Algernon - Part Seven

The trio settles into their hideout, but unfortunately, their troubles are quickly catching up to them.

The Real Folks Blues
 

In an out of the way place in an out of the way town down an out of the way back road stood an out of the way warehouse. It was just like any other warehouse – it had four walls, a tin roof, a cement floor, doors, and windows here and there along the walls. The only thing that made it different from other warehouses was that there was a small group of rebels hiding in the basement.

One of these rebels, or EVAs as they called themselves, a man named Owen, sat at a broken desk poring over maps. These maps were stolen blueprints for government buildings which the EVAs planned on raiding and burning. Owen was in charge of formulating a plan to get them in and then get them out after they were done planting bombs. On this particular night however, Owen was having a difficult time focusing on the task at hand. Something was bothering him, but he could not put his finger on what exactly was bothering him. Thinking he heard something outside, he turned but found nothing. He rested his elbows on the desk and massaged his temples, telling himself that it was just late and that was why he was having so much trouble concentrating.

Getting up out of his chair, he stretched and walked toward the door on the other side of the room. Maybe if he took a walk, he would feel a little less overwhelmed. He again turned around, thinking he heard something, but found nothing and no one in the room but himself. He was about to leave the room when he ran hurriedly back to the desk. The plans were gone.

He searched around the desk frantically, thinking maybe they had fallen off, but to no avail. He surveyed the room closely. EVAs had risked their lives to bring back these plans, and now they were gone. Owen ran towards the door, hoping that maybe he could catch whoever was escaping with the plans.

An explosion rocked the warehouse. A rain of metal and concrete fell cascading from the skies miles above and showered onto the several feet surrounding where the warehouse used to stand.

Two figures stood ten miles away on the rooftop of another abandoned warehouse, observing the fireworks. One of the figures was erect, arms folded across her chest, a sickeningly satisfying smile dancing across her face as she laughed silently to herself. The other was on her knees holding her head in her hands, trying to block out the screams of the hundreds of dying people begging to be saved that echoed through every part of her mind. The plans for the buildings lay at her feet, ignored. The standing woman looked down at the other and nudged her with the toe of her boot.

“Chloe, what have I told you about not bowing to pressure?”

“They’re dying! I can feel their pain!” Chloe screamed, desperately clinging to handfuls of her burgundy hair, a forest green cloak wrapped around her thin body. “I can’t take it! Why do you make me do this?”

“I make you do this so that you can become desensitized to pain. I don’t need you to sense feelings, I need you to sense people,” the other woman said kneeling down and pulling hair out of Chloe’s face.

Chloe looked up at her, tears in her eyes. “I got you your plans. That’s all you asked me to do. I want to go back now.”

“No, my dear. I think I’ll keep you around for a little while longer. There is something else I need you to help me with. In the meanwhile, enjoy the fireworks.”

***

Valerie shuffled the deck of cards with expert precision. At first the cards had seemed foreign in her hands after so many years, but she very quickly adjusted. Since no one was at her table, she spread the cards out on the table, flipped them over, back over again, and back into a stack.

The casino was always empty in the mornings, its red, green, and black checkered carpets still smelling of the carpet shampoo from the night before. Slot machines chimed loudly to her right, the flashing lights inviting gamblers to try their luck for big prizes and bigger money. The faint smell of smoke hung in the air, drifting up from the cigars and cigarettes of men sitting at the tables; the soft clink of glasses being set down on coasters, touched together in a toast could be heard faintly over the noise of the slots. Valerie tugged at her black bowtie and straightened her red vest. This was probably the best dressed she had been in a while, and it was extremely uncomfortable. 

Brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes, she performed the card trick again. Hearing clapping, she looked up. A thin woman with burgundy hair short in front and tied in the back wearing a forest green cloak that looked more like a cape was coming toward the table. Valerie stopped her card tricks and stared at the woman as she sat down.

“That was impressive. You’re very good.” The woman counted out ten thousand in chips and slid them towards the center of the table. Valerie set down a house ante with the other chips.

