Forever - 02

by Lauren Burd

  I followed Duncan through the door and took a deep breath. The scent of mold, dust, and dirt were heavy in the air. There was also the faint scent of marijuana. Two humans had recently been through the room as well. The one scent I couldn’t find was that of an Immortal. Maybe Duncan was wrong, and the guy had used the main entrance.

  “Smell anything funny?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe one of the maintenance workers moved the camera.”

  Duncan seemed worried but said nothing. I didn’t believe me, either. We followed the corridor until we came to an elevator. There was a key pad covered in grime next to it. Only four buttons on the pad were relatively clean.

  “Give me a minute,” Duncan said as he prepared to start trying codes.

  “Try 90048.”

  He raised an eyebrow but punched in the code and hit Enter. A moment later, the light changed from red to green. He gave me a questioning look.

  “It’s the zip code. I didn’t figure they would get real creative with the number.”

  He opened the door, and I finally recognized where we were─the emergency stairwell that ran up through the middle of the building. I must have passed the maintenance room door a hundred times. I’d always wondered what was behind the door, but the keypad had kept me from exploring.

  We began our cautious walk up the stairs. It felt weird sneaking through a building I had every right to be in. As we rounded the landing leading to the top floor, a strange sense of foreboding hit me.

  “I really think we should call the cops,” I said in a final plea.

  “What are the cops going to do?”

  “Their job.”

  “They’ll just make a bigger mess.”

  “What do you have against cops?”

  He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Nothing, if I was human. But we’re not human. You have to get it through your head. If the cops… if anyone finds out about what we are, we’ll be dissected and studied. For us, there are no cops or laws. There’s only staying alive and staying unnoticed. Do you get it?”

  His eyes bored into mine, pleading with me to understand. I’d never considered the issue of getting discovered. People were pretty dismissive and not very observant in general, but if we were imprisoned, injured, taken to the hospital… I wanted to believe he was wrong, but people had been searching for the fountain of youth since they had developed a frontal lobe. We would end up being guinea pigs in some lab.

  I nodded.

  He opened the door, and we crept out into the hallway. Only two condos were on the floor. I pointed to the left, and we headed that way. As we reached the door, I realized we had no weapons.

  I signaled for Duncan to stop. He gave me a weird look. I showed him my empty hands, and he rolled his eyes. Taking my hands in his, he rolled them into tight balls. My eyes bugged out of my head. He couldn’t possibly be serious. I was supposed to fight the guy with only my bare hands? Then Duncan pointed to himself. He didn’t expect me to fight, but it did little to calm my nerves.

  He again motioned for me to come forward, indicating the fingerprint scanner on the door. I placed my thumb on the pad, but nothing happened. The stupid thing was probably heat sensitive, and I was too cold for it to read the impression.

  Duncan took my hand between his and rubbed it, creating heat. Then he put it up to his mouth and blew air across it. My stomach clenched tighter. I hated that my body still reacted to him even when we were heading into a fight. I took my hand back and put my thumb on the scanner. A loud click rang out as the lock disengaged. I gritted my teeth at the sound. Motioning to the corner, Duncan waited until I was out of the way before opening the door.

  I held my breath as he stepped over the threshold and out of sight. Thirty seconds later, I heard two soft pops. They reminded me of a weak firecracker, but it was nowhere near the Fourth of July. Without thinking, I rushed over to the door. I saw Duncan in the middle of the living room, on his knees, clutching his stomach. He looked up at me and what little color was left in his face drained away.

  “Run,” he gasped, holding up his hand.

  “Please try not to bleed on the floor,” a clear deep voice said from behind the door. “It makes clean up so much harder.”

  I spun around and was face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. I quickly considered my options. If I ran, Duncan would be at this guy’s mercy. Even with his accelerated healing, I doubted he could stand up to a shot in the head. The chances of my winning a fight were slim to none with someone holding a gun to my head. My only other option was to wait and hope for an opening to get Duncan and me out of there.

  I tore my eyes off the shiny metal instrument and tried to focus on the man holding the weapon. Nothing about him would make him stand out in a crowd. He wore a nice T-shirt and jeans, but the colors were muted. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were hazel. He appeared like every other thirty-something walking down the street.

  “I didn’t expect you to be here, but I guess that’ll save me a trip later.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, sounding braver than I felt.

  “It looks like we have some time to kill.” The man holding the gun chuckled at his horrible joke. “So, why don’t we have a little fun?”

  I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. If his job was to hunt people down and kill them, I hated to think about what his idea of fun was. I was about to tell him to go jump off a building when my phone rang. The would-be killer rolled his eyes.

  “You seriously let her bring a phone?” He glared at Duncan. “And you left it on?” He turned to give me a disapproving look. “Well, aren’t you going to answer it?”

  I fumbled with the small plastic device as I tried to answer it. Samuel’s smiling face was on the screen. It was my lucky break. He would realize something was wrong and get back here to help us. I just had to stall this psycho until then.

  “Don’t forget to put it on speaker phone,” my captor said.

  “Hello,” I said into the receiver as naturally as possible.

  “Hey, beautiful. How are you doing?” Samuel sounded worried.

  “Did you get my message?” I asked. The gunman raised his eyebrow but didn’t seem too concerned.

