Bitten (14 page)

Alyssa paced the floor. Feeling a chill, she put on a white medical coat she found hanging on the back of a nearby chair. The nametag read: Boyles, M.D. Whoever that may have been. Alyssa knew that couldn’t stay in this place any longer. It was too dangerous. She had to escape. Reaching over she grabbed a surgeon’s scalpel off the table and tucked it into the sleeve of the white medical coat she found lying over the back of one of the chairs.

Before she knew it, the hour had crawled by, and the doors swung opened and Treslan marched in with two guards following close behind him. They were armed with Uzis. It was probably the only gun Alyssa knew by name.

“What are your results? Will my daughter get better?”

Alyssa didn’t much care for the way he phrased the question. Apparently
not
getting better wasn’t an option. Looking at him with sad eyes, she spoke in a comforting tone. The kind one uses when consoling a dear friend after a loved one passes. “I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do for her.”

“What do you mean
we
?” Treslan said with a laugh. “I haven’t given up on my daughter even if you have.” Jamal Treslan clapped his hands and the two big guards picked Alyssa up by her armpits and dragged her out of the room.

“Wait, where you taking me?”

Instead of answering her Treslan simply sat down next to his zombified daughter’s bed and began singing the lullaby ‘Hush Little Baby’ to her.

A shiver shot down Alyssa’s spine.
The eerie sound of his singing flooded out into the halls.

“Dahlia’s gone,” Alyssa shouted as the guards carried her a
way. “She’s gone!”

Treslan ignored her. He’d deal with her later. Now he would sing to his beloved Dahlia. Gently, Treslan brushed the hair from his daughter’s face with his fingers and sang.

“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Papa’s going to buy you a mockingbird. If that mockingbird doesn’t sing, papa’s going to buy you a diamond ring.”

Treslan’s eyes filled with tears as he sang. Nobody knew his agony. No father should have to
suffer the agony of having to watch his beloved child endure such a horrible illness. Unable to hold or comfort her, Treslan swore he’d do anything it took, go to the ends of the earth if he had to, but he’d find a cure and restore his dear, beloved, Dahlia.

His voice catching in his throat,
Treslan paused, wiped his eyes, and then began singing the next verse.

“And if that diamond ring turns to brass,
papa’s going to buy you a looking glass.”

MORNING CAME AND JENNIFER HURLEY got dressed. She had grown tired of wearing the
same clothes day in and day out. Although, she couldn’t really tell how many days it had been. Three? Four maybe? All she knew was they had enough supplies till the end of the week. Still, she wanted to get upstairs, get some fresh air, and so at first light she snuck upstairs and rummaged around the sportswear section of the store. Luckily enough she found some fitness clothes and exchanged her business attire for something a little more comfortable.

Grabb
ing some things she threw together a makeshift outfit which involved a skimpy blue two-piece bikini, the closest thing to lingerie they had, and an off-white colored track suit with an aqua green stripe down the side. She slipped it on but made sure to only zip it up part way. She wanted her ample cleavage to hang out some, as she felt it would prove to be a good distraction for the boys. Well, whenever they get back that is.

Standing in front of the mirror in the lady’s restroom Hurley wondered why they were still held up in t
he health club waiting for Jared “G.I. Joe” Barnes to freakin’ return. Even the fearless Ulysses Noble had grown worried and had set out early in the morning to look for him. He took the boy-wonder with him too, so now she was all alone. Almost.

“Still there?” she asked hesitantly as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

“Where else would I be?”

A huge feeling a relief washed over her at the sound of her own voice, which was a little weird when she thought about it. “I did it.”

“You did what?”

“I looked through their things after they all went to b
ed. But I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find the thing you’re looking for.”

“Keep looking
. We’re running out of time. We need to hurry.”

“What I
need
is a good fuck.”

“What is it with you and sex
, anyway? Do you feel so bad that your step-daddy raped you that you’re willing to let any guy into your pants so that maybe, for that brief moment of ecstasy, you can feel a real sense of love?”

“No, it’s not like that
at all.”

