[In Distress 02.0] In Pain

by Caethes Faron

  “You see, I believe you’re the type of man who likes ugly things. You like doing ugly things, you like seeing ugly things, you like making ugly things. So I thought it was time that you were made into one of those ugly things you love so much.” Malcolm advanced, and the Alpha screamed behind the gag.

  “Oh, would you like the chance to beg? I thought you would have too much pride for that.” The screaming behind the gag only intensified. The sound gave Malcolm a satisfaction that he knew would only grow as the day continued. “Very well, I’ll let you get it out of your system. As I said, there’s no chance anyone will hear you. No one is coming to rescue you. No one even knows you’re missing. By the time they do, my work will be done. It will be too late. The sooner you come to accept that, the better off I think you’ll be. But have it your way.”

  Malcolm removed the gag, and immediately the man screamed. Malcolm watched, his posture conveying complete boredom. He would not be moved by this man’s pleas, just as Vincent had not been moved by Will’s. Best to let him know that from the beginning. He wouldn’t give him any hope that he would be merciful. Perhaps, if he had been a different man, he would have enjoyed leading him on, giving him hope only to extinguish it. That’s not what today was about. Today was revenge. Today was about making Vincent feel with absolute certainty that there was nothing he could do to escape the pain that was about to be inflicted upon him—exactly the way Will and all the other Zeds who were faced with cruel Alphas felt.

  When the Alpha realized that his screaming was having no effect, he quieted down until his screams were just whimpers.

  “Do you have it out of your system now?”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I already told you. You are a horrible person, Mr. Palaney. Horrible people deserve to be punished for the things they have done.”

  “But what have I ever done to you?”

  “Oh, you’ve injured me in a great many ways, Mr. Palaney. But don’t worry—while I can’t give you specifics, by the time I’m done, you’ll know exactly how much you’ve hurt me. I’m afraid that will have to be enough for you.”

  “Please, I’ll do anything. I’m wealthy. I can pay you.”

  It appeared Vincent thought his assailant was a Beta. Good. He wouldn’t think he had ever injured an Alpha, and he knew an Alpha wouldn’t so easily be bought off. At least not with any amount of money that he could currently afford. Best not to let him start to suspect that Malcolm was an Alpha. “Your money can’t heal my wounds, Mr. Palaney. I suggest you not offend me by making that offer again.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “Ah, what I want is to see you in pain, to see you begging for the mercy you’ve never given. Thank you for giving me a part of my pleasure so quickly.” Malcolm held the knife up and pressed the blade against Vincent’s cheek. The man immediately started screaming again. As much as Malcolm enjoyed hearing him beg for mercy, the screams did nothing but distract and make his job harder. When Vincent opened his mouth to scream, the movement of his jaw caused the sharp blade to draw blood. “Now, now, Mr. Palaney, look what you’ve made me do. I’m afraid I can’t have you interfering in this way. Time for the gag to go back in.” Malcolm reinserted the gag. Once it was secure, he made sure he had eye contact with Vincent. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to beg again a little later on. But now that you’ve already caused me to cut this pretty face of yours—this genetically perfect face—I might as well continue what you started.”

  Malcolm swiped the knife down each of Vincent’s cheeks, drawing a thin line of blood. He traced all the lines that made Vincent’s face perfect. He carved lines around the rope securing the perfectly smooth forehead. He outlined that perfectly shaped nose, cutting down the straight line of it. He traced those perfectly high cheekbones and even carved out a nice little dimple on his chin. Once he completed the picture, he grabbed the mirror he had brought and held it up to Vincent’s face.

  “There, that’s better. What do you think?”

  Anger mixed with fear swirled in Vincent’s eyes. Muffled sounds and screams came from behind the gag, but Malcolm couldn’t make out what he said.

  “You’re right. There’s still something missing.” With that, Malcolm punched him, and the perfectly straight nose gave way beneath his knuckles. “There. That’s better.” Whimpers filled the air now, and Malcolm showed Vincent his reflection once again. Between the blood and broken nose, Vincent’s face appeared completely disfigured. The screaming began in earnest, as anger melted into fear and sadness.

