Tiger Bound

by Tressie Lockwood

  The worry in Brenda’s expression told her rumors were already flying about town. They strolled along the street side by side, and Deja rubbed her clammy hands on her jeans. The fact that Brenda hadn’t spoken yet said her friend knew the conversation wouldn’t be a good one.

  “I’m leaving,” Deja blurted.

  “Deja,” Brenda sniffed. A tear rolled down her cheek. “You’re coming back, though, right? I mean, the boss said you quit, but this isn’t forever.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know.” She hated seeing Brenda so sad. Her friend might seem outgoing and jovial, but Brenda wasn’t close to many people, and she almost never got to see her brother who lived in Louisiana. Her parents had passed of old age a couple years ago. Why did it seem like everyone in the world was together, but alone in their walk through life? She heaved a sigh to keep herself from crying. “Heath took his dad’s death hard, and then to lose his house too, it was too much. He decided to get away for awhile, you know, a change of scenery. I’m going to meet him there, but I’ll be in touch when we get settled.”

  Brenda drew her into a hug that threatened to crack Deja’s ribs. “You better, girl, or I’m going to come looking for you. I’ll find you!”

  Deja laughed. “I know you will. Don’t worry. Hey, at least I’ll be with him, huh?”

  “Yeah, I always knew it would happen, and send me pictures of my niece or nephew when he comes along too.”

  Deja rolled her eyes. “Please, I’m not pregnant. Not any time soon anyway. Bye, Brenda. Take care of yourself. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Deja. Never forget that.”

  “I won’t.”

  Rather than visit her stepmother to say good-bye, Deja gave her a quick call. They ended up arguing, and she hung up on the stubborn ass woman. Some things would never change. She’d given her the benefit of the doubt, but it didn’t matter. Brenda was more like family. At home, she collected her things and left the keys on the table. The landlord could sell off what she wanted and junk the rest. Nothing she’d accumulated was worth a damn, but when this whole mess ended, she vowed to make everything count, as long as she walked with Heath.

  Both nervous and excited to see him again, she took her arranged ride to the airport and caught a plane to Las Vegas, Nevada. One chapter closed, and another began.

  Chapter Eight

  “Excuse me,” Deja called out to the squat man in dark clothes standing at the curb. “Are you for hire?”

  He peered at her as if she had two heads. Deja frowned, and one hand crept to her hip. She pursed her lips and tilted her head. She had a pounding headache from all the turbulence on the flight, and the attitude she got from the man wasn’t called for.

  “Well?” she demanded. “Are you or aren’t you? The taxis want too much to take me to Logan City, and I’m trying to get there as soon as possible.”

  His expression shifted somewhat at her mention of Logan City, which made her wonder if he knew its location. The place wasn’t a blip on anyone’s radar except the few interested in that kind of thing. “Why do you want to go there?” the man asked.

  She studied his rounded face full of pockmarks from acne. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, and the black suit he wore had seen better days. The shoes on his feet had been polished, but they turned up a bit at the toes, and the leather had cracked across the top. From what she saw, he couldn’t afford to turn down a fare.

  “Why I want to go there is my business,” she said. “Will you take me?”

  Still the damn man hesitated. “Your husband coming?” He glanced over her shoulder, scanning the crowd. She’d caught a taxi away from the airport and into the downtown area, hoping to get a hack or private transportation, which would be cheaper than the taxi.

  Deja patted her purse. “I don’t have a husband, but if you have ideas about taking me somewhere and jumping me, I will wash your eyeballs in pepper spray. Do you feel me?”

  His eyes widened, and he held up his hands. “I would never feel you, miss. I’m just a driver. I would never!” The man broke out into rapid Spanish, which sounded to her like more denial, and she burst out laughing. He didn’t understand her slang, and it cracked her up. Well, at least she’d put fear in his heart, and for some reason, it loosened him enough to give her a ride. He loaded her cases in the trunk of the black car and opened the door for her to slide in. Deja sighed in relief. Two days behind Heath should not make a difference, and soon she would be with him.

