The Betrothed
Part 31

The Star Bar was a small, dark, one-room club, not exactly what Darrick had had in mind when he had suggested clubbing, not really matching the tales Darrick had heard of crowded, loud clubs filled with pulsating music and flashing lights, but Carmen had said that it was the only real option in walking distance. A band played on the stage at the center of the room, while two bars to either side served customers looking either to quench their thirst or further their inebriation. Still, the band was decent, and the floor before them filled with gyrating bodies, so Darrick supposed that was good enough.

He and Carmen had been dancing for what felt like either hours or minutes, Darrick wasn’t quite certain. Flailing wildly about had provided the perfect outlet for his pent-up energy, and he had lost himself in the sheer physicality of motion, at times losing his contact with the outside world completely, dancing more to the flashes of color and images in his head than to any outside stimulus. It was a completely new situation for him, and he had not known that anything could be so exhilarating. Though he had to wonder just how much the small pill Carmen had given him on their arrival had to do with the experience, and if he could get more.

Also exhilarating were the moves Carmen was making just in front of him, and sometimes directly on him. Sure, Abby could be forward sometimes, but she had never shown the kind of raw lust that Carmen projected in every gyration. Even now, her arms were around his neck and her thigh pressed into his, the motions of the dance producing a very pleasant friction that only added to Darrick’s wild energy. The look in her eyes left little to Darrick’s imagination. Again, a little voice deep in Darrick’s soul protested, pleading with him to run away as quickly as he could, run back to his wife’s side and take care of her. But, as before, the voice was easily ignored, even more so because a new voice suddenly spoke up, sounding to Darrick almost like a whisper in the ear, so real he didn’t know if it came from inside him or out.

Take her.

“What?” Darrick said, startled. “Who said that?” His voice was swallowed whole by the band’s volume.

“What did you say?” Carmen asked, her mouth right by his ear, her breath warm.

Take her now. Abby doesn’t ever have to find out. It’ll be fun.

“I . . . I can’t,” he said. Yes, he was angry at Abby, and dancing was one thing, but he couldn’t go all the way with this girl. Could he?

You want her. You’ve always wanted her. Take her.

“You trying to say something, honey?” Carmen said. “Why don’t we go outside and talk about it?” The motion her leg made against his made it fairly obvious what kind of “talking” she had in mind. Carmen took his hand and led him out the front door and around to the dark parking lot out back behind the club, pulling him into the shadows against the wall. Immediately she was on him, her body pressed fully against his and her lips on his lips, then at his neck. Darrick felt heat like he had never felt before, not even during his wedding night with Abby, and his conscious mind was swallowed up in sensation, his only thoughts coming from that voice still whispering in his ear, urging him onwards. His hands moved down her blouse to the zipper of her jeans, where they were stopped by a playful slap.

“Now, now, Darrick,” Carmen said teasingly, “don’t you know you’re supposed to let the girl set the pace? We’ll get there soon enough.” She laughed, a low chuckle in her throat.

The slap was nothing, a playful tap; to most guys at most times, it would have been more of an encouragement than otherwise. But that, added to her apparent rejection, faux though it was, switched something in Darrick. The voice which before had urged him on to carnal pleasures now pushed him towards very different emotions. And soon it was joined by even more voices.

Watch out! She doesn’t want you! She wants to kill you! Kill you, rob you. She wants Abby for her own!

Oooh, that’s hot. Maybe she’ll let you watch.

It’s a setup! They’ve been working together! Abby wanted you to go out with Carmen tonight so she could take you out of the picture! You’ve seen the looks they give each other!

Abby likes to listen to Carmen at night.

They’ve been meeting behind your back!

Darrick roughly shoved Carmen away, gasping in sensory overload at he held his head in both hands, almost falling to his knees in the unexpected onslaught.

“Get out!” he screamed. “Get out of my head!” Carmen, frightened, took a cautious step back towards him, but she stopped when his head shot back up, and a look of terror seized her features.

