REprisal - Kathy Coopmans Page 0,90
the D.A. says, never taking his eyes off of the computer in front of him.
I make my way to the bathroom, shut the door and hurriedly change, pulling the sling over my over my head as I go. Straightening out my arm, I flex, gasping when a shot of pain shoots down my arm.
“Fuck it!” I say out loud. I’ve had worse.
After I’m dressed I step out, glad to be rid of the hospital gown and ready to get the fuck out of here.
“How the hell am I supposed to get out of here? Just walk out the damn door?”
“Nah, man. I’m going to do this.”
Before I can react, Zack punches me swiftly in the gut, then delivers another blow to my right eye, sending me spiraling back onto the bed.
“Fuck!” I shout, my hand flying up to my face.
His arm comes up again only to be stopped by my doctor.
“That’s enough!” he says, Zack’s arm in his grip. Zack spits in my face, then pulls his arm away from the doctor and sticks his hand out to pull me up.
“Don’t fuck this up.”
We all freeze for an instant as the phone rings. The suits scramble to their listening devices and on the third ring they give me the nod to answer it. I pick it up, but this time it’s not Tina on the other end; it’s an unfamiliar male voice telling me I have ten minutes to get downstairs to where a dark blue van is waiting at the patient pick-up area.
“If you’re late, we know where Clove and her family are right now, and we will kill them all,” the voice threatens before abruptly hanging up.
And then everything happens so fucking fast I don’t know what the hell is going on. People are rushing out of the door. A black hood is thrown over my head. My hands are secured behind my back and I am being rushed out the door.
“What the hell?”
My heart starts hammering in my chest. I’m fighting to try and get away from whoever has a firm hold on me.
“Shut the hell up and fucking walk, asshole,” Zack hisses in my ear.
“Did you hear what he said? They will kill her if I don’t come out there.”
“Shut. Your. Mouth.” He enunciates every word.
He cranks my arm up farther onto my back. Shit, that hurts like a bitch. I hear the sound of an elevator ding and I am forcefully shoved inside. It feels like forever before the damn thing stops and opens. We press forward and the sounds of ‘Oh my God,’ and ‘What’s going on?’ swarm all around me.
I feel the warmth of the sun, the sound of cars and birds, and familiar outdoor noises as I am escorted out and shoved into what I assume is a van. The doors behind me close. My arms now free to whip off the mask, my angry eyes dart all around, only to find Zack and several FBI agents now in the van and a stranger tied up and gagged lying at my feet.
“Go,” the agent says.
“What in the mother fuck?”
Zack spins around from his seat in front of me.
“What? You really think we were just going to walk right out of here with all those reporters out front?”
“I don’t know what the hell to think.”
“I’ll tell you what to think. Start thinking of the way you’re going to get me my mother, because this strung out punk ass kid just told us where she was. The idiot made the call from a payphone in the hospital lobby.”
The young man lying at my feet looks up in fear, his eyes frantically scanning between Zack and me. A wave of relief washes over me. I toss the mask onto the floor.
“You couldn’t share this shit with me beforehand?”
“Had to make sure we could trust you,” The smug asshole chuckles, turning back around in his seat.
I lean my head back against the cool metal of the van, studying the beady-eyed kid cuffed with his hands between his legs, curled up on his side. I sniff the air. The fucker’s pissed himself. He’s scared shitless, and he should be. I bend over him, bringing my face mere inches from his.
“How old are you, kid? Eighteen, nineteen? Whatever the hell you’re on, trust me when I tell you that shit will fuck up your life. That high you’re feeling right now? I hope it’s worth it. I also hope it’s the last time you take that shit, because