In Too Deep

by Fox, Harley

  I won’t be able to find the body, I know that. Maddox told them to take it to the desert, and that was hours ago. Even if I do find it, it won’t be enough. The dead body of an overdosed junkie? Big whoop, what does that prove?

  No, I need to catch them red-handed. I need to find out something else I don’t know. So, what else don’t I know?

  The image of that office building pops immediately into my mind.

  Of course! Maddox said they were going to get it up and running right away, but they didn’t say with what. It might be another weapons cache, in which case I wouldn’t have much to go on since all their guns are registered. But it may be something else. It may be a drug storage, or a cook house. There’s only one way to find out.

  And it’s a perfect time to do it.

  I stand up and turn back to where my bike is lying on the ground. But something in the distance makes me stop and look up.

  The towering monolith of the PharmaChem building is on the horizon, blocking out the stars. I few windows are still lit up, including the topmost ones. That must be where Will Silver is. I sneer and look away, walking to pick up my bike. Brushing any debris off of it, I climb on and kick it into life again, then ride toward where the office building is.

  It doesn’t take me long to get there. I turn onto the street and see it in the distance. The building is dark, although a little bit down the road is a street lamp, illuminating a small patch of ground not far from it. I decide I’m going to park my bike a bit down the road and walk the rest of the way. It’s quiet here, but I can’t take any chances.

  I kill the engine and walk my bike up to the side of the road, putting down the kickstand and getting off. I take my gun out and make sure it’s loaded, flicking the safety off. Like I said, I can’t take any chances. Hearing only my footsteps crunch on the gravel, I slowly walk toward the building, checking for any movement, my ears straining to hear any noise.

  As soon as I pass the sidewalk bordering the building, though, a light at the front turns on, illuminating the walkway up to the door. I freeze, then drop my gun to my side and walk at a normal pace to a darker section. My heart is hammering, but as soon as I’m in the shadows again I slow down, turning my head. Finally I come to a stop, staring at the door where the light just turned on.

  I wait for someone to come out. My pulse is racing, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do if someone comes out. Shoot them? Try to talk to them? Or just keep on walking? I guess I’ll find out in the moment. I finger the side of my gun, finding the safety, making sure it’s still off.

  But nobody comes out. Eventually the light clicks off, and when my eyes adjust to the dark again I look above the door and notice something beside the light: a motion sensor. Relief floods through me. I check around the building for other motion sensors, but the only one I see is above that door. I even walk around to another side of the building, skirting the sensor’s range, and see another door without one.

  Giving one more quick check for anyone on the street, I decide to try this side of the building. I slowly walk up to the windows first, looking black in the darkness of night. But when I reach them and try to peer inside, my heart drops when I see that they’ve been frosted over. They weren’t like that before! Maddox must’ve had that done after we left. That just means that whatever’s going on inside is something he doesn’t want the public to see. My heart leaps and I’m excited again. Whatever’s happening inside this building is exactly what I want to find.

  I decide to check another window, just to be sure. This one’s frosted too, which means they probably all are. What about the door? There’s a window on the door. It might not show me anything, but it might show me something. I slowly walk over to the door and, once again, the window is frosted.

  Fuck. I know it’s a long shot, but I decide to try the door handle. I jiggle it, feeling that it’s locked. Of course it’s locked. I look around, checking for any other way in. What I wouldn’t give for just five minutes inside here with nobody else around. I could just take some pictures, leave the place as it is, and then bring in the force, maybe even tonight. It could put an end to all of this-

  Suddenly, bright light blinds me and I have to lift a hand to shield my eyes. I thought this door didn’t have a motion sensor! But even as I think that, I realize that this light can’t be coming from above the door if it’s blinding me.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  My heart drops. Fuck. I know that voice. That’s the voice of Maddox.

