Flutter (16 page)

“We have to go!”

“No shit! Can you run?”

“Hell yeah!”

“RUN!” Roger insisted. Abigail and Roger began to run. “Wait, wait, wait.” Roger went back to where the chunk of Abigail’s hair was. He found it next to her hooded shirt. He scooped up as much as he could, grabbed Abigail’s hoodie; and they took off. “Let’s go.” Roger and Abigail ran toward the street and disappeared around the corner.

Early morning at about quarter past three, the sun had not yet risen. Finch crept out of Brown’s apartment while he was asleep. He didn’t notice. She had quickly slipped on her clothes, gotten into her car and left to go home.

Finch walked into her house, sat on the couch and took off her shoes. She played with the engagement ring on her finger. Her eyes watered. She got up from the couch and left the living room. She went into the bathroom and washed the tears and make up from her face. She went back into her room, changed her clothes and lay in the bed. No sooner had she closed her eyes to get in a couple hours of sleep then she snapped her body up straight. She knew she had heard something or someone. She tip toed out of the bed and grabbed her pistol off the dresser top. She checked to make sure it was fully loaded. She cocked the trigger back.

Finch walked quietly through the house with her gun raised. She peeked around each corner as she stepped through to the front door. She checked the door. It was locked. She walked through the house to the back door. It, too, was locked. She looked to see if any windows were open, but nothing was abnormal. She could sense someone was in the house but could not find anyone. She was frustrated. Fear grew in her heart. She prayed this wasn’t one of Pearson’s goons coming to get her after a long silence. She went back into her room and upon entering, she opened her mouth wide and dropped the gun on the floor.

She asked, “Why are you doing this to me?” She cried, placing her hand on her forehead.

At about 3:30 am Abigail and Roger arrived at the bar. They entered through the back door in the alley. She and Roger were both bruised and covered in blood, both theirs and their assailants. Abigail and Roger tiptoed into the kitchen and grabbed a black bag. She ran hot water in the sink. Roger was shaken up. Abigail was strangely calm.
She had done this before.
When Roger had first met Abigail, she was cold and hard. In the past few months she had softened up, becoming more personable and less introverted. That cold stranger was back looking at Roger the way she used to, like he was an empty, meaningless shell.

She went into the closet and grabbed a bottle of bleach. 

She demanded, “Take off your shoes.”

Roger complied fearfully. She looked at Roger without an ounce of sympathy. He was distraught but yet again holding on very well. He was in shock. She plugged up the sink so that the water would collect. The two of them stood in their underwear, covering up the mess they had created.

“Get a mop,” she ordered again.

Roger grabbed the mop without hesitation, totally trusting in Abigail’s direction. He thought,
Maybe the SUPER BEAST will return if I refuse.
He didn’t know what else to say or do, so he complied without objection. 

Abigail dropped the mop into the bleach water and soaked it again and again– not sparing an ounce of bleach. She told Roger to mop the floor from the door into the kitchen. He did as he was told. He brought the mop back. She rinsed it in the bleach again and told him to do it again. He did this three times. In the meantime, Abigail dropped their clothes into the water to soak. She finally let the mop and the clothes sit in the bleach water– the color of their clothes faded before their eyes.

Next, Abigail took the shoes and grabbed a lighter and a butter knife. She lit the gas burner and heated up the knife. Roger was totally mystified.

“We are not keeping these clothes. It would be best to burn them, but we will draw too much attention. We will split them up and discard them in the morning,” she told Roger.

She then took the heated knife and made marks in the bottom of their sneakers by melting parts of the rubber soles. “Police look for distinct wear and tear marks in shoes that match prints left at crime scenes. I’m going to change these up a little. Go shower.”

Roger didn’t hesitate a second. He went upstairs, showered and went into her room. He sat on the edge of the bed until she came in from her turn taking a shower. He expected the next list of demands would follow except that the confident, demanding, controlling, deadly Abigail had turned soft again. She looked worn out and drained of energy.
What have I done?

