Tearing The Shroud (23 page)

He paused and saw Emily come up the last step from the gym.

‘Oh, hi, Emily.’

‘Hey, how’re you today?’

She had stayed true to her end of the bet, smiling at him.

‘Pretty good, I’m just going to the library.’

‘Cool, me too, but I need to grab some paper from the store; want to come with me?’

He started to say no, but she looked at him so cheerfully that he didn’t want to shortcut her efforts at being pleasant. ‘Sure, why not.’

‘So, that tumbling thing you did was incredible. Did you ever compete?’

‘No. I learned it to augment my martial arts. It’s good to know what your body is going to do in the air.’

‘Really, why?’

He shrugged. ‘It helps with kicks, flying punches and if you get thrown or knocked down.’

‘Ah, I don’t know anything about that kinda stuff.’ She paused in front of the small building. ‘You coming in?’

He shook his head. ‘I’ll wait here for you.’

‘Okay, be right back.’

Who would have thought it. Maybe she’ll like this way of life better. Can people really change though?
He tried to envision Flea as quiet and subdued and the image wouldn’t come.
Would he change when Coleman arrives? Would he become less like himself, or would it be better?
His stomach clenched. What if he became something he didn’t like...or worse?

‘Uhh — ’ He jerked as someone patted his arm.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’ Emily blinked behind her glasses.

‘No, it’s...I was just thinking.’

‘About what?’ She started to walk across a wide grassy area dotted with trees. The tops of them disappeared into the fluffy grey blanket. Students mainly used this area to play Capture the Flag or Frisbee, but not much else. Vincent wondered why. Even in the inclement weather the place was beautiful, even peaceful.

A hand took his and he looked over. ‘You really are distracted.’ Emily smiled. ‘You know, you can talk to me, about anything.’

‘Thank you, Emily. That means a lot.’ He squeezed her hand for emphasis and started to pull it away, but she held on.

‘Vincent, I’m here for you.’ She stepped closer, looking up at him. ‘In any way you want me to be...’ Before he knew what was happening, her lips headed towards his. At the last moment, he pulled his head back and turned his face. Emily’s kiss landed on the edges of his upper lip and nose.

He gently held her off him. ‘Emily...no...I...’

She yanked her hand from his and stepped back, her mouth a tight line. ‘Fine. I see how it is.’ Turning, she stomped back toward the store.

‘Emily, wait.’

‘No, Vincent.’ She glared back while still walking and pointed at him. ‘Stay away.’

He let his hands fall and sighed.
Nice job, Casanova.

The Movies

Vincent and Flea sat in a corner of the Stacks, the library’s bottom floor housing the lesser-used volumes. It was the place to research obscure information, discuss projects, and make out. He didn’t tell Flea about the embarrassing fiasco with Emily.
Maybe I can pretend it didn’t happen.

‘Hey, spaceman.’ Flea tapped his shoulder.

‘Huh?’

‘That’s it, we’re outta here.’ Flea stood. ‘You need a distraction.’

He looked up at his friend. ‘Yeah, I think you’re right. What are you thinking?’

Flea gave a lopsided smile. ‘You get three guesses, and the first two don’t count.’

‘Dollar movie night.’

‘Let’s do it.’

Two theaters on Sports Arena Boulevard hosted the nights twice a week and packed the house with college students and local military. As they left the building, Julie and Knife ambled up.

‘Weren’t you guys headed to the Stacks?’ Knife asked.

‘Change of plans.’ Flea frowned. ‘Gotta run a rescue mission.’ He pointed at Vincent. ‘This man needs to get his mind off Friday. He’s useless as is and needs a dose of dollar movie. Are you with us?’

Julie and Knife nodded. ‘You’re right. The circumstances are critical.’ Knife said.

Julie felt Vincent’s forehead and chest. ‘His vitals are low; there’s no time to waste.’

Grabbing his arms, they ran toward the parking lot. She grinned up at him as they jogged. ‘Your car
is
up here, right?’

He pointed to the little white hatchback. ‘There she is.’

