Chapter 8
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC. No money was made by me on this work.
Amelia Chase was quiet during the trip. She looked across the aisle at the little creep staring at her.
"Good grief," she whispered to herself. "This is the monster Sebastian Ballentine? He looks like - like that little twerp in that movie Innerspace.
"Excuse me?" he asked. "Did you say something?"
"No." She heard that he could read facial expressions, and tried to keep her face as impassive as possible.
"Yes. And it was - about me, wasn't it? Yes, yes, I can see."
"Quiet!" barked the guard. He had a mask on - it looked sort of strange - it was basically a big plastic shield with a smile painted on, and had two holes for the eyes to see out of. Amelia had heard that all of the guards who were in contact with Mr. Ballentine had to wear them in order to avoid his "psychic abilities." Facial recognition, or some such thing, she had heard. Of course, they didn't give her one. She was a pervert and a rapist. What did they care if he creeped her out? She deserved it, or so everyone who had put her on this transport had thought.
"Oh?" Sebastian broke into a smile. "Do you want to gag me? Is that what you would like? To make me unable to talk?"
"You know," interjected Ms. Chase. "It's creeps like you that made me what I am. Maybe," she turned to the guard, "maybe you could let me out of my handcuffs and give me that mask, and leave me alone with him for a few minutes. I hear he doesn't like non-virgins. Well, you know I'm not a virgin, and you know that what he doesn't want wouldn't stop me."
The guard chuckled at that. "Quiet, both of you!" he laughed. He had been in this business long enough, and was un-empathetic enough, that he had absorbed the idea that letting some prisoners rape others was justified punishment for certain crimes. As far as he was concerned, Amelia Chase could be locked in a room with Sebastian Ballentine for as long as she liked, as long as he was chained and she wasn't. He had heard of the man's crimes, and was not averse to seeing him suffer. At the same time, he didn't see Chase as being particularly dangerous. She was a woman, after all. Yes, it was wrong of her to kill her "friend," but who really thought it was that big a deal if she had had sex with a male stripper? She was cute, who wouldn't have wanted to be ravished by her?
These thoughts were going through his head when suddenly there was a huge cracking noise. The transport rocked, and then came back into balance. There was another crack.
"Oh my God!" came a voice from the front of the transport. "That truck! It's trying to change lanes - right into us!" The driver honked the horn. "For God's sake, we're here!" He honked it again. "Damn tired truckers." Then "Oh my God! He's-" another crack. "Oh my God, he's - this isn't an accident! He's trying to run us off the road!" Suddenly the transport flipped, and everything went black for Amelia.
A little later...
"What?" screeched Casey Novak. "What?"
"We are notifying you. She has assigned you as her next of kin, so we are notifying you that Amelia Chase is officially missing. She didn't get into the facility in Buffalo tonight. We're not sure what happened, but the transport disappeared. No one has yet been found."
Meanwhile...
Amelia Chase came to slowly. "Wha... what happened? Owwww..."
She looked around. The guard was next to her, sprawled out and - well, not moving. She managed to reach into his pocket with her left hand and find a key to her cuffs, which she undid. Her right arm was in agony, having been smashed, and the cast was cracked, but that didn't matter now. She was surprised to find that she didn't seem to be broken anywhere else. She felt for the guard's pulse. None. He was dead. She looked over at Mr. Ballentine. He was out cold. The transport was rightside-up, so she undid his and her seat belts and then decided to find out whether or not she could open the door in back. One kick did it, it had apparently been broken when they had been run off the highway. It had felt as if the transport had rolled downhill a little.
She managed to get outside, and then grabbed Sebastian Ballentine and dragged him out of the transport. He was alive, but unconscious. His arms and legs did not appear to be broken, unfortunately, although he had a large bruise on his forehead. Thinking again, Amelia grabbed the mask from the dead guard.
After dragging Sebastian a little farther into the woods, she set up camp. It was summer, so there was no need for a fire, and a few flashlights from the truck served for light.
She had also stolen a watch from the guard. 2:30 am. She clapped the handcuffs on Mr. Ballentine's ankles and then waited for him to wake up.
At around 3 am, he did.
"Hello, Mr. Ballentine," she said to him. "I hear you like virgins, and you like reading facial expressions. Well, I can assure you, I am as far from being a virgin as a human being can be; I know all the tricks that can force you to be able to perform, and I have a mask which hides all of my expressions from you. I figure that they will find me in a few hours. So that means we have a few hours for some fun.
"You - you can't be serious," stammered Ballentine.
Amelia looked at him. "Oh, but I can. What is that I see on your face, Mr. Ballentine? It seems like fear. And hatred. Let's see if I am a psychic, too. What are you thinking - you are thinking that you are going to die. But you are also thinking that we will a little fun first, and I will, Mr. Ballentine, and you are right. We will. Did anyone ever tell you that you look like that actor from Captain Ron?"
"Did anyone ever tell you that you look like the Assistant District Attorney for sex crimes."
"She's my sister. Kicker, isn't it? Too bad you can only imagine what I am feeling now. I assure you that because of this mask you are missing some truly remarkable expressions."
"Come on. Come on. You're not really going to..."
"Well, looky here, your arms have been moved in front of you rather than in back - but the handcuffs are still there. I guess there is one way you can try to stop me."
Sebastian looked at his arms. They were indeed in front of him, but they had been badly beaten so that using them would be difficult. The handcuffs had some fabric from Ballentine's prison uniform's sleeves all tied around them. "What is that?"
"Strangle me."
