Indigo: The Saving Bailey Trilogy #2

by Nikki Roman

  “The Allie has been this way for years and years,” Ashten says. “He wasn’t going to change the rules—not for me, not for you, not for anybody.”

  “Let’s go,” I say, grabbing Ashten’s arm and leading her out the door.

  I stop to tie Spencer’s shirt in a knot, concealing the rip, before stepping into her car. “So, why didn’t he make me join six months ago, when you told him I knew about the Allie?”

  “He didn’t know six months ago,” she bites her lip, “and I never told him.”

  “Then who did?”

  “Trenton,” she says. “A couple of months before he left the Allie.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “He walked out one day and next thing we hear he’s joined the Apocalypse.”

  I contemplate this, think about what it means for me. Ashten lights a cigarette. Smoke fills her white Honda Civic. It mixes with the odor of used napkins and Taco Bell wrappers and my stomach sours.

  “We haven’t been able get a hold of him yet,” Ashten says, her cigarette bouncing up and down in the corner of her mouth as she speaks, “but we’re gonna kill him when we do.”

  “Because he can’t just leave?” I may not know much about gangs, but I do know that once you’re in it’s for life.

  “Exactly, Cairen has him labeled as a T.O.S.” she says. “Terminate on sight.”

  I try to pay attention to the streets we turn on as she takes me to the Allie. If something happens, if I can remember the way we’ve come, I can run home.

  There are a few deteriorating buildings, a grocery store, and a small waterpark. This is the end of Fort Myers—call it the point of no return. You get mixed up in here with all the gang affiliates and neglected children—who will do anything for money, even kill—and you aren’t coming out the same person you were when you entered. If you do make it out.

  “Figures.” I sigh.

  “What?”

  “That the Allie would be down here.”

  “And the Apocalypse,” Ashten adds.

  “So, Trenton is a part of the Apocalypse now… and who else?”

  “Miemah, Poc, Terminado, Tajo, Allegiance… those are the only ones I know by name.”

  “Oh great,” I laugh sardonically, “it’s like high school all over again—my archenemies, Miemah and Trenton, with a gang of people to back them up.”

  “It’s not like high school, Bailey. You have a whole gang to back you up now, too. They can’t touch you if you’re a part of the Allie.”

  “What are they like, the Apocalypse?”

  “Well, Poc is like the dad of the gang, he’s gotta be at least thirty. Likes cats—there’s always one following him around. They call him Poc because he steals things right out of people’s pockets without them even knowing. A pick-pocket,” Ashten says. “He’s also their Ventana.”

  “Ventana?”

  “Window. He’s the gang’s lookout. We have one too, his name is Don.”

  “Is there some gangster rule that Ventanas can only have three letter names?”

  “Ha, funny,” she humors me. “Then there’s Terminado. I’ve never seen him or the others…just Poc and Allegiance. They call him Terminado because after he’s mugged somebody or beat em’ he says ‘finished.’”

  “Is their gang primarily Spanish?”

  “They’re kind of a mixed gang… makes em’ more dangerous that way. The Allie is mainly Caucasian but we have a few dark skinned members…not many,” she says. “Tajo—one of our own, shot him for coming on our turf. Allegiance is the leader, a big black guy. He’s tough as nails. Even Miemah is scared of him.”

  She pulls off the side of the road. “That old store building and alleyway,” she says pointing to two buildings flanking an alley, “is where we Allies spend most of our time.”

  “What about the other building?”

  “It’s just for show,” Ashten says. “Makes it look like we have more territory…and we do. The Apocalypse don’t even have a store, all they got is a bunch of crummy houses. Plus, we have something they don’t know about—a fallout shelter built during the Cuban Missile Crisis. We call it the warehouse.”

  I shift my eyes to the innocent looking store buildings and alleyway. In my mind, I peel away the road like sod, exposing a group of Allies huddled together underground, dirt falling in their faces as they tilt their heads up to see me. The idea makes me laugh a little.

  “My brother’s office is in the warehouse, that’s where you have to sign the oath.”

