HAVOC

by Debra Anastasia

  “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, and soon.” Henry held out her arms for a hug and ended the affection with a loud slap on my ass. “Keep it tight, Becs.”

  I used my towel as a weapon and twirled it into a rope and snapped it against the back pocket of her jeans. After she skip-hopped away, I knew I made decent contact.

  Henry was working behind the bar tonight. I was jealous, because back there I could put on a pair of Crocs that were a whole lot nicer to my feet than the heeled combat boots.

  “You got a text from your mom!” Henry held up my phone.

  “What’s it say?” I hollered over my shoulder as I went to unlock the front door.

  “Oh shit.”

  I switched on the neon sign to light up the word “OPEN” before turning to see what Henry was cursing about.

  “Your mom is setting you up again.”

  “Oh shit,” I echoed my friend. “When?”

  Henry grimaced. “He’s coming here tonight.”

  I shook my head. Henry shook her head. We’d been through this before.

  I crossed over to the bar and hopped onto a stool. Henry handed me my phone.

  I scrolled through the fifteen texts labeled Mother Monster. She’d found another guy for me, which was no surprise. Finding me a husband to take care of all my needs was her only focus in life.

  I knew it came from love. Somewhere, deep down, my mother was just trying to make sure I had a perfect life. It was her very own perception of a perfect life, of course.

  I exhaled and felt my shoulders drop my posture low.

  In my head I heard Mom telling me to sit up straight and stick out my boobs. Because men liked boobs. And boobs got you a great husband.

  I hunched my shoulders even more.

  Mom had met a guy at the place where she gets the oil changed in her BMW and sent him here to me tonight.

  Some mothers wouldn’t want their daughters in the getup I was currently rocking in public, ever. For my mom, she saw it as husband bait. The sexier, the better.

  Because snagging a husband was the most important thing in a girl’s life. It didn’t matter if he cheated on you. If he ignored you. If he had entire contact lists of Internet sex friends. As long as he was your husband, you were winning life.

  Henry put her hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you hate this.”

  I slid my phone over the bar. Henry would stash it with our purses. I had no pockets, and the boss frowned on phone use during working hours.

  “Oh, wait. There’s one more. It’s a picture. Damn.” Henry lifted an eyebrow and tapped the screen with her fingernail.

  The picture was clearly a screenshot of a social media profile. Alton Dragsmith was very handsome. He was cuddling a baby deer, so that was it for Henry. She was a sucker for any kind of cute, fuzzy baby.

  He had a strong jaw and sparkling blue eyes. He was wearing a bandana like a hiker that was hiking who loved to hike (clearly). The background clearly looked like he was on the top of a mountain.

  “Alton’s a hottie.” Henry shrugged like she was apologizing for noticing the obvious.

  I gave my phone back to her. “Looks can be deceiving. I mean, you’re boning the town serial killer on the regular.” I winked as she snorted.

  Dick Dongy had a reputation before Henry had claimed him as hers. He was misunderstood back then. I still liked to tease her from time to time. Dick taught us to look a little deeper before passing judgment on a person.

  “Yeah. But what if maybe this guy isn’t the worst?”

  I wrinkled my nose at her and twirled off the stool as the front door opened. My mother had an uncanny ability of finding the weirdest, craziest guys in town and arranging for me to meet them.

  I got menus for my first round of customers. They ordered drinks, and I marched the requests to Henry.

  She continued the conversation like it had never stopped.

  “So, maybe this guy is different.”

  I tapped my fingers on the shiny wood as I waited for the orders to put on my tray.

  “I just don’t want regular. You know? I want to feel love hard in my chest.” The ice rattled in the glass as I balanced the rum and Coke on the tray.

  “And your vagina.” Henry shook her boobs at me. I shook mine back without spilling a drop from the drinks.

  “That’s some next level waitress slutting you can do there.” Henry placed the last drink onto my tray for me.

