All Who Wander Are Lost (An Icarus Fell Novel) (48 page)

“
You
don’t have to answer yet,” Marty said. My eyes floated
back to him and his gaze flickered to Tony looming behind me. “Why
don’t you move on, pal. My friend’s got his drink.”

I sensed Tony shift
his weight from foot to foot but he neither left nor responded.
Marty’s face darkened to the unusual shade of pink it tended
toward whenever he angered—usually when his team lost and Todd
poked fun at him. Or a server took too long getting him a fresh
beer. He pushed his chair away from the table.

“
Did
you hear me, bub? Time to go.”

Todd also moved his
chair, fulfilling his role of wing man if things went bad, but he’d
never fight, that was Marty’s domain. The sound of chair legs
screeching on pockmarked linoleum floor deserved a cliché
comparison to fingernails on a chalkboard, but even with the drugs
circling my brain, I wouldn’t be so trite.

Tony ceased wiping
his hands on the apron but still didn’t leave. Marty’s
eyes bulged a little in his head, then he leaned against the edge of
the table, readying himself to stand. I got to my feet before he
did.

“
Waitaminutewaitaminutewaitaminute.
You don’t need to do this.”

Marty remained
seated, hands on table. I glanced at Todd, then Tony who stood close
enough to make me uncomfortable, all of them awaiting a good reason
not to come to fisticuffs. I waited along with them, my brain
wondering what the Hell my mouth would come up with. Luckily, Tony
finally spoke up and took the pressure off.

“
Icarus
is taking me back,” he said. “He already tried once.”

Not helpful.

Marty stood, chair
tipping behind him, clattering to the floor. I rolled my eyes—it
seemed like Marty couldn’t stand without knocking over his
chair for melodramatic effect.

“
Ric’s
our friend,” Marty said, face red, fists clenched. “He’s
taking me and Todd.”

“
Whoa,
settle down, boys. For starters, I can only take one back.
Secondly--”

“
One?”
Todd reiterated. “Only one?”

My brain cursed my
mouth.

Todd looked at
Marty. Marty looked at Todd. Before I could react, Todd jumped out
of his chair and grabbed the front of my shirt, pulled my face way
too close to his. The veins on his nose looked like cracks in a
sidewalk.

“
Get
me out of here, Ric,” he said, spittle striking my cheek. I
flinched, but probably about two seconds after it hit. His voice
dropped to a husky whisper. “Marty never liked you.”

“
Not
true.”

Marty shoved Todd
sending him stumbling. I lurched from the table, backing away in
time to avoid Marty jumping across it to get at his friend. In the
process, Tony grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me from the
scuffle. He released me when we got to the bar.

“
Thanks,”
I said begrudgingly—the memory of him watching those boys in
the locker room clung to me like dog shit to the bottom of a shoe.

“
Thank
me by taking me with you.”

I shook my head and
almost lost my balance. I giggled and immediately felt bad for doing
so.

Child molesters
are no laughing matter.

“
But
you were going to take me before.”

“
It
was a mistake.”

His expression
changed as if I’d surprised him with a punch to the gut. It
reminded me of Droopy, the morose-looking cartoon dog. I giggled
again.

“
A
mistake? How could it be a mistake? What did I ever do to you?”

I glared at him,
anger building in my muscles as the smell of the dog crap stuck in
the treads of my runner wafted up to my nostrils forcing back the
mild euphoria.

“
You
coached my son.”

He looked at me,
the hurt still in his eyes, and opened his mouth—probably to
beg me to take him with me or ask forgiveness for being a
pervert—but I stumbled past him, headed for the door.

I made it halfway
before being tackled.

Maybe Marty and
Todd had settled their differences over which one should go with me
and which would be left behind, maybe they hadn’t. Either way,
it seemed they recognized that if I left, neither would go with me.

My elbow struck the
floor and rubbed the threadbare carpet near the bar hard enough to
leave a burn on my flesh. That made me laugh, too. Marty’s big
hand grabbed my shoulder, flipped me over, shook me. The combination
of shaking and laughing made drool run down my cheek.

“
Take
me with you.”

“
No,
take me.”

Tony joined in,
forcing his way between them so their trio of desperate faces
pleaded from on high like a group of pathetic gargoyles. Through the
haze of Orlando’s syringe-full-of-fun, I recognized that none
of them were really my friends. I’d barely said a sober word
to Marty and Todd—ours was a friendship of the bottle. And
Tony deserved a spot in Hell for his unwholesome appetites.

Here’s the
problem: the three of them had me pinned. No possibility of escape
and, in that moment, I didn’t care. But something deep down
inside me realized this called for desperate measures, a complicated
plan. I formulated it quickly and put it into play.

