Toy Soldiers - 8. Chapter 8

The officer approached and fixed me with his flashlight, “What might you be doing out here son?”

“I’m taking a walk sir.”

“Bit of a strange place for a walk ain’t it?”

“I came by way of the woods,” I replied.

“What’s your name son?”

“Sage Green, sir.”

“Green?” the officer asked suspiciously. “You wouldn’t happen to know a Harlequin Green would you now Sage?”

“He…” I started quickly then stopped to think up a suitable lie. This officer knew Harley. If I played my cards right he might lead me right to him. My beacon was in my pack, I couldn’t reach it now but I was trained to improvise and overcome obstacles. I would have to find another way to contact them. “He’s my brother sir.”

“Do you know where your parents are, Sage? Where you boys are from?”

“I…no sir, I don’t know,” I replied truthfully.

“Uh huh, seems like that runs in the family. Well at least you’ve got your clothes on,” the officer scoffed then thumbed the radio mike on his shoulder. “Control, this is Zero-Six, do you copy?”

“Copy Zero-Six, go ahead Malcolm.”

“I’ve got a teenage boy here, says his name is Sage Green. Can you contact Myrtle Snow and let her know I’m bringing him over? She’s gonna love this.”

Harlequin

I had decided to go while my anger was fresh, before I had time to over-think and fail to act. The home was large, ostentatious would be an accurate description. Each upper floor window had a balcony with wrought iron railings. The walls were red brick and the windows and doors were done in white trim. The front door had a small semi-circular roof above it and fluted columns supported it. I circled the residence, looking for cameras, automated lights and other defense mechanisms.

There was one motion sensitive light in the back, but other than that the house had the feeling of low hanging fruit. A home whose occupants were so sure of their safety and status that there was no chance someone would try to burgle them or worse – the home reeked of arrogance. The lights inside were off, and I knew this would delay me as I searched for Brent. I decided that speed was more valuable than stealth for the moment and approached a window outside the sensor cone of the light in the back. Peering in the window I saw it led to the kitchen – the window was just in front of the sink. With a final check to look for wires or sensors, I cracked the lower pane of glass with my elbow. I pushed again, forcing the cracked glass inward and listened. If there was an alarm, it was silent. All the more reason to rush, now.

I pushed my gloved hand through and released the catch, then slithered through the open window and onto the counter top. I glanced about quickly and spotted a knife block and selected a slim filleting knife. I moved quickly from the kitchen and spotted stairs to the upper level. I slipped up the stairs, staying to the edges of the step to minimize noise. Reaching the upper level I was disappointed that the door to Brent's room was not labeled as Tim's had been. I did have something nearly as good, though.

A voice. A young mans' voice. I moved down the hall towards the sound, stepping lightly but quickly. I paused, listened.

“I warned you, Samantha. You are mine. Next time I'll cut the little punks throat, but first I'll fuck him so you can see – again – what a pussy he is.”

I entered the room. He was sitting in a chair, looking at a screen. So secure in his home, in his room, that he never suspected me. I grabbed him under the jaw and yanked his head back, and then drew the knife from cheek bone to cheekbone, scraping his teeth as I did so. He spasmed at my rough handling, but then was overwhelmed with pain. He opened his mouth to scream, his cheeks separating and flopping, bleeding. I retreated down the hall and down the stairs, hearing footsteps hit the floor and start to run from another room.

Then I was downstairs and through the main door, setting off a bell alarm, and out into the night. I made my way quickly, moving to the edge of the mighty Hudson and throwing the knife out to the middle. Then I weighted my gloves down with stones and threw them out as well. I tied the arms of my coat into knots and filled it as well before tossing it as far as I could. Now freezing I hurried back to the residence.

Malcolm's police car was in front of the building. Why? Surely I could not have been suspected so quickly? Not unless my assessment of the home had been fantastically off. As I waited in the shadows across the street Malcolm came running out of the residence, sprinting to his car. Apparently he was being summoned at last.