“Get away from me,” Darrick snarled, his voice almost bestial. He felt like a small animal stalked by a predator. “Go away or I’ll kill you. I know what you want. Go!” Without a word, Carmen ran off, her own muffled cries of fear fading quickly into the noise of the bar beside them. But even with her gone, the voices would not go away.

They’re all out to get you. Your parents, Abby, all the Atlanteans – they’re plotting together. You’re walking right into their trap. They can track you with the bond! They put it in you to keep tabs on you. You have to outrun it! You have to get away, run away, where they’ll never find you. Can’t go back home. Must run. Find safety. Find hiding place. Hide until they forget you. Live your own life. Can’t let them control you. Then you can make them all pay. Run!

Darrick obeyed, running off into the night, through the streets of Little Five Points where the Star Bar was located. He ran through traffic lights and over the homeless beggars sitting on the sidewalks. He was barely aware of them. The world melted and ran together in his sight, a mass of color and lights and darkness. Every person he passed was a potential assassin, sent by Carmen and Abby to do him in, or an informant, sent by the Atlanteans to track him down. Soon, he began to scream as he ran, hiding his face from passers-by so they couldn’t kill him or report him. Must hide! Hide! was all he could think, and his legs obeyed this simple compulsion, instinctively taking him along paths he had followed many times before.

Finally, he reached a place that felt familiar. He did not recognize it in the dark and twisted place the world had become, but it felt right to him. Felt safe. There was something here that whispered to him of home and love and hope. Of good memories. He lay down and curled into the smallest ball he could, hoping to evade their gaze, hoping the goodness of this place would shelter him from harm. Soon, his consciousness faded, his last thoughts retreating deep into himself from the terrifying place the outside world had become.

* * * * *

Carmen ran back towards the house as fast as she could, still not quite believing what had just happened. We were just having some fun. That’s all. What made him go so crazy? Did he have some kind of weird reaction to the Ecstasy I gave him? But I’ve never seen anyone on X act like that before. In the end, though, it didn’t matter. She had to get back to the house and tell Angela what had happened. She would get rid of both him and his stuck-up prig of a wife in a instant if she thought he was a danger to her other boarders. Her pursuit had been fun while it had lasted, but she knew when to call it quits.

Her cell phone rang in her purse. Slowing to a walk – to the great relief of her burning chest – she took it out and checked the Caller ID, hoping that it wasn’t Darrick trying to apologize for his unforgivable behavior. She didn’t think the number was his, though she didn’t recognize it, so she answered.

“Hello. May I please speak with Darrick Knight?” said the polite, cultured male voice on the other end. Polite or not, though, Carmen was in no place to deal with anyone who would have anything to do with Darrick. Her fear was rapidly transmuting to anger, and this stranger made as good of a target for it as anyone.

“Is this that friend of his he called earlier?” she nearly yelled into the receiver. “I’ll have you know that Darrick just nearly attacked me. Your friend is crazy!”

“I’m very sorry about that,” the voice said soothingly. “I’m not the friend he called earlier, but I am his friend, and I’m very concerned about him. He’s very sick, and he needs our help. Can you tell us where he is?”

“Sick, yeah, that’s one way to put it,” Carmen said in a huff. “I left him at the bar, but I don’t know if he’s still there. I doubt it.”

“What about Abigail Martin? Do you know her? Where she would be?”

“You mean Darrick’s wife, Abby?” Martin, huh? I’ll bet they’re not really married. Miss Holier-than-Thou isn’t so holy after all. “I’m sure she’s still at the house, wallowing in self-pity.”

“Can you give me the address?”

“Why should I?” Carmen asked, suddenly suspicious. “I don’t know who you are. Maybe you’re one of Darrick’s crazy buddies. I’m not telling you where we live.”

