Promise Me Once

by Paige Weaver

  It wasn’t the only store that had been ransacked. The little coffee shop where I liked to get my morning latte at sat empty, the door hanging open at an odd angle. Tables and chairs were lying on their sides, some of them in pieces. Broken coffee cups were on the floor. The friendly barista who always knew how to make my drink was gone, replaced by a cash register lying on its side.

  My heart started pounding harder. There was destruction everywhere. The storefronts. The cars. The few people walking around. It looked like I was on a movie set. This is not happening. This is not real. The words replayed in my mind until we reached the end of the street and turned the corner.

  Holy shit.

  People were everywhere. They lingered in empty stores. They ran down the sidewalk. They argued in the middle of the street. Hundreds of people walked up and down the main road that led to downtown Austin.

  Some were crying.

  Others were screaming.

  Someone prayed. Another wailed for help.

  It was too much and I wanted to disappear from it all.

  We joined the mob of people. It was our only choice unless we turned back. We tried to stick close together as we walked down the road but there were too many people. Too many crushing bodies.

  The crowd quickly closed around me, surrounding me like a predator and separating me from Tate, Nathan, and Keely. I lost sight of them. They disappeared as if they had only been a figment of my imagination.

  I turned, my braid whipping across my face. I glanced around, searching for them frantically. All I could hear was the rapid beat of my heart and the sounds of shouts and crying around me. All I could see were people, people, people.

  “TATE!” I screamed, swinging around.

  He didn’t answer. People just stared at me, pushing past me, acting like I didn’t exist.

  “TATE!” I screamed again at the top of my lungs, growing panicky. “KEELY! NATHAN!”

  No one answered.

  “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” I whispered, trying to hold back my hysteria.

  I shot past the woman next to me, not caring when she shouted obscenities at me. I tripped over a man that had fallen. A baby cried. A mother yelled.

  It was what the end of the world looked like and I was standing in the middle of it.

  I shoved my way through the crowd, looking for Nathan, Keely, or Tate. I searched until the heat and the press of bodies became too much.

  That’s when I stopped. People pushed past me. Hitting me. Stepping on my feet. Running into my sides. No one cared. It was every man for himself.

  And I was alone.

  Chapter Twenty–Seven

  Cat

  My heart thumped wildly. My pulse beat rapidly. Panic gave way to terror.

  Loud thunder clapped overhead and the wind picked up as I pushed and shoved, refusing to fall down when the crowd surged around me. The sound of shuffling feet on rough concrete had an ominous ring to it. Like we were being led to our death, one step at a time down a long road.

  I was surrounded by hundreds of people, but I had never felt more alone. Chatter filled my ears, bombarding me with what I hoped were only rumors. Cities were gone. The White House had burned. The government was in shambles. I didn’t want to believe any of it. I wanted to cover my ears and close my eyes until I woke up from this nightmare.

  The mob of people heaved and swayed like a sea. I moved with it, trying to see over everyone’s head. I looked for Keely’s bright blonde hair. I searched for Tate and Nathan’s tall figures. I found none of them. Just hundreds of people that all looked the same.

  Tall buildings on either side of the street rose high, like giant fences keeping us in. Smoke drifted from one or two of them. Windows were missing from most and almost all were damaged in some way.

  I moved with the crowd, looking up at the buildings and the dark clouds that floated by. One building held my attention more than the others. It had at least fifty floors and was made of shiny steel. On one of those floors, a small plane balanced precariously.

  It looked like it had crashed through the corner, slicing through the glass and metal like butter. The nose was on one side of the building; the tail was on the other. Pieces of insulation flipped in the wind, touching the plane every few seconds then drifting into the air.

  When a stiff wind suddenly hit, a deep moan emitted from the plane. My heart jumped into my throat. The plane was moving!

  An awful metal screeching nose filled the air as the nose dipped more with another gust of wind. The crowd gasped and started pushing each other, screaming and shouting for everyone to move.

