Episodes of Violence Page 14

  Her heart felt like it dropped into her stomach.

  “Hey kiddo,” she said and walked up behind him. He flinched and wiped at his face. For as brilliant as he was, he was still just a twelve-year-old boy. “I’m sorry for speaking to you like I did.”

  “Okay.” He remained in his curled up position.

  Amber felt her anger rising again. She was so pissed at herself and whacked the side of her head using her hand. If she could kick her own ass she would. Then realizing how she was losing control, she inhaled and exhaled a few times and let her anger go. She hugged Jason from behind, pressing her cheek against his and again saying how sorry she was.

  “I’ve got no excuse,” she said. “I know spilling your juice was an accident. Perfectly normal. It happens to the best of us. Hell, I’ve done worse. Do you forgive me?”

  He nodded and continued to wipe away tears. She let go of him and spun him around so he faced her. “I’ve been working too much and letting things from my past get to me. I’m not going to allow those things to affect me anymore. I’m going to make changes. Maybe even talk to someone. A professional.”

  “You can talk to me,” he said.

  “If I felt I could, I would. You know that.”

  “I’ve known something was wrong from the minute you came home from college. Something awful must have happened to you while you were there. It could be any number of things. I won’t guess and try to read your facial expressions and tells, and I won’t beat myself up trying to figure it out. No point worrying if I don’t know what it is.”

  She stared at him, admiring how brilliant and adult-like he was, then said, “I’ll tell you this: something bad did happen. I was hurt, but I wasn’t destroyed. Wounds take time to heal, and when I do fully heal I’ll be stronger than before. Trust me, I’m going to be okay.”

  “I do trust you,” he said and hugged her.

  After a few moments, they separated. “I have to get to work, but are you going to be okay now?”

  “Yup.” He vehemently nodded.

  She rubbed his head and laughed, feeling warm inside for the first time in weeks. “See you tonight,” she said and hurried out of the basement and off to work.

  ●●●

  Amber arrived home to a sobering scene. Her brother’s drone lay in pieces on the kitchen table. It appeared to have been crushed, the plastic flattened and jagged. Her mother was at the sink washing off vegetables for dinner.

  “What happened?” Amber asked.

  “Some little bastards… that’s what happened,” Judy said not turning around.

  “Someone did this?”

  “He went to the park with his drone,” she said, placed a red pepper in a bowl off to the side, shut off the faucet and faced Amber. “Some bullies from school were there. Older kids. First, they stole the remote controller, then flew the thing into the side of a building. It crashed from there and then they stomped on it while holding him in a bear hug. He managed to kick one of the kids in the balls, but that only pissed them off. They punched him in his stomach and gave him a black eye. Besides the physical stuff, which is bad enough, they verbally assaulted him to no end. I could barely understand him he was so upset.”

  Amber couldn’t move. Her fingers burned from her clenched fists. She focused on the broken drone, the thing a representative of how her brother was feeling. Her mother kept speaking but the woman’s words were nothing more than meaningless muffled nonsense. Amber’s peripheral vision was fading as her focus intensified.

  You need to do something about this, The Voice screamed. You’re a victim. A coward who did nothing. Who took what she was given and accepted it. You want that for Jason? It’ll only get worse for him, you know. Bullies need to be taught a lesson. Need to be stopped. They need to know if you fuck with Jason, you fuck with the devil.

  “Amber?” her mother said loudly, pulling Amber back to reality.

  Amber’s face was warm and felt like it might burst. She sucked in a breath and let it out. Trying to kill yourself? Have to remember to breathe, woman.

  “What’s wrong, your face…?”

  “I’m fine, just pissed.”

  You haven’t even asked how Jason’s doing. If he’s up in his room or in the basement. Don’t you care?

  “Shut up, of course I care,” she said aloud.

  “Excuse me?” her mother said, the woman’s eyebrows sky-rocketing up her forehead.

  “Nothing. How’s Jason?”

