Chapter thirteen
Thank you for the great ideas!
"Look, Mommy!"
"That's amazing!"
"He's so real-looking!"
"Why isn't he singing, or something?"
Sam lay on the bottom of the tank, trying to ignore the gawkers in the restaurant. The place had opened for business an hour ago, and every patron had come over for a better look. Most of them seemed to think he was some kind of pet, or something. They kept trying to get him to do tricks or make that kissy sound when you try to get a dog to come. It was very demeaning.
Not only that, but the people that actually did believe he was a real merman kept trying to stereotype him. They thought he was supposed to sunbathe on a rock while singing and collecting sea shells or something. Now that, that was just plain prejudiced. And it actually kind of angered him.
Sam had begun to hear Lori talking back to him about two hours ago. Her voice had started coming in bits and pieces.
"Sam…hear me?"
"Lori!" Sam exclaimed. "Lizzie, I hear her! Lori, can you hear me?"
"Sam!" Lori cried. "Sam…hear you…hold on."
"Lizzie, give it a try now!" Sam told her.
"Lori?" asked Lizzie.
"Sam, if…hear me…" said Lori. "We're…into Florence…Lizzie?"
"Lori, I'm hear!" Lizzie called.
"Lizzie!" called Lori. "Barely…you…Hang…there!"
"You hear that, Lizzie?" said Sam. "They're coming. Florence is about an hour and a half from Myrtle Beach. They're headed for us."
Over the last two hours, the connection between them started getting clearer and clearer. Lori asked where Sam and Lizzie were, but all they could tell them was that they were in a restaurant and a bar, respectively. They had not been awake when they were taken inside of the buildings. Nor could they tell them exactly which town they were in. Sam had reluctantly told them that they were not in Atlanta, but in some town west of it.
"Lori?" Sam asked as he heard silence after telling them that. "Lori?"
"You'll have to forgive me," said Lori. "Your brother is shouting obscenities in the driver's seat."
Sam laughed. "Of course he is. You guys need any help looking for us, then—"
"You'll what?" said Lori. "You'll send out an S.O.S.?"
"We might be able to give you some clues," said Sam.
Now, Sam was waiting for the day to end. Only an hour of staring customers, and he was already fed up with the attention. Sam lay on the floor of the tank, staring up at the lid. Several people knocked on the glass before giving up and returning to their tables.
Sam glanced over into the dining room, watching the patrons eating and talking throughout the restaurant. Sam searched desperately for someone with a menu open and finally found one. Unfortunately, the restaurant was so high class that the menu didn't have the restaurant title on it. It was blank on the front. The restaurant didn't have the name displayed anywhere that Sam could see. The front lobby was around the corner up front, so he couldn't see the title displayed there. It was so frustrating, not being able to tell Dean where to find him.
"Hey, Lizzie, do you know the name of the bar?" asked Sam.
"No," said Lizzie. "Nothing is displayed."
A thought suddenly occurred to Sam. "We might be in the same place."
"What?" asked Lizzie.
"We might be in a restaurant that has an adjoining bar in the building," said Sam. "Does it look like a high-class place?"
"Yeah," said Lizzie. "And there's been this annoying man in a suit."
"Is he Asian with a pencil mustache?" asked Sam.
"Yeah…" said Lizzie.
"That's the same guy that owns the restaurant," said Sam. "That's as good a clue as any. Lori."
"Yeah, Sam?" asked Lori.
"It looks like the place where Lizzie is being kept is the same place where I am," Sam told her.
"It is?" asked Lori.
"Yeah, the same guy owns both of them," said Sam. "So, they're either in the same building, or they're close to each other."
"But you still don't know what they're called?" asked Lori.
"No, it's so fancy that there's no name displayed anywhere," said Lizzie. "This sucks."
"Tell me about it," said Lori. "Well, we're passing Aiken, South Carolina. That's about three hours and forty-five minutes from Myrtle Beach. We had to stop for water."
"Right," said Lizzie. "Just get here soon."
"Oh, believe me, Dean's got pedal to the metal," said Lori.
"See you guys soon, hopefully," said Sam.
Sam looked around the restaurant, looking for a way to get out.
There has to be something, Sam thought.
His gaze swept the room, landing on a glass of water at one table. He looked around at the soups, drinks and other liquids at the tables. Sam smiled a little. Maybe if he caused enough problems, they would get rid of him.
Sam swam towards the glass, looking for his chance. A few customers nearby looked up in interest that he was finally moving around. Sam waited until they looked away and targeted a glass of water at a table of four. He stretched his hand towards the glass of the tank, making the water tip the glass over, falling on the guy's lap.
