The Deviant Underground (Time Bandit) (10 page)

Susan threw her arms around him and pecked him lightly on the cheek. “How was your flight?”

Jonathan returned Susan’s affection and wrapped his arms around her. “It was fine.” He released her and stretched slightly, a move that betrayed his age. “The departure time was rather early for me, but that’s to be expected whenever one leaves California.”

Charge finished loading the bags into the back of Kathryn’s car. “Ready?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Jonathan said as he reached out to open the passenger side door.

Kathryn took a step back. “Go ahead,” she gestured, indicating that Jonathan should sit up front with Charge, who was driving.

“Oh no, my dear. You sit up front. I’ll sit in the back. Besides, I’m assuming that this vehicle is yours. So I don’t want to displace you.”

Kathryn was so taken aback by this suave mini-speech that all she could do was smile shyly and climb into the front seat. Susan and Jonathan got into the back. Charge started the car, and they left the airport.

As the car flew down the highway headed back into the city, the conversation flowed naturally and easily. They chatted about Jonathan's trip, the weather in California, the St. Louis scenery, and quickly Kathryn felt at ease and comfortable around Jonathan. He was charming and witty, and his quips and jokes indicated a level of intelligence that Kathryn found appealing. Before she realized it, they had pulled up in front of Susan's apartment.

Jonathan reached for the door handle and said, “Thank you all very much for being my personal taxi service.”

“You're welcome,” Charge replied.

Jonathan looked at his watch. “It’s approximately 12:30 here, correct?”

Kathryn looked at the digital clock on the dashboard. “Yes. Why?”

Jonathan half smiled at her. “Shall we meet here around 3:00?”

“Three o'clock is great,” said Charge enthusiastically.

Kathryn looked at Charge's, Jonathan's, and Susan's faces. They all seemed to be in on the same joke, but no one was telling her the punchline. “Why? What's going on at 3:00?”

Susan grinned broadly, and Jonathan reached over and patted Kathryn reassuringly on the shoulder. “Practice, my dear,” he said. “Practice.” Then in one swift movement, he and Susan exited the car. Charge helped him with his bags, and they disappeared inside the building.

Charge got back in the car and pulled out into the street. Kathryn sat silently for a moment. “What did he mean by 'practice?'“

“You know, practice.” Charge's statement did nothing to enlighten her. “Like we've been doing.”

“I know, but . . .” Kathryn felt a bit uneasy but could not place her finger on why. “Where are we going? Aren't we just going to practice at my place?”

“Oh, no.” Charge glanced at her sideways. He smirked. “It's time to up the ante a bit.”

“What does that mean?”

He lifted one eyebrow; his eyes twinkling. “You'll see.”

Kathryn sighed. She realized that she was not going to get any answers from him and resigned herself to wait for a few hours until she could get a straight answer. She looked at Charge's strong hand resting on the steering wheel and began thinking of a couple of ways to stay occupied between now and then. She laughed out loud.

“What?” Charge glanced at her again.

“Nothing. I think I just realized something.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“Susan and Jonathan?” Kathryn raised her eyebrows without finishing the sentence.

“What?” Charge looked at her longer this time. “Oh! Yeah. I mean, sometimes, yeah.”

“So that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

Kathryn pressed the garage door opener as they pulled up to her building. The door slowly creaked and groaned as it lifted high enough to let them pass through. “That explains why she hasn't dated anyone as long as I've known her.”

Charge pulled the car into her parking space. “I guess that does explain it.”

***

Charge and Kathryn made good use of the time they had before going back to Susan's to pick them up. The sex was invigorating and athletic as usual. Kathryn lay naked comfortably sprawled over Charge's body, glowing in her own orgasm, and reluctant to get up to do anything. However, Charge insisted. Before leaving, Charge instructed her to dress in workout clothes. He was also dressed for the gym, as were Susan and Jonathan.

