Nancy Screw and the Coming of Age (18+) Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Call

Nancy had felt release about the time Billy had. And now she was alone on her bed, looking up at the ceiling and other, more interesting surroundings displayed about her room. Billy had gone soon after. He never really stuck around like she wanted him to. This time, however, it didn’t bother her so much. He mind was much more concerned about the poor, unfortunate Mr. Charles Turner. Nancy got up off the bed, shot to her dresser, and picked out some pajama bottoms and a loose fitting Tee. She ran her fingers through her hair and slumped upon the couch with her story in reach.

Turner’s life flashed before his eyes. Never had he seen such an intense glimpse of what he had so vaguely experienced; his favorite toy, his first crush, his wife, the first time they made love, his daughter, Susie, bouncing on his knee, and much, much more. And then he felt something much different, but also very real. Turner felt as though he were flying. He seemed to soar for a very brief moment in time, and then something pulled him up, out of that warm dream and back into the cold, hard reality that had been around him the entire time.

“The hell you say.” Turner could barely hear what the shorter, high-toned man was saying to the taller.

“Take him where!?” … “For how long?” Turner was disoriented. What was almost worse was that he was still alive. He could hear two men calling, and then there was a third, or what he thought was one. He couldn’t tell for sure if he was seeing double. All he knew was that his vision and hearing were, for the moment, shot. He could hear a ringing like a grenade had exploded next to his ear and most of the muddled conversation going on but a couple feet away. His eyes were burning around his sinus and temples. If he could feel them they were burn. Opening his mouth seemed like a fitting substitute. His eyes seemed difficult to keep open and his vision became compromised again and again by the tears that welled up underneath him. His face felt swollen. He had been beaten badly. Had the original plan of the progressive, persuasive blade not worked? Or was his being beaten senseless merely a sadistic intermission? It didn’t matter. His side was screaming with each breath he took. He knew he was alive. But he didn’t know for how long or whether or not it would get worse before it got better.

Nancy brought her hand to her mouth and turned to the next page.

“You just bought yourself a couple of hours, you lucky son of a bitch.” The tall, silent one, grabbed onto Turner and pulled him away from the building’s ledge. The bound man groaned, clenched his teeth, and swallowed hard. He tasted something sour and something heavy hit his stomach. Blood. He spit out the last bit on the roof.

“Keep yer mouth tight,” he heard the smaller man hiss and felt a sharp pain in his shin.

Turner lifted his head up. It felt like he was trying to balance bricks. He counted heads. There were now two this time. The third one was gone or had he imagined him?

The three approached the door to the stairwell that led down to the street. It was dark and that was comforting. The darkness inside was cold and there was a draft from the doorway that brought with it a wayward moisture that lifted from the falling rain. For a brief period it licked Turner’s wounds numb and helped wash the blood away.

The door slammed shut and, after that, all that was heard was the echoing clap of their footprints. Shortly after the three started their descent they arrived at the exit to the street. A faint sliver of light seeped in from the outside through the bottom of the door. The clapping of loose metal became short, dense thuds underneath their feet. Then came a whisper;

“Don’t try anything. Get straight into the car and keep your loose mouth shut. Be a good boy and you’ll live longer.”

The door before them opened. There Turner could see where the third man had gone to. He hadn’t imagined him. And beyond him was the car. The sedan purred quietly in wait. The third man let go of the door and it swung shut behind the three. The third man took one last, long drag of his cigarette and put it out. The small man opened the door to the backseat and the bigger man shoved Turned inside, climbed in, and closed the door behind him. The small man took the other side, sandwiching Turner in. The small man leaned in to the third man who had entered the front driver’s side and whispered in his ear.

“Sunset and Belmont.”

The car took off abruptly, spouting out a great cloud of exhaust in its wake. It was still dark out and the vehicle Turner and the three men occupied crept along the slick streets headed for their top secret destination. Turner hadn’t heard what the address of the location was and, for that matter, not much else. His ears still rang, though their impairment was diminishing much more rapidly now. He also still had trouble keeping his head up. Every time he did, Turner felt nauseous. He almost threw up the time before and even the street lights and neon signs of the nearly-vacant, yet still pulsating streets of downtown pounded inside his skull. The car rocked and creaked for what seemed to be forever until Turner got the word.

“Okay. We’re here. Wake up.” Turner’s face screamed to life as white-hot pain cut through it. The little man slapped him again. “Wake up. We’re not dragging yer ass out.”

Turner pulled his legs out of the car. He had to play catch up with the rest of him that was being drug along by the big, silent one. With his free hand he tried to swat the man away from him. His captor pulled harder. Maybe they came to the conclusion that dragging would be best after all.

“W-Wh-Where we go-going?” It was Turner’s first attempt at speaking for what seemed to be forever. It took about everything he had. His wounds screamed as he moved. The small man held up his hand and the big man stopped in his tracks. The little man got close to Turner.

“What’s it matter?”

The two just stared at each other for a moment. Who was Turner kidding, it would take another hour for him to gain up the strength again to respond. At least, it seemed that way. For the moment, however, the little man came to no conclusion to punish him. After about a minute passed, the little man relaxed and motioned for the bigger one to advance with Turner to the building that stood before them.

Nancy’s concentration was broken with the sound of the phone. She put the book down and leapt to where it hung against the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hey Nancy, it’s Beth! You coming to the pep rally tonight?”

Nancy thought for a moment.

“That’s tonight?”

“Of course,” Beth replied. “It’s in half an hour. You’re usually here by now.”

Nancy looked at her watch. A couple of hours had gone by.

“Oh gee, I think so. I’ll have to hurry though. Please let everyone know I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Sure thing,” Beth answered in a chipper tone. “You feeling okay? Billy said that you seemed under the weather when he came over earlier.”

“Oh, Beth,” Nancy answered. “I’m just fine. I’ve just been relaxing today. That’s all.”

“Well, okay. If you say so, Nancy. I’ll see you in a few.” Beth hung up and Nancy ran upstairs to get ready.