“
Come
on guys, let me go.”

This time it was my
mouth’s chance to be disappointed with my brain’s choice
of actions.

“
Not
until you tell us who you’re taking.”

Marty elbowed Tony,
then shouldered Todd aside. He had size on both of them so if it
came to a contest of strength, he’d win. But Tony proved
plucky and the two of them stared down at me as they forced Todd
back.

“
Guys--”

Marty leaned
forward suddenly, the proximity of his nose to mine startling me.
The pink tinge in his face deepened to red, his eyes bulged in
cartoonish fashion. Looking up at him, I wasn’t sure whether
Orlando’s injection made him look this way or if this was the
real Marty.

“
I
got an idea,” Marty said, sour breath warm on my face. “Maybe
if Ric doesn’t go back there’d be room for one more.”

I stared up at him
without comprehension. To clarify, Tony shouldered his way past
Marty’s leering face and wrapped his fingers around my throat.
I had the sinking suspicion they’d rehearsed this.

Tony’s
fingers clamped around my windpipe, squeezing until breath couldn’t
find its way into my lungs. I knew I should struggle, and part of me
wanted to, but Marty perched on my chest and a chemically-induced
sense of security and euphoria kept me from bothering.

The edge of my
vision went fuzzy, like I viewed the world from inside an aquarium
in need of cleaning. I waited for a school of fish to swim by, or
perhaps an octopus propelling itself forth on a tangle of legs. No
such luck. Instead, the fuzziness went gray. I stared up at Marty
and Tony, found myself wondering if one of them or Todd would be
left behind when Tony finished wringing out my life. I’d been
killed before, so I didn’t know if their plan would work or,
if it did, whether I’d get to find out the outcome.

The point became
moot when the water splashed down over me and my attackers.

To me, it served as
a cool, refreshing slap in the face. It cleared my vision and sent
the drugged-out feeling running for the hills. I felt like a new
man.

The same couldn’t
be said for Marty and friends. They reacted as if splashed with
acid. Tony screamed and relinquished his grip on my throat; Marty
fell backwards, rolling painfully on my lower legs before tumbling
off. I’m not sure what happened to Todd, he seemed to have
disappeared completely. Maybe he melted.

I pushed myself up
on my elbows, coughed to clear my pained esophagus, and blinked to
clear water from my eyes. The world before me smeared, blurred for a
moment, but I made out the figure standing in front of the bar.

Todd?

I blinked again.

Maybe Sully
dropped by.

The last of the
water cleared my eyes and I looked at my son, hair hanging in his
eyes, the galvanized steel pail I’d seen in the cage with him
dangling in his right hand.

“
Trevor?”

He looked at me
through his bangs and twitched his mouth into an almost-smile. The
pail slipped from his fingers and clanked against the floor.
Somewhere nearby, my attackers continued screaming and cursing, but
I ignored them as I climbed to my feet. They didn’t sound in
any condition to be of immediate danger. My joints creaked as I made
my way toward Trevor. The effects of the drug were gone, washed from
me by the water like they’d been mud on my skin, but the
experience left my body a little worse for the wear.

Trevor’s eyes
followed my approach, though he didn’t move. It reminded me of
how he’d been in the cage with Poe: there but not there. Anger
at the guardian angel brewed in my gut again but I suppressed it;
more important things beckoned my worry.

“
Trevor?
Are you okay?”

When I was steps
away from him, Trevor slumped as if all his bones dissolved. I
caught him before he hit the floor, the effort of it straining my
fatigued muscles.

“
Come
on,” I grunted. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Let’s
get you home,
I
wanted to say, but didn’t, unsure if the possibility existed.

I regarded Marty
and Tony, both of them in varying states of agony. Marty writhed on
the floor like the world’s worst break dancer while Tony sat
at a table banging his head rhythmically on its surface. Neither
looked like a threat, and still no sign of Todd.

The effort of
dragging Trevor toward the door took all my remaining energy, but we
made it. I leaned him against the wall, using my shoulder to prop
him up as I spun the knob and swung the door open. Cool air which
smelled of neither alley-waste nor spilled beer wafted against my
face. It held a flowery odor. I threw Trevor’s arm over my
shoulders, wrapped mine around his waist and wrestled him through
the doorway taking care not to bump his limp body or lolling head
against the frame.

I watched my feet
to keep from tripping over anything as we crossed the threshold.
Instead of stepping onto the sidewalk outside Sully’s Tavern,
my loafers touched yellow carpet of the durable variety designed to
withstand the tread of many feet. I looked up.