Bad Moon Rising Page 9

  That’s when my ankle decided to become a traitor. White-hot pain swelled in my ankle like a silent explosion.

  It took my breath. My mouth opened to yell, but it hurt so much that nothing came out. I lifted my foot higher to cradle the ankle in my hands, like that would help anything.

  That’s when the big guy wiped vomit from his lips and came at me with his fists up and ready.

  I thought fast, and an image from a movie came to mind. I raised my arms high above my head, angling my hands forward from the wrists like snakeheads as I lifted the knee waist high while still balancing on the good leg.

  The big guy advanced on me like a heavy-footed bear, his feet puffing up dust at every step. He drew one fist back to his ear for a punch.

  I timed it right and one-legged hopped into the air as I snapped a powerful kick at his head. My foot caught him coming in and landed under his chin so solidly it clacked his teeth together. They sounded like castanets.

  His head snapped back and almost touched his spine as spittle and small bits of teeth flew from his mouth. The big fellow toppled backward like a slow falling tree while I landed on the same leg I used to kick him. My good foot landed before he hit on his back in a puff of dust. He didn’t need a ten count.

  Hondo already had flexcuffs holding his guy’s wrists together behind his back. My friend looked at me and said, “Mr. Miyagi taught you well.”

  I sat on the ground and held the injured ankle between my hands like a baby bird. My foot twitched sideways with every pulse beat, and I’m telling you, it really, really hurt.

  Hondo looked at it. “Reminds me of that joke, Whenever I roll a joint, it’s always my ankle.”

  “Haha.”

  Hondo said, “Rub some dirt on it.”

  “No, I’ll get blood poisoning.”

  “Come on, the skin’s not broken. It’s barely a sprain.”

  “Huh, my foot almost twisted completely off.”

  “Would’ve killed a lesser man.”

  I said, “You know it.”

  He walked toward the house and patted me on the shoulder as he went by, “I’m going to check inside. Looks like the women are fine with what happened.” He added, “I don’t see Bodhi or Amber with that group.” I glanced at them. The women in the yard definitely didn’t include our quarry.

  My heart sank. The small, brown people sat in silence, maybe a little scared as they watched us, shooting occasional angry glances at the two black men.

  “You speak English?” I said.

  They shook their heads, looking at the ground as if ashamed they couldn’t say yes.

  I rubbed my swelling ankle, which already had a knot the size of a lemon on the outside, so I didn’t pay attention when Hondo came out of the house.

  Two slender, tanned arms, smelling like smoke, went around my neck and she hugged me from behind.

  Amber said in my ear, “Hey, cowboy.”

  I scooted around to face her. Amber’s smile was lopsided. Swollen, bruised lips pushed out the left side of her mouth and cheek. The left eye puffed half shut and the skin there showed a faint undertone of purple over a wide area. She kissed me and winced at the pain, then ran the pink tip of her tongue over the swollen area.

  I said, “You’ve got moose lips.” That got a smile.

  She looked at my swollen ankle and at the dust and dirt on my clothes and said, “Ain’t we a pair.”

  Hondo said, “Are you two gonna be all right while I go for the car?”

  I looked at Amber, “We’re okay.” I nodded my head at the two downed men. “If they try something, I’ll let the ladies practice Brazilian waxes on their crotches.”

  Hondo loped down the road like some human greyhound, and I looked at Amber. She cocked her head to see the other women behind me. They acted shy, but smiled at her and she returned the smile, such as it was.

  I said, “Which one did this to you?” I indicated her face.

  “The one they call The Kiowa.”

  “The one not here.”

  “Yeah. He came to take Bodhi out of the room in the other house and I tried to stop him.” She ran her tongue on the inside of her mouth, feeling where he hit her. “He’s a bad man, Ronny. I mean real bad. Be careful if you run into him.”

  I hoped I’d get the chance. “Do you know where they took Bodhi?”

