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it all.
When Jack was finished, Sam said,  That is fucked up!
Then he screamed. Threw himself off the couch and onto the floor, his right hand
wrapped around his left wrist, his girth covering both of his arms like he was trying to put
out some kind of fire.
Jack went to him, kneeling down beside him as Sam flopped on the cluttered
floor. Jack put his arm across Sam s shoulders.
 It s okay, he said, trying to comfort him.  Just hang on.
 Oh Jesus fuck! he shouted. He was now doubled up, his forehead resting on the
floor, his knees pulled up into his ample stomach.
Jack held him tighter.
Sam suddenly uncoiled himself, pushing against Jack, forcing him onto the couch.
Sam s eyes were full of rage. Jack saw the brand on his arm. This one was bloody,
as though they had gained intensity. Or maybe it was because pain was the object of the
mark and since Sam had undergone efforts to dull the coming pain, the mark had to be a
little fiercer, a little more violent.
 Get the fuck out of here! he roared.
 It s okay, Sam. It s just me, Jack.
 What did you do to her! What did you do to her you sick fuck!
 Nothing! Jack shouted, feeling defensive. Sam had it all wrong. Jack was trying
to help Gina. He would never hurt her.
Sam grabbed the heavy bong from the table. Jack stood up, backing away toward
the door.
 Don t, Jack said.
  You re not getting away. Sam raised the bong over his head.
Before Jack could even attempt to leave the apartment or get out of the way, the
bong was hurling at him, shattering against his shoulder, cutting through his shirt.
 Fuck!
Maybe he should run. Just get the hell away from the suddenly raging Sam as fast
as he could. But he was tired of running. If he just left it at this then he wouldn t have got
what he came here for, which was Sam s help.
 Help me! he shouted.  Help me find her, Sam!
 I m not helping you do anything.
Sam crossed the room toward Jack, dragging comic books beneath his feet. He
clasped his large hands around Jack s shoulders.
 Get away from the fucking door. You re not going anywhere.
He threw Jack into the middle of the room, into the coffee table.
That one hurt. The wood dug into his back.
Sam stood over him, kicking at him. Jack rose up and lunged at Sam s knees. He
put everything into it and managed to force him back and then down onto the floor. It
probably helped that Sam was so stoned. Otherwise, Jack didn t see how he could
possibly take him down.
Sam landed a punch to the side of Jack s head. Everything washed red and black
before he landed his own punch in the middle of Sam s face. He didn t like the way
Sam s nose felt under his knuckles. Popping and spewing forth blood.
Jack stood up. Sam quickly stood up right behind him. He swung his meaty left
arm at Jack. Jack grabbed the wrist and yanked downward, catching Sam off balance.
Again Sam was on the floor.
And Jack was on top of him again. This time he went for the left arm. He held it
extended against the floor.
He clapped his palm down on the brand.
It was hot, nearly burning his hand. He felt the raised pattern beneath his palm. He
made a fist, trying to grab at the brand.
Beneath him, Sam winced. He bucked his hips trying to throw Jack from him. But
Jack was small and wiry, not able to be bucked off so easily.
Jack pulled his hand away from Sam s arm.
And the brand was gone.
He held his own hand out in front of him.
He opened it, looking down into the palm.
The brand was there. Part of Sam s flesh lay in the palm of his hand.
Sam no longer bucked beneath him.
Slowly, Jack got off him, collapsing on the couch.
Sam continued to lie in the middle of the floor, taking long deep breaths. His left
arm sprawled limply beside his head. There was a rectangular absence of skin where the
brand once was. Blood flowed freely from it.
Sam s eyes were closed.
 What the fuck was that? he said.
 I don t know, Jack said.
 Jesus, I wanted to kill you.
  You don t want to kill me anymore?
 No. You re Jack. Why d I want to kill you?
 I don t know. Why did you want to kill me?
 The pain. God, I ve never felt pain like that. Did you get that thing off me?
 Yeah, I did. Jack held it up. Sam opened his eyes and looked at it.
 You were right. I had a picture of you in my head when I felt that.
 What was I doing?
 You were doing things to Gina.
 Like what?
 Cutting her. Fucking her. Cutting and fucking her.
 You know I d never hurt Gina, right, Sam? You know that, don t you?
 Yeah. You re the best guy she s ever had. By far. I know you wouldn t hurt her.
 Then why did you see that... in your head?
 I don t know. It was like, for a minute there, I didn t have any control over my
thoughts at all.
 I want to try and find Gina, Sam. Will you help me?
 Like come with you?
 Yeah. Will you come with me?
 I d do anything for my sister. If you think she s in danger, I ll come with you.
 Seventeen
It was well after three o clock by the time they managed to raise Sam from the
floor. Jack had put the brand/hunk of Sam s skin on a glossy Spider-Man comic spread
out on the coffee table. Once Sam was upright, he said,  I m gonna go to the bathroom
and get cleaned up a little bit.
 Okay, Jack said. Sam was a mess. Blood coated his face from where Jack had
punched him. He figured it was highly likely that he had broken Sam s nose. He was
sorry about it but knew it was all done in self-defense and there were a lot worse things
than a broken nose. Then there was the matter of the missing skin on his forearm. It was
definitely going to turn into a scar. While it was bloody, it didn t seem to go down that
deep. It was kind of like the outer layer of a blister had been pulled off.
With Sam in the bathroom, Jack picked up the brand, holding it delicately in his
fingertips and sitting back on the stinky couch.
What the hell was it?
No longer did he think the mark was on his side. Now he thought the mark was
given to people to make them turn against him. To hinder him in his quest. Jesus, just
thinking like that made him feel like he was going insane. A quest. He didn t have a quest
yesterday. Yesterday was a Saturday and he was just a guy like a million other guys who
dreaded going into work on Monday. Today he would have been content to just sit around [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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