Psychological Damage (Gray Spear Society) Read online

  When the door opened, her ragged appearance startled him. Her hair was a mess and she had circles under her eyes. She smelled like sour sweat.

  "It doesn't look like you got much sleep," he said.

  "I tried," she said, "but I kept waking up. I was restless."

  "You want to go back to bed?"

  "No, I'll try again tonight. I'm getting hungry. I haven't eaten yet today. Let me just take a quick shower and we can go."

  Aaron, Wesley, and Yvonne went into the motel room.

  While Marina was in the shower, Aaron looked around the room. They had told the motel management not to send a maid. Wet towels were hung over the furniture and the bed sheets were half off. Dirty clothes needed to be picked up and packed away. There just wasn't enough space for four people and a huge pile of luggage.

  It was time to move out anyway. For security reasons they couldn't let Wesley stay in one spot for too long. Maybe the next stop would be a real hotel suite with separate bedrooms. They could afford to splurge on nicer accommodations.

  Aaron noticed something odd about the sheets where Marina had slept. They were sliced up as if she had attacked them with scissors, but it was more likely she had used her fingernails. He leaned down and realized she had also cut into the mattress itself. Damn, he thought. Not just restless.

  Marina came out of the shower wearing a towel.

  "What's the plan?" she said. "How should I dress?"

  "Good question," Aaron said, "are you going to continue your investigation? The next step seems pretty obvious."

  "Oh?"

  "There was only one witness to the murders, and his statement to the police was a tissue of lies."

  "My uncle?" Her eyes grew wide. "We can't! I don't know where he is."

  The vehemence in her reaction surprised Aaron. She is avoiding something, he thought.

  "You don't have any idea how to find him?"

  "No." She swallowed. "He ran off a few months after my parents died."

  "Why did he run off?"

  "I mean we separated," she said quickly. "He's gone."

  He put a hand on her damp shoulder. "I don't understand. You were fifteen, a minor. He was the only family you had left. He abandoned you?"

  She nodded. "Yes. That's exactly what happened."

  Her face was pale. Liquid was dripping from her fingertips, and he realized she was leaking venom. He had never seen her do that before. She's losing control. I have to back off.

  "Then I suppose your investigation is on hold for now," he said in a calming tone. "Let's deal with other business instead. The first thing is packing up and moving out of this motel. We've been here too long. You're hungry, so we'll eat after that. I was also thinking I should spar with Yvonne. Now that her confidence has improved, I want to see if she remembers how to fight like a legionnaire."

  Yvonne shook her head. "I don't want to spar."

  He ignored her.

  "Yes," Marina said, "and maybe I'll test her skills too. It will be like old times."

  Yvonne grimaced.

  * * *

  It was a warm evening in St. Louis. Aaron, Marina, Yvonne, and Wesley were strolling through the back trails in the south-west corner of Forest Park. The gigantic park was the cultural center of St. Louis. It included a zoo, an art museum, a history museum, a science center, and an opera. Aaron liked Forest Park a lot, and he wished Chicago had had a similar place. Chicago had an abundance of large museums and parks, but they were scattered. You had to take a bus or a cab to get from one to another.

  At the moment Aaron wasn't looking for culture though. The team had come here because the park had secluded, grassy fields that were perfect for private sparring matches. Everybody wore sweat suits in anticipation of vigorous exercise, even Wesley.

  They found a clearing that was protected on all sides by tall trees. Aaron heard cars, but they were a comfortable distance away. Instead of grass, the ground was covered by weeds and bushes. The obstacles would make the sparring more interesting. It was too early in the spring for mosquitoes. A perfect evening for fighting, he thought.

  "This is the spot," he said. "Yvonne and I will go first. Take off all your weapons. We don't want to have an accident."

  Everybody had come armed, of course. They never went anywhere without an assortment of guns and knives hidden under their clothes. Even Wesley carried a .22 caliber double barreled derringer, which was small enough to fit under his shirt. It looked like a toy but a well placed shot could still kill. As everybody disarmed, an impressive pile of weapons formed on the ground.

  Aaron moved away from the others, but Yvonne remained in place with her head down.