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  “Turn off the fucking light!” I shout. A moment passes, and my heart is in my throat, but finally the light cuts off. Now I really have to blink. It’s like I’m blinded for real. I hear the familiar crunch of bike tires rolling on the road, and the sound of a kickstand being lowered. By the time I see Maddox sitting on his bike my vision is almost completely returned.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fact that my brain tries reminding me that I’ve just been caught red-handed, and that I might actually die very soon. “It’s dark out, you almost blinded me!”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Maddox asks me, still straddling his bike. I realize I still have my gun in my hand, so I put it away.

  “What am I doing here?” I ask. “What are you doing here, scaring me? I could’ve shot you!”

  My vision is back now, but in the dark I can still only just make out Maddox’s expression. He doesn’t look happy, that’s for sure. No, instead he looks pissed.

  “Trista,” he says, and his tone sounds like one of finally understanding. “You know, I was sitting in my office, still trying to get things sorted out. That stuff that killed Twixer … I needed to get it fixed, and I swore that I wasn’t leaving my office until I did. But as I talked to some of Will’s chemists, explaining the situation for the hundredth time, and thinking to myself, ‘This day could not get any worse,’ one of my security feeds changed and do you know what I saw?”

  I try not to swallow, and I keep my jaw set.

  “No, what?”

  “A light turning on. The light at the front door of this building. It’s a good thing I got that one installed, since it was our last one until some more come in next week. I checked the monitor, and who should I see? Is it a raccoon? Is it some punk trying to rob the place? No, it’s our own little Trista!”

  I don’t say anything. He goes on.

  “What is Trista doing there, I asked myself. She’s moving pretty suspiciously. She first froze, and then walked off to the side, holding a gun beside her. That’s odd. I told the chemists I’d call them back and decided to come check this out myself. So I showed up, turning off my engine when I got close enough. And what did I see? You, peering through this window and trying to get in this side door. So now, Trista, kindly tell me: what the fuck are you doing here?”

  My heart feels like it’s stopped. I rack my brain for some sort of excuse, but nothing’s coming to mind. Maddox drops his head, shaking it. Reaching behind him, he pulls something out of a holster on the bike. A shotgun. He gets off his bike, still shaking his head, walking toward me.

  “I should’ve known,” he says, his voice tinged with disappointment. “You come to us, asking to become a member, and I’ve never even heard of you before. I should’ve known you can’t be trusted.” He racks the gun, the sound terrifying, and it’s all I can do not to pee myself. “Were you trying to rob us? Did you want to break in and steal our product? Or find out the recipe? Or maybe you’ve had a change of heart about the Bullets. Maybe you’ve gone over to the Chains.” He stops several feet from me. “Or maybe you’re a cop.” The gun raises, Maddox pointing it at my chest. Those two black barrels look like death. He sighs. “I should’ve known. It was nice knowing you, kid.”

  “You’re right,” I finally say, my brain kicking its way out of the blockage it’d found itself in. “I’m here for the recipe. I want to find out just what the fuck went wrong.
”

  Maddox hesitates, his finger already on the trigger. But he doesn’t say anything. I go on, having no idea where I’m going with this.

  “Things got fucked up today, Maddox. You know that. One of the Slingers died, and nobody wanted that to happen. Least of all the Slingers. So what do you think they’re going to do, huh? Think about it. Put yourself in their shoes.”

  The shotgun stays where it is, but I’m not dead yet. I keep talking.

  “You’re a Slinger. You’re doing your job, trying to sell this stuff that you hear is putting people in the hospital. But you keep selling it, because you’re tied in with the Bullets, and you love the Bullets. I mean, they’d have to love us, given how they keep coming back after all the abuse we give them.

  “Suddenly the leader of the Bullets—that’s you—calls them in. He’s pissed. He’s accusing them of tampering with the drugs, which you definitely didn’t do. He won’t take no for an answer. Then he holds down one of your friends, one of your best friends, and forces this shit drug up his nose, and guess what? This friend of yours dies right in front of you, for something you didn’t even do.”