“Thank you,” Valerie said as she dealt cards.

One card up, one card down. One card up, one card down. The woman carefully lifted her facedown card and studied it, expressionless.

Valerie looked at her card – she had twenty. Pretty damn good, if she did say so. The woman chuckled and Valerie looked up.

“Hit,” the woman said.

Valerie gave her another card face up on the table. The woman studied the cards again for a moment before she spoke again.

“You’re feeling lucky.”

“Pardon?”

“Do you feel lucky?” the woman asked. “Well, do you, punk?”

Valerie stared at her for a moment before she turned over her cards. “Twenty.”

“Blackjack.” Chills shot down Valerie’s spine. The woman collected her chips, leaving in her bet. Valerie put in a house bet and dealt another hand. The woman again studied her cards, but did not ask for a hit. Valerie hit and studied her cards again.

“Are you worried?” she asked nonchalantly. Valerie looked up at her. “Don’t try to hide it. It’s written all over your face.”

“Nineteen.” Valerie revealed her cards.

“Blackjack.” Another smile. Valerie could feel her palms becoming clammier; the cards seemed slick, like they would slip out and fly all over the carpet. She swallowed, trying to ignore the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach, to ignore the tension that had settled over them.

The woman collected her chips, leaving another bet in the center of the table. “What are you so worried about?”

“I’m not worried.”  

The woman narrowed her eyes, resting her folded arms on the edge of the table. She appeared to be trying to overcome her own nervous twitching, her fingers tapping rapidly on her forearms. “Yes, I think you are. I can feel it in the way you deal the cards. Something is bothering you, something you don’t want to acknowledge.”

Valerie looked into her eyes, trying to hide any sort of emotion. “Do you want a hit?” she asked stiffly.

“Please.” The woman smiled as Valerie gave her another card and then one to herself.

The two looked at their cards for a moment before Valerie revealed. “Straight.”

“Blackjack. My, I’m having a lucky day. Blanca over there at the other table was stealing all my money.”

Valerie said nothing and dealt the cards for a fourth time. Another woman with short brown hair and a round face, wearing a thick coat, a cigarette in her hand came and sat down at the table. Valerie recognized her, but said nothing and dealt her in. The second woman took a hit and so did Valerie.

All bets in, Valerie revealed her hand. “Twenty.”

“Nineteen,” said the brunette. The other woman paused for a moment before flipping over her hand.

“Twenty-one.” She stood, collected the chips from the center of the table, and looked intently at Valerie. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” She smiled and walked away. When she was a few feet from the table, she turned and faced the brunette. “You seem to be harboring ill feelings toward this dealer. I recommend taking it outside and not getting blood on the carpet.” She smiled and disappeared into the crowd. Valerie stared after her for a moment before the brunette motioned her closer.

“I have to talk to Ryan. Your situation appears to have gotten worse,” Ayn whispered.

“You mean it wasn’t already worse?” Valerie whispered back.

“Take your break in two hours and you’ll find out just how much worse it’s gotten,” Ayn said getting up from the table and disappearing into the crowd.

***

Ryan was napping in the hotel room above the casino on the couch with a magazine over his face when he heard the phone ringing. He groaned and shifted his leg slightly, but did not get up off of the couch.

“Moose, can you get that?”

There was no answer and the phone continued to ring. Grunting, Ryan took the magazine off his face, set in on the table, sat up, stretched, and got off the couch to answer the phone.

“What is it, Moose?”

“This isn’t Moose,” a female voice said.

Ryan almost dropped the phone. “What the hell?” he whispered. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” Ayn said.

“Just a second.” Ryan went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“That’s original.”

“Not done yet.” Ryan shuffled through Valerie’s things and found her hairdryer. He plugged it in on the bathroom counter, but decided against turning it on. Returning to the other room, he turned on the television to a soccer game. Moving into the kitchen, Ryan set the microwave timer for five minutes and pressed start. “You have five minutes. Go.”

