Pahnyakin Rising (6 page)

“My ankle,” Dresden pleaded.  “I’m hurt and I don’t know what’s going—.”

“Get up, or I will make you get up,” the slender woman threatened.  Her yellow sweatshirt was splattered with dried blood and dirt and her black bleach-stained jeans were ripped in several places up and down both legs.

The teenager nodded and grunted as she stood.  It was then that she could see she was surrounded.  There was someone on each side of her, to the front and back and close to each arm.  The woman in front of the girl continued to shine the floodlight at her face and two men to her sides moved forward.  One searched over her body with a light similar to the one the woman had, as another held her at gunpoint with a black pistol.  His olive hands were steady and he was gripping the handle of the firearm so tightly that the color in his knuckles had faded.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear,” Dresden sobbed.  “Please.  I’m hurt.”

The man with the gun leaned in to the woman with the light and whispered in her ear. 

“You ask her,” the woman retorted with a look of fear on her face.  Dresden thought she saw the woman’s tan lower lip tremble.

“Ask me what?  Please, if you could just help me.  I need to call my parents.  They’ll come pick me up, and I swear I won’t tell anyone what happened.  I swear.  Please.”

Her captors whispered among themselves.  She could still not hear everything clearly.

Boldly, the man with the gun stepped towards her.  She whimpered and attempted to take a step back, but she felt a sharp stab against the center of her spine.

“Why have you been gone so long?” he demanded.  “Where did they take you?”

Dresden shook her head in confusion.  “I don’t—.  What?  Where did who take me?  Please, I don’t know what’s happening right now.”  Her teeth chattered.  “I saw a Gaia,” she motioned behind her, “and—.”

“You saw a Gaia?” the man to her left asked as if she were lying.  “Just now?”

“Yes,” she nodded.  She turned her head to look at the man but could only make out dark hair buzzed short to his skin.  “On the bridge.  It started glowing and a few Unies and—.”

The voice behind her spoke and she recognized it immediately.  “There were others?”  He spoke to rest of his people.  “Do you think they’re planning another attack?”

“Dodge?” Dresden’s voice exploded with a mixture of laughter and sobbing. 

A tight grip on her upper right arm spun her around and she cried out.  She stood a few inches under the bearded face of her friend.  This wasn’t possible. 

He opened his mouth to speak but could not find words.  Wrinkles appeared around his eyes—he was more hardened than Dresden knew him to be hours before, and his forehead was bruised.  She reached to touch her fingertips to the blue blemish but he raised a long blade to her throat in the blink of an eye.

“What did they send you to do?” he growled.  “Did they program you?”

She could not stop her tears.  “This is a joke, right?  This is just some kind of elaborate joke.”  She motioned around her and chuckled hysterically with a nod.  “Okay.  It’s kind of funny, you know.  You put a lot of hard work into this, but I’m really hurt and—.”

“WHAT ARE YOU?” asked the bearded man with a thunderous roar.

“I don’t understand.  I’m Dresden.  You know that,” she whispered with wide doe-like eyes.

The man lowered his knife and laughed.  He placed the handle in his left hand and Dresden smiled at the reunion.  But Dodge’s grin turned to a stone expression and he hit her in the face with a hard right uppercut. 

“Dresden’s dead,” the girl heard Dodge mutter as she fell to the ground.  Everything went black again. 

-8-

She shivered and reached for a blanket to warm her exposed skin, but instead her hand slapped at the cold oil-stained concrete floor. 

“Oh,” she grumbled.

Brown water that reeked of raw sewage steadily dripped from the cracked rusty pipe that ran the length of the low brick ceiling and the dirty drops pooled in front of her nose.  She felt a tickle on her leg and twitched, unknowingly knocking a wolf spider half the size of her palm to the ground. 

“She’s awake.  Go get Shepherd.  Now.”

Dresden opened her eyes and touched her left fingertips to her bruised cheek. 

“He sure got you good, huh?” the man laughed.  “Knocked you the hell out.  Man, who’dda thought he’d be the one to do it?”

She blinked several times before she could see her surroundings in focus.  Through thick iron cylinders crudely welded to bolts on the ceiling and floor, she saw a man sitting on the ground with his back against the wall.  Most of his red hair, except for a few loose frizzy strands that poked up from his mop, was pulled into a low limp ponytail that ran halfway down his strong back.  The man had scraggly ginger mutton chops and a mustache that protruded over his thin top lip.  He laughed and stuck the tip of his pink tongue out of the corner of his mouth to twirl a blue steel hoop that wrapped around his lower lip.  Dresden watched as the man retrieved a pocketknife from the kangaroo pocket of his green Me First and the Gimme Gimmes hooded sweatshirt and unfolded the silver blade from the knife’s handle.  He pressed the blade against his left palm and sliced away slivers of callused flesh that drifted to the floor like snowflakes caught in a steady winter breeze.