Kathryn's demands to know where they were going were met with friendly evasion. However, Charge turned the car east, and in a few minutes they were crossing the Mississippi. As Kathryn watched the murky water lazily flow by, she found herself becoming increasingly excited. She felt as though she were going on an adventure, and her heart beat with anticipation as Charge drove into Illinois. After a few miles, he turned off the main highway and onto a service road, which was broken from disuse and lack of repair. Large tufts of weeds burst through the cracked concrete, and Charge slowed to maneuver around the jagged potholes. The yellow line was now only a suggestion, and tall prairie grass and wildflowers choked out the shoulder. After a few minutes of creeping along the abandoned road, Charge stopped.

He turned off the engine. “We're here.”

Kathryn looked around and saw nothing. “Here where?”

Instead of answering her question, everyone got out of the car. Kathryn had no choice but to follow. The early May afternoon was warm. The humid air rustled through the neglected grass, already almost knee high. The air smelled industrial and moist, like wet steel, and the afternoon sun beat down on them from a bright blue, cloudless sky. Kathryn put her hands on her hips, sighed, and looked around at the nothingness. The landscape was not completely empty. To the left of the car, about a half a mile away, was a large, abandoned building. It was towards this building that Jonathan and Susan were headed.

“Come on, baby!” Charge crossed the desolate highway. Kathryn ran around the front of the car and caught up to him.

“We’re going there?”

“Yep.” Charge's wide, powerful gait cut through the tangled brush. Kathryn fell in line beside him, the dried grass stinging her calves as she walked. She didn't know what to make of their destination. The building rose ominously out of the field. It had once been red, but time had worn away the brick, turning sections of it dusty grey. All of the windows were broken, and as they approached, Kathryn could see that much of the outside was covered with graffiti—some colorful artwork, others immature scrawls or curse words penned by angry and rebellious youth. The words “Benson Industries” had once been painted in white on the brick near the top of former warehouse. Now, those words had faded, to be replaced by pitted holes, degrading brick, and some ambitious artist's half-completed masterpiece. It was lonely and intimidating, and Jonathan and Susan strode up confidently, stopping a few feet before the door.

Kathryn and Charge quickly caught up to them. “What are we doing here?” Kathryn asked.

“We needed a place where we can be alone,” Jonathan explained. He turned toward the front of the building. “And a place where we don't have to worry about the noise level.” Kathryn looked at the front door. It was made of steel and falling off of its hinges. It was leaning forward perilously, and she didn't think that they were going to be able to get it open. She looked around at the shattered windows, trying to find another point of entry. Unfortunately, all of the windows within reach were framed with shards of glass and jagged pieces of metal—an advertisement for tetanus.

Kathryn turned to Jonathan. “How are we . . .” Before she was able to complete her sentence, Jonathan raised his arm, and the metal door swung open effortlessly. Kathryn stood there with her mouth open. Susan laughed at her reaction, and Charge threw his arm affectionately around her and said, “We told you he was one of us.”

The inside of the abandoned warehouse was even more desolate than the outside. The formerly cheery sunlight forced its way into the high-ceilinged room, bouncing carelessly off the shards of glass protruding from the windows and ricocheting off the scattered pieces on the floor. The air was heavy and grey; particles of dust floated upwards, their journey illuminated by the random, criss-crossing beams of light. Debris was everywhere—some indigenous to the warehouse, some not. Metal pipes, crushed wood boxes, slabs of steel, and scatterings of nails, bolts, and washers were joined by beer bottles, cigarette butts, fast food cups, and even someone's shoe.

“How did you find this place?” Kathryn's voice echoed off the cavernous walls.

“Oh you would be amazed the things you can find using Google Maps.” Jonathan winked.

“Shall we get started?” Susan asked, while pulling a pair of work-out gloves from her pocket. She slipped them on and tightened the velcro at the wrists. Charge flexed his hands open and closed and stretched his neck from side to side. Kathryn stood and watched them, unsure of what was going to happen next.

