Monochrome (15 page)

He glared at Ishmael. “Think hard, man. I know you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself, but try to remember. It was an expensive day.”

Ishmael’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Your little girl’s first word.”

Geoff nodded. “What was that, by the way? I can’t remember for some reason.”

Ishmael barely breathed the word. He whispered. “Dada.”

Abigail fumbled with the knot at her wrists and felt it give a little.

Geoff scoffed at Ishmael. “Oh, was that difficult for you to remember? So sorry. Can you remember the way my girl looked when she said it? How it made me feel? Because I can’t.”

Geoff’s expression was now a mixture of anger, pain and triumph over Ishmael’s defeat. Abigail pulled at the loosened section of bandana and felt blood returning to her wrists. She wriggled them out of the now loosened bandana. Pins and needles prodded her fingers. She opened and closed them several times, to shoo the pain away.

She reached behind Ishmael and felt him jump a little at her touch, but he understood what she was attempting and didn’t glance her way. Instead, his watery eyes were locked on Geoff’s.

Ishmael cleared his throat and spoke in a fervent appeal. “Geoff, if I could take back how I acted, I would. I know you know how it feels now, to think you may have to give up the remainder of your last good memories. Please accept my apology. I’m sorry. I didn’t have any currency to help pay, and I didn’t want to give more.”

It was plain to see Ishmael meant what he said. His voice was heavy with grief and the knowledge he did something terrible to the man in front of him for his own preservation.

Geoff’s face softened for a moment, but Eric, sick of listening, cut in. “Don’t let him get to you, Geoff. This guy has led a lot of people to desperation. He’s good at pretending sorry. It’s sort of his job—to get his Lead to trust him, and to screw them over. He’s had a lot of practice fucking up people’s lives.”

Eric nudged Abigail with his foot. “You’d be wise to hear what I’m saying, beautiful.”

Abigail worked to untie Ishmael’s bonds with her freed right hand, but responded to Eric. “I’ll take my chances.” Ishmael gripped the fingers of her right hand in appreciation. She continued to untie his knot, her heart beating arrhythmically.

Eric knelt by Geoff. “I’m the one who helped you, man. I’m the one who sat up with you that night and listened.”

Geoff patted Eric on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I know.”

Eric gestured to Ishmael. “So take it back, Geoff. You deserve it.” Geoff watched Ishmael again, this time with steel in his gaze. “I gave up a yellow memory for you, Ishmael. I’m gonna need a gold to call it even.”

Ishmael’s eyes grew wide. “A gold isn’t a fair trade. What are you, a Roamer?”

Geoff shrugged. “Interest. And I need one from both of you.”

Ishmael shook his head. “Two yellows. From me. Abby isn’t a part of this.”

“I’m not negotiating, Ishmael, and she is very much a part of this. You see, I’m a little jealous of how you treat her. You never treated me so good.”

Abigail’s hands shook. She knew she didn’t want to have to give a gold memory, the lesser memories were taking enough of a toll on her. She also knew Ishmael’s great memories were even fewer. She worked to loosen the knot on his wrist, and almost forgot herself when she felt the fabric grow limp around his hands. She grinned at Ishmael, who never took his eyes from Geoff’s.

But Eric caught the grin. “Now what reason do you have to smile, beautiful?” He asked, kneeling in front of her.

Abigail grinned again. “Come closer and I’ll tell you.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Abigail shrugged, pretending her hands were still tied. “Come closer and you’ll find out.”

Eric placed his hands on her thighs, uncomfortably high, assuming she was going to kick him, and leaned in close to her face. “Well, are you?”

She quickly brought her hands from behind her and smacked her palms with all her strength against his ears. He cried out and fell back, clutching his head. Ishmael was paying close attention to her movements and took advantage of the surprise to launch himself at Geoff, who was caught gawking at Abigail and Eric.

She stood and prepared herself for Eric to recover while Ishmael was busy fending off Geoff. Eric quickly collected himself. He stood, unsteadily, and pulled his knife out of his pocket. He rushed at her, with the knife open and held out.

She stood her ground and waited until the last minute, then moved quickly aside. He brushed her arm as he ran past her, and she pushed his knife arm away from her. He twisted and was thrown off balance, losing his knife.

