CHAPTER 7
Astrid
So anyways, I’m on my way to the Lightning Bolt.
Do I know where Anise lives? No. But, I do remember hearing the club mentioned when I was eavesdropping on her the other day.
So… yeah, I’m going to poke around. The box of notebooks and textbooks are safely secured in my trunk.
Once Anise agrees to help me, I’ll come get them. She will agree to help, right?
It’s been a bit since I’ve been to a club, so I am kind of excited to get all dressed up.
I’m wearing a white bandeau and a metallic navy skirt with stacked gold necklaces.
I didn’t go too crazy on my makeup, only a subtle amount of shimmer just in case the Water Weaver needs to appear.
There won’t be time to remove elaborate eyeshadow and lip gloss.
There’s a nervous butterfly in the pit of my stomach.
I’m going to see Anise again. Dare I say, this could be…
fun? I’m driving way over the speed limit, almost giddy.
I’m not usually like this. I’m calm and collected, not rushing headfirst into unknown situations.
I should stop, turn around, but my hatchback continues onwards.
The bass matches the beat of my heart as I walk into the club. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. I nervously smooth out the wrinkles of my skirt. The lights strobe in an ever-changing myriad of colors – red, pink, purple, green. I can see why Anise likes this place.
I see a flash of red across the way and dance across the floor. Oh, it’s not her. Another redhead! No dice. I must have made the rounds at least three times, and I’m getting discouraged. I wander over to the bar and lean against the counter.
“What can I get for you?” The bartender asks. He has his long brown hair in a loose ponytail, and sleeves rolled up to show off the bottom of a swirly tattoo.
“I’m looking for someone who sometimes hangs out here,” I confess. “But I can’t seem to find her. Her name is Sparks. She has red hair about to her shoulders. Have you seen her?”
“Huh, not ringing a bell.” The bartender cocks his head. “I can ask around. Do you want a drink while you wait?”
“Just water is fine.”
“You sure?” He sets down his towel and scans me up and down. “Nothing else?”
“I’m good.”
He walks away for a moment. I think he’s forgotten about my water, but I’d rather he looks for Sparks anyway. I lean against the bar and play with a napkin as I wait.
“My, you’ve had too much to drink,” an unfamiliar voice says. Before I can react, I feel a sharp prick in the back of my neck. “Let me help you find a cab.”
My legs go wobbly as the mystery man pulls my arm over his shoulders. He practically drags me as I fight against the blackness creeping over my vision. My arms go numb, I can’t feel my legs. Finally, my head lobs forward as I lose my battle and fall asleep.
I feel like my tongue has been replaced with sandpaper. I fight the urge to open my eyes. No, keep pretending you’re unconscious. Learn what you can to help you escape. Go down the senses.
Taste. What can I taste? Nothing, but that one’s normally a dud.
Smell. I breathe through my nose slowly, trying to not draw any attention. Bleach and copper. Oh god, I smell blood. Don’t panic. Three more senses.
Touch. For once, I’m glad to be in such skimpy clothing, as I can clearly feel the metal chair I’m sitting in.
It feels solid, not like a rickety folding chair.
I wonder if it’s bolted down. Either way, I’m stuck to this chair due to the zip ties around my wrists and ankles.
They are uncomfortably tight, but not so much that I’m losing circulation.
Sound. I’m not getting anything. I’m probably not in the club anymore, otherwise, I would be able to hear the bass.
This is not good.
I take the risk to open my eyes, leaving my head drooped against my chest. I can’t see much from here.
White laminate floors, white painted walls.
I see a drain in the floor behind me, possibly for easy clean up.
Unfortunately, that might be where the smell of blood is coming from.
I think I’ve learned all I can without “waking up.” I take a deep breath and lift my head.
Anise is lounging in the corner, hugging a knee to her chest. She’s sitting on a folding chair and reclining against a table covered with a bumpy sheet. I’m so glad Anise is here, she can help me get all of this mess sorted out.
My smile falters when I examine her more closely.
She’s wearing combat boots, cutoffs, and a black tank top.
Her left arm is bandaged and there is blood splatter along her hairline.
It looks like she was interrupted in the middle of her shower, since her hair is stringy and roughly towel dried.
Most disturbingly though are her eyes. All of their former light is gone.
In its place is resentment, bitterness, and maybe a bit of grief.
She’s staring at me as though she’s been sitting there for hours.
Perhaps a bit stupidly, I forget about the gravity of my own situation.
“Are you okay?” I ask. It hurts to see her like this. I thought she was happy and carefree, galivanting with her friends. But the Anise in front of me looks worse than the one I met all those months ago.
“You don’t get to ask me that.”
“I was looking for you.” Seems like a good place to start as any.