  The laugh gets caught in my throat. I cough. Ashten steps out of the car and shuts her door. I remain in my seat, trying to convince my body to move.

  “It’s best to get it over with fast,” she says. “Like swimming in cold water, you just gotta’ jump right in without thinking.”

  I step out of the car and push the door closed. Ashten and I cross the street.

  My nerves start to kick in again as we reach the side of the first store building and stall in front of a large, green metal dumpster. “What are we doing?”

  Ashten knocks on the dumpster and for a moment I think she’s lost her mind, but then there’s a knock back and she opens the lid. A teenaged boy sits inside.

  “Don,” she says.

  The boy pulls out his headphones. “Yeah?”

  “This is Bailey. She’s going to sign the Blood Oath today.”

  “Nice ta’ meet ya’, Bailey. I like your boots,” he says, as I climb over the side of the dumpster with Ashten.

  “Thanks I-uh…nice…. dumpster,” I say, falling short of a compliment for him.

  “Oh it’s not mine, it belongs to the Allie. I’m just keeping watch.”

  “The Apocys have Poc and we got Don,” Ashten says, lifting up a hatch at the bottom of the dumpster, revealing a rectangular opening just big enough for one person to fit through at a time. “We sealed off the main entrance to the warehouse years ago, this is the only way in and the only way out. You first.”

  I lower one of my boots onto a rusty metal rung, testing to see if it will hold my weight, and then, when it doesn’t snap, I set my other foot down and start the descent into the warehouse. Ashten’s feet take the place of my hands as she follows me down.

  Half way down the ladder, the hatch opens up to a room of about five thousand square feet. A distance of four feet stretches between the floor of the warehouse and last metal rung.

  You just gotta jump right in without thinking.

  I jump.

  •••

  Bright concrete shines under white fluorescent lighting. The warehouse has a sterile environment to it despite the rust stains of dry blood splattered on the walls. Two modular implant offices cover the right wall.

  At least fifty eyes stare at me. Blue eyes, green eyes, red eyes dry from toking. No one stands to greet me; no one bends in the way of a smile. The Allies were propped against the walls and lazily spread out on the floor like left-behind soldiers, killed in battle.

  Ashten squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t be scared.”

  “Gee, Ashten, if you didn’t want me to be scared maybe you should have left your knife at home.”

  “Oh, come on, it ain’t so bad. They’re friendly once you get to know ‘em. You have to meet my brother, you’ll love him.”

  She steers me to the larger of the two office cubes, its roof topped with metal railing. One of the Allies leans against the railing; I stare at his knuckles, decked out in spiked gold rings. He peels away my skin with dark brown eyes and looks into me—like peeling away the sod. Dirt gets in my eyes. I blindly step through a doorway.

  I rub my eyes of imaginary dirt and open them to a man sitting in a leather chair on wheels, his head down on a desk as he dozes.

  “Cairen, it’s the new girl!” Ashten shouts.

  The man lift’s his head and looks all about, startled.

  My legs turn to Jell-O. I’m so wobbly that Ashten has to put an arm around me to keep me from falling to my knees.

  “O
h,” Cai says. “What a fine coincidence.”

  My legs solidifying, I turn and stumble out of the office.

  “Bailey!” Ashten chases after me. “What the hell?”

  I fly to the ladder and just as my hands encircle the first rung; Ashten swoops in and pries my fingers off. I hop down.

  “That bastard is your brother?” I shriek, getting in her face.

  “Quiet! He might hear you.” Her hands on my chest, she pushes me back.

  The Allies blink at us, the scene waking them up a little so that they are more zombie than dead. “Let him hear me!” I say for all to hear. “Let him know what a piece of shit I think he is for drugging me and molesting me!”

  Ashten gasps, offended. “My brother would never do that,” she says, her eyes boring into mine, coercing me into believing that I am mistaken. I almost fall for her trap—almost.

  “He did, Ashten!” Shoving her, I scuttle up the ladder and push the cover up.

  “Oh, you’ve returned already. That was quick,” Don says, his iPod a little rectangle of light inside the dark dumpster.

