Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves Page 5

  “Don’t you care?” he asked Daniel, with more force than he intended, a residual response to the frustration he was directing at himself.

  Daniel peered up from the LCD of his phone, his brow furled. “What kind of fucking question is that, Rich? Of course, I care! He’s my friend as much as he is yours.” He copied Richard’s gesture of a few moments before. Then the chirping and vibrating of the smart device in his hand distracted him.

  Daniel was the polar opposite of Richard. Though they both had Latin American roots, they’d been sprung from different origins. Daniel was Mexican, a big one at that. He was not overweight per se, but still carried considerable bulk. One could say he was big-boned with large hands, large feet and a large frame to match. He was way over two hundred pounds, his skin a few shades lighter than Richard’s with hair he wore combed-back and greased. It was much like the pompadours of old, seen way back in the 1950’s. To his friends, Daniel was one such relic when it came to his appearance. His attire was usually proof enough.

  For their afternoon foray to the Glendale Galleria he had donned 501 Levi’s, turned-up at the bottom and a starched white t-shirt. A waist-cut jean jacket and the black leather Sketchers he had on his feet, made him look like a bigger, Hispanic version of James Dean.

  “If you care so much, how come you can’t stop texting Mariah for like one second?”

  Daniel's sigh was huge. He tapped the glass of the phone a few more times, and then gazed over at his friend, his eyes hooded with the first wisps of anger.

  “They’ll be here in a few minutes. You can hold off on the incessant messaging until then,” added Richard. He met the foreboding cast of his friends’ face, unwilling to back down.

  After all, it was Anthony they were talking about. Though he was the quietest of their group, he was still a member, maybe the leading one at that. More often than not, they ended up doing what Anthony had suggested or talked about a given topic he had brought up. Would they have still been hanging out if it had not been for him in the first place? Had he not been the one that helped forge their clique back when they were first starting out at the high school? They had all been nothing more than a bunch of tight-assed geeks about ready to shit themselves with nervousness. With a more subdued demeanor, Anthony had been calmer than those around him. He was the one who brought them together over those first precarious weeks and months.

  Richard remembered it all too well. Maybe Daniel had forgotten or maybe it was less a factor in his life now that he had Mariah.

  But fuck, man, the dude and his sisters have been kidnapped! What kind of messed up shit is that?

  Daniel broke eye contact first, glancing about Colorado Blvd. Then, he peered about the transit stop where they were awaiting the arrival of their girlfriends. They were crawling down the wide avenue, ensconced in the MTA’s 181 bus. The fact their route took them passed the scene of the now missing Eagle Rock Plaza had delayed them by more than a half hour. Finding alternate ways around the devastation wrought in that part of Los Angeles was still a nightmare.

  This had made Daniel a little antsy. He had not seen his girlfriend since Wednesday. That was the day everything had gone down and wanted nothing more than to have her luscious lips on his. He peered back at Richard. “You’re a dick,” was all Daniel could think to say.

  Richard’s head snapped back in surprise. “Imma dick? Me?” He was pointing at himself.

  “Yeah, man, you’re acting like my Dad, all worried and shit over how much I used my iPhone.”

  “Hey, ass-munch, I’m trying to talk to you about Anthony and all you can do is send text after text to your chick. What the fuck’s up with that?” Richard stood, walking to the back of the bench, resting his forearms along the top of it.

  Daniel closed his eyes. “You ever think she’s the one who’s helping me get through all this shit?”

  Richard’s frown deepened, but stayed silent when the other continued.

  “Fuck, man, I’ve known the dude since he started going to high school. I was like one of his first friends, remember? He introduced me to you!” Daniel’s look betrayed raw emotion that Richard had not expected to see, because the guy had hidden it so well.

  Could it be true, though? Was Mariah the one responsible for his level-headedness? Was that why he was so wrapped up in her junk? Was she the one talking him through the smorgasbord of emotions he was chomping through right now? Could they be that close? Really?

  “Mariah is helping me, ok?”

