Catharsis (Book 2): Catalyst (21 page)

            "No, Cat.  He's not," she says with finality.  "He’s already graduated college," 

            Her phone clicks off before I can reply, and I'm left with just dead air on the line. 

            An empty phone line and a welling bubble of anger growing in my gut.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

            "Leyna?  Leyna!"  I scream into my microphone in an impotent attempt to make her answer me.  I know she isn't there anymore, but yelling at the phone is the only thought that grabs hold in my conscious for the next few moments.

            Regaining a small taste of sanity and realizing that yelling into a disconnected line won't solve anything, I activate my phone's voice dial and yell into it, "Phone, call her!"  Unfortunately, my anger and raised voice only serve to confuse it as I've never attempted to dial my sister while trying to tamper down a boiling belly full of rage.  Apparently it's more than my poor phone can comprehend, and it takes me multiple attempts and a forced effort to calm myself before I can get it to dial my younger sister.

            To no avail.  After a few rings it goes to her voicemail.  I leave her a contrite message and try again.  Each attempt to contact her just results in her voicemail, and I realize I'm being thwarted by technology.  I just need to see and speak to her face-to-face.

            Dating a man - not a "guy" or a "boy", but a god damn
man
! (And for some reason I think my mother would forgive my language on this one.) - is not something I was anticipating from my younger sister.  I certainly understand why my parents flipped out.  And why she kept it secret.  I thought she was smarter than this.  I thought she was better than this.  Is this what my absence at the home has done?  Is this because I haven't been there to guide her?

            Realizing I'm just going to drive myself nuts with worry until I actually speak to her and confront her about this, I look to find a way to solve the problem as opposed to just railing against it.  I need to find out where she is.  But I don't know where she is or where she's going.  Aside from most likely sneaking out to meet up with this boy - no...this grown man - somewhere.  And I don't know where he is, either.

            Or his name.  She called him Jacob a number of times when she was talking to me, but I never got a chance to ask his last name.  I don't even know where to begin looking.  My best guess is to go back to the house and try to track her down from there.  But I don't want to go back home.  What if I run into mom or dad?  Or what if they've discovered she’s snuck out and called the police, and I run into them?  Or if he comes by and picks her up in a car, then it might take me weeks to track her wherever she is going.  And I don't have weeks.  I need to find her tonight.

            And only one person is smart enough to help me track her.  Ren!  He'll know how to find her using some of his electronic gizmos, or at least he'll have an idea for me to use.  Thank God for his existence.  He'll keep me sane tonight.

            "Ren, I need your help, man," I say out loud so that he can hear me and hopefully pull his attention away from his new toys.  "Leyna has gone missing.  Can you track her?"

            Waiting for his reply, I start the Zero up and gun it into a U-turn to head back towards the warehouse, but he doesn't answer me.  That’s unlike him even if he is distracted.

            "Ren, I need you.  Are you there?"  I ask and try not to let the rising tingle of fear I'm feeling creep into my voice.  "Answer me, buddy!"

            Nothing.  No response. 

            How could he have abandoned me tonight, of all nights?  I need that man, Leyna needs him, and he isn't around?

            "Ren!"  I scream into my microphone.  "Answer me now, dam-"

            I stop mid-yell as I realize my voice is sounding funny in my helmet.  I'm not getting my normal little echo that occurs when I talk to Ren.  Why aren't I getting that echo?

            And then I realize what the issue is, and I almost lose control of the bike as relief floods through my system.  The wave of happiness at what just happened is so strong it is almost euphoric.  Ren didn't abandon me.  I abandoned
him
.  I never turned my radio back on after going out and feeding tonight.  Leyna called after I finished, and I completely spaced it thinking about her.  Ren can't answer me if he can't hear me.

            Flicking the switch to activate the helmet's built in two-way radio, I say, "Ren, I need your help with Leyna, she's-"

            But Ren's screaming voice drowns me out.  "They're coming, Cat!  Geezus, they're coming.  You need to get out of there right now.  They're almost on top of you."

            Slowing the Zero down so that I can concentrate on what he's saying, I ask him for clarification.  "Who's coming Ren?  Who are you talking about?  What's going on?"

            "The cartels," he huffs out in a voice I almost don't recognize.  He sounds more shaken than I've ever heard before.  "That guy you took earlier tonight.  You still have his phone.  They've been tracking it.  They've sent an army after you.  They're almost there.  I picked up on it with our wire at the lawyer's house.  I tried to warn you, but I couldn't get a hold of you on the radio.  And your phone kept going to voicemail.  They're sending everything at you tonight," he says and pauses to breathe.  "Run, Cat.  Just run.  Get out of there and we'll figure it out later."

            A small rumble shakes through my bike, and I look up to see four large, black SUV's pull onto the street where I'm currently sitting.  They are still several blocks away, but I can sense they are here for me.  They are finally bringing the fight to me in a way that is meant to finish it.