In her underwear and socks, she climbed into her bed shivering. Her head was pounding so badly, she couldn’t completely open her eyes. Roger sat down next to Abigail and tucked her in. He rubbed her back, her arms and gently touched her hair, comforting her. She closed her eyes. He grabbed a pillow and a foot blanket to lie on the floor. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her to lie with her in the bed. Roger climbed into the bed. He moved cautiously, sliding under the covers. He lay next to her, pressing his body against hers.

In bed Abigail innocently wrapped her body around his to get warmer. She threw her arms around his neck and mixed her legs in with his. She didn’t mean to tease Roger or entice him; she needed to be held to relax her racing heart. He put his arms around her torso, pressing his hands against her back. He rested the side of his face against hers and squeezed her closer. He rolled on his back and put her head on his chest as he pulled her closer. She fell asleep to his rhythmic heart beat, which raced for another 15 minutes before it slowed to normal pace. He fell asleep 20 minutes after she did.

The night brought about a hurricane of memories, thoughts, pain and emotions. Abigail’s strength had also returned after months of dormancy. She felt a painful jolt rush through her body. Her veins bulged as if they were being pumped with adrenaline and some type of super stimulus, causing heightened senses and awareness. She woke and jumped out of the bed. Her eyes were glowing blue. She wanted to scream from the burning sensation running through her body. Her skin crawled. At first she wasn’t sure if this was another nightmare. She soon realized she was not dreaming when she saw Roger shift in the bed. Roger was so tired that he didn’t awake in the presence of her animalistic fit.

Abigail ran down stairs to the bar, out the back door and into the alley. She needed air. She grabbed at her throat, her face and scratched the brick wall outside. Bursts of pain and heat throbbed in her body. She gritted her teeth as her canine teeth slightly extended. Her body rapidly shook and trembled as her muscles bulged. She clenched her fists. She was overloaded with energy and couldn’t control or release it. She threw her body against the wall and sucked in the cool air as she grabbed her head. Her eyes glowed blue. She looked up and immediately gripped her claws into the brick wall and climbed to the top of the building next door.

Thunder cracked against the black sky. She stood their grunting, breathing intensely, until she calmed down. She was still full of energy, but she and whatever was within negotiated an agreement, and she was at peace. She climbed back down and exhaled. Her eyes turned brown again. Just as she entered the side door, the first drop of rain came down crashing against her heel.

She went back into her room and slipped into the bed with Roger again, turning her back to him, falling asleep within minutes. Her heart raced for a few minutes, beating against her chest. She slept nightmare free for the first time in months. The rain came down hard and fast, just in time to wash away a significant amount of evidence at the crime scene. It came quickly and stopped after 20 minutes of pounding against the earth.

The sweet scent of morning after a night of rain filled the room. The sun streamed through the window as it did every morning. Abigail slept like a baby after her secret late night rage in the alley and on the rooftop. She woke up and was slightly startled when she saw Roger sitting in a chair across from her, watching her sleep. He wore a shirt and shorts. He had taken another shower and returned to the room to watch her sleep.

She grabbed her head, aware of the raging headache that continued from the previous night. “Good morning, Roger.” She reached through her hair and remembered that a large section of it was cut off the night before.

Roger was frustrated, “We need to talk.” It was the first time he had ever expressed his frustration with Abigail.

She attempted to deflect, “UGH. My head hurts so badly. I need a coffee.”

Roger insisted that they speak and raised his voice, “Can we talk about what the hell happened last night?” He was upset for more than one reason. Besides the situation in the alley, his involvement in the killings and the release of the
SUPER BEAST
, his emotions and feelings were all over the place. He knew that Abigail must have been traumatized after the transformation. He watched her tremble and shake herself to sleep, but it took every bone in his body to resist the urge to sleep with her that night. He
and
his penis had a bone to pick with Abigail.

Abigail knew this was a huge burden for Roger yet replied, “I can’t talk about it right now.” She got out of the bed.

Roger stood up and grabbed her arm, “Do you even remember? Do you remember
anything
from last night?”

She ignored the question.

“What the hell was that!? You turned into an ‘I don’t know what that was’ thing, then you ripped those men to pieces like they were made of putty, then…”

Abigail spoke softly, putting her finger over her mouth, reminding Roger that Frankie was in his room. “Okay. Okay. Yes I remember… a lot more than you think– a lot more than I want to remember and it’s too much to talk about right now. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I don’t want to involve you in any of this. I couldn’t control it. It just happened, but it helped me remember a few things.”