  “You don’t think that’s all, do you? After all, we both know that you can just pop yourself into a Med Machine and get all fixed. Hardly seems fair, does it, for my hard work to be erased so quickly? I guess I just have to make sure it’s a while before anyone finds you. This forest is vast. How long do you think it will take to search? How long before they even start searching?” Malcolm watched as despair settled onto Vincent. “Do you have something to say?”

  Vincent nodded as much as he could against his bindings. Malcolm removed the gag. Vincent stretched his jaw and moistened his lips before speaking. “Please, just let me go.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please let me go. You’re right, a Med Machine will fix me up. I won’t tell anyone about you.”

  “Oh, I know. It was easy enough to get you this time. I’ve covered my tracks well. If you even think of pursuing me, I promise you they won’t be superficial cuts next time.” Even if Vincent did pursue him, he’d made sure there was nothing to find.

  “You’re right. There’s no need for anyone to know about this. Please, just let me go.”

  “But was the lesson learned?”

  “What lesson?”

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I guess that’s a no.” Malcolm moved to return the gag, but Vincent spoke quickly before he got it in.

  “Just tell me what it is. I swear I’ll do anything.”

  “You’re a cruel man, Mr. Palaney. You’re mean to those around you, to those in your employ. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s a bully. You and your Alpha friends think you can just push around anyone in a lower caste than you. Tell me, Mr. Palaney, how is being an Alpha serving you today?”

  Malcolm yearned to tell Vincent how disgusted he was by all the atrocities Will had told him about. He wanted nothing more than to visit each of those injuries he had inflicted upon Will back onto him. Will didn’t speak about it much, but sometimes, late at night, he’d unburden himself on Malcolm, telling him of the horrible things he’d been forced to endure. Then there were the nights when Will thrashed in bed until the nightmares woke him. Malcolm had held him and heard what he knew were only a fraction of the wrongs done against Will. He wanted to make it clear to Vincent who exactly he was avenging. He wanted him to feel each of the same injuries, but that could never happen, not unless Malcolm made the decision to kill him afterward. As far as he had already sunk, Malcolm wasn’t a killer. Ralph Masterson had been different. That had been an eye for an eye, justice served where he knew none would be otherwise. For now, he had to content himself with what he could do without endangering his identity and his family.

  “I can change. I promise.”

  In truth, Malcolm hadn’t expected him to break quite so easily or quickly. “I don’t know that you can change. I certainly don’t believe our meeting today is enough to inspire the level of change I require. So let’s put this back in and proceed with the lesson, shall we?” Malcolm replaced the gag in Vincent’s mouth.

  Vincent’s legs were off-limits. Malcolm couldn’t risk a link being discovered between what Vincent had done to Will and what happened today. But there were other things he could do. A swift punch to Vincent’s ribs with enough force to crack them. Another punch to the other side. This man had thrown away Malcolm’s lover as if he were trash, all because of a broken leg. Will had sat in a cage waiting to die. Malc
olm wanted Vincent to feel the same fear.

  The change in Vincent’s breathing rhythm told Malcolm he had hit his mark. With each breath, Vincent would endure a fraction of the pain Will had. “It’s getting hard to breathe, isn’t it?” Malcolm placed his forearm across Vincent’s neck and slowly pushed. “I could end it now. But I think that would be a mercy. I’d much rather have you tied to this tree, waiting for death.”

  Pure terror entered Vincent’s eyes. The high Malcolm felt at his supreme power in this moment overwhelmed him. It had an intoxicating allure about it, but Malcolm wouldn’t let himself succumb to it. He couldn’t, because after this he had a man to go home to, and he couldn’t return to his bed if he did more than justice demanded. That’s all this was: justice. Nothing more and nothing less. Where the government and laws of New Cali failed them, Malcolm would make it right.