            Glancing in the Zero's side mirror, I can see more vehicles behind me gliding into view.  Ren was right.  They did send an army out for me tonight.  They are meaning for this to be a bloodbath.  I should run.  I should get out of here.  I shouldn't stay.

            But I'm going to.  The seed of rage that Leyna planted earlier has begun to take root, and I can feel its branches pushing out through me.  Empowering me.  I
should
run from this.  But I don't want to.  I want to confront these men and let them taste the fury that is welling up inside of me.  I want them to know why they should fear me.  I want every one of them to be a creepy, college graduate preying on underage girls so that I can introduce them to the pain they so richly deserve. 

            Part of me knows that I should run instead of staying to fight.  Running is the smarter option.  But if I run, then they will follow me.  Even if I think I can lose them in the city, what if I don’t?  What if one of them manages to track me back to Leyna?  Or my house?  Or my family?  I can’t have that.  No.  The only way for me to be safe – for Leyna to be safe – is for me to end this here.  They have made the decision to start it.  But
I
will end it.

            I smile as I feel the darkness swell in me and pulse through my muscles and tingle into my brain.  These men can't win tonight.  Not against me.  They just don't know it, yet.

            "Ren," I say as calmly as I can.  "I'll be fine, but I need you to do me a favor.  Find Leyna for me, ok?  She went out with some guy, and I fear that he's..."  I stop and swallow unable to continue with that train of thought.  "Well, I'm worried something bad is going to happen.  Find her for me, so I can talk to her after this."  I shudder slightly as my blood begins to itch in my veins.  The darkness knows what is coming, and it wants me to release it.

            "Sure, Cat," is all Ren says after several seconds, and I begin to think that is all he is going to say.  Then he continues quietly, "Be careful and call me when it's over."

            "I will, Ren.  But don't worry about me.  Just find
her
," I say and then I turn off his speaker so that if he replies I won't be able to hear it.  He has been relegated to clicks for the rest of this evening.

            Looking up at the approaching convoy of intimidating vehicles approaching me, I smile underneath my helmet and give in to the rush of the Dark Hunger.  Tonight no longer belongs to me.  This night belongs to Pain.  And I am his messenger.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

            Watching the vehicles barrel towards me, I know I don't have enough energy built up from my earlier hunting to maintain my requisite level of power throughout this fight.  I will have to stop at some point and feed, or I will burn myself out before I'm able to burn through all of them.  And that isn't an acceptable end to this scenario.  So until I can figure out the best way to get a mid-battle snack, I'm going to have to play smart as opposed to giving in to the reckless abandon like I want to. 

            The Dark Hunger fueling me may be powerful, but it doesn't have the best of intentions when it comes to my well-being.  I'm pretty sure giving in to it completely would lead to me physically stalling out just as I'm about to punch somebody, and then I'd just pass out in front of a mob of enraged - and very well-armed - men.  With that in mind, I try to do my best to strike a compromise with the beast churning inside of me.  I'll let it out, but I won't let it take over.  At least not until I feel it can safely carry me through the end of the battle without fail.  Until then, I remain in control. 

            Blinking through my darkened visor, I watch the four shadow-covered SUV's race towards me.  I need to take them out as quickly as possible, and I need to disable as many of the people inside of them as I can.  One swift strike that sets the tone for what is to come. 

            Up until now, I have tried my best to not kill the unfortunates that have drifted to the dark side of the cartels.  I break them, I punish them and I inflict pain, but I have kept as many of them alive as possible.  Death is not something I want to taste often.  The awful clinging bitterness that it brings to my palate is not easily cleansed.  But tonight I don't have time to be gentle.  I will end this continued charade that they play, and I will find my sister.  And they won't stand in my way.

            Twisting the handle of the Zero, I accelerate towards the vehicles to bring the fight to them.  With my other hand I dig into my backpack to locate the long length of weighted chain I keep in there.  As much as I love my bike, I love my sister more.  Its sacrifice tonight will serve a greater purpose.

            Yanking the chain free of its cloth womb, I pull out the massive coil and loop it loosely around my left arm.  My timing must be precise for what I want to happen, and the last thing I need is the chain kinking up on me before it can serve its purpose.

            Drifting over slightly on the road so that I am aimed at the driver's side of the massive, black vehicle racing towards me in the wrong lane of the small road we're on (I want to keep the other lead vehicle to my right for this to work, and I need the two pursuing vehicles to be right behind them.), I twist the Zero's throttle as hard as I can to try and gain as much speed as possible before impact.  Neither of the lead SUV's show any intention of slowing, and I can only assume that they figure their weight will just crush me unimpeded.  Their acceleration towards me nearly matches my own.

