by Alan Janney
Katie
Cory and I played chess on Minnie’s boat into the evening while I tried not to dwell on Chase. He had texted me when they reached Compton. I knew he’d be fine. Of course he would. Samy was with him. But still. Ugh.
Cory waved at me, getting my attention. “Still your turn,” he said.
I glanced at the board. “You can’t move a pawn backwards, Cory. Try again.”
He glowered and hunkered over the board. “Stupid white people game.”
“I’m not white.”
“You half white.”
We kept moving the board and chairs so he could stay in the shade. Cory’s appetite still had not returned; he’d lost fifteen pounds during our two weeks at sea. I luxuriated in the sun, wearing a bikini at which he tried not to stare. I didn’t mind. Boys didn’t used to stare.
He moved his queen (way too early-now she was exposed) and drank lemonade Minnie had provided. “You worried?”
“About Chase? I’m trying not to think about him.”
“Weird stuff, him being the Outlaw.”
“Yes,” I grinned. “Very weird stuff indeed. You had no idea?”
“You crazy. How would I know he’s the Outlaw?”
“You’re his closest friend.”
“So. You his shorty and you didn’t know.”
I nodded and moved my knight. “That’s true.”
“Think he’ll go to college? With you?”
“To Stanford? I wish. But no.” I gazed up at the blue awning and contemplated colleges and the future and sweet Chase. “Will I even go? Will Stanford still have doors to open this fall? I have no idea.”
“Wonder how much being the Outlaw pays,” Cory mused, tapping a bishop against his forehead in thought.
“I believe it’s a free public service he provides.”
Minnie slowly glided down the stairs, one hand skimming along the rail. She announced, “Time to pack your bags, dear ones. I see your next adventure approaching on our starboard beam.”
“Isaac’s here?” I wondered, turning to inspect the northern horizon. I lowered my sunglasses but saw nothing. “That was quick.”
“The craft is still several miles away,” Minnie explained, swirling a glass of rum punch. “I can see it from the top deck.”
“Hell yeah,” Cory said, trudging towards the stairs. “Bout ready to get back on some land.”
I followed him belowdeck. Due to the desperate dash from my apartment that awful morning, I didn’t possess much clothing, and most of it was ill-fitting Navy gear. Clean-up only required five minutes. I pulled on the long coverup Minnie had gifted, and laid down on the bed. Most likely our next destination wouldn’t be an exquisite luxury yacht. Might as well soak up the last few minutes in my private cabin, which was basically a suite.
I was thumbing through Instagram photos when I heard the boat motoring nearby, and then it attached to our stern. Sounded more like a raft with an outboard propellor than the Coast Guard.
“Goodbye room,” I sighed and collected my things.
The sun blinded me again, streaming from above and ricocheting off the ocean. Minnie spoke softly near the rail. I slid on Ray-Bans and dropped my bags onto the wooden deck.
I’d been correct. The new boat was just a life raft with an outboard motor. Far too small for long voyages, and definitely not the Coast Guard. Two men stood on the deck with me and Minnie. One of the men looked about my age. He wore Sperry loafers, stylish jeans, a white button-up shirt and a vest. A good-looking, baby-faced guy.
The other man, hispanic, appeared emaciated. His clothes were rags, like he fell over a lot. His hair needed a trim. His eyes were sunken and full of hate. At the sight of me, he flicked a switch on the small metal rod he held and it began humming. The rod connected by cord to his backpack. He was not Coast Guard. He was Chosen.
Minnie sipped her punch and watched me expectantly.
Cory and I had been betrayed.
My heart dropped into my stomach and my knees weakened. Chase!
“Katie,” Minnie said politely, “have you had the pleasure of meeting…” She held out her hand to the handsome boy. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name?”
The boy stared at the deck and stubbed it with the toe of his shoe. “That’s okay, ma’am. I’m not allowed to use it.”
“Not allowed to use it?”
“No ma’am.” He took a deep breath and glanced between her and me. “The Father says my name is Kid. Until I earn a different name.”