  "Come on," Aaron said. "I don't want to argue with you. Let's just do this."

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  He walked over, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into the clearing. She resisted with more strength than he expected but not enough to stop him.

  He stepped away from her. "Now, I'm going to attack. You know how to protect yourself."

  Her shoulders were pulled in, and she was rubbing her hands together. She stared at the ground as if ignoring him would make him go away.

  He stepped forward and punched her lightly in the chest. It was the most basic of attacks, easily blocked, but she allowed his fist to strike her. The blow knocked her back a step and forced her to exhale.

  "Yvonne...," he said.

  She shook her head. "I can't. Sorry."

  "Hit me back."

  "No."

  He grabbed her face and forced her to look him in the eye. "Punch me in the gut. That's an order!"

  "I..."

  "Stop whining. Hit me like it matters."

  "Aaron!" Marina said. "She ate a whole guy today. She's pretty strong right now. I wouldn't..."

  "Don't worry," Aaron said. "I got this."

  Yvonne was trembling.

  He stepped back and performed a spinning kick to her head. He made the move as slow as possible so she would have plenty of time to react. She only needed to duck out of the way. Instead she grabbed his ankle with both her hands and blocked him outright. He hopped and spun in the other direction to hit her with his free leg. It was a risky move because he was completely in the air. Holding onto one ankle with one hand, she also grabbed his other ankle and tucked them both under her armpits. She bent backwards like a gymnast. He marveled at her strength and flexibility as he was hurled forwards onto his face.

  A little stunned, he stood up and brushed himself off.

  "Did I do that?" she said.

  "Yeah." He smiled. "Nice move."

  Marina and Wesley clapped politely.

  Yvonne's eyes were wide. "I did do that!"

  Aaron attacked her again, this time more cautiously. Her old combat reflexes slowly reemerged with each exchange of blows. He watched her become a better, more confident fighter before his eyes. He even caught her smiling after a while. Her skills were rusty, of course, but she compensated with supernatural strength. She also demonstrated the kind of creativity in her techniques that could only come from real talent.

  "My turn," Marina said.

  Aaron was glad to take a breather. Yvonne never seemed to get tired.

  Marina faced Yvonne at a distance of five paces. Both women adopted classic fighting poses.

  "Been a long while," Marina said with a grin. "I'm looking forward to this."

  "I can't believe I'm saying it, but so am I."

  "Mind if I go full speed? I owe you some payback for all the times you taught me a hard lesson."

  "Be my guest," Yvonne said. "I'm feeling good tonight."

  Marina launched into a rapid series of kicks and punches. She clearly wasn't holding back. Yvonne's defenses were sloppy and she got knocked around like a piñata. Still, she stayed on her feet. Her resilience and energy seemed boundless. Finally, she used a peculiar double palm strike that sent Marina sailing backwards.

  Marina landed flat on her back. She lay there gasping with bu
lging eyes.

  Aaron ran over to her. "Are you OK?"

  Marina coughed. After inhaling unsteadily, she said, "Yeah. That was the old Yvonne all right."

  He helped her to her feet. She rubbed her ribs where Yvonne had struck her.

  "Sorry," Yvonne said. "I got a little too excited."

  "No, it's my fault," Marina said. "I should protect myself better. I'm done for the day though."

  Wesley hurried over. "Wait, not yet. I want to try one last thing. Can you lie down on your stomach, please?"

  "Why?"

  "It's important."

  Marina gave him a distrustful look but complied with his request.

  "Aaron," Wesley said, "sit on her back and hold her wrists tightly. Keep her still."

  Aaron had no idea what was going on, but he had learned to trust the boy's judgment. Aaron knelt with his knees on either side of Marina's narrow waist, and he grabbed her wrists.

  "Yvonne," Wesley said, "sit on Marina's legs."

  "What the hell?" Marina said.

  He nodded to Yvonne. She came over and sat on Marina's legs.

  "Everybody comfortable?" he said.

  "No," Marina said. "Not at all."

  He sat on the dirt in front of her face. "I have to talk to you. You might get very angry, and I want everybody to be safe."

