Tainted: Book Three - Enslaved

1. Keep That Spunk, Kid

Kerry Harker

The first day of fourth grade started out great.

I spent breakfast catching up with all my buddies, scored Mr. Herron for homeroom and English, and found out that my best friend and neighbor, Zan, was in all of my classes.

The only dark spot on the day came at lunch recess when Austin teased the new girl. I never could stand to see someone hassling someone else, but I especially hated to see a boy pick on a girl. I did get to straighten him out, though, and that put me back in a good mood.

When the day ended with no homework, I whooped with the rest of my boys and headed to the bus with Zan.

"Want to come over before supper and play the Box?" he asked as we slid into our usual seat.

"Hafta clear it with Mom first, but sure."

Then we bragged how bad we were gonna beat up on each other until the bus reached our stop.

"Bye, Mr. Burns!" we hollered and all but fell down the steps in our hurry to get to the best part of the day.

"See you tomorrow, boys."

Mr. Burns waited until we were in place at the end of our front walks.

"You can't win against me, Zan." I grinned and sank into sprint position. "You never have and you never will."

"You may be taller, but I'm faster."

"Ready?" Mr. Burns called.

"Ready!"

When he tooted the bus horn, me and Zan took off, flying toward our front porches. I didn't dare use my power in public. None of them could see it, but they for sure woulda noticed if I was moving faster than a human possibly could.

"Ha!" I slammed my hand onto my front door.

Seconds later, I heard the same thump from his door.

"Beat you again!" I yelled.

"Aw, I let you win!" Zan stuck his tongue out at me. "Had to because I feel sorry for how bad I'm going to kick your butt on the Box."

"You wish," I sneered. "I'll be right over."

"See you."

Reaching for the door knob, my nine-year-old self was too absorbed in my own world to pick up on any warning signs.

The silence, for example. Mom always had wind chimes tinkling and music playing somewhere, but it was dead quiet.

Same with the stillness. As I hustled through the front door, I found the TV frozen on Tom Holland's face. The vanilla candle on the coffee table didn't gutter like it always did when I opened the door. Hatchet, my dog, didn't race over to me, and I couldn't see or hear him anywhere.

Only when I closed the front door did everything come alive. The TV burst into sound, the candle went out, and Hatchet bawled his head off in the backyard. Dull, fleshy thuds came from the kitchen and screams - high-pitched, broken, neverending screams - went through my brain like an ice pick.

No one but me knows everything that happened after I burst through the kitchen door, and all I want anyone else to know is that an evil man tortured my mom until I agreed to accept a demon into my soul.

I didn't hesitate to say yes.

No, wait. That's not true. I tried to kill him first. He blocked my power, though, as easily as I had outrun Zan. So what else could I do but let the demon in?

I woulda done way worse to save my mom.

Only that didn't work, either. The son of a whore slit her throat right in front me.

It's not at all like they show in movies. Blood squirted everywhere and she choked on it. Later, I would understand that he cut her windpipe, but back then, the sound of her trying to breathe destroyed me.

Beating on the black-eyed man with both of my fists, I screamed all the bad words I knew as she flailed on the linoleum. He grabbed my wrists in one hand and pinned me against the floor until Mom's body went limp and still, and I knew she was gone.

Furious, I called up my power and tried to blast the man again, but still couldn't get through his shield. I started kicking and clawing and biting, but he had me in a good hold and I wasn't doing any damage.

"Demon," he said as he let go of me, "remember our contract. You will make regular reports directly to me, and don't intentionally kill him."

A sound like shattering glass bounced around my skull. Shrieking, I grabbed my head and squeezed it, hoping that would stop the pain. It didn't, and I curled up in a ball, clutching my head.

The man kept talking as he walked away, but the glass-shard voice was still going off in my head and I couldn't make out what he was saying. Right as he opened the door, I managed to raise my hate-filled eyes to glare at his back.

"I'll be seeing you again," I hissed. "One day, I'll hunt you down and end you."

He looked over his shoulder at me and smirked.

"Keep that spunk, kid. You're going to need it."

Then he left me there with Mom's dead body, and the demon in my soul laughed and laughed.

#

That memory had been plaguing me for the last coupla days. Every time I opened my eyes, usually because my bladder was screaming at me, it was right there in the forefront of my mind. If I didn't have Chessie's charm to protect me from nightmares, it would probably be tormenting me while I slept, too.

What is my brain trying to tell me? The only new information I have is the black-eyed man's name.

And as soon as I recovered, finding Samuel Castle was gonna be my top priority. Him and his buddy, Reginald Hubler. They had my girl, or at least knew who did, and I was gonna get her back if I had to peel their skin off an inch at a time until they started talking.

A noise came from outside my door. Not wanting to be bothered, I closed my eyes again and made myself breathe slowly and deeply.

"Good. He's still out." The guy's voice was familiar, but my brain seemed to have used up all its thinking power. "That will give us some time."

"It'll be interesting to see how long it takes him to recover from his first power drain. Maybe even long enough for us to finish this." Another familiar voice.

"I don't think we'll be so lucky, Rome."

Hmm, I think I know someone named Rome. Unfortunately, closing my eyes was a mistake. Sleep was calling me again.

"He'll hold it together for a little while," continued not-Rome, "but the longer this goes on, the harder it will be. Gina and I will be back as soon as we can, but you'll have to be his keeper until then."

"So what do I do?"

"The best you can. Don't let him alone or go off on his own. Keep him calm as much as possible for as long as possible. He has more contacts in the Dark World than anyone I know. Encourage him to use them. At the least, it'll distract him. At best, you might get a few viable leads."

"And if the worst happens? If she dies?"

Brain dead I might be, but I knew who Rome meant and my heart began to piston wildly in my chest. I needed every bit of control I could find to lie still. Thankfully, the heavy weight of exhaustion was pulling me under again. It fogged my mind and numbed my body better than Chance's apathy ever had.

"In that case," not-Rome muttered, "all you can do is save as many as you can."

Just tell him to run. Run and don't look back, was my last thought for a long, long time.