Pleasure registered in Minnie’s face and she erupted in laughter. “That sounds like the old goat I know!” she cackled. She wiped her eyes and murmured, “Have to earn a different name. So clever.”
“Minnie,” I said with a voice stronger than I hoped. “What…?”
“Kid is going to escort you into the city,” Minnie explained simply. A pleasant smile tugged at her tanned and freckled face. “To Martin.”
To the Chemist. I had been kidnapped.
The baby-faced kid looked miserable. The other man holding the electric rod looked hungry.
I asked the boy, “You are Infected?”
He nodded. “Yes ma’am. Chosen, as the Father calls it.”
“And you’re kidnapping us.”
“I have no choice.”
Minnie said, “You don’t appear up to this task, young man. You have a sour face and no constitution. Why did Martin not send Walter?”
“Walter was busy, ma’am.”
“Mmmm. Lucky for you, Katie. That Walter. He’s a rotten one.”
Minnie was stroking my hair. Shocked and outraged, I whirled on her. “How COULD you?!”
“You have such beautiful hair, you know.”
“You betrayed us!”
“Betrayed you? Pretty girl, have you listened to nothing I’ve said?”
I backed away from her. But I had no where to go. I stood on a boat alone with monsters who could truly kill me with their pinky. I restrained sobs and fury. There was zero chance of resistance.
“What do you mean?”
“Did I not tell you that Martin was my husband? My lover and confidante?” she asked innocently.
“Did you betray Chase too?” I spit the words. If I knew how to detonate her explosive boat, I would have pushed the button in that moment, so desperate I was to hurt her.
“I spoke with Martin. I told him the Outlaw would be in Compton and traveling without his costume. After all, Katie. Above all things, I enjoy mischief.”
She spoke so matter-of-factly. She was right; she’d seen too many births and burials to care about normal people. I knew from conversations with Chase that Minnie was powerful, even if she didn’t look it. The power came with age. She was in charge here. The boy’d be strong too, but might made right; the Chemist and Minnie were his bosses. The hispanic man holding the weapon was low on the totem pole, despite being infinitely more dangerous than Cory and me.
I could jump overboard but they’d fish me out. I couldn’t drown myself; they’d bring me back to the surface. Nowhere to hide. No way to fight them. And I wouldn’t beg. A tear rolled down my cheek.
“No no no,” she soothed. She cradled my face and wiped the tear with her thumb. A strong, suicidal urge to bite her lurched in my chest. “Don’t cry. You don’t know Martin like I do. He doesn’t enjoy causing pain. You will not be mistreated. Or perhaps I should say, you will suffer not brutality.”
I pointed in the direction of the electric metal rod with my eyes closed. “They brought brutal weapons with them, Minnie.”
The handsome boy spoke. “Only if you resist us. We’d rather not use them. Well. At least, I’d rather not.”
“And the Coast Guard?”
“I’ll be long gone, sweetie, by the time your friend arrives. This way is more exciting. Think of it like a storm.”
All was lost. I could get in the raft quietly. Or I could be hurt and then forced into the raft. We all knew it.
Suddenly, Cory surprised us
all. He leapt from the upper deck with a ROAR and landed on the evil-looking man. Cory’s three hundred pounds crushed and knocked him backwards.
“Cory NO!” I cried.
Electricity sizzled as the rod pressed between two bodies. The clump of arms and legs tipped over the rail and dropped limply into the ocean. It happened so quickly. A burst of light, brighter than the sun, flared and popped.
We rushed to the side. Both men were dead, fully electrocuted on contact with the water, floating face down like big fish.
“CORY!” I screamed.
“Oh my gosh,” the boy breathed. He seemed as shaken as me.
Minnie squealed with delight. I couldn’t…I didn’t…what could I do? My mind grappled with events too terrible to process.
The mayhem kept pouring on. New fresh chaos behind me, but I was too overwhelmed to notice the small explosion. When I look back in retrospect, I understand; I understand he’d been patiently waiting for the right time, for days, exhausted, and this moment, when we gaped and screamed, was the perfect time for Tank to strike. Kid and I turned drunkly, lost in surprise. Metal had ripped. Fiberglass shattered. A small amount of gasoline caught fire, burning instantly with a whoosh.
