Free Jack and Mr. Grin by Andersen Prunty Page B

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 the house on his one day off and enjoy the company of his girlfriend. His girlfriend who he was going to make his fiancée.
    Now that had all been blown to hell.
    This was how he was