  “I got skills you don’t even know about.” I walked the drinks to my table, and by then they had decided on the appetizers. I had just finished taking the order when the front door opened. Alton Dragsmith walked into Meme’s and scanned the bar. Then he found me. His smile was sparkling and he even had a dimple. He was wonderfully handsome, but I felt nothing. Not a single thing except dread. The cycle was about to repeat again. Mother Monster would push and pry. I would do my best but still disappoint her and fail to nab a husband with a happily ever after.

  3

  SURPRISE

  Fenix

  I was tied to a metal chair in a windowless room with five angry men. They’d been through all the emotions on the psychological wheel of fortune tonight.

  They were jubilant that they’d caught me, because I was uncatchable. Hell, I was a myth even. I worked on that mystery for years. I made so few appearances to people who actually lived through an incident with me that I could be a fantasy.

  “Look at this fucking face. Jesus. How many hours did you put into this shit, Mercy?” The man grabbed my jaw. I smirked at him to piss him off more.

  “What kind of freak does this to himself?”

  They were mystified, disgusted—and now they were mad.

  They were going to kill me as soon as their boss got done with me. At least, that was their thought. They’d searched me. I wasn’t armed.

  I snorted. The closest one slapped my face. I took the blow as an opportunity. I was used to pain, and could endure far more than these guys were capable of delivering.

  I bit my tongue and used my teeth to push forward on the small needle I had embedded there before I had been “captured”. After I had used my own tongue to smuggle it into this situation, all that was left was a tiny red dot resulting from the entry. Once the needle was free, I snipped the edge of it to break it open. As long as none of the poison loaded into it dripped on me, I would live.

  I blew the needle at my kidnapper’s face like a dart and it lodged just under his right eye. The needle was so thin; he didn’t even register what I had done for a moment. I used the time where the poison ripped through him to manipulate my double-jointed hands to get out of the restraints. The poisoned man reacted violently to the delivery of his death sentence. He was convulsing and foaming at the mouth by the time my hands were free.

  Surprise was such a lovely distraction. I had the rest of the room full of men on the floor before the poisoned man took his last choking breath. I didn’t look at their faces after they were dead. It was a habit. It was a memory prevention technique. Because I would remember the look on my mother’s face after my father murdered her. The frozen eyes. I shook my head and assessed my surroundings.

  I was able to open the door to the inquisition room they’d been holding me in. They never thought to lock it when it was just me versus a whole crowd. I did see cameras in the corners of the rooms. I’d deal with them later.

  Now I had to finish my job.

  There was a little girl in this house. One that had been kidnapped as leverage for a large debt.

  I had the layout of the house memorized from the research I had done on the house’s blueprints before I arrived. I didn’t turn on lights as I navigated. I didn’t want to leave an illuminated path for the others that were surely on their way to hunt me down.

  Four doors on the left, then a set of stairs, four more doors and the fifth—I kicked that door in.

  I heard whimpering while listening for the pounding feet that would signal that people were c
loser to finding me again. I wasn’t armed with anything but my desperate need to save someone. And tonight—that would be little Christina.

  I’d read her profile carefully before accepting the job. She was the granddaughter of a local mobster. Not her fault. And at seven, she didn’t have an interest in money—just My Little Ponies.

  I knew my face would scare her, so I zipped the hood portion of my sweatshirt only. It covered me. Then, I pushed aside the sweatshirt’s zipper and opened my button-down to reveal a My Little Pony shirt.

  I pointed to it. “Hey, Christina. Can I ask you to come with me? I want to take you back to your mom and dad. “

  She was a lump on the bed in the dark room. I found the switch and slapped it on. Christina had desperate brown eyes and sandy blonde hair. She was shaking. I pointed to my shirt.

  “This one’s my favorite. Twinkle Fairy Fart.” I knew talking to a guy in a hood with mesh fabric had to be out of her nightmares. I was using the funny joke her father would play with her to try to set her at ease. It would be a lot easier to get her out of here if she wasn’t kicking and screaming.