A waiter immediately came over with a linen napkin, giving it to the guy. The owner looked over at the commotion, frowning and shaking his head.
Sam looked over towards a bowl of soup being carried by a waiter. Sam raised his hand and waited until the server was passing a table. He forced the liquid out of the bowl and onto a lady's head. She immediately jumped up, turning to scream at the server, who was completely flabbergasted. Sam felt bad for doing this to these people, but they would get over it. He needed to get out of here.
The owner glanced at the table, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. He glanced over at Sam, but Sam didn't notice.
Sam looked over at a tray full of drinks being carried from the kitchen. He raised a hand, causing the water to flow out of the drinks and onto the waiter's head. He sniggered at the sight as the waiter dropped the tray, breaking the glasses.
The owner glared at Sam as he reached into his pocket for something.
Sam raised both hands, causing every liquid in the place to rise out of their containers and splash up into the ceiling, raining down on everyone.
It's working, Sam thought. There's no way they'll keep me after—
An unbearable pain shot through Sam's body, every muscle twitching in response to the electrical current that was only magnified by the water surrounding him. After about five seconds, the pain stopped, and Sam breathed heavily a few times, floating to the bottom of the tank. He looked up to see the owner standing by the kitchen, holding something up in his hand and waving it at him. Sam looked closer to see that it was a remote of some kind.
A remote taser… Sam realized.
The tank was rigged with tasers that went off whenever the owner hit that button. Whenever Sam did something they didn't like, they would simply press the button to stop him.
Looks like these guys are prepared, Sam thought. They're not gonna give me up that easily…
It was all up to Dean now.
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"Anything else?" asked Dean.
"For the last time, no," said Lori. "I'll let you know if he says anything else."
"I just…" began Dean, clenching his jaw. "How are we gonna find him if we don't even know what town he's in?"
"We'll find him," said Bobby.
"How?" said Dean. "How are we gonna find him? We can't just search every restaurant-slash-bar that we come across west of Atlanta. And who knows how west of Atlanta they really are? They could be an hour away from Atlanta, for all we know—"
"Hey," said Lori, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Their voices get stronger the closer we get. We just gotta search until we find the strongest signal."
"Signal?" said Dean. "What are they, cell phones?"
"Do you wanna be the radar person?" asked Lori. "'Cause right about now, I'd be happy to spread the fun."
Dean glared at her in the rearview mirror. "No, thanks. Keep the scales to yourself."
"Can we just drive without jumping down each other's throats, please?" said Bobby.
Dean and Lori looked at him and back at the road.
"We just need to get there soon," said Bobby.
"Yeah, I know," said Dean.
"No, you don't," said Bobby.
Dean glanced at him, frowning. "What?"
"Sam isn't just there on display," said Bobby. "The bounty hunters would have set up a deal where they could get Sam's scales and blood on a regular basis for potions and antidotes."
Dean's eyes widened. "So, they're gonna torture him?"
Bobby shrugged. "In a manner of speaking…yeah."
"Dammit," said Dean, hitting the gas harder.
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That night, Sam watched as the last of the employees began cleaning up the restaurant. Lizzie had mentioned a few hours ago that patrons had begun filing into the bar and were still in there. Lori had told them that they had arrived in Atlanta about eight hours ago. They had begun a search of restaurants that were oriental within an hour's length of Atlanta, especially ones with an attached bar.
Suddenly, a metal door slammed shut on the restaurant side of the tank, blocking his view. Sam jumped back, bumping into the storage side of the tank. He stared in confusion until he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye.
Sam jumped away from the storage room, pushing away from the glass. Someone was walking towards the tank in the storage room, setting a ladder next to the glass. The person climbed up the ladder and unlocked the lid, throwing it open. Sam surged up to the surface, bringing currents of water with him to attack the guy and get out.
The water gushed with electricity again, and Sam convulsed, falling to the bottom of the tank. This time, the current lasted longer, zapping any resistance out of Sam's body. When the pain finally stopped, Sam was left on the bottom of the tank, barely able to look up at the guy who grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him to the surface.
He wasn't able to fight back as he watched the second guy lower a pair of tweezers towards him. He twitched feebly as he told his body and mind to struggle away from them. He could do nothing as the tweezers went to his neck, grabbing hold of the scales back there. As they began pulling scales off, a faint groan escaped Sam's mouth as he tried to yell in pain.
When they got as many scales as they wanted, they pulled a hypodermic syringe out, lowering it towards the inside of Sam's elbow. Sam tried to move, but still couldn't manage it. The needle was stuck into his arm, and they filled the giant syringe with his blood. His vision began to fade from blood loss as they pulled the needle out and let him go, locking the lid again. Sam fell towards the bottom of the tank as he passed out.