“She has an empath. She knows what you’re going to do.”

“Empaths can’t sense motive, they can only sense feeling.”

“Well, she sensed that Valerie was worried today at the card table.”

“What!?” Ryan yelled, and then lowered his voice. “What?”

“The empath was playing cards at Valerie’s table today. I played a round with her before she left. She could sense my hostility towards Valerie.”

“I’d love to meet someone who wasn’t hostile towards Valerie.”

“Not my point. If she’s using the empath you have to be careful. They can still feel you even if they can’t see you,” Ayn explained.

“I know that. What does that have to do with us?”

“You’re going to have to find the empath and take her down before she can tell Dante about you.”

Ryan paused for a moment, remembering. After he and May had left, Mirielle had attached herself to a female companion named Chloe, a woman that seemed to have come out of thin air; no one knew who she was, and there were no records of her. He vaguely recalled rumors of Chloe being an empath, but he had dismissed them as legend since people with hyperempathy syndrome were kept in special centers. Using an empath as a body guard wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare enough that most government officials didn’t even bother to acknowledge that they existed.

But if it was true and Chloe was an empath working for Mirielle, there was little chance that they would be alive in the morning.

“This wasn’t supposed to go down like this.” Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “You hate me, why are you helping me?”

“I don’t want you dead. That would require a lot of paperwork. Do you think I want another bloodbath on my hands?”

Ryan paused, thinking. How did she know he would be here? What strings had she pulled to follow him. For all I know, Ayn’s been reporting back to her and this conversation will get leaked anyway…

The timer on the microwave rang.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I died a long time ago. My body just never went with me,” Ryan said quietly. When there was no response, he hung up the phone and leaned against the counter. Nothing could ever be easy for him, could it? Absolutely nothing.

***

Valerie ran into the room two hours later expecting to find Ryan, Moose, and Ayn sitting waiting for her. What she did find was Ryan sitting in a chair opposite the couch, hunched forward, his head resting in his hands. Moose was lying on the couch on his back, hands behind his head. Neither of them said anything, nor acknowledged that she had even entered the room.

“What the hell? I thought we had a problem to discuss,” Valerie said, exasperated.

“We do have a problem, but it’s already been discussed,” Moose said, not moving from his position on the couch.

“Then, that…Ayn was telling the truth.”

Moose opened his eyes and looked at her. “Yes, she was. And if we don’t take care of the empath that you met today, then we’re going to have a lot more problems than we already do.”

“Empath? What the f**k is an empath?”

“Someone with hyperempathy syndrome. They can detect and feel all of the emotions and feelings of the people around them. They’re pretty rare, but when the government found out about them, they were doing experiments on them in the ‘40s. Wound up being really messy cause they were trying to breed them and the empathy would disappear after a couple of generations or it produced super empathetic monsters that would either kill themselves or spend the rest of their life in a mental institution on painkillers.

“The government ended up executing the whole operation and everyone involved in it. There are still empaths out there, but they have to register themselves with the government and agree to be kept in isolation for use by the government,” Moose explained.

“But, I thought they only existed in stories…it was just something in science fiction….”

“Not anymore they don’t – all the drug testing they do on people, I’m actually not surprised this has happened. What’s worst about it is that it’s becoming more and more common. The government keeps all these women in isolation…”

“Women?” Valerie raised an eyebrow.

“Empaths are primarily women. There have been really rare cases of men having it, but for some reason they can’t tolerate it the same way women can,” Moose shrugged.

“So the weird b***h that was playing cards with me today was an empath?”

“Yes.”

“Still missing why we’re in trouble, Moose.”

“You’re awful dumb, Valerie.” Ryan spoke for the first time since she had come in. “If Dante has an empath, when we try to get to her, the empath can feel us and she’ll come after us before we can get to Dante. Do you see the problem now?” Ryan delivered this speech in an annoyed manner, as if speaking to an exceptionally idiotic individual.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot.”

“Stupid is as stupid does.” Ryan smiled. It looked painful.

