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    Katya Dee
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  • 1,709 Words
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

The First Lock - 34. Part 3, chapter 7

- VII -


“...I think it was me...” he said in a small voice, and all she could do was stare. “When I saw her...” he sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve (a thing Katrena would chew him about if it happened earlier; right now, she didn’t even notice it). “When she hurt you, I got so... I was angry, and scared, and I didn’t know what to do...” he sniffled again. “I knew that she would hurt me again, and then... I don’t know...” he shrugged. “I got really angry, like pissed off, you know...?” he glanced at Katrena, as if cautious of her reaction at the expression he just used. She didn’t even blink. “So then,” he continued, slightly more relaxed. “Something happened, and there was all that fire... I freaked out, mom! I thought it was her who did it...! But then the fire didn’t hurt, I couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t hurt!”

“That’s why I couldn’t find a single trace of the spell,” Katrena thought hazily. “The bitch didn’t cast it, it was Damien... Oh my God, when I broke the Locks, I freed him as well... Jett will get a... Oh my God... Jett!”

She didn’t bother with Conjuring; she simply called upon the same brute force she used on Roxanne a little while ago, and brought it onto the chain of the handcuffs. The chain helplessly meowed and fell apart.

“Come on!” she dragged Damien up on his feet. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah,” he nodded with doubtful frown. “I think so...”

“Come on then!” she nodded and rushed out of the house, making sure he didn't collapse on the floor. He was fine, and she ran towards the car that was sitting across the street.

She stopped in front of the open driver’s window and her heart turned into ice. Jett’s both hands were resting on the steering wheel, hugging it with the fingers. His head lay on the back of the seat, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. There was a steady trickle of blood running from his nose onto his chin.

“Jett...” she called in shaky voice. “Jett...!” She reached out with a trembling hand and pressed her fingers against his neck. The only pulse she felt, was her own. “No, no...” she shook her head blindly. “No... Jett!”

He didn’t respond, didn’t move, and he didn’t even breathe. Katrena started to shake.

“Mom...” Damien said behind her, and she couldn’t move. “Is he the one who talked to me...?”

“Y...Yes...” she stuttered, her entire body shaking as if she had a hell of a fever.

“He is hurt...” Damien muttered.

“Y...Yes...” she stuttered again. “He... He is gone, Damien... He is...”

“He is alive,” the kid interrupted her quickly, and she was finally able to blink and look at him with huge eyes. “He is alive,” Damien nodded.

“He doesn’t...” she swallowed hard. “Damien, he has no pulse...”

“He is alive!” the kid shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t know about his pulse, but I know that he is alive... I can feel it...”

“You sure...?” she whispered, insane hope making her sway on her feet.

“Yeah,” the kid nodded with a small frown. “You gotta get him to a doctor, ‘cause he is hurt really bad...”

Moving Jett into the passenger’s seat was a piece of cake – she simply let the stream of Air do it for her. Then she slid behind the wheel and glanced at Damien who was sitting rigidly in the back seat.

“Buckle up, monkey!” she commanded in a shaky voice.

“I am not a monkey,” he said automatically and obediently buckled up.

“Keep everyone out of my way,” Katrena said before throwing the car into gear. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, and she nodded and floored the gas pedal.


...The kid certainly knew how to keep everyone out of Katrena’s way. She was flying down the road, and everyone would simply pull over when they noticed her car, as if she was driving a fire truck with the siren wailing. She saw a police cruiser and panicked for a second (not because she was afraid to get a ticket – all the cops around here knew her by now; not a single one would give her a ticket – but because if he pulled her over, it would take precious time, time she didn’t have), but the cop behind the wheel did the same thing as everyone else – he pulled to the side of the road.

When they got closer to the hospital, she quickly said without turning her head:

“Make them think they know him, okay? He doesn’t have any I.D., so make them think that the I.D. and any other paperwork had been taken care of... Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Damien muttered from the back seat. “No problemo...”

She brought the car to a screeching halt in front of the sliding doors of emergency room, and several nurses rushed outside, one of them was pushing a wheelchair in front of her.

“We got the call, Mr. Bryant!” one of the nurses said quickly, staring at Jett. Then she glanced at Katrena. “We got the call,” she repeated, and then the nurses dragged Jett out of the car and loaded him into the wheelchair. “We’ll let you know how things are right after the surgery,” the same girl said, throwing another quick glance at Katrena, before they wheeled the chair inside.

