"Aaeiee!" Joe screamed as the knife plunged into him. He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out again as Mayhem pulled the knife back out.
Mayhem checked his watch then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and placed the knife carefully in the center before folding the edges over it. "Don't worry pet," he said looking down at Joe's pain filled face. "I'm not leaving you."
Joe watched Mayhem pick up the tray from the floor then exit the cage and go to the other side of the basement. He put the tray on the desk then picked up a clipboard, a pen, and the metal box Joe had noticed earlier. Putting the clipboard under the arm with the box, Mayhem grasped the chair by the desk and rolled it across the floor and into the cell with Joe.
"Why.." Joe gasped as a wave of pain rocked him. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "Why do you have to know how fast I can heal?"
"Because I want to be like you," Mayhem told him as he began writing something down. "But unlike you, I intend to be able to control my transformation. I will be in full control at all times and in order to do that, I must learn everything I can," he ended.
He really is insane! Joe thought as he listened to him talk about wanting to be a werewolf in a tone that one would use to discuss the weather.
Joe's breathing became more labored and he closed his eyes. He was beginning to feel incredibly tired. Mayhem got up and came closer to Joe. He checked the pulse in Joe's neck then made a notation on the clipboard. Setting the clipboard down on his chair he exited the cell once more and returned with a digital blood pressure monitor. He attached it to Joe's arm then once again checked the pulse in Joe's neck.
"Weaker," Mayhem noted and jotted down the exact numbers from the monitor. He sat back down and watched as Joe's health declined. He made notes on Joe's appearance, being sure to include the fact that his skin had gone from normal to a faded beige beneath his tan and then continued to change to a pale yellow. He wondered fleetingly what color Joe would turn if he reached the point of no return. The healthy tan Joe possessed altered the colors a bit. Jonathan had been pale to begin with and instead of a pale yellow his skin had gone almost alabaster when he had been seriously wounded.
Five minutes passed and Joe continued to bleed. Ten minutes and Mayhem again checked Joe's blood pressure on his arm and the pulse at his neck. Five more minutes and the blood had all but quit flowing. The monitor on Joe's arm registered error and his pulse was almost non-existent.
Mayhem checked his watch then snatched his clipboard and jotted down the time and pulse with one hand while his other lifted the lid on the metal box. He stood above Joe and waited. The change had begun almost at once Joe's first night staying with him. Why hadn't it started immediately this time? Had he waited too long after all?
***
Frank dropped the girls off on his way home. They had wanted to accompany him to Southport but he felt he could get more information if he were alone. Reluctantly, the girls had agreed.
At home, Laura told Frank that Fenton had called and was still at the university but would be home by seven. "Good," Frank replied. He wanted to show his dad the paper Callie had found but there was no way he was going to let his mother see it.
"Did you find anything?" Laura inquired, looking at him hopefully.
"A check to a real estate agency in Southport," Frank informed her. "The memo said it was rent on a local," he added. "I'm going there now to get the address for the local it was talking about."
"After you have had lunch," Laura put in before Frank could turn to leave. "You're going to need some energy to rescue your brother."
"Mom, I don't want to waste anymore time," Frank argued.
"I can have you a sub ready in five minutes," she promised him. "You can eat it on your way."
"Okay," he caved in. He was a little hungry.
An hour and ten minutes later, Frank pulled to a stop in front of a little brick building near the edge of Southport. The sign in the yard advertised Paul Langley as the head agent and beneath his name appeared four more names.
Frank got out of the van and hurried inside. "Good afternoon," Frank was greeted by a man in is late twenties. "Welcome to General Realty," he added getting up from his desk and coming to shake Frank's hand.
"Hello," Frank returned the greeting. "Is Mr. Langley in?" he asked as his hand was relinquished.
"He's out with a client," the man informed Frank, his smile not reaching the calculating brown eyes. "Perhaps I could help you?" he suggested. "My name is Aaron Blevins and I'm sure I can help you find what you are looking for."
"Perhaps," agreed Frank. "But actually all I am looking for is a little information. Boris Mayhem has been paying you rent and I need to find out the address of the property he is renting."
"I'm sorry," Blevins said, straightening up to his full six foot three height and staring down his nose at Frank. "We cannot divulge any information about our clients, if he even is one."
"I understand," said Frank. "But this is very important. He kidnapped my brother and you are the only lead we have at the moment."
"Do you honestly expect me to buy such a cockamamie story?" Blevins demanded huffily. "I think you had better leave."
"It's true," Frank insisted. "He..."
"If it were true then the police would be the ones requesting the information. Not you," pointed out Blevins.
Frank opened his mouth to object but closed it immediately. He could see Blevins' point of view. It did seem a bit farfetched that a teenager would be there asking for information that the police should be requesting. Frank left the building and got back into the van and headed to the local police station. Once there, he was ushered into Chief Pennington's office.
"Frank, it's good to see you again," greeted Southport's chief of police.
"You too," returned Frank smiling at the jovial man in front of him. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."
"Ah," Chief Pennington said, his green eyes dimming a bit. "This has something to do with Joe. The report of his kidnapping was on my desk when I came in this morning."
"I have a lead," said Frank. "But the realtor thought I was a troublemaker and ordered me to leave," he added, then explained about the canceled check.
When Frank had finished speaking Chief Pennington picked up the phone. Forty minutes later the two of them were at General Realty with a warrant. They left ten minutes later with the address.
"I'll have Peterson and Machenelli meet us at Dannings," the chief told Frank naming a store near the house's location. "Follow me."
Frank climbed into the van and followed Pennington to Dannings. It took only ten more minutes until they were on their way. Frank's hands were tense on the steering wheel as he followed the police off the main road. Would Joe be there? Would they be too late?
