Lisa Miscione - Twice

“You boys are in a lot of trouble… again,” said a voice Jeffrey recognized.

She didn’t know how long they had been walking and the darkness was disorienting. She felt closed in and was having difficulty breathing in the dankness. Though she was trying to remember where they had turned by running her hands along the wall, feeling for abnormalities that she would remember if feeling her way out, it seemed fairly hopeless. She had no idea where she was, and if she turned and tried to leave, she might be wandering the tunnels forever.

She followed her guide more just by hearing him than actually seeing him. He shuffled his feet loudly, maybe on purpose so she could hear him. Or maybe that was just the way he walked… quickly, rushing, shuffling his little feet. He hadn’t said a word and she wondered if he was mute. She started talking, mainly just to make herself feel better.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked him. “What’s he giving you?”

He didn’t answer her, just gave a little snort that was maybe meant to express disdain.

“Because he’s using you, you know. When you’ve fulfilled your purpose he’ll kill you and never think twice about it. So anything he’s promised you is a lie.”

“Shut up,” came a small, whiny voice from in front of her.

Bull’s-eye , she thought with an inner smile.

“It’s true. He doesn’t care about you. He’s not your friend.”

She had given it a little thought while feeling her way through the darkness. What would motivate someone to do the bidding of Jed McIntyre? The life of a homeless dwarf couldn’t be an easy one. He was probably scared a lot of the time, lonely, a misfit even in a land of misfits. Money doesn’t buy loyalty for very long, generally. But fear can, gratitude, maybe for a time. Maybe Jed was offering him protection.

“You think he’s looking out for you. But as soon as he has what he wants, he won’t need you anymore, Shorty.”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, his voice defensive and angry.

She grinned at her victory. Even in moments of mortal danger and terrible fear, Lydia really had a knack for fucking with people’s heads.

“Just tell me what he promised you. Is he protecting you? He’s going to leave you here when he goes, trust me. He’s not taking you with him. Besides, I’m going to kill him. Then you’ll have to answer to me .”

The midget laughed and it sounded at once childlike and sinister.

“Yeah, right. You’re going to kill him .”

“Watch me. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

His giggling stopped abruptly. “When he’s done with you, you’re not even going to want to live.”

The words sent an army of chills from her neck into her fingertips. She wanted to pull out her gun and make the dwarf wet his pants and weep for mercy. But if she killed him, she’d never find Jeffrey. If she never found Jeffrey, then the little bastard would be right after all.

“When this is over, I’m going to have mercy on you, Shorty.”

“Isn’t that generous?” came another voice out of the darkness. “You’re a better person than I am, Lydia Strong.”

Suddenly there was light and the darkness seemed to skitter away in the beam of the powerful flashlight. In the momentary blindness that followed, she heard Jed McIntyre laugh.

She struggled against arms that wrapped around her from behind, arms as cold and strong as lengths of chain. One impossibly powerful arm held her immobile across the chest and another wrapped tightly around her throat. She tried to twist away from him, feeling weak against his superior weight and the intensity of his grip on her. When she stomped down hard down on his foot, his grip loosened for just a moment and she managed to free an arm. Her hand flew to the shoulder holster but stopped dead when she felt the steel of a blade against her neck. It was so sharp that just the lightest touch nicked her skin and she felt a warm vein of blood trickle down her neck. Her breathing came harsh and ragged.

“This would be a good time to hand over your weapons, Lydia,” Jed McIntyre said reasonably. “I can feel one here at your back.”

Releasing her arms but keeping the knife pressed to her throat, he pulled the Glock from her waistband and handed it to the dwarf. “I dislike guns,” he said. “They’re so sloppy.”

The dwarf pointed it at her, his grin superior and malicious. She wondered if he realized she had the safety on. It was a piece of information she’d hold on to for the time being. Her mind was oddly clear in spite of the horror and unreality of the situation. Things seemed to be happening very slowly.

Jed McIntyre removed the Smith and Wesson from the holster and pushed her away from him; she hit a concrete wall hard. She raised a hand to her neck and felt the wet stickiness of her own blood. It looked black on her fingers.

Jed McIntyre picked up the flashlight that lay on the ground and shone it under his face. He looked ghoulish in the harsh white light, creating black circles under his eyes, his teeth yellow and shining. His red hair was a chaos of wild curls.

“You can’t imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment, Lydia. Doesn’t it feel like destiny?”

With that he pointed the revolver at the dwarf, whose malicious smile melted into uncertainty. He let go a little laugh, his eyes darting from Jed to Lydia and back to Jed. “What are you doing?” he asked, voice cracking. “Come on, Jed. It’s not funny.”

“I wouldn’t shoot that in here if I were you,” said Lydia, looking around at the concrete tunnel they were in. At such close range the bullet would pass through the dwarf and ricochet all over the tunnel.

“Sorry, Horatio. It’s been great.”

Horatio swung the gun he had pointed at Lydia toward Jed. It was too big for his hands, but he managed to reach the trigger. But the gun wouldn’t fire. Those pesky safeties.

McIntyre fired the revolver and Lydia dropped to the ground, curled herself in a ball, and covered her head with her arms. The echoing bang must have been heard for miles.

Horatio issued a girlish scream that ended abruptly in a horrible gurgle. She heard him fall to the floor, heard him rasping and convulsing there on the ground for thirty seconds, maybe more. She heard the sharp scream of the bullet as it bounced off the walls, twice, maybe three times before losing momentum, all the while waiting to be struck by it. She leaned against the wall, feeling pity and revulsion, terror and rage come in flashes, competing with one another in intensity. Then there was silence.

“I hope I didn’t act in haste,” said McIntyre, musing.

Horatio’s leg twitched horribly for a few seconds more as blood drained from a throat wound. Lydia felt pity for him as she got to her feet to stand face to face with Jed McIntyre.

“ F ord?”

“Rose.”

“How are you?”

“Can’t complain.” His throat felt as dry and his hands as shaky as a boy talking to his crush. An awkward silence fell between them. They were strangers to each other now. Strangers who shared a twenty-five-year past .

“Where are you?” he asked finally .

“With Katie in Houston.”

“How is she?”

“She’s doing well.”

Again silence. He wasn’t sure what she wanted, why she called. Was it guilt?

“I miss you, Ford.”

He closed his eyes against the swell of emotions that rose in his chest. If he released all that he was feeling, he was sure that the wires on the phone would burst into flames. “I miss you, too,” he said in a voice that croaked, one he barely recognized .