  Aaron understood now. He adjusted his grip so Marina couldn't stab him with her fingernails, and he allowed more of his weight to settle on her back. Yvonne grabbed Marina's ankles.

  "Hey, guys!" Marina said. "This isn't cool."

  She tried to pull free but Aaron had the advantages of strength, mass, and position. There was nothing she could do.

  "Please relax," Wesley said. "Tell me about your uncle, Dmitry."

  "I'm not talking to you like this!"

  "Then you'll be here for a while."

  "Are you torturing me?" she said.

  He shook his head. "This isn't torture. Describe him, please."

  Marina thrashed harder. Aaron pushed up her arms to discourage her from moving around.

  "Ow!" she said. "Let me go!"

  "Wesley asked you a question," Aaron said.

  She growled. "Dmitry was tall with brown hair. He had a mole on his cheek. Happy?"

  "What about his personality?" Wesley said.

  "He..." She grunted.

  "What?"

  "He was a normal guy."

  He sighed. "That was a lie. What was wrong with him?"

  She bucked like a mule. Aaron was surprised but he stayed on top of her. Yvonne was working hard to keep Marina's legs down.

  Wesley leaned over until his nose almost touched hers. "Look at my eyes."

  "No!" she yelled. "Get out of my head you little fucking punk!" She squeezed her eyes shut.

  "Marina, the only person in your head is you." His soft voice was hypnotic.

  "I'm not sick. I'm fine. I get angry sometimes but so does everybody else."

  "Not like you," Wesley said. "Talk about your uncle."

  "There is nothing to tell!" Marina said.

  He stood up and walked over to a flower. He touched one of the petals.

  "Do you want to know something about me? I can't lie. I've tried, just for fun, but it doesn't work. I'm missing that piece of my brain. I can't even imagine a lie. When I sleep, I don't dream. I just remember things." He faced her. "That's why I don't understand how anybody else can lie. It seems crazy to me. What did your uncle do to you? Why does it hurt so much when you try to remember?"

  She made choking noises. Venom oozed from her fingernails, and Aaron made sure it dripped on the ground instead of his skin. Her muscles were as tight as bowstrings.

  "This is too painful," Wesley said. "I'm sorry. I guess you're not ready yet. Let's try an easier question. Just tell me where it happened instead of what happened. If you do that, I'll let you up."

  There was a long silence.

  "Look at me...," he whispered.

  She opened her eyes and met his gaze. Suddenly, her body contorted as if she were having a seizure. She made a low, long moaning noise.

  "My home in St. Louis," she gasped. "Where I grew up, where I lived with... him."

  "Thank you. Aaron, Yvonne, please let her go now."

  Cautiously, Aaron released Marina's arms. He and Yvonne then got up.

  As soon as she could move freely, Marina leapt directly at Wesley with her fingernails out. Instead of running away, he made a nifty little evasive maneuver and dived between her legs. She was left slashing at air. She turned and charged him again, but this time her face met Yvonne's fist with a thud. Marina went down hard.

  "Stay away from him," Yvonne said coldly.

  Marina rubbed her cheek. "I'll shred you," she growled.

  Yvonne held up her palms and wriggling, white tendrils emerged. "Try it."

  The two women stared at each other for a minute. Marina was shaking.

  Finally, she seemed to calm down. She took a deep breath and said, "Welcome back to the team, Yvonne."

  "Good to be back, Marina." Yvonne winked. "Are you OK?"

  "I've been better."

  "Can I trust you?"

  Marina looked at Wesley. "Yeah. I think I got it under control."

  Aaron exhaled.

  "Then it's time for you to go home," Wesley said, "finally."

  * * *

  "Hold still", Dr. Ishii said.

  Edward had no choice but to comply. Taught ropes held his arms and legs in a spread eagle position. A dental clamp forced his mouth wide open. Two strong men gripped his head, and their thumbs were in his eye sockets.

  Ishii used an eye dropper to place a drop of liquid on Edward's tongue. It was highly concentrated hot sauce, and the smell alone brought tears to Edward's eyes. As it rolled down his tongue and hit the back of his throat, it burned like a ball of molten iron. He coughed violently.