Katrena took a shaky breath and threw the car into gear.

“Mr. Bryant...?” she said several minutes later, looking for a parking spot. “As in Kobe Bryant...?”

“Yeah,” Damien said in a small voice.

Katrena finally noticed an empty parking spot.

“Kobe Bryant is black,” she said while pulling in to the spot. “And he is a hell of a lot taller... They don’t look even remotely alike!”

“Yeah, well...” Damien shrugged. “He is my favorite; I couldn’t think of anyone else, he just popped into my head... They didn’t seem to care,” he shrugged again.

“Good point,” Katrena agreed and turned off the car. “Let’s go!”




She called Mandy at 9:30 in the morning, after she downed God knows how many cups of machine-made coffee and smoked almost the entire pack of cigarettes, ignoring No Smoking sign in front of the building.

“Mandy,” she said quietly after she heard a cheerful ‘Hello!’

“Kat?” Mandy sounded alarmed now. “What happened? Your voice is...”

“You busy?” Katrena interrupted her and threw the empty paper cup into the trashcan.

“No,” Mandy said quickly. “Not at all! What happened?”

“Can you get to the hospital?”

“Hospital?!” Mandy’s voice flew up an octave. “Oh, Jesus...! Is something wrong with Damien...?”

“No,” Katrena absent-mindedly played with her lighter. “Not Damien... And not me,” she added after a second.

“Then who is... Never mind,” Mandy said as quickly as before. “Which hospital?”

“Ann Jordan Memorial,” Katrena left the lighter alone and shoved it into her pocket.

“Yeah,” Mandy muttered busily. Katrena knew that she was looking around for her car keys. “I’ll be right there...!”


...She got into the lobby fifteen minutes later, looked around until she noticed Katrena, and quickly walked towards her.

“Kat!” she called rather loudly, and Katrena turned around.

Mandy blinked when she saw how pale Katrena was, and she blinked more rapidly when she noticed that white strand of her hair.

“What...” Mandy muttered, and Katrena squeezed out a grimace that resembled a twisted smile.

She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and looked at Damien who was busy with a thick book of word-search puzzles – one of the nurses gave it to him half an hour or so ago.

“Damien!” she called quietly, and he looked up.

Katrena demonstrated her pack of cigarettes, and the boy nodded seriously.

“Got it,” he said and returned to his book, absent-mindedly tucking a dark strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Come on,” Katrena breathed, trying to ignore the fact that Damien’s gesture was an exact copy of Jett’s.

“You can’t smoke in front of the hospital,” Mandy frowned when they went outside.

“I am not in front of it,” Katrena said seriously. “I am rather on the side.”

“Kat,” Mandy shook her head. “They will give you a hell of a fine!”

Katrena gave her a strange look and her lips tried to fold into a smile. They failed.

“I’ll be okay,” she nodded. “As long as Damien controls the situation, I’ll be okay...”

“Damien...” Mandy muttered with a very confused expression. “Kat, what’s going on?”

Katrena took a deep drag on her cigarette and closed her eyes for a minute or so, trying to figure out what to say, and how to say it. At first, she wanted to make up yet another story, but then she figured that Mandy deserved to know the truth. Therefore, she opened her eyes, took another drag on her diminishing cigarette, and said quietly:

“Mandy, I am going to tell you a story now... My story,” she added after a few seconds.

“Amnesia...” Mandy narrowed her eyes.

“...was a load of crock,” Katrena nodded slowly. “Let me tell you the story, and you will understand why I made that thing up, okay?” she said quickly after Mandy’s expression became offended and hurt.

“All right,” Mandy stiffly nodded with tension in her voice. “Go ahead...”

Katrena nodded and thoughtfully looked at her cigarette.

“See,” she said finally. “It started when I found out that I was pregnant...” She threw a quick glance at Mandy. “That was impossible, just so you know. Not because I was careful and stuff like that, no,” she shook her head when Mandy looked like she was about to say something sarcastic. “It was physically impossible. People like me are incapable of having children...”

“People like you?” Mandy frowned, and Katrena sighed.

“I guess I better rewind a bit,” she said and took a last drag on her cigarette before dropping it on the ground and smashing her heel onto it, just so she could pull another one out of an almost empty pack. “Okay, let me start over...”

©Katya Dee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Jett lives!! Now Mandy, her best friend, is in for the long delayed and deserves truth. Her bestie is an X woman.

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