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It took me a few months to clear my head enough to actually think straight about that last conversation I heard on the way out of SAMBEL’s clubhouse. I decided to go about it quietly, make it seem like I hadn’t heard a thing. Let me tell you, Maureen didn’t like that one bit but that’s probably because the first time I showed up, I was wearing a hoodie with the hood up, the place was dark and the wee lady had just been put to bed. Having to duck a baseball bat swing and then disarm her was not fun at all. Maybe, probably, should’ve sent a letter beforehand, but then she’d have physical evidence of my being alive.
“Fuckin’ hell, Ashby! Is tha’ how ye go’ me Da? Bludgeoned inta bed w’ a baseball bat?” I snorted, “Go’ a bit o’ a ring ta it, don’ ye ‘hink?” I whisper-yelled at her, “Whit is it w’ people an’ tryin’ ta get rid o’ me?” Having the hood up wasn’t helping the situation any so I tossed my head back and let it fall.
“Nah, your deed! Ev’rybody knows tha’.” Denial was apparently a big thing in those days. “Jesus! John looked ev’rywhere fur you. Does yer Ma know yer alive?”
“Naw, an’ ye won’ be tellin’ ‘er. Ye won’ be tellin’ an’body. Ah’m here fur the wee lady's sake, only. Be teachin’ ‘er self-defence ev’ry chance ah get, an’ aboot oor ol’ Da. Sometime in future, some’hin’s gonna happen ta bring oor brother oot here an’ ye ne’er know whit’ll happen.” I took a seat on the sofa to the right of her armchair. “Ah go’ a tonne o’ shit ta git done before ah go tellin’ anycunt else ah’m alive, jus’ thought ye’d like ta know ye’ve go’ at least one Teller ye kin phone if ye need any help.” I got kinda nervous after that, the thoughts running through my head told me she wouldn’t let me visit, that she’d keep Trinity away from me. “So, here’s th’ ‘hing, ah had three younger siblin’s. Noo, ah’ve only go’ two an’ only ever met one. If ye don’ mind, ah’d like ta meet ‘er.” Thinking of my brothers, the baby brother I’d never met, choked me up, made me stutter. “Ah ne’er... Ah ne’er go’ ta meet Tommy an’ th’ lass may be yer bairn, bu’ she’s me baby sister. Ah don’... Ah cannae walk away f’ tha’.”
Her eyes glazed over as she stared at me, deep in thought. I honestly thought she’d tell me to get lost, that she didn’t need another Teller around. Not knowing what was actually going through her head was making me anxious enough that I started hyperventilating. I slapped a hand over my mouth and pinched my nose shut with the other.
Needless to say, I got what I wanted and more. Meeting that wee lady was the highlight of my life so far at that point. Trinity was a quick study with anything she set her mind to and I watched her grow for two years on and off. I couldn’t be there twenty-four-seven, but I taught the lass well. Then I got word that some creep had tried snatching her off the street when she was out with her mother at the park. That shit didn’t fly with me then and it doesn’t fly with me now. I hunted that bastard for three and a half years, right into September of ninety-nine. Tracked him from Ireland to Scotland, lost him when we got to the States for a while. Done absolutely everything on my own dime and two precious babies lost their lives. A few others lost the ability to have their own children in future. The guilt I felt over that, I turned it into rage and turned into something I thought was a myth, but we’ll get to that later.
Another baby lost her life a month shy of me catching up with him. I won’t go into detail but I will never get that file, those pictures out of my mind. I know what you’re going to say, ‘But you’ve got Hyperthymesia, so it’s not like you can forget.’ And you’d be right, but man, I wish I could. Even now, years later, I close my eyes and that’s the first thing I see. It’s always there and I’ll carry it with me until the day I die. It’s like my brain is reminding me of what happens when we fail, when I fail. I don’t like failure and I don’t like failing.