  "Only forty-nine more drops to go," Ishii said, "and no water for at least two hours. We have to give the medicine time to work."

  * * *

  Wesley and his new friends arrived at Marina's childhood home an hour later. It was the bottom half of a two-story duplex in one of the poorer neighborhoods of St. Louis. The walls were made of standard red brick with no ornamentation. Yellow paint was peeling from wooden trim around the windows and doors. Plain tarpaper covered the roof. The front lawn was more weeds than grass, and loose litter took the place of flowers.

  Wesley stayed behind the adults as they approached the front door. He was nervous about what they would find inside. Seventeen years ago this place had almost destroyed Marina.

  He watched her carefully for signs she might become violent again. He didn't understand her at all. Emotions and dark secrets seemed to control all her actions, and she refused to accept obvious facts. Of course that was true of most grownups. Wesley had learned a long time ago to be suspicious of everything adults told him. They even lied to themselves. Most of them were completely insane as far as he could tell.

  Aaron knocked on the front door of the house. Marina stood a few steps away and kept glancing at the ground, a sure sign of fear. Yvonne stood directly behind her. Wesley wasn't the only one worried about Marina.

  An old, black man answered the door. Aaron spoke to him politely, but he was reluctant to let strangers into his house. Marina abruptly jabbed her fingernails into the man's neck. He slumped to the floor.

  "Marina!" Aaron said. "That was cruel."

  "He'll be fine. Come on." She stepped over the body.

  Wesley had witnessed violent acts his entire life. This one didn't bother him at all.

  Everybody followed Marina into the house. Wesley positioned himself behind an adult at all times. He kept a hand on the derringer under his shirt, just as his parents had taught him to do.

  He looked around the room. An old couch was so dirty he couldn't tell the original color. A small television sat on a plastic milk crate. The smell of rotting garbage was inescapable.

  "Gah!" Mari
na said. "What a shit hole. This place was a dump when I lived here, but at least we took out the trash and swept the floors."

  Wesley studied how her eyes moved as she walked around. He watched the small motions of her hips, shoulders, and feet. Even the bend in her neck was informative. A hundred tiny clues, imperceptible to anybody else, assembled to show him the path he needed to take. The bright light of truth shined directly ahead.

  He pointed to a narrow, brown door. "Marina, what's in there?"

  The blood drained from her face. "Nothing," she stammered. "Just a basement, I think."

  He needed to be careful. They were very close to the source of her pain. She could become so violent the only way to stop her would be to kill her. He had seen it before.

  "Marina..." Yvonne said.

  "Yvonne, be quiet," Aaron said sharply. "Let Wesley handle this."

  Of all the people Wesley had met lately, he respected Aaron the most. He almost never lied, and his compassion ran deep. Best of all, he had the rare ability to adapt to new situations quickly, which made him a natural leader. He was guided by honesty instead of pride or vanity.

  Wesley waited for Marina to take the next action. There was no rush. The rapidly changing expressions on her face indicated she was fighting for control.

  She suddenly ran across the room and kicked the brown door open. She hit it so hard her momentum almost carried her down the staircase beyond. She barely stopped herself by grabbing the door frame. Then she backed away in fear.

  "Do you want me to go first?" Aaron said.

  She nodded.

  He went down the stairs.

  Wesley moved to keep Yvonne between himself and Marina.

  "You were right," Aaron called up. "It's a basement, a very dirty one. Not much to see. You can come down if you want."

  Marina stood at the top of the stairs, as rigid as a statue. Wesley could tell she was losing the war against her own anxiety. It was a battle she had to win to survive. He decided to lend her some support.

  He moved a little closer to her and said, "I bet you've fought a lot of enemies."

  "Yes," she replied in a distant voice.

  "How many? Hundreds?"

  "At least."

  "Were any of them really tough to kill?"

  She looked at him with very wide eyes. "Yes."

  "There is an enemy in that basement," he said. "You've been fighting it for seventeen years, and tonight you will defeat it. You won't be alone. Aaron will be with you, and he loves you."