  I shoved people out of my way and ran, glancing back over my shoulder at the plane. Panic made it hard to think or breathe. When I saw a small street jotting out from the main road, I headed toward it. I knew I should’ve stayed with the crowd, go where they were going because that’s probably what Nathan, Keely, and Tate had done, but I didn’t.

  I turned on the street instead.

  A few other people had the same idea. They rushed past me. I knew the street well. It was narrow and more like an alley than anything else, but it curved around and met back up with the main street. And that main street lead to the state capitol. That’s where Nathan would head. I was almost sure of it.

  My braid hit my back as I ran faster. My shoes grabbed at the asphalt. I could hear my breathing, loud in my ears over the sounds of shouts and screams behind me.

  It was darker on the little street, causing a tinge of apprehension to run up my spine. But I knew the alleyway would open up soon. I just had to get there first.

  I felt people catching up to me. I hurried, not wanting to be caught again in a crowd, but in seconds the small group overtook me. I tripped and almost fell when someone pushed past me. My foot hit the curb and I went headfirst. But a strong grip grabbed my upper arm and saved me.

  “Watch it, honey.”

  I lifted my eyes. A man had a strong hold on me. He was short and stocky with dirty blonde hair. His grip was tight, but his smile was friendly.

  “Sorry,” I said, pulling my arm away from him. I started to turn and leave, but the world spun crazily around me, causing me to stumble again.

  “Whoa there. You okay?” the stranger asked, grabbing me again.

  I nodded, feeling stars dance in front of my eyes. “Yeah,” I mumbled. “I just haven’t ate yet.”

  “I’ve got food if you want some.”

  Something about the way he said it made my skin crawl. I lowered my hand and took a safe step back.

  “No. No. I’ll be okay,” I said.

  He smiled again, something that looked out of place in this god-forsaken world.

  “You sure?” he asked. “You look a little pale. I’ll be happy to give you some food. We’ve got to take care of our fellow man in these trying times, you know.”

  I opened my mouth to answer but another man appeared beside him. He was taller and bigger. His head was shaven and his deep-set eyes seemed to lack any emotion or feelings. He wore all black, from his shirt to his combat boots. But it was the sound of his voice that shook me.

  “Leave her alone, Paul. Frankie won’t be happy if we fuck around.” He said it like I was a piece of dirt. Like I was a bug that he wanted to squish.

  “Frankie ain’t here now is he?” the man named Paul said, staring at me with hunger. “But this little bird is.”

  I backed away, realizing suddenly that the crowd on the side street had thinned out. I was left alone with two men that were bigger than me and more deadly looking than most. The time to run was now.

  I turned to take off but a pair of hands grabbed my arms, stopping me. I squealed and kicked, fighting to get them off of me. I might have given men what they wanted before, but I always gave it; it was never taken from me. I wouldn’t allow it to happen now.

  “Hey, now. Hey, now. We’re not going to hurt you,” Paul said in a soothing voice as I continued to fight. He ran a hand over my hair like he was comforting a child, scaring me
even more. “We just want to talk.”

  “I don’t talk to shitbags,” I snarled, trying to jerk my arm from his grip.

  Paul burst out laughing. “She has a mouth on her, don’t she, Hightower?”

  Hightower stared at me with dark, empty eyes.

  “Yeah, a real lady,” he deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the show between Paul and me with boredom.

  Paul’s laughter died down. “You know, Hightower, we don’t got to meet Frankie for another hour. You interested?”

  A chill ran down my spine. I had come across my share of douchebags and men that were a little too grabby, but this was different.

  This was me alone in a world without rules.

  “If either of you touch me, I’ll kill you,” I spit between clenched teeth. “But not before I castrate you first.”

  Paul’s eyes got wide and his face went white but he recovered quickly. His fingers tightened on my arm and he looked over at his friend. “You hear that, Hightower? The girl just threatened us. I know you don’t like people to do that.” He glanced back at me and grinned. “Hightower has anger management issues. Isn’t that what those doctor people told you, Hightower? You got anger issues.”