Abigail heard Geoff and Ishmael struggle behind her, but knew she must focus on Eric if they were to get out of this. Eric grunted and rolled over. His head was bloody from hitting it on the rocky ground when he landed. His knife was a foot from his body; he grasped for it in vain. She was ready, and kicked it away from his hand. She bent down, picked up the knife and pointed it at the still-disoriented man. “Don’t move.”

He put his hands in the air. She closed the knife and put it in her pocket. He scoffed, amused at her unwillingness to use it, and made to stand. Abigail spun on her right foot and kicked him in the head with her left. His body went limp as the kick made contact, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Someone grabbed Abigail’s shoulder from behind. She grabbed the person’s arm, thinking Geoff got the better of Ishmael. Then bent over, ready to fling him to the ground. “Abby, don’t!” Ishmael called out. She let go of his arm and apologized.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t sneak up on a ninja.”

She shook her head in relief and laughed, embarrassed. “Now you know.”

He motioned to the tree, where Geoff lay bleeding from his nose, doubled over in pain. Ishmael went over to Eric and checked his pulse. Abigail put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t kill him!”

Ishmael raised his hands in defense. “Just checking.”

He stood. “Where the hell did you learn to fight? I am, quite honestly, afraid of you right now.”

She shrugged. “I’ve never been a fan of low-impact workouts. As you’ve probably discerned, I have a temper. Martial Arts and kick-boxing help me keep it under control. Not pansy-dance kick-boxing crap, either. The real thing. I started doing MMA a few years before I got pregnant. I’m a little rusty now.”

Ishmael walked towards Geoff. “I don’t want to see you when you’re not rusty, then.”

Abigail shook her head, weary. “What are we going to do about these two?” She gestured to the struggling Geoff and the unconscious Eric.

“I think they deserve to be tied to the trees here and left until someone decides to come this way, which doesn’t happen very often,” Ishmael answered.

She shook her head. “Let’s just go. Tie Geoff’s hands. We’ll get a good head start and leave them behind.”

He shook his head. “They won’t give up, Abby. They’ll just find us again. We have to do something more than just leave them here to follow us again.”

She walked over to Geoff, and got to work tying his hands.

“We’ll find you no matter where you go. We’ll…”

She put a finger to his mouth. “Shush.” Geoff, to her surprise, listened. “Ishmael wants to leave you both tied up here, gagged for God knows how long. He feels like it’s a fair trade for how you treated us.”

Geoff’s fear was apparent. “But I hear the woods are bad to be in at night, and I don’t feel like having you on my conscience.” Geoff’s face lightened.

Abigail continued, “So, what do you think we should do?”

Ishmael slapped the sides of his legs in exasperation. “You’re asking the man who tried to force one of your best memories from you?”

Abigail held up a hand to silence him. Geoff’s voice quivered, “Okay. We won’t follow you.”

“I don’t believe you, but I won’t leave you for dead either.” She knew this man was being fed on anger and revenge and anything she or Ishmael did to keep him from them was sure to make him more determined. She wasn’t sure if what she did next would change his mind, but she couldn’t think of anything better.

“Have you ever been to the ocean, Geoff?”

He seemed confused but he answered, “No. I’m from Nebraska. Never left the state except to go to Iowa a couple times.”

Abigail nodded. “I thought you might be Midwestern. I can spot my own kind.”

She faced Ishmael. “Make sure Eric doesn’t wake up.”

She heard Ishmael walking towards Eric. “What are you doing, Abby?” She didn’t answer. She leaned down next to Geoff, whose expression was baffled. She closed her eyes and concentrated:

She sat on a beach and dug her toes into the sun-warmed sand. If she dug them in deep enough, she’d reach the damp sand below, where the sandcastle sand hid. It wasn’t far down, since the tide was always fairly high here.

She lifted her head to the sun and felt it penetrate her skin and warm her hair. The temperature was cool, a breeze from over the ocean filled her nostrils with the scent of salt, driftwood, and that unnamable fishy odor so many people hated, but she couldn’t get enough of.