“Can you two stop bitching at each other for two minutes so we can figure out what to do?” Moose asked.

“First of all, only if she’s going to stop being dumb. Second, we already figured out what we’re going to do.”

“And what, pray tell, is that?” Valerie asked.

“We’re not going to do anything,” Ryan said.

“You wanna run that by me again?” Moose sat up and looked at him.

“We’re not going to do anything. Dante obviously sent the empath to freak us out and make us change our plans. Well, that’s what we’re doing, and we need to not do that. We need to just stay cool and go with the plan as it is. I’m not going to back out of this, I don’t know about you two.”

“Y’know,” Valerie said crossing her arms, “I have half a mind to stay out of this and just let you handle it. You’re the only one who seems to have a problem with Dante anyway, so why don’t we just let you take care of her?”

Ryan looked at her in a way that suggested he wanted very badly to strangle her, but he didn’t move. There was a long silence. Ryan sighed, put his head back between his knees and mumbled to himself. Valerie rolled her eyes and went out the door, slamming it hard behind her. She stood in the hallway for a moment longer, listening.

“What’d you do that for?” Moose asked.

“Just let me take care of it, okay?” Ryan said.

Valerie heard footsteps coming toward the door, and retreated hastily down the hall.

“You can’t do anything for a dead woman!” she heard Moose yell behind her.

***

Moose rolled over and looked at the clock on the side table: three am. He had never had this much trouble sleeping in his entire life. Rolling onto his back, he glanced over at Ryan, asleep in the next bed, and sighed. He wished he was younger. When he was younger, he could sleep better. The times were no better now than then, but he could sleep better.

He got up and went into the kitchen thinking he’d make himself some tea. Leaving the bedroom, he saw a shadow dance across the wall briefly and then disappear. He thought it might be Valerie, who was working the tables late downstairs, but remembered that she didn’t get off until four.

Someone else was in the room.

He went back toward the bed and tried to reach for the gun under his pillow, but failed. Someone small had attached themselves to his back and was not going to let go. Inadvertently kicking Ryan’s bed, Moose grabbed at the arms around his neck, and tried to pry them off while spinning around back first into a wall.

Ryan didn’t move.

“I figured you would be a hard one to take down,” a female voice said in his ear. “Don’t panic. Panic will only make my job easier.”

“How is that, empath? If I panic, you panic.” Moose grunted, kicking Ryan’s bed again, this time on purpose, as he spun into the opposite wall.

Ryan was still out cold.

“It’s no use waking him. I drugged him so he wouldn’t wake up and interrupt me. He’s going to be asleep for a long time.”

“Is that so?” Moose asked, running into the wall again. Sweat dripped off his forehead into his eyes, making the skin under his metal plate itch.

“Yes. Drugs are a wonderful scientific marvel are they not?”

“Only when used properly.” Moose grunted, turning and landing back first on Ryan’s bed, which broke under the impact. The empath loosened her grip enough for Moose to unwind her arms from around his neck. Holding her wrists with one hand, he pinned her down at the neck with the other.

“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy did you?” Moose smiled.

“For a minute there, yeah, I did.” She swung her leg around and hit Moose squarely in the head. He slumped over, unconscious.

***

Releasing his grip from around her neck and wrists, the empath stood up and looked at Ryan, who now lay haphazardly in a mess of sheets.

“Now, to take care of you.” She held up a small, thin triangular knife. “This was almost too easy.”

She leaned over him.

Valerie walked quietly toward her, cocking the hammer of her gun.

“Think again, b***h.” Valerie pressed the gun against the other girl’s temple. “Now, drop the knife and let’s settle this like ladies.”

The empath slowly put down the knife, stood up, and allowed Valerie to lead her into the living room. Valerie motioned for her to take a seat on the couch, still keeping the gun on her. The empath sat down and looked up at Valerie, burgundy hair tracing thin lines down her face in the dark. Her forest green cloak obscured most of her body, making Valerie feel as if she were talking to a head rather than a person.