  It was Richard’s turn to sigh. “Ah shit, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know -.”

  “Mariah and I are tight, Rich. Real tight.”

  Is he reading minds now?

  “And, it’s not just about the sex and all that crap. She’s my friend too, ok?” he finished with a shake of his head.

  Richard thoughts turned him inward, trying to comprehend what his friend was saying. Things between him and Melanie were different. This was most likely due to the fact his girlfriend was not as endearing as Daniel’s. She had a more pragmatic approach to their relationship. She did not like to delve into the “mushy-shit” they had seen time and again at the movies. Sex between them was fever-pitched, animalistic, leaving little space for romance or chivalric gestures. Melanie liked the raw essence of it, plain and simple, and Richard liked that too. She was a welcomed respite to the commitment obsessed, brown-skinned girls he had dated in the past. He was so sick of the “wanna meet my parents” and the “if we have sex, we should consider getting married” types of girls. He did not want that. He never had.

  And yet, as he thought about it, there was a down side to the sort of relationship he had with Melanie. Call it a lack of depth or an inability to dive down deeper than the surface. Though he would not trade his girl for any other, it still left him thinking. Maybe having someone he trusted to talk to was sometimes important. He and Melanie did not have that degree of faith when hit came to the others’ innermost thoughts. Because of that, he had not talked about what had happened to Anthony and his sisters, and so many others. When she had asked if he was okay, he said he was fine despite the decimation of the teen population in their neighborhood. They were not built that way. They had not forged those bridges, so there were wide gulfs of uncertainty. He did not know how to tell her how much he was hurting inside. Speaking about how much losing his friend had left a giant hole in his chest was impossible for him. Heck, he never even known the guy occupied such a space until a few days ago.

  He could not tell her, though he had not known the others as well as Anthony, he had known enough about them to make him sad, introspective. Sophie Reed – the fine-ass cheerleader. Hyun Kwon – the fine-ass gymnast. Joaquin Barrientos – the wrestler. Jason Fong – the Kung-fu guru. Kimberly Madison – the fine-ass Emo waif. Marianna White-Horse – the fine-ass new chick. Derek Benson – the underclassman.

  As with Anthony, they had all attended their school – Eagle Rock Junior/Senior High - all eight of them, and that had not been all. There had been more of them. Anthony’s two sisters as well as a tenth grader from Franklin High and a fifth grader from Annandale Elementary. On the day before Thanksgiving, kids had been getting snatched up all over their part of town. Though, he would never admit it out loud, it had scared the crap out of him. It was frightening to think someone had been so thorough with the scoping-out of their neighborhood. It was only way they could have abducted so many with such impunity. It was fucken bold and it was terrible. Every time he thought about it, it sent shivers up and down his spine.

  How was he going to tell Melanie that? How was he going to tell her how worried he was over becoming a victim himself? She would think was a dweeb or something. He could not tell her. He could not tell anyone.

  He peered over at Daniel, who was as still as a statue, his orbs locked on something across the wide expanse of Colorado Blvd. “I’m sorry, man,” he said again.

  “Don’t sweat it.” Daniel spoke, his voice wooden.

  “It’s all just
so fucked up.”

  The large teen swiveled his head around. “How many shrinks do you think there’ll be on campus come Monday?”

  Richard snickered. “A freakin’ shit-ton!”

  “Yeah, you got that right.” He blew air through his lips. His eyes were far away again. “Not like it’s gonna help one damn bit. Tony will still be gone…”

  Richard swallowed hard. “You don’t think they’ll hurt him and all the others, do you?”

  “We live in a sick fucken’ world…”

  Richard’s mind kept sliding toward those unspeakable things he heard without exception on the TV or read on the ‘net. People did nasty things to kids nowadays. He could not help but think about the girls. All four of them had been pretty. Fuckers in this day and age kept girls like that locked up for decades. They did not have a days’ worth fun with them and then whack them anymore. Naw, they kept them. They raped them daily and got them pregnant, and raised their kids…

  Yeah, Daniel was right. We live in a sick fucken’ world.

