If I’m dead, sure. There will be no one to oppose her.”
“I guess that makes us allies. It’s that whole Art of War thing, the enemy of my en—”
“I’m familiar with the reference. What assurances do I have that you will not kill me when you get exactly what you want?”
“None, Mr. Hawes. What assurances did I have from you that you weren’t going to kill my family, my friends, and me when you got exactly what you wanted?”
He looked pissed; impotent might be a good word for someone his age, although I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Which, funny enough, he wasn’t as that honor currently belonged to Mrs. Deneaux.
“We’re both alive right now at this very moment, Mr. Hawes. That is really the best I c
an offer. Are you in or are you out? It’s going to be much more difficult if you’re dead, but I’ll still try.”
‘Mr. T?’
“Oh, shit!” I spun, putting my left hand to my head.
“Are you okay?” Dennis asked, placing his hand on my shoulder.
“What? Did I say something out loud?”
“How long did you hang out with that Trip guy?” Dennis asked nervously.
‘Mr. T?’
‘Tommy, are you close? I’m in a bit of trouble.’
“Mike?”
“Hold on, man. Just thinking.” I didn’t want him to know I was communicating telepathically with Tommy; first off, because he might not believe me. Shit, I wouldn’t if the roles were reversed. And secondly, I didn’t want Dixon to know anything.
‘When aren’t you in trouble?’
‘You sound like BT.’ He was silent, waiting for me to elaborate on my predicament. ‘That not funny to you? Fine, I’m in a stand-off with a hundred or so armed men and Mrs. Deneaux at the helm.’
‘How are you still alive?’
‘I have one very important card-slash-hostage.’
‘Important to Deneaux? Are you sure?’
‘Not her, the facility.’
‘That makes more sense.’
‘Are you close to the building?’
‘I’m inside.’
“Holy shit.”
“What?” Dennis was looking around for some new sign of trouble.
“I said that out loud, too?”
“Mike, what the fuck, man?”
‘Do you know where I am?’
‘Not yet, but I’m sure I could follow the steady stream of people heading your way.’
‘Screw me, Tommy! Find my family…our family. Find them and get them the fuck out of here.’
There was hesitation on his side. ‘She’ll kill you, Mr. T.’
‘I know that, you know that, she knows that, my hostage knows that. We’re most likely a lost cause, but if you can get them out of here, I would consider it worth it.’
Again with more hesitation. I was going to force his decision. ‘They are OUR family, Tommy. You have to do everything in your power to get them to safety.’