“What’s your name?” Valerie asked.

“I don’t see why it matters.”

“It matters to me. I don’t like to kill without having to know whose soul to pray for.”

“That’s precious. I didn’t think you were so devout.”

Valerie said nothing.

“In this age, churches are merely symbols; no one actually believes what they stand for anymore.”

“You’re making me angry,” Valerie hissed through gritted teeth. All she had wanted was to come up and go to bed. 

“Yes, I know,” the empath said, smiling. “I can be angry too, believe it or not, without you helping me.”

Valerie continued to point the gun at her. She’d had quite enough of people f*****g with her today.

“I’m an empath, which means I can sense feelings. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have any feelings of my own.”

“I would love to know what I did to earn such a close following.”

“Well, darling,” the empath leaned back and crossed her legs, “I’m simply here for Mr. Stone. He’s been giving us a lot of grief for a long time, and we want to get rid of him.”

“‘We’?”

“That’s not your business, now, is it?”

“What do you want with him?”

“He knows about things he shouldn’t know about, things that will get both you and us in trouble.”

“How will he get me in trouble? I have nothing to do with him.” Valerie’s aim lowered a fraction of an inch.

“Think about it. You’re a fugitive, wanted by the government for stealing important information regarding an experimental drug from a birthing facility. Theoretically, he could turn you in any time he wanted.” The empathy picked at a loose thread on the chair and looked back up at Valerie.

“So why doesn’t he?”

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? Why keep a stray cat? What’s the point?” Valerie raised the gun again, her lips pursed into a thin line. “The way I see it, he keeps you around for immunity reasons. If he turns you in, he’ll get bagged not only for harboring a fugitive, but for that little incident a few years ago in the Mountain Zone.”

“You’re lying.”

“Tell me again.” She leaned forward. “Come on. Tell me I’m lying.”

“Back off, b***h!” Valerie jabbed the gun at her and the woman smiled.

“What happened to settling this like ladies?”

“Your name. I want your name,” Valerie said through gritted teeth.

“Chloe. Chloe Noir.”

“Well, Chloe, let me ask you something.”

“As you wish.” She leaned back and folded her hands behind her head.

“Are you prepared to die?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s the question I’m supposed to be asking you.” She sat up, pulled a knife out from behind her head, threw it, and managed to knock the gun out of Valerie’s hand.

The gun landed on the tile in the kitchen with a metallic clatter. Valerie’s hand flew back. Chloe jumped over the table between them and tried to land a punch, but Valerie blocked with her other arm and planted her right fist into Chloe’s jaw. Her hands closed around Valerie’s neck.

Both girls fell over the back of the chair and rolled into the bathroom. Valerie managed to get free of Chloe’s grip and wrapped her legs around her waist to subdue her. Once Valerie managed to get on top of Chloe, she braced her against the cabinets and tried to choke her, hands gripping the girl’s neck as if she were hanging off a cliff.

Chloe reached up on the counter and found the hair dryer. Grasping the handle, she swung around and hit Valerie in the side of the head. Valerie yelled and fell to her left against the tub. Chloe stood up and set the hairdryer back on the counter. Valerie caught her with a swift kick behind the knee, bringing her back down on the tile. She hit the floor hard.

Valerie got up, picked Chloe up by the hair, and threw her forcefully against the door. She beat her like a punching bag, and Chloe began to cough up blood.

With her left hand, she grabbed Valerie around the throat. Valerie gasped for air and tried to pry the hand off her neck. She loosened her grip and Chloe was able to get her feet squarely on the ground bracing herself.

With her regained strength, Chloe flung Valerie onto the counter and into the mirror. Valerie screamed as the mirror broke, pieces of broken glass lodged into her back. She fell forward off the counter and face down onto the rug.

She heard water running somewhere to her right and deduced that Chloe had turned on the bath water. Turning her head, she was able to see a fuzzy outline of someone leaning over the tub and feeling the water to make sure it was the right temperature. She managed to pull herself up carefully and braced herself against the counter. Chloe got up from the edge of the tub and looked at her.

