by Tim Sabados
Kami tipped her chin at the factory. “Too big.”
Aryssa grunted with frustration. “Damn it! Now what are we supposed to do?”
Kylee swiped a strand of hair from her face. “The sooner we get help, the better.” She paused. “We’re simply wasting time standing here.”
“She’s right,” Kami agreed. “We must go.”
Aryssa pinched the bridge of her nose. It made sense. The longer they waited, the better chance that Sammy would get away. “I guess you’re right.”
Kami’s smile cracked the mask of worry that had clung to her face.
“Which way do we go?” Kylee asked.
Aryssa pointed at the decayed road that separated the factory from the office buildings. The very road she and Charlie had followed into this place. “That way will take us out.”
Kylee nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Kami immediately took the lead with Kylee following. Aryssa was about to step forward to join them, but stopped. She couldn’t do it. Just couldn’t. Charlie was somewhere inside that factory. She was almost sure of it. Even though she harbored a small cloud of doubt, it wasn’t enough to keep her going with Kami and Kylee. “You guys go on.”
Kylee spun around “What did you say?”
Aryssa licked the moisture of certainty onto her lips. “I’m staying.”
Relief drained from Kami’s face and was replaced with lines of anxiety.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kylee said. “There’s no telling when we’ll be back.”
“I’ll take that chance,” Aryssa said. “Charlie’s in there. I know it. I don’t know how or why I know, but I do, and I’m not leaving him to fend for himself.”
“What if he’s not?” Kami said. “You would waste time staying here.”
Aryssa tapped her stomach. “My gut. I…I don’t know how else to explain it.”
Kylee sighed and her shoulders stooped. She glanced at the factory, then to Kami before lowering her head just enough to appear she was struggling with some kind of decision. “Are you sure it’s telling you that?”
Aryssa nodded. “Feels way more right than it does wrong.”
Kylee exhaled sharply. Had she reached some kind of verdict? She placed her hand on Kami’s shoulder. “Do you think you can find your way to the police?”
Kami’s eyes widened. “Alone? You want me go alone?”
Kylee hesitated before answering. “Yes. The day is breaking. You’ll be much safer.”
Kami’s head bent forward. “But…but I…”
“Don’t doubt yourself,” Kylee said. “I need you to tell them everything that’s happened. I’m…” she glanced at Aryssa, “…we’re counting on you.”
Kami took a deep breath that expanded her chest and after a few seconds she let it deflate like an accordion. “What happens if they no believe me?”
“They have no reason not to,” Aryssa chimed in. “You saw what happened at the hotel. The police are there sorting through all of it as we speak and that means all the cops in this entire city are waking up to the news at this very moment.”
“She’s right,” Kylee said. “There’s no way that they won’t believe you.” A pause. “You’ve got to do this.”
Kami expelled a long sigh. She eventually lifted her head and slowly nodded. “I will. I’ll get them here.”
“That’s my girl.” Kylee wrapped her arms around Kami.
Aryssa walked over and did the same. “You got this.”
Kami hesitated for the length of a heartbeat before turning and trotting down the road. Once she disappeared around the corner, Kylee turned to Aryssa. “I hope your gut is right about this.”
“I know it is,” Aryssa said confidently. “Follow me.”
“Where to?”
“Around the back by the river,” Aryssa answered. “There’s a way into this place that I think will help us.”
42
Sammy sat in an office he had purposefully built between two of the prison cells in the factory’s basement, his head buried in his hands. He thought about what to do next. Cut his losses and run? Get out of the city? Remain tucked away down here for a few more days? He lifted his head and realized his cohort in the gray suit wasn’t sitting at his desk. In fact he wasn’t in the room at all.
The distant echoes of commotion spilled into the office. Even though Ariek had been better at it, he could clearly hear the rapidly expanding chorus of voices bursting from the prison cells. The yelling and screaming. The demands and pleading. Something was happening outside the office. What in the hell was going on?