With no lights on upstairs, I decided I hadn't been the focus of his visit. So I dashed across the street and scaled the tree. Pulling myself up on the thick branch I made my way as close to the window as I dared and called out to Cass. No response. I pulled a piece of bark from the branch and tossed it against the glass. Moments later the window slid up and I hurtled onto the sill, balanced precariously, then dropped into the room.

“What took so long?” Cass hissed. “I thought you were a fucking goner when Malcolm pulled up.”

“Why was he here?” I whispered as I closed the window and stripped down to a tee and underwear – who knew how much time I had if someone was coming up to look in on us.

“I don't know. New kid, probably – only thing I can think of now that you're here.”

“Malcolm just left,” I said with a sigh of relief. “He has a busy night ahead of him.”

“What happened? How's Tim?”

I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. “Tim was maimed, but his spirit is intact. I have returned the favor to Brent Mullaney.”

“Are you stupid?” Cass asked.

“I assume that is rhetorical?”

“Harley. Brent is going to tell his dad how he hurt Tim. Then his dad is going to assume Tim had something to do with messing up his golden boy and he's going to be gunning for Tim.”

I frowned in the darkness. “Is the father as bad as the son?”

“Worse. Brent beat up a couple kids, real bad a few years ago. His dad managed to get the people to leave town – one of them even had their house burned down. He's real bad news.”

“Then I have to stop him,” I sighed. “Cass. We have to leave town.”

“We? And go where?”

“What I told you about the Corporation...you shouldn't know. If they come looking...they'll kill you.”

“You still want me to believe you're serious about all that?” Cass scoffed.

“I do. I'm deadly serious.”

“Well,” he thought it over for a moment. “I'll go on one condition.”

“What?” I said, too tired to fight him.

“You can't leave me behind. I got a decent thing going here now and you? I like you. But you leave me I'll get caught and then it's back to dear old fucking dad. So if I go, you gotta understand – you can't lose me.”

“I understand, and I wouldn't leave you, Cass. If it weren't that I thought your life was in danger, I'd leave you here. But it is in danger, and I can't leave you.”

“You give a crap about me, don't you?” Cass asked. He tried to say it in a tone full of bluster, but I'd heard too many plaintive questions. Too many hopeful voices.

“Yes, Cass. I'm fond of you.”

We lay in silence for no more than twenty seconds before the stairs creaked with the weight of someone climbing them. Then our door opened and the light from the hallway filled our room.

“Mr. Greene. Please wake up, won't you?” Myrtle Snow said from the doorway. I sat up.

“I'm awake.” I pulled the covers back and swung my feet to the floor. My assumption was she had an urgent need to speak with me. Nothing good ever happens when you are woken in the middle of the night.

“Good. Your brother is here.”

I froze, my head turned toward her and my eyes searching hers.

“Harley? Does she mean Sage?” Cass asked. My heart leapt then crashed. If it were Sage...what were the odds he'd arrived here with me by chance? Was he tracking me, to join me? Had he missed me as I had him? No, he had orders, he knew the danger – he was too smart.

“Come, Mr. Greene. Let's get this family reunion started.”

I followed her, bare feet whispering across the carpeted floor. Down the stairs we went and into the dining room where sat Sage. While alarm bells went off in my head that he should not be here, I could not help smiling at the sight of him. He looked good – well fed, healthy. He'd been ill when I'd seen him last, trying to avoid going to the infirmary as did we all. His mouth did not lift and, for a moment, my heart broke that he wasn't pleased to see me.

That likely meant he wasn't pleased to be here. No, the Sage I knew would have followed my orders unless he couldn't. But what would compel him to follow me? What could possibly be so important? Why me?

“So, Harlequin. This is your brother, Sage?” Ms. Myrtle Snow asked as she sat and watched my face. I kept staring at Sage. If the Corporation were here we were all about to die. Perhaps if he'd stand by the stained glass I could go out with both items of beauty in my mind – but I would settle on looking at Sage.

