Axillon99

by Matthew S. Cox

  “We take the fight to CSI… or something. I dunno, can’t really think right now. But I know where we can go and be safe for a little while.” Dakota glanced at Eric. “Are you guys willing to meet up for real and lay low?”

  “Do you have any proof of anything?” asked Christina.

  “Just red marks on my wrists from being handcuffed and a stun gun burn.”

  “And a couple of bruises on her face.” Eric leaned closer to the phone. “I’ve known Dakota for a while now, and for what it’s worth, I ain’t never seen her so freaked out. I believe her.”

  “Well, if only so I can at least check you over.” Christina gave an address in Hartford, Connecticut, which Eric keyed into the GPS.

  “Little bit of a ride,” said Dakota. “But that’s okay.”

  “I can keep an eye on things for a bit. Got a feeling Miss Lee isn’t armed. You go on and get her first. I’ll be here.” William rattled off an address in Philadelphia.

  She glanced at Eric. “Is your mother okay with us using the car for such a long trip?”

  “Yeah. She only keeps it around for emergencies. Don’t use it much.” He dropped it in drive and pulled out into traffic.

  “What about Nighthawk?” asked Dakota.

  “I’ll let him know. Don’t worry about it,” said William.

  “Okay, we’re on the way.”

  “This place you’re thinking of,” asked Christina, “does it have net access?”

  “Yeah. Pretty decent connection too, for the area.”

  “For the area?” asked William.

  “It’s, umm… off the grid. But safe. My brother is there. Why would we need our rigs?”

  Christina chuckled. “Well, if we’re going to be laying low, we’ll need something to do instead of sitting around bored.”

  “Yeah.” William chuckled. “And since we’ve got nothing better to do, we might as well hunt down that prize. Or, we go back into that little hidden spot and kick CSI in the balls so hard they won’t come near us again… or near you.”

  Dakota nodded. “I like the sound of that. See you both soon.”

  “Be safe,” said Christina.

  “Don’t rush. Anyone comes through my door without an invite, they’re going to have a bad day.” Two metallic rattles followed, like William patted his rifle.

  Eric pulled to a stop in a fire lane by Dakota’s apartment building. No suspicious black cars lurked anywhere in sight, but she didn’t fully trust it.

  “This is so stupid. My apartment is the first place they’d look.” She shivered.

  “They probably think you went straight to the cops. Those dudes are halfway to Mexico by now I bet.”

  “I didn’t even see them. Only the one guy. Damn blindfold.” She exhaled into her hands, warm breath over numb fingers. “I’ve never been so fucking scared in my entire life… except once.” Her brain forced an old memory in the way to distract her.

  “Do I want to ask?”

  She grinned. “It’s funny now, but I almost shit myself back then.”

  “Let’s go get your stuff, explain on the ride.”

  “Okay.”

  She darted out of the car. Eric ran after her into the building and up the stairs to the fifth floor. It took her six minutes to pack the helmet and PlayStation in a duffel, and toss in a couple spare bits of clothing and a few extra sets of panties.

  “Wow,” said Eric. “They tossed your apartment and didn’t even touch the helmet.”

  Dakota pulled the zipper on the duffel shut. “Huh? No one tossed my apartment.”

  He looked around at the clothes on the floor, the monolith of Chinese take-out containers on the desk, and the general state of disarray. “Oh.”

  “This is clean for me.” She winked and pulled the duffel up onto her shoulder. “Maybe they couldn’t find my address, just traced me back to an ISP. I don’t have much of an on-grid footprint. Probably why they nabbed me so close to the café, and not out of my bed in the middle of the night.”

  Eric put an arm around her. “We need to take this to the cops. As soon as we cook up a decent enough story to keep you sounding innocent.”

  She stifled a laugh. “Yeah. Well, I could always say I thought it was part of the game. Cops might buy that given how TURBAN set it up. Most gamers would’ve thought that was a side quest.”

  “Speaking of side quests, how much XP was the kidnap mission worth?”

  She slugged him in the shoulder. “I don’t want that experience. I freely surrender those memories.”