Sammy grabbed his gun and stepped out into the commotion. The shock of seeing him, Aryssa’s friend, quickly turned into burning rage. How had he found this place? How had he…?
* * * * *
Charlie planted his foot to stop from stumbling. He leaned back just enough to cause the gray-suited man’s punch to fall short.
The man struck with his other hand, but Charlie managed to block it before it found its mark. He jammed the next one and stopped the one after that. The back-and-forth rhythm was suddenly disrupted when the man’s leg caught Charlie off guard.
Charlie was thrust sideways and slammed into the hardened glass wall, causing it to reverberate from the impact. The obese man on the other side leapt backward. Charlie lifted his arms, but it wasn’t quick enough to stop the punch to his head.
Charlie’s brain rattled. Stars flashed across his vision. Scalp stung with burning pain. Instead of standing, Charlie dropped low as the next punch rocketed over him and smashed into the glass. The gray-suited man grunted. He stepped backward, recoiling from the pain that had to be shooting through his hand.
It was the waver Charlie needed. He mustered his strength, shot upward and with a roaring uppercut caught the gray-suited man on the underside of his chin.
Teeth gnashed. Head snapped. A gush of pain burst out of his throat as he flew through the air and landed hard on his back. His head smacked the concrete floor with a solid thud. A disorientated groan oozed over his lips.
The man reached for the back of his head. He tried desperately to brace his feet on the floor so he could stand, but the soles of his shoes slid haphazardly under the unsteady movement.
Charlie took a quick breath. Then another. And another. It was his chance to finish the fight, yet he couldn’t get his lungs to fill with enough air. Couldn’t get the life-sustaining energy to his limbs. The strength inside him was faltering. He couldn’t find the means to recover from the fight. He looked up at those honey-colored lights. The very ones that seemed to be slowly devouring his vitality. How was that possible?
Charlie heard the screams. The chorus of yells. The despondent pleas from all those prisoners. Those souls who had tried to move on, but were instead being held captive against their will. And for what purpose? The answer immediately revealed itself on the illuminated pedestal in his mind. The coins—they were being held captive for those coins.
Darkness spiraled on the outer edges of his periphery. Was this it? Was this the way things were destined to end for him? Images floated across his vision. The boat. The sound of its well-tuned motors. The way the wind whipped against him while he zipped along the river. And of Aryssa. He sighed happily over her affectionate voice. Her deep beauty. The way she smiled when he was with her. How his tongue had tied itself into knots when he first tried to talk to her. All the things they had been through.
The images spurred a reptilian anger that burned deep inside Charlie. An inextinguishable pilot light to the furnace of his existence burned brighter. Hotter. An animalistic rage crept upward from the depths of Charlie’s being and swirled into his limbs.
Charlie shook away the circling darkness and pounced on the gray-suited man. He raised his arm and buried his fist into the man’s face. Raised it again and struck. And again. And again.
Blood splattered. The man moaned in agony, tried to lift his teetering extremities only to pass out altogether. Charlie l
abored to raise his own arm, but exhaustion pulled his fist to the floor. His chest heaved. Head stooped. Charlie struggled to roll himself off the man. He plopped on the ground and gulped for air.
The prisoners roared with delight.
“He got what was coming to him!”
“Way to go!”
“Get me out of here!”
“Hurry up, before someone else comes!”
Charlie needed a minute. Maybe more. He was too weak to stand. Simply too exhausted to move. He fought against gravity just to stop himself from falling over.
“Look out!” Someone yelled.
There was a movement in his periphery. Someone was briskly walking toward him. Charlie strained to turn his head. Was it really him? Was it…yes, it was. It was Sammy.
Sammy moved with purpose. Anger pounded off his soles with each step. He was gripping a metal object and with a swift movement of Sammy’s hand, came that undistinguishable clack of a loaded gun. He pointed it directly at Charlie. “I’ve had enough of you and Aryssa!”