  “He’s upset. Shaken. How do you think he’d be?”

  “Where is he?”

  “In his room. If he’s sleeping, leave him be.”

  Amber left the kitchen and went upstairs. She stood outside his door and stared at the Do Not Enter Unless You Want To sign and almost laughed despite how angry she was feeling. She held her stomach when the giggles came on. Her anger grew as the laughing commenced, the act uncontrollable. It didn’t make sense. Raising her right hand, she smacked herself. Once. Twice. The sting was real and acted like a switch, shutting off whatever it was that caused her to—

  Crack up. That’s what happening. You’re losing it.

  Amber turned the knob and entered the room. Jason lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. The flesh around his left eye was plum-colored. A chill swept through her, causing the hairs on her arms to stand. She approached the bed and sat next to him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sad,” he said flatly.

  A simple response that said so much. One word that spoke volumes and told a complete tale of his life at and after school. The way she had treated him that morning made her feel worse. He was such a loving and caring boy who deserved so much better.

  “I know kids can be jerks,” she said. “They aren’t happy with themselves, or they’re jealous. Bullies are results of that kind of crap.”

  “I know. I’ve done plenty of research on bullies. Figured it was the best thing to do in my situation. But the truth is they never want to be like me. They like being normal and believing people look up to them or are afraid of them. I like being me. I’m not better than they are, but I am more intelligent. I don’t fit in. I’m fine with me being me, but they aren’t. They are a constant reminder of how different I am.”

  Amber’s stomach tightened.

  “How long have they been bothering you?”

  “Those particular ones—for the last year. But in general, I’ve been picked on all my life, and I’m only twelve. But it was never like this. Those guys don’t let up. Whenever they see me they call me names. Poke, push and punch me.” His voice cracked. “Things aren’t getting easier. Life is getting harder.” He turned away and Amber heard him crying.

  She rubbed his back softly and wanted to tell him things would be okay, but the words wouldn’t come. Because they were a lie. High school was tough on a lot of students. But the real world was tougher. It was a place where decisions were made and people did things that counted and were more detrimental. To tell him life was going to get better was rubbish.

  “Look, the world isn’t fair. Nothing says it’s supposed to be, but then again, nothing says it shouldn’t be. It’s how you make it. It isn’t your fault that you’re smarter than your peers. There is no easy answer. The solution is to involve your teachers, talk with mom and dad, me, and do what you have to do in order to make it through. You need to use what happens to you, take whatever you can from it, learn and let it make you stronger. I’d love to tell you things get easier after high school, but they don’t. The world is full of assholes.”

  Her thoughts went to Rex and what he’d done to her.

  That’s right. He’ll always be with you. Inside you. Forever and ever.

  Amber put her hands to the sides of her head. “Shut up. Leave me alone.”

  Jason turned toward her with a perplexed look on his face. “What?”

  Amber lowered her hands. “I… I was just showing you something. A technique among many. Sometimes you need to get mad and let it out. Scream, shout, punch som
ething. Whatever works.”

  Jason smiled and sat up. “Really?”

  She was relieved he bought her lie and that it could even possibly help him. “See how I shocked you into another state of mind?”

  “And people think I’m weird.”

  “You’re not weird. You’re special. As special as they come, and don’t you ever forget that.” Something clicked inside her and she wanted to cry. Clearing her throat, she fought off the emotion. “Bullies and scumbags, like those kids, will grow up to be bigger assholes and scumbags. Ignore and stay away from them as much as you can.”

  “I try, but they seek me out. When they see me down the hall, they call me names. It’s like I have a bully-attracting disease. They won’t leave me alone. I went to one of my teachers and all that did was put a bigger target on my back.”

  “Bullies are a part of life,” she said softly. “It’s good to learn about them now. Get it over with. Figure them out. I know you’ll do it. We’ll get through this together.”

  “Thanks, Amber,” Jason said.

  “Anytime.” She turned and left his room, shutting the door behind her.

