Ken Douglas - Ragged Man

The man’s eyes lit up.

Rick lowered the pistol and blew off the man’s left knee cap.

The Ragged Man rolled on the ground, screaming in pain until Rick brought the butt of the pistol down on his head, knocking him out.

He checked his pulse and, satisfied the man was still alive, dragged him to the rear of the Montero. Breathing heavily, he opened the back and put up the back seat. Then calling on all of his reserves, he picked up the Ragged Man like a sack of stones and stuffed him into the back, closing the door on him with no more regard than he’d have for dead fish.

Then he drove down the hill toward the pier.

J.P. heard the car start and felt a lump build in his throat. Was Rick dead or was he leaving without him? No matter which, it wasn’t fair. He had been through too much to die naked in a bathtub.

He looked at the clock, 9:50. He had two hours and ten minutes to figure a way out of the mess he was in and he had to do it himself, all by himself, because he was alone, all alone.

He tried twisting his wrists against the rope to no avail. The Ragged Man had tied it too tight. With all his might he struggled to pull his right hand loose, but only succeeded in further bruising his already bruised and cut hands.

Then he tried stretching to see if he could reach the radio. It was a no go. He was still an easy foot shy. In frustration, he raised his bound legs and brought them down in the tub, splashing water, and he splashed again and again and again, sending the red tinged water splattering through out the bathroom. Tired, he dropped his legs and his right foot hit something in the tub.

The soap.

If he could get the soap he could use it to slicken up his hands, and maybe then he could slide them through the ropes.

He used his feet to drag the soap up to where he could stretch and reach it with his hands. Then he raised his hands out of the water and started spreading the soap around. On his hands, on his wrists and on the rope. He rubbed until he had a good lather and then, clenching his teeth against the pain, forced his right thumb under the palm of his hand, till it was pushed firmly against the little finger, and he slowly and firmly pulled.

He felt the rope pulling and scraping against him and it hurt like someone was scraping hot chunks of glass across his skin, but he kept up the pressure and he felt his hand start to slide loose. He pulled harder, sucking his lower lip between his teeth, biting down on it till he tasted blood. His effort paid off. His hand slid through.

He jerked the free hand to his mouth, ripped off the tape and spit blood. He took a deep breath, spit more blood. He untied his other hand. He untied his feet. Then he tried to untie the noose that held his neck back against the hot and cold water faucets and couldn’t.

He struggled with his hands behind his head, against the knot, but it wouldn’t give. Either it was too tight or it was the kind of knot that couldn’t be untied, like the kind he used to get in his shoelaces. When he got that kind of knot the only way to undo it was with a scissors.

He needed a rest.

He looked at the clock.

It was 10:15.

Rick Gordon turned the Montero off Mountain Sea and onto the pier, ignoring the No Vehicles on the Pier sign.

He hit the horn and kept it blaring for the length of the pier, scattering tourists and locals from his path. When he got to the boat, Captain Stewart and Judy Donovan were waiting. He jumped out of the car, causing the waiting couple to jump back at his bloody appearance.

“ My God,” Judy gasped, “what happened to you?”

“ I’ve been shot.”

“ We need to get you to a doctor!”

“ Later. First we have to dump some human garbage out at sea.”

“ No. We have to get you to a doctor!” Wolfe Stewart echoed Judy.

“ We have a much more important thing to take care of.” Rick went to the back of the Montero, opened the rear door.

“ Is he alive?” Wolfe asked.

“ Not for long, we’re going to dump him at sea and leave him for the sharks.”

“ No, we’re not!” Wolfe Stewart said. “We’re not taking the law into our hands. We’ll call the sheriff,”

“ He killed J.P.”

“ Load him on the boat,” Wolfe Stewart said.

“ I was afraid of that.” Judy turned ashen, her voice cracking.

“ I’m sorry. I tried, but I was too late.”

Wolfe started for the unconscious man when Judy said, holding back her tears, “I know that man.”

Rick Gordon and Wolfe Stewart stopped.

“ He took me to dinner.”

“ He won’t be taking anyone else to dinner,” Rick said. Then to Wolfe Stewart, “Let’s get him on the boat.”

Wolfe took Storm under the arms, Rick grabbed the legs and they hauled him out of the back of the car and up onto the deck.

Wolfe went up to the bridge and started the engines. Judy released the lines and Rick went to the galley and gulped water from the faucet.

Judy hopped on board as the boat started to pull away from the pier and stood over the unconscious Sam Storm, eyeing the man, more out of curiosity than anger.

“ I would have expected tears,” Rick said, coming up from behind.

“ She will have time to cry later, after we dispose of Mr. Storm,” Judy said.

“ She?” Rick leaned against the rail for support.

“ Haven’t you wondered about all this? Haven’t you asked yourself, why? Why you?”

“ Yes.”

“ And?”

“ And I think this is the galka that Ann was afraid of. I think he can’t be killed, or is damn hard to kill.”

“ Go on,” she said.

“ I think that when he dies, he moves into another body, someone close by.”

“ That’s why you want to dump him at sea? Alive?”

“ Yes.”

“ So he’ll be alone in death?”

“ Yes.”

“ How far away do we have to be when he goes?”

“ I don’t know.”

“ What if we’re not far enough?”

“ I don’t know.”

“ What if we’re not far enough and he tries to take over you?”

“ I don’t think he can.”

“ Or me?”

“ I don’t know.”

“ He can’t take me.”

“ Why not?”

She moved in close and kissed him on the lips, then she ran her tongue along the scar under his ear. “This is why not. It’s you and me Flash, just like it always was.”

“ Ann?”

“ I’m here, Flash.”

“ What are you talking about?”

“ I’m here, inside, with Judy. That’s why I came to you instead of waiting for J.P. You were in trouble and we thought, in error, that J.P. wasn’t.”

“ This can’t be happening.”

“ We are Marangit, you and I. We are the sum of everything and everyone that made up those old Aborigines. I am the sum of all the old woman’s lives plus Judy’s, or put another way, she is the sum of all the old woman’s lives plus mine. Either way, I’m here.”

“ I don’t believe it.”

“ Believe it, Flash.” She kissed him again as only Ann had been able to kiss him and once again she ran her tongue over the scar. “Believe it.”

“ Why don’t I feel any different?”

“ Usually it takes a while before one realizes he is Marangit. Sometimes one never knows, but usually when the Marangit are called upon to fight the Galka, one knows, or is made to know. When that happens, the strongest personality, or the most capable, takes over the living body.”

“ And you have taken over Judy?”

“ Not exactly. We’ve decided to share, to merge ourselves. My memories are Judy’s and Judy’s are mine. I’m not Ann and I’m not Judy.”

“ You kiss like Ann. You know about the scar, and only Ann would know that. You called me Flash, and only Ann did that. But I’m finding this hard to buy into.”