Heroine Hearts

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  My heart breaks as I take note of the hopefulness in her voice at asking that.

  “Please tell me you are...”

  Her words are met with silence, but she starts to smile and she mouths a thank you and I can’t help but feel panicked.

  “Stop her!” Joaquín orders, a heated breath wrapping around the words he speaks. “She’s going fucking crazy talking to dead people!”

  Listening, Santiago throws his food aside and launches himself at Isla, his steps heavy and with reason.

  “Eighteen,” Santiago snares, grabbing onto her and hauling her entire body up. “Shut the fuck up! No one’s there!” He bellows at her, shaking her to break her from the delirium his caused.

  But it’s what Isla does next that scares me most - Isla attacks Santiago.

  She launches her entire body at him and doesn’t care as he’s knocked from his feet. She starts a frenzy, but all I’m interested in is the fact that this bastard is getting a moment of his own comeuppance. I’m satisfied when she claws his face, leaving four bloodied red lines down his cheek.

  I struggle to suppress my amusement, secretly proud of my girl for striking out, but I know the consequences will be deadly.

  “Get her the fuck away from me!” He bellows, struggling to get a hold of her hands. “The puta is fucking crazy!”

  As Santiago’s men strike, viciously grabbing Isla and tearing her away. She fights them, screaming bloody murder as she wrestles to get free.

  “Crazy cunt!” Santiago insults her as he picks himself up from the floor.

  “She’s not crazy!” I declare, standing up and rushing in toward them both.

  “Oh, the fucking hero’s here,” Santiago snarls, throwing a look of total disgust at me.

  “You’re a fucking idiot,” I insult, uncaring for his reaction. “She’s only reacting because it’s a bad mix!” I yell at him, hating him for using Isla as the test dummy. “Put her down because all you’re doing is making her trip worse!” I shake my head as Santiago looks at me dumbly. “LSD is fucking known for being linked to moods. She’s full of anxiety and dread as it is, you gave her a drug that will make that worse.”

  “Oh, she’s had a high before!” Santiago admonishes, uncaring for the girl before us. “She’s just showing her true colors.”

  I growl taking a few steps forward, but Santiago’s men step in the way, defending him but blocking my direct route to him, but I don’t back down. I speak to him through them, uncaring that they’re there. I won’t sit silently at the side now.

  “What you gave her was in her system too quick and you played with her mental state... fucking pretending to be her father firstly, then picking her up when she was clearly in the middle of some warped delusion over a girl who died here!” I look at Isla, now lying insentient once more before returning my heavy gaze to Santiago. “She attacked you because she was frightened and in her mind you’re probably a thousand times worse to her right now than ever before! And the fact she’s like she is tells me it’s a bad batch. I’m telling you, the drugs are fucked up!”

  “I provoked her you said so yourself!” he defends, laughing off my accusation. “The batch is fine!”

  “Yeah, and she’s fearful of this fucking place enough that you just gave her a drug to exacerbate everything tenfold! If you’re preparing to dish these out like fucking candy, make sure you know what you’re dealing with! Everyone knows hallucinogenic drugs fuck up a person’s mental state!” I reiterate, trying to make him see sense. “They play with the person’s mind, their mood, fuck it plays with their desires! And you force fed her a belief that her father was here!” I continue to push against his henchmen, unwilling to let him win this. “I get that you want faster rates and bigger highs, but at what cost?” I ask, worrying about how negative this trip is being for Isla. In my entire past, I have never seen a trip with LSDs go this drastically wrong. “Sometimes I wonder where logic goes when greed comes to play!”

  As if to make my point proven, Isla emits a tiny noise and while her petite body shakes as the shock of everything comes into full effect, I watch in horror as she begins to convulse. Isla’s frail body begins to shake, her body arching as she seizes and I notice foam forming around her mouth.

  I attack both the men blocking my way, their shock making it an easier feat. As they fall apart, I rush between them, dropping to my knees and I struggle to turn Isla onto her side while she continues to fit.

