One: Blackmailed


Had I known that on March eleventh at eight o’clock in the evening I would find myself crammed between a sticky green dumpster and against Old Man Marley’s Lobster Shack, I would never have volunteered to chase after Magnus, my dad’s fourteen-year-old yellow Labrador.

It was a Friday night and I was in a good enough mood – on account it was a three day weekend from school – that I didn’t mind putting up with my father or his drinking.  But I never expected this.

Magnus stood inches from me wagging his tail but refusing to come to me nevertheless.  And both those sparkling eyes and wide panting smile suggested that the blasted beast was laughing at me.  But he was no longer my main concern as I looked passed him at the brick wall dead end, feet away.

Two men cornered a third.  Both were dressed in black and both carried vicious looking hand guns.  The third man cowered on his knees pleeding in a blubbering voice.  The other two spoke in hushed angry sounding voices.

One lifted his gun and a shrill cry came from the cowering guy.  There was a crack of thunder temporarily deafening my ears then the third man crumpled onto the ground.  I stared horrified at the body.  Had I just witnessed a murder?

Magnus whined and I paled.  Dumb mutt was walking toward me, his tail between his legs.  I pushed at him even as he tried to wiggle his plump body in my hiding spot.

“No, go away.”  I hissed pushing at the mutt again.

There was a crunch of leaves as they were pressed between leather and cement.  A gun cocked and cold metal pressed against my forehead.  I looked up at the gun, locking eyes with the man holding it.  Wait – he wasn’t a man at all but a boy about my own age.  But how?

“Come out from behind there and don’t try to run.”  The boy demanded in a commanding voice.

My heart flew to my throat; my lungs slammed against my chest.  Every instinct flared inside my body, screaming at me to move backwards, to run.  But I can’t run.

He pressed the gun deeper against my skull and beckoned with his hand.  “Don’t make me pull the trigger.  I’ve done worse things than kill children.”

Children?  What is he?

Placing a shaky hand on the dumpster and the other against the wall, I pushed myself out of my hiding spot.  As I passed Magnus I glared down at him.

Stupid mutt.

Once I crawled free from confinement I could stand.  Two strong arms clasped around my upper arms pulling them straight back.  I bit my lips stifling a cry as pain shot like a beacon toward my brain.  There was a splintering crack followed by a cool numb tingling along my right arm.

“Who are you, boy?”  The boy with the gun snarled.  “Who do you work for?”

“Work for?”  I gasped blood falling down my lip from the cut on my tongue.  “I’m just an ordinary kid attending Northridge Junior High.  My name is Glen Rowan and I’m twelve years old--”  I started blubbering.  I couldn’t help it.  After all that kid with the gun killed the other man so what would stop him from doing me in as well?

“I don’t care your name or age.  You are nothing to me but a sack of steaming guts on this hard cobblestone.  What were you doing here watching us?”  The kid spat waving his gun threateningly at my face.

I resisted the urge to wipe the spittle sliding down my cheek; not to mention holding back from peeing my pants.  “I was looking for my dog.  Please, I didn’t do anything, I--”

“What did you hear?  Or see?”  His eyes narrowed and I heard the gun click.

“N-nothing.  I s-s-swear.”  I choked out, my throat gurgled from the excess saliva.  I couldn’t hold my piss much longer.

“I think you did.”  The boy growled and moved the opening of the gun over my right eye.  “But I am feeling generous tonight after a successful mission so I will give you a choice.”

He pressed the gun harder until tears fell from that eye.  The strong arms holding me still tightened raising my own arms higher.  A slight splintering told me that soon my other arm would give way.  I bit hard on my tongue, quiet whimpering escaped from my throat.

“Do you want to live or die?  Think hard because living will come with necessary consequences.”  The kid asked.

Of course I want to live.  Yet I couldn’t find my voice.  Twice I swallowed hard but nothing would come out.  It felt like the saliva cemented my mouth together.  What were these consequences that he spoke of?  Would it be easier to die?  But could I do it?  What about dad?  Magnus?  Could I leave them?  But I want to live!