  That’s it. Spew the bullshit. Spray it all over the room.

  Amber told herself she was going to ignore The Voice. She was going to get better and get rid of it. Ignoring it was the first step.

  I’m here to stay, like Rex’s stink. What you need to do is get the names of the kids who fucked with Jason and make them pay.

  Amber understood that people talked to themselves. It was normal to do so. A person’s inner voice was essential to survival. Essential to plain old boring life. It sifted through rights and wrongs. But the voice she heard was more than inner thoughts. She’d even given it a name. The Voice had been born or created by her rape. Or maybe it had been there the whole time and was set free by the horrendous experience. It was like the damaged part of her had separated itself and had a mind of its own. She’d had some sort of split. It was her, all her, but unidentifiable and uncontrollable. She was afraid of it, but at the same time, she wanted to listen to it and gain strength from it. It was the dark part of her soul reaching out. It could allow her to do things she normally wouldn’t do for one reason or another. As long as she respected it, got help with her issues, it wouldn’t consume her, but would allow her to never again be a victim. It was ultimately a coping mechanism and she had to let it run its course.

  Stop pondering shit, and listen. You can’t let your brother suffer anymore. The defenseless like him, like how you used to be, need to be defended.

  What was she supposed to do, maim the bullies? Kill them? Is that what her darkness was telling her? She waited for an answer, for what her dark side wanted.

  Teach them a lesson. You did nothing to those who wronged and hurt you. It’s time to begin anew.

  Amber told herself there was nothing she could have done without making things ugly for herself.

  Of course there were. Still are. Things you can do.

  Amber asked if The Voice also meant for her to kill Rex. Or to cut off his cock? Or hurt the others who didn’t help her? Scar or mutilate them? Punish all those who didn’t help her?

  Yes. Yes. Yes. Once a rapist, always a rapist. He doesn’t deserve to have a penis.

  The truth was that she’d love to slice off his balls. But thinking something was far removed from actually doing it. Thoughts were just that and free to roam around her mind. What she needed to do was concentrate on helping her brother.

  You’re pathetic! Getting raped made you weak!

  Amber screamed FUCK YOU inside her head. She also understood she needed to do something to those bullies, despite their age. What were they, thirteen? Fourteen? Fifteen max? It didn’t matter.

  I know what you’re thinking. Play it safe, right? Tell their parents. Sure, do that. MORON. Who do you think they learned their bullying ways from? They’ll have no sympathy for Jason, and when they find out a girl is fighting a boy’s battle, they’ll really want Jason to suffer. REAL SMART, AMBER.

  What the hell was she supposed to do? How could she help him? Then it dawned on her, a wicked, yet not too evil, way to exact vengeance.

  In her room, she went into her closet and rifled around the top shelf until she found the blanket she was looking for. Taking it down, she unwrapped the BB gun, a CO2 powered toy—toy? It’s a fucking gun. Don’t be naive—and admired it. Next to the stock were two CO2 cartridges and a box of BBs.

  Her father had wanted to teach her about guns and how to shoot them. She wanted no part of it. In a strange compromise, her father bought her a BB gun and together they practiced shooting with it. He’d said it would be a great squirrel deterrent, but there was no way she was killing an animal with that thing. Her father had thought after practicing with the BB gun—and getting good at hitting targets—that she’d want to move up to rifles. But she hadn’t wanted to. Guns were loud, obnoxious and only good for killing people or hunting for survival. And while she understood they were essential in the right hands and that hunting was fine, she had no interest. She kept the BB gun, occasionally taking it out to fire at cans and bottles, but eventually stowed it away where it sat in her closet wrapped in a blanket.

  She hadn’t understood her dad’s desire to have her become a gun enthusiast, but guessed it was because her grandfather had been one, and there was no way Jason would be one, so she had been his only hope on passing along his knowledge and something he enjoyed.

  This is good. Really good.