  “No, I’m not going to kill you. Not yet. I’ll let time do my work for me. You should appreciate that, Mr. Palaney. You know all about sitting back and not working, letting others and your money and time do all the work for you. So I’m just going to leave you here.” Malcolm packed up his bag but left the mirror hanging around Vincent’s neck. “I’ll leave this here in case you want another look. Oh, and just so we’re clear, you’ve lost your tab. So don’t think you have any hope of rescue.” Malcolm went around to the other side of the tree, lifted a giant rock, and brought it crashing down on Vincent’s right hand and then the left, hearing the bones cracking beneath the force. Muffled screams filled the air.

  “I wouldn’t want you figuring out how to untie yourself, would I? I doubt you would’ve been able to, but given enough time you might have managed it, especially considering the alternative. Now I bid you farewell. I’m not quite sure how long it’ll take you to die, but I’m confident whoever finds you will find a corpse.”

  Sheer desperation entered Vincent’s eyes, and Malcolm was sure he could get anything he wanted from the man, but the only thing he wanted was Vincent’s suffering, his atonement for what he had done. Malcolm took his bag with him and walked until Vincent couldn’t see him anymore. Then he lay down on the ground and waited for Vincent to come to terms with the fact that he was going to die today. Already, Malcolm grew weary of this game. He wanted to be home with Will. But this was all he could do. He couldn’t fix Will’s leg, but he could make sure Vincent paid for it, even if he didn’t know that was what he atoned for.

  The muffled sobs eventually quieted. Too late, Malcolm realized that if Vincent’s nose filled with snot, he could suffocate. Oh well. If that happened, it was an accident, one that Malcolm couldn’t bring himself to shed a tear over. Still, he wanted to get home, and he didn’t want to be a murderer when he got there. So he went back to find Vincent still awake, a look of grim despair on his face. The resignation had been complete, because as soon as he saw Malcolm, his face brightened. The only reason to have that response to seeing his tormentor return was the hope that Malcolm’s presence might mean a reprieve from the fate he had come to terms with.

  “You should have trusted me more, Mr. Palaney. You’re not a very good listener. If you had been, you would’ve realized that I’m only here to make sure you pay for your actions. Now, unless there are things about you I don’t know—which is highly unlikely—you’re not a murderer. Therefore, you will not die here tonight.”

  Malcolm took his knife and cut through the ropes that held Vincent bound to the tree. “You’re free to go. You may want to stay here. I can’t imagine moving will be very pleasant in the state you’re in. I’m sure a search party will come looking for you eventually. Otherwise, head southwest for long enough and you’ll eventually get back to where you came from. I’d advise you not to follow me; otherwise I’d have very little incentive to not make your death incredibly slow and painful. Let us hope that we do not meet each other again. Make no mistake, if I hear more complaints about you, I won’t hesitate to re-teach the lesson. The next time you so much as feel the urge to raise your voice or hand to someone, anyone, think of this, and ask yourself if it’s worth it.”

  Malcolm gathered the rope and took the mirror from around Vincent’s neck, packed them into his bag, and went back to the car. Before he pulled out onto the road, he shed his gloves and mask and put the contact away.

  As he drove home, he felt neither ineffectual nor impotent. For the first time since Kaleana’s death, he felt he’d done something useful. It hadn’t been pleasant, but it had been necessary. If he couldn’t remove the collars from his Zeds, he’d make their previous Alphas feel the pain of wearing one.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Will didn’t know where Malcolm had been, and it worried him. When he finally came home, Malcolm had dismissed Will’s concern and insisted he take a bath. Will tried not to let Malcolm’s clear lack of interest in talking hurt him. He knew his lover didn’t intend any harm. With everything going on in their lives at the moment, Malcolm was entitled to some time alone. Will only hoped that he wasn’t wallowing. After Malcolm’s bath, Will would make sure he was doing all right.