  “Fucking help me!” I scream at Santiago as he stands there frozen. “I need some help!”

  It’s Hector that steps in and helps, holding Isla’s shoulders so she doesn’t fall from her side and onto her back. If she starts to vomit, then she risks suffocating and choking to death and I won’t allow her to die at the hands of Santiago and his egotistical need to pursue his father’s pride.

  “C’mon Isla,” I whisper at her, praying she’ll soon stop fitting.

  I lean in closer, forcing her mouth open to check her airwaves. When I hear easy breaths, I release a heavy exhale and sit back up.

  Chloe, one of the girls I’ve seen dote on Isla comes over, sitting by her head, pulling her hair out of her face. Calmly, she starts to talk to Isla and strives to remind her that help is here. I know she’s safer here right now than out of my sight, so I look to Hector and give a weak smile.

  “You good there?” I ask Hector, and even though he nods, I can tell he’s stricken by this turn of events. “Just make sure she stays like this.”

  “Will do,” he agrees, his hands not moving from her arm and shoulder.

  Seeing he’s good on his word, I get up and make a beeline for Santiago, wanting nothing more than to use my fists and not my words. But I tell myself to calm, knowing that using my anger will only compromise everything more.

  “I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself!” I bellow at Santiago, charging so aggressively not one man stands a chance at blocking my way. “You gave her a drug that’s got a primary side effect of anxiety, but she’s convulsing with it! Are you going to continue to tell me it’s just the drugs?”

  “It is!”

  “She’s convulsing on your drug!” I say, pointing straight at Isla as her fitting starts to dwindle some. “I’ve seen a lot of people take LSD in my past and never have I ever seen this sort of horror show come from it! So I’ll ask again... what else was in the drugs?” I ask, pushing him with two hands to his chest. “What else did you mix into the drugs before putting it on the papers?”

  “Maybe the dose is just too high for her tolerance,” Santiago reproves, ignoring my interrogation.

  “The dose wasn’t too high,” I grind out, pushing him away. “The drug is a bad drug! You’re prepared to have that happen across America are you, Santiago? Because if you are you will have to do a lot of hiding! No dealer will want the reputation that drug will bring with it! You’ll have every law enforcement agency hot on your heels!” With raging breaths and a wild stare, I don’t hesitate to deliver my next line. “You’ll be a dead man walking if you sell this.”

  The fact that, to me, he is already a dead man walking is irrelevant. I’m more than eager to put the fear of Christ up him if it’ll knock him down a few pegs. He needs to see that his greed for power and money isn’t going to work if he sends out a deadly drug.

  He’s signing the El Salvador’s death warrant.

  The horror that illuminates his eyes is delicious and I take great delight in being able to evoke such a wild reaction in him. I’m proving that even the strong will fall and if Joaquín wants Santiago to follow on this cartel he’s got a lot of growing up to do. This world may be about greed, but it’s more about power. Santiago’s need for a higher monetary value will be his undoing. While Joaquín enjoys the power his position holds, he loves to invoke fear and have the masses listen to him. Santiago would destroy all of this.

  “You can’t seriously want to take this global?” I ask, my voice rising only out of sheer rage.

  “I still don’t believe
my son could make a batch that wrong,” Joaquín utters, unable to look away from Isla as he steps toward the scene playing out here clearly trying to believe it all. “Why would he bring something so ridiculous to my table and present me with a product that will never go further than a manufacturing room?”

  Abhorrence becomes a friend of mine as once again I dislike the thoughts in my head, but I know I have to be cruel to be kind. I look down at Isla as she now seems to be sleeping and I hate that no one here has the appropriate medical training to help her.

  It’s what makes this worse than ever.

  “I can prove the drugs are duds,” I declare, raising my head. “Get me the load it came from,” I order, my eyes falling onto Santiago. “You made it, you bring me it. I’ll prove to you that it’s not her being a delinquent, but it’s your fucked up drugs causing this!”

