by D A Rice
Even in the darkness, however, she could see them, her eyes burning like the hell around her. She began to build walls in her head, just as her psychiatrist had taught her. “Do I need to call Dr H?” She found Damion asking her softly before starting the car. His voice was so loud in her ears that she cringed, but she shook her head no. The walls were already starting to block out the worst of it. Being boxed in the darkness of his tinted car helped immensely.
“Just take me home, Damion.”
With her eyes closed, she saw him nod once, put his car into gear and drive away. The students who had been close enough to see her near collapse were left to stare curiously after them.
2
Strolling down the street, he couldn’t help but think about how much he loved New York City. It was a hubbub of activity. People were walking busily from one place to another. Newsstands and all manner of carts lined the streets as people tried to coax others to buy their wares with their bold New York accents. He smiled; he didn’t have the accent. He had grown up in the west, but he loved hearing the people speak here. The sun was beginning to set, and people were shuffling to try to get home so that they could move on to the next part of their lives.
His hood was down, showing off his dark brown hair, just long enough to stick out in different directions. It was his golden eyes most people noticed anyway, and one of many reasons why he almost always hid them deep within his hood. He moved across the street, following the flow of people. He kept both hands shoved deep in the old leather jacket’s pockets. The hoodie beneath the jacket was different from the one he wore when he hacked. It was a lighter green, providing a stark contrast to the black leather. New York was chilly this time of year, but not as cold as it would be later. He was still getting used to the climate differences from his last move. His body adapted quickly, but sometimes it was hard for him not to be continuously cold.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Eli,” said a voice to his right. Eli grinned before glancing at the dark-skinned man behind the newspaper stand sipping coffee. The old man did not move his dark eyes off the paper laid out before him. Eli paused, standing out of the way as people perused the old man’s magazines before stepping up to the cart from the side.
“Old man Higgins,” Eli nodded in greeting, “What’s on the news today?”
The other man finally looked up, a familiar twinkle in his muddy brown eyes, “Oh I think you probably know better than me.” Eli’s lips twitched. He shook his head, stepping up into the cart to look over Higgins’ broad shoulders. The old man flicked the paper with two fingers in mock irritation. “It’s always about that dang hacker kid. He’s always making the headlines. Always doing something. Tell me how he’s news, Elijah.”
Eli’s smile faltered as he read the headline, The Recluse strikes again! The amount of attention he was getting was almost too much, too fast. He would have to back off a little, especially if he still wanted to go out in public as himself. And he would have to go out if he wanted to know where he stood as the Recluse in the public eye. The public eye was his quickest route back to Arachnid. As long as the Recluse’s public image was that of a nuisance, then he was safe.
“What I want to know, old man, is why the NYPD keep calling him the Recluse?” The old man always knew what was going on; he was always reading the newspapers he sold. Eli could always count on Higgins to keep up with his alter ego. It was one of many reasons, he told himself, that he stopped by the cart.
“Supposedly, he has nothing to do with that Arachnid group, so that makes him reclusive. They talk about his inept hacking and ‘who will he target next?’ But the thing they don’t mention is the fact that he’s still at large.” There was a pause, “you ever had a brown recluse bite you, kid?” Higgins looked back at Eli, resting on an arm as he did. His white, close-cropped beard was twitching with his lips as he smirked.
Eli shook his head lightly, “can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” Part of him registered that not everyone believed what they read about his exploits, which meant that his timing was on point for what he would do next. That was good. He could suffer a little more fame than he wanted for this, as long as his true identity was safe.
“It hurts like hell, and it’s brutal and quick to start rotting your skin. Very hard to stop from spreading without an antidote, and it is a very harsh death if you let it fester.” The old man shivered as if he had personal experience with the pain. “Poetic, calling this guy the Recluse, as if he’s getting ready to spring from his hiding place and bite you. What I want to know is, if he is supposedly so sloppy, why is he front page news? Why haven’t they caught him yet? What does the kid really want?” Higgins turned back to his paper and Eli nodded thoughtfully.
He just wanted his life back, Eli thought but didn’t say as he took a step back off the newsstand and maneuvered around to the front again. He turned away, hiding the fall of the grin from his face. Higgins leaned over the stand to stop him, an arm out. “Ya know, kid, you could always take up that offer to help me run the stand,” Higgins said, nodding his white-haired head behind him as he spoke.
Eli smiled again taking another step back to make room for a woman and the magazines in her arms She waited to be helped with an impatient tap to her foot. “I will consider it, grandpa. You just take care of yourself, ok?”
Higgins shook his head before turning to the lady and smiling politely, apologizing for the minor delay. Eli turned and continued walking. It wasn’t the first time the old man had asked. The first time had been when Eli had first ventured out of his hideout as himself. He hadn’t gotten out much then and still didn’t if he could avoid it. He already exposed himself enough that he didn’t want to take unnecessary risks on top of that.
The old man had noticed him though. Looking very much the homeless young man he was pretending to be, Higgins had taken him out for lunch, feeling sorry for him. It was as if he could tell that Eli had been broken. One day, Eli thought, I’ll repay his kindness, but not until I know I won’t get him into trouble. Right now, Eli knew he could get him killed. If Arachnid ever found out he was alive and that he had what could be considered a friend, they would kill old man Higgins with no questions asked.
