Tormented (2 page)

“I’m sorry,” he said, and meant every word of it.

She handed him a piece of paper that the kiosk had spit out and pointed toward another line. Benjamin grabbed his suitcase and walked toward it, weaving and weary, eyes dripping, nose doing the same, his head fuzzy beyond belief, feet dragging. He headed toward the place the woman had pointed him and saw people forming the line, leaving a large gap between two groups of them, two families. He thought it a little strange but rubbed at his eyes, grateful for some distance from the dog, hoping for a miracle, hoping that he would be able to stop crying.

The line moved like no one running it had any care. In ten minutes Benjamin moved five feet. He couldn’t see more than blurry shapes, couldn’t smell much of anything through his still-running nose. The man in front of him moved again, walking wide around the small patch of space the families in front of him had left open, and Benjamin thought nothing of it, he just followed the man so as not to jam up the line. Just because the people in front of him were being rude by leaving all that space didn’t mean he had to, after all.

He heard the squish, but it didn’t register to him what he’d stepped in until he heard the laughter and caught the faintest whiff of—

Of

the dog

the damned dog

“You stepped in dog poo,” the woman two in front of him said, more than a little amused. He couldn’t see her face, it was a blur through the tears, but he recognized the voice. He’d heard her speak on the plane when asking the flight attendant for a vegetarian meal. It was the woman next to him, the one who’d bombed his head with a suitcase and not even apologized.

“Hahahahaha!” he heard from ahead. The girl, the one with the dog. Laughing that he’d soiled his shoes. Laughing—

that

HER dog

had soiled his

HIS

shoes

“Ugh, that’s disgusting.” The man directly in front of him turned back. His features were all washed out, like someone had smeared Vaseline over Benjamin’s eyes. “Heh.” He chuckled—

and Benjamin

saw

the color red

vivid as an apple

dark like

blood

and it covered his vision.

The laughter swirled around his head. They were laughing at him—

at ME

all of them

at ME

and he’d been so nice

SO DAMNED NICE

and taken their bullshit

why?

“Why?” It came out whispered, low, out of his scratchy and hurting throat.

“You asked for it, man,” the guy in front of him said. “You stepped right in it—”

asked for

it?

for IT?

for meanness

rudeness

unkindness

allergies

tears

pain

delays

an utter lack of care and concern and acknowledgment for his own HIS OWN
HIS OWN

humanity?

“I … didn’t …” he gasped out. He felt so hot. So-

Hot

Feverish

Benjamin let out a hard, scratching breath that stroked his vocal chords like pins dragged roughly across sensitive skin. He smelled smoke. Smelled—

Fire

orange like a sunrise

smoke

black like a thundercloud at midnight

and then

Benjamin Cunningham did something he’d never done before.

He exploded into a fireball that burned through the belt-lines that hemmed him in—

shattered the windows that held him back

vaporized the people—AND YOUR LITTLE DOG, TOO, DAMMIT—around him

—and laid the U.S Customs area in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport to utter waste.

His hands smoking, fingers still burning with fire, Benjamin Cunningham walked numbly and nakedly toward the nearest sign that said EMERGENCY EXIT, past the baggage claim in the customs area. He picked up his suitcase as he passed, causally, as though he hadn’t just crossed the burning wreckage of the customs checkpoint naked. Fire alarms screamed in his ears, smoke as black as coal filled the air.

But his eyes were dry.

His throat was clear.

And he left a trail of scorched, black ground behind him as he walked, suitcase rolling behind him, feeling strangely free, to collect his car from the parking garage.

I could smell autumn in the air as the wind off Lake Superior hit me full in the face. I was riding at the front of a ferryboat, embracing the September weather and staring out over the sparkling waters. The sound of the boat’s engines rumbled quietly in the background, and I could see the paradise of Bayscape Island ahead, waiting for me, a peaceful respite in the middle of a world of roaring chaos.

Peace? Me? Haha, right?

But it was peace I was seeking, on an island off the shores of the Northwoods of Wisconsin. I took a breath of fresh air that was not in reality much different from the air I breathed every day on the campus of my agency, southwest of Minneapolis. But it felt a world different, like it had been imported from somewhere across the planet just for me, chilled in a freezer and puffed whole into my lungs.