* * * * *
Aryssa motioned with her arm for Kylee to hurry. She pointed down the darkened steps and whispered. “You see that?”
Kylee slowly nodded in agreement. “Is it really…?”
Yellow light weakly spilled across a small section of the wall and floor at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Yeah, it is,” Aryssa answered.
“What do you think it’s to?”
“We’ll never know unless we check it out,” Aryssa said.
“We’ve come this far.”
Aryssa kept her hand cupped on the railing and hugged the wall with her shoulder as she descended the steps. Kylee was close, so close that she could feel her breath stroking her neck.
She reached the bottom and cautiously covered the distance that led to a metal door. A warm light drifted through the partial opening.
Aryssa’s heart thumped wildly. What was on the other side? Was Charlie somewhere behind it? She leaned close to the opening and listened.
Seconds morphed into minutes. “Did you hear that?” Aryssa whispered.
Kylee moved closer. Eventually shook her head. “I don’t hear anything.”
Aryssa rubbed her ears. Listened again, but was greeted only by silence. She sighed. “Maybe it was my imagination.”
Kylee gestured toward the opening. “Take a peek.”
Aryssa maneuvered to look around the edge of the door. That warm light filled a barren hallway that stretched deep into the distance. Except that it wasn’t totally empty. There was someone sitting on the ground hundreds of feet away. Could it be?
She gasped. “I think it’s Charlie.”
“You see him?”
Why was he on the floor? Panic swept through Aryssa. She instantly slipped into the large corridor. “He needs help.”
Kylee grabbed Aryssa’s arm. “Hold on,” She whispered urgently. “It might not be safe.”
Aryssa stopped when she heard Kylee’s warning. She looked again at Charlie, but this time she saw someone approaching him. Was that Sammy? What was he pointing at Charlie? “I think he’s got a gun.”
Kylee stepped to Aryssa’s side. “Who’s got a…?”
“Sammy.” Aryssa pointed at the men. “He’s going to kill Charlie. We’ve got to…”
Kylee must’ve heard the desperation in Aryssa’s voice. Must’ve seen what was about to go down. “Move.” She pulled Aryssa’s shoulder and jumped in front of her. “Stay close and be as quiet as you can.”
43
Sammy tightened his grip on the pistol and started off with a determined stride. His gait morphed into a scamper, then a run. His focus narrowed along the barrel, through the site and right onto the very person who ignited his anger. He still had several yards to go before he could get an accurate shot.
He needed all of this to be over. Needed a break from everything that had gone down. Needed to regain some semblance of control. And it all came crashing on that one man. The person who had been consistently bringing him so much grief. The one person along with Aryssa, he needed dead.
“I’ve had enough of you and Aryssa!” Sammy screamed as he squeezed the trigger.
Bang!
* * * * *
Charlie’s reserve of adrenaline was bone dry. His limbs felt as if they were filled with concrete. He tried to get his legs underneath him so he could stand and defend himself, but they struggled to move. All his strength had been devoured by his fight with the man in the gray suit. And more particularly, those damn lights. What felt like the weight of an automobile was somehow parked on his chest, making him struggle to keep himself upright.
He was defenseless. Stuck out in the open with nowhere to hide. Summoning any last bits of might left in him, Charlie desperately jerked his shoulders to his right, then threw himself to his left. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.
Bang!
A bullet struck the concrete floor only a few feet from him. Bits of concrete splattered through the air. The sharp blast bounced off the walls and drilled into Charlie’s ears.
Charlie landed on his left shoulder, tucked his arms into his chest and rolled onto his back. The momentum jolted him upright. All he had to do was leap onto his feet in order to have a fighting chance. His sudden burst of movement was deceiving. Charlie barely made it onto his knees when he noticed the gun was aimed right…
Bang!
Searing pain burrowed through the muscle and bone in Charlie’s chest. The force of the bullet thrust him backward and knocked the air out of his lungs.
“Charlie!” a woman yelled.
