Episode 6
I couldn't believe my ears. He was supposed to be the victim! Had he escaped, and blamed me for Randall's plot?
"When I let you up," He growled, "You're getting into the car, and driving. No tricks, or I take you out."
The weight lifted from my back, and I slowly regained my feet. I still couldn't see anyone around me. Had I been assaulted by a ghost?
A set of keys dropped into my hand. "Open the trunk. I got a gun. You open your mouth even a little, and I blow your head off."
I slowly got back to my feet, and looked at the keys. "Where's Natalie?" I whispered.
"Not a fucking word!" he hissed from right behind my ear. "Do it, freak!"
I wiped sweat from my palms, and walked around to the back of the skimmer to open the trunk. My fingers were shaking almost too much to get lock open. I stopped, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths.
Something inside the trunk thumped.
The key finally went in, and the lid came up. Natalie was inside, duct tape over her mouth, and binding her wrists, knees, and ankles. A box-cutter lay on the carpeted floor next to her head.
"Cut her free," said Matheson.
I gingerly cut through the tape holding her hands, then her knees and ankles. She stripped the tape from her mouth with a grimace while I worked. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked like she had been through all nine Hells, but she didn't seem to be hurt. When she was finally free I lifted her from the car and she jumped into my arms. "I was so worried!"
"We're not out of trouble yet," I whispered.
A voice from a few cars down startled me. "Hey lady! You alright?" A security guard had come out of the building. He was watching me suspiciously.
Matheson whispered, close enough for me to feel his breath on my cheek. "Just a prank. Nothing to worry about."
"Just a prank! Nothing to worry about." Natalie sounded nervous. Too nervous. If the guard got suspicious, we'd be dead, maybe him too.
I chuckled, trying to sound sincere. "Yeah, a sorority thing. You know how it is."
"You sure?"
"Yes!" we said in unison.
When the guard had disappeared back into the building, Matheson poked us with the barrel of his gun. "Alright, into the car. Girlfreak, you first. Try anything and your boyfreak dies."
Natalie swallowed hard, took the keys, and sat behind the controls.
The passenger door opened, and I could see from the depressions in the upholstery that Matheson had gotten into the tiny back seat.
"Now your turn, Stansfield. Get in."
I sat down next to Natalie, and we shared a nervous smile. At least we were together.
"Now drive."
"Where?" asked Natalie.
"Down. Street level."
Natalie turned the key, and the skimmer whirred to life, lifting smoothly from the parking space. She turned toward the exit, and pulled out onto the busy skyway.
"If you shoot us now, I'll drive off the edge."
"Who says I have to shoot you both?" I felt the muzzle tap the back of my head. "I'll start with boyfreak here. You want to drive his corpse around? Keep mouthing off."
"What do you want, Matheson?" I glanced into the back seat. I could see where he was, crammed in behind Natalie, but my magic required me to see my target. If I had even the smallest energy spell, even just a frostlance, I could have used it on him easily. But I didn't.
"You think you're such hot shit, don't you, boyfreak? Your special privileges and your accomodations. Well, you fucked up this time, boyfreak. You messed around with the wrong guy."
"I never messed…"
"Bullshit!" The skimmer lurched as Matheson threw his weight behind me. "You played switcharoo with that Andie asshole Randall, to get into my room. Fucking. With. My. Head! Well, no more of that, boyfreak. I'm in charge now."
"Matheson. Herb. Listen, I never meant…"
"BULLSHIT! You were always playing with my mind. You think I didn't notice that you looked exactly like the… the girls in my dreams? You think I didn't notice? You were fucking with my mind from day one, freak!" His voice had risen to a shriek, and his thrashing around was making the skimmer sway dangerously. "Take that exit! Right there! Do it!"
Natalie swerved in front of a heavy cargo truck to make the turn. We raced around the ramp, way too fast, and nearly smashed into the back of a garbage truck on the next level down. The sky got a bit darker, as we were only one level from the street. Dull gray windows raced by us on both sides.
"I'm the smart one, Freaks. I'm the one who figured out your little plan, figured out what you were trying to do, and turned it back on you. I killed that Randall fucker for what he did, and now it's your turn."
I could hear Matheson panting. If Natalie and I got out of this alive, it would be a miracle. I had to figure out some way to make Matheson visible. I scanned the dashboard and the floor, but there was nothing, not even an old fast food bag. Why couldn't Natalie be sloppy like every other college kid in the world?
I had to keep him talking. If he was talking, he wasn't shooting. "So why didn't you just let me transfer off the floor?"
"What, and let your freakish filth pollute some other mind in the campus? Oh, no, I know your type. You want everyone to be like you. Want everyone to 'take the curse'. Make yourselves all sexy, get everyone to love you, even though no one can tell what they're going to get once they're under your skirts."
"Herb, I'm not an Androgyne."
"SHUT IT!" The gun barrel whacked against the back of my head so hard I saw stars.