  “No, everything happened fast. There was some yelling and scuffling in the front room, and I heard other people but couldn’t make out any voices. Then there were some shots. After that, I heard a car leave. A minute after that, they hustled us into the van and took off.”

  “You never saw the other vehicle?”

  “No, they made me sit where I couldn’t see out the windshield, and it was gone by the time we went outside to get in the van.”

  “When Hondo gets back, you can tell us about when they grabbed you and what happened after.” I added, “If you feel up to it. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

  She kept her hand on my forearm, “I imagine I’ll have to tell it several times, but I’ll tell you and Hondo first while things are freshest up here.” She tapped her temple with a finger, “Then we need to find Bodhi.” I nodded.

  We watched the Navigator coming up the road, and the faint sounds of sirens seemed to be growing louder. Hondo parked at the end of the walkway and said as he walked to us, “Derek and the police are on their way. I called them.”

  I motioned for Hondo to sit beside us, and said, “Amber’s going to tell us what happened.”

  He sat on the ground, and Amber told us the story:

  Chapter 6

  Amber curled on the couch in her apartment and heard what sounded like mice nibbling on the door, somewhere near the doorknob. She walked to it and strained to hear.

  The door opened fast, knocking Amber backwards several steps as a big-shouldered Indian and two very large black men rushed her before she could react.

  The Indian stepped close enough to hug her, “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pulled a semiautomatic from under his jacket and put it to Amber’s neck. The muzzle against her skin felt like a small ring of ice, and she flinched at the touch. He said, “You come quiet and I won’t pull the trigger. Put up a fuss and I’ll shoot you. Understand?”

  Amber nodded, “Yes.”

  “Good.” He said to the others, “Let’s get her out of here.” Amber went out with the Indian in front and the other two behind her. They put her roughly into the back of a small van, with the two black men following her into it and staying close to her.

  Amber said, “You’re the ones who took Bodhi.”

  The Indian looked in the rearview mirror at her but didn’t speak.

  She said, “Do you think I know something? Because I don’t. I didn’t even know Bodhi was missing until a week after she was gone.”

  The Indian talked as he drove, “You know it, don’t lie. Bodhi said you two are tight as a couple of sisters. Be smart and tell me what I want to know. You hold out, it’s gonna be some bad days ahead for you. I’ll find out, one way or the other.” He turned onto a cross street and continued talking, “Torturing you if you don’t talk is an option here.”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  The Indian said, “Think about it.”

  “What do you want to know? Tell me that, at least.”

  The Indian glanced at her in the mirror but didn’t speak.

  They rode in silence for the next three hours. Amber caught her own haunted reflection in the rearview. She wished Ronny knew about this, but he didn’t, nobody did.

  The van lurched into several large potholes and wallowed side to side like a ship in a storm as they continued down a rapidly deteriorating road, rumbling and bouncing for another ten minutes before stopping at an old farmhouse. Several older model vehicles dotted the dusty yard’s parking area. When the men opened the van door, the Indian motioned for Amber to exit. She slid off the seat and stood in front of him. Grasping her bicep, he walked her
into the home, where Amber heard what sounded like a Mexican fiesta with the music and Spanish words coming from the living room area.

  Half a dozen Hispanic men drank and danced with Hispanic women while others sat on ratty couches and sofas scattered around the room. One of the men took a woman’s hand in his and started down the hall, but she didn’t want to go.

  One of the black men grabbed her arm and jerked the small woman to him. He leaned down to her ear and whispered something that made the woman nod her head and go with the man. She wiped her eyes as she followed him. Amber watched them pass through another door into a bedroom.

  None of the women looked happy to be there. One of the Hispanic men spotted Amber and walked to her, holding out his hand. She shook her head and he frowned. That’s when another of the women approached him and took his hand, leading him toward the hall. She glanced back at Amber once and gave a slight nod.