  “How do you propose to do that?” Santiago asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  He’s challenging me, but he won’t like that I won’t back down.

  “By giving her another trip, but from a different lot than the ones you gave your father,” my idea is granted gasps of shocks, but I have to stick to it. I know what I’m doing and I hope my assumptions pay off. “Give her a few hours to sleep this off and bring her back,” my idea prompts Joaquín to mull over the idea, his lip twitching thoughtfully. “I’ll prove to you it’s the drugs. I’ll stop the El Salvador being made a fool of.”

  Casting a look my way, an eyebrow cocked with indifference, but slowly Joaquín’s shoulders start to drop.

  “Okay,” he agrees, giving into a whim I don’t even know is fool proof. “Have her moved to the main living quarters where she can be watched closely. We’ll bring her back in before dinner.”

  When they bring Isla back into the room, the sun beginning to set around us, I catch every part of her sallow face, her eyes blackened, her lips cracking, and her gaze barely seen under hooded eyelids. She’s not quite yet grounded which tells me she’s still dealing with the lasting effects of the drugs.

  However, she does cast a look at me through heavy eyes and I catch every ounce of pain and despair she’s caught in. Her body must be raging full of the come-down and the itch and neither are being fed or numbed. I can’t even imagine what the mental implications have been and she’s not being given a chance to understand them.

  “Is this wise?” Hector asks, coming to stand beside me.

  “It’s now or never,” I tell him. I’m fully aware that the last lot of drugs could still be in her system, but I know waiting this long has agitated Santiago. “Shall we?” I ask, putting my hand out.

  “I guess,” Santiago sneers, opening up a fresh load of the tainted blotter papers. “Let me give it to the puta.”

  “No,” I stop him, reach for the batch. “You’re going nowhere near her. I’ll do it.”

  He goes to argue but his father clears his throat, telling him to step away. He listens and falls back from the table leaving his creation on them. I break away one of the squares taking a steadying breath as I do so and turn to walk to Isla.

  She watches me, a doleful expression worn so beautifully by her that it steals my breath from me. I never intended to play the devil’s advocate, but for her, I’ll be the devil if it means saving her. She can’t pay for more sins when she wasn’t herself. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind when she lashed out. Fuck, she’d just been talking to my dead sister and Santiago was adamant it wasn’t the drugs doing it to her.

  I can see from her glazed eyes she’s not sure what’s happening, hoping that her punishment would’ve ended, but I still need to do this to her and find some medical products to clear her up. The dose Santiago gave her left her restless and completely unpredictable. I thought the best idea was that we left her be until she was in a clear head-space.

  I’m about to set that idea back.

  “Open,” I order, but softer than Santiago did earlier.

  There’s a moment where Isla just stares at me, her pupils dilated some and she looks ready to decline. However, I just remain with my finger out and my eyes stuck on her. I say nothing; just continue to gaze at her hoping that she’ll take notice of all the words I can’t speak. My eyes are soft toward her, not holding any animosity and I hope she can read that I’m not the enemy and I’m not doing this to be part of Joaquín’s men.

  Slowly, her mouth parts and she pokes her tongue out a tiny bit. Holding the tiny square steady, I lean in, moving my finger up to her mouth, letting it stick to her tongue. With ease, she takes the drug into her mouth, closing her lips around it.

  She rocks back on her feet as they sit beneath her and she watches me as we linger waiting for the minutes to lapse by.

  It’s while we sit and wait, I watch her morph again. Forgotten is the girl that beguiled me, that wrapped herself around my every thought and dragged me into a bliss I never expected. She’s lost in the drugged haze that befriends her every cell, taking her over.

  She’s no longer Eighteen, nor is she Isla.

  She’s a stranger – to herself and to us.

  “Isla,” I say, reaching out to touch her.

  My fingers tips graze her skin and it seems to burn her. She snatches her hand away and I realize that immediately this trip isn’t like the last. She’s enthralled by anger, preparing to unleash a fine fury.

