| |
Something wasn’t right with Tessa.
Unable to sleep, Jimmy paced his room, his mind repeating how she’d treated him that afternoon. She didn’t even know me.
He had to admit, he’d found her suspicions a little far-fetched. Then Link came looking for her in his room. He might have been looking for her because she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.
He shook his head, frustrated that he couldn’t see the whole picture. Whether he was dealing with some wicked conspiracy or the delusions of a poor, troubled girl, he couldn’t decide. Yeah, Link had appeared menacing, but with looks that had earned him the nickname “Missing Link,” how could he seem anything but?
Then there was the Bandage Man. Jimmy rubbed his shoulder, still sore from where the mummified patient had grabbed him, his skin bruised in the shape of fingertips. What had he said? Stay away from the girl, or you’ll be next.
Next for what? Despite her strange memory lapse, Tessa had seemed much happier. Maybe her treatment had some side effects, but if it helped her feel better, to manage that place, then he supposed it was all for the greater good. A fleeting pain, spawned by a sudden but powerful flash of selfishness, stung his heart and caused his breath to hitch. He wished she’d remembered their short but meaningful night together.
She’s sick, Jimmy. He sighed. Probably delusional. Heck, maybe it’s all the meds they’re pumping into us. His thoughts seemed logical, but the Bandage Man’s threat, that had been real. And so he circled back to something not being right with Tessa. They had gotten her and had done something to her. And if that mummified douchebag was to be taken seriously, Jimmy had to play it cool or he might be next.
He paused, a moment of clarity breaking through all his doubt like rays of sunlight parting the clouds. It didn’t matter whether Tessa was delusional or not. He had promised to help her. And Jimmy had every intention of keeping that promise. If he could just get to her room, talk to her, and try to get a feel for how much they had tampered with her.
He took a deep breath and approached the door, listening for sounds outside it. Hearing nothing, he opened it and stepped into the hallway. The dim lighting cast shadows where none should have been. The pungent smell of disinfectant, perhaps masking the underlying stink of unwashed bodies, made his nostrils tingle. Yet, he saw no one and heard nothing.
Just a quiet night in the loony bin. He relaxed a little, thinking he would use the excuse that he couldn’t sleep if someone caught him wandering. As he walked down the hall, his feet would now and then stick to the stained carpet and pull away with a slight pop. He wasn’t sure which room was Tessa’s but knew the general direction, hoping he’d guess right when he knocked.
As he made it to the corner, he peeked around it. An arm clamped around his neck, another under his arm. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream out for help as his assailant dragged him backward. Kicking his feet and throwing out elbows, he tried to shake free of his attacker. He hadn’t even heard the person behind him. Jimmy had let his guard down, oblivious to the man’s approach. Am I going to die? He struggled harder. Wheezing, he was losing air fast. His blows lost their strength.
His foe turned, backed them onto the hard wooden floor of the nearest room. There, he tossed Jimmy onto the bed, closed the door, and turned to face him.
The Bandage Man.
“I’ll kill you,” Jimmy snapped, his face filling with the warm gush of rage. Panting, he hopped onto his feet and raised his fists. He’d be damned if he was going to let some sick pedophile have his way with him without fighting to his last breath.
“Easy.” The Bandage Man held out his hands.
“Fuck you.” Jimmy charged at the man, swinging wildly and missing with his first punch. The second connected with the Bandage Man’s ribs, who grunted but swayed with the blow, hooking his arm around Jimmy’s. He tugged on the pinned arm, pulling Jimmy closer, then hooked around his other arm.
Jimmy tried a headbutt, but could only connect with the taller man’s chest. His upper body useless, he did the only move left he could think of—he rammed his knee as hard as he could into his enemy’s balls.
The Bandage Man groaned and collapsed onto his knees. Jimmy seized the opportunity and ran around him to the door. The Bandage Man grabbed Jimmy’s pajama leg, but his grip was weak. Jimmy easily pulled free after landing a right hook to the man’s face. The bandages shifted, revealing a patch of purple skin beneath.
“Wait,” The Bandage Man croaked as Jimmy headed for the door.
The doorknob twisted in Jimmy’s hand. He only needed to open it, and he would be free.
“I’m FBI.”