  What did I do to wind up here? Amber thought. She looked around the room, seeing two hallways going in opposite directions from the central living room area. The only door to the outside that she could see appeared to be the front.

  The rooms probably had windows, she thought, and the front door did offer a quick way out, except for the man standing near it.

  She saw the Indian come out of a room at the end of the hallway and motion to her. She went to him and he said, “Inside.”

  Amber stepped into the room and immediately saw Bodhi sitting on a cheap bed. Bodhi gasped in surprise and hurried across the small room to hug her. The Indian closed the door, leaving the two women alone.

  Bodhi said, “I never thought I’d see any of my friends again.” Wiping tears from her eyes, she led Amber toward the bed so they could sit together. Amber tugged her in a different direction, toward the curtained window. She peeked between the curtains. Metal bars covered the outside.

  “Crap,” said Amber.

  “Yeah. Come sit down so we can talk.”

  Amber said, “Why are they holding you?”

  “It has to be about money.”

  “How much do they want?”

  “I don’t know. They never told me, and they never asked me, either.”

  Amber thought, “From your mother, then.”

  “I think so.”

  Amber patted Bodhi’s hand to reassure her and said, “We’ll get out of this, don’t worry. Your mother will pay. And two good private eyes are on the case to find you.”

  “Why do they want you?”

  Amber shook her head, “Because you and I are friends. I think they’ll use me to get you to talk.”

  “About what? They haven’t asked me for anything so far.”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Bodhi said, “Who are the private eyes?”

  “Ronny Baca and Hondo Wells. Your mom and dad hired them.”

  The two friends sat that way for several minutes, with Bodhi tearing up several times, but regaining control.

  Amber asked, “Do they ever let you out?”

  “Sometimes. Usually, one hour right before noon, and one hour in the evening around eight or so. Not every day, but four, five times since they took me. Why?”

  “If they let us out together, we might be able to escape.”

  “To where? I don’t even know what town we’re in, or even if we’re still in California.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Once we get away, we can figure out where we are.”

  The door opened and the Indian said, “You’re not escaping. Get that out of your heads. And you,” he pointed a thick forefinger at Amber, “We’ll be talking real soon, and I better get some answers.”

  “I don’t know anything!”

  He said, “Nice eyes you got. Be a shame to pour Drano in them. Get your mind right.” He stared at her for a few seconds, “You might get out of this in one piece if you do.” He closed the door, leaving them alone.

  Amber pulled Bodhi close, “Did you know they could hear us?”

  “No. I haven’t had anyone to talk to before.”

  “We’ll figure out some way, we just have to think.”

  Bodhi nodded, then her eyes brightened. She walked to the lone dresser drawer unit, opened the top drawer and pulled out an ancient plastic clock radio with RCA Victor in aluminum script letters below the small speaker. It only showed AM on the white plastic dial. She plugged it in and worked the dial until there was an oldies station playing without too much static interference. She turned it up, not so much that they would come in and take the radio from the room, but loud enough to cover their voices if they were careful.

  She sat down again and Amber squeezed her arm, “How did you know it was in there?”

  “Every time we move, I look in everything I can. I saw the radio this morning.”

  Amber said, “Now we can make a plan. And keep hoping they find us.”

  “Finding us won’t be easy. They keep moving all the girls and me every two or three days to a different town.”

  Amber said, “Because people are looking for you, Bodhi, that’s why.”

  Bodhi shook her head No, “They do it so the other women can work the labor camps where the aliens live. When the money runs out, we’re moved to the next location. I think they’ve been doing this for a while. It’s like a military campaign the way they set up, and the local men come to the house. And when the men have spent all their money, we’re taken to the next town.”

  “Are the women doing this for the pay?”

  Bodhi shook her head, “I’m sure they’re undocumented and forced to do it. They cry late at night.”

  The two friends leaned against each other, quiet for a while. A scuffling noise came from outside the door and someone yelled in pain. Then the door opened and the two black men came in and drug Amber away as Bodhi hit at them.