Tank. Tank Ware had an engine hefted in his hands and over his head, like Atlas. Between his feet, the deck gaped brokenly and belched oily smoke. My brain tried to make sense of this upheaval, putting surprises in proper sequence. He’d ripped an engine out of the deck??
Tank hurled the metal machine. It caught the boy, Kid, in his chest, shattering shoulder bones and barely missing me. Kid was propelled up and over the rail, and he splashed into the Pacific near dead bodies.
Tank turned his fury onto Minnie but she effortless Leapt onto the deck above, careful not to spill her punch.
“Look at you,” she screeched in surprise. “I am enchanted! You’re as strong as the Outlaw. Maybe stronger! Can the oceans support two such young fish??”
Tank advanced.
“Take her,” Minnie said, eyes frenetic. Her wide smile was deranged. I understood for the first time; she was truly insane. “Take the raft. Take the girl. And go. This is so perfect. He’ll be furious! Hah!”
“Where you going to run?” Tank asked her. “It’s a small boat.”
“We could fight each other,” she responded, and she squatted, bringing their faces closer together. Tank could reach up and grab her ears. She was either very brave or much stronger than she appeared. “We could smash each other and this boat. I think you’d lose but maybe not.”
“I wouldn’t lose,” he rumbled.
“You’re starving, you beautiful mass of muscle. I am not. You’re weak. I am not. And the kid in the ocean isn’t dead. He’s hurt, true, but probably angry. We can fight and you can lose. And the pretty girl would be injured.” She held up a finger and aimed it at the raft. “Or. You can go. With my blessing. What a disaster we can make!”
Tank didn’t answer immediately. I glanced at Cory. Wake up, Cory! Wake up! But he wouldn’t. I knew. I knew.
“Katie. Get in the boat.”
I didn’t trust Tank. But at this moment, he became salvation. My only hope. I climbed into the raft, my mind still spinning, and began untying the ropes.
“You better hope I don’t see you again,” he told her.
“On the contrary,” she replied, and the way she watched him…her gratification in this sudden, unexpected change of events looked almost sexual.
Tank lowered into the raft, nearly swamping it. I twisted the throttle and the small propellor screamed. With one big thrust, Tank pushed the raft’s nose clear and we began bouncing away.
“Go!” Minnie screamed from her smoking yacht, her ruined paradise. “Gooooooo! Go and die beautifully!”
Chapter Twenty
Thursday, February 8. 2019
“The Outlaw is throwing grenades around north Compton,” Samantha said, a smirk on her face. “Yeah that sounds like him.”
“When has the Outlaw ever thrown a grenade?”
“I was joking.”
Carl’s Crown Victoria barreled through stoplights, trying to reach the scene before police cars did. The police would stop the threat with pistols.
“Miss Pauline,” I addressed her over the bouncing seat-back. “This sounds like a madman. With explosives. Samantha and I need to handle this.”
“Tell you what,” she replied. “I’ll let you help this time.” Despite her bravery, her hands quaked. She half-smiled at Carl and said, “Times like this? I miss cigarettes.”
He didn’t answer. Just shook his head, attention locked on the road.
She asked, “Have any on you?”
“Now Miss Pauline…”
“You right, you right.” She waved him off and looked out the window. “You right. Don’t answer. Don’t want to know.”
“We here,” he said, getting on the brake.
Carl slowly motored up Avalon and we peered down dark side streets, looking for the Outlaw. So weird. This neighborhood appeared to be a pocket of stark poverty. Next level indigence. Many of the houses had been abandoned. Rusted cars on the lawns. Nobody in sight.
A detonation. One street over. The clear and recognizable bang of a grenade. Carl executed an illegal u-turn and headed towards Central.
The imposter stood in the middle of the street beneath a yellow streetlight. Had to admit, that guy looked like the Outlaw. He was big, dressed in a black vest, and wore the right gear. Ski mask and red bandana. He’d slung a satchel across his back, presumably carrying explosives.
All four of us got out of the Crown Victoria at a safe distance.
“Miss Pauline, I think you should remain here,” I said.
