10
The castle was dark and deadly silent, and everything seemed to echo. While guilt ate at her gut, she couldn’t stop following Tara’s orders.
Words bubbled out of her, without her permission. “I feel really, very, very good right now.”
“As you should. That was a special drink I gave you. I put some stuff in there to help you help me. Why don’t you clap for me?”
“Great!” Marisa said, clapping her hands. A small part of her still wanted to resist, but that part had no power.
As they reached Marisa’s changing room, Tara said, “Where’s the record’s room, and how do I get into the vault?”
“The records’ room is no fun,” Marisa wailed. “Let’s do something fun.” A part of her she had been denying told her to stop speaking, to stop it now, but her mouth wouldn’t stop and soon the idea faded.
“We need to go there, and you need to tell me how to get there right now. It will be fun.”
“Four halls down. Easy.” She grinned and swayed.
“And how do I get in?”
“A key and a keycard.”
“Our information was correct then. Get me the correct keycard and keys.”
“No!” Marisa screamed, that defiant part of her breaking the surface. “I’m drunk. I can’t be here. You can’t be here. Help!”
Tara clasped her hand over Marisa’s mouth before she could say anything else. “You aren’t drunk, Sweetheart. I gave you a neato new truth serum. I think you need a bit more.” She pulled out a syringe from her bag and poked it into Marisa’s arm. “You’re going to have a lot of fun guiding me to the places I need to go, then you won’t remember a thing.”
Her resistance faded again, and she laughed.
“We don’t have a lot of time, Marisa. Now, get me your radio and the keys.”
Without hesitation, Marisa opened her locker and pulled out the items.
“Do you have a flashlight?” Tara shuffled through the rest of Marisa’s things in her locker and pulled out some plastic cuffs and said, “You love sitting here. You feel safe.”
She nodded. “I love sitting here. I feel safe.” And she did, a warm comfort blanketed her.
Tara rushed out, strapping Marisa’s radio to her. Marisa lay her head down on the bench and started to sing. Tara had been right. She was happy sitting there. Not only did she feel safe, but she also felt very happy.
Tara returned and sat down at Marisa’s desk.
“It needs a window,” Marisa said, moaning as she did.
“No,” Tara chastised her. “It would be bad if there was a window. Then someone might see us.” She chuckled.
Marisa wasn’t sure she cared to even breathe anymore. It was taking a lot of energy to breathe. Something inside her kept telling her lungs to move, in and out, in and out.
“Done,” Tara suddenly announced. “Now, I’ll go return it.”
Marisa gave a shallow nod as she watched her leave.
She came back only minutes later, breathing hard. “I couldn’t reopen the safe, Marisa. Why not?” She towered over Marisa’s curled up form.
“Safe?” Her words slurred and everything looked blurry.
“The records safe.” She shook Marisa.
“Oh, that one?” She was tired and wanted to sleep. Sleep forever.
“Yes. I did exactly the same thing this time as I did the first.” She gripped Marisa by the jacket and shook her.
“Oooh, the second time.” She held up her thumb.
“Marisa. Listen. To. Me. How do I get back into the vault?”
Marisa bent her thumb over and over again, speaking would take too much effort. Too much air.”
“I need your thumb?”
Marisa nodded.
She huffed. “Someone will be alerted that you opened it?”
She nodded again.
She swore and paced the room. “Crap! Crap! Crap!” Then she stopped and cut Marisa loose. “I have to get these back in there.” Tara looked at the clock. “I don’t have much time. You’re smart. You will come up with a good excuse. An inventory will show nothing is missing. Yes, it will be okay.” She spoke out loud, but it was getting harder and harder for Marisa to make sense of anything Tara was saying. She only wanted to drift off, but Marisa made her stand and held onto her arm.
“Wait,” Tara mumbled to herself. “If I don’t take anything out of the safe, they will wonder why it was opened. They might somehow discover the forgery.” She stood still, holding Marisa up for several long seconds. Marisa put her head on Tara’s shoulder. “Hmmm. I guess I’ll have to take a few trinkets to throw them off. Sorry Marisa, but it looks like you’ll be going to jail. Sad that you won’t remember any of this.” She pushed Marisa toward the exit and pulled her hoodie back onto her head and tied it so tight that not much of Marisa’s face showed.
Marisa moaned. She felt awful.
“Come on. Let’s get back into that safe.” Tara put her hoodie and face mask back on.
As they were about step out of the alcove, Marisa whispered, “The captain is coming.”
Tara froze and cocked her head like she was listening for something. Marisa sucked in a breath and giggled. Tara slammed her hand over Marisa’s mouth and whispered in her ear. “You will be silent until I tell you to speak again, and you will not move until I tell you to. Nod if you understand.”
