Binds (23 page)

“That’s why we created the SSA, me and a couple of friends that knew AJ … that was his name, the one they took. We were finally getting somewhere too, thanks to the internet and the fact that the techies our government hires are complete dumbasses when it comes to tracking our movements on it. We’ve managed to spread the word worldwide. We have people all over the place sympathetic to our cause. If only we could get more of this country’s own citizens on board … maybe we could make a difference. Well … could have made a difference. I’m not sure what will happen now that I’ve been captured.”

Something stirs inside me at her words. Before we came out tonight, I was ready to play my part. I tried to convince myself that I was going to make a difference with my pistol, my limited knowledge of my abilities, and my ignorant determination that I was part of something more important than myself. In reality, I was as helpless as I have always been. I wasn’t ready for tonight any more than I was ready for one of Donovan’s blows or for the death of my mother to shock me out of my comfortable life. I see now that I was just being idealistic and so was Spencer. It takes more than determination sometimes. David and Goliath stories are inspirational, but they’re not reality. When you’re going up against a foe of Oberon’s capacity, it’s going to take more than twenty Mages armed with meager weapons and Binds that they’re afraid to use out in public; it’s going to take an army.

I see now why Spencer was so adamant about getting to this girl. He saw, just by listening to her command the crowd, that she was special. There is something about her that makes people want to rally around a cause. Spencer has that same magic, only he doesn’t have the crowd. The crowd was what he wanted and I think he saw that through her, he might possibly have it.

The sad thing is that she really believes in what her Sugar Skull Army is trying to do. She is just a regular person who saw an injustice and decided to do something about it instead of live with it. This very fact makes me realize how important she is, not only to her followers, but also to the country. Mages need her, but humans do, too … Oberon isn’t going to stop with us. He wants absolute power. I’ve got to get this girl out of here. I fully accept my culpability in her capture, and now I’ve got to make amends by setting her free. Both of us.

“I’m going to get us out of here,” I say low and anticlimactically, almost as if I am informing myself as I say it.

“Sure,” she replies. “And monkeys might fly out of my butt.”

I try to suppress a laugh at this strangely humorous declaration in the midst of our situation, but it comes out as a snort. I’m really starting to like this lady. She seems to have a habit of speaking what’s on her mind with no filter. After being surrounded by folks who either want nothing to do with me, hate me, or are seemingly keeping enormous secrets from me, sharing time in these crates with someone who speaks honestly is refreshing. It’s like being bathed in truth and I love it. I can tell that she is probably one of those women who would really tell a friend if their butt looked big in new pants or if they had lipstick on their teeth. I can imagine that this is the type of friend I would have wanted had I ever had the chance to have a friend.

“Um … that’s the second time you’ve snorted in the last ten minutes. I think that’s got to be some kind of dork record. You do that a lot?” she asks, proving my previous assumption correct.

“Not really, my pig side is taking over around you, I think.”

“Well, it’s really getting to be kind of scary. I don’t think this is exactly the kind of situation where snorting would be considered socially acceptable, so maybe you can take Wilbur down a notch. You might want to get your sinuses checked … if your brilliant plan of escape hashes out and we ever get away.” Her voice is devoid of any hope. “My name is Allie, by the way.”

“I’m Ophelia, it’s nice to meet you, Allie.”

“Likewise, I guess.” I can hear her settle back against the side of her cage and then the shuffling sound of sudden movement when realization dawns. “Wait. One. Minute. YOU’RE Ophelia Brand, aren’t you?”

“Yep, that would be my name.”

“The same Ophelia Brand that’s married to that dickwad, Donovan Brand?”

“Just call me Mrs. Dickwad.”

“Well, shit,” Allie says with a resigned sigh. “I’ve really screwed myself this time, haven’t I?”

“Other than the fact that we’re both locked in these tiny cages like dogs in a kennel, why would you say that?”

“Hmm, let me see,” she starts. “You’re the Chancellor’s son’s wife. I’ve just admitted that I’m the leader of an Army that is oppositional to everything you stand for. It’s really just a small group, though… well, I wouldn’t even call it a group, no… we’re just a few people who are day of the dead enthusiasts and … um, hang out late at night. You know, just a bunch of punk-goth youngsters… not any kind of real threat to your husband or his father… or yourself for that ma-”

“Allie?” I cut her off.

“Yes?”

“Shut up for a second, okay?”

“Sure thing. Shutting up. I totally do what I’m told and never try to go against the grain in any way. Nope, straight and narrow—that’s the only way for me.”

“The only reason I didn’t draw my weapon tonight and shoot any of those soldiers is because I was stupid and scared, not because I hold any loyalty towards Chancellor Brand or my husband, or the NWO. You probably heard on the news that I was kidnapped away from him a couple weeks ago, and that’s completely true. What they can’t report on the news is that being kidnapped was the best thing that could have possibly happened to me because it got me away from my husband.” I take a moment to take a couple of deep breaths, thinking about where and who we are most likely headed for. This conversation is making the fear even worse, and I’m not only snorting like a pig but now also sweating like one.

“Listen, Allie. I won’t betray you to my husband or anyone. It’s probably hard to believe, I mean, you don’t know me any better than the next girl you could be caged in with, but I’m on your side. The NWO needs to pay for what they’ve done to innocent people. I fear, after seeing what happened tonight, that this is just the beginning of the horrors to come. Someone needs to stop them, someone like you. Like I said, I’m going to get both of us out of here.”