  “I sure hope they’re found soon,” he said aloud instead. His thoughts were far too grim.

  “Me too,” replied the large teen. He stood up of a sudden, which got Richard’s attention immediately.

  A few blocks down the street they could see the bus lumbering down the road.

  Daniel's face lit up, beaming as he gazed down at his phone. He looked back at his companion. “Mariah says she can see us.”

  Not sure why, Richard smiled. Despite what had happened, they were going to make the best of a bad situation. Armed with a couple months of allowance and saved-up work money, he and Daniel were going to show the girls a good time. They needed it.

  They all needed it.

  Anthony was missing. So many others were missing and there was not a god damned thing he or Daniel could do about it.

  ...A sick fucken world.

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 4 ~

  The Missing Panther

  Friday, November 26th, the Day after Thanksgiving, 2:55 pm…

  Lynn Loren twirled a strand of her waist-long, dirty-blonde hair between her thumb and forefinger. Listening into her handset, her bright pink lips puckered in thought. The eyelids about her green/blue orbs squinted as she considered what her friend was saying through the phone. She was tall for a girl of sixteen years, five-foot nine, full-figured. Though she often struggled with her complexion, there was still no doubt, one day, she would grow into a beautiful woman.

  “…calling his house, but his grandmother answered. She only speaks Spanish. I'm only part-fluent, though I understand a lot more when I hear it. I just never know how to say anything in return.” Vanessa Menendez breathed deep, having talked all the air out of her lings. But, she continued before Lynn could get a word in edgewise. “Anyhow, girl, his grandmother and I went back and forth a few times. But, we just couldn’t understand what the other was saying, so I just said I was sorry and hung up.

  “It sounds pretty bad over there, you know. It wasn’t just Andrew who went missing. His Dad blew-up in the terrorist bomb as well, so now his younger brother and sisters are like screwed for someone to take care of them. I mean, I know the grandmother’s there, but she’s like so old. How is she going to raise all those young kids by herself? Andrew’s Mom has been out of the picture so long, I have no idea what they’re going to do.”

  Vanessa's inhalation was loud into the phone. The second time she'd done so. “What have you heard?”

  “Oh,” began Lynn, sucking on the tips of the hair she had twirled about a few of her fingers, “you’re finally going to let me talk?”

  There was a sharp snort through the line. “Don’t be such a brat, Lynn! You know things like this make all flustered. And, when I get flustered I talk a lot. You know this!”

  “Yeah, I know…” She wasn’t lying as far as Lynn could tell.

  “Then why you acting so mean?”

  She exhaled with annoyance she should not have felt, but did all the same. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little uneasy myself. Ever since I heard two more girls went missing today, I’ve been as jittery as one of my parakeets.”

  “Yeah, I know. I wonder what this is all about.”

  “You got me,” replied the long-limbed teen. She was sitting on her bed, one foot dangling off to the floor, the other tucked under her butt. She was wearing tight-fitting, high-waisted jeans. A gossamer cotton blouse over a spaghetti-strapped halter top, accentuating her ample bosom. If there was one thing said about her, it was she was well developed for a sixteen-year-old. She had a body at her tender age that most twenty-something’s would die for.

  Her toes itched of a sudden and she twisted to rub them through her thin, white socks, holding her Galaxy 5s with her chin. “I hope Andrew is alright,” she said. Then thought about how much work she was going to have to do on the school paper now that he was not there to help her.

  They had been a team now for almost a year – her, the photographer, and he, her field technician. It was something she was sure he did, because we wanted to get close enough to her to ask her out in the future. She had known he had an ulterior motive for quite some time. But as time went by and she got to know the kid better, she found herself not at all that bothered by it. She liked Andrew. He was kind, thoughtful, a gentleman whenever he was around her. Though she was certain he peeked, she had never caught him ogling her tits or her ass or anything of that nature. He never pushed his advantage with her though they were often in semi-darkness (under infrared light bulbs) - together for up to forty minutes at a time, developing film. He was just not like so many other guys she knew. He was Andrew, sweet smiling Andrew. Plus, they worked well together. His competence with the school’s high-end photo equipment was unparalleled. Yeah, his true motivations might have been clandestine, but she liked him. Maybe with time, she would see him in a different light and not be all that affronted if he came onto her. Maybe she would show interest back. Maybe she would date him. Who knew, right?