Anyways, I finally caught up with him on the outskirts of Seattle, Washington. My crew had just purchased a lot of land to build on but we didn’t have anything real and permanent set up at that point. Improvisation went a long way to making it work. They threw me together a small-ish barn-like structure. We’re always very thorough and patient when we need to be. I don’t know about you, but I know that a lot of us have a deeply seeded hatred for paedophiles, so we always start with the basics. This one, though, was personal for me and I dealt with it personally.
My crew, Unkindness, knew to leave me in peace after they’d helped me set it up and had transported him there. They’d set me up a temporary showering area out-with the plastic drapes, on the other side of the barn and they’d brought my favourite music. Alone at last, I turned the music on to just above a conversational volume and stripped down to a plain black vest and a pair of tiny skin tight black shorts with all but one of my tattoos on display. Crouching in front of his chair, I waited for him to stir and when he did, that’s when I knew I was in for a long, fun day.
I stepped back into the shadows and circled him, watching as his confusion turned to fear then panic. I probably should’ve felt sick to my stomach over what I was going to do to him but I just kept seeing pictures of those kids in my head, what they’d suffered before escaping or dying. I made sure to stay in the shadows and off the plastic as I made my way around him.
Plastic crinkling as I stepped up behind him sent him into his fight or flight instincts but flying was off the menu. See, I never target someone I know to be innocent. My Unkindness have the resources to make sure that we never get the wrong guy, or girl.
“Like it?” I asked as I gave him a wide berth until I stood before him. “Gonna be honest w’ ye, pal. Ye don’ know me an’ ah don’ know you, on a personal level at least. Ye remember th’ wee lass ye tried ta snatch abou’ three an’ a half years ago in Ireland?” He started crying, begging and pleading but not once did he apologise, sick fuck! “Love th’ lass! She’s me baby sister, taught ‘er ev’ry’hin’ she knows. Was so proud when she told me she go’ away f’ ye. Absolute genius o’ a lass, she is!” Standing in front of him, I crouched until his eyes met mine. I felt my insides go cold, “Bu’ tha’ wasn’t ‘nough ta stop ye. Ah've seen th’ aftermath o’ ev’ry bairn, f’ Ireland ‘til we reached this point an’ ah plan on dealin’ as much, if not more damage th’n whit they were dealt.” I tilted my head to the left a bit, eyes still focused on him but I could see two shadows moving within the shadows. At a pause in the music, I spoke a little louder. “They bairns, babies, had no fuckin’ clue why ye done whit ye did,” I realised that the tape needed flipped. “You, however, know exactly why yer here. So, ah’m gonna say it now.” I raised my voice a little, again and leaned forward, “It don’ matter how much ye cry or beg or scream, yer no’ leavin’ this barn alive. Ah’m doin’ whit the screws can’t by makin’ sure ye cannae hurt any mare bairns, bu’ yer no’ gittin’ off lightly. Ah’m takin’ a few kilos o’ flesh, simply ‘cause ah cannae stand paedophiles.” The two shadows froze and I felt their eyes on me as my grin turned demonic. Dancing away from my captive, I flipped the tape but turned it down some then danced my way to a lumpy table covered in black cloth.
I removed the cloth and stared at the set-up in wonder and awe. Excitement coursed through me and I reverently ran my hand across the instruments from right-to-left, landing on a pair of pliers. I sashayed over to stand in front of him again. “Someone w’ less experience an’ professionalism wid always go fur th’ obvious, considerin’ yer chosen bed partners. Me? Ah’m a professional an’ ah’m no’ a fuckin’ amateur.” I brought the pliers to his finger tips and started in on the nails. “First victims were me first foster family an’ their two biologicals. Ah was born here in America then me Da’s best pal took me f’ me bed an’ shipped me off ta Scotland. Fosters thought ah’d be an easy target fur a tonne o’ shit, ah was eleven. Pigs couldny prove it was me though. Jus’ an innocent wee lass who slept through th’ whole thin’.” His screams echoed and rattled in my ears the whole day. “Thin’ tha’ really set me off was when th’ oldest tried ta rape me. See, me Da was big on family an’ protectin’ them at any cost. Taught me ta protect meself f’ tha’ kinda ‘hing when ah started walkin’. Noo, ah hunt nonces like you an’ them.” Finished with the nails on his hands and feet, I patted his cheek, put the pliers back and went to rinse my hands.