  As if it was a reflex, she responded, “That’s not Twinkle Fairy Fart. That’s Twilight Sparkle.”

  “I want to get you out of here. And I’m sorry you’ve been here. Can I get you to come with me?”

  I watched as all the lessons she learned from her parents flashed through her terrified eyes. Don’t go with strangers. Don’t talk to weirdoes. All that stuff.

  I tapped the image on my chest. “We don’t have a lot of time, princess. Can you come with me?”

  I took my glove off and held out my hand. I didn’t want any of the poison I may have inadvertently touched killing six men to rub off on her.

  She pointed at my inked hand. “Are you a skeleton?”

  I shook my head. “It’s just a tattoo. To scare bad guys. But you’re not a bad guy.”

  That seemed like a good answer. Christina scootched out of the bed. The room was barren. The window had been bricked up. I felt my resolve bubble again. For her. To save this girl.

  Christina took my hand and I led her from the room. The hallway was dark and her little fingers curled around my fingers harder.

  I knew she didn’t like the dark. I also knew if she lifted the back of her sleep shirt I’d see the scars from the five spinal surgeries she’d already endured in her short life.

  The fact that she was walking was good. It meant her captors didn’t injure her. Or if she was hurting, she was enduring the burning pain to escape with me.

  I heard a shout of alarm somewhere in the house.

  Our time just got a shitload shorter. I bent low.

  “I’m sorry. Can I carry you? We have to move really quickly.”

  The little girl reached her hand out and touched the side of my face, with only the fabric of my hood between us. “You’re a nice guy, right?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded.

  “You can carry me.” Christina put her little arms in the air.

  I picked her up as carefully as possible. Her grip was strong around my neck, which I took as a good sign for her spine.

  “Bury your head in here, and don’t open your eyes for me. Okay?” I was already plotting. The best way out that would disturb her the least was through the garage. I would have preferred to jump out the window. But not with her in my arms.

  I could feel her hot breath on my chest. She was getting as close to the cartoon pony on my shirt as she could. I unzipped my hood so I could have my full range of vision.

  I ducked when I felt the air move near my ear. The punch went over my head. I shot out my arm to jab the man in the throat. While he reached for his neck, I grabbed his gun from his hand, the pain loosening his grip.

  The pistol had a silencer on it. I used it to kill him. I felt Christina’s arms squeeze hard around my neck.

  I whispered near her ear, “It’s gonna be okay. Keep your eyes closed and pretend it’s a dream.”

  On my way to the garage, I killed two more men. I stepped over their bodies, all the while telling Christina calmly how close we were to getting out. I asked her to whisper the names of her other favorite ponies to me as well.

  I made it to the driveway and disappeared with her into the woods that surrounded the compound. We weren’t fully free of danger yet. The grounds lit up and black SUVs came to life. Men in all black with machine guns poured from the house.

  I started to sing the My Little Pony theme song softly into Christina’s ear. I wanted her to not cry. I had learned it on the way over to rescue her. But she was tough. A little fighter—or so her father said.

  Her parents had no connections that I could find to the mob the grandfather was in. They were most likely pawns in a fight that shouldn’t have involved them.

  But I would have come for Christina no matter what.

  I have a soft spot for kids.

  She started whisper-singing along with me. Her words against my chest. To the pony, I was guessing.

  She was melting me.

  I would kill every man on the compound to be able to hand this little girl to her mother tonight. To end this nightmare for her.

  The shirt I was wearing was white, and Christina’s blonde hair was like a flag in the moonlight. I wasn’t taking away the pony from her, so I had to move faster so we could get as much distance from the compound as possible.

  “How’s your back?” I asked when we were done with the theme song.

  “I’m okay.” She looked up then, seeing my uncovered face.

  I anticipated a scream.

  She put her fingertips on the teeth inked near my mouth. “Skeletons are superheroes too?”