“Answer kid.”  The boy seethed.  “Or I will decide for you.”

“Live.”  I whispered finding my voice hoarse and my throat extremely dry.

“Time’s up.”  He crowed obviously not aware I had answered.

“I want to live!”  I screamed; my body gave way to the sobs I had been holding back.

The gun fell from my head and I looked up almost too afraid to see what was happening.  My jaw dropped.  He was smiling.  The boy was grinning wide but in those eyes was a glint hiding in the corner conspicuously yet I still noticed it.  That glint of cunning malice as if he…

“You wanted me to choose life didn’t you.”

“Oh yes.”  He whispered sheathing his gun.  “Because killing you would have been the painless, easiest way out.”

Somehow I had the feeling I had just received an acceptance into hell…
Another click, another barrel pressed against the back of my head this time.  My arms were released and the right fell uselessly at my side.  The pain soared up my spine and the tightened skin at my shoulder told me that if I wasn’t careful the splintered bone would pierce through.

“We should sling his arm first Daemon.”  A deep voice – too deep for someone seemingly as old as me – spoke softly behind me.

Daemon opened a pack at his hip and pulled a neat roll of bandages.  “These will have to do until Admiral decides his fate.  Why fix up someone who might be dead by morning.”

Fear fired up again.  “What?  But I thought--”

“I said you wouldn’t die here and now but I also said living would have consequences.  Nothing is official until the Admiral makes his decision.  Now hold still.”

In two swift strides, faster than my eyes could see, Daemon crossed the distance between us and placed a hand on my shoulder.  Again, I bit back a scream.  Nothing said ‘wimp’ more than balling in front of two incredibly tough guys and I had already broken down once that night I wouldn’t reduce myself farther.  I took in a deep breath.

Two thin hands placed on my shoulder – one at the blade and the other at the front – then pressed.  A sharp crack snapped lightning throughout my brain and I screamed.

“Keep it down or you’ll alert more people.”  Daemon hissed; his nimble fingers raced along the bandages to prepare the sling.

Easy for him to say.  Judging by his face, I hardly believed he knew the meaning of pain, or fear, for that matter.

Cinching my arm to my chest, Daemon stood and looked passed me to his partner.  Metal pressed against the back of my head again.

“Now I want you to follow me.  Try anything and Mik here will blow your brains out.  You are to keep silent and do exactly as I say, no questions asked.  These orders are vital to your life.”

I flinched.  How could this boy possibly as old as me, maybe a year or two older, act in such a brusque manner?  My father beat me but that never turned me into a bully.  Regardless, I had to do what he said if I wanted to live.  And I wanted to live.

He turned and started walking back out of the alley and – with a press from the gun – so did I.

A black sedan sat at the mouth of the alleyway and the headlights blinked rapidly.  An alarm, and I’m sure it was Daemon who had the keys.  A hand grabbed my unbroken arm roughly and forced my steps toward the backseat of the car.  Daemon opened the back door and that hand pushed me into the car.  I barely had time to pull my leg inside before the car door slammed shut.

Where are we going?  I wanted to say; fought the words down my throat too.  I didn’t know how much he would keep to his word about the whole killing me.  And I wasn’t going to find out.

For about an hour or so – I couldn’t tell exactly how much time had passed with it being dark outside – we drove down unmarked and barren streets.  After a while, I dared to look out the window.  Where were we?  I wasn’t even sure that we were still in the same city anymore.

Not one word was uttered between either of the men and neither spoke to me.  I reverted my eyes to the window again trying to make heads or tails of any familiar landmarks.  We definitely weren’t in the city anymore.  The road was dark and endless with only a spattering of street lamps here and there to lightly illuminate the edges of the road.  After a while, my eyes grew heavy and I yawned unable to keep it at bay any longer.

To sleep, to give into human necessity now would open up a weakness to these two men but it was a powerful necessity; one I couldn’t fight.  In seconds I was shaking my head and tapping my cheek to wake my body from its dose.  Loaded sandbags hung from each eyelid pulling them stubbornly down.  I leaned my forehead against the icy cold glass window.

I’m just going to rest my eyes…