“They don't even look similar,” Mrs. Klein huffed. “They're lying.”

“Perhaps,” Myrtle said. “But Cassidy asked Harley if it might be Sage downstairs, so I think they must know one another.”

“Sage is my dear...”I cleared my throat, coughed slightly on the emotion. Expecting to die any moment, so he should know. “Sage is my dearest brother. I'm grateful to see him again.”

The room was silent, the shot didn't come. Sage's face remained still; no response to my statement. Had they poisoned his mind with chemicals? Was he still my Sage?

“You never mentioned a brother, before,” Myrtle said. “Are there more of you?”

“Yes,” Sage replied, his first words. Why would he say yes?

“Oh really? How many?”

We remained silent. Then Sage yawned. I knew that yawn; it was patently fake. He used it on me when he was tired of listening to me. Was he trying to tell me to say nothing? Did he think me a fool?

“Well, it's the middle of the night. Whatever is going on can keep till morning,” Mrs. Klein said, yawning herself. “I don't like talking to boys in their underwear. Sage, lets get you settled in bed.”

Sage stood and walked with her. As he passed me by I yearned to reach for him and, perhaps sensing this, he made a sudden step in my direction. I thought, for a moment, he was going to kill me – and if he was so far gone that he would, I wouldn't fight it. But then his arms were around me. A hug. I put my arms around him and tilted my head down, smelling his hair. He wasn't broken. Then he was gone and I heard them ascend the stairs.

Myrtle placed a hand on my forearm and moved close, close enough to smell something unpleasant on her breath. “I don't mind boys in their underwear. I think you have secrets you need kept,” her hand was suddenly on my groin, caressing. “I can keep your secrets if you can keep mine.”

My mind was suddenly like a misfiring engine. No one had ever touched me there. I wasn't pleased that she was the first, but I wasn't sure how to make it stop without causing fatal damage and having to leave that instant. She continued to stroke the front of my underwear and, to my horror, I began to respond.

“I see you need a woman's touch, Harley,” she whispered into my ear. I shuddered. She gripped and sighed, “this will do nicely.”

“Ma'am,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Oh, no need for that. You want to keep you and your brother safe from whatever you're hiding from, you just make sure you make me happy,” she leaned in and said, “very happy.”

She stepped away at the first sounds of someone – likely Mrs. Klein – coming down the stairs. Without the physical stimulation my aroused state quickly subsided.

“He tell you anymore?” Mrs. Klein asked.

“No, but I have a plan. I'll pick him up tomorrow evening – say six?”

“Okay. Go on, Harley, back to bed with you,” Mrs. Klein made a shooing motion. I walked back up the stairs feeling panicked. I entered my bedroom and sat on my bed.

“Was it Sage?” Cass asked.

“Yes.”

“No shit?”

“No. It was him. But something's wrong. He shouldn't be here.”

“Why not? Is he hot?”

“He's beautiful,” I said, distractedly. I glanced at Cass. “Has Ms. Snow ever...fondled you?”

“Uh, not even in my nightmares. Why?”

I let my foot bounce, now fully awake and on edge. I had to speak to Sage. I had to find out why I was still alive – and if there was a way to keep us both like that. I desperately needed to be gone before six tomorrow – I could not endure being caressed in that manner, not by someone so...ugly. I had thought her kind before, but she was putrid to the bone. She thought she held a strong hand and was going to force me to...perform for her. The thought made me ill.

I had control over so little, I'd always said no. The ones I'd harbored hopes of asking never had. I'd made sure Sage could say no. I would not go to her pallet. Standing I started to walk to the door and then placed my ear to the flat surface.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh.”

I listened. Myrtle said goodnight. Mrs. Klein gave a goodbye to the night staff, who was still downstairs. My chance was now and I opened the door. Sage.