BLOODBURG
Page 6
Neither of the first two gunmen had even the slightest puff of steam, but when Joseph removed Julio’s hat, thick wafts of steam drifted up from the top of his head. Julio pointed his gun at Christoff.
Before Julio could line up his shot, Joseph shouted, “Illicea panto!”
Julio howled in pain as he felt the sharp tip of a solid dagger of ice cut into the top of his shoulders just below his neck. As Christoff ripped the gun out of Julio’s hands, he was overcome with panic when he realized he could no longer move from the neck down.
“Now then,” Joseph said sternly. “Each time you lie, I’ll shove this deeper into your back. It’s up to you, of course, but if you lie more than once, you’ll probably be paralyzed for the rest of your life. Understand?”
“Yes,” Julio grimaced, his eyes wide with pain and panic as Christoff stared at him without mercy.
“You know, it breaks my heart to feel this kind of betrayal from one of my own.” Christoff grabbed Julio by the chin. “Why would you do this to me, huh? What’s Palencio offering you to turn on me?”
Julio said nothing. He just stared at Christoff angrily.
Joseph slowly pushed the shard deeper into Julio’s back. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you silence is just as bad as lying. You’re probably beginning to lose feeling in your toes, hands, and feet. Am I right?”
“Don’t be rude, Julio.” Christoff glared at him. “Answer the man.”
“Yes,” Julio moaned in agony.
“Good,” Joseph chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I wouldn’t want you to think I wasn’t making good on my promise that you’re only one moment away from being paralyzed. So, why don’t you just save us some time and tell my old friend here what he needs to know?”
“All right, all right!” Julio screamed. “Yes, I’m working for Palencio. He’s offering up control of the territory he took from Borelli, and whoever causes the most damage to your organization gets the job.”
“So, killing me will make you one of Palencio’s top lieutenants,” Christoff scoffed. “Is that it?”
“No…the damage has to be financial.” Julio grimaced in pain as the freezing icicle burned into his back. “Look…I wasn’t going to kill you, I swear. The plan was just to keep you occupied until later this afternoon.” Suddenly, Julio dropped to his knees, no longer able to stand.
“Why?” Christoff growled. “What’s happening this afternoon?”
“Take that thing out of my back…and I swear I’ll tell you everything…please!” Julio begged.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right now,” Christoff barked.
“Warehouse…forty-eight,” Julio squeaked out through the pain.
“Son of a bitch! You told him about the warehouse?” Christoff snapped, punching Julio in the face, jamming the icy dagger deeper into his back.
Julio howled in torment and panic as he collapsed onto the floor, flat on his back. “I can’t feel anything below my neck!”
“Look, I’ll tell you what,” Joseph said calmly, leaning over Julio. “You give him the details about what I can only assume is going to be a raid on that warehouse, and I’ll fix you right up, okay?”
“Okay!” Julio screamed, his eyes darting frantically. “The raid is set for five o’clock this afternoon. I’ve already paid off the cops working that area to stay away from docks until after nine. By then, we’ll have gutted the warehouse clean.”
Christoff smiled. “I’ve got at least a dozen men guarding that place. There’s no way anyone’s getting past them.”
“Three of them have already turned on you,” Julio explained. “During the shootout, they’re going to hang back and take care of the rest.”
Christoff glared furiously at Julio. “Which three? I want names!”
“Fix my neck first…and I swear I’ll give you the names the moment I’m out of the city,” Julio bargained. “Deal?”
Christoff looked at Joseph, sighing heavily. “Fix ‘im.”
Joseph let out a loud chuckle. “Sorry, but I honestly don’t have the faintest idea how to fix his neck. I’m so much better at taking things apart than putting them back together. I do know a great surgeon on Fifteenth that works wonders.”
Julio knew he had no choice now. “Fine, okay! Fischer, McCoy, and Bourgeois are the guys! We good now?”
“He telling the truth?” Christoff asked.
Joseph nodded.
“I think it’s time to send a message to the rest of my crew. What do you think, Joseph?”
“Sure.” Joseph smiled slyly, staring down at Julio. “I think I have just the thing in mind.”
“Wait! Christoff…please!” Julio wailed out in a panic. “We had a deal!”
“I lied,” Christoff replied calmly before turning to his other two henchmen. “Now, can I trust you boys to send a message for me? I want everyone to know what happens to scumbags like this!” he screamed.
The two loyal henchmen quickly nodded in agreement as Julio continued to plead for his life.
Meanwhile, Joseph picked up a small, handcrafted toolbox from one of the shelves and placed it under Julio’s head, propping it up so the traitor had a good view of his paralyzed body. Joseph knelt by Julio’s feet, grabbed both of Julio’s ankles, and then looked up at Christoff.
“Do it,” Christoff said coldly.
“Decruptona tialisto,” Joseph chanted, sending a necrotic wave of energy into Julio’s body. Slowly, starting at his feet, Julio’s shoes and clothing, flesh, blood, and bone withered and rotted into a pile of dust on the floor.