She’s going to drown me….

“Looks like this b***h still has some fight left in her.”

“You can take the b***h out of the fight, but you can’t take the fight out of the b***h.” Valerie leaned over and pushed Chloe into the tub. Water sloshed over the sides as she fell backwards, and Valerie fell on her knees. She used this opportunity while Chloe was struggling to get out of the tub to grab the hairdryer, turn it on, and throw it into fray of arms and legs.

Sparks flew as the dryer hit the water and Chloe screamed in anguish before slumping over silently, the appliance still sparking. The smell of burning hair, the sweet aroma of smoldering skin, and charred wiring filled the air with a clear smoke, which reminded Valerie of when Ryan had broken the Algernon’s radio. Making sure her hand was dry, Valerie stood and carefully unplugged it, staring at the paling body. Hopefully this meant that their trouble was over.

“Looks like you got her,” Moose said from behind her.

“Yeah,” Valerie said slowly. “I guess I did.”

“Serves that little b***h right. I’ve got a headache the size of Lake Superior because of her,” Moose said. Valerie felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. “What’d you do to your back?”

“I ran into the mirror.”

Moose noticed the broken mirror and nodded, but stopped and held his head again. “Ah, I see that. Let’s get you patched up, shall we?” Valerie allowed herself to be lead from the bathroom and into the kitchen, keeping an eye on Chloe to make sure she was really dead.

 

Ryan didn’t wake up until late the next morning and when he did, he felt like he’d been hit over the head with something very large and very heavy. Groaning, he got up out of bed and walked into the living room, where he found Valerie laying on her stomach on the couch watching television, bandages encompassing most of her middle. He sat down next to her on the couch and looked over at her.

“What the f**k happened to you?”

Valerie ignored him and continued to focus on the television.

There was a knock on the door, and Ryan got up off the couch to answer the door. No one was there, but there was an envelope taped over the peep hole. Taking the envelope off the door, he shut it just as Moose came out of the bathroom.

“Look who decided to join the party,” Moose said, emptying a dustpan into the garbage.

“Moose, was I drinking last night?” Ryan asked, turning the envelope over in his hands.

“How the hell should I know? You disappear and don’t come back until all hours of the morning. By the time I saw you, you were out cold, but it was probably the drugs. Speaking of which, I need you to help me with something.”

“If I help you, will you tell me about the drugs?” He threw the envelope on the table and put a hand on his hip.

“I think what you’re helping me with will explain the drugs.” Moose motioned him into the bathroom. On the floor wrapped in the shower curtain, was the body of a woman.

“How did we get a dead chick in our room? I didn’t kill anyone while I was on drugs did I?”

“Not unless you got ‘the fear’ from being on a bad trip, but that’s unlikely. No, this would be the little lady that drugged you.”

“Oh f**k no. She drugged me?” Ryan pointed at the body. Moose nodded. “What’s a girl like her doing with drugs?”

Moose rolled his eyes. “She drugged you so she could kill you.”

Ryan looked confused for a moment before it dawned on him. “Is that the empath?” he asked incredulously. Moose nodded again. Ryan let out a low whistle and ran a hand through his hair. “S**t,” he sighed. “Well, I guess we got that problem taken care of.”

“You could say that, yeah. But we have to get this out of the room somehow.” Ryan sighed and put his hands on his hips, thinking hard.

Moose crossed his arms and looked at him. “Well? You got any ideas?”

“Does the hall have any security cameras?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“We could take it down the stairs and throw it in the dumpster in the back,” Ryan said as he knelt next to the body. “That way we don’t attract attention to ourselves.”

“Honestly, I think any way we do this, we’re attracting some attention to ourselves.”

“Eh, you have a point there. Let’s just do this and get it over with.” Ryan folded the envelope and put it in his back pocket. Only when the two got out of the room and halfway down the stairs did Ryan look up at Moose and ask, “So, what happened to Valerie?"