Chuck reached out behind his body and locked the door, and I took that opportunity to launch at his groin with a foot. He hit my foot out of the air with his fist, knocking me off balance, and kicked me hard in the ribs. Pain exploded up my damaged side as I gulped in air, trying to keep my head so I could get out of this. I looked up at him again and felt my eyes widen.
He was holding a kitchen knife.
It was like I'd taken a step back from my body. For a moment it felt like my blood turned to ice. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen. I was smarter than this. I took precautions against this. He took a step toward me.
This was happening.
"We're going to have a little private time, you and I." A cruel smile twisted his features. "Now I know I don't have to tell you about screaming, because I'll have you know I've cut people before. By the looks of their reactions it isn't a pleasurable experience. I don't want to have to mar that pretty face of yours. You understand?"
I pushed myself backward and tried to stop my body from shaking. My back made contact with the wall and my heart was beating fast against my chest. The pressure there was building so much I could notice it over the searing pain in my side. I tried to force myself to calm down, but given the circumstances that was impossible. I looked around for one last ditch effort to escape, but couldn't see anything that would help me.
Chuck stepped forward.
I kicked out again and caught him in the leg, causing him to grunt in pain.
"You stupid bitch." He leaned forward and swung his arm toward me.
I lifted my hands in front of me and caught the sharp of the blade on my left hand. I gasped at the pain, so bright and sudden, and clutched my hand into my body to put as much pressure on it as possible.
"Don't make me do that again." He lifted the knife above me and pressed it into my throat. I froze against the pressure, but he didn't slash at me again. All he did was reach down with his free hand to unzip his pants. When I stopped trying to fight against him, he took the knife away from my throat.
The pressure in my chest built, and for a moment I thought I was going to have a heart attack. When his pants were down he knelt in front of me and grabbed my leg, pulling me forward and onto my back. It felt like my ribs were about to break there was so much pressure.
I couldn't even feel the cut on my hand or the pain in my ribs any more. My chest hurt so much. For a moment I wasn't able to take in any air, and I thought I was going to pass out. Chuck was reaching down to my underwear. The pressure in my chest was unbearable.
Then it exploded.
A wave of pain blew from my chest, causing me to scream the loudest I have ever screamed. At least I think I screamed, I could barely hear over the noise screaming in my head. I could feel my body explode outward, and at that moment I knew I was going to die.
And then the pain faded.
I looked down at my chest, expecting to see blood, but there was nothing. I was fine. I looked up to Chuck and for the first time noticed something strange. He wasn't moving.
It wasn't that he had stopped attacking me—it was that he was not moving a muscle. He didn't blink. He wasn't even breathing. I scrambled out from under him and stood up. The position he was in didn't even seem possible. He was leaning too far forward, and should have fallen, but he was just kind of floating in the air there. I turned to my desk and grabbed one of the thicker books from the top of the pile.
That was when I felt what I can only describe as the air in the room rush back into me. It wasn't like before, with the unbearable pressure, but there was a small bubble that I could feel back in my chest. As this happened Chuck came to life and fell face forward onto the floor.
He pushed himself up onto his hands and looked down in confusion. "What the f—"
I slammed the book as hard as I could into the back of his head. He slumped forward and dropped the knife. I kept the book raised above my head, ready to bring it down the moment he moved.
He didn't.
After a few seconds to consider I smashed the book down on him again anyway. Better safe than sorry.
I stepped back and dropped the book, my legs folding beneath me as the adrenaline wore off. My hands were shaking, I looked over to Chuck's still body and shuddered. He had been so close.
I stood and rushed to my wardrobe, grabbing pants and sliding them on, then a shirt to pull over my tank top. When I finished dressing I ran to my desk and grabbed my backpack, filling it with as much food as I could fit. I was halfway to the door when I turned back and picked up the knife, slipping it into my backpack.
I opened my door and squinted as the bright light from the hallway hit my eyes, but didn't stop moving as I made my way toward the front door. My eyes adjusted as I walked through the living room and I saw my mom lying on the couch. I paused for a moment. She was fast asleep with a needle still sticking out of her arm.
I had never felt so angry in all my life.
This was her fault. She was there to protect me. She was there to take care of me. There were things that moms were there to do, and she had failed in every way. I took one last look at the thing lying on the couch and walked out of the apartment.
I threw myself down the hallway, down the stairs, and then out of the building's front doors. The moment the cold air hit my body was the same moment the reality began to sink in. I had nowhere to go, and it was the middle of the night. Nighttime wasn't a safe time to be alone in the city, especially in the area I was in right now. Police patrols seldom came through here, and even if they did I wouldn't have wanted the police involved anyway. They would force me to go back.
I started to walk although I'd not yet decided where I was headed. I just needed to move. I had made it not fifty feet when a group of men rounded the corner and started walking toward me. Instinct kicked in and I slipped into a nearby alleyway and, after making sure it was deserted, hid behind a large trash can. The men walked past, clearly drunk, talking loudly of their exploits of the night.