  He held her close for a moment, softly rocking her side to side.

  “We should get going,” said Dakota, her cheek mushed into his shoulder.

  “Right.”

  Once they’d returned to the car and got moving again, she let out a long sigh.

  “So, umm, what was that scary thing?” asked Eric, grinning.

  She chuckled. “I was like six years old. My dad’s a high functioning autistic, I think. Something’s not quite right with his social abilities. Anyway… what do you get a six-year-old girl for her birthday?”

  “Whatever she’s into,” said Eric. “He get you dolls or something when you wanted computer stuff?”

  Dakota grinned. “Wow. Right answer. But, no… he got me a toy fire truck.”

  Eric laughed.

  “I definitely wasn’t into fire trucks.” She shrugged. “But he tried. Anyway, this fire truck wound up in cabinet at the foot of my bed. Thing made siren noises with flashing lights. So, fast-forward a couple months. Somehow, it shorted out and in the middle of the night, turns itself on. The batteries had run down, so it didn’t come all the way on. Instead of a siren and flashing lights, the little headlights glow like the eyes of a demon and it makes this Mrrrrrrr sound like a zombie cat.”

  “Shit…” Eric whistled.

  “I almost did. I screamed my damn head off.” She grinned. “By the time my mom woke up and came to check on me, the thing had stopped making noise. I start ranting and pointing that there’s a monster in the cabinet, and of course Mom is rolling her eyes and trying to get me to go back to sleep so she can go back to bed. Well, the damn fire truck turns itself on again… and my mother jumps behind me, like I’m going to protect her.”

  Eric cackled. “Oh damn. Too bad you didn’t have that on video.”

  “Yeah…” She glanced out the window at the passing buildings, daydreaming about how her mother was before she cracked. “You know, I spent the past few years thinking my parents took an express train to Crazy Town with all that conspiracy stuff.”

  “Damn. Sorry.”

  She turned her head to look at him, half-smiling. “CSI is selling access to people’s brains. Maybe Mom and Dad were right after all.”

  Return Fire

  28

  Two hours and thirty-eight minutes later, Eric pulled into an apartment complex on the outskirts of Hartford. They drove past five rectangular two-story buildings each with eight doors, four at ground level and four along a second-story walkway. From the size, she figured each building housed sixteen apartments, with another eight doors on the opposite face. When they spotted Unit F on the right, Eric stopped in a parking space between a brown minivan that looked like it narrowly escaped a post-apocalyptic wasteland and a brand new Toyota Camry.

  Dakota pushed her door open and stood. A group of people hanging out by the building, some up on the second-floor walkway, some in groups at ground level, all stopped talking at the same time and stared at her. A guy in his sixties working a barbecue grill and two twelve-ish boys with him stared curiously at her from the left-most door on building F. A pack of six young men, possibly Chinese, congregated on the walkway running along in front of the second-story apartments. They approached the banister to watch her, their expressions a mixture of suspicion and territorial aggression.

  Trying to ignore them all and act casual, she approached the door marked F3. As soon as she passed under the overhead walkway, the men resumed muttering in no
t-English. She stepped up onto a shallow concrete porch between a pair of white plastic chairs and rang the bell. Eric stopped beside her, hands in his pockets, and attention on the area around them.

  The door opened, revealing a twentysomething Chinese woman in a tank top and jeans, barefoot. “Oh, hi. You must be Fawkes.”

  “Dakota actually, but if you want to call me Fawkes, that works.” She shrugged and offered a hand. “Christina?”

  “Yep. That’s me.” Christina pulled her arm close and studied her wrist. “Hmm. That doesn’t look too bad, but there’s some cuts. Come in, let me swab that with some disinfectant.”

  Dakota bit her lip. “I dunno if we have time, but… I gotta pee anyway.”

  “Bathroom’s right down the hall. How long do you expect we’ll be away? Should I ask my mother to watch after my cats?” asked Christina.

  She hurried down the hall toward the indicated white door. “I really don’t know. Might not be a bad idea to ask her.”