  I. Can’t. Breathe.

  I flip open the lid and gulp air. Ashten is not far behind. I toss myself out, lose my balance, and stagger around as my eyes adjust to the bright alley.

  “Bailey, would you just calm down? You’re acting crazy,” Ashten says, out of breath.

  I unbutton Spencer’s shirt- my fingers trembling like I have Parkinson’s disease. Ripping it open, I start pointing out my bruises.

  She stares at me, slack-jawed, trying to make sense of all my quick, spontaneous movements. I might as well be speaking alien for the comprehension she’s got going on.

  “He pinned me down, Ashten. He beat me and tore my clothes off!”

  “He did this?” she asks, pointing to my chest.

  She grabs my wrists and flips them over, seeing they are plastered with yellow and purple bruises. Images of Cai groping me flash before my eyes like a click toy. “Oh, God.” I push my palms against my skull, pressing out the memories.

  Ashten shakes me. “Breathe!”

  I remove my palms and the memories are gone, faded back into the darkness from where they came. “Your brother tried to rape me,” I say, my voice made small by the impact of my words. “You have to believe me, I can’t join the Allie. Not with him as my leader. I’d rather die.”

  “Sit down,” she says, pushing me to the ground with a hand on my shoulder. “He really did, didn’t he? You aren’t just making it up?”

  I shake my head. “He gave me a drink at Indigo but it was drugged. I should have known,” I say. “His hands were all over me.”

  “It’s okay,” Ashten says trying to stop the flow of words from my mouth. She hugs me and puts Spencer’s shirt around my shoulders.

  “My boyfriend came; he was going to take me home. Then he saw Cai and they started fighting.” I show her the bruise along the side of my head and the cut on the inside of my cheek.

  Don pops out of the dumpster. “He did that to you? What a low life.”

  “Don’t make me go back in there,” I plead.

  “Bailey, I care about you, I do, and I know you’re upset and scared. You have every right to be, but you can’t walk away from this. You have to sign the oath and you have to become an Allie.”

  “You don’t care!” I say, shaking my head at her in disbelief. “If you cared even the slightest you wouldn’t make me join!”

  “I won’t let him touch you. All you have to do is sign your name in blood.”

  “That’s bull shit!” Don says.

  “Shut it, Don. You’re not helping,” Ashten says, her eyes bulging toward him.

  “He’s right,” I scowl. “I refuse to go back in.”

  “You have to,” she says firmly.

  “I won’t! You can’t make me!” I scream in her face, standing up. I put Spencer’s shirt back on in one swift motion and am ready to run away, when suddenly she whips out her knife again.

  “Then I have to kill you!”

  “Stop it!” Don yells. “Put the damn knife away!”

  “This has nothing to do with you, Don,” Ashten says, backing me up against the wall.

  I eye the blade; it glimmers in the sunlight like Ashten has spent her entire life polishing it, so that when this moment came, it would shine.

  I look to Don for help but he has put his headphones back in, and is hiding in the shelter of the dumpster.

  “This is how you repay me for saving your life?” I say. “Some friend you are.”

  “I’m serious, Bailey; I couldn’t be more serious about this. I have to kill you,” Ashten says, her voice mocking her words with its unsteadiness.

  “Then do it,” I challenge her for the second time today.

  She’s not going to. Not with me like this, already covered in bruises from her brother. Not after reminding her that I saved her life.

  The glittering blade cuts into my skin. One swift slice.

  I keep my eyes locked on Ashten, not wanting to look down at the cut. To see the pain is to feel it.

  “I—didn’t mean… Bailey,” she stammers, dropping the knife. Placing her hands over my stomach, she presses down. I’m too stunned to move or do little else but help her unbutton Spencer’s shirt and tie it around my waist as a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding.

  Bending down, I pick up the knife, the blade shining with my blood, and put it in her hand. “Finish me! Or are you just a coward like your brother?”

  Come on, Bailey, I think to myself, don’t do this—you’ve already run out of chances.

  “You’re bleeding…” she says, staring down at the knife in her hand, her eyes tearing up.