As I sat waiting for the men to pass I felt a shiver slide into my body that had nothing to do with the cold. My body spasmed in revulsion and I had to squeeze my eyes shut hard to prevent them from leaking. Chuck's face flashed behind my eyelids. I took a deep breath and forced my eyes open again. Now was not the time or the place for this.
I pushed thoughts of Chuck from my mind, but it was soon replaced with the aftermath. I sat rubbing at my chest where the, for lack of a better word, explosion happened. It wasn't sore now, but I could still feel the small pressure. I still had no idea what had happened, but somehow it had frozen Chuck in place and let me escape. Confusion still flooded me when I realized where I needed to go.
Trey.
He was the only one who I could trust enough with something like this. I needed to talk with him about what had happened, and also about what I was going to do now. I had nothing to help me survive except a day's worth of food, some extra clothes, and the knife he had given me. But Trey had a plan. Trey had a way out of this situation. It had seemed risky at the time, but now it didn't look like there was another option. I needed cash and I needed it fast, and his plan was the only way to make that happen.
I listened for a few minutes to be sure I was alone. Once ready I picked myself up off the ground and began to make my way to Trey's house.
FIVE
I knocked on the window to Trey's bedroom and waited. About thirty seconds passed before I decided to try again, but just as I was about to knock the blinds were pulled back. Trey stood wearing nothing but his boxer shorts and holding a baseball bat over his head. A bubble of laughter escaped from my throat and I had to slap my hand on my mouth to prevent any more from coming through.
He sighed in relief when he saw was it was me, and then looked down at what he was wearing, turned bright red, and quickly pulled the blinds closed again.
A minute later a fully clothed Trey reappeared. He slid open his window and reached through to give me a hand, but I winced away from his
touch. A hurt look crossed his face, but he backed up and gave me room to climb in.
He frowned at me. "You look like hell. What's up?"
I opened my mouth, but no sound escaped.
Trey shook his head and pointed to the bed. "Here, sit down. I'll go get you some water."
I sat down and waited as Trey left the room. When he reappeared I realized how thirsty I was and gulped the water down. Trey sat down on the bed next to me and waited. I took a few deep breaths, collected my thoughts into something cohesive, and then told him everything.
"That son of a bitch."
I shrugged and tried to ignore the chill running through my body. "It's my own fault. I shouldn't have opened the door. Stupid mistake."
Trey stood up, his fists clenched into tight balls. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this. This was Chuck's fault. Not yours."
It felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I knew what he was saying was true, but I wasn't ready to think about it in too much detail yet. I looked up at him and tried to give a reassuring smile. "Thanks, but I don't really feel like talking about it right now."
Trey looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead just nodded and sat back down. After a few seconds he cleared his throat. I looked up at him to see a confused frown on his face.
I tilted my head to the side. "What's up?"
Trey sighed and shook his head. "So he just… froze?"
I shrugged and looked down at the floor. "I don't know what happened. All I can tell you is it shouldn't have been possible. The way he floated there. It was as if…"
Trey nudged me. "As if?"
I gave a sigh. "As if physics stopped working."
Trey sat still. I sneaked a glance sideways, and he looked deep in thought. I couldn't stand it any longer and walked to his window, looking out into the street. Down on the ground was a bus stop with another military sign. 'Report suspicious activity'. Was this what they were talking about? I spun on my heels to stare at Trey. At my movement he looked up and tilted his head to the side.
I swallowed. "You're not going to report me, are you?"
Trey looked confused for a moment, and then understanding washed over his face, followed by a frown. "I wouldn't do that to you."
I gave a nod and sat back down next to him.
We sat in silence for a few minutes until Trey turned to me. "What's the plan now then? You going to report Chuck to the police?"
I shook my head. "Nah. He didn't really do anything, so there isn't any evidence. Even if they believed me it wouldn't matter. I'm never going back there again."
Trey frowned at me. "Your mom?"
My jaw tightened. "Is dead to me."
He took a deep breath, but didn't press the issue.
I cleared my throat. "So about that job."
Trey's eyes flicked up to mine. "You've reconsidered?"
I shrugged. "Don't see that I have much of a choice."
He shook his head. "Look, Alex, you've been through a lot. Perhaps we should take a few days and-"
"I don't have that kind of time and you know it. I don't have anywhere to go, and before you offer I don't need to be a burden to anyone here. I want to do this job. Today if possible."
Trey gave me a hard look. "You sure you're ready for it?"
I nodded.
A grin split across his face and he jumped up from his bed. He strode over to his cupboard and pulled out a sketchbook he had hidden at the bottom of a drawer. He sat back down next to me and opened the book displaying a series of drawings.
"These are the plans of the building. What I could get my hands on anyway."
I frowned. Building plans had been one of the first things that the military had removed from the public the moment they took over in the wake of the bombing of D.C. "How did you get those?"
Trey winced. "They aren't official if that's what you mean. They are pieced together from the word of a friend. See how most of the areas are blank? Those are rooms he hasn't been in."