Sammy lifted his gaze toward the screaming voice, his face scrunched with rage. He turned his attention back to Charlie.
Bang!
The burn tunneled into Charlie’s shoulder while blood splattered out the hole.
Bang!
A gun went off somewhere behind Charlie. Sammy’s face suddenly elongated with shock. An explosion of blood leapt out from the middle of his chest. His arms flailed outward as he stumbled to regain his balance.
Bang!
Sammy’s body recoiled from the piercing intrusion. His feet lost contact with the ground. He flew through the air and landed on his back. Legs and arms trailed in front of him, and he fell in a lifeless heap across the concrete.
“Charlie!” the woman screamed again.
Who was calling him? It sounded like Aryssa, but how was that possible? Charlie tried to turn around to look upon her face, but his body buckled, causing him to collapse to the floor. He attempted to suck in a breath, desperately tried to look behind him, except his strength had disintegrated. Tried again. Nothing happened.
The glass-walled cells, the screaming prisoners, those overly warm lights had somehow tunneled from his sight. It wasn’t long before he was surrounded in the shroud of darkness and soon the black cloak of death completely covered him.
* * * * *
“Aryssa…wait…!” Kylee yelled.
Aryssa heard the warning but kept running, even as the sound of Kylee’s gun went off and the bullets whizzed by her head. She kept running as Sammy flailed and fell to the floor. She ran by small empty rooms enclosed in what appeared to be glass. Briefly noticed the chairs. The beds. The emptiness. Her screaming thoughts over Charlie’s well-being ricocheted off the bones of her skull and despite all the noise inside her head, everything around her—her footsteps, Kylee’s voice, the echo of gunshots—was muffled into silence. And even though there wasn’t another soul around except for Charlie, Sammy, Kylee and herself, that very silence only became magnified the closer she got to him.
Aryssa ran up to Charlie, flung herself onto her knees and pulled his head into her lap. Tears streamed down her face. She sniffled. Her body convulsed with shock and trembled in horror.
“Charlie!” Aryssa yelled. “Please open your eyes.”
Kylee kicked Sammy’s gun toward the wall and placed her fingers on the side of his neck.
Aryssa f
ocused her attention, her grief, her very soul on Charlie. “You can’t be dead.” She cradled his head even more closely. “Please, don’t be…”
44
Something was off. A strange awareness drifted through Sammy. It gently trickled into his core. That burning anger he’d had toward Aryssa had dissipated and was replaced with something else—maybe it was more like nothing at all.
Neither happiness nor sadness took precedence. Neither rage nor love could dominate. There was no pain, but at the same time he felt something. It was there, somewhere—he just couldn’t describe exactly where, or what type of feeling, for that matter. At best it was an undeniable sensation of neutrality. An odd kind of balance that simply defined existence. Sammy looked up at the honey-colored lights. Why was he lying on his back?
He took a deep breath letting the warm air caress his lungs and spread through his body. Oddly, it was a warmth he had never noticed before. Sitting up, he rolled onto his feet and brushed the bits of dirt and dust off his pants. There was an almost weightless sensation in his arms. For some strange reason his movements felt almost effortless.
He noticed the woman standing at the glass wall in her cell. And the obese man in the one next to her. Sammy had gotten better at hearing the distant murmur of voices, but had never been able to differentiate between them. Now he could hear the individual people yelling. Pleading. Demanding. And he could actually see them too. What had he finally done to make this happen?
Sammy glanced over his shoulder toward the sniffles and tears. His focus narrowed onto her—onto Aryssa. She was cradling her friend’s head as his lifeless torso was splayed across the floor. Sammy forced a scoff from his throat, then compelled his cheeks to scrunch into a smile. Her friend had what was coming to him.
Another person was nearby. It was that…that young woman who had been shackled to the mattress. How did she manage to escape? How did she find her way here? She was kneeling next to Aryssa. The wick on the candle of Sammy’s anger cindered, then snuffed out, leaving a thin trail of smoke filling his room of composure.