The Beast (2 page)

Dimitri had been covered in blood, none of it his. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve, leaving smears of bright red blood
on the fabric. He turned slowly towards Sergei’s desk, half expecting to see him holding a gun, but he was sitting still with a smile on his face. Sergei started to clap slowly and said, “Bravo my friend, well done.”

“What are we going to do now?” Dimitri demanded.

“
We
are going to do nothing,” Sergei replied, pushed his chair back and stood up. His hands were flat on the desk; it was metal and looked new. Something went off in the back of Dimitri’s mind, an alarm. He looked around and noticed a lot of new improvements to Sergei’s space. The room was now lined with grey brick, and all the carpeting had been removed. “What
I
am going to do is try out a new toy,” Sergei had continued with a grin.

Dimitri’s instincts kicked in and he backed away from the desk. He saw Sergei’s hand move to the
left and slide under the rim. Dimitri heard an almost imperceptible click and time stopped for him.

In slow motion he saw a
clear liquid shoot out of the front of the desk. Sergei, that fucking bastard, had gone to the South Africans. The two of them had seen this technology two years ago during an alliance meeting with the free members of the Number Gang. Sergei had joked about it, but Dimitri never imagined he would have ordered it.

He smelled gasoline and continued backwards, for a moment he thought he would make it until he felt the heel of his foot catch under the arm of the first guard. He fell backwards and rolled onto his right side as the flames hit. They ignited the gas that covered his body and he was a human torch in less than a second. He rolled to his right,
trying to extinguish the fire and stop the excruciating pain. Every nerve ending cried out for relief, he felt like a rabid dog, willing to rip apart anything in his way for two seconds in a cold lake. His mind went on fast forward while his body went in reverse. He felt as though he had exited his body and was watching himself thrash around on the floor, screaming in inhuman agony.

The smell brought him back. The bitter, acrid scent of burnt meat and
frying steak. His stomach heaved and he vomited, spewed the contents of his stomach across the floor and rolled through it. At last his liquidy vomit coated his flaming flesh and helped put out the fire. He groaned and felt his face; relief flooded him as he felt normal skin, unmarred and perfect. As his hand groped the rest of his head, he felt shards of pain shoot through him. The left side was cooked meat; he could feel the outer layer hanging off and papery shreds of skin stuck to his fingers as he pulled away.

Sergei was laughing, a deep throated chuckle as he walked around the desk. “Not as effective as I’d hoped, but entertaining nonetheless,” he said and kicked Dimitri in the ribs. “I had hoped you’d burn to death in front of me, but your own filth saved your life. Ironic, isn’t it? Your filthy nature has been saving your life since the day I met you.”

Dimitri tried to respond, but only a hoarse croak emerged from his damaged windpipe.

“Don’t worry, old friend. Nothing you could say would make it right,” Sergei spat. “I should have known you would betray me from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ll send somebody to finish the jo
b, I do believe it’s time for Iryna’s cake.” He laid one last kick into Dimitri’s ruined face, paused to scrape the skin off on the dead guard nearby, and left the building.

Dimitri had only cried once in his adult life, at his mother’s funeral. He hadn’t seen her for years before
her boyfriend pounded her into a pulp, one she finally couldn’t recover from. Dimitri had gone to the funeral, stood in the back and mourned from a distance. Tears had leaked from his eyes that time, flowing down his cheeks under his sunglasses. His mother’s boyfriend had been there, caught his eye and jumped in fear at the muscular man watching him pass. Dimitri was no longer the scrawny boy he could push around when Dimitri came home for a few days relief from his life on the streets of Moscow. Dimitri was a full foot taller than the boyfriend now, and at least a hundred pounds of solid muscle heavier.

Not that it made any difference. He had gone back and put a bullet in
the head of the boyfriend that beat his mother to death. He had tortured the man a little beforehand, and had saved a few family photos on his way out. He hadn’t cried again after that.