  Not anymore…

  “I know! It would awful if something happened to him. With the father gone, those kids are going to need someone to take care of them,” said Vanessa.

  To Lynn, she sounded truly worried for them. “You’re such a sweetheart,” she couldn’t help but say.

  “Why?”

  “Because, all you worry about are his siblings. I think it’s cute, and quite nice of you, I might add.” She knew why, in that instant, Vanessa Menendez meant so much to her. “You’re a great person, Ness.”

  “Ah come on, girl.”

  “I mean it!”

  “Come off it! You’re embarrassing me.”

  In her mind’s eye, Lynn could envision her voluptuous friend. Her hair was always highlighted, light-brown and super-curly. She could see her broad face and hazel eyes bunched up with discomfiture. She could see her blended features and long, narrow nose flaring. Her broad, ruby-red lips would pinch as she rejected the complements Lynn was giving her.

  Lynn decided to lay-off.

  A short silence befell them.

  “But, seriously, girl, have you heard anything else?”

  Lynn shook her head in the negative, though she knew her friend could not see the gesture. “No, and it is frustrating, let me tell you. Now that there are so many different kinds of police looking into… what’re they calling it?”

  “The Event.”

  “Yeah, the Event.” She stopped to snicker. “Sounds like the title to a really bad movie. Doesn’t it?”

  “You know what? It sure does.”

  “Anyhow, I’ve run into nothing but a brick wall. No one knows anything, other than what the media has said they can report. I mean, after the first videos went viral and it was obvious that this was something much more than a series of child abductions. It’s like the government has shut down everything.” Lynn flopped down amongst the pillows of her bed. “Did you know there’s been nothing knew on YouTube for over twenty hours?”
/>
  “No shit? I hadn’t checked,” replied Vanessa.

  Both girls knew twenty hours on YouTube was like the passing of three lifetimes.

  “Well, you haven’t missed anything. It’s like they’ve shut down all outgoing information.” She paused around the growing lump in her throat, her voice uneven. “And, it totally sucks.”

  Vanessa, for the first time that afternoon, was silent for a time. Then, “You like him, don’t you?”

  In a flood of longing and regret that surprised Lynn down to the soles of her feet, she said: “I don’t know.”

  Her friend’s voice was small. “There’s nothing to feel bad about. We all know you’ve had a crush on him for some time now. Besides, he’s cute in a frumpish sort of way.” She giggled like she had pondered something naughty.

  The thought made Lynn sit up in the middle of her bed. “Really?!? I haven’t even decided if I like him or not.”

  “Oh, girl, you have, you just haven’t admitted to yourself yet.”

  Maybe it was true. Maybe she did like him. Ever since she had heard of his seizure, all she could think about was how far she was willing to go if a conversation between them turned personal. She had spent Thanksgiving dinner contemplating various scenarios between them. Every instance had taken place in the tiny room where they did their work for the school paper. They were always alone. They were always left uninterrupted. A lot could happen in situations like that, right?

  If he had leaned close, she would have as well, letting him know it was ok to kiss her. If he had asked her out, she had thought about the fashion in which she would accept. Then, she would back-track, thinking over the many ways he might ask. What would his approach be like? Would he be bold or meek? Would he be bursting with confidence or would be as shy as a twelve-year-old. Over and over, she kept tossing and turning the various images. She wondered at his methods of expression and the manner she would receive them. Would she play hard-to-get or would she dive right in? Was he a good kisser? Did he know his way around a good make-out session? Or would he fumble through it? And if he was good at making out, would she let him do more than give her simple kisses? Was petting at school a slutty thing to do? Did she care?