Natalie screamed and swerved, avoiding a slow car in the fast lane. I looked over at the speedometer; she was going over a hundred and fifty klicks. She gripped the wheel so hard the tendons were standing out in her hands, and she trembled with fear.
"Slow the fuck down!" screamed Matheson, and I felt a pressure on my left shoulder. His arm was there, right there on my shoulder, as he pointed the gun across his body at Natalie.
I knew where he was.
I grabbed his arm, forcing it down, pinning his arm to the seat, bending his elbow back at painful angle, and then forced my body against it to hold it in place.
Matheson screamed. He jammed his body against the seat but he couldn't get to me, not in the contorted position he found himself in.
Words sprang to mind. I spoke them.
Motions appeared in the fingers of my free hand. I made them.
I reached down, found the power, right where it had always been, as if it had always been a part of me, and let it go.
* * * * *
Police were there within minutes, in the form of six patrol skimmers and a gunboat.
It's nice being a daughter of privilege.
They took control of the situation immediately, securing Natalie and me in the back of the gunboat. I told them where they could find Matheson, and how.
I didn't get to see them throw a dispel on the skimmer to spoil his invisibility, or pull his helpless body, with neither arms to hold a gun nor legs to run on, from the back. I didn't get to hear him screaming and crying and growling incoherently.
I didn't need any of that. Natalie and I were alive.
* * * * *
Mister Grace met us at the police station. We were waiting in the Captain's office, enjoying coffee and donuts usually reserved for the detectives. He swept in with his usual flair, smiling his predatory smile.
"Daddy!" Natalie leapt to her feet and into his arms.
"Clearly," he said, "I need to be more involved in your life," he said. "Things keep going on when I'm not around."
"How's mom?" she said.
"Same as always. She sends her love."
I looked into my coffee cup, embarrassed at being privy to this bit of family business.
"So, I'm here," he said. "My family is safe, and the perpetrator is behind bars. I think it's time for me to hear the whole story?"
Lieutenant Harcourt stood up. For some reason, he didn't look pleased to tell the story, which was odd because he had been much happier before Mister Grace arrived. "Here's what we've been able to piece together from the evidence, a statement from Mister Stansfield, and the confession of the accused. On the night of the fourteenth, John Randall and Mister Stansfield conspired to disguise Randall to get him into Herb Matheson's dorm room. Once there, there was some kind of sexual encounter between Randall and Matheson, possibly with alcohol involved. Early the next morning, Matheson regretted this encounter, and strangled Randall in his sleep. He put an invisibility talisman on the corpse, and smuggled it down to the street level, where he was able to bribe the operators of a garbage incinerator to destroy the corpse. He then returned to his room, and smacked his head against the bedframe to leave traces of blood and hair. A non-detection scroll obliterated any magical traces of the crime. He then used the invisibility amulet to leave the premises, expecting that Stansfield would take the blame for his own murder or abduction. He hid out at street level, staying in contact with a couple trusted friends by mobile phone."
Mister Grace interrupted with an upraised hand. "I expect charges of conspiracy are pending for those friends?"
"Of course. Arrest warrants have already been drawn up."
Mister Grace smiled. "Excellent. Do go on."
"When Matheson found out that the charges had been dropped, he knew his plan was falling apart. He gathered more information from his friends, learning of the growing relationship between your daughter and Mister Stansfield. He used his invisibility amulet to gain access to the classroom level, and kidnapped Miss Grace from the hallways. He used her phone to lure Mister Stansfield into an ambush, and had them drive down towards street level." His snout curled a little smile. "Mister Grace, you owe Mister Stansfield a great debt. It was his quick thinking and decisive action which saved your daughter's life. He rendered Matheson helpless, and then cooperated fully once officers arrived on the scene."
Mister Grace held out his hand to me. "I guess I do, at that."
I took it. "It's okay, Sir."
"Nonsense. I owe you, and that's final."
* * * * *
So it was that over dinner, at a top-tier restaurant, we discussed 'my future'.
"With Daddy's influence we could get Doctor Swallowtail to bend over backwards to make sure we get your condition taken care of."
"I don't know," I said. "I'm starting to think that I'd lose more than I'd gain. I've had this power since I was a kid. Losing it now would be like, well, like losing a limb."
Natalie nodded. "I understand."
After a bit of discussion, we agreed that Mister Grace would fund an off-campus apartment for me, close to the campus, until graduation. Assuming my grades continued as they had been, he would use his contacts to get me a good job afterwards. He assured me that it would be no trouble at all. Someone with my talents and skills would always be in demand.
"Just one stipulation," he said, finally. "No overnight dates."
I blushed.
"Don't get me wrong," he said, holding up one hand as if to fend off the deadly eye-beams from Natalie's glare. "Natalie's a grown woman and can make her own decisions. I don't want you sleeping together right now. And by that, I mean nothing more than what I said. Ben Stansfield, your dreams are dangerous, and I want you to understand them better before my daughter is involved. Agreed?"
"Yes, sir. I wouldn't have it any other way."
The END
