The Longest Night Ever Lived

by Mitch Goth

Water splashed under everyone’s feet as the door to the holding cell swung open and the group was met with the faces of Cady and Cera. All faces lit up in an instant. They all ran to each other. Nate hugged Cady, Mike hugged Cera, Taylor hugged Cady and Cera, and Bobby tried his best to hug everyone all at once.

  “You actually came to save us!” Cady exclaimed.

  “You’re damn right we did!” Nate replied. “Although we sort of lost the ‘save’ part of that plan.”

  “I don’t care,” she stopped his explanation with a kiss.

  “It’s about damn time you assholes got here,” Cera said with a smile.

  “You would not believe what we had to do tonight to get here,” Mike explained his tardiness. “I blew up a gas station.”

  “I heard about that!”

  “I got my car wrecked along the way too, if anybody cares,” Bobby remarked.

  “Seriously, dude, enough about the car. You care too much about the car,” Mike replied.

  “Wait,” Cera paused, “Bobby fuckin’ Berrer?”

  “Bobby fuckin’ Berrer,” Mike nodded with a grin.

  “Where did he get in on all this?” Cady wondered.

  “Not too long after the first attack,” Nate filled her in.

  “I had a car and a guitar, they had neither of those things,” Bobby added.

  “Well congratulations,” Hosni entered the room, “you, Mr. Bobby, successfully got yourself killed tonight.”

  “Still had some fun doing it,” Bobby smiled. “Even if my car didn’t make it either.”

  “Why do you want to kill us anyway?” Taylor asked.

  “Oh, man,” Cera laughed, “you’re gonna love this.”

  “Why, what is it?” Taylor searched the faces in the room for some kind of indication. She found none.

  “We have reason to believe one of you is an assassin that has been killing the high ranking members of my home government and ruining the regime,” Hosni explained bitterly.

  “And what government is that?” Mike inquired.

  “Syria.”

  “They’re Middle Easterners, Mike,” Nate looked over at his friend, recalling their argument in the restaurant.

  “Not to burst your racist bubble, friend,” Hosni replied, “but I am the only one here native to Syria. I moved from there at infancy, my brothers, or brother,” he aimed a finger back at the one remaining sibling, “was born and raised in the same place I was raised.”

  “And where was that?” Mike said.

  “Canada,” Josh replied.

  “You cannot be serious,” Bobby grinned.

  “They are,” Cady replied.

  “I got my car wrecked and my ear shot partially off by Canadians?”

  “One Canadian, one Syrian-Canadian,” Cady corrected.

  “Guys, guys,” Cera interjected, “we’re missing the point. They think we’re assassins.”

  At that, they all snickered.

  “Enough!” Hosni ended their joy. “This is a serious matter!”

  “How could you possibly think one of us is an assassin?” Mike asked through a few remaining chuckles. “Where would a teenager even learn how to do be one of those?”

  “The assassin we’re looking for was trained by the United Nations,” Hosni elaborated further.

  The group burst into full-fledged laughter at this.

  “Why is that so funny?” Josh asked in confusion.

  “You think the United Nation has assassins?” Nate spoke up. “The United Nations, the most useless diplomatic tool on the planet? You think they train assassins? More so, you think they trained one of us to be one of them?”

  “That’s about the gist of it, yeah,” Josh nodded.

  “I can’t believed I got stabbed over something so stupid!” Cera exclaimed.

  “You got stabbed?” Mike looked at her, puzzled.

  “Oh, yeah, the rat bastard stabbed me,” she pointed to the saucer-sized bloodstain on her pants. “Hurt like a bitch.”

  “Are you alright?” Taylor wondered in frightened concern.

  “Fine,” Cera scoffed, “the asshole can’t stab to save his life.”

  “Shut up!” Hosni blurted. All their conversation ceased. “We’re only looking for one of you, so I suggest they confess or everyone is going to have a terrible night.”

  “No offense,” Mike checked his watch, “but night is just about over.”

  “Mike, don’t exacerbate,” Nate instructed anxiously.

  “Don’t bother,” Cady remarked, “Cera’s been doing it all night.”

  “That’s my girl,” Mike gave his sister a high five.

  “Wait, do I still count in all this?” Bobby wondered. “I’m not really part of their group, I just got caught up in it.”

  “Yes,” Hosni snipped.

  “Come on, man, that’s not fair. I don’t assassinate.”

  “Shut up!” Hosni repeated. “Josh,” he motioned for his sibling, “go get our interrogator.”

  “There’s another person here?” Taylor inquired.

  “Not exactly,” the eldest brother said with a grin.

  In another moment Josh returned. He carried in both his hands, their interrogator: a long, rusty and overused chainsaw.

  “Well,” Mike scratched his head, “shit.”

