Disenchantment 37

They left the shower area walked into the break room, which had a window that allowed a little of the outside light into the room. “You’re going to have to hold the flashlight,” said Hornblende. “I know it’s awkward. You don’t have to look, but you have to keep the light on the wound.”

 

“I don’t mind looking. Shit, that does look bad. It doesn’t feel very pretty either.”

 

“This isn’t going to feel like getting laid,” Hornblende said, then looked the other man in the eyes, “Or in your case, it isn’t going to feel like drinking.” Hornblende had gotten a first aid kit before they had come into the room. He also had a pair of scissors, since he hadn’t found any razors, and a pair of pliers he grabbed from the janitorial closet. “I’m no doctor, Mr. Nicastro, but I’ll do my best.”

 

Hornblende first put rubbing alcohol over the entire wound, and then wiped down the scissors and the pliers with the liquid. Nicastro didn’t even flinch when the cool solution was applied to his skin and Hornblende knew that it had to hurt. “Feel anything?” he asked.

 

“I think you know I do.”

 

“It’s good you’re being a man about it. It’s also good you feel something. That means it’s not all completely dead flesh.” The needle of the barb was shaped similar to a fish hook that was designed to penetrate the skin and then stay there. Usually, people who were tased were required to go to the hospital to have the barbs surgically removed. A tiny snip of skin and a pull on the pliers removed the first one, but the second was much deeper. Not only the needle part, but the entire barb, including the thick cylindrical part, had disappeared underneath Nicastro’s skin. That had probably occurred, along with the infection, due to the fact that no one had bothered to take the man to the hospital. “This part is going to need a little more cutting.”

 

“Okay, cut away then.” Nicastro grinned.

 

Hornblende sighed, and then cut the tissue above where he saw the barb between the skin and the back of the ribcage. It didn’t cut like flesh, but reminded Hornblende of cutting through a pancake, almost no resistance at all. It didn’t crumble like a pancake, probably because of the thick dark yellow pus that oozed out of the wound. A new pungent odor came out with the pus. He used the pliers to remove the object, then wiped the area again with alcohol. As he gently wiped it, a thick hunk of necrotic skin came off, revealing what looked like healthy muscle beneath it. Instead of cleaning the area again with any sort of applied pressure, he just poured the alcohol on it, afraid to rip away any more skin. He then firmly pressed a large piece of gauze against the wound, and used medical tape to keep it there.

 

Mark’s face remained impassive the entire time. As they made eye contact again, Hornblende realized he was dealing with a man that could withstand an incredible amount of physical pain, but apparently not so much in the way of emotional pain. “Done?” asked the patient of the pseudo doctor.

 

“Yeah, but as I said, I am not a medical professional. I really think you need to see a doctor. I’m betting some antibiotics wouldn’t hurt either.”

 

“That shower felt great. The removal of those barbs...much less so. I could really use some food.”

 

“Finish your tale,” said Hornblende as he got up to wash his hands, then began rummaging through the cupboards

 

Mark began to tell him of the meeting that they had held in January, when Hornblende interrupted him. “You know, I was there for that meeting, watching you all from outside. Why are you spending time with that Malbourne, and Benson, the guy who was the number one suspect in your kid’s disappearance?”

 

“For Oren, he did so much for me at that time, and pretty much the rest of my life as well. Did you all know any more than you told me at the time, about Benson?”

 

“No, but I always trust my gut. Still, there was never any proof that he had anything to do with the disappearance of your child, Mattie.”

 

“You remember his name?”

 

“I remember all the kids’ names. All the missing and forgotten, I remember them all because it sometimes seems that no one else will.”

 

Mark seemed on the verge of some emotion, then with a concentrated effort, he sighed, and continued. “Yeah, well that Floyd Benson guy knows his shit about ancient gods and religions.”

 

“I found some coffee. Would you like some?”

 

“Sure, if there’s no booze. Also, it needs to be quick. I really need to get going.”

 

“Aha,” said Hornblende after reaching farther back into one of the cupboards. “Look what I found. Do you like Snickers?”

 

“Sure, fuck yeah. I was about to eat that piece of rotting skin you ripped off my back. But, I thought you guys liked donuts.”

 

“Very funny, Mr. Nicastro.” Hornblende said without a hint of humor in his voice. “Finish your tale.”

 

And so he did. Treasuring an average-sized Snickers bar in a building that housed five fresh corpses, Mark told him of the meeting, of the theories stated and conclusions drawn, of the arrogance of Malbourne and the defiance of Nannette. He then proceeded to tell the detective of the budding relationship between himself and the young woman, what happened on the night of her death, his horrible behavior at his job the next day, and the downward spiral he had been in ever since, including the first two nights on the side of the road with Oren and his behavior at Oren’s house toward the kid, Justin. He ended with the death of Eddie and the beating of Hector. “Say, do you have any records of that? Did Hector survive?”