  The trip to Logan City was a silent one. Deja half-listened to the driver, whose name she learned was Juan, speak into his cell phone to someone. The sing-song tone of his language lulled her, making her eyelids droop. She had no idea how long she slept when he called out, “Miss, we’re here.”

  Deja sat up and stretched. She peered out the window with a frown. Dust, dirt, and weeds everywhere, they seemed to come to a stop miles from civilization. “Is this it?”

  “Logan City,” Juan said. “This is where you wanted to come, right?”

  “Yes, but…” She recalled the pictures she’d seen online of the two sole buildings on the site, dilapidated shells of what they used to be in the eighteen hundreds. “How long has there been a fence here? Somehow, it seems out of place.” Juan didn’t answer, so she opened her door. “Wait here a minute, please. I’ll be right back.”

  She wandered a few feet off the road, confused. This place had no interest to anyone except history buffs and the curious, yet someone had erected a fence. The metal shone in the sunlight, giving the impression of newness. She had no idea what she’d expected. A clue maybe? Something that would lead her to another spot where Spiderweb’s lab truly lay. She walked farther onto the property, coming close to the fence, and traced it a few yards. No footprints marred the surface except hers. The place appeared abandoned. When she came to the end of one building, although it laid a good way from the fence, the barrier turned, and she followed it until she passed out of sight of the road. An engine starting struck fear in her chest. She pivoted and ran back to find Juan swinging a U-turn and then driving off down the road.

  “Wait,” she shouted, and ran after him. She waved her arms, but the car continued to recede in the distance. Deja’s teeth chattered, and she stopped jumping to rub her hands over her arms. Behind her, the road stretched for miles with no sign of anyone happening by. The dust Juan’s car kicked up settled, displaying the same situation in that direction. Her heart sank. Here she was rushing after Heath and thinking herself to be some kind of badass just because she threatened a man with pepper spray, and he’d abandoned her in the middle of nowhere with everything she owned in his trunk.

  At least she’d had the presence of mind not to leave her purse in the car. She dug out her cell phone and unlocked the screen. Willing herself to calm down, she punched in nine-one-one and waited. Nothing. She tried again, and still nothing. Wasn’t it required by the FCC to be able to make nine-one-one calls? What the hell? Examining the screen, she figured out what the problem was. No reception.

  “No, no, no. What am I going to do?” Maybe this was a joke or some kind of payback from Juan for threatening him. Maybe he would be back in a few minutes and laugh it off before she kneed him in the nuts. She paced back and forth along the side of the road and craned to see if a car approached in the distance. Nothing stirred.

  Overhead, the sun beat down on her neck, and a bird cawed. She prayed it wasn’t a vulture just waiting for her to die so it could eat her carcass.

  “Okay, Deja, you’re getting delusional. Everything’s going to be fine. Just calm down.”

  When the day wore on, she sat in the dirt, no longer caring about her clothes. She had run here and there, holding her arm up and trying to get a signal on her phone. The bars on the charge wore down with the repeated calls, which pissed her off. The stupid battery should last longer, but it seemed when a newer model came out, the old one started having issues. She had put off upgrading for awhile now.

  She had to think abo
ut this situation. If Heath had come out here, wouldn’t he have walked around the fence, checking it out at all angles? She stood up and faced the barrier. One thing was for sure, the driver wouldn’t have dared to leave him. After brushing the dirt from her ass, she stumbled up the slight hill to the fence and then turned to circle it. At last, tracks appeared in the dirt, ones from a vehicle, and a wide gate would allow access, but a fat padlock kept it from opening. She grumbled. Only one thing left to do—climb. At least if she ended up here overnight, she could find shelter in one of the buildings. The idea didn’t appeal, but she had no choice.

  She stuck her fingers in the rungs of the fence and raised a foot. The front of her sneakers didn’t quite fit through the holes, and she grumbled. Come on, Deja. You are not so girly that you can’t do this. Make every woman proud. Fight!