"And you can trust this friend why?"
"He was a mule for the Syndicate."
I nodded. Mules were people, usually young teenagers, hired by the Syndicate to deliver drugs around the city. Kids were the easiest to influence and bribe, and would also get lighter penalties than anyone over the age of sixteen. Also they were easier to dispose of.
I paused, realizing the wording Trey had used. "Was?"
Trey sighed. "He's dead. Turned up with a bullet in the back of his head. Police say it's gang related."
I winced. "I'm sorry."
Trey shook his head. "Don't worry about it. He knew what he was getting into."
I waited a few moments before continuing. "So why did he give you this information?"
Trey gave me a small smile. "Precisely for this reason. If anything ever happened to him, there was someone on the outside that knew about them. Someone who could screw them."
I laughed. "Well we certainly plan to do that."
He nodded and pointed and the paper again. Fifteen minutes later he had taken me through his plan.
I shook my head. "There are too many risks with the entrance. We don't know how many lookouts or guards they might have. We can't go in through the front."
"I know, but there isn't any other option."
I pointed. "What about that?"
Try frowned in confusion. "The window? How would we get there. I'm pretty sure someone would notice us climbing up the side of the building."
I nodded. "Probably, but they would be a lot less likely to notice us coming down from above."
Trey's eyebrows raised. "You want to come in from the roof?"
I shrugged. "Either that or the adjacent building, and I don't know about you but I'd rather climb down a wall than swing out over a four lane road."
Trey nodded. "I think that can work. I know where we can get some rope too." At my skeptical look he added, "I meant the roof, not the swing."
We planned for another hour, going over everything we would need to prepare. Once we had completed our preparation Trey stood and pointed toward his bed. "First thing I need you to do is get some sleep. There is only an hour until daylight, and we will need as much rest as possible before attempting this. I'll take the floor."
I grimaced. This would be the first night I'd spent outside of my locked room let alone in someone else's bed. I didn't like the idea of how open this place was.
I shook my head. "Let's just get this over with. It's going to take us a couple of hours to get where we need to go anyway, not to mention the supplies we will need."
Trey frowned at me, but nodded. "Okay, whatever you want."
I sighed and tried to hide my relief. I just didn't feel safe sleeping in the same room as someone else at the moment. We did a little more planning while we waited for the sun to rise, and once the city bustle had started again we decided to leave.
"You ready for this?" Trey asked.
"Now or never."
"There is no going back after this."
I took a deep breath to steady myself. "Let's go."
SIX
My hands shook. No. This wasn't right. This couldn't be right. This changed everything. No. Please no.
Trey stepped around the crate and whispered through his balaclava. "What's the hold up?"
I bit my cheek and remembered that I couldn't scream. There were almost certainly guards outside, and it would only take the slightest sound to get us caught.
I looked up at Trey. "It's heroin."
He tilted his head to the side. "What?"
I glared at him and whispered through gritted teeth. "The crates aren't full of cash, Trey. It's fucking heroin."
We had spent all of the last day from a rooftop nearby watching this building to see the comings and goings. It had been simple to work out the hourly schedule of pickups and drop offs, and had scaled our way down the side of the building and in through the window. We had fifteen minutes before the next scheduled pickup was set to ar
rive.
"Have you checked any more of the crates?"
I shook my head and pointed him toward one while I took another. The large steel latches held the lids on tight, so it was hard to open them up without making a lot of noise. I had to wrap some fabric bunched up from the end of my sleeve around the mechanism to deaden the sound as much as possible. A few minutes later I lifted the lid on my crate, shortly after Trey had just completed opening his own.
Both of them were full of drugs.
Trey looked up at me with a grimace. "How much time do we have left?"
I checked my watch. "Nine minutes."
"We have to get out of here. Now."
My hands shook. "So all of this was for nothing?"
Trey shook his head and turned back toward his crate. "I didn't say that." He reached in and started pulling out bricks of heroin and stuffing them into his backpack.
"Are you crazy?"
He looked up at me and shrugged. "We came this far. I'm not leaving empty handed. This is as good as cash if you know the right people."
"Trying to sling drugs outside of the Syndicate is crazy. We might as well jump out this window we're going to end up just as dead. Not only that but we're stealing from them. They won't let this go."
Trey put the last of four bricks into his bag and zipped it up. "This is what I'm doing. You can do whatever you like, but we have to get out of here now."
I shook my head. This was suicide, but I didn't see any other option. I needed money, and here is was, right in front of me. All we had to do was get far enough out of the city to sell it and we would be fine. I pulled off my backpack and filled it.
"Okay let's go."
As we both walked toward the window Trey bumped the lid that was balanced on the edge of the open crate. It was only a small bump, a few inches at most, but it was enough to push it past its tipping point. I watched, mouth open in a stunned silence, as the lid flipped over and onto the floor with a large smash.
"The fuck was that?" said a voice from behind the door. Keys started rattling and soon we heard them enter the lock in the door.
The Pulse Series (Book 1): Pulse Page 3