Sal had a fixed route between his house and the gym.
He spent his days talking with Charlie, texting with Carl, and playing basketball. He'd succeeded in pushing Seth back into a far corner of his mind.
He bumped knuckles with his teammates as he walked into the gym before engaging in total-body exercises. Basketball required a combination of speed, strength, power, stamina, and agility. It was a great alternative to running while maintaining a competitive edge. They spent a lot of time at the gym, working on ball-handling, getting shots up, and chasing rebounds.
It was helpful to have teammates there to encourage him through it. The coach often noticed something he could do better and offered advice. It was a fun way to push and test himself.
Practice ended. Sal lay on his back on the floor for a minute, enjoying the feel of the cold on his heated body. He'd done a good job. The weight had lifted from his shoulders, and he was lighter and more carefree. All of the mundane worries of his life seemed to have been muted.
He couldn’t wait to show Charlie his competence and finesse.
Sal sat up when the cheerleaders entered the gym; it was their time to practice. He removed his old-school, retro basketball shoes, colored red and white and with a star on the side.
A couple of the girls glanced in his direction, and he broke into a boyish grin. The cheerleaders giggled. Their laughter filled the air with gorgeous sounds. He rose to his feet and bowed deeply before slowly walking away—what was the point when somewhere out in the world was a man with his name on him.
There was nothing he could do. He was still hopelessly devoted to that jerk.
Sal’s teammates stayed behind to flirt with the cheerleaders, so he went to the locker room by himself. As he took a quick shower, his encounter with Dante in the locker room ran through his head. It was one of his least desirable memories. Memories of Seth invaded his mind, recalling their dance in the rain.
He banged his head lightly against the locker door when he could hear his phone buzzing.
Now what?
He dressed first and then sat on the bench as he opened his phone.
Number unknown:
I just think that you should know your father is in trouble. The baby-stealing one. Check the hospital parking basement.
Sal threw the phone down into the bag and hammered his fist on the locker. He'd finally found some sort of peace in his routine—of course, there was going to be trouble.
He trotted past his teammates and the cheerleaders who seemed completely preoccupied with each other. Sal cursed loudly once he was outside before he jumped into the bus and drove to the hospital. His muscles tightened, and he felt stronger and more awake. He parked the bus on the sidewalk—there was no time to park properly; this was an emergency.
Fuck you, Mack, Sal thought as he stood in front of the entrance leading to the parking basement—he had a strong suspicion it had been Mack that had sent the text. Who else would know all of this personal stuff about him?
Sal hated the hospital basement. He'd been there once before with his parents when he was a kid. The sounds, the smells, and the shadows, along with the creepy story attached to it only added to his discomfort: before it had been a parking lot, the basement used to serve as storage.
Back in the 1950s, the decomposed body of a man was found in the hospital basement. Its head had been chopped off. A janitor had found the body, naked, on the basement floor basement. The police were called in. They took the body away for an autopsy.
The staff had claimed he was the missing Dr. Omar, who used to roam the hospital basement after he'd gone crazy on the job. He'd already had a reputation among hospital staff for being a little nutty, given his fashionable dress and joking nature.
As the police investigated the bizarre death, they found out that Dr. Omar had explored his occult side. Candles, a Ouija board, and slaughtered animals were found on the premises. Dr. Omar appeared to have committed suicide, but who had cut off his head?
Next to the fancy architecture of the hospital, the basement looked like it had been beamed in from a horror movie. It was shadowy, and the cars offered a wealth of hiding opportunities.
Where the hell was the guard? The security guard's booth was empty. Sal stared at the cameras in the basement. Were those things even on? Parts of the basement had no CCTV camera and security guards were hard to spot. His brain searched for any sign that his father was all right. Sal's pulse pounded in his temples.
He was just going to have to wing it.
The smart thing would have been to call someone: his mother or the police. Only Sal wasn’t smart—he was angry. He had that same feeling in his body as when he'd nailed Ted to the floor: vengeful and with a "get out of jail free” card.
He inspected his knuckles, they'd serve him well, but he decided to take a weapon with him anyway.
Sal grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and moved closer. His father was outnumbered. A gang of four men stepped forward to form a barrier between him and his father with confidence. It was better to be a dog in a big group.
One of the attackers punched his dad in the head and then put him in a chokehold as he struggled to drag him to the ground. Almost simultaneously, another man delivered a swift blow to his dad’s head, at which point he collapsed to the ground, face first.
“Aren't you those little shits from the elementary school?” Sal said cockily as his blood hummed in his veins. The mentally defective dummies had nothing on him—he was too strong, too superior.
“I would be lying if I claimed I took no pleasure in taking you down. That I didn’t come looking for a fight,” Sal said mockingly.
One of the Nazi bastards came toward him wearing a sardonic grin. He looked unimpressed.
Sal didn't know who threw the first punch, but his fist was suddenly slamming into someone’s ugly face. Blood leaked from both of the guy's nostrils and his nose was bent to the right.
One of the other ugly faces came up on him from behind, and Sal struck him with his elbow causing, something on the ugly face to bleed. The blood spatter reached the guy’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. Sal grabbed his ear and yanked hard. It made a nasty sound as the ear pulled halfway off.
A cruel sneer formed on a smooth face standing a few feet away, eyes staring straight at Sal. “Stop it, or the old man gets it.” He pressed a knife to his father’s neck. The man's eyes widened for a second before narrowing again, in anger.
The fourth guy closed in. Sal put the sole of his foot to the attacker's knee which incapacitated his opponent long enough for him to whack him with the fire extinguisher. At the same time, his father jammed a pen into his captor's shoulder. As his father escaped the unloving embrace, Sal threw the fire extinguisher with great vengeance, hitting the guy in the gut and causing him to vomit.
Sal looked at his father’s bloody face. His left eye had swollen over, and bloody spit drooled from his mouth. Sal's father got onto his feet, put his hand on Sal’s right shoulder, and leaned his face closer. “Are you all right?”
He shoved his father's hand away. “Just tell me: are you sorry about Charlie?”
“The guilt's poison in my guts, Sal. I never meant to hurt you, you have to believe me. It's been hard to move past my mistakes, but I own them.”
Sal nodded, and the guards finally came running.
“Dr. Williams," one of them said, "are you all right?”
“Why aren’t the cameras working?” the other guard asked.
Sal looked around to see broken limbs and hurt egos, and what was he going to get? Probably more trouble. If it all went to hell, he'd have to ask Darwin for help.
A smile curled on Sal's lips, and he covered his mouth with his hand. Was it fun watching those bastards suffer? Did he get a buzz of power doing it?
Yes, he did.
“Just so you know: Charlie’s is coming to the game,” Sal said, and he slipped away.
Yet again, he'd walked away unharmed. He stood in the fresh air, intoxicated by his own power. It was the same, intoxicating feeling he'd had when he seduced someone, like the pizza guy. He truly was a Giant.
In case he'd ever wondered, yep, he was also a selfish dick.
He deserved his heartache. He deserved the torture Seth had exposed him to.
On top of everything, he'd been given fucking parking ticket.
Sal began to laugh uncontrollably. He soon got a hold of himself. After all, he still had some mind-hacking to do.
The boy did well; Sal heard something speak inside of him. He's growing with the task of being a Giant. He'll make a perfect addition to the tribe.
Sal sensed Darwin give the sign, and Mack switched the security cameras back on.