  She paused to duck her head in the strap of her purse and slung it onto her back. Then she began the climb. Twice she slipped all the way to the bottom after reaching the midway point. Frustration brought her close to tears, but she would not give up. Three more times she went at it and then snapped a fingernail straight to the bloodline. She cursed stupid Heath and the tiger inside him. Still, she climbed and then reached the top. With one leg on each side of the fence, she rested, panting and her muscles screaming in protest. She tried laying her head on her hands and wobbled. Oh hell no. She would not start over. With as much care as she could muster, she swung her foot over to the inside of the fence and began her descent. Her sneakers lost purchase, but she forced a toe with all her might into a hole and held on until her fingers burned. A creak behind her made her freeze, and she scanned the area. Nothing moved. Sweat beaded her forehead and upper lip, so she got moving again. On solid ground, her legs gave out, and she sank down, breathing hard.

  Okay, it was time to get moving. She forced herself up and started toward the closest building. Now that she was inside, the place seemed creepier, like eyes watched her from every crack and hole. The boarded windows afforded no peek inside, and the door was nothing more than a thin sheet of plywood. When she drew closer, she noticed it had been pried away from the nails holding it in place, and clear footprints imprinted the dirt. Deja smiled. “I found you, baby.”

  She tugged on the plywood, and it gave just enough for her to squeeze in past it. Dust stirred in the interior causing her to cough, and she waved it away. Pausing for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting, she wrinkled her nose against the musty scent hanging in the air. When she could see, she took in the small room, still furnished with old, rotting tables and chairs. A layer of dirt covered everything, and weeds grew up from one side of a couch. Nothing in this room gave her any clues about Heath or Spiderweb. In fact, she hesitated to explore further since the roof sagged in areas and she feared it would come crashing down on her head at any minute. If she died out here, no one would ever know it.

  Having come so far, she couldn’t turn back now. She took a step farther into the house, and dust coated her sneakers and the bottoms of her jeans. Traversing the table and a broken chair on its side, she made her way toward an open doorway. A peek into the next room revealed fewer holes, which meant less light. She hesitated, and something creaked behind her. Be a bird. Please be a bird or…a squirrel.

  A shadow shifted on the floor next to her. “Oh, hell.”

  Pain exploded in her head, and she crumpled to the floor.

  * * * *

  The pain in Deja’s head brought her to awareness. She tried raising a hand to it but found she couldn’t move. Even the energy to open her eyes didn’t materialize, and she waited for the cobwebs of sleep to fade.

  “Where did you find her, Arlo?” a woman asked. “Are you sure she has no family who will come looking for her?”

  “Don’t worry, doc,” a man answered with a distinct accent that reminded her of Juan, but somehow different. “I found her in an alley. She was selling herself.”

  Who were they talking about? Her? Selling herself in an alley? He must be crazy. Both of them were if they thought she would stand for this.

  “I don’t want some woman with a sexually transmitted disease, Arlo,” the doctor told him. “That will just complicate the process.”

  Deja forced her eyes open and glanced around. She lay strapped to a bed in a small, white room. Monitors and all kinds of equipment surrounded her, each one beeping or flashing lights and numbers. The woman faced a computer screen, dressed in a long, white lab coat and simple pumps. Without the shoes, Deja would have pegged her as a man because of the shape of her head and the short-cropped, dark hair.

  The doctor turned to face her and smiled while pushing glasses up her nose. “You’re awake, huh?”

  Deja prepared to give the woman a piece of her mind, but when she opened her mouth, the only thing she managed to get out was a few garbled words. She frowned.

  “Oh, don’t worry, my dear. We’ve given you something to keep you calm and cozy. Helps with the severe pain from the procedure—at least at first.”

  A stab of fear rolled over Deja. What did she mean by “at first”?

  “I’m Dr. Gail Holmes, and I’m going to give you a new life.”

  A wiry little man no more than five feet came to stand near the bed, somewhat behind the doctor. “Should you tell her your name, doc?”

  “Should you question me, Arlo?”