  Hightower grunted. “Anger combined with violent tendencies, that’s what those white coat freaks said.”

  Paul grinned wider. “That’s fancy talk for he’s got a mean streak a mile long. I’ve seen it and that’s what Frankie likes about him.” He glanced back at his friend again. “Like I was saying – you interested, Hightower? It’s been a while for me and shit, I know it’s been awhile for you.”

  A few raindrops hit my nose but they were the least of my problems. I started struggling when Hightower stepped off the curb and started toward me.

  “This isn’t some kind of free for all! Let me go or I’ll scream and bring every damn person here!” I yelled, kicking out my foot to keep Hightower away.

  Paul avoided my kicks and jerked me toward him.

  “Look around, little bird,” he said in my ear, pulling me hard against his body. “Everybody’s yelling and screaming. Ain’t nobody gonna pay attention to someone else doing it too. Nobody’s gonna help you.” He smoothed a hand down my hair again, sending a shiver through me. “Just stand still so Hightower can check you out.”

  Please God. Please God. I chanted the words to myself over and over as Hightower approached me, afraid of what he would do. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened my mouth to scream, but Paul slapped a hand over my lips.

  I thrashed about but he held me still. I could smell him, the scent of an unwashed male body almost making me gag. His hand over my mouth tasted like dirt and reeked even worse than his body.

  I struggled to get out of Paul’s grip as Hightower walked around me. I felt like an object being studied for dissection, pinned down and ready to be taken apart.

  Hightower was behind me when he reached out and grabbed my braid. I started shaking uncontrollably as he ran his fingers over it.

  “The thing is, I like blondes,” Hightower said from behind me, dropping my braid down my back.

  Paul became aggravated, relaxing his hand over my mouth.

  “Well, shit, just don’t look at her hair!” he whined, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You ain’t gonna fuck that part of her anyway.”

  A sob almost escaped me but I clamped my lips shut.

  “But I like to look at their hair. Gets me off when it comes away in my fingers,” Hightower said, giving my hair one jerk before walking away.

  Paul hurried to run his hand over my hair as if Hightower had hurt me. He spun me around as he did it again and again.

  I watched as Hightower strolled back to his post on the sidewalk, his bulging bod almost bulging out of his clothes. I shuddered to think what he could do to a woman. His hands were massive, probably able to break someone in half. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down the street.

  “Well, damn. Guess I’ll just have to have all the fun. I ain’t that particular,” Paul said.

  I started fighting him as he dragged me to the curb. I kicked him as hard as I could. The toe of my tennis shoes caught him in the balls. I wished I had on my heels. They could do some major damage. But heels were not my life now. Surviving was.

  Paul yelped and grabbed his crotch. I saw my opening and ripped my arm from him. His fingers left marks behind but if I didn’t get away, I would have more than just bruises.

  I didn’t get very far. Hightower reached out and grabbed me. I screamed as he dragged me back to him.

  “Just because I don’t want you don’t mean you get to run off,” he said in a deep voice.

  I stared up at him, blinking against the raindrops that hit my face. He had a tattoo of a gun on his wide neck. The tip of the barrel was inked under his ear and the handle was drawn where his neck met his collarbone. I had no idea what kind of gun it was; all I knew was that if he had one, he would probably use it on me.

  The gun flexed on his neck as he turned his head to look at Paul. “You okay?” he asked his friend that was still cupping his nuts.

  Paul held up one finger, leaning over and putting his hands on his knees. “Give me a second,” he huffed, trying to catch his breath.

  “Take all the time you want, Paul. Just hurry and get your shit over with so we can meet Frankie.”

  Paul shook off the pain and cracked his neck as he stood up.

  “Frankie can wait,” he said, readjusting his balls. “Christ, the little bird has a nasty kick.”

  I fell back a step as Paul started for me, but Hightower held onto me like it was nothing. Strands of my hair stuck to my lips and became plastered against my tear-stained cheeks as I fought to get away.

