The boy shivered. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the men pushed him into a corner.
“You ready, boy?” the first voice said. “You ready?”
Still gagged, the boy couldn’t answer. Ready for what?
He soon found out.
* * *
“Please, Steve. I can’t stand the handcuffs.” I sweated in the back of the police car, my hands bound behind me. I tried to draw in a deep breath, and then again. Couldn’t get enough air.
“Sorry, Tal. Gotta do it by the book. You know that,” Officer Steve Dugan said. “Why’d you beat that kid up, anyway?”
I didn’t answer. I knew better than to talk. Besides, the guy was twenty-five years old, at least. He wasn’t a kid.
A half hour later, we arrived at the Snow Creek Police Department and Courthouse, next to the City Administration Building. Steve got out of the car and opened the door for me.
“Come on, Tal.”
I stayed seated, paralyzed. White noise echoed in my head.
“Commmme…onnnn…Tallll…” Steve’s voice was deep and drawn out, like it was in a time warp.
A meaty hand grabbed my arm.
I jerked it away. “No!” I screamed. “I’m not going!”
“Christ, Talon, what’s wrong with you?”
Snippets of images formed in my mind. Getting back from Grand Junction…alone in the house…doorbell…Steve…under arrest…handcuffs…
I hadn’t resisted until now. Why hadn’t I resisted? It was all a blur. A black evil blur. A blur with a phoenix tattoo…
I stood, got out of the car, and landed a roundhouse kick to Steve’s chest. Steve went down, and I turned and ran. I ran and I ran and I ran…like I should have run all those years ago—
Until I straightened like a board. My body hit the concrete with a thud, my muscles spasming. Had to piss, had to shit. Couldn’t fucking move.
“Help me! For the love of God, help me!”
No one came.
No one ever came.
Dying. I was obviously dying, and no one cared. Minute by minute by minute…
No one…
“All right, come on, Steel.” An arm helped me to my feet. “What were you thinking, kicking a police officer?”
“It’s okay, Sarge.” Steve’s voice. “He’s just having a hard time. I’m not pressing charges. The Taser was punishment enough.”
Taser. I had been tased. I looked down. My pants were dry, thank God. I hadn’t made all over myself. Though my hands were still bound, I could move my fingers. I stepped forward. I could walk. My head hurt, like a hammer pounding my temple.
“You doing okay, Tal?” Steve asked. “Ten seconds from a Taser’s a lot to take.”
Ten seconds? More like an hour. “I don’t belong here,” was all I said.
“Yeah, you do, when you beat up a guy,” a voice, not Steve’s, said.