  “No, sir. I mean, ma’am.”

  Gail lifted Deja’s hands and examined them. She spun the ring Deja kept on her left ring finger with a speculative expression on her face. “Not an engagement ring. No husband or boyfriend? I’m guessing early thirties?”

  Deja didn’t respond. The ring wasn’t an engagement ring, but she’d gotten it for her birthday from Heath. The piece had special value because it came from him. She almost never removed it.

  Gail continued to speculate. “A runaway maybe, from an abusive partner? All men are dogs, aren’t they?” She brushed Deja’s hair from her face in a way that reminded her of when Heath did it. Deja jerked her head away, but the doc didn’t appear offended. She leaned in closer as if they were girlfriends sharing a secret. “What you need is a cat.”

  Deja’s eyes widened. No doubt in her mind now. This was Spiderweb. This room where they held her was the lab, and if she didn’t find a way to escape, they would kill her—or worse.

  “Arlo, I need blood work done on our little lady of the evening. This will be interesting. We haven’t had many black women go through the program. Maybe she will be the one. Do you think?”

  “You know the answer to that, doc,” Arlo said, and prepared several vials used in drawing blood.

  Deja fought as hard as she could when they took hold of her arm. She dug her nails in Arlo’s arm and tore into his skin when he tried to hold her down. He howled like a little bitch, and Deja glared at him, not sorry in the least. The doctor grumbled in anger.

  “Go and get that cleaned up, you imbecile. You’re contaminating the room.”

  Deja cried out when a thick needle pierced her arm. The next thing she knew, heaviness descended over her mind and she sank into oblivion.

  * * * *

  Days passed, Deja assumed. She slipped in and out of consciousness. One minute the assistant stood over her, and what felt like a heartbeat later, the doctor did. Their faces blurred together, along with their voices. Sometimes, she tried to speak with them, but they never appeared to understand. Not that she could make out their words either. Her mind remained fuddled, and when she tried to bring up thoughts of Heath, he was little more than a shadow, and concentrating to bring him into focus did nothing.

  At one point, they took her from the lab room and locked her in what appeared to be a bedroom, except there were no windows, and the wide, steel door leading out included an observation frame and a lock secured from the other side. Deja dared not say Heath’s name out loud just in case she put him in danger. She didn’t see them, but suspected her room was tapped along with hidden cameras. They kept her drugged so she cou
ldn’t fight when Arlo came to take her for more tests. She hated him.

  A mechanism clicked near the door, and she knew he came yet again. Her emotions ran high enough to cry, but whatever they did had dried her tear ducts. Her eyes ached, but relief never came.

  “Good morning, chica,” Arlo announced when he walked in.

  “Go to hell,” she intoned with care so he’d understand.

  The pink in his cheeks told her he did. “That’s no way to behave. We’re good to you. We make sure you eat. If you were out there on the street, you would have nothing.”

  “Except I wasn’t out on the street when you found me, you asshole. You’re a liar.”

  Arlo’s alarmed gaze shifted to a spot high on the wall, and then he hurried to her. “That’s enough out of you.” He jabbed a needle into her arm, and she cried out. When she looked in the direction he had on the wall, she saw nothing, but now she knew for sure they had cameras trained on her. Somehow, she had to escape in order to see Heath. She needed to be sure he never came here so they wouldn’t do to him what they were doing to her.

  Arlo all but dragged her from the room, and sometimes when she had trouble standing up, he called in another man who helped him. The big guy stood over six feet from her estimate, easily taller and bigger built than Heath. His size was his single advantage because someone beat him all upside his head with the ugly stick. Deja hated him too because he slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he dropped her on the examining table, uncaring whether she hurt herself in the process.

  Big-and-Ugly left the room after he strapped Deja down. “Let me go please,” she begged Arlo. “I won’t tell anyone about this place.”

  Arlo laughed in response. He punched a few buttons on the machines that monitored her and hooked electrodes to her skin. Deja whimpered and rocked. They smiled and told her good morning, but they didn’t care how much they hurt her.