“Hell of a view, huh?” There was a guy next to me at the railing. I glanced over at him; he was a bigger guy, probably in his fifties, greying all around the temples but only salt and pepper up top.

“It’s not bad,” I conceded. Call me paranoid, but I’m immediately suspicious of anyone who talks to me these days. Sign of the times.

“You can’t beat it for peaceful,” he said, staring into the bright blue skies above. He was dressed in jeans and a polo-style shirt. Reminded me a little of my brother like that. “Nice place to get away from the rat race.”

“Mmm,” I said, noncommittal. Why did people insist on approaching me? Wasn’t it blazingly obvious by now what a bad idea that was?

“You’re her, aren’t you?” he asked, finally turning his head to look at me.

“If you think I’m Taylor Swift, then the answer is no.”

He laughed. “No, I don’t think you’re Taylor Swift.”

“Good, because my singing voice? Not so impressive,” I said. “Also, I haven’t yet mined my personal romantic tragedies for lyrical gold.” Though there was certainly some fertile ground to work with in that area.

The guy laughed again, a lilting, genuine laugh that drifted over me. “That’s a good one. No, I meant you’re Sienna Nealon.”

I blinked, the wind off the water blowing straight into my eyes. “I’m Sienna Nealon,” I agreed.

“Everybody’s got to get away some time, huh? Even you famous types.”

I didn’t look at him. “We ‘famous’ people are mostly like the rest of you. Also, I might have gone with ‘notorious’ in my case.”

“Mostly, huh?” he asked, with a trace of humor. “Put your pants on one leg at a time and all that?”

“Well, no,” I said. “I sort of lift off the ground into the air and drift down into my pants like a falling leaf. But other than that, I’m just like you normals. Except I can explode into flames on command. And heal wounds in seconds flat. And—”

He chuckled again. “Is snark one of your powers? Because it’s … strong with you.”

“That’s one of my more human attributes,” I said and glanced at him. “One of the few, I’m told.”

“It’s a good one,” he said, nodding. “My kids are like that, always got a good, dry remark about whatever we’re doing. It’s a nice trait to have on hand. Keeps things from getting too serious.”

“Glad someone thinks so,” I said.

“I’m Jake,” he said, drifting toward me and offering a hand. “Jake Terrance.”

I took his hand gently, for just a moment, giving it a quick pump before letting it loose. He didn’t push the connection. “Nice to meet you, Jake. Your family with you today?”

“Kids are all grown up now, but my wife’s already on Bayscape,” he said, gesturing to the swelling, tree-covered island in the distance. It was getting closer all the time. “Her name’s Sarah. We liked it up here so much she took a job as the local nurse. I just did a quick run to the mainland for supplies.”

“You live here year-round?”

“All the time now,” he said, nodding his head. His features were sharp, his smile warm. “It’s paradise. Like heaven on earth.”

“Really?” I asked. “I heard in the winters the temperature gets down to—”

He gave me a coy smile. “It’s very cold, yes.”

I shook my head. “I can barely tolerate Minneapolis. Can’t imagine what you deal with.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Ferry shuts down when the ice gets out on the lake, and there’s only a few hundred permanent residents, so … it’s basically like being a shut-in for the winter. Kind of nice for a social outcast like my wife. I’d be lying if I said the solitude didn’t get to me every now and again.”

I cast my eyes forward again, staring at the island ahead. I had two weeks to spend here, two glorious weeks of no work, no stress, nothing to do to fill my time but that which I brought in my bag—which was a tablet filled with movies and an e-reader filled with books. “Solitude might be nice. Is it crowded right now?”

He nodded toward the trees in the distance. “Autumn’s creeping in earlier than expected this year, so the leaves are turning quicker than people thought they would. Place is pretty desolate now, but it’ll get busy this weekend. Even busier next weekend, even though the leaves will be mostly fallen by then.” He cocked his head at me, a little curious. “There are quieter places you could see the leaves. Hell, wait a few weeks and you’ll see them down in Minneapolis. Why come up here now?”

