“Hey, sweetheart, I’m here to check on my box,” I said.
“Name?”
The Society didn’t give me a name. “William Martin.”
She stopped clicking on the keyboard. Her smile was still in place. “Follow me.”
Now I was a little freaked out.
Her hands had been poised on the keyboard to type in to find me and now she wanted me to follow her without typing a damn thing. I listened to orders.
She put up a sign saying she’d be back in a minute, and then we were walking down a short corridor.
“Your box will be here any minute,” the cashier said as she showed me to a small private room.
Something on her cuff caught my attention, and I saw the tattoo. It was pretty hard to miss on the inside of her wrist.
The sign that said she was part of The Society. I kept still. She had been expecting me today.
Minutes passed, and finally, there was a knock at the door. The cashier had returned with my box. “Leave it empty and walk straight out after you’re done.”
She closed the door.
Okay, I wasn’t going to freak out. I did feel a little sick. Fuck, this shit was intense.
Putting the key into the lock, I snorted. It was the perfect fit. Here I was thinking I was going to struggle to get the thing open, and nope, it popped right on open as if by magic.
Of course it did.
I twisted the lock and heard the subtle click as it opened.
I lifted the lid and fucking froze.
Not every day you see a syringe inside a box that clearly contained some bad shit.
Another piece of paper and a cell phone.
Before I grabbed anything, at the last minute, I noticed the latex gloves waiting for me. Blowing out a breath, I got the gloves and slid them on, trying not to lose my shit at the thought of what could have happened.
Holy shit balls, this was too fucking much.
With the gloves on, I grabbed the note.
Another location was written down with the instructions telling me what to do. I didn’t like this. It was signed TS at the end. The Society.
I shoved the letter into my back pocket, picked up the cell phone, and then took out the syringe.
This was some serious fucked-up shit.
With the box empty, I took the key, because I had no idea what else I was supposed to fucking do. I left the bank without a single fucking look at anyone. I had an overwhelming feeling of anger.
There was no doubt in my mind what they wanted me to do as I climbed into my car. Turning over the ignition, I pulled out of my spot and headed toward the trailer park. In the letter that I read, there was a small map, which I memorized and followed, coming to the entrance of the park.
There were at least twenty trailers, but the one I was looking for was close to the back, which I spotted.
Outside in the mud sat a young girl. She had striking long, blonde hair. She looked around seven or eight. I wasn’t good with ages, so I could be wrong.
I climbed out of my car, shouting inside my head that I should get back in my car and never look back. The instructions were clear, approach the girl and ask where her stepdaddy was.
So I did that.
She tilted her head back, and my stomach turned. Bruises covered her face, and on closer inspection, I saw they also littered her entire body. It was cold, but she was dressed in shorts and a vest top. Her lips were slightly blue.
“He’s in the back, expecting you,” she said.
I noticed the way her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears.
Stepping around her, I had this need to protect her, but I kept on walking, entering the trailer. The stench of sweat, cigarette smoke, and booze hung in the air.
On entering, I had the syringe in my hand, and I saw the man at what had to be the kitchen table. Empty beer bottles filled the table. A joint hung from his lips, and in his arm was a sign of an addict as another syringe dangled from his skin.
He was high, close to passing out. The man took one look at me and smiled.
The instructions were clear, and seeing as he already had a syringe in his arm, I took the needle out, still wearing the latex gloves as it told me to not take them off until I arrived back home.
Without looking at the man, I put the needle into his vein and hit the plunger, filling his body with whatever shit was in the syringe. I felt sick, disgusted with myself as I watched it leave the syringe and inject into his body, filling him up with whatever crap they wanted to fill him with.
They didn’t tell me to linger.
After the needle was empty, I was to leave it in his arms and get the hell out of there, so I did.
I stepped out of the trailer and walked to the little girl.
The cell phone was in my hand, and I gave it to her. “In thirty minutes, call the stored number. Do you know how to do that?” I asked.
She nodded her head.
I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. That she was safe. That she would be taken care of.
I couldn’t.
Back in my car, I climbed behind the wheel and took off, driving all the way back home. This time, I pressed my foot to the gas and drove. I had no choice. I had to get home. I felt sick to my stomach as I had just killed a man. His death was on my hands.
Had I killed him?
Fuck. I didn’t know, but I had followed the instructions like a fucking pro.
Two hours later, after the long drive, and doing what I did, I didn’t go to Lucas’s house. No, I went to my own.
Parking my car, which now had an empty tank as I’d driven the long drive on fumes, I rushed inside my house, only to come to a stop when I saw my dad sitting on the stairs, like he was waiting for me.
“Hello, son,” he said.
I held my hand up, not sure what to say. I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then shook my head.
“You did the right thing.”
“The right thing? I just…” I shook my head.
“I know what you just did.”
“Was this some kind of test?” I asked. “Did I pass?” My heart raced. I could go down for murder. I should go down for murder.
“With them, it is always a test. They never give us more than we’re capable of.”
“More than we’re capable of.” I stopped, feeling my throat closing up. “Do you know what I did? What I took?” I rubbed at my chest, trying to make sense of everything I’d done and why. I was coming up blank.
I’d killed a man.
“Did you see the little girl?” George asked.
“Yes. She was… She was playing in the mud.”
George nodded. “Six months ago, that little girl was hospitalized, William. Not only had she been badly beaten, she had also been raped. There was no evidence it was the stepdad, but they knew. Without evidence, no one can go on gut feeling or instinct. She’s a gifted child. Intelligent, and one day, she is going to be someone important. That man has been hurting her for the last six months, and The Society waited for the right moment to step in. That man was a piece of shit.”
“That doesn’t make it right. You think I’m supposed to feel better for it?” I asked.
“No, I don’t expect you to feel better. What you need to understand is everything we do is for a reason. Look at the bigger picture.”
“The bigger picture? That girl is going to end up in the care system and we all know how wonderful that is.”
My dad shook his head. “She won’t be going to the care system. Her life is already being taken care of. She will never know another ounce of pain or fear or shame again. You helped to save her, William.”