The Marradith Ryder Series: The Art of Shadows, Part 21
Rafael slipped in and out of consciousness. He dreamed about being a child, being back on the farm. The sun had dissapeared behind dark clouds. The smell of rain moved through the air. Fields of wheat swayed. Laying in the barn flat on his stomach, he waited, feeling the warmth moving through the air. He watched the rain fall. His dog lay beside him, nudging the side of his face with his cool muzzle. He ran his fingers through the dog’s fur. The canine settled beside him, warm and content.
Thunder grumbled above, and the rain came down harder, clattering on the roof.
Rafael woke.
There was no thunder. Only the thud of footsteps moving across the ceiling, the sharp edge of muted voices. They spoke in anger.
Voices speaking in Spanish.
Rafael strained to listen, but was unable to hear more than a few words.
More footsteps. A small rush of air, and then a door slamming.
Rafael tensed. Someone was coming down to see him.
The footsteps were too heavy to be those of the female, his torturer. He was used to her light step, the shadow of her small form. Sometimes she tapped a pipe against the wall before she came into view, or pressed the button on the taser that she used, making a sizzling sound. It was a mind game for her. She enjoyed it when he knew what was coming.
His visitor was the young man, which Rafael had not seen in a few days.
Or more specificly, the young Wolf.
The man’s face was in shadow. The room was always dim, but a window near the top of the ceiling offered a bit of milky light. Rafael tried to distinguish his features. The man had curly hair, a straight nose and rounded chin.
When he spoke, he didn’t have a New York accent.
“Morning,” he said simply. “I brought you something to eat.”
“Thanks. I thought you were gone. Maybe you decided to let me starve.”
The man shook his head. “Well, if she had her way, you probably would.”
“Can you untie my hands?” Rafael asked. “I’d like to feed myself.”
The man sighed. After a moment of deliberation, he moved behind Rafael. He adjusted the bonds so he could use his hands, but his arms were still drawn to his sides. He’d been provided this small comfort before, and was grateful that he was able to have it again.
“Thank you,” Rafael said.
His meal consisted of two sandwhiches, one bologna, and the other turkey. Someone had went through the trouble of adding pickles and tomatoes, even some lettuce. It was delicious, after so long being hungry. He couldn’t tell which he found more satisfying, the slabs of meat or the juicy crunch of vegetables.
“She did not feed you when I was gone?” the man asked. Rafael caught the tilt of his words, the soft edge of indignity to it.
“No.”
“That’s been a while.”
“How many days?” Rafael asked.
“Five.”
He’d guessed that it had been nearly that long. But if it had been five days since he’d eaten, how long had he been in captivity?
The man settled into a corner. Rafael went back to eating his food, consuming it as quickly as possible. He was biting the last bit of pickle when the young man spoke again.
“I’ve seen your wife,” the man said.
Rafael felt his insides go cold. “What?”
“Keep your voice down. She’s fine. She’s here in New York. Looking for you. I threw her off track.”
“What does that mean?” Rafael cried.
“It means I did you a solid,” he replied. “You don’t want Fiona here. You don’t want anyone to get hold to your family.”
“What is it you people want from me?”
“You know what they want.”
“Well why not kill me then? Get it over with?”
“Because its about more than just you. We want information,” he paused, looking up at the ceiling. “Look. You want to survive, then you dole out something. Anything that will keep her busy. But you give a little. This name, rank, and serial number bullshit isn’t going to work very much longer.”
“Who are you?” Rafael demanded.
“My name is Alejandro,” he replied. “And I know all about you, Mr. Castillo. You want to get out of here alive, and not in pieces, you’ll take my advice. Understand? ”
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© 2010 Lori Titus
Lori’s novella, Lazarus, is available through The Library of the Living Dead. For more information about the author and her latest projects, see her blog: http://loribeth215.wordpress.com/
Tags: Lori Titus, The Art of Shadows, The Marradith Ryder Series