  They took her to another room where the Indian waited. The largest black man said, “Where you want her?” The Kiowa pointed and they pushed her into a dusty, ratty armchair. The Kiowa stepped to her and brushed the hair from her face, “So, you and Bodhi are good friends?”

  She hesitated a moment, “Yes.”

  “I want Sylvia Artell’s routing numbers to the checking accounts. Get them from Bodhi. We’ve kept her guessing what we wanted for over a week, and today we want the numbers. Tell her.”

  “I can’t do that.” The unexpected slap rocked Amber’s head to the side and she almost went out of the chair, but the men on each side caught her. Amber blinked her eyes, dazed, and heard roaring sounds in one ear. The side of her face felt on fire.

  The Indian said, “Go talk to her.” He motioned with his hand and the two men took her. She didn’t fight them as they pushed her into Bodhi’s room.

  Amber stumbled to her knees, and Bodhi knelt beside her. Motioning to the bed for them to sit, Amber struggled to her feet, “I’m all right.”

  Bodhi looked at the bright red mark on her face and doubted that was true. She said, “What do they want?”

  “They want you to give them the routing numbers to Sylvia’s checking accounts. The Kiowa, that’s what they call the Indian, said he’s kept you guessing for days, and today he wants the numbers.”

  “I don’t have that.”

  “They know you have money.”

  “I have what mom gives me. She puts three thousand a week into my account, but I don’t have access to hers.”

  “What about your credit cards?”

  “I have three, but they all max out at twelve thousand. I only carry one at a time and leave the others in the apartment safe. They took the one from me when they grabbed me.”

  “What about when you need more than the card covers?”

  “I go to mom and borrow her card. A black Amex card.”

  “Unlimited.”

  “Yes, but I have to take it back after I use it.”

  Amber bit her lower lip and said in a low voice, “Well, damn.”

  “What?”

  “It sounds like I’m in for some bad days. Th
ey told me to get the numbers for them or they’d hurt me. Torture is the word the Kiowa used.”

  Bodhi touched her arm and said, “I won’t let that happen.”

  Amber said, “You can’t stop it. He thinks you know them. They’ll hurt me to make you talk, or until you convince them you’re telling the truth. Either way…”

  The entire group moved every two days, always keeping Bodhi and Amber separate from the other women, who worked the crowds of aliens at every stop.

  Once when they left it unlocked, Amber cracked the door, and watched a tall black woman with platinum hair talking to one of the black men, and she did not look happy. Amber closed the door as the other guard started down the hall.

  Several minutes passed and they heard no loud voices or sounds of violence. Amber eased the door open to peer through the crack. The guard stood six feet down the hall, facing the living room with his back toward Amber.

  She opened it another quarter-inch and saw the Kiowa talking with the tall black woman with silver hair. Not loud enough for Amber to hear, but they didn’t like each other, that was evident. The Kiowa stepped toward her but stopped fast when she whipped out a small pistol from under her loose shirt and pointed it at his face.

  He backed away. The guard with his back to Amber turned to look at the door and Amber closed it fast but quiet. She moved to the bed and sat beside Bodhi. “Things are getting bad.”

  Bodhi picked at the raw cuticle on her left thumb, “I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

  “That may be a while. One of them drew a gun.”

  Bodhi’s eyes widened.

  “They’re arguing with each other. What worries me is if they start shooting, they may decide to kill us, too. Not leave witnesses. We have to be ready if things go to hell.”

  “And do what? We don’t have any weapons.”

  “I’ll think of something.” As she looked around the room, the door opened and the black man said, “We movin’, get yo’ stuff together.”

  Amber wanted to ask about the black woman and the gun, but let it go.

  An hour later the Kiowa and his men hustled everyone into the van with the Mexican women and drove to another small town. They moved three more times in five days, and no chance to escape came.