“
Oh, really? What’s it like then? Do tell. Because, if you ask me, all you seem to do is abuse yourself relentlessly with the same fucking phallic-obsessed bullshit that tainted you in the first place. Always roaming around like a bitch in heat, spreading your legs for any guy that comes snooping by.”

“Enough!”

“Ooh, did I strike a nerve?”

“Okay, yeah. I’m pissed. Bad shit has happened to me all my life. So fucking what? Life isn’t fair. But I like who I am
now. That’s what matters. So don’t go judging me like you know me.”

“
Oh, that’s rich coming from you! If it hadn’t dawned on you yet, I am you.”

“Then you know how much I love sex.
You already know the reasons why I need it. If I couldn’t have it, night and day, and every moment in between, I’d disappear. I’d be the girl who never existed. I’d be the girl who was raped—and then forgotten. I’d be just one of the many countless victims. No thank you. If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to be remembered goddammit.”

“You’ll be remembered as t
he Whore of all the Earth. Is that really what you want?”

“
Better to be that then used, treated like a piece of garbage, then discarded and forgotten. No, the world will remember the name Jennifer Hurley. I promise.”

Jennifer’s reflection smiled back at her, but the smile was jeering. Sinister. Then a noise rang out. It was a metal clang. It
came from the basement and sounded like someone was busting the lock to the back entrance.

“You better see to it,” Jen’s doppelganger said.

“Shhh!” she replied, putting her finger to her lips as she tiptoed back downstairs. Jennifer looked around for something she could use as a weapon but there was nothing to be found. But she remembered where she could get one.

Quietly she eased up to the door
to the baths and cracked it open a notch. Staring out of the crack she didn’t see any immediate threat, so she crouched down and made her way to Noble’s army green rucksack. Slipping her hand in she searched for the machete she discovered last night when she went through his things. Jennifer unfastened the leather strap on the sheath and gently slid out the shiny blade. She could see her reflection in the gloss of the blade—the beautiful blonde with icy blue eyes. With a murderous intent, her reflection said, “Good girl.”

A shadow slid by along the wall in the
room behind her. Although she didn’t see it, she felt as though something was in the bath chambers with her. Luckily she spent some time familiarizing herself with the floor plan of the bathhouse. It was a labyrinth of interconnecting pools. Almost nearly every room connected to the next. They had remodeled a portion of it to look like a Japanese styled hot spring with bamboo shoots feeding water to the pools. She felt the bamboo motif would provide good cover and headed toward the Japanese section of the baths.

Jennifer Hurley gripped the knife tight in both hands and tiptoed tow
ard the front entrance of the Japanese pools just to check if it was safe. Suddenly there was another clank and her heart jumped a beat out of fright. It sounded awfully close. She quickly ran to the back wall and slid herself into the shadows cast by one of the bamboo displays. Playing cat and mouse was a precarious business when you didn’t know who you were playing it with.

She tried to breathe slowly, calmly, but every time that strange clank rang out she gasped
a little. It clanked four more times then died down. After several minutes of not hearing anything, she decided to creep along the wall, crouching low, like a panther.

Coming to the corner, whic
h segued into the next series of pools, she heard the loud clank. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the knife hard and leapt out screaming.

“Holy shit, lady!” the man said as he
reeled back. He was dark skinned, had slicked back oily hair, and gripped a pipe in both hands holding it up like a baseball bat ready to defend himself. His prison issue orange jumpsuit and ankle monitor gave away the fact that he was an escaped convict. Some recently unfastened handcuffs sat on the ground next to his feet.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jennifer
barked, in the most threatening voice she could muster.

Eyeing her fine rack which was practically
bulging out of her jacket, without so much as attempting to make eye contact the man replied, “The name’s Derrick Hanson.”

“What do you want?”

Looking down at his ankle monitor, he replied, “I want to get this goddamn thing off my foot. It itches like the goddamned clap.” He grinned a grin which was probably meant to be enduring, but it merely crept Jennifer out. Jen didn’t like the macho chauvinistic vibe he was putting out, and without being consciously aware of it, she continued to hold the knife between herself and him. “So you’re like an escaped prisoner?”

“
It’s that obvious?” he laughed.