Mayhem checked his watch then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and placed the knife carefully in the center before folding the edges over it. "Don't worry pet," he said looking down at Joe's pain filled face. "I'm not leaving you."
Joe watched Mayhem pick up the tray from the floor then exit the cage and go to the other side of the basement. He put the tray on the desk then picked up a clipboard, a pen, and the metal box Joe had noticed earlier. Putting the clipboard under the arm with the box, Mayhem grasped the chair by the desk and rolled it across the floor and into the cell with Joe.
"Why.." Joe gasped as a wave of pain rocked him. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "Why do you have to know how fast I can heal?"
"Because I want to be like you," Mayhem told him as he began writing something down. "But unlike you, I intend to be able to control my transformation. I will be in full control at all times and in order to do that, I must learn everything I can," he ended.
He really is insane! Joe thought as he listened to him talk about wanting to be a werewolf in a tone that one would use to discuss the weather.
Joe's breathing became more labored and he closed his eyes. He was beginning to feel incredibly tired. Mayhem got up and came closer to Joe. He checked the pulse in Joe's neck then made a notation on the clipboard. Setting the clipboard down on his chair he exited the cell once more and returned with a digital blood pressure monitor. He attached it to Joe's arm then once again checked the pulse in Joe's neck.
"Weaker," Mayhem noted and jotted down the exact numbers from the monitor. He sat back down and watched as Joe's health declined. He made notes on Joe's appearance, being sure to include the fact that his skin had gone from normal to a faded beige beneath his tan and then continued to change to a pale yellow. He wondered fleetingly what color Joe would turn if he reached the point of no return. The healthy tan Joe possessed altered the colors a bit. Jonathan had been pale to begin with and instead of a pale yellow his skin had gone almost alabaster when he had been seriously wounded.
Five minutes passed and Joe continued to bleed. Ten minutes and Mayhem again checked Joe's blood pressure on his arm and the pulse at his neck. Five more minutes and the blood had all but quit flowing. The monitor on Joe's arm registered error and his pulse was almost non-existent.
Mayhem checked his watch then snatched his clipboard and jotted down the time and pulse with one hand while his other lifted the lid on the metal box. He stood above Joe and waited. The change had begun almost at once Joe's first night staying with him. Why hadn't it started immediately this time? Had he waited too long after all?
***
Frank dropped the girls off on his way home. They had wanted to accompany him to Southport but he felt he could get more information if he were alone. Reluctantly, the girls had agreed.
At home, Laura told Frank that Fenton had called and was still at the university but would be home by seven. "Good," Frank replied. He wanted to show his dad the paper Callie had found but there was no way he was going to let his mother see it.
"Did you find anything?" Laura inquired, looking at him hopefully.
"A check to a real estate agency in Southport," Frank informed her. "The memo said it was rent on a local," he added. "I'm going there now to get the address for the local it was talking about."
"After you have had lunch," Laura put in before Frank could turn to leave. "You're going to need some energy to rescue your brother."
"Mom, I don't want to waste anymore time," Frank argued.
"I can have you a sub ready in five minutes," she promised him. "You can eat it on your way."
"Okay," he caved in. He was a little hungry.
An hour and ten minutes later, Frank pulled to a stop in front of a little brick building near the edge of Southport. The sign in the yard advertised Paul Langley as the head agent and beneath his name appeared four more names.
Frank got out of the van and hurried inside. "Good afternoon," Frank was greeted by a man in is late twenties. "Welcome to General Realty," he added getting up from his desk and coming to shake Frank's hand.
"Hello," Frank returned the greeting. "Is Mr. Langley in?" he asked as his hand was relinquished.
"He's out with a client," the man informed Frank, his smile not reaching the calculating brown eyes. "Perhaps I could help you?" he suggested. "My name is Aaron Blevins and I'm sure I can help you find what you are looking for."
"Perhaps," agreed Frank. "But actually all I am looking for is a little information. Boris Mayhem has been paying you rent and I need to find out the address of the property he is renting."
"I'm sorry," Blevins said, straightening up to his full six foot three height and staring down his nose at Frank. "We cannot divulge any information about our clients, if he even is one."
"I understand," said Frank. "But this is very important. He kidnapped my brother and you are the only lead we have at the moment."
"Do you honestly expect me to buy such a cockamamie story?" Blevins demanded huffily. "I think you had better leave."
"It's true," Frank insisted. "He..."
"If it were true then the police would be the ones requesting the information. Not you," pointed out Blevins.
Frank opened his mouth to object but closed it immediately. He could see Blevins' point of view. It did seem a bit farfetched that a teenager would be there asking for information that the police should be requesting. Frank left the building and got back into the van and headed to the local police station. Once there, he was ushered into Chief Pennington's office.
"Frank, it's good to see you again," greeted Southport's chief of police.
"You too," returned Frank smiling at the jovial man in front of him. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."
"Ah," Chief Pennington said, his green eyes dimming a bit. "This has something to do with Joe. The report of his kidnapping was on my desk when I came in this morning."
"I have a lead," said Frank. "But the realtor thought I was a troublemaker and ordered me to leave," he added, then explained about the canceled check.
When Frank had finished speaking Chief Pennington picked up the phone. Forty minutes later the two of them were at General Realty with a warrant. They left ten minutes later with the address.
"I'll have Peterson and Machenelli meet us at Dannings," the chief told Frank naming a store near the house's location. "Follow me."
Frank climbed into the van and followed Pennington to Dannings. It took only ten more minutes until they were on their way. Frank's hands were tense on the steering wheel as he followed the police off the main road. Would Joe be there? Would they be too late?