  A patch of pink on a small table in a bedroom at the end of the hall caught her eye, a ‘Happy 35th’ birthday card. Dakota blinked. Wow. She looks like she’s my age. Mildly jealous, she stepped into the bathroom. A pair of all-grey cats with piercing teal eyes zoomed in before she could close the door. Both sat like statues watching her pee.

  “What?” asked Dakota.

  Neither cat reacted.

  “Your cats are weird,” she said in a loud voice.

  Christina chuckled.

  She let her head sag, enjoying the brief respite from being in a car plus the relief of finally unloading her overfull bladder. Eric and Christina’s conversation murmured in from out in the hall, mostly talking about the ride up. The cats continued staring at her all the way up until she flushed. She checked herself out in the mirror, having been in too much of a rush when she’d been home to do so. Some bruising showed on her cheeks, worse on the left from the heavy slap, but they looked more like shadows and would probably be gone in a day or two.

  When Dakota returned to the kitchen, Christina dabbed at her wrists with an alcohol pad. She also checked out the burn on her thigh. Considering the woman a medical professional, and Eric her boyfriend, she dropped her pants.

  Eric gave her a surprised eyebrow lift.

  “I’m sure a nurse has seen much more of people than panties,” said Dakota.

  “Oh, that doesn’t look too bad. Is it still sore to the touch?”

  “A little, but only the two dots, not the whole red oval.” Dakota snarled. “That sucked so much. My legs just went out instantly. I couldn’t even move.”

  Christina dabbed some burn cream on the spot and peppered her with questions about pain, soreness, dizziness, muscle weakness and so on.

  “No not really. My wrists are sore and my jaw hurts a little, but mostly, mental damage. I’m gonna be on edge for a while.”

  “That’s totally normal for what happened.” Christina re-capped the tube of burn cream. “You really ought to go to the police with this.”

  “Eric said the same thing.” She folded her arms. “And I will. After I’ve had a chance to get back in there and get everything I can get. They messed with the wrong woman.”

  “Right on.” Eric clapped her on the shoulder.

  Christina fidgeted.

  “A day or two, tops. If we don’t get anywhere, I promise I’ll get the police involved.”

  “All right. Let me collect some things and call my mother about the cats.”

  Both cats trailed Christina back into the apartment.

  “Oh, shit.” Dakota pulled out her phone and called Hal.

  While Christina packed some things, Dakota explained a brief version of events to her boss, that some men tried to abduct her, but she escaped.

  “I’m gonna miss a couple days, okay?”

  “You go to the police?” asked Hal.

  Why is everyone obsessed with the police? Tell someone you were kidnapped and it’s like the first thing they say. “Not yet. I’m… not quite in the right emotional space for that.”

  “Well, you need ta do that soon. Don’t wait. You take the time you need. I’ll cover it.” He chuckled. “But don’t be a stranger, you hear? If you’re not back in a couple days, call me and tell me how you’re doing, deal?”

  “Yeah, definitely. Thanks, Hal. You’re the best.”

  “Go to the cops.”

  Dakota fidgeted. “I will.” Just not yet.

  “I’m here if you need to talk, you know.”

  Her voice faltered. “Thanks… I’ll probably ask you to walk me home for a while once I’m back.”

  “Done.”

  “I’ll call you in a couple days.”

  “And call the police. Take care.”

  After she hung up, she used the phone to take pictures of the handcuff marks, the stun gun burn, and her bruised face. Evidence couldn’t hurt…

  Christina walked out from the hall with a backpack and a small, wheeled suitcase. She’d also put sneakers on. “All right. My mother’s going to check on the cats. I’m still not sure how I let someone I just met talk me into a spontaneous road trip, but I guess I’m ready when you are.”

  “Technically, we didn’t just meet.” Dakota rubbed the red mark on her left wrist. “You use your real voice in the game. I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask but it’s possible that all of us could wind up in deep legal shit for that back door. Before I roll those dice with the cops, I’d prefer to have a little time to maybe think of a better option.”

  “You use your real voice, too.” Christina set her bag on the floor and scooped up both cats. “Okay you guys, Mommy’s going to be away for a day or two. Be good to Grandma when she stops by to check on you.”