Until that moment.
Dimitri had howled and clawed at his face to ease the pressure. His eyeballs felt too big for his skull and he thought of nothing other than pulling them out. Luckily his body protected against his determined rage and he was unable to open them long enough to gouge them out. He rolled again, feeling some of his skin and melted clothing stick to the floor. Somehow he was able to pull himself up and used his powers of concentration to shut the pain down. He knew he was going into shock, which helped dull the stabbing sensations of the burns, but a lesser person never would have made it out alive.

He had some memories of the time shortly af
ter he escaped Sergei's trap. He had stumbled through the woods, flesh and clothing hanging in ragged strips off his body. His driver had parked a little distance away from the other cars and was napping when Dimitri found him. In the distance he could hear the crowd singing happy birthday to little Iryna, all eyes would be on the oversized cake and juggling acrobats, leaving him to escape unnoticed.

He limped and lurched to the driver’s door and hit it with a thump as he fell to the gravel. The driver had panicked, leapt out and dragged his raw body into the spacious back seat. To this day Dimitri swore he could still feel a pebble under one of the scars on his ribcage. His doctor and physiotherapist said he was imagining things
, but at night he would lie in bed and run his finger over it as a form of relaxation.

The driver had called his concierge while they were speeding bac
k into Moscow. Dimitri remembered nothing more than the flashing of the streetlights and the sound of his groans and howls. The concierge had met them on the street in front of Dimitri’s building and climbed into the backseat carrying a medical pack and a suitcase, still packed from Dimitri’s trip.

The concierge was a smart man, he could tell immediately that this was no accident. He also knew that once Sergei discovered he had failed in assassinating Dimitri, he would begin the hunt anew. Hospitals, public and private, were out of the question. He had the driver take them to the private airstrip, had hired a medical transport helicopter complete with its own medical team, and flown him to Geghard Monastery in Armenia. Sergei would never have thought to look for them there, it was known as a tourist
attraction, which disguised its true function as a centre of healing.

While they were there, and once Dimitri was able to croak out a few sentences, they had decided Russia was no longer safe for him. Sergei was a wanted criminal in Canada, so Vancouver had become the destination. The concierge had arranged the purchase of the penthouse and ran every design past him so when Dimitri was ready to travel, it was waiting for him.

Three years ago. In that time Dimitri had healed himself at a snail’s pace. He had slowly recovered and regained sight in both of his eyes. His voice was still deep, he spoke with a hoarse baritone, but the whores he paid seemed to respond to it more than ever. He had learned a lot about managing his assets and investments, and compiled hundreds of pages about his former mentor, Sergei. He would get his revenge at some point. It was worth waiting for. Sergei had many vulnerable spots; it was just a matter of deciding which one would hurt the most when hit.

“Fucking shit fuck,” she swore as she stubbed her toe on the edge of the coffee table.

“You can’t say that,” her little sister Eden exclaimed.

Columbia turned towards her and hissed, “I can say what the
fuck I want, I’m almost twenty for fucks sake.”

“You mean you can say what you want when Dad’s not here,” Eden replied and screwed up her face to mock Columbia. At twelve, Eden was a spitfire. Columbia was irritated by the younger girl’s behaviour but had nobody to blame but herself. She had cultivated Eden’s fiery nature over the years, ensuring her little sister would become her polar opposite. Grow as
she aged, where Columbia seemed to shrink into herself as she got older.

“Whatever, have you done your homework?”

“Uh yeah, like hours ago.”

“Hours? It’s only four o’clock. Nice try, now shut this shit off and get to your room. I have to make dinner before Dad gets home.”

“Where’s Mom?” Eden asked as she clicked the television off. She knew better than to have it on when their father arrived from work.

“She’s pulling a double at the diner,” Columbia said and Eden scurried up to her room taking her backpack with her. The truth was, she didn't know where their mother was. She might be working, but wasn’t there when Columbia had stopped in on her way home from a meeting with her employment
counselor. She had a get together with the Community Protection League tonight and had wanted to let her know she’d be dropping Eden at a friend’s for the night so don’t worry while she was out of the house.