She opened her eyes and was met with the beauty of the ocean tide rolling in. Spray was carried on the wind and into her upturned face. The waves were monstrous far back in the ocean, but by the time they reached where she was seated on the shore, they were just large enough to reach her buried toes. She knew she needed to move back from the water soon, to keep her book and blanket from getting wet, but she wanted to hold off and tease the waves a little bit longer.

She watched as the next waves rolled in and the water, shells and seaweed tickled her toes. Her feet were covered in grainy ocean foam, and were chilled from the cold Pacific water. The sound of the waves pushing against each other calmed her, the sun warmed her, the water cooled her feet and the feel of sand between her toes and fingers made her feel powerful. This is why I moved back. Abigail thought. She heard a deep voice call to her…

She opened her eyes. No, that voice was why she moved back to Washington. The rest of the memory was hers. Her brain contained many ocean memories, but this one was strong because it came after a ten-year absence from the ocean. The man calling to her was her dad. She’d just moved back to Washington to go to college and spend some time with him, and that day on the beach she and her dad laid out a picnic, collected shells and talked about life and their future, among other things.

She learned so much about the man she barely knew that day. Everything she learned made her feel that biology must play a big role in personality. She’d never been around someone who seemed to get her so completely. The way he crinkled his eyes when he thought, his nose scrunching up as if the air smelled terribly—it was like looking in a mirror. And
how
he thought, the things he loved—reading, history, politics, museums, theory—he shared her passions. She wasn’t the weird one around her dad; she was his little girl, and he was proud of her.

So Abigail concentrated on the first part of the memory, and on the joyful, sleepy feeling the ocean gave her, the sound of waves surging, reaching foamy fingers towards her toes. She lifted her hand to Geoff. His eyes were wide and frightened. She touched him lightly on the head and an ocean-blue memory flowed from her fingertips and into his mind.

Geoff’s eyes went from frightened, to confused, to far off. He was seeing the ocean for the first time. Awe settled upon his face, as he closed his eyes to better see the memory. Abigail made to stand and she stumbled, but Ishmael was behind her already. “Abby, what did you give him?”

She rose, with his help, gripping his hand tighter than necessary, trying not to relish the tension in his arms as he helped her up. “I gave him rest. Let’s move on, shall we?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “That was a blue memory. A blue memory is too much…”

She squeezed his hand before dropping it. “I have others and, when I get home, I’ll make more. Besides, it’s less than they wanted, for sure. Let’s go before they wake up.”

She put her arm around Ishmael’s shoulder, when he offered her help. She was pretty tired from giving the memory and from the fight, but for the first time she wasn’t sad from having given one away. Seeing the peaceful expression on Geoff’s face made her feel very good about having done so.

It gave her a joyful heart. Hopefully it made a difference. She often found a surprising act of kindness worked better than an act of bitterness fed by anger. Either way, it was the best she felt since getting to Monochrome, so she couldn’t regret doing it.

As tired as Abigail was, she allowed Ishmael to lead her onward. They walked in silence for a short time after leaving Eric and Geoff. Ishmael cleared his throat.

“What is it?”

He kicked sharp rocks sheepishly. “I want you to forgive me and trust me again. I know it may be asking too much after lying to you and then getting you in the middle of this thing with Geoff.”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

He frowned. “I don’t want that to be the reason you choose to stay with me. Because you have no better option. I don’t want
this
to be the least of two shitty options. When I saw Eric messing with you, I felt like killing them both, Abby. I would’ve left them for dead if you hadn’t stopped me. I know how I feel for you may not affect your opinion of what I do for a living and what I’ve done so far, but I care about you and I want to help you.” He stopped speaking, as if he’d already said too much.

Abigail felt her jaw clench in frustration. “I’m still pretty angry with you, but I guess I can see why you’d be desperate in this place.” She paused. “I probably wouldn’t have made the same choices you have, but I don’t know your story and I’m not in your position. I don’t know why you chose to stay.” She gazed upwards, searching for the source of the silver light, avoiding his eyes, and the answers sitting in their depths.

“I can only assume life must have let you down. I mean, I get the urge to stay; I have it now. It might be easier for those I love if I just disappeared. I don’t want to return to Reality just to ruin the life of my husband and child.”