“Give me the address.” The words reverberated in Carmen’s ears and through her head, touching something deep inside of her with an irresistible command. Before she knew what she was doing, she was rattling off the address for the boarding house. Only after she had finished did she realize what she had done; she knew she should be frightened by it, or at least disturbed, but she couldn’t seem to summon up the emotion.

“Thank you,” the voice continued. “We will be there within a few hours to get both of them. You have been of inestimatable service, young lady. Good-bye.” The phone went dead. Carmen looked at it for a few seconds, uncertain of what had just transpired, then remembered what she had been doing before. She started off once more at a run, determined to get back home and report to Angela before Darrick returned.

* * * * *

Angela was shaking Abby, hoping desperately for some response, when Jimmy and Carmen walked into the room, followed by a small crowd of strangers – an older gentleman, two pairs of middle-aged men and women, and a young man and woman. The resemblance of several of the newcomers to Darrick and Abby were clear, and all doubt of their relationship to her two young borders were erased when one of the middle-aged women gasped and ran quickly to Abby’s side.

“Abigail!” she cried, falling down to her knees next to the couch, examining Abby quickly for signs of consciousness and, like Angela, finding none. “Oh, my baby girl, what have you done to yourself?!” Taking Abby’s head in her arms, she wept over her as the others approached more slowly.

“Jimmy,” Angela asked as she stood, “what’s going on here?” Though she thought she could guess the answer pretty well. Looks like the family she ran away from finally caught up with her, and just in time for this. I wish I knew if that were a good thing or a bad one. Before Jimmy had a chance to respond, the other older woman stepped forward and quickly scanned the room.

“Do you know where Darrick is?” she demanded. “Where’s my son?”

“Slow down, Cynthia,” the elder, white-haired man said. “You heard what Carmen told us.” But neither Cynthia nor Angela heard his gentle rebuke. As soon as Angela heard this woman, this intruder, refer to Darrick as her son, she knew what she had to say.

“Some mother you are,” Angela said angrily, standing toe to toe with Cynthia, whose expression only grew darker with the remark. “Your son is a monster! Did you raise him to beat on women?” Cynthia’s eyebrows drew downward, but the older man stepped between both of them, forcing them apart.

“Calm down, Cynthia,” he said, with a hand on her shoulder. Cynthia’s fury did not abate.

“You heard what she said, Richard,” she hissed, not taking her eyes from Angela. “She said Darrick –”

“I heard,” he said as soothingly as possible. “And it’s probably true.” Cynthia turned her glare on him, but he didn’t back down, though he visibly had to stop himself from stepping back. “It’s not his fault, Cynthia, and you know it.” He turned to look at Angela. “Darrick isn’t a monster, ma’am. He and Abby both are under more stress than you can comprehend, more than any of us could stand. But we can help them both.”

“Stress is no excuse for what he did,” Angela stated, standing firm. “And it wasn’t just the slap, though that would have been enough. He then decided to go out on the town with that floozy.” She pointed an accusing finger at Carmen, who looked as though she wanted to sink into the wall behind her. Angela made an instantaneous decision. “I want you out of the house tonight, young lady. I don’t care what you do with your own life, but I will not tolerate making trouble with my guests.” She turned to Cynthia as Carmen slunk out of the door. “And the same goes for your son, as soon as he turns up.” She walked back to Abby’s side, addressing her parents, both of who were now hovering anxiously over their daughter, oblivious to all else in the room. “Abby can stay as long as she wants. Rent free. I just want to see her recover.”

“Abigail will not be staying,” the man who was obviously her father said. “As soon as she is cured, she will be returning with us.” To the cult, Angela thought, but she didn’t know what she could do about it. Well, maybe if they really can fix her, she’ll be able to stay on her own.

“Speaking of which,” Richard said impatiently, cutting in, “I can only fix them both if I have both of them here. Carmen said that he was still at the bar when she left him, correct. We’ll start there. If he’s gone, we’ll split up into teams to find him. Someone should stay here in case Darrick comes back.” He turned to the young woman. “Meredith, could you stay and wait?”