  Maddox is staring at me, along with those two black barrels. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t lower the shotgun. I go on.

  “Maddox is pissed, and he doesn’t even apologize. Not only that, but he tells you to take the dead body of your friend and go bury him in the desert. That’s fucked, Maddox. Even for the most obedient of lap dogs, that’s a fucked-up way to treat them. So I was thinking about it. If I were a Slinger, what would I do? Would I just turn tail and run? Or would I first try to break into an entire factory’s worth of drugs and steal it all, and then turn tail and run?

  “So I came here, tonight, before it was too late for anything to happen. I checked the windows for broken glass, and I was just checking the door when you showed up, blinding me with your headlight and shoving a fucking shotgun in my face. So that’s what I’m doing here, Maddox. Now if you don’t mind, kindly get that fucking thing away from me before we both do something we’ll regret.”

  I’m looking Maddox in the eyes, trying not to stare into the end of this gun. He’s looking back at mine … and then he sighs, dropping his gaze, taking his finger off the trigger and lowering the gun.

  I breathe a silent sigh of relief. I’m not out of this just yet. It’s a struggle to keep myself from shaking.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sorry. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I didn’t handle the situation in the best possible way. It’s just that things are getting so fucked up lately. Now that everything’s up and running I’m expected to keep on top of everything, to know the ins and outs of everything. But Will doesn’t tell me shit. He just holds it all back, but expects everything of me.”

  He sighs again, and now that my life isn’t being threatened I see just how weary Maddox looks. Has he always looked like that? Maybe I just haven’t noticed it before.

  “Things change day by day,” he goes on. “And now this shit, where kids are going to the hospital, and you have to live with the fact that it’s you doing it, that it’s something you’re selling them that’s making them go blind. I didn’t want this. I didn’t sign up for this shit.” He looks at me. “You know, I joined the Bullets when I was about your age.” He lets out a soft laugh. “I just wanted to be with a group of friends, like I was when I was in high school. Most of my high school friends ended up leaving Santa Espera. But I stayed. I just wanted to go out to bars, get drunk, get high, make money. I didn’t want some buttoned-down life. So the Bullets seemed like a dream come true. But now that I’m in charge, it’s different. And with Will …”

  He sighs again.

  “I’m sorry, Trista. For pulling the shotgun on you. And for the light. I just … I was just stressed out. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  I swallow, clearing my throat.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”

  He smiles, then glances at the building.

  “Don’t worry about security, by the way. Everything’s locked down; it’s all under control. Once we get more of those motion sensor lights up, that’ll be the last thing. Then we’ll be good.” He sighs again. “Jesus Christ, I’m tired. I think those chemists can wait till tomorrow. I’m going to go home and I’m going to bed.”

  He turns around and walks back to his bike, holstering the shotgun and climbing on. He looks at me.

  “You got your bike?”

  “Yeah, it’s over there,” I point. He looks over and sees it, nodding.

  “Okay. Well, have a good night, Trista.”

  “You too, Maddox,” I say, lifting a hand as he kicks the bike into life and turns, driving off down the road.

  I watch him go, the silhouette of him in the bike’s headlight getting smaller before he turns the corner and is gone. I turn and stumble a few steps until I reach the grass beside the building, vomiting up whatever’s in my stomach. It lands in a wet pile by my feet, and then it’s over. I straighten up, spitting, trying and failing to get the taste of bile out of my mouth.

  “Jesus Christ,” I say softly to myself. I’m starting to shake. I need to get home.

  Leaving my pile of sick, I walk briskly away from the building toward my bike. Getting on, it takes me a few tries but I finally kick it to life. Then, breathing deeply to settle my stomach, I turn out onto the road and begin the ride home.

  Flynn

  Trista’s hands are all over me.

  I’m swimming in bliss, feeling her touch me, rub me, pulling me closer and sliding my cock up into her beautiful pussy.