She didn't know why she still bothered with the League
. It was a small group of people dedicated to bitching about every single project the City was planning within the limits of Vancouver. All under the guise of being concerned with the environment of course. The only reason she’d joined up last year was to spend time with Stuart, but he had hooked up with Debbie from their Advanced Algebra class, so she knew she didn’t stand a chance. She must be a masochist, she showed up and watched them make out every single fucking meeting and it hurt now just as much as the first time she found out.

Debbie was such a bitch. She was in some Biology scholarship program at the University of BC and thought she was the shit. Compared to Columbia’s life, she supposed that was true. Columbia still didn’t know what she wanted to do. She didn’t work, didn’t have plans for education and had basically drifted since graduation two years ago. Today’s meeting with the
counselor had been unproductive. Apparently Columbia lacked an aptitude for any damn thing.

She stuck around home for Eden mostly. Otherwise she might have even hitched out to Ontario or down the US to find a job. Eden needed her though, a girl her age shouldn’t be on her own in this house. It wasn’t safe.

She started to prepare dinner, lost in her thoughts. Her father liked “man food”, as he called it. No rabbit food...so that left a pretty limited menu. Rice, grains, fresh veggies, those were all out of the range of acceptance for him. She scanned the near-bare cupboards and decided on boiled potatoes, canned green beans and fried pork chops. The chops were heavily discounted from the grocery up the street and needed to be eaten immediately. They had the telltale greenish tinge around the edges that indicated meat was a few seconds from spoilage.

The chops in the frying pan, the potatoes boiling and the beans in a bowl in the microwave, Colombia had a moment alone to think about tonight’s meeting. She always had some mad idea in the back of her head that something she did would win Stuart’s admiration. This would lead to him dumping Debbie and declaring his love for Columbia.

What did it even matter though? She didn’t even know if she liked him in that way, and if he ever got a look at her naked body, he’d run for the hills anyways.

She got up, flipped the chops and checked the clock o
n the wall. Almost five, her father would be walking through the door any moment. She set the table, called Eden and they waited for him, hands folded in their laps how he liked it.

“When is mom coming home?” Eden asked, picking at the peeling surface of the arborite table.

Columbia smacked her hand and said, “I don’t know. Don’t worry; I’m taking you to Kate’s tonight. You can spend the night and go to school with her in the morning.”

Eden visibly relaxed and smiled, “Ok, cool...that will be fun.”

“It’s a school night, this doesn’t mean you get to fuck around and stay up past midnight. I want you in bed and sleeping by nine.”

Eden rolled her eyes and said, “Yes, Dad,” in a sarcastic tone.

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” Columbia whispered, “I’m nothing like him, I could never be like him.”

Eden looked down, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I won’t say it again.”

But she would. Eden always used that insult to hurt Columbia; she knew it was the lowest thing she could sling at her sister to get the quickest response.

Just before six
they clued in that he wasn’t coming home. They ate their dinner in silence, stopping at every noise outside, not wanting to get caught having their meal without him. Columbia packed up his dinner and left him a note instructing him on heating it, and letting him know she’d be late. The meeting started at eight and was located in an abandoned warehouse near the Olympic Village, but she still had to head out in the other direction to drop Eden at Kate’s house. She would have to hurry and avoid any small talk with Kate’s mom if she wanted to make it there on time.

She
taped the note to her father on the fridge, dreading his reaction when he got home, but pleased she wouldn’t be there to see it. She hoped she hadn’t just thrown her mom under the bus, but needed to get away while she could.

As the reached the end of the block she turned and saw a dark figure standing at the end of their walkway in front of the house.

“Isn’t that Dad?” Eden said in a hushed tone.

“I don’t think so,” Columbia lied, “hurry up, let’s go.” The girls turned to catch the bus and Columbia shivered. She had a lump in her throat and
imagined she could hear her father’s roar of anger as he read her note. It was going to be rough when she got home tonight, she would do best to stay out as long as possible.