            Counting the seconds until impact, I quickly activate my mic and whisper to Ren, "I'm going to need a new bike."  As the meters between us shrink to feet, I can see the faces of the men through the windshields and I almost feel sorry for them.  They have no idea what is coming for them tonight.

            Moments before I impact the front of the SUV and get trampled like a lost lion cub under a stampede of wild wildebeests, I push myself up and stand on the bike's seat and then leap straight up so that my momentum will carry me over the impending collision.  The look of surprise on the men's faces as I float away from their attempt at destroying me is nearly as rewarding as what comes next.

            Pulling on the Dark Hunger and slowing time on my ascent, I grab the two ends of the chain and throw them in opposing directions.  My left hand sends the chain downward into the front wheel of the bike causing it to lock up and flip over the hood of the SUV.  Instead of getting crushed beneath the behemoth's rugged tires, my precious Zero becomes an eco-friendly, battery-powered missile that shatters the front window and then continues on a tumbling path through the front seat of the vehicle and on into the rear section and beyond my line of sight.

            My right hand whips the heavy weight of the chain towards the sidewalk and an adjacent streetlamp I had noticed earlier.  The chain sails past the heavy, steel cylinder of the light pole before momentum and the tug of the now retreating bike causes it to snap taut and whip around the heavy metal pole entangling itself like Indiana Jones attempting to swing across a spike-covered pit.

            In a vain attempt to watch my own handiwork, I turn my arc into a flip so that I can peek at the destruction I have wrought behind me.  As soon as the chain snags tight onto the pole, it pulls the bike towards it, but the Zero is lodged into the backseat of the SUV.  The tension from the chain pulls on the motorcycle and the force of that pressure swerves the SUV directly into the other lead vehicle.  The strain exerted on the poor chain and light pole cause both to snap and break releasing their hold on the car and letting it tumble sideways down the street.  But it has already served its purpose as I watch the second car attempt to overcorrect after being hit by the chain, the light pole and the smashed SUV before giving in to inertia and flipping on to its side and rolling into one of the nearby buildings.

            I doubt everyone in both cars is dead or permanently incapacitated, but they should hopefully be out of the fight for the next several minutes.  Not a perfect solution, but one I am willing to accept right now.

            The two trailing cars apply their brakes as the carnage in front of them escalates, but I have no intention of letting them escape this evening without involvement.  It's just a matter of how best to inflict as much pain and damage on them as possible before moving on.

            Completing my arcing flip through the air, I come down hard on the hood of the massive vehicle that had been trailing the one I punched a motorcycle through.  Using my flight's momentum to power me, I punch both fists through the vehicle's windshield – temporarily encasing my arms in safety-glass encrusted sleeves.  Grabbing the steering wheel from the startled driver, I yank it as hard as I can towards the smaller SUV mirroring its path on my right.  The monster of a vehicle that I'm riding on crunches into its neighbor and pushes it off to the side and into the path of the rolling tornado of debris I had just created moments before.  With nowhere to go and knowing that its fate is set, I crank the steering wheel hard in the opposite direction before the men sitting and facing me can recover from what they're seeing. 

            The steel monster I’m riding sways uncertainly on the road with the sudden change in direction, and I decide to add to the fun by pulling upwards on the wheel and twisting as hard as I can.  With an audible
stang!
the wheel releases from the steering column and pops free, but not before the airbag that had been embedded inside of it fires with enough force to rip the wheel back out of my hands.

            Unfortunately for the driver, my motion had brought the steering wheel closer to his face before it released, and the impact it made with the soft flesh of his face is not pretty. 

            With the means of controlling the vehicle removed (both the wheel and driver who might have been able to attempt a recovery), I roll off to the side of the vehicle to let it pass by me and down the street towards the approaching cars coming from the other direction.

            Quickly getting back to my feet, I look up in time to see the SUV I had just leapt off of broadside a bright red luxury car on the far side of the street that had moments earlier been intent on running me down.  The remaining four cars near it quickly pull over to the curbs and begin disgorging men faster than a compact car can spit out clowns at a circus.  There is no way that many people should be able to fit into that number of cars.  It boggles the mind.

            Glancing around at the three overturned and smoking wrecks around me, I discern that the battle to be had is down by them and no longer over here.  Of the nine vehicles they sent to intercept me, five of them have already been disabled and their passengers either killed or distracted.  I like that start, but that's all it is:  a start.

            Right now, I'm a lone girl standing in the middle of an empty street with a little more than twenty men all pointing guns in my direction.  This doesn't look good for me, so I guess it's a good thing I don't care about looks any more.

            From a distance their guns are going to give them the advantage.  And that means I need to take that advantage away as quickly as possible and get closer to them.  Much closer.

            And I think this is the night that I finally turn those horrible little weapons of theirs into an advantage for me.  It's going to be a night they won't soon forget.

            Well.  Those who survive it at least.