  Paul grabbed a handful of my shirt, yanking me away from Hightower and toward him. I let out a bloodcurdling scream as he grabbed my bottom and squeezed painfully. Before I could recover, he yanked me back toward a door in the building next to us.

  I didn’t have time to wonder where it would lead. I only knew what would happen if he got me inside.

  I opened my mouth to scream again but heard a shout.

  “Hey!”

  Nathan was running down the middle of the street. He had a knife in his hand and fury in his eyes. Tate and Keely were behind him, slowing down when they saw the men holding me.

  “What do we have here?” Hightower said with interest. He was staring at Keely with sick curiosity.

  “Nathan, get them out of here!” I screamed, trying to pull away from Paul.

  But Paul wasn’t letting me go. Lightning cracked overhead and the raindrops turned into a light downfall as Nathan raced toward us, wielding the knife in his hand.

  No. No. No. These guys would take Nathan down with one punch. I had to do something.

  I turned. Drawing my elbow back and curling my fingers into my palms, I swung at Paul. My fist caught his nose with a solid smack. I felt bones crunch. Pain radiated down my arm but it got me what I wanted.

  Paul let go of me and grabbed his nose, howling. Blood burst from between his fingers. I didn’t wait to see what Hightower would do. I took off running.

  I glanced over my shoulder as I ran. Hightower was after me and Paul was still on the sidewalk bleeding. Hightower was gaining on me. My heart was thumping like a runaway train and I was scared shitless but I ran faster.

  The concrete became slippery with the softly falling rain. As soon as I got near Nathan, he grabbed me and shoved me behind him. I didn’t have time to wonder what he was going to do. He shifted the knife to his other hand and faced Hightower as he charged toward us.

  “Come on, asshole!” Nathan scowled. “I fucking dare you.”

  I started to shoot around Nathan, but Keely grabbed my arm and Tate shoved me behind him.

  “Oh, shit!” I hissed.

  We had company.

  Up ahead a group of men had turned the corner and were walking toward us. An older man led the group. He had pepper gray ha
ir that was cut close to his head. He wore camo pants and a dark green shirt. A group of five or six men walked behind him.

  And they all looked dangerous.

  “Hightower, what the fuck is going on?” the old man roared, walking with authority toward where Paul stood still nursing his nose.

  Hightower stopped and turned around, a safe distance from us. “Frankie.”

  “Get the fuck over here and stop bothering those kids,” the old man roared with annoyance.

  Hightower glanced over his shoulder at us. His gaze traveled over Keely before looking at Nathan.

  “This ain’t over.”

  Nathan’s muscles tensed. “Don’t even fucking look at her or think about her.”

  Hightower turned around to walk backwards and grinned at us. “Oh, I’ll think about her. I’ll think about her really hard.” He looked at Keely one more time before turning on his heel and heading to where Frankie stood, examining Paul’s nose.

  Nathan started backing up, keeping his eyes on them. They were distracted and we were free. Time to leave.

  “Let’s go,” Nathan said, grabbing Keely’s arm. “Don’t leave my side, Keely.”

  She tried to look over her shoulder but Nathan grasped her chin, forcing her eyes on him.

  “I’ll die before I let anyone touch you, Keely.”

  “Don’t say that, Nathan,” Keely said with fear. “No one’s going to die protecting me.”

  Nathan grabbed her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “I will.”

  Tate looked at me and rolled his eyes. Normally I would do the same but Nathan sounded serious. I just hoped it never came to someone dying but I would die for my brothers in a heartbeat.

  We started back down the street but I felt a tingling down my spine. I glanced over my shoulder, blinking against the rain, and that’s when I saw it.

  Paul’s eyes on me.

  He had bright red blood running down his face, mixing with the rainfall and dripping off his pointy chin. His hair was plastered down his face in stringy, wet strands and his clothes were stuck to his body from the downpour.

  Frankie was in his face, yelling something I couldn’t hear. Paul was listening but his eyes were on me.