  Yes, Amber did feel good about what she was going to do.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Three days had passed since the events at Dirk’s. The fire department had been alerted to the billowing smoke rising into the air like smoldering volcano ready to erupt. Soon after the first tanker arrived, the police were called. The crime scene was immediately linked to the events at Brewmeyers. With their crimes associated elsewhere, and the trio in the clear, they decided it was time to start the new game.

  The Camry, including the plastic hubcaps, was coated in maroon-colored Plasti Dip. They took with them an axe, baseball bat, machete, crossbow and a morning star—the medieval spiked-ball-and-chain having been purchased online years ago by Bobby as a decoration to go along with his many daggers and swords. Bobby had been a huge Dungeons and Dragons fan and loved collecting weaponry that represented the fantasy age.

  Before heading out, the trio flipped a coin to see who would get to play first. Sage won and took up position in the Camry’s passenger seat. The fake license plate was clicked into position and the scanner was tuned to the proper frequency before Daemon drove off Bobby’s property.

  Bobby sat in the back and was in charge of handing weapons to the player as well as keeping an extra eye on the surrounding area. They headed to the eastern part of the county to an area where the houses were separated by acres of lush forest, keeping views from windows and people in their yards off the witness list.

  They drove for thirty minutes before coming upon a tall man with salt and pepper hair jogging alongside the road, heading in the same direction as the Camry. Daemon brought the car to a crawl.

  “Motherfucker’s all mine,” Sage said. Her chest felt like it swelled as her pulse sped up. Her limbs tingled with excitement. She donned gloves and the hockey mask, then reached back for the crossbow. The weapon was a little bulky when it came to maneuvering in the car, and Daemon was conked on his head.

  “Fuck, babe,” he said and rubbed his noggin.

  “Stop whining,” Sage said, stuck her foot in the weapon’s stirrup, pulled back the string until it locked into place and then loaded the arrow. She climbed halfway out of the window, taking the crossbow with her. Fighting the wind, she aimed the weapon. The car sped up and drew closer to the prey. Despite having him in her sights, she waited.

  The Camry drew closer.

  She waited.

  At any time she could’ve put an arrow anywhere on the jogger she wanted. At least she thought so. Shooting
from a moving vehicle at a moving target could prove tougher than she imagined. It was a new test. One she was looking forward to. But she also wanted her first victim to know he was going to die.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  She thought she could smell the man, a slight hint of cologne and body odor. Bobby was asking what she was waiting for, and it pissed her off. This was her time and she didn’t want to be bothered. “Don’t puss out now,” he said and Sage thought about turning the weapon on him and making him her first.

  With her concentration back on the jogger, she moved her aim from ass to back to neck and head. She couldn’t decide. A kill shot would mean the man had no idea what happened. No fear. No waiting for death to come, knowing there was nothing he could do to save himself. She could shoot him in the calf. He’d go down, be unaware and it would take him time to realize what had happened. He could get away because there was no getting out of the car. That was one of the rules.

  Fuck the rules. If it came to her having to leave the car, she’d do it. Forfeit her points. All she cared about was the kill. But it wouldn’t come to that. No. She now knew how she had to do it.

  “Hey asshole,” she yelled.

  The jogger glanced over his shoulder. His eye grew wide, his face transforming into a mask of terror. Sage pulled the trigger and sent arrow flying. The projectile pierced his cheek and tore right through it, disappearing into the foliage ahead. He stumbled forward and crashed face-first to the asphalt. His legs came up over his head, his back arching like a horseshoe, before they whipped back down.

  Daemon stopped the car a few feet ahead of the jogger. Sage loaded another arrow as the man lay on the road barely moving. A pool of blood formed around his head. She took aim, waiting. He placed his hands on the road and pushed his upper body off the ground. Blood rained down from his mashed nose and mouth, the orifice gaping. His jaw had been shattered and hung low. He looked at Sage and she saw the fear and disbelief in his eyes. She nodded and fired another arrow. It sank into the man’s forehead, jerking it back before all the life left him and his body fell limp. She hollered in triumph.