“You don’t get to do that either.” This is not going well. A beat passes. Then another.“Why are you here?”
“I need your help―” Anise scoffs before I can even finish my sentence.
“No.” Her voice is firm and decisive. “Anything else?”
“What happened to you?” I question, flabbergasted by her hostility. “The Anise I know would never act like this.”
“Don’t call me that!” She bristles at my tone. “I don’t go by Anise anymore, only Sparks now.”
“You once told me that name was given to you by someone who betrayed you.” I shake my head. “You can’t expect me to believe you want to use it again.”
“The person who called me Anise betrayed me worse.” Her voice is cold, unforgiving.
“That’s not fair.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“No, it wasn’t.” Her scorn is clear.
“You’re the one who was lying to me.” My voice cracks as I start to lose my composure. “I did what I had to.”
“I was protecting you.” She stands, her chair falling over from the abrupt movement. “Everything I did, everything that happened, was for you.”
“Your protection looks an awful lot like throwing others under the bus,” I snap. “Everyone would be better off if you weren’t involved.”
“Go ahead, say it,” she challenges.
“I had to go in blind, no planning.” I jerk in my restraints. “I could have done something.”
“That’s not what you meant.” There’s a tone of derisiveness in her voice. “Don’t be a fucking coward.”
“Fine! Jeremiah is dead!” Angry tears start to well up in my eyes. “My friend was murdered, and I was home twiddling my thumbs, all because you were scared.”
“You put an awful lot of blame on me while he was making his own decisions!” Anise screams, whatever hold she had on her temper long gone. “He knew he wasn’t making it out, but he chose to stay!”
“You didn’t even know him!” My throat is raw, but I couldn’t be bothered. “He was my friend!”
“I was being tortured too! Do you ever think about that?” Her hands clutch her stomach as she subconsciously curls her shoulders defensively. She scrunches her eyes shut and I can almost see the phantom wounds on her body. “I don’t think you do.”
She’s right. I don’t. I can’t. That night is too painful, even without picturing what happened on that boat.
“I killed a man.” Big, fat tears roll down my cheeks. “I don’t know how to live with that.”
“No, you didn’t.” Anise’s voice turns cold as her face goes blank. No anger, no resentment, just a vacancy behind her eyes.
“What?” I sniffle, confused. “What do you mean?”
“He survived,” she states like a catatonic doll. “Don’t worry though, I shot him. He’s dead now. I killed him.” Her hand brushes the residual blood splatter on her hairline, and she stares at the red coating her fingertips.
“Anise…”
“It’s Sparks!” She snaps out of her stupor. “So there you go, you can stop bitching and moaning about your tarnished moral report card. You’re in the clear again.”
“Ani― Sparks, I don’t think you’re okay.”
“No shit, detective,” she retorts. “But you lost the right to worry about me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply softly. “I still do. I haven’t stopped.”
Sparks take a breath, and I can see her body reset. Her mask slips on and I just know, I’ve lost Anise. The thought breaks my heart a little more than it already was.
“What do you want?” She asks. “Why are you here?”
“I went to Synergy Labs and I―”
Sparks holds up a hand. I stop mid-sentence.
“Excuse me, I must have misheard you.” A maniacal laugh slips out of her lips.
“Or else I must be hallucinating, because to me, it sounds like you said you went to Synergy Labs and that can’t be the case.
It couldn’t be. I mean, they are only responsible for every shitty thing that has literally ever happened to me, including the colossal fuck up that was me and you.
So I swear to fucking god, if I just heard that you null and voided everything I went through to keep you safe by visiting it like a goddamn field trip, I am going to lose my shit. ”
Sparks stares at me. I am too scared to say anything. She walks over and crouches in front of me.
“Now is the time where you tell me I misheard you,” she coaches.
“I don’t think the explosion was an accident,” I whisper.
Sparks stands up suddenly and faces the wall.
I notice she has a gun tucked into the waistband of her shorts, and I am now deeply regretting my decision to come.
Without warning, she grabs the edge of the table and throws it.
Several metal instruments clatter to the ground as the sheet billows gently.
Screwdrivers, meat tenderizers, pliers, knives.
This… this is a torture room. Oh god. I feel the blood drain from my face.
Sparks kicks the upturned table in frustration. She runs her hands through her hair.
Sparks turns to me exasperated. She gestures vehemently and I flinch, ducking my head. I hold my breath, bracing against the incoming blow. But it doesn’t happen. I cautiously open my eyes. She’s standing there crestfallen. I’ve never seen her in such anguish.
“You thought I was going to hurt you?” She says feebly. I can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement, but I can’t think of a response either way. “I would never. Astrid, I…”
She looks around at the havoc strewn across the floor. Without another word, she turns and walks out of the room.