“Where am I?” Dresden choked.  Her voice was froggy.  She was parched and could barely hear herself speak.  The girl stretched her legs straight and realized she was being held captive wearing only a thin pair of mesh shorts and a racerback tank top.

The man taunted her and placed the side of his right hand to his ear with a laugh.  “What’s that?”

She dryly coughed, hoping the hacking would loosen her vocal cords. 

“Where am I?” she repeated.  She attempted to bring her torso upward, but she collapsed to the floor as soon as she was two inches up.

“I can barely hear you,” he smirked.  “You know what I bet would help that?  A drink.  Are you thirsty?”

Dresden nodded and her right ear scraped against the floor as the man stood and placed the knife back in his pocket.  He walked to a crumbling wooden curio cabinet along the far right of the room.  She could not see what was in it, but she eyed a set of metal stairs that were bordered by a brick wall on either side. 

The man in his late twenties turned to her once again.  “I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” she whispered with a squeak. 

He opened the cabinet and reached inside.  The curio cabinet closed with a slam and he walked to the iron bars with a four-ounce bottle of water in his hand. 

“This would make it all better, huh?”

She nodded.  “Please.”

“You can have it if you come get it.”

Dresden could barely shake her head. 

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” he asked, raising his brows.  “You mean, after
every little thing
you’ve been through, you can’t crawl over here to get a drink?”  The thin man scoffed and scratched the tip of his long, sharp nose.

He smiled and pointed as if he just came up with an idea.  

“You know,” he started, “first you get punched in the face and knocked out cold.  And now, you won’t even
try
to survive. 
You,
of all people.”  His voice became sing-songy and high pitched.  “Something isn’t right with this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she murmured.

“Sure you do.  Come on over here.  Let me have a piece of you for what you did to Lynette.”

“Lynette?”

“You don’t get to say her name,” the man shouted.  His words bounced off the walls and rang in her ears.  “And you sure don’t get to act like you don’t know who she is.  You killed my wife.”

“No,” she cried hoarsely.  Tears streamed down her dirty cheeks.

“You’re crying?” he asked incredulously.  “What did they
do
to you?”

Dresden heard the snap of a bolt latch at the top of the stairs and the screech of a heavy metal door opening.

“I knew her better than anyone,” she heard Dodge shout.  “If you want answers, you send me down.  I can ask her things you don’t know about, to see how far back they went.”

“Dodge,” she tried to scream.  It came out little more than a scratchy yelp.  “Dodge, help.”

“You have no role in the direction of this community anymore,” replied a second male’s voice.  Dresden knew it sounded familiar, but she could not place a name to the voice.  “You may have been a hot shot under her rule, but you’re nothing under mine.”

“If you want answers to your questions, you’re going to have to directly involve me in this and you know it,” Dodge retorted. 

“That is not Dresden.  She’s not the girl you knew.  Even if you could see how much they wiped from her memory, she’s not going to tell you why she’s here, not without a push.”

“You can’t do this.  I’m telling you, there’s a better way.  And what if she’s telling the truth?  You know what, Shepherd?  I think you’re just pissed off because she could be back, and if that’s true, she’s going to boot you out of her spot.  You’re scared that if she’s telling the truth, you’re going to be the one that means nothing around here.”

“If you really thought she was back, you wouldn’t have knocked her out.  And I don’t have anything to fear.  I’ve worked hard to win these people over and I’m not going to let anything-or anyone-get in my way.  Get out of here before I have my people toss you to the Rising.”

The door’s slam echoed and shook the floor on which Dresden was still collapsed.  She was too dehydrated and disoriented to have many thoughts about what was going on around her.  Heavy stomps rattled the black metal stairs as someone descended.  Dresden lifted her glance to see dull brown toes of a pair of leather boots coming down the stairs.  A muscular man with tan biceps that stretched the short sleeves of a baby blue tee shirt and torn tight-fitting jeans with holes up the legs and in the back pockets turned his back to Dresden upon stepping foot in the room. 

“Get out,” he said to the red-haired man.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he argued.  “You’re kicking me out of here after what she did to Lynette?”

“Say one more word to me and you’re going to regret it,” the new visitor threatened.  His dirty blonde hair was cut short and he wore a seashell necklace. 

The first man scoffed.  “You don’t scare me anymore.”  He pointed to Dresden.  “Kill her and I’ll have all I’ve wanted since she took Lynette out there.”

“I don’t scare you anymore, Tim?” asked the man with the hidden face.  He stood eye level to the first man.  Without another word, the second man, obviously in a position of power, reached his left hand upward and ripped the ring from the redhead’s lower lip.

Tim howled and doubled over as his blood dripped down his chin and on the floor. 

“Lyle,” called the second man to the top of the stairs.  “You and Brent get down here now.”

“No,” pleaded Tim.  He fell to his knees and Dresden looked on in horror at the chunk of skin hanging limply from his mouth.  “I won’t make it two days.  Please.”

