One Blood

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Friday

Location Unknown

Karen Lafitte was lost in an unfamiliar forest. Fear drove her forward as she ran toward the light shimmering through the branches like a beacon.

Arriving at the forest’s edge, she saw that the light was coming from a large house in the clearing. Less than twenty feet away, a man stood with his back to her wearing an orange fleece sweater and blue jeans. The man aimed a shotgun at something in the distance.

Instinct commanded Karen to stay put. She held her breath, afraid to make the slightest sound.

The hunter pulled the trigger on his shotgun. The backfire boomed like an explosion.

What is he shooting at?

The hunter prepared to fire again, then suddenly turned and glared in Karen’s direction as if he’d heard her thoughts.

Karen ducked. She was shocked to discover that the hunter was her father. Her brother Kristopher was nailed to a post thirty feet away.

A large, bullet-riddled target was painted on Kristopher’s chest, his face contorted in a twisted scream.

Karen’s legs went numb and she crumpled to the ground.

“Get the fuck up, bitch, before you make me hurt you,” her father growled. “Get up right now!” 

Karen blinked her eyes open, the strange dream seared away by a bright white light assaulting her sensitive irises. She squeezed her watering eyelids shut to protect them. She heard a click and the light disappeared.

 “’Bout goddamn time. You could sleep through fuckin’ World War III. Been tryin’ to wake your tired ass up for the past five minutes.”

“Why’s it so dark?” Karen asked, shivering. She felt an unnatural grogginess, similar to the waking effects of the sleeping pills she “borrowed” from her mother from time to time. “Where am I?”

The last thing she remembered, other than the fading dream, was speeding down Freeman Road on Jess’s Honda Ninja. Karen had really gotten into the biker scene last year and had become a fairly capable rider. When she was on a bike, everything fell into place. She could usually outrun her worries—with the exception of her number one concern, her eighteenth birthday. Or “cursed-day” as Kristopher had christened it.

When Mom told her about the spa appointment, Karen saw it as another opportunity to do something she wanted to do today. It was her birthday after all, not theirs. Jess was happy to take her massage appointment; she could never afford such pampering on her own. All Jess had to do was sign in under Karen’s name. No one would be the wiser.

“You betta stop axin’ questions and start followin’ directions, bitch, or somethin’ bad gone happen to you.” Big, abrasive hands pulled her into a sitting position.

“Don’t touch me!”

She tried to squirm out of his grasp but was slammed against a rough wall that cut into the flesh of her back. Her arms were tied and left to rest in her lap. Frightened at the echo of her desperate cries, she sobbed uncontrollably. “Please let me go. Please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Flashlight Man chuckled. “You’re damn skippy,” he said. “I’m gone give you some ground rules now. Rule number one, keep your fuckin’ mouth shut. Rule number two—”

“What do you want with me?” Karen wailed.

“It’s not you we want,” he whispered.

If not me, then who?

An internal alarm went off. Ever since Kristopher’s death, Dad had warned Karen to be careful.

“People will try to hurt me by hurting those I love most. All it takes is one slip up.”

Her father was convinced that Kristopher brought on his demise by making that ill-fated trip to Simmons Park that day. That’s why he’d hired the extra security. Guards she became increasingly adept at duping and ducking over the years, and today was no exception.

A cold hand touched her thigh.

“Get away from me!” Karen twisted her head in all directions trying to see in the pitch black.

“See, there you go violatin’ rule number one and it ain’t even been an hour yet.”

“You won’t get away with this! My daddy—” 

The slap came out of nowhere, like the darkness itself had assaulted her, snapping her head into the wall. Her teeth clamped down on her tongue, filling her mouth with the coppery taste of warm blood mixed with saliva.

“Which leads me to rule number two. I’m yo’ daddy now. You do what I say, when I say, and you’ll be aight. If not, I’ll be forced to beat you like yo’ daddy, you understand?” 

Karen barely heard, much less understood. She swallowed some of her coppery flavored blood and her stomach quivered in near revolt.

“And rule number three: If you don’t want to end up dead, don’t try to escape. You take whatever I give you and don’t give me any shit. I don’t give a fuck if you’re scared of the dark, needles, or if you don’t like to swallow pills. You take that shit like a good little girl, and we’ll be aight. Aight?”  

She felt him tie a thick rubber band around her upper left arm.

The flashlight beam played on her arm as her oppressor pulled something out of his pocket. With the light out of her eyes she was able to make out a rotund black man of medium height. His face was not nearly as menacing as his voice, but his pitch black eyes held no trace of warmth.

“This gone sting for a second. Don’t scream or make no sudden movements or I might miss the vein. We got to get you ready for the ceremony.”

Ceremony?

Karen clenched her jaw in protest as the needle entered her flesh. She closed her eyes. She was usually the one giving the injections, not receiving them.

* * * * *

When Dad had fallen sick, the home care nurses taught her how to switch out his I.V.’s on nights when they weren’t there. Her nerves were so wracked the first time that she dropped four needles. Nevertheless, Dad calmed her down. He didn’t yell even once, although she saw how he flinched each time she inserted a new needle.

Soon she could switch them out so swiftly Dad claimed not to notice. It had felt good being able to take care of him. Kristopher was gone and Mom was useless in her drug-induced fog. There was no way she was going to let Dad die and leave her alone with her mother.

* * * * *

Flashlight Man said something else.

Karen couldn’t hear him over the bass drum pounding of her heartbeat.

Flashlight Man shook and then smacked her again.

Karen felt disconnected from reality. Hypnotized by the flashlight’s beam – the sole source of illumination – the drug’s effects took hold. The light became her sun and she bathed in its warmth as it melted the ropes that bound her physical self. Nothing could hold her now because she was flying.