Ever since that first day Eli had shown up on his part of the street, Higgins had reached out to him. He’d never asked questions about who Eli was or why he was alone in New York. Every time Eli came around his stand, Higgins had greeted him like an old friend. They would always talk for a little while, sometimes in depth. The conversation would always end with Higgins offering to help Eli if he would allow it. Eli loved that about the old man.
He would disappear from old man Higgins’ life without a trace before letting Arachnid near him or anyone else Eli cared about. To Arachnid, Eli was dead, and he would keep it that way for as long as possible. He knew his time was running out and he had a choice to make.
The NYPD had assigned an elite to his case, and Arachnid was getting annoyed enough to divert more resources to finding him themselves. He had to make his next move, and it would be a game-changer. Arachnid was about to find out what his skill set really was.
...
Rei moaned as she turned, hen bolted upright. She was in her queen-sized bed on top of her grey and white comforter; her boots lay on the carpeted floor next to her. The twilight was flowing in through the cracks in her white gossamer curtains. Had she passed out? She glanced around the room to her not quite closed door. Was Damion still here? She could hear clanking in the kitchen, and she moved to stand, then swayed. Slower, she thought, steadying herself against the bedpost. I have to get up slower. “Rei, is that you?” came Damion’s voice, his soft footsteps moving down the hall of her apartment.
“Yeah, what happened?” She pulled the door open, meeting him there as he handed her a mug. Looking down, she smiled. Hot tea, perfect.
“Well, I managed to get you home, as you can see,” He gestured around the small hall, grinning. He stepped back and moved into the kitchen again. “And
I’m proud to admit you didn’t yell or scream or anything, but I had to carry you in. I’m glad your neighbors and doorman know about your ‘migraines’.” He made quotes in the air with his fingers as he leaned against the small island in her kitchen. Rei’s eyes widened as she took in the sizzling chicken cooking on the stove and the boiling pot next to it.
“You’re making dinner?” she asked as he glanced behind him and shrugged. “Damion, you didn’t have to do all that.”
He gave her a droll look that said he knew she didn’t even believe the crap coming out of her own mouth. “Oh no? And when were you planning on eating after your little episode, might I ask?” She glanced down sheepishly. She couldn’t deny the truth in his words, but she also didn’t feel very hungry, either. “That’s what I thought, now sit down,” he demanded with a point.
She pulled a high-backed black chair up to the island and obeyed. Rei set her mug down before placing her head in her hands, “Damion, I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, “you know I love you, Rei, or I wouldn’t stick around.” With his back to her, he pushed the chicken in the pan and then peeked into the pot beside it. “But I can’t help but notice how frequent they seem to be coming back.” He glanced at her accusingly over his shoulder.
She bit her lip. Rei was supposed to be taking medication to ease back the episodes, but when she did, it left her mind numb. She didn’t like that. So she had stopped taking the medication months ago. Something in her heart had told her it was the right thing to do, but maybe she needed the pills. She shook her head. No. She would rather deal with the outbreaks than a mind where it felt like whole days would go missing.
She could barely handle herself without the drugs on her bad days, but she couldn’t handle herself at all while on them. “I can talk to Dr. Heek tomorrow,” she said quietly as he set a plate of Parmesan chicken over angel hair pasta in front of her. Damion leaned his hands on the counter afterwards to study her, assessing what she didn’t say.
“You really don’t like him, do you?” His voice was quiet as well.
She sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her psychiatrist. She just hated being diagnosed. Something inside of her kept screaming that nothing was wrong with her. Then she would have a lapse like the one she had today, and she would think the doctor was good for her. The thought made her heart ache like she was living a lie. Maybe she was, she thought, but she couldn’t figure out which part of her life was the lie.
Was it the demons? Was it the burning in her eyes every time she saw them? Was it the dreams about a prowling wolf that she told to no one? Or was it the psychiatrist who tried to block her mind? The medications she took that succeeded? Part of her wondered what her heart was trying to tell her, and if it was as untrustworthy as her mind had become. Her doubts were overwhelming.
When dinner was over, and Rei had cleaned up, she turned to Damion and smiled, “I need some fresh air. Want to go for a walk?”
Damion cocked his eyebrow at her over the back of her small black couch. He had been lounging on it while she had worked behind him, “are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Definitely,” she replied before pulling her coat on and striding toward the door in a quick pace. Damion jumped up, shoving his arms through his coat as she opened the door and started walking without him.
“Hey now! Wait for me!” He slipped out the door as it closed, making sure she had locked it. Then raced down the hall after her as she approached the front of the building. Nodding to the doorman who smiled back with a small bow, she strode out the front door. She was lucky she lived on the first floor. It could have gotten awkward for Damion if he’d had to carry her up the elevator. She smirked with the thought as Damion finally came into step beside her. It helped that he was about six inches taller than her, making his strides long. She was easy to catch up to.