  The grey cats squirmed and pawed at the air, clearly eager to escape being hugged.

  “You talk to your cats?” asked Eric.

  Christina set them down, stood back up, and nodded. “Oh yeah. All real cat parents do.”

  “Right…” Dakota headed outside.

  Eric followed.

  She stopped to wait a few steps away from the tiny porch while Christina locked the deadbolt. A squeal of tires made her look up and to the left at a small black SUV tearing across the parking lot. The dark-tinted passenger side windows rolled down in front and back, exposing a pair of men in ski masks with submachine guns.

  Dakota didn’t even have time to scream before Eric flew into her from behind. Rapid cracks of gunfire erupted from her right. Christina crashed against her side a second before they both ate hedge bush, with Eric’s weight coming down on top of them.

  Another fusillade of gunfire went off directly above them. Pings and clanks came from everywhere. Beneath the din of shooting, an engine revved. Tires peeled out. Gunshots slowed to a trickle, then stopped.

  Young men shouting in Chinese filled in the subsequent silence.

  Dakota spat out a mouthful of leaves and dirt. She’d landed in the mulch beneath a row of greenery beside the porch. Eric’s right arm encircled her, squeezing her almost painfully into Christina. “What are they saying?”

  “Things a girl shouldn’t say.” Christina spat a few times. “What the hell was that?”

  A young voice shouted, “Take that you dumbass mother fuckers!” and two more small gunshots went off.

  “Jesus H.” Dakota muttered. “That kid’s got a gun…”

  “Looked like a drive by,” said Eric. “Lucky for us you have some interesting neighbors.” He shifted his weight onto his knees and got up off the women, then reached down to help them stand out of the bush. “Anyone hit?”

  One of the boys who couldn’t have been older than twelve stuffed a little handgun in the back of his jeans while walking from the curb across the lawn to the old guy by the barbecue grill. The elder clutched a shotgun and appeared to be struggling with it.

  “Damn, Grandpa,” said the second boy, still holding a handgun, “ya can’t get the damn safety off.”

  Dakota glanced at the parking
lot where only a scattering of brass remained. “I’m not hit. Holy shit! How did they find me?” She stuffed her hands under her armpits to hide the shaking. “And how the fuck are you so calm?”

  “It’s not that bad,” muttered Christina.

  “Easy. This isn’t real. We’re still plugged in and playing a game.” Eric winked.

  “Oh, don’t even go there.” Christina dusted herself off. She took a few steps away from the building until she could see past the overhead deck, and called out in Chinese.

  The men up top waved and nodded at her. Dakota got the sense she thanked them for the help.

  “Also, I don’t think this is about you, babe.” Eric hugged her from behind. “No way in hell would they be able to know we’d come here. They were going for her. I think you’re right. We’re all in danger.”

  Christina glanced at them, a little paler than before. “Eric, you’re bleeding.”

  “Shit.” He twisted to look at his arm. “Where?”

  “Graze on your left side, right above the elbow.”

  “Let’s get out of here before the police show up.” Dakota hurried to the car and got in.

  “They won’t.” Christina hopped in the back seat. “We get one or two of those a week here. Cops occasionally roll by to look for bodies, but that’s about it. To them, it’s just the undesirables thinning themselves out.”

  Eric leapt into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and looked over his shoulder at her. “Why the hell do you live in a place where goddam twelve-year-olds pack heat?”

  “Random gun violence works wonders on rent.” Christina’s eyes betrayed her fear, but she continued acting nonchalant. “The guys upstairs look out for me because I help out whenever they get themselves injured. Let her drive, you sit back here so I can take a look at that wound.”

  “Shit that stings.” Eric glanced at Dakota. “You got a license?”

  “Not technically, but I do know how to drive.”

  He groaned. “If you wanna stay out of jail, we better not tempt fate.”

  The guys up on the second floor deck nodded or waved at them as Eric backed out of the spot and drove away. Christina shifted forward and attempted to look at the injury, but the gap between the door and seat didn’t offer enough room.