When Susan bent down, picked up a long pipe, and waved it deliberately in the air, Kathryn stuttered, “Wh-What are you doing?”

“Practice,” Susan answered. She flipped the pipe up in the air, caught it in one smooth move, and swung it hard at Kathryn's head.

Kathryn screamed as Susan froze in mid-swing, the pipe inches from Kathryn's neck. “What the FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” The blood rushed to Kathryn's head, and her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. Jonathan stood silently, his eyes wide with excitement.

“I was right,” he whispered. “She
is
special.”

Charge grinned. “Told ya.”

Jonathan walked up to Susan and stared at her. He paced around, investigating her from every angle before gently touching her arm. When she still didn’t move, he gave her a harder push. She rocked to one side and almost toppled over before Jonathan caught and righted her again.

“Excuse me.” Kathryn paused, pissed that she was being somewhat ignored. The blood was still pounding in her ears. “What the FUCK is wrong with you? Are you trying to KILL ME?”

Kathryn's outburst seemed to snap Jonathan back to the present. “I'm sorry, my dear.” He looked genuinely apologetic. “We didn't mean to scare you, but I have found that native, reactionary impulses are a truer estimate of one's ability than an anticipated, deliberate show. And this . . .” he looked again at Susan with wonder “is an impressive demonstration of ability.”

Kathryn was still seeing red, and her hands clenched up into tight fists. Her “native, reactionary impulse” was to lash out at Jonathan for tricking her, but Charge intervened. “It's okay, baby,” he said soothingly as he reached for her. “He was just testing you.”

Kathryn sidestepped Charge's touch. “Yeah, well, I don't want to be tested. I thought this was going to be like the other practices in my apartment.”

Charge sighed and withdrew his hand. “It is, just a little more intense. Jonathan has different techniques and likes to use the element of surprise.”

“Well, I don't like surprises.” Kathryn’s breathing was slowing, and her head was no longer full of the sound of her own heart.

Jonathan stepped forward. “I am sorry, my dear. My methods are a bit . . .” he searched for the word, “unconventional. We shall proceed from here on out in full disclosure. Agreed?”

Kathryn stared at him for a moment, her anger fading as a result of Jonathan's apology. The earnest look on his face coupled with the excitement on Charge's caused her to surrender. “Okay.”

“Great!” Jonathan beamed. “Now, can you unfreeze Susan for me? But first, perhaps we should all stand back a bit.” All three of them stepped carefully out of the way of Susan's follow through. Kathryn unfroze her, and the pipe continued its arc through the air, coming in contact with no one.

Susan looked confused. “What happened?”

Jonathan smiled. “Precisely what we thought would happen.”

Susan let the pipe fall to her side. “Great! Hey, sorry if I freaked you out,” she said to Kathryn.

Kathryn snorted and shook her head. “You know I'm going to get you for that.”

“Great. Bring it on.”

Jonathan stepped in. “In the interest of full disclosure, this is what we are going to do. Kathryn, you stand over there,” he gestured a few feet away, “and we, for lack of a better term, are going to attack you.”

Kathryn looked at him skeptically. “
Attack
me? With what?”

Jonathan pursed his lips. “With whatever we have available to us,” he said cryptically.

Kathryn scanned their faces. They all looked a little too eager to be playing this game, but she decided to give into it anyway. She had confidence that they would not actually hurt her. She walked to the center of the warehouse and turned to face them. From that angle, they looked like a firing squad, which made Kathryn feel uncomfortable.

“Now Kathryn,” Jonathan’s voice reverberated through the room. “Trust us. And don't be afraid.”

“Okay.” Kathryn's response sounded small and thin. She stood there, nervously wondering what was going to happen next. Suddenly, in Charge's right hand appeared a ball of electricity. It was about the size of a large grapefruit, and it crackled and sizzled with dynamic energy. While Kathryn stood there marveling at its strange beauty, Charge cocked his arm back and threw it at her.