The two gunmen watched in horror as the decay crept up Julio’s legs to his hips.
Julio cried out in terror, his face writhing in agony and disbelief—almost bordering on insanity. He was forced to watch as the spell worked its way up his body to his face, which quickly melted away. His empty eye sockets stared with horror, and then the skull crumbled to dust.
“Do I make my point, gentlemen?” Christoff asked, glaring angrily at the two henchmen.
All they could do was nod.
“Good.” Christoff smiled and turned toward Joseph. “I’ll make sure no one knows about Julio until after I hear back from you. I don’t want anyone else tipping off Palencio’s men. Once you take care of those three rats and have forty-eight secured and locked down tight, I’ll send a crew to help clean up and relocate the warehouse operation.”
“I can’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon,” Joseph said sarcastically, replacing his fedora and adjusting his purple-tinted glasses.
“All right,” Christoff barked. “Let’s go!”
The henchmen walked with haste to the front door, leaving Christoff and Joseph alone.
“Thanks for your help.” Christoff held out his hand, and Joseph took it. “War is coming to Bloodburg, my friend,” Christoff said as he let go of Joseph’s hand and made his way toward the front door.
“For the both of us, I’m afraid,” Joseph said solemnly, then locked the door behind Christoff.
After the sound of Christoff’s car had faded, Joseph turned off the lights, plunging the store into darkness. He stood there, silently. Things were out of control. After a long, tired sigh, Joseph turned to the stairwell to the basement.
-6-
Allie was groggy as the early morning sunlight gradually filled her apartment. When she fully opened her eyes, the nausea was back, along with a blinding pain pounding inside her head. She ran to the bathroom, lifted the toilet seat and vomited forcefully again.
With nothing left in her stomach and her heart still racing, Allie slumped down the wall next to the toilet and wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her hand. Feeling scared and alone, she carefully got to her feet and turned on the spigot, hoping a nice long shower would help her relax and feel like herself again.
She was right. The shower did make the nausea and headache subside, and Allie began to feel much better. She kne
w that Patience meant well by telling her to stay home, however, being alone was the last thing Allie wanted. She felt like a stranger in her own apartment; the fabric of her clothes felt odd against her skin, the food Patience left for her had tasted a little off, and the air in the apartment smelled stale and moldy.
As she went about her usual morning routine, Allie couldn’t stop thinking about how few details she remembered about what happened at the bank. She knew the situation could have been worse, but every time she tried to remember anything, the waves of sickness returned.
Eventually, Allie gave in to the nausea and reluctantly decided to stay home. She changed back into her pajamas and crawled back into bed and began flipping mindlessly from channel to channel, finding nothing that truly interested her. As she was about to call Patience about not coming to work, Allie froze when she saw Kevin and his two brothers on the screen, receiving the key to the city for stopping the robbery at Bloodburg Federal Bank.
“I’m feeling great,” Andy said to the reporter, who stared up at him with stars in her eyes.
“What the hell?” Allie muttered, quickly turning the volume up. “Kevin?”
Andy held up the glossy wooden plaque with the shiny gold key. “This means so much to our family, and I couldn’t have done it without my brothers.”
“That lying son of a bitch!” Allie screamed at the television, clicking the remote off. “Only child, my ass!” She jumped out of bed and stomped into her shoes. Flinging on her coat, she grabbed her keys and stormed out of the apartment.
Allie paced back and forth, trying to hail a cab for a solid ten minutes before one finally pulled up to the curb.
“What the hell took so long?” Allie grumbled as she climbed into the car. “Never mind…just take me downtown.”
“Hey, it’s a busy day, lady,” the driver apologized, swerving into traffic. “Everyone’s heading to the parade for the bank robbery heroes.”
“Oh, Jesus. There’s a parade for them, too?” she griped, checking her phone.
Allie had texted We need to talk! to Kevin’s phone while waiting for a cab, but there was no response.
“Why not? Stuff like this doesn’t happen every day in Bloodburg,” the driver argued. “Those brothers managed to save every single one of the hostages.”
“Well, that’s bullshit,” Allie snapped. “I know for a fact that isn’t true.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked, repeatedly eyeing Allie in the rearview mirror.
“Because I was one of the hostages,” she admitted as her head began to pound and her stomach lurched.
“Are you serious?” The driver exclaimed, taking his eyes off the road. “So, what really happened?”
“I…I don’t know for sure,” she admitted, somewhat distracted as her eyes fluttered. The bright morning sun coming through the cab windows was making her headache worse. “I can’t really remember. There was some sort of gas…” A massive wave of nausea washed over Allie as she tried to think about Kevin and the events at the bank. Did he come in while I was making the deposit? she thought to herself. Was he already inside the bank and I just didn’t see him before I blacked out? Why was he even there in the first place? None of this makes any sense. Suddenly, the world started to spin. She couldn’t breathe and her vision was blurred.
“Stop!” Allie groaned. “I’m going to be sick!”
The driver spun the wheel and screeched to a stop with the passenger side wheels up on the sidewalk. “No puking in my cab! Get out!”