Jennifer had a bad feeling about this guy. She knew that she had to stall. Keep him talking until one of the guys got back. “The bright orange sort of gave it away. So, h
ow did you get out anyway?”

“I was being transferred
from the city jail to the state penitentiary by bus. I guess some lunatic walked right out in front of us, cuz suddenly the driver swerved, overcorrect, and the bus flipped over. Got roughed up a bit. Hit my noggin somethin’ fierce, but I fared better than the drive. That guy got hammered. Knocked clean out. Luckily, a few of us were able to get out the back before anyone was the wise, and now here we are.”

“How many got out with you
?” Jennifer asked, looking around suspiciously.

“Oh, don’t worry
, hot stuff. It’s just you and me down here. By the way, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

Jennifer could see a mirror over on the opposite wall. Her reflection gave her a stern look—a look which warned her not to share too much information with this stranger.

“I’d rather not say,” Jennifer informed.

“Well,
don’t you worry your pretty little head. I have a niece that’s shy too.”

“I’m not shy,” Jennifer protested, realizing too late it might not have been the smarted thing to say.

“Well, then. I hate to say it sugar, but that’s a little bit rude, don’cha think?”

“
No offense, but I don’t know you. And you as sure as hell don’t know me.”

Raising his hands defensively
, Hanson said, “Whoa there, sweetheart. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Just a little harmless flirting is all.”

“Well what did you expect?
You’re wearing fucking orange for fuck’s sake! For all I know you could be a mass murderer or a serial rapist.”

“Actually, no. I’m just a lowly drug dealer. Tony is the one you have to worry about. Although his m
ama meant well, and did her damnedest to raise him right, Tony just ain’t right in the head, you see.”

“Who the fuck is Tony?”

“Oh, remember just a moment ago when I said we were alone down here?”

“Yeah,” Hurley replied, squinting at Hanson.

“
Well,” Hanson laughed, “I lied.”

Jennifer looked back at her reflection in the mirror, and it screamed out, “Behind you!”

But it was too late. Before she could turn around a metal bar bashed Jennifer Hurley in the back of her skull. She immediately blacked out.

Grimacing
from the sharp stinging pain of a throbbing head, Jennifer opened her eyes to see two blurry figures standing over her. Regaining consciousness, she suddenly felt a pair of hands on her, but she was still too out of it to fight them off. The large one, Tony, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder and then carried her over to Derrick Hanson as he gave the orders of where to set her down.

“Put her down over there on that massage table.”

Big Tony wasn’t at all gentle. He merely tossed Jennifer down like a sack of potatoes and she grunted as she slammed into the table. Looking up, Derrick Hanson stood over her with a sick smile on his face. Unzipping his bright orange jumpsuit, he reached inside and then pulled out his cock.

“You’re going to lay there like a good little girl and take it as quiet as a church mouse. If you so much as squeak, I will cut off your head and let big Tony have his way with your corpse. Do we understand each other?”

“Y-yes.” Jennifer answered. Although her voice trembled it was more out of a concealed rage than actual fear. “And let me tell you something, you stupid fuck,” Jennifer sneered, “If you let me live, I will hunt you down, cut off your dick, and force you to fucking eat it.”

Big Tony laughed and Hanson shot him
a sharp look that shut him up. Turning back toward Jen, Hanson added, “Well then, I best not let you live.”

Big Tony leaned up against the wall and used the knife to slice off some excess thumbnail. He just watched them with a dumb smile on his face
as he was content just to sit by and watch the show.

Derrick rubbed himself, with a twisted sort of pleasure, and got himself ready to tear into
her. “Hope you don’t mind, but Big Tony likes to watch.”

Jennifer looked over at Big Tony who winked back at her. She turned away.

“Now take off your clothes like the good little slut you are,” Hanson ordered.

Jennifer began to unzip her jacket, slowly, to tease him. She could tell Hanson was having a hard time getting
it up. Men like him always did. They couldn’t function so they took their sexual frustration out on women in the form of violence. Hurley knew if she resisted he’d try to regain control and become even more violent. It was all about the power. Simple minded men always wanted power. So she stalled best she could by letting him think he was in charge.

“While I’m down here on my knees, I could suck you to perfection if you want?”