Flea and Knife refused to sit in the front, claiming it was ‘her seat.’ Watching them contort themselves into the back was a good pre-movie show. Like most college students, they were just happy to have a ride. When they arrived, Vincent circled around the back of the complex. The dark area usually had spots open because people didn’t like leaving their cars there. The first time he did it, Flea asked, ‘Aren’t you afraid your car will get stolen?’

‘What’s there to steal? They’d probably bring it back after a block or two.’ At over three hundred thousand miles, it had seen better days, but still purred right along.

Tonight, places to park were farther out than normal. They walked toward the breezeway of the building a couple hundred feet away. A few lampposts dotted the lot but with the fog they were only identifiable as soft glowing points of light. Knife and Flea went ahead to provide a little privacy. Stray litter and scattered bottles dotted the way.

‘Watch your step, Julie.’ Vincent offered his hand, and she took it.

Near the building Vincent patted his pockets. ‘Dang it, I left my wallet in the car. Go catch the guys and I’ll run back to get it.’

‘Silly man.’ She kissed his cheek then called out, ‘Hey, wait up.’

After retrieving it he jogged toward the dim outline of the waiting group. He passed a line of vehicles along the back of the building and from the shadows a harsh voice growled, ‘Worthless whore. That’ll cost ya.’

A female voice gasped, ‘No — ’

Vincent heard the unmistakable sound of someone being slapped. Hard.
What the heck?
He rounded the front of a van and saw the outline of a large man straddling a woman, appearing to strangle her. One of her shoes flipped into the air as her legs flailed against the ground. He grabbed the attacker’s hair to drag him back and a stocking cap came off in his hand
.
Vincent looked at the cap and the guy pushed up, swinging a ham-sized fist at his head. He jerked back, trying to roll with the punch.

As the hard knuckles skidded across his cheekbone, his head snapped around and stars blossomed in Vincent’s vision. He turned with the blow, moving around the side of the van, shaking his head, hoping to get his wits back. Stumbling from between the vehicles, he turned to face the shadows. The man looked back toward the ground. ‘I’ll be back for you shortly, woman.’

Vincent’s head cleared and he saw the gang rushing back. ‘Stop,’ he yelled, then turned his side toward his attacker.

A voice came from the shadows. ‘I’m gonna rip off your head and piss down your neck.’ A mountain of muscle and rage hurtled at him like a pro linebacker. Vincent dove to the left at the last moment then rolled to his feet as the man sailed past.

The attacker spun around and yelled inarticulately, charging, his stance wide. He slowed and dipped to his left, throwing a right cross. As Vincent slipped it, the man drove in, snaring him in a tight embrace, lifting him off his feet, their faces inches apart.

‘I gotcha now.’ His stale breath was an assault in itself. He squeezed and Vincent’s ribs compressed.

‘No!’ Julie screamed.

Vincent clamped his teeth down on the man’s cheek. He tasted blood and bit harder as the brute yelled. Pain forced the man to drop him and Vincent backed away. He bent over, holding his face, so Vincent darted in slamming a palm against his ear before retreating.

The man howled, covering his ear as well. He brought his bloody hands away from his head, clamping them into fists, as he grunted rhythmically. A flap of flesh dangled on his cheek, dark blood streaming from it. Another line of blood coursed from his ear. The fog swirled around them disorienting Vincent — as if a pocket of reality detached itself from the world. He shook his head and blinked as the man convulsed violently. Blind with rage, he barreled at Vincent like a bull goring a matador.

Vincent leaped at him, driving his knee up at the oncoming man like a battering ram. The flying knee strike connected with the point of the attacker’s chin as his head came down. There was a meaty crack as the man’s jawbone snapped. The impact pivoted Vincent in a half circle, flipping his legs into the air and he landed hard on his left shoulder. He staggered to his feet, but the attacker lay in a heap. Vincent could hear his ragged breathing gurgling around his destroyed jaw.

He flopped to the asphalt and put his head in his hands as his friends rushed to his side. ‘Vincent, are you okay?’ Julie asked.

‘Let me check you,’ Knife said.

Vincent waved a hand and looked up. ‘Give me a minute.’

‘I’ll go call 911,’ Flea said and took off like an Olympian.

