Chapter 2: The Alpha
1522 Words
Chapter 2: The Alpha
Angry dwarves were trying to mine their way out of Kit's skull.
Groaning, he tried to sit up only to have a wave of nausea pass over him. Kit chose to stop moving in favor of keeping whatever was in his stomach---well, in his stomach.
"If you throw up on yourself? I'm not cleaning you up. You'll just have to wear it."
Kit recognized Sarcastic Guy's voice. He closed his eyes and became captivated by the light show happening behind his eyelids. Was that from the chiseling dwarves or the gremlins rolling around in his stomach? If he'd been in his classroom, he would have asked his kids. People underestimated the creativity of first-graders.
"Can you tell me what to call you?"
"Can I? Yes. Will I? No. Why? You said yourself: what does it matter?"
"I'm just tired of thinking of you as 'Sarcastic Guy.' I know killers have a hard time killing someone if they see them as a person. I was thinking maybe I'd have a hard time thinking of you as a psycho killer if you had a name."
Pain colored every word out of Kit's mouth; he felt as if he'd swallowed gravel. What had they hit him with? A sledgehammer?
Raising his hands to rub at his temples, Kit tried to keep his pain to himself. He thought he'd seen a 20/20 special where the interviewer emphasized not showing weakness or signs of pain. Something about psychos getting turned on by pain so if the victim didn't react right, they stopped hurting them. Didn't they let them go if they weren't getting what they wanted out of it?
"Honestly? 'Sarcastic Guy' works great for him. His name is Jordan. I'm his brother, Jericho, and our brother Zion is guarding the door. We've got a sister, too. Does that make you feel better?"
Jericho had a calm, easy voice; Kit felt considerably better after listening to him name his family.
Normal people had brothers and sisters. Psychos were usually only children who spent their childhoods locked in closets where they had to kneel on nails or something, right?
"Do you want help sitting up?"
Kit tried to shake his head, but only managed a sick groan, "Thanks, but I think I'll just lay here and pretend to be dead. It works for some wild animals. Survival instinct."
Both men laughed though Kit didn't feel particularly funny. He swallowed back bile, opening his eyes to try to settle his nerves if not his stomach. If he could put faces to the names, Kit thought he would feel as if he were on more even ground. He could describe them to the police if he survived.
Surviving was becoming a serious goal for him.
"You don't look much alike. Let me guess, he takes after your mother and you take after your father?"
"Close," Jordan said, "We both look like our fathers. None of us took after our mother. She was like you. It's a wolf understanding un-wolf mates don't pass on many traits if their pups are worth keeping in the pack."
And they were back to being on drugs.
Great.
Scooting back on the bed, Kit let the headboard hold him up as he tried to get his bearings. He blinked deliberately to refocus his eyes. Their room was nothing to write home about. It was a bedroom with a boring bedroom set with no distinct features. The whole place was grey and white with a few red accents which looked as if they'd been thrown in recently to give the place some color.
"Are you a cult? You worship animals and I disrespected your god or something running on the trail?"
"A cult?"
Jericho sounded offended; Kit hoped he didn't get hit again. He was hard-pressed to come up with a time in his life he'd felt worse.
"You're creative. I'll give you that. Do you read a lot or something? You don't look like you spend all day behind a desk getting fat."
"Jordan!"
It was Kit's turn to laugh. He could count himself lucky for having an interest in hiking trails and running. Before this experience, Kit had been health-conscious, wanting to make the most of life, seize the day! Teaching small children kept him on his toes. If he wasn't careful, he'd get run over with those kids.
"I like hiking. Running. I've always been a fan of trails. I'm from the West Coast. I hiked Joshua Tree, Bigfoot, and the CCT. California Coastal Trail. I saw a map of the Appalachian Trail and started looking it over---it felt like home. I moved to be able to try to hike it. Figures the place I find to feel at home is the place I wind up getting snatched and murdered."
"Why are you so convinced you're getting murdered? Do I have 'murderer face' or something?"
Jericho rolled his eyes, "You have a lazy face. We aren't going to murder you. Why would I introduce us if we were going to murder you?"
"Lull me into a false sense of security so I cooperate before you kill me. It could be a psychological thing. Psycho killers are supposed to be really smart."
"I thought psycho killers were supposed to be really crazy? Like they get caught because they can't plan or think rationally?"
"Serial killers are usually only caught after years because they're smart. I've seen a lot of true crime shows. And police shows. I like police shows. They get the bad guy. What's not to like?"
"Being continuously referred to as 'the bad guy' or a 'psycho killer'? I could live without that." Jordan said, standing up to stretch, "I think we may get an answer on what happens to you soon. Our alpha is coming. It's up to the alpha what happens to you so if I were you? I'd work on being polite and respectful."
Kit couldn't hear anything. How did they know someone was coming? Maybe they'd gotten a text? Did psycho killers have smartphones or smart watches or maybe the voices in their heads were talking to them---?
The door flew open, rebounded off the wall, and ultimately scared the life out of Kit.
He had no idea what or who he expected to enter the room, but the tall woman who arrived was not it.
"Alpha! We're glad you were able to---"
"Get out."
Jordan shut up immediately. He and Jericho both bowed as if they were facing royalty, leaving in silence with a lot more speed than grace.
The woman caught Kit's eyes -hers were a strange golden-brown he couldn't look away from while he knew his own were boring blue- staring him down as she crossed the room to sit at the foot of the bed. She was well-built for a woman. Lean muscles with precious little fat anywhere on her body. Her dark hair was tied back in a high ponytail which emphasized her cheekbones. No make-up hid her features.
She was the most unique looking woman Kit had ever seen.
"They hurt you. They were told not to. Do you want them to die?"
Kit lost his breath as she studied his face. Her voice held very little warmth.
He knew she was asking a real question of him: did he want them to die?
"No. I think they just---didn't know what else to do. I was scared. On the trail. I had been running. They might have thought they wouldn't be able to catch me if I took off on them. I don't know. I don't think they meant to hurt me. Apparently I've got a softer head than they thought or they hit harder than they realized. I've got a headache and I feel sick to my stomach, but I'm okay. I think I'm okay. I might need a head CT."
Kit stopped babbling only because his voice was starting to echo in the silent room. Why wasn't she saying anything?
She nodded slowly, "You will receive any medical care you need. Our healer will attend to you. If she cannot heal you, stop your suffering, I'll make her pay."
Why was he getting more scared the more she talked? He'd thought he was being held by psycho killers. Shouldn't he feel more calm knowing he wasn't wrong?
"Who are you?"
She looked away from him, grimacing as if she were the one with a bad taste in her mouth, "I am Janus of the Two Faces. Alpha of the Blue Ridge Pack."
"Are you going to kill me?"
Her eyes jerked back to him and she snapped, "I don't kill anyone without justification. I'm an animal, but I'm not a monster."
What was he supposed to say to that?
Kit felt a kinship to Alice who'd followed a rabbit only to wind up in Wonderland. Why hadn't Carroll emphasized how intensely afraid Alice had to have been?
"Thank you. I think. I don't want to die."
Kit realized Carroll probably hadn't focused on Alice's fear because he was telling a children's story and children were filled with wonder the way the name 'Wonderland' suggested.
It took growing up to realize there were more reasons to be afraid than wondrous.
"I'd kill myself before I'd kill you."
Janus leaned closer to him on the bed, her breath tickled his lips as she whispered, "You're my mate."
Then she was kissing him and Kit forgot all about being afraid.
- Writer