  “Yeah.” I was the furthest thing from a hero, but if that was what she needed, then that was what I’d be.

  “Thank you.” Christina put her head on my chest again.

  I was listening for branches cracking while I picked my way through the night.

  When we got to my motorcycle, I didn’t take time for a helmet for either of us.

  “There!” The shouts of alarm followed us.

  We were out of time. I jumped on. “Hold on as tight as you can.”

  I was off, not even bothering to try to be stealthy. I needed speed now. And my bike was the fastest thing on the road most times. Every part save for the mirrors was matte black so it wouldn’t shine.

  I needed both hands to go as fast.

  Christina held on like a little monkey. This part was a concern for me. I couldn’t take her spine into account now. We were at 110 mph with no safety gear. But behind me were men ready to kill us both, so only fast worked.

  I needed to get to the grandfather’s territory. His men would set up a defense.

  I swerved off the main road and cut the headlight I’d modified for just this purpose. I motored through at a random pace in a residential area, then pulled into an open garage for a few minutes. I checked on Christina and she was shaken, but still breathing regularly. I waited a few more minutes, but saw no movement in the quiet streets.

  I set Christina on her feet and took off my hoodie. After letting her put it on so she wouldn’t be cold, she followed me as I broke into the house. I waited a minute to listen for an alarm. No sounds.

  When I got inside, I helped Christina tiptoe into the office. The computer was on, and I was able to get a message to her grandfather. I used the address on the bills on the desk as reference.

  We had a few seconds before we had to move, so I implemented a rudimentary hack on the security cameras after bouncing the ISP around. The poor people whose house I’d just broken into wouldn’t get involved in this war. I was wiped from the system.

  Christina and I were on the bike in the road when her grandfather’s convoy arrived.

  She insisted that I accompany her to her house, fearfully eyeballing her grandfather’s men --who looked a lot like the ones we just escaped, at least in a child’s eyes I guessed.

  The men ogled at my face, bu
t I wasn’t going to make Christina take off my hoodie. I agreed to drive her in one of the SUVs and one of the grandfather’s team agreed to follow on my bike. I let her sit up front in the passenger seat, because the SUV was dark in the night. She drifted off to sleep in the twenty minutes it took to get her to her front door.

  Her mother yanked at the door handle, waking the little girl as I searched for the unlock button.

  “My baby! My baby!”

  I looked down at my lap because the raw desperation in her voice brought back memories that I didn’t want to relive.

  There was a jacket behind the seat that Christina had just vacated.

  I slipped it on as her father reached the huddle. Happy tears and gasps of relief became the night’s most prominent noises. I pulled the hood of the jacket over my face before stepping out of the SUV.

  The mother stood and yelled forcefully at the grandfather’s men. “Leave. Get out of here. How dare you? How dare you?”

  She might have been irrational with sleep deprivation, but I didn’t blame her. Murderers were surrounding her baby.

  Including me.

  Christina pointed at me. “He’s good.”

  I felt my knees go weak for a moment. I looked at my feet. I was so far from good. She’d just reminded me of a different little girl from a long time ago.

  “Well, he can stay then. But the rest get out of here or I’m calling the cops.” She was furious.

  There was family drama here that I didn’t want to be a part of. I just hoped, however, it ended for Christina. It was the best fate.

  One man approached me and I looked out from the depths of the hood at him.

  “That’s my jacket.”

  I said nothing.

  “Okay. I guess it’s yours now.”

  I tilted my head.

  “It’s for sure yours. Nice work, Mercy. Jesus. You got this? You have to leave soon or the boss won’t pay. Says you’re scarier than anyone he’s ever met.”

  I was silent. The way I liked it. The less I said, the more they imagined. I got the job done. The impossible job done.

  The grandfather had promised me favors for the return of his granddaughter to his son and daughter-in-law. I turned them down. I wanted money. Only money. I didn’t want to be tied to any of these assholes.