Knife glanced at the mountainous form nearby. ‘It doesn’t look like this guy’s going anywhere soon. How’d this happen?’

‘By the van...a woman,’ Vincent said.

Julie looked up. ‘Knife, men might not be her favorite thing right now, I’ll go with you.’

‘Good point,’ he said.

Julie put an arm around Vincent’s shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah...but that’s nothing like sparring...I thought he was going to kill me,’ Vincent said.

‘Do you want me to stay here?’

He took a deep breath. ‘No. I need a second anyway.’ He felt like he might throw up and really didn’t want Julie around for it.

‘Okay, sweetie.’

He put his head between his knees, taking deep breaths and got tried to get hold of his rebellious stomach. A few minutes later, Knife and Julie emerged from the darkness. The woman wept softly, leaning on Knife’s shoulder. They stopped near the back of the van.

‘She’s kind of shaken, but who wouldn’t be?’ Julie said as she walked over. ‘She latched onto Knife and won’t let go.’

Vincent stood carefully; everything felt like it was working right. ‘Looks like he’s handling it.’

Julie held him tightly. ‘I was so scared, Vincent.’

‘I’m — ’ A police car rolled out of the fog, lights ablaze. It stopped nearby.

Flea climbed out of the back seat and ran over, followed closely by the officers. ‘They pulled into the parking lot right when I came through the breezeway.’

‘Everyone okay here?’ one of the officers asked.

‘Yeah, we’re all fine,’ Julie said.

Vincent pointed. ‘He might need a new jaw.’

‘Vincent. Your cheek!’ Julie said.

He probed the swollen mass gently. ‘I think it’s okay, but I’ll have a shiner.’ He winced as the adrenaline rush departed.

The police took their statements, and the young woman left in an ambulance, though not before she exchanged phone numbers with Knife.

‘The only time I’ve seen a jaw broken that bad was in a head-on collision where the driver ate the steering wheel,’ the EMT said before carting off the assailant.

They sat in a booth at a nearby Denny’s. They hadn’t been able to talk since everything happened, and as Flea started to, the waitress walked up.

‘Hi, folks, what can I get you tonight?’ She smiled pleasantly, ignoring Vincent’s swollen, deep red cheek.

Julie opened her mouth a few times, but didn’t answer.

‘She’ll have the hot fudge brownie á la mode, and I’ll have a burger with onion rings and chocolate malt, please,’ Vincent said.

‘Just a Coke for me,’ Knife said.

‘Vanilla shake,’ Flea added.

‘Can I get some ice, too, please?’ Vincent looked up at her.

‘Sure. I’ll have that right out.’ She nodded, her brows drawn.

They sat silently.
Talk about a night out.

‘That brownie thing has, like, a million calories,’ Julie said.

‘It’s okay,’ Vincent said, ‘sugar helps counteract adrenaline drop-off.’

‘You know this how?’ Flea asked.

The waitress brought him a white cotton cloth loaded with ice. ‘We crushed it for you; if you need more, just call.’ She patted his arm and left.

‘She is
so
getting a huge tip,’ Vincent said, as he carefully put the ice pack on his face. He sighed. ‘Sweets always worked after a tournament, Flea.’

‘I was...’ A tear ran down Julie’s cheek. ‘That...’

His heart melted seeing her like this, Vincent put his arm around her and she leaned against him. They sat that way until the food came, then ate slowly.

‘So,’ Knife eventually said, ‘that went...well.’

‘I got lucky.’

‘Weren’t you scared?’ Fear tinted Julie’s voice. ‘He was huge.’

Vincent shook his head. ‘Once everything started, I responded as best as I could. Thanks for stopping when I asked.’

‘Commanded is more like it,’ Flea said.

Vincent smiled and regretted it as his cheek protested. He winced. ‘Well, thanks for listening. I didn’t want you getting hurt.’

‘Happy to help.’ Knife smiled wolfishly.

‘I’m up for the not getting hurt, anytime, just let me know, and I’m there for you,’ Flea added, bringing chuckles all around.

‘Oww... Oh...no laughing,’ Vincent said.

‘So what’s with the big pile of food?’ Knife asked him.