  “That’s what happens when you cut me,” I say, grabbing her with my bloody hands. “I bleed. I’m human. I feel pain the same way you do. Remember what it felt like to burn? Remember when I pulled you into the freezing water and held you?

  “But you slice me open like that never meant anything. So finish what you’ve started, I’m not going to join your fucking pathetic gang!”

  She tosses the knife and turns for the dumpster. “Holden!” she screams. “Helppp! I cut Bailey!” She hysterically fumbles with the hatch and disappears into the warehouse.

  “You all right?” Don asks, his voice ricocheting in the metal dumpster.

  “I’m fine,” I say, sitting with my back against the wall. “Not deep enough to hit organs. She just grazed the skin.”

  “But deep enough to sting like a bitch,” Don says.

  “Yeah.” I look down at Spencer’s shirt, the black, red, and white plaid stripes blend together with my dark blood. People need to stop letting me borrow their clothes.

  “Holden, who’s he?” I ask, knowing exactly. Holden from high school. Holden—Trenton’s best bud.

  “The nurse,” Don says.

  If I were drinking, this would be the perfect opportunity for a spit take. “A nurse?” I sputter. “Maybe we aren’t thinking of the same Holden.”

  “I guess we’ll see,” he says. “’Cause here comes.”

  •••

  Ashten and Holden climb out of the dumpster.

  It is, in fact, the very same Holden. But his eyes are sunk back in their sockets and ringed black; it looks like he’s been working the night shift of his nurse position. His walk is a little less laid back, a little more rushed. What’s the emergency?

  “He’s the Allie nurse,” Don says, “in case any of us get banged up bad… bad enough for the white room.”

  “White room?”

  Holden gets on one knee and checks my vitals; it’s all I can do to not burst out laughing.

  “Hospital,” Don says, annoyed with me for not knowing the Allie’s lingo.

  “Heart rate’s steady,” Holden says.

  “You’re makin’ that up,” I say.

  “Nope. Your vitals are good. Show me where she cut you.”

  I unravel Spencer’s shirt, feeling especially naked around
him. “Yeah, you need stiches,” he says. “Do you want my jacket?” He unzips it and hands it to me.

  “I’ll ruin it with my blood,” I say, giving it back.

  “Nonsense,” he says, helping me into the sleeves. He zips me up, gently pushing my hair behind my shoulders so it won’t get caught in the zipper. I hold his gaze for a second, surprised by how kindly he is suddenly acting toward me.

  “You go back into the Allie, sign the blood oath, then I’ll get you stitched up,” he says. “Okay?”

  “You’re going to stich me up?”

  “Yeah, I know what I’m doing. I’ve been the nurse for years, now.” He stands.

  I nod reluctantly and flash a look to Ashten.

  “See you inside, Ashtray,” Holden says climbing back inside the trashcan.

  “Ashtray?”

  “They started calling me that after Trenton threw me in the fire,” she says, her eyes looking away and settling on the alley wall behind me.

  “Are you going to help me up, or what?”

  “Oh,” she says.

  She approaches me slowly, like I’m a dangerous, wounded animal. Then again, maybe I am. She wraps one arm around my waist and eases me up the wall, against my protests of pain.

  “There,” she says, “not too bad, huh?”

  Don tucks his IPod in his waistband and lifts me over the side of the dumpster. Ashten climbs down the ladder before me. She places her hands on the small of my back to steady me as I climb down.

  When I get to the gap between the floor and last rung, I hold my breath and jump. My cut stings in fresh pain, I grimace.

  Don snakes an arm around my waist. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ve got you.” I internally roll my eyes. He keeps his arm around me, until I step foot into Cairen’s anything- but -private office.

  “You’ve come back!” Cairen says, enthusiastically lifting his hands into the air like he’s directing an orchestra.

  “Yeah, after your sister slashed me open.” I inhale sharply.

  He pushes a paper to me on his desk- the Blood Oath- and reads it aloud.

  I block him out though, because the only reason I’m signing the oath is to avoid death and nothing it says could be worse.

  “Sign here. In blood, please,” he says, as blasé as if I were signing a car rental agreement.