Allie whipped the door open and jumped out of the cab. She darted over to a municipal trash bin and began to dry heave violently.
The cab driver jumped out of the car and rushed to her side. “Jesus, lady. Are you all right? You need me to call an ambulance or something?”
She dry heaved a few more times until the nausea passed. “No, I’ll be fine,” Allie replied, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. “Thanks…just go.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” he answered, slightly irritated, jumping back into his cab and speeding off down the street.
She stumbled over to a nearby bench and sat, taking deep breaths and trying to compose herself.
“Here,” a man’s voice said.
Allie squinted at the clean, folded handkerchief he held out to her. “Thank you so much,” she said, taking it and wiping the cloth across her forehead. “I must have food poisoning or something.”
“I’d go with the something,” he replied, sitting down next to her. “Nausea? Sharp pain behind your eyes? Crippling headaches?” the man asked in a compassionate voice. “Almost feel as if you’re not comfortable within your own skin?”
She nodded. “Exactly. I take it you’ve had food poisoning like this?”
“It’s not food poisoning, but I can help you,” he offered kindly. “Just take my hand and I’ll make it all go away.”
Allie bristled. “Back off, creep!” she snapped, slapping away his hand. “I don’t even know…you…wait a—” Allie stared at the man before finally recognizing him. “Joseph?”
“Hello, Allie.”
“You’re the guy I spilled my coffee on, right?”
“Yes.” Joseph smiled. “And as you can see, the suit is just fine.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just feel like shit right now…I think it was those leftovers.”
“Like I said,” Joseph explained calmly. “It’s not food poisoning. You’re suffering from the post-traumatic stress of trying to recall some painful memories. Your brain is trying to protect itself by distracting your body with flu-like symptoms—”
“Wait,” she interrupted. “How did you know I was having memory issues?”
Joseph leaned back, adjusting his glasses. “How are you feeling right now as we’re talking?”
Allie paused, silent as she breathed in and out, and then looked back at Joseph. “Fine,” she said, baffled. It was the strangest thing; she didn’t feel sick at all. There was no pain behind her eyes, no headache, nothing. How is this possible? she wondered.
“Right now, you’re in the moment. You aren’t fighting your mind.” Joseph pointed across the street. “How does that alley over there make you feel?”
Allie tried to focus on the alley, but could barely see it. Her eyes were flooded with flashes of light and she saw glimpses of a man pulling her into the alley. Suddenly, she leaned forward and dry heaved again. “I…I don’t understand what’s happening,” she blurted.
“Look at me, Allie,” Joseph urged. “Concentrate on my voice, and only my voice…just breathe.”
She turned and stared at Joseph, trying to block out the images. Slowly, her symptoms subsided. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked frantically.
“Your memories are trying to break through,” Joseph explained. “If you take my hand, I can help you remember everything safely, or I can try to wipe your memory clean of the past two days and hope it sticks this time. It’s up to you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Allie argued. “Are you a hypnotist or something?”
Joseph laughed. “Not really, but if it helps you better understand the choice you need to make…then, yes.”
“Well, it’s simple,” Allie replied stubbornly. “I want my memory back! Who wouldn’t?”
“Someone who might figure knowing the truth would be harder to bear than not knowing at all,” Joseph said ominously.
Allie stiffened. “Are you saying you know what happened to me…the things I can’t remember?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because I’m the one that blocked your memories in the first place,” Joseph admitted. “Now, I have some rather important things I’m putting off, just for you. Are you going to choose, or do I have to decide for you?” He held out his hand.
Allie took a deep breath. “Fine,” she agreed, grabbing his hand.
“Thanks,” Allie said, trying to relax. “Wait, what do you mean? Four hun—”
“Nowala chiatallo,” Joseph quickly interrupted.
Instantly, Allie’s brain burned as every lost moment flooded back into her mind, starting with the alleyway. The instant she relived the last memory of walking out of the bank, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed onto Joseph’s shoulder.
Joseph pulled out his phone. “Marcus, bring the car. I think our new friend is going to need a good breakfast when she wakes up.”
“You got it,” Marcus replied calmly.
It was only a few moments before the car pulled up.
Marcus hopped out and ran around to open the back door, helping Joseph put Allie’s unconscious body onto the back seat. Then they sped off, blending into traffic as they headed toward the center of the city.
***
Allie opened her eyes to see Joseph sitting directly across from her. She was in a comfortable cushioned chair, leaning back against the wall. The syrupy aroma of pancakes wafted through the air. “Joseph?” she asked, still feeling slightly dizzy.
“Welcome back, Allie,” he calmly replied, cracking a small smile as he placed his fedora on the seat beside him.
Allie looked down at the red and white striped tablecloth and then looked around the room. “Where am I?” she said, trying to control her panic. This was the third time in a week she’d woken up with no idea where she was or how she’d gotten there. She nervously watched the waitresses buzzing from table to table, serving coffee and taking orders, but no one paid any attention at all to her and Joseph.