Marisa nodded and smiled, even though she felt like puking. Tara’s hand left her mouth. “I don’t hear anyone.” The footfalls came ever nearer, and Tara’s mouth clamped shut. Had Tara finally heard the perfect steps of her captain? If she were only a few steps to her left, she would be able to see him. How she wanted to see him. She leaned a bit closer to Tara, hoping to get a glimpse of Christian as he passed by. Maybe he would help her. Tara responded by pushing her further inside the alcove. Tara pressed herself hard into the wall behind her. As Christian’s footfalls passed them, Tara peeked out from behind the statue and swore. “What is he doing here?” she whispered. She stared at Marisa and raised an eyebrow, then said, “You may speak now, but only in a whisper.”
“My captain?” she slurred and slumped against the wall.
“Yes. What is he doing here in the middle of the night?”
“Alarm. Bad.”
Tara squeezed Marisa’s wrist. “I did everything you told me to do.”
She shrugged.
Tara huffed. “Does this happen a lot?”
“Never.” She wanted to sink to the floor.
Tara swore and hit her fist into the wall.
Marisa made a sound like a giggle, but it was too breathy.
“Come on, he’s gone. Let’s get this done.” She sighed. “And be stealthy.”
And Marisa was. At least she thought she was. It may have been in an exaggerated way because she hugged the walls and stopped and listened and moved with a funny gait, but they didn’t run into anyone. She worked very hard to get her body to move. She felt weak and silly.
As Marisa walked into the record’s room, she whispered, “King Dominic,” her eyes fluttering wildly. The once physically formidable King of Monterra sat in his wheelchair at a table with a large book open in front of him. Tara stepped into the room and immediately pointed the gun at him and moved quickly toward him, saying, “Hands up, old man.”
The king’s hands lifted swiftly into the air. He did not speak. At the same time, Captain Christian’s calm, but loud voice rang out over Marisa’s radio. “Team two, to the royal family. Protect the royal family.”
“Oh, good. He’s coming,” Marisa whispered as she leaned on the door to the room, her body sagging. Tara glanced at Marisa.
“What are you talking about?” Tara took the final few steps to the king.
“The captain,” she slurred. “He’s coming to protect the king.”
“Sorry, King Dominic, but you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Tara lifted the gun into the air and slammed it down onto the King’s head. He slumped over in his chair.
Something clicked in Marisa’s brain. “No!” she cried, lurching forward, but falling to the ground.
“Be quiet, Marisa!” Tara spat. “Get up. He’ll be fine. You are happy, remember? And you are strong, too. You do what I say.”
She crawled toward Tara, her stomach scraping the floor as she went. She knew she had to get to Tara, but her body didn’t want to do it. It was so heavy.
“How long until he get’s here?” Tara said, exasperation in her voice. “Hurry up.”
When it didn’t seem Marisa would be able to do as she wanted, Tara hurried over to her and dragged her to the vault. After she scanned Marisa’s card and inserted the key into the large walk-in safe, Tara pressed Marisa’s thumb into the little indent next to the keyhole.
The lock inside the door clicked, and Tara opened the door. Marisa wanted to know what she was doing in there, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up and look.
“He’s coming,” Marisa murmured. “Tap. Tap. Tap. Perfect.”
Tara stuffed a few more items into her jacket and after sprinting out of the vault, she shut it. “Is there another way out?”
Marisa nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Lead us to the other exit,” she said, lifting Marisa. “Be quick.”
Marisa pointed to the desk, and Tara helped her get there. She moved her arm, but she couldn’t get it do what it needed to. Tara lifted Marisa’s arm and helped her make the movements. With her index finger, Marisa hit a little notch on the wood finish work near the desk and a door behind them swung open. Marisa leaned on the desk. “Come.” Tara grabbed the king’s wheelchair and pushed him inside. Marisa groaned and did not move. Tara returned and dragged Marisa inside. “How do we close it?” Tara looked out into the record’s room with an anxious expression as she wrung her hands.
Marisa lifted her arm about a half a centimeter, and Tara followed the movement to a button on the wall and pushed it.
The door closed. A headache assaulted Marisa, and she curled into a ball on the floor.
“Where does this lead?”
Marisa groaned. Tara shook her and yelled, “Tell me where this leads.”
Marisa’s head pounded. She screamed out as Tara rolled the king down the passageway.
***
She couldn’t breathe. It seemed that only a small part of her still existed, and it was not good. It was full of pain. Something was crushing her chest.
Something touched her. She couldn’t respond. She could only feel it. Skin touched her face. She wanted to scream, but she was paralyzed. Even the desire to scream began to fade. Happy. She was happy.
Next thing she knew, her body felt weightless, warm, secure. Was someone talking? She was suffocating. Someone needed to help. Then everything stopped. She was aware of nothing.