Splinter Effect

With The Dawn

The alley reeked of old Chinese food, urine and a combination of other popular activities that occur in alleyways behind nightclubs in Los Angeles. A door opened and the grizzled man responsible for the Chinese food came out wearing jeans, a dirty wife-beater, and a grease-stained apron, personifying every cliche of the middle aged Chinese restaurant owner. He dragged a large, aluminum garbage can out behind him, over to the dumpster,  gathered up his strength and hefted the can over the top, repeatedly banging it against the container rim to make sure he loosed all of the filth from inside.

Maryn awoke with a start at the pain. The back of her head throbbed from the vibrations and repeated sound of something crashing into the dumpster against which her head was resting. Her mind swam with half formed images of thumping techno and shots of Stoli. A final bang on the side of the dumpster pulled her from her swimming thoughts.

"Holy shit!" Pain exploded behind her eyes as she attempted to open them. Fortunately the banging stopped. Unfortunately for her, the grease stained man insulting her parentage in Cantonese had only just begun. She raised her hands to the man in a placating gesture.

"Wǒ xiànzài zǒu, hěnduō dàoqiàn" she told the man by way of apology and started trying to get to her feet. Her first attempt failed but the man had at least stopped yelling at her and was leaving.

'Okay Cain, SITREP' she coaxed herself and started her mental status report.

Her clothes were still on, which was a good start. She wore a familiar pair of low-riding faded denim jeans, plunging gray clubbing top and her black three inch Louboutin heels. Her clothes had obtained a myriad of scuffs and she was beginning to feel the matching bruises making her wonder what the hell had happened last night. She'd never been a prude when it came to drinking and partying; but this?

She flinched as her hand found the tender lump on the back of her head and her fingers came away with evidence of dried blood. She closed her eyes to focus, having a hard time recalling much past the actual partying.

'Great.' She thought to herself, 'a concussion is exactly what I needed.'

With the efficiency of a skipping DVD she stepped quickly through the memories, stopping only on the interesting bits. Ryan had called when she was getting ready to go out clubbing; he had said he needed to talk to her about something. She had met the tall, rough around the edges and roguishly handsome Scotsman at Delight, a popular club on the west side. There had been drinking, talk about some woman Ryan had been seeing, and more drinking.

Another throb from the back of her head returned her to the moment and the smell of the new garbage reached her nostrils, threatening to reveal the contents of her stomach. It smelled like something had died a week ago, and been dressed up in szechuan curry and kung pao sauce hoping someone would eat it without noticing.

Maryn pulled herself to her feet and fought down the inevitable wave of nausea. 'Just breathe.' She repeated the well practiced mantra to herself and took slow deep breaths until the nausea passed. She steadied herself against the dumpster trying to gather enough balance, that didn't work so she took off her heels and tried again before opening her eyes in anticipation of the accompanying dizziness. She mentally checked off the presence of her phone cash and keys she had concealed covertly on her person; she pulled out her phone, noticed six missed calls from Davis.

"Oh god, he's gonna kill me." She said to no-one save the large rat currently chewing through some moldy cheese on the ground by her feet.

Walking gingerly around the detritus and out to the street, she tried to remember how she had gotten into the alley in the first place. Flashes of memory told the story of a late night of drinking with Ryan who had wanted advice on how to handle a woman. She couldn't recall anything he had said. Then the memory of a tall blonde and trip to the ladies room flashed through her mind and the recollection made her head pound unbearably. Davis' fury would have to wait, home, a bath and coffee, perhaps not in that exact order, were the only things on her priority list.

* * * * *

Ryan woke to the chill of something cold pressing against his face. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking several times to try and clear the blurriness. He tried to raise a hand to rub his eyes, but found the restraints on his wrists wouldn't allow it.

"Welcome back, Mr Duffy." The hand holding the ice pack against his bruised cheek pulled it away long enough for him to see the speaker's face. The recognition was instant--it was the same man who had been so persuasive the night before, in the meat-like fists treating his face like a side of beef sense.

"Hey there. Long time no see," Ryan's words came out far more slurred than they had formed in his mind.

The face just smiled. "The drugs will wear off soon. And sorry about the shiner. You and your friend put up quite the fight. She's a scrapper that one, and feisty." Face let out a small growl of appreciation which made Ryan want to reciprocate the facial damage.

"Where is she?" Ryan slurred.

Face's only response was a shrug and a smug grin.

"I'll just go tell the boss that you've woken up," he said. "Make yourself at home."

Face walked out of the room, pausing for a moment to whisper something to a large burly man standing at the door, leaving Ryan to make himself as comfy as possible while tied to a chair in a concrete room--with a powerful need to pee.

**** Author's note ****

Thank you so much for giving me a chance to share this Journey with you.

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