Hot Revenge Box Set 2

*****

James

The message from Charlotte’s abductors…

Finchby…

Baxter…

… replays in my head…

Marsh Street under Barnbridge Road overpass 9pm

Bring the money

No police. No other people or she dies

If late she dies. So does the baby

Brandy and rage burn inside me.

The bag containing the ransom money swings heavy in my hand. I'm the decoy and at some level, I know I may not come out of this alive. Klempner's Kevlar vest gives me a little comfort, but it’s the fury inside that warms me against fast falling temperatures.

I should be afraid…

But I’m not.

Jade-Eyes…

My beautiful Jade-Eyes…

Your gift

day I met Charlotte, my Virgin, we have helter-skeltered from one crisis to

her, robbed her of what she deserves. None of it her fault,

I change any of

No. Nothing.

Fearless. Resourceful. Even in the dire situation she’s in, imprisoned in her cell, racked with pain, coughing up green slime,

coming for you,

And me?

I’m the decoy.

night is dark, icy and with the merest hush of a breeze. High cloud makes a haze of the stars but does little to blanket in what passed for the heat of the day. The streets are

a trek of perhaps half a mile to reach the rendezvous point, near enough to get there quickly. Far enough that,

keeping people indoors and, after all, Christmas is coming. Most folks will be with friends, at

sparkling with fairy lights, dressed with spray-on snow and Santa, Please Stop Here signs. In my own home, we never finished the trimming

I pass by.

safety of the residential zone and passing into more uncertain territory. This end of Marsh Street is not

built before the main highways were developed, a remnant of the old town, under the overpass which carries the modern road to Barnbridge. It's a risky

is noted for hoax calls of fire or medical emergency followed by muggings for cash and drugs, and

feeling windy

Better than the alternative.

to

lighting. From the road above, moisture trickles down, streaking stark concrete walls white before settling to iced sculptures

on the overpass, late evening traffic grumbles

“Hello?”

briefly, then

I pace,

Nothing…