  “Get off me!” she lashes out, her hands balled into fists as they lash out. “Don’t touch me!”

  I allow her to hit me as if this is what I deserve for all I’m putting her through. I should try to stop her punches, try to block her scratches, but even as I feel her catch my eye and scrap down my temple, I don’t attempt anything.

  “Isla,” I say, breathing her name with ease. I don’t call her their nickname, I stick to her real name, giving her the identity she wants. “Isla,” I say it again, my tone as soft as before. “Isla, listen to me.”

  She continues to fight but she’s weakening. Not from physical weakness, but from my affection. Like Santiago did earlier, I’m playing with her emotions, but this time, my intent is from an honest depth. I want her calm and docile. I don’t want her vicious like she is. That isn’t her. I know enough to know that.

  “Isla,” I say one final time, taming her completely.

  My accomplishment is gone thought when she drops in front of me, all fight and rage gone. She sways a little and I furrow my brow as I watch her. Something’s not right.

  “I don’t feel good,” she mutters, her face becoming paler than ever.

  Her statement is followed by instant vomiting and she starts to stand on weak knees. As she begins to fall, I catch her, sending a deathly glare to Santiago. I hold onto Isla’s limp body, struggling to move her away from the sick splattered on the ground in order to lay her down, but her body jerks in my arms. At first, it’s just once, but then her entire body spasms as a seizure claims her again.

  I set her down, Hector reacts and a shot of déjà vu washes over me. It’s heightened as Chloe comes back, but this time, she’s brought Sasha with her. They both sit at her head but allow me a moment to move her hair from her face, feeling how unbelievably hot she’s become and I flare my nostrils as I struggle with what to do. There’s no help here, no medications, no way to get her to a hospital.

  I decide my wayward emotions should fuel me and I look up at my boss, glad to see his unease at what’s transpiring here.

  Again, as the trip starts to dwindle, Isla reacts the same – convulsing violently. I hate that I’ve made this second time occur, but I needed her to be out of the red zone. I couldn’t allow Santiago to use her attacking him as a reason for a repeat of today. They had to see she had no control whatsoever over this.

  Now, they do.

  It’s not her, it’s them.

  “Trust your son now, huh?” I ask, snarling through gritted teeth. “You think this is a good side effect now?”

  “We can’t risk sending these out!” Joaquín bellows, going for his son. “What the
fuck is in them to make this happen?”

  “Just the normal stuff, a little extra to heighten it, but nothing malicious!” Santiago defends, reacting like a scolded child. “I was trying to make you proud. See that I am capable!”

  “I’ve seen what you are capable of and you’re far more dangerous than anyone outside of these walls!” Joaquín insults, disgust riddling every single syllable he spouts. “You’re not doing us any good when the results are this! This is why we gave Thomas the fucking job we did! He trials the drugs, makes sure we don’t have these sorts of hiccups!”

  He points at us, all around Isla and I divert my attention to her. I sit quietly while Chloe sits and soothes her, the seizing ebbing away and dwindling down once more. This was worse than before and I want her out of sight before she comes to. I want her to not recall any of this. The embarrassment she’ll feel scolds me to the core and I can’t allow it.

  “She’s stopped fitting, so you could properly take her back to her room. Just make sure she’s on her side at all times. We can’t guarantee that it’s all passed,” I throw out instructions uncaring of anyone else. I look at Hector, entrusting him with her. “She’ll be exhausted when she comes to. She’ll need her rest and plenty of fluids.”

  Hector looks at Joaquín, as if for additional orders, but the boss just nods his head and allows him to listen to me. He begins to stand, scooping Isla up into his arms. As he starts for the door, I look at Joaquín, finding that I don’t care for my repercussions.

  “I don’t care what she’s done; you need to take better care of those girls before they start to die off from malnutrition and overexertion. What just happened could well have killed her. Fuck, the repercussions for her could be dire and you allowed us to do it to her twice.”