On Tenterhooks (36 page)

“Call me Biker,” he said simply, in a deep tone.

Seeing no clear alternative, Steve accepted the hand and felt the strong grip. He felt his adrenaline rising even further and was ready to fight back if it came to it.

“Okay, fine, Biker.
Who the hell are you
,
and how do you who I am?”

“Introductions a little
later
bud,” Biker replied
coolly
.
He pulled the shades off and surveyed the group.

“You,” said Martin, staring up at Biker.

“Wait,” said Steve, “I know you
.
You’re the construction worker.”

“Did he see you come in here?”
Biker
asked, peering at Abby.

“What?  Who?” Steve asked.

“
You know exactly who I’m talking about, bro.
”

Steve took a step back from him, shielding the others.
“How
do
you know that?” he asked, now certain he had made a mistake leading
his friends
into such an unoccupied space.

“Later.
First things first
.
Take that booth in the corner and wait for me
.
I’ll take care of Preacher.”

Without waiting for an
answer, Biker opened the door and walked through the doorway,
heading back the way they had just come
.
Steve watched him leave and walked to the door peering after him
.
He watched Biker until he disappeared into the throng
.

“What the hell was that?”
Veronica
scowled at Steve
.

“I
don’t know
.
I’ve
seen that guy before
—
back in Charlotte
.
He was working on some road construction,
when I was
on my way to work the other day.
”

“I can’t be sure,” said Martin, “but I
’d
swear that’s the
b
iker guy who came into my pharmacy the other day.”

“I think he’s following us just like
that Preacher,” said
Veronica
. “That guy was my cabbie
the other night, the ni
gh
t I saw Preacher at my office
.
”

“Abby, let’s sit down and get something to drink,” said Martin.

He patted her gently on the shoulder
.
Abby raised her head and stared at
him
.
She blinked, nodding slowly
.
Martin
helped
her
to her feet
,
and they walked to a corner booth
, where he
guided
her onto the bench beside him
.
Steve followed
.
Veronica
started to protest, but when she realized that she was alone by the door, she joined
them
.
Steve summoned the bartender and asked for glasses and
four bottles
of water.

They waited in silence until the bartender delivered their water and returned to the bar. Steve and
Veronica
stood near the end of the table, both keeping a close eye on the door, while Martin kept his eye on Abby. Steve sighed
.
He took his glasses off and looked at the group.

“Something about this is all wrong,” Steve
said to
Veronica
. “That
p
reacher wasn’t normal
.
He was like a giant
,
and I could
feel
him
.
I could smell him and
his .
.
. his
power.”

“We saw it
,
too
,
Steve,”
Veronica
whispered. “The way he had Abby pressed up against that wall, he was
burning
her I think.
”

Steve
leaned
over to Martin.

“Is she okay?”

“I don’
t know.
I don’t know what’s wrong with her
.
She
doesn’t seem to be
too
bad off
physically, but I don’t
know
what
he
did to her.”

Abby was leaning back against the booth, eyes closed.
She hid her chest with folded arms.

“Abby?” said Martin. “Abby, sweetie, are you okay?”

She
opened her eyes
and blinked.
When she
turned to face Martin
, t
ear trails glistened on her
dirty
cheeks. Steve could tell by her movements that she was in pain.

“I t
hink so.
My head
hurts .
.
. and
my
—
my
—“

She looked down at her crossed arms
and
began crying
,
but forced herself to stifle the sniffles.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said. He turned and walked to the bar.

“Se
ñ
or,” he called to the barkeep.

“
¿
Si
,
se
ñ
or?” the barkeep asked.

For the second time that
day,
Steve silently cursed himself for not paying more attention in Spanish class.

“
Uh
, yo necesito
un
,
um,
first aid kit?” he stumbled.

“
¿
Que
, se
ñ
or
?”

Steve sighed.

“Necesito
. . .
un medicina, un medico?”

“
¿
Necesita doctora, se
ñ
or?” the bartender asked.

“No, no doctora,” Steve said. He had no interest in returning to the street outside
.
“Un momento, por favor,” he said to the bartender.
He turned back
toward
their booth.

“
Veronica
,” he
called
. “How do you say bandages in Spanish?”

Before
Veronica
could answer, the bartender interrupted.

“Ah,
venda
!” he exclaimed.

“Yes!
¡
Si!” said Steve. “
Necesito una venda
!”

“
¡
Muy bien
!
” the bartender replied and bent down under the bar
.
He stood up with a triumphant grin on his face and a white box in his hands.

“
Venda
!” he repeated,
as
he placed the box on the counter. Steve saw the
familiar
red cross
and
nodded in satisfaction
.
He picked up the box with a simple
,
“Gracias.”

“De nada,”
replied the bartender
.

“
¿
Tu tienes un ba
ñ
o?” Steve asked.

“Si se
ñ
or, alli
,
” said the bartender, pointing to a doorway near the end of the bar.

“Gracias
.”

He
left the bar and returned to their booth
.
He
casually pulled
Veronica
away from the table and
handed the box to
her
.

“Why don’t you take her in the bathroom and see
if you can do anything for
her .
.
. see
how bad it is?” he asked.

Veronica
cracked the box open
.
Inside were antiseptic wipes, bandages, aspirin, salves and other supplies
.
She nodded.

“Okay, but do you think this stuff is any good?” she asked, rummaging through the supplies in the box.

“It’s
the best we’ve got right now.
Take a look at her
. If you think we need to go a doctor, we’ll wait for a few minutes and then
go
.
I don’t think we should leave just yet.”

She
glanced at the door
again.

“But what if
he
show
s
up?”

“I’ll yell for you
then
, give you a warning
.
But if they can track us across a continent, I don’t think taking a
two-minute
bathroom break is gonna make any difference.
Just do what you can for her and get back quickly.”

She nodded once
,
“Fine.”
Then s
he walked back to the table and held out her hand to Abby.
“C’mon, kiddo.
Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Abby looked at her and then looked over at Martin
.
Martin nodded.
“Good idea
.”
He slid out of the booth and helped Abby up.
Quietly sobbing, Abby
let
Veronica
lead her through the doorway next to the bar
.

Steve sat down on the edge of the booth, so that he could keep an eye on the front door
.
Martin sat back down across the table from him.
“Is it bad?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know.
From what little I could see, he burned her, burned her breast
.
I don’t think that part was too bad though
—
she seemed to be breathing okay
.
But I don’t think that’s the worst of it
.
I think he was doing something to her insides.”

“You mean l
ike she’s bleeding internally?”

“No, not like that
—
like
he was messin
’
with her head. On the way over here, she kept telling me ‘I didn’t let him in
.
’
She repeated it several times. I don’t know if she was talking to me or
to
herself.”

Steve pondered Martin’s words.

“Well,
we gotta get her to tell us what he did. We might need to find a doctor around here.”