“Of course,” she said with a solemn nod, moving over to Abby’s side. “I want to keep an eye on Abby anyway.”

“Wouldn’t it be better for one of us to stay?” Abby’s mother said, gesturing at herself and her husband. “Or maybe even both? I don’t want to leave my daughter.” Richard shook his head.

“I don’t think it’s safe for Meredith to be going out. She has little experience with the outside world, and Atlanta at night is no place for a young, inexperienced woman.” The woman started to protest, but Richard cut it short with an upraised hand. “No, it’s better for her to be the one to stay behind. Trust me, Jessica; you will be doing Abby far more good by searching for Darrick than by staying behind.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Jimmy said, nodding his approval. “I’ll go with you.” But Richard shook his head.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” he said. “We can handle things from here. Darrick and Abby are both our family, either figuratively or literally, and this is family business.” Angela wasn’t about to stand still for that.

“Now, listen here, mister,” she said, walking over to stand beside Jimmy in a show of solidarity. “We’re all family here, too. I don’t know what you people have been doing with either of them for their entire lives, but I’m not going to let you barge in here and push us out of the way. Jimmy and I care about Darrick and Abby too, and we want to see them safe just as much as you. Besides, we know this area of town, and I’m guessing you don’t. We’re coming too.” Richard sighed in response, and made a peculiar request of Abby’s father.

“Anthony,” he asked, “what are the latest news reports saying?” Anthony took a phone out of his pocket – one of those new fancy ones that could go online and looked like just a single smooth piece of plastic – and ran his fingers across the screen a few times.

“North Korea is threatening to fire its nukes on the South and Japan if the U.S. doesn’t withdraw all of its troops immediately.” His voice was calm on the surface, but his furrowed brow and tight lips betrayed his tension. “They’re claiming that they even have rockets than can reach California. The U.S. is saying they’ll retaliate if they detect so much as a single launch, and China is saying that they’ll fire back on us if we do.” No one else had been speaking, but as soon as Anthony finished, the quality of the silence changed. The room felt dead, frozen, everyone reflecting on the implications of what they had just heard.

“Do you hear that?” Richard asked, rhetorically and – Angela felt – completely unnecessarily. “World War Three is about to start. Our time is running out. We no longer have time to bicker or fight amongst ourselves. There are larger things at stake.”

“So why are we even bothering with my sister or her outsider husband?” the young man finally spoke up, arms crossed in a sulk. “The world’s about to end. We’re all going to be dead anyway. So why do we care if they go a little bit before the rest of us?”

“Be quiet, Patrick,” his father ordered. “It matters.”

“Why?” Patrick replied insolently.

“Because –” Anthony began, and then choked off, fingers rising to his throat as his mouth silently dropped open. Richard stepped in smoothly.

“Because it does,” he said. “Because it doesn’t matter if the world is ending around you. You still have to take care of the ones you love. And that—” he turned to Angela and Jimmy – “is why you can’t come with us. We may all have only a few moments left. Call your families, your children or grandchildren. Spend your last few moments with them.” Angela’s mouth opened instinctively to dispute, but the sense of what he said struck her. If the world was about to end, she should take the time to call her siblings and tell them she loved them, to say good-bye. She saw Jimmy nod as he obviously came to the same conclusion. But she wasn’t going to abandon the situation completely.

“You will let us know when you find him,” she said, a statement, not a request. If Darrick really was just sick and not a bastard, she wanted to be sure that both he and Abby were okay, even if the world went up in flames five minutes later. This really could be the end, couldn’t it? Strangely, she did not find the thought as terrifying as she would have assumed. She’s lived through scares before, and if this time turned out to be the real McCoy . . . well, she’d had a good life, hadn’t she?

“Of course we will,” Richard said as he waved them out. He continued to speak to the others as the door closed behind them. “You heard what Anthony said. We have no time to lose . . .”