“I’m craving fresh air, and ice cream,” Rei announced, making Damion shake his head at her with a grin on his face. Once outside the building’s main door, they turned toward the café just down the street. It was one of Rei’s best-kept secrets of the city, and she was glad Damion was with her. She knew her dad paid a lot of money for her to be in the apartments she was in. He shelled out the money for the relative safety they offered in a city that tended to lean on the dangerous side.
“I’m totally getting pie,” Damion murmured beside her, his voice light. He bent down slightly to reach her ear, pulling her out of her thoughts, “and it’s definitely on you.”
Rei laughed as Damion started to open the door for her to Debbie’s Café, then cursed as he jumped back. Rei toppled, losing her balance as someone careened into her at the same moment they dodged her best friend. “Whoops,” came a soft male voice as a strong hand caught her by the waist. Another hand gently grabbed her arm to help balance with his quick reactions. Placing her back on her feet, the stranger spoke again, “my apologies, Miss.” She blinked in surprise at his gentle tone, “I wasn’t paying attention,” he continued.
She looked up and met golden eyes, veiled under a dark hood. They were the only thing that stood out about the stranger’s face hidden in the shadow of his hood. They reminded her of a hawk the way that they studied her curiously. “You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked quietly back with a small tug of her lips, teasing him about his accent.
He grinned as he let her go and took a step back. Rei couldn’t help but notice something cold come between them as he did. It was as if, without her knowing, he had briefly warmed her from the inside out. Damion shoved the man even further away, driving the coldness a little bit deeper.
“What is your problem, dude?” her best friend asked angrily.
The stranger blinked in surprise as if just now noticing Damion, even after having to dance around him moments before. His eyes turned amused in a flash. Bowing his head in acknowledgement, the man moved his hands to the pockets of his coat, a worn leather jacket over a hoodie. The stranger turned his full attention to Damion. “My apologies,” he said louder, “my focus was elsewhere.” The strange man glanced at her with those intense eyes, a sideways smile forming that seemed just for her. Then he turned and strode away.
“What a weirdo,” Damion scoffed, his eyes narrow.
Rei tilted her head, “I don’t know, sometimes being different isn’t such a bad thing.” Her voice was soft, but she knew Damion had heard her even though he didn’t say anything else about it.
Damion opened the door for her again, holding out his arm protectively as she moved inside. His eyes were burning holes into the stranger’s back, as the other man strode quickly, yet confidently, away from them.
Inside, the café was small and homey. It always smelled of home-cooked food and freshly baked goods. It was settled into the bottom level of a corner building; where the top was being used as apartments for the owners. There were a few computers near the windows with Wi-Fi access, and old tables were decoratively scattered across the floor. Along the walls were booths. Rei moved up to the counter and smiled at the woman there. “Hey, Debbie!”
Debbie smiled back. “Dinner or dessert?” she asked. Rei knew the restaurant owner knew what she preferred.
Rei smiled. “Dessert please, and pie for this one,” she nodded to Damion who smiled over her shoulder.
“How are you, Deb?” Damion greeted the patroness. They’d been coming here so often that people recognized them on sight. Debbie knew them both well. She smiled warmly at them and rang them up after clarifying with Damion which pie he was in the mood for tonight. As Rei dug through her purse for money, however, the sound of sirens drew closer. She cocked her head, eyes widening as she realized where they were going.
Sirens were a normal thing in a big city like NYC, but even she could tell that they were pulling up to the café in which they stood. She glanced back at Debbie in confusion as an unmarked squad car parked in front of the small restaurant, but Debbie looked equally perplexed. She wiped her hands on her apron and moved from be
hind the counter.
Damion gasped as an officer came in and spoke quietly to Debbie. A senior looking detective followed closely behind, eyes surveying each patron closely. “Rei… Do you know who that is?” When Rei shook her head, Damion whispered in her ear, “it’s Detective Jackson, who has taken a very personal interest in the Recluse case. And that has to be the rest of his team,” Damion added. The rest of the officers trailed in behind the senior detective as he took up the conversation with Debbie quietly. He held out a piece of paper to her, which she took with a nod.
Rei glanced at him sharply, “No way…” her gaze shifted to the street, golden eyes flashing into her mind. “You don’t think….” she asked softly and Damion followed her gaze as well as her thoughts.
They were regulars here, and she had never seen that young man in here before or anywhere around New York that she could remember. She knew she would remember those eyes if nothing else. They almost supernaturally glowed against the night. The meeting was just too coincidental. She wasn’t sure she believed in coincidence quite that much.
Had they just met the Recluse?
3
“I’m sorry to keep you two on your date, but I just have a few questions for you if you don’t mind,” Detective Jackson started before looking up from the notes he had already gathered. He met their gaze with his intelligent eyes. Debbie set a bowl of cookie dough ice cream in front of Rei and squeezed her shoulder gently before moving away.
They were sitting at a booth in the wall opposite from the computers. There weren’t many booths in the small café, but the one they were in now was far enough away that it was almost private. Rei handed Damion a spoon before taking a small bite of her ice cream. He was still waiting on his pie. The detective waited politely before continuing.