  However, he couldn’t help wondering what had set off this particular mood. He seemed different than normal, even the new normal without Kaleana. If there was something else wrong, it would benefit Will to find out what and nip it in the bud. He didn’t want a repeat of the scene that followed the Geneticists refusing Malcolm’s request for Kaleana’s body.

  Across the hall in their shared office, Will glanced at Malcolm’s vacant desk. He took a step toward it then changed direction and seated himself at his own desk. He didn’t feel right snooping on Malcolm’s computer, no matter how good his intentions.

  But he didn’t have a problem accessing Malcolm’s messages from his own computer.

  After entering his passcode onto the surface of his desk, Will’s screen unfolded and he logged in to Malcolm’s inboxes. For some reason a sense of urgency drove his actions, as if he worried that Malcolm might walk through the office door at any moment and catch him.

  This search was ridiculous. Malcolm’s behavior was just him struggling to cope with his grief. What Will hoped to find was something to point to Malcolm’s mood being caused by external events and not the result of Will’s inability to help him. The work account didn’t show anything out of the ordinary. He would have used that account for any official business with the Geneticists. That only left his personal account.

  Will pulled up the personal inbox. As suspected, the messages here were from members of the family. For a second, he considered opening them. He tried to justify the invasion of privacy by telling himself it was for Malcolm’s benefit, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t spy on his family that way. If the answer lay in those messages, then he would just have to find a way to get Malcolm to talk to him about it. That was the only answer.

  Before he exited out of the account, he took another look. Something wasn’t right. There were emails in this account that were routed from a message-anonymization service they sometimes used for their Spark of Life work. That’s why he hadn’t noticed them in the beginning, because they weren’t out of the ordinary. But it was highly irregular to find such messages in Malcolm’s personal account.

  When he went to open one of them, an alert flashed. Oculus had sent him a message.

  Oculus: Where’s Lazarus? He hasn’t been online since his Zed died.

  Will didn’t want to respond, but the green light next to his name in their secure chat client showed that he was online. There was no comfortable way to answer Oculus’s question.

  Ajax: He’s not available right now, but he’s doing a lot better. He’s been working.

  Oculus: On movement business?

  Will paused. He couldn’t lie to Oculus. The movement was bigger than all of them. As second-in-command, Oculus needed to know the truth of the situation with Malcolm, even if it felt a bit like betrayal for Will to tell him. Besides, Will counted Oculus as a friend.

  Ajax: No.

  Oculus: What then?
r />   Ajax: I don’t know.

  Admitting it to someone else made it more real to Will. Any time his thoughts had drifted to his absent partner, he’d ignored it, pushed away the unease. Faced so bluntly with the truth that he didn’t know what his lover had occupied himself with, tendrils of dread enveloped him.

  Oculus: Ajax, I’ve held off as long as I can, but this can’t continue. We need him to be focused on the movement. He’s our leader. If he’s no longer up to the task, then I need to replace him. We can’t squander this opportunity.

  The dread choked Will’s throat. A part of him had known this day would come. He couldn’t cover for Malcolm forever. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t replace a man who had devoted his life to the cause.

  Ajax: He really is doing much better. Give me some more time with him. We need him, Oculus. You know that.

  Oculus: This isn’t a decision I’ve come to lightly. I’ve admired Lazarus for years, but I have to put the needs of the movement first.

  Ajax: A little more time won’t hurt anything. You know the movement is better with him leading.

  Will watched as the clock display on his screen ticked by one minute and then another. If Malcolm were replaced, even by someone as capable as Oculus, the movement would be slowed by years. No one was better positioned than Malcolm to effect change.

  Oculus: Fine. I’ll give you some more time. But if he’s not ready by the time the collars move to a pilot program, I’ll have no choice but to replace him.

  Oculus’s name grayed as a red dot replaced the green one, and Will slumped back in his chair. The sake of the movement would justify looking through Malcolm’s messages or going through his computer, but Will didn’t have the patience for that any longer. He had to find out what Malcolm had been up to. If he couldn’t get him focused again, they would lose the greatest chance of success they were likely to ever see.