“Two days?” laughed the standing man.  “You’ll be lucky to make it two
hours
.”

The door at the top of the stairs opened but did not slam.  Two middle-aged men with shaved heads and veins stretching from their ripped skin approached Tim and each one grabbed one of the man’s elbows.  The two men with coppery skin could have been twins. They were short and stocky with inflated muscles to overcompensate for their lack of height.  Tim pleaded for his life in tears, but it did not stop the men from dragging him up the stairs and slamming the door shut once more.

The man in the blue tee shirt wiped blood from his hands to the sides of his jeans and shook his head at the inconvenience.  He clicked his tongue three times before turning to her with a sneer.

“Deadly Dresden,” he snorted.  “Remember when they used to call you that?”

Her heart fluttered and she felt confused.  She could have sworn the room was spinning.

“Nick?”

He looked puzzled and caught off guard.  “Nick?  Nobody’s called me that in over a year.”

“I’m hurt,” she continued.  “Please help me.  I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh my God,” he sighed.  “Your voice is so annoying.”  He approached the cell and picked up the bottle of water from the floor.  Just as he threw the dodge ball at her earlier that day-was it that day?-he drew his arm back and chucked the bottle in her direction.  It landed against her stomach and she groaned.  “Drink that.”

“Thank you.  Thank you so much.”

She reached for the bottle and it took all she had to crack the seal with the twist of her wrist.  Dresden drew the mouth of the bottle to her lips and guzzled the liquid so quickly that she coughed and spit up a pool of water that traveled down the wrong pipe. She gasped and licked her lips. 

“Now,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “let’s talk business.”

“Where am I?”

The strength of her vocal cords was returning.

He crinkled his honey brows.  “You mean, you don’t recognize this place?”  He unfolded his arms and motioned around the room with his hands at each side of his ribs.  “You ordered us to build it.”

She shook her head.  “No.  I didn’t do any of this.”

“I just sent Tim to the Rising, and you’re telling me you don’t remember any of this mess?  You don’t remember Lynette or building these holding cells?”

“No.”

It pained Dresden to push her torso off the floor, but she did so quietly despite the aching in her stiff muscles.  She couldn’t shake her headache or the throbbing in her swollen ankle.  The girl examined her bare feet; her ankle was red and double its normal size.

“Let’s skip this crap,” Nick said in an irritated tone.  “I want to know where they took you and what they programmed you to do.”

“Who?  I don’t what’s going on.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he yelled, slamming his palm against one of the iron bars.  “Are you reporting to them?  Did they send you back to wipe out this community? Tell me your directive order now.”

She shook her head in bewilderment.  “I woke up on the Wotomack Bridge.  I don’t—I don’t have an order.  I just want to go home.  I want my clothes back.”

“We’ve already burned your clothes.  And we’ve scanned you from head to toe.  They didn’t install any ports.  Have they learned a new procedure to bypass operations?”

Dresden rubbed her warm temples in a circular motion with her fingertips. 

“Answer me!”

“What?” she asked.

“How did they program you without a chip or adding ports?”

“Nobody programmed me.  Are you freaking crazy?  That’s not even possible.”

“Don’t tell me it’s not possible when I have seen it with my own eyes.  You’re the one who programmed the scanner.  So don’t tell me it’s not possible.”

She stood and winced at what tremendous pain she felt from placing such little amount of weight on her sprained ankle.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Nick, I woke up on the bridge, in the dark, and Dodge had a beard.  None of what is happening is possible.”  She turned her head and began muttering to herself in a wild attempt to rationalize the situation.  “It’s a dream.  It has to be.  Or I’m dying.  That’s it.  I got too close to the Gaia and I’m really still on that bridge, dying.” 

“It always goes back to him, doesn’t it?  I didn’t miss the butt-buddy stuff you two had going on.  Why can’t you just answer my questions?”

“I don’t know anything,” she replied with a shout.  Her voice cracked.  “I’m telling the truth.  I didn’t kill anyone’s wife.  I’ve never hurt anyone in my life.”

“Please,” he scoffed.  He sighed.  “Tell me what you do know.  Tell me what you remember about the battle.”

“What battle?” Dresden shouted.  “I want to talk to Dodge.  Where’s Dodge?  Let me talk to him.  He’ll tell you.  I swear, I don’t know where I am or what’s going on.  You can’t keep me in here, Nick.”

He scratched his head.  “Stop calling me that.  Nobody calls me that.  Start calling me Shepherd.”

“Well,
Shepherd
,” she sassed, “you can’t keep me here.  I didn’t do anything wrong.”

He was quiet, pondering his options.

“And you don’t remember anything?” he interrogated.  “Nothing at all?”

“No,” she shouted.  “You can’t keep me here.”

The man looked to the staircase and returned his focus to her with a sinister smile on his face. 

“I’m not keeping you here anymore.  I’ll let Dodge see you.”  He called to the door once more.  “Lyle, come down here.”