Samantha retrieved the pistol from under her arm and thumbed back the hammer. “I concur. I promise not to shoot unless forced.”
I reached over my head and pulled the Boom Stick free. “We have experience.”
“You have experience with grenades,” she repeated.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well I have experience with Jesus.”
Samantha was about to growl a rebuttal when the imposter Outlaw cried out.
“Chaaaaaaaaaase! Come out, come out where ever you are! Chaaaaaaaaase!”
His voice sounded eery, haunted, and painful. The lonely wailing of a lonely man in a lonely place.
Miss Pauline wondered, “Who is Chase?”
I said, “That’s the Outlaw’s first name.”
“He knows the Outlaw’s first name.”
“Everyone knows the Outlaw’s first name,” Samantha sighed.
“So he ain’t the Outlaw.”
“No,” I agreed. “He’s probably here to kill him. And claim the reward.”
“Then why he dress like that?”
I said, “Samantha, stay on the sidewalk. Keep that gun out of sight. Don’t want to spook this guy. Miss Pauline and I will get his attention. See if we can’t talk him out of the grenades.”
Miss Pauline grabbed hold of Samantha’s wrist. “Don’t you fire that gun, baby.”
Samantha appeared caught between rolling her eyes, shouting at Miss Pauline, and rubbing Miss Pauline’s hand against her face for comfort. Fearlessly, or at least without hesitation, Miss Pauline waddled stiffly away from the car and into the street. I stayed beside her. So did Carl. Samantha vanished into shadow.
“Chaaaaaaaaase!” The guy shouted into the atmosphere, seventy-five yards away. “You’re a nobody! Show your face!”
“Why’d he assume the Outlaw would be here, I wonder. Oh Lordy. Pray with me, boy.”
I nearly tripped. “Pray with you?”
“Pray with me.”
I closed my eyes a moment, heart hammering. “Dear God. Please keep Miss Pauline alive.”
“Amen?”
“And Carl too.”
“Amen?”
“And the rest of us.”
“Amen?”
“Amen.”
“What about the Outlaw fell
ow?”
“What about him?”
She smiled kindly and patted my arm. Then she prayed with her eyes open, “Lord Jesus, we resist the wicked in your name. We cast out the devil from this here street. Grant us safety, Lord Jesus. And that man, that hurting broken man, Lord Jesus, grant his safety too. Amen.”
Carl started to pray.
I was out of my league.
When Carl finished, Miss Pauline said, “He’s white.”
The imposter was indeed white. I’d been assuming he was. They’d been assuming the opposite. What would Katie assume? Or Lee?
“All these white people,” Carl scoffed. “With their weapons.”
The imposter caught sight of us. “Stay back! I’ll kill you!”
“We still coming,” Miss Pauline, too quietly for him to hear.
“I’m here for someone! And I’m waiting. For his blood.” He raised a grenade in his fist.
Miss Pauline called, “My name is Miss Pauline. I’m sixty-five. And I’m here to talk.”
“No talking,” the imposter growled. He yanked the pin and tossed the explosive under a nearby Nissan Sentra. I counted. Two. Three. Four. Five. Si- BOOM. The pavement shattered. The Nissan’s undercarriage broke and the gasoline eruption cracked the car in half.
The man yanked out another grenade immediately. “The Outlaw is in Compton! Bring him to me!”
“We ain’t bringing you nobody, baby,” Miss Pauline called. “We gon’ talk. And we gon’ get you help.”
“No talking, old lady.” He pulled the pin.
We froze. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “He’s still holding the safety spoon. Don’t panic.”
“Oh Lord Jesus,” Miss Pauline said, tremulous voice traveling up and down octaves. “Help us, Lord, help us.”
“I am the Outlaw!” he shouted. “Have been all along! It was always my gig! Always my show! That no-talent hack…he just wishes…” his voice trailed away, dissipating within grief. “Can’t even remember it all…”
Samantha got in position. Saw her from my peripheral. She could end this charade anytime.
Miss Pauline took a shaky breath and started forward again.
“Nope,” the man sobbed and he threw the grenade at us.