I hope this is a pledge that I can back up. I start mentally cataloging all of the abilities I’ve learned thus far and try to think of ways they may be used to help us. Freezing Binds would work after we get out of these cages. If I used them against our captors, we might be able to get away, but how many people could I freeze at once? It’s so risky. I could go invisible for a few minutes and hopefully sneak away somehow, but what about Allie? I don’t think the invisibility would last long enough to get very far away. Would Donovan expect such powers from me now and take measures to prevent me from using them? I have no clue how much Donovan knows about my abilities. I’m guessing he knows I’m a powerful Mage, but he may still think that my power is restricted somehow. If this is the case, the element of surprise might come in handy. I can’t be too hasty in throwing Binds around because I wouldn’t want to give him an early advantage of protecting himself against me.

I think about what Spencer said the night Reece and I got back from Target and were caught performing a Bind. I think that in this case, I’m not going to give a rat’s ass about going against Mage Law. None of the Mages I’ve come across in Spencer’s building like me anyway, so what’s one more thing for them to be mad about? If it’s a choice between exposing our kind and allowing Donovan to ensnare me again, I’m going to pick exposure every time.

The conveyance we are in comes to a stop with a jerk and the two of us are absolutely still, straining to hear anything that might give us a clue as to our whereabouts or fate. Two thin strips of overhead lighting turn on. It’s not much, but after being in the dark, it’s a flood of illumination through the blackness and causes my eyes to squint at the exposure.

“All right,” Allie says and with her words, she has morphed back into the serious commander she was on the fountain earlier. She’d been sitting so quietly after what I’d said that her words startle me out of my contemplation. “I don’t have much choice in the matter. I figure I’m dead either way, but I’ll believe you … for now. I have an idea and if you really want to prove to me that you’re on my side, you’ll go for it. Here, switch coats with me.” Her clothing rustles as she scrambles to take her crimson military-style trench coat off and fit it through the bars of her cage.

“Okay,” I say, removing mine and slipping it through the bars while grabbing hold of hers. “Why do you want to switch?”

“I don’t know if I’m going to be killed just for being there tonight, from what that soldier said before we attacked, I’m thinking that’s the way it’s going to go—but maybe I can get out of this if I act like a spectator to the incident instead of inciter.” She removes the black bandanna that is woven through her wavy brown hair like a headband and unravels it. Then she begins wiping the makeup from her face. It does little more than smear it so that the red and black flowers surrounding her eyes now resemble angry welts. The mixture of all the other colors on her face gives it a strange pallor, which makes me think of the bride of Frankenstein.

As I am trying to maneuver her coat on in the small space of the cage, the hinges of the double doors to our transport begin to squeak open.

There’s a low chuckle that pervades the spaces around my crate and sinks itself into my skin. Goose bumps erupt down my arms like tiny volcanoes. I know that chuckle. I’ve been taught to fear the sound. It’s so instinctual to me now that dread sweeps over me before I can steel myself for whatever is to come. He speaks and the trepidation increases ten-fold.

“Welcome home, Honey.” Donovan’s voice has more bite in it than a nest of vipers. “I’ve missed you so.”

He beats me until I am bloody and raw. My skin no longer looks like skin, it’s now thin and purple, resembling the casing of old grapes. There is dried blood crusting up the corner of my mouth and filling every crevice between my teeth. I’ll probably taste it for days … or weeks if he keeps coming back for more. His abuse feels like slipping back into a familiar schedule, it always starts out the same. He loves to attack my face first, backhanding me, followed by punches to the ribs. If I’m on the ground by then, he likes to finish it up with a couple kicks to the stomach, and occasionally, he’ll spit on me when I’m down. He’ll then take some time off, make sure I am in complete agony, but not to the point of passing out—that would be too good for me, no reprieves allowed—and then, just when I think he is done, he comes back for more. He likes to keep me on my toes.

So, what happened with all of the big Mage talk about using Binds in an attempt to get out of here and all that? Well, I’m guessing Binds don’t work when you’re so terrified that you’re on the verge of peeing yourself. It would make sense. It’s taken a fair amount of concentration to get them to work before, and it’s difficult to really focus on anything when a men’s size 11 hiking boot is coming towards your face. Now that I think about it, I’ve never even seen this motherfucker hike … apparently these are his kick-your-wife’s-teeth-in boots.

Anyway, once the beatings were done, I was put back into my cage, which I guess is his new holding spot for me. He used to lock me in my huge room, complete with a bathroom. Now I’m confined to a box. It’s a definite downgrade. He must be pretty mad.

At least I have company. Allie is still in the cage next to mine. It would appear that we are on opposite schedules for beatings. They take her away when they bring me back, and the only time shared in this vicinity is when one or the other of us is incapacitated by our injuries, and thus, communication has been kept to a minimum.

She did tell me, however, that they were trying to get information out of her about the SSA, but she was able to convince them that she was just a minor player and wasn’t aware of the operators of the game. She told me that it wasn’t Donovan who was chief overseer of her abuse but another Mage, one she described to be a pimply-faced teenager whose voice had not even reached maturity, did the interrogating. Apparently, this Mage is a Natural with the ability to control air because, besides the beatings she received, he also cut off her supply of oxygen every time she wouldn’t answer a question to their satisfaction.

Two details scare me about this. First, the kid ostensibly takes pride in his work, as Allie claimed that he looked amused while she struggled for breaths. Second, taking the kid’s age into consideration along with my own mounting thoughts and theories I’ve had while lying here broken, has forced me to come to the obvious conclusion. I know what the NWO have been doing with the children. Some have been made soldiers and some have been used for other purposes, but all of them have been conditioned to believe that what they are doing is right. I think about Jinx’s sister and Spencer’s daughter somewhere out there covered in the black shell of a uniform or being used as another form of weapon for Donovan and his father, and I feel a sick sense of dread for both of them. How can we fight a war when the opponent is made up of the people we love? It seems more and more impossible every day.