*****

“That’s the daftest fucking plan I’ve heard yet, how do a bunch of old hippies naked on Wreck Beach help our community?” a voice complained behind Columbia. She turned in her seat to find the source. An older woman at the back of the room had her hand up.

“This isn’t a protest, Shelly. It’s just a group outing, a social event,” Stuart told the woman. “The day after tomorrow we’re going to barbeque on the beach, whoever wants to make it. It will be fun
. Besides, Wreck is always clothing optional, you don’t have to get naked.”

“
Well, I don’t know if I want to go, that’s all I needed to say, “ Shelly finished with a harrumph and sat down. Columbia knew she wouldn’t attend. As much as she’d like to check out Stuart’s body, it would be pretty obvious if she kept her long sleeves and pants on the entire time. She didn’t need to field questions from the group about her attire.

“Other than that, we’re good with the way things are going. I don’t know where Edward is, so tomorrow’s plan looks like it’s going to be derailed,” Stuart continued.

“Oh my
God
, are you kidding me?” Debbie interjected, “I spent days setting it all up. It was going to be
epic
. Dammit Stu, why didn’t you tell me?”

Stuart blushed and looked awkwardly into the crowd as if searching for assistance in dealing with his difficult girlfriend. He was dating way out of his league and he knew it. Debbie had nothing to do with him in high school, but two years later
, now that he was studying architecture and wrote a popular blog on the greening of Vancouver, she was all over him like he was the hottest commodity in town. “I knew nothing about it until tonight,” he told her. “Edward apparently took a job at a nightclub in Seattle, so what are we supposed to do?”

Columbia looked at her phone;
it was almost midnight. The problem with working with hipsters and hippies was that things always dragged on forever. Everybody felt like they had to have their say, even if they had nothing to add. Nobody in school ever mentioned how fucking boring the democratic process could be. She didn’t mind so much tonight though. “What was the plan?” she asked, hoping to stall a little longer. Her father would still be awake, drinking and watching the late night news followed by Letterman. Even worse, he might be passed out in her bed, waiting for her to come home.

Stuart looked relieved at her question. “You missed the meeting
where we went over this. Basically we have secured a food cart for somebody to ride tomorrow afternoon. Edward was supposed to get into Jarrod Jacob’s penthouse and confront him. He was going to wait in the kitchen until nightfall when we’re told all the staff have left for the day. He wanted to get right into the heart of the dragon and demand some answers about the project in your neighbourhood.”

“I was the one who set it all up,” Debbie added with a smug grin. “It fucking sucks that Stu ruined it though.” She blew her bangs up in an exaggerated puff of frustrated breath. She looked like a slutty whale. Thar she blows.

Columbia thought about her father back home, she didn’t know if her Mom would be there at all tomorrow. He might decide to take the day off work in order to deal with her insubordination, nothing angered her father like the thought she might have a life of her own. She blurted, “‘I can do it,” and immediately regretted her decision when Debbie squealed and clapped her hands together like a seal.

“Awe! Some!” Debbie said to her. “I knew you were a wicked chick. Now let’s go over the plans.”

Columbia looked up at Stuart who was still standing at the front with the mic in his hand. He smiled at her; his face was beaming his approval. She thought about the one time he had kissed her after seeing Lord of the Rings in grade ten. That had been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her, but she had pushed him away as soon as she realized what had happened. She constantly wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t reacted that way.

She grimaced as Debbie skipped up to the front and planted a wet kiss on his lips. He was tall and gangly, over six feet, so he had to bend to reach Debbie’s lips. For half a second he looked to Columbia like one of those bobbing glass birds dipping eternally into a water glass. Columbia smiled to herself and shook off the image.

“What are you laughing about?” Stuart asked and gestured for her to join them at a long fold out table.

“Nothing much,” Columbia told him and walked towards the
lovebirds. “Just thinking about the look on the guy’s face when I jump out to talk to him.”

They laughed and the group crowded around her, excitedly explaining what she was going to do.