Drying my hands off, I searched my jacket pockets for my smokes and a light. I heard two people trying to sneak up on me and chuckled to myself, “Ah really wouldn’ do tha’ if ah were you.” I pulled a cigarette from the packet, sparked the lighter and took a casual puff as they got closer. Letting out a deep sigh, I had them both rolling in the dirt within seconds.
“Typical...” I muttered to myself as I took in their kuttes. “Th’ fuck are you two doin’ so far f’ the SAMTAC clubhouse? Look like ye’ve no’ long bin patched in ta.” The bigger of the two recovered first and glared at me while getting up. I snorted at him and basically laughed in his face. I was still laughing when he grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against a pillar. If anything, it made me laugh harder, and then he looked at me as if I were crazy. That all stopped when my eyes locked on his and my breath was stolen. My hand moved of its own accord and ran the tip of a finger under one of his eyes. I was in awe as I stared into his eyes. “Braw,” I whispered to myself. Deep dark brown eyes stared back, making me feel as if he was staring right down into the very depths of my soul. He stepped closer, hand still wrapped around my throat, his thumb caressing my pulse point. He was easily six-feet tall, maybe a little taller to my five-foot-seven, and had some muscle from what I could see of him.
Twin groans snapped us out of our impasse. His head snapped around to the other Son while my eyes went to my captive. The Son took his time getting up while my captive started bawling. Snickering, I forgot the two others as I spoke to myself. “Shoulda stayed away f’ me sister. Who tries ta snatch a six-year-old away f' 'er Ma? Especially when th’ bairns been trained in self-defence, makes no sense.” I watched as his sobs tapered off. “Then again, th’ fucker had his dick in a nine-month-old, who does tha’ shit? ‘Rents musta been devastated when she didn’ make it.” My brow furrowed, “Meh! Normal hammer or sledge hammer? Decisions! Too early fur Michael ta make an appearance, pit the fear o’ God in him.” I sparked another smoke as I tried to contain the thoughts running through my mind. Kicking a foot back, I leaned against the post as I kept watching him. The blood had turned gooey and he tried using that to get out of the restraints. “Hmm, normal hammer. I’ll the sledgey fur ‘is knees. One foot or hand per dead bairn should square him up a wee bit, th’ rest fur th’ ones th’t survived.” I completely missed the post and got my leg when putting my cigarette out. Just about shit myself when my hand was snatched away from my leg and I jolted forward only to be caught and steadied.
Looking away from the child molester, I looked up into blue eyes. Studying him and his dirty blonde hair took my focus away from my thought.
“Holy shit! It’s you,” his eyes widened and his smile was big enough to look like it cut his face in half. “I never got to thank you for saving my ass, as unintentional as it was.”
“Th’ fuck ye talkin’ abou’?” I’d never seen his face before so had no idea what he was talking about.
“Two weeks ago in that bar where the fight broke out. Some guy pulled a knife, next think I know, he’s screaming and cradling his wrist with no knife in sight. Never saw you move until you started twirling the knife while taking a shot.” He had this excited but nervous energy about him that gave me the creeps.
“Mate, ah don’ particularly like knives unless it’s ta do w’ me job. Idiots pullin’ blades in places packed w’ unarmed civilians deserve exactly whit they git.” My attention was grabbed again when a hand wrapped around my thigh and I groaned, “At least ah’m wearin’ shorts this time. Ye know how many pairs o’ troosers ah go through in a week ’cause o' this shit? Ridiculous! It’s a good ‘hing me pain tolerance is sky high.” Looking down, I inspected the burn then shrugged it off and made my way back to the table of instruments. I had a paedophile to torture.
And that’s how I met the future.