  “I have to say,” Cera began her retort, “getting stabbed was awful, but bearable. A chainsaw can’t be that much worse.”

  “Are you kidding?” Nate exclaimed in obvious fear. “Look at that thing!”

  “I agree,” Cady hid behind Nate, “someone start talking.”

  “See how well it works,” Josh snickered, “I didn’t even have to turn it on.”

  “Good money says you can’t turn it on, guy,” Cera challenged.

  “That’s a bet, bitch,” Josh said with a smirk. He pulled the cord back. A few small, dead sounds came from the saw.

  Cera and Mike both began chuckling.

  “Shut up, alright,” Josh defended, “I can get this!” he pulled the cord faster and further back. A small puff of smoke came from the engine, but it came nowhere near starting.

  “Sometimes it works better if you put it on the ground and sort of kneel beside it,” Mike suggested comically.

  “You moron!” Taylor exclaimed.

  “Don’t help them!” Nate said.

  “Come on, guys, it’s funny!”

  “No it isn’t you sociopath!” Cady came around Nate to face her friend. “We’re going to die if he starts that thing!”

  “In Mike’s defense,” Bobby interjected, “I think we’re gonna die either way.”

  “It doesn’t matter, he’s not gonna start it,” Cera added, pointing to Josh, who’d taken Mike’s advice and was kneeling on the wet ground to try and start the saw. He revved it several times to the same anticlimactic outcome.

  “Is there gas in it?” Hosni asked in a low toned frustration.

  “Yeah,” Josh answered, “I put gas in just today.”

  “You know,” Bobby said, “some of them need a gas and oil mixture.”

  “Do we have oil?” Josh asked his brother.

  “It doesn’t need oil!” Hosni insisted. “It’s worked fine with just gas!”

  “Well it doesn’t now.”

  “Just keep trying!”

  “What is with all the impractical, weird weapons tonight?” Mike scoffed.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Hosni sneered.

  Bobby glared at Mike, who quickly got the message.

  “I don’t know,” Mike shrugged, not sure of what else to say.

  Hosni turned away from him with high suspicion. But still he knew getting their ‘interrogator’ started was a more pressing matter.

  Mike looked down at his watch again in nervousness. As he did, his gaze went temporarily past his timepiece and focused on the unsettled water on the floor. In the ripples he saw something rather familiar. Cement chips, decently sized ones at that. He raised an eyebrow.

  Jus
t then, a bone chilling noise shook the heads of everyone in the room. Despite Cera’s predictions, the saw started.

  “Show me the money!” Josh laughed at Cera as he stood up, deadly lawn care tool in hand.

  “Kiss my ass, Jerry,” she flipped him off.

  “It’s Josh,” he replied, giving the saw more power and enhancing the terrifying sound it produced.

  “Alright,” Hosni addressed his brother, “I’ve had more than enough of their shit tonight, kill them. For Adnan.”

  “Who’s Adnan?” Cera inquired, doing so simply to get a rise.

  “That’s it you son of a bitch!” Josh snapped, turning the saw towards the group.

  It was in that moment that Mike saw his chance. He reached down and snatched a cement chip in an instant and hurled it thoughtlessly at his intended target, praying he’d hit it.

  The rock flew and, sure enough, came to a landing right where the chain of the saw enters back into the machine. Just as quickly and he’d thrown it, the stone was sucked in by the chain. Sparks immediately began spraying in all directions. The saw began producing a far louder, far more piercing ruckus.

  “Run!” Nate commanded the only idea he could think of at the others. His yell was faint over the noise of the chainsaw, but they heard.

  Nate, Cady tight in his grip, was the first to act. He sprinted for the stunned Josh and his paralyzed machine. With one movement of mindless adrenaline Nate shoved his body against Josh’s, sending his adversary tumbling out the door and across the hallway.

  With a now open and clear exit, Nate and Cady disappeared from the room and sprinted down the hall. This left a still confused Hosni in the room with four more than ready teenagers.

  Cera was the next to spring into action. She reached for Hosni’s knife and in one flawless movement pulled it from its sheath and sent it down deep into his leg. He yelped and tumbled to the ground.

  “How’s it feel, bitch?” she commented spitefully before bolting from the room.

  Mike was soon to follow. He made sure to take a hard step down on Hosni’s leg on his way out. This caused another yelp and writhe in pain.

  Finally, Taylor hopped over the felled militant. Right before leaving to join her friends, she turned around and delivered a blow of her own. A kick straight to the top of Hosni’s head. But, in the excitement she forgot she was wearing sandals. A sharp pain shot up her leg as she delivered the blow, and she hobbled quickly away thinking his head had done more damage to her than she’d done to him. But she didn’t regret it.

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