“Wait. Did all of your memory come back?”

“Not all of it. There are a few gaps I need to fill in but I can’t do it here.”

Roger’s curiosity outweighed his anger, “Well, what do you remember?”

Abigail thought for a minute before she answered, “I can’t talk about it. I have to get out of here. I’m putting you, Larry and Frankie in danger.”

“How are we in danger?”

She didn’t want to scare him, but after last night, Roger was worthy of the truth, “Roger, there are others… others like me. They’re out there looking for me. They’re the ones I came here to avoid. They shot me. I remember now, and I have to go. I should be in hiding and here I am living out in the open. They are close. I can sense it.” She left the room, and Roger followed her. Abigail entered the bathroom with Roger following her.

With a concerned voice he said, “Talk to me.”

Frankie heard the arguing and was curious to see if the two were okay. He noticed Roger spent the night and wondered if they had been sleeping together all along.
Maybe this is a lover’s quarrel.
Then he noticed cuts and bruises on their bodies. Frankie asked, “What happened to you guys?”

They both stared at Frankie offering no answer. Frankie inspected them. Each second that passed, Frankie’s anger increased exponentially. He belted out in a voice neither Abigail nor Roger had ever heard. Frankie had almost forgotten he had it in him. “What the hell happened?!”

Roger was terrified so he answered, “We got jumped. It was my fault.”

Frankie moved over to Abigail as she inspected her chopped hair and busted lip in the bathroom mirror. 

Frankie was concerned like a father, “Are you okay Abby? Come, let me see.” He reached out his hand to touch her. 

She pulled away and said, “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Fine? You two look like shit! What happened, Roger?”

Roger knew Frankie would never understand if he tried to explain everything in detail, so he summarized. “We cut through an alley and some thugs jumped us. They held me down and threatened to rape her. They beat us up a bit, took our money…”

Frankie immediately picked up his phone to contact Larry, unaware that Larry would have used this as a “told you so moment.” 

Frankie said, “Tell me who. I’ll take care of it.”

Roger didn’t want to lie and knew Frankie’s help was necessary, but the trouble they were in was a lot more than Frankie knew. Roger said, “Frankie, it’s more complicated than that. We’re in some serious trouble.”

Frankie asked, “What do you mean?”

Roger replied, “They were kicking our asses. This guy punched her in the stomach and…”

Abigail interrupted Roger, “Roger!” She gave him a vicious stare. She wanted him to keep quiet. It was better not to involve Frankie.

Roger cut the story short, “We… We got away.”

Frankie was dissatisfied with the abbreviated story, “You just got away huh? Yeah right. Move, Roger.” He pushed Roger aside and decided to try again with Abigail. “Abby, just tell me who it was. I’ll take care of it. What did they look like? Where did this happen? Give me some details. I’ll make some calls and take care of it. You have to tell me.”

Abigail answered, “I don’t know. We don’t know who they were. It was dark. You shouldn’t get involved.”

Frankie backed away in frustration. He shook his head. Abigail and Roger stood looking around with guilt. Frankie paced back and forth. He thought about calling Larry but decided against it in his effort to respect Abigail’s privacy concerning attempted rape.
These matters are sensitive for women. Maybe this is why she is being shy.
His gut told him that something else was up and just wanted them to ask for help, but he knew he couldn’t force the issue. He finally asked, “Okay. Does this have anything to do with what’s been all over the news this morning?”

Roger asked, “What? What’s been on the news?” He looked at Abigail nervously.

Frankie reached over turning on the 20 inch TV in the room. He clicked through the channels until he found the local news station. Samantha Callahan once again reported, “…between the two buildings. This is a gruesome scene. Three men were decapitated and one man’s neck was broken. The remains are spread all over the area. The police say they are collecting DNA, but as you know, back alleys are subject to a lot of night traffic, violence and loitering. There’s going to be tons of DNA out here that officers will have to sift through. Currently, they have no suspects but…”