I opened my mouth to draw breath and answer, but found I couldn’t find a way to easily explain it. “I … just needed to get away for a while.”

“Mmhmm,” he said, nodding like he knew. “You’ve got one of those jobs that demands all, I suppose.”

“Something like that.” I pulled my arms close around me as the chill of the wind felt somehow more powerful, more penetrating. My job certainly wasn’t demanding much of me at the moment. Quite the opposite, in fact.

He slapped the rail with one hand and stood upright; I could tell he was looking for a polite exit. “I suspect you’ll find what you’re looking for here.”

“I could use some solitude,” I said, looking off into the distance again.

“Well, there are the places on the island you could go where you won’t run into another human being—if that’s what you want. But during the summer we’ve got all the bars and restaurants and small-town charm you could hope for if you change your mind. Nice to meet you, Sienna,” he said and started to pull away. “I hope you have a peaceful stay.”

“Thank you,” I said, struggling to remember his name, “Jake.” He wandered off toward the back of the ferry, where the cars were parked. I watched him go out of the corner of my eye, and as soon as I was alone, I turned back to the front to stare out at the glistening lake. “I hope so, too.”

The Minneapolis-St. Paul airport had a burned smell that hung in the air like a particularly heinous oven accident, the kind that always seemed to follow my sister’s cooking attempts.

I’m sorry. That was crass. Tasteless. Way too soon.

There was still smoke billowing out of the terminal when we got there, what seemed like a hundred fire engines parked out front. Flight operations had been shut down, and the FBI had taken forever to call us for some reason. Like handling crazy meta stuff wasn’t our specialty.

My fancy shoes were tight on my toes as we made our way toward the international flights area from the baggage claim, our guide hustling along in front of us under a cloud of annoyance. I don’t know why he was annoyed; I always thought Agent Li’s beef was with my sister, not with me, but since he’d greeted me and my partner pretty gruffly at the terminal loop, I had started to assume that he was just this kind of person. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it before when we worked together.

“Man, the tension in here is almost as thick as the smoke,” Augustus Coleman said from beside me. He looked a little uncomfortable dressed up in a suit. I was damned sure uncomfortable in mine, but going to a scene like this, we had to project a certain standard. I had my hair back in a ponytail and everything. It sucked. “What is up with you two? Failed romance?”

“With him?” I pointed at Li. “Dear God, no, he’s not my type. I always thought he hated Sienna for killing his college roommate, but now I’m starting to think he’s just got a bug up his ass.”

Agent Li stopped and wheeled slowly around to face us. He looked cold as ice, like someone had chiseled him right out of a block of the stuff and set him out for display as a sculpture to be judged on lifelike realism. I gave him a five out of ten. Not human looking enough. “I’m trying to get to the business at hand. Did you want to stop in the middle of this terrorist attack and have a conversation about how much we must have missed each other since we last worked together? Should we pause for a beer?” He pointed at the Summit Brewery down the terminal, tables knocked over during the evacuation still lying on the ground. “Reminisce about the old times when we were trying to survive a war against overwhelming odds?”

“Hey, man,” I said, “I’m totally down with your standoffish and straight-to-business nature. My partner, though, he’s new to government service. He hasn’t seen the inter-agency pissing matches yet.”

Li just gave me another cold look. “I’m not in a pissing contest with you. This case is all yours. It’s very clearly in your jurisdiction, and I wish you luck with it and all your justice-bringing endeavors.”

“Dude,” I said, turning to Augustus for comic effect, “did you know we’re supposed to be engaging in ‘justice-bringing endeavors’? That feels like a memo I missed.”

“Man, I’m missing a class for this,” Augustus said, suddenly impatient. “And it’s been a few years since I last took an American government course, so I feel like missing lectures could cost me when it comes to my grades. Can we get on with it?”

“You’re in a freshman survey course,” I said. “It’s five hundred people in a crowded auditorium. Find the cutest studious-looking girl in the room, put on the charm, and ask if you can see her notes. It’s a great opportunity. Also, try and remember that we work for the executive branch. Should make things easier on the first test.”