 

“We haven’t been keeping the best of records lately. If there was something, it would be on the computers and we have no power.”

 

“I think I feel bad about that. I’m not very sure that he even hurt Eddie. I hope he’s okay.”

 

Hornblende shrugged. “There have been so many casualties lately, and it’s only a war with nature that we chose to fight amongst ourselves when we should be on the same side, or maybe it all has something to do with the ancient Greek gods, huh?”

 

“You took out that guy that killed Nannette. Right? Do you feel bad about that?”

 

“Mr. Nicastro, there are some people that I believe don’t need to breathe the same air as the rest of us.” Hornblende put two guns on the table and began taking them apart, his actions quick and methodical.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I haven’t cleaned ‘em in a while.”

 

“Why do you need two guns?”

 

“Good question. See this one here? It’s a standard issue for most police officers, a Glock twenty-two. It can hold fifteen rounds, and it’s quite reliable. It needs to be kept very clean, or it can jam.”

 

“The other one?”

 

“That’s my baby, thirty-eight special. She will never jam on me. Look, with the other one, it’s highly reliable, but I had her jam on me twice at the range. My baby won’t jam on me.”

 

“Okay,” said Mark, seemingly starting to lose interest.

 

“You see, the Glock, she’s got more parts, and they’re more fragile. She can hold more rounds, but I always worry about her jamming on me, the spring, the cartridge, even bad ammo sometimes, or if she stovepipes. But this,” he said, pointing to a part of the snub-nosed thirty-eight revolver. “The firing pin, if she looks good, then she won’t jam.”

 

“Never?”

 

“She won’t jam on me.”

 

“I need to get going.”

 

“Okay,” said Hornblende. “Give me a minute.”

 

Nicastro began walking back toward the showers. “Bye. Thanks for letting me out.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I told you that was my favorite shirt. It can be washed.”

 

“If you survive the night, you can come back and get it. You are absolutely not taking that disgusting, smelly thing with you in my car.”

 

“In your car?”

 

“Yeah, I’m coming with you.”

 

Mark seemed quite taken aback. “That’s great. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get there. Do you think we can try and stop somewhere and maybe scrounge up a bottle of something on the way?”

 

“No.”

 

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

 

“Awaken Persephone,” came the voice of her lover.

 

And then she did. She felt refreshed, relaxed, like she had had the best night’s sleep ever. “Hayden,” she whispered.

 

“I’m here, my love.” He was, in all his glory, almost inhumanly handsome, sexually alluring, perfect to look upon.

 

She began to get aroused, just looking at him, but something in her mind was unusual, not quite the way she was used to feeling. “What’s wrong? I feel different.”

 

“You’ve been released. My beautiful wife, your memories will start coming back now. They will come slowly, so as not to frighten you, but you will begin to remember, your life before me.”

 

Daeira glared at her from the other side of the room, opposite her luxurious bed, standing perfectly still until Hayden spoke to her.

 

“Daeira, please help the queen prepare herself.” Hayden’s voice was powerful and soft at the same time, with a nuance of glee in it.

 

“She’s a mortal.”

 

“Daeira, help the queen,” said Hayden. The power had increased, the softness was barely audible, and his voice had lost any sense of glee.

 

Perry realized that the other woman didn’t like her. On some level, she had already known that, but it seemed more important now, more like it should exert more influence on her in some way. That hadn’t bothered her before. Her body had just woken up from several hours of sleep, but it felt like her mind had woken up from several months of sleep. Clarity was returning, a sense of self, a sense of dread, as her former belief in responsibility was returning to her, and it was uncomfortable.

 

“I don’t like this. I want to go back to the way I was.”

 

“Of course you do my, love. It feels better. I want you to feel better as it makes me feel better. However, you need to make a choice. Remember I told you this some time ago.”

 

“Yes, I remember.”

 

“You are going to need to make a conscious decision, and for that, you need to have your mortal, conscious mind back.”

 

She pouted for a moment before she realized she was being childish. “I feel like I’m learning how to think again, and the thought process is so young.”

 

“I told you it would come back slowly. Yes, your emotions and intellect are being reborn in a way. It’s the best way, the most comfortable. Trust me, it can be quite a shock if it all flooded back at once.” His dark eyes looked directly into hers. There was a warmth in them, but a deep darkness too, that was unnerving. Again, it was always there, but she was realizing that it might be important now. “You can always return to the pleasant outlook once you have made your choice to stay, or you can go back to the stresses and strains of the world above, the world you should leave.”

 

“How long until I can choose to go back, back to the way I was?”

 

Hayden smiled. It was both warm and cold, those dark eyes ever upon her. He was looking a bit less like Hayden too. “Not long, my love. We are about to entertain some guests.”