  It all feels so good. The two of us float together in a nebula, swimming, swirling, moving together as I hear her breathing, feel her pulse all around me, feel her grab onto me and moan and cry out as I push myself deeper into her.

  Her eyes meet mine and I’m lost in those green orbs, forgetting about everything around me. Forgetting the Bullets, forgetting my past. It’s all here with her; she’s all that I need. I slide up further into her and her eyes close in ecstasy as she pulls me in for a kiss, our lips and tongues meeting, dancing, coming together.

  The pleasure is all in and around me. I can hear Trista getting closer and I’m getting closer myself. She’s everything to me. Then she gives out a sudden gasp and my eyes open, and just like that I’m staring at my ceiling, the ceiling of my bedroom, and my cock is hard and throbbing underneath my sheets and my heart is beating fast and I have to remind myself that it was just a dream.

  Just a dream.

  But even though it was a dream, that doesn’t mean it didn’t turn me on.

  I reach underneath my sheets and grab a hold of my cock, closing my eyes, trying to remember the dream. Feeling Trista, hearing her sounds, smelling that heady scent that only she has. My hand slides up and down my shaft and it feels so good. I see her in front of me. She’s naked, naked and beautiful. She comes to me and I wrap my arms around her, feeling her soft skin, those curves melting into me in just the way that I want them to.

  My hand moves faster over my cock as I imagine myself sliding up inside of Trista. Hearing her moan inside my head makes me moan out loud, and now I’m bucking my hips, moving in time with the imaginary version of myself. Trista kisses me and I kiss her back. Her breasts push themselves against my chest and I can feel her nipples, hard little things. Down below, underneath the sheets, I’m sliding my legs back and forth. This feels so good, and I just want to have her on me again, even if it’s just one last time.

  She moves faster, and I move faster in real life. Her sounds, her smells, it all combines in my head to bring me closer and closer to the edge. I keep fucking her, keep fucking my fist. My body’s moving faster now. I push the sheets off of myself, so it’s just my naked body sprawled out on the bed. I hear Trista’s sounds, hear her come closer to climax herself and that’s the last thing I needed.

  My hand moves fast and I let out a straining grunt, feeling my cock pulse hard, feeling that hot splash of
cum against my belly. I’m still fucking Trista, filling her with my seed as she comes against me. I can still hear her, and every moan she gives makes me come even more.

  Finally my balls are drained and my heart is racing fast and I have to stop, otherwise I’ll just keep going and I know I’ll never leave this bed. I open my eyes and look down at my cock, still hard, throbbing in my grip. My hand and stomach are covered in my thick, white cum. I breathe in deep through my nose and let it out, dropping my head back down on my pillow.

  Now I can actually think clearly. I was dreaming about her again. Trista. To be honest, this is getting kind of annoying. Every night for the last four nights I’ve had wet dreams about her, and every morning for the past four days I’ve had to jerk off to the thought of her. It’s been this way ever since I saw her at the bar and we held hands, if only for those short moments. I don’t know why, but that’s what’s pushed me over the edge.

  It was also the same day that Slinger died. Twixer. Fucking shame, but it is what it is.

  I guess what I can’t get off my mind is how shaken up Trista was. She was upset by it, and for good reason, but it’s almost like she was too upset. I mean, the guy was just a shitty Slinger. It’s not like she knew him or anything. I guess she’s still sort of new to all this, though. Maybe she just hasn’t seen enough people die. Ah well, give it time and she will. She’ll harden up, just like the rest of the Bullets.

  Just like me.

  But I can’t delude myself about her. I mean, it’s not like Trista’s into me. Not the way … I mean, not the way chicks usually are. I can tell. For one thing, I hardly see her at the meetings or at the warehouse. She’s gone a lot of the time, only showing up in the evenings, or on random days. I haven’t wanted to ask her where she’s been. It’s not my business. It’s not like I’m her boyfriend or anything. She doesn’t owe me anything.