  “No. I just wanted to hear your voice. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I’m just hanging out at the condo.” I hoped he would realize I meant my Dad’s place and not the apartment.

  “Is Duncan with you?”

  “Of course.”

  There was a long pause. “I have to let you go. The phone Nazi is coming. I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too.”

  A deafening click echoed through the room as Samuel disconnected. I fought back tears. I only hoped he would get my message and come to help. Then, I remembered I’d forgotten to call Samuel before we left. I suddenly felt sick. There was no message, and there would be no one coming to rescue us.

  “Why don’t you let me take that?” the gunman asked, a sarcastic lilt to his voice. He wasn’t really asking. Placing the small device on the floor, he put his foot over it. A wicked smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he slowly applied pressure to my only way of communicating with the outside world. I cringed as the plastic creaked then buckled under his weight.

  “Now, if you would please take a seat.” He indicated the edge of the sectional.

  I reluctantly sat down.

  He gave me an approving smile. “If you wouldn’t mind putting your hands behind your back?”

  My heart stopped beating.

  “If you can’t follow the rules, I’m afraid I’m going to have to shoot your friend again.”

  I quickly complied with his request. I felt two tiny bands slipped over my wrist. As he tightened my restraints they made a zipping sound. I’d been in a garage enough to know what the sound was and knew it wouldn’t be easy to get free.

  “That’s not too tight, is it?” he asked. He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Did you want some
thing to drink before we begin our game?”

  I stared at my unknown host in complete confusion. He’d just finished tying me up. Duncan was on his knees and appeared to still be bleeding, despite his accelerated healing. The guy was probably only waiting around for my dad to show up so he could kill him. So I couldn’t understand why he was playing host.

  “I’ll take your silence as a no. Well, I’m going to get one.”

  The gunman turned his back on me and started toward the kitchen. His still held the gun, but it was no longer pointing in my direction. I tested the ties that bound my wrists, but despite my increased strength, they only dug deeper into my skin. I would need a pair of scissors or a knife to cut the cords. Even with my hands secured behind my back, I decided to take the risk. It would probably be the only chance I had to catch him off guard, but as I prepared to pounce, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to stare at Duncan. He shook his head ever so slightly. I couldn’t be sure, but it he was shaking his head ever so slightly, telling me no. Maybe he had a plan.

  “I know you didn’t answer, but I got you a bottle of water.” My host placed the bottle, along with a deck of cards, on the coffee table in front of me. “Don’t worry. It’s still sealed. I didn’t want you to think I put anything in it.”

  He sat down in a chair across from me and sipped his water. “I suppose I should explain the rules before we begin. Have you ever played High Low?” I nodded. “Good, that makes this so much easier.”

  “What are we playing for?”

  He grinned, but the glint in his eye made me want to crawl under a bed and hide. “I’m so glad you asked. We’re playing for the chance to choose.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “Choose what?”

  He looked as though he might burst as he prepared to answer my question. He was enjoying the situation far too much for my comfort. “Where my next shot goes.”

  “What?” I asked in a disbelieving whisper.

  His smile broadened, sending chills down my spine. “If I guess wrong, then you get to choose the location of the next bullet I put into your friend. If you guess wrong, then I get to choose.”

  I glanced at Duncan, still slumped forward holding his abdomen. “I won’t play.”

  “If you don’t play, then I get to choose where the bullet goes right now.”

  My shoulders sagged in defeat.

  “Shall we begin?”

  Cover Up

  My captor mixed the deck thoroughly, or at least appeared to do so. I seriously doubted he would actually leave the game to chance.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I deal,” he said, flipping over the first card.

  I didn’t bother to respond to his taunt as I stared at the card. I couldn’t believe my luck─a king. I almost smiled until Duncan moaned and reminded me exactly what the stakes of this game were.

  “Higher,” I answered.

  Our captor raised his eye brow. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded firmly.

  He smirked and turned the next card. It was an ace. “Do you play cards often?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t figure you would leave something like torturing your victims up to chance.”

  His smile broadened. “Let’s try it again, then. This time, I promise not to cheat.”

  He picked up the deck and began to reshuffle the cards. I glanced over at Duncan again. I wanted to go over and make sure he was okay, but it was impossible. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t healing like he did before. It had only taken a few minutes for his neck to heal after Samuel attacked him. Maybe he was too hurt to heal. The thought sent a chill through me.

  “Should we try this again?”

  I swallowed down my disgust.

  As my captor turned over the card, I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Duncan rushed our host, and the two of them fell in a pile on the floor. I sat on the edge of the sofa for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Before I could wrap my head around it, I heard a sickening wet sound as the hit man landed a blow to Duncan’s gut. Duncan coughed, and blood poured from his mouth.

  My stomach flipped, and I tasted bile on the back of my tongue. The hit man pushed Duncan off of him and scrambled to his feet. Duncan lay on the floor, gasping for air. Our nameless captor reached for his gun sitting on the coffee table. Acting on instinct, I lashed out with a quick kick and sent the gun flying across the room. His face contorted with rage, and fire burned behind his eyes as he lunged toward me.

  Duncan threw himself at the man again and landed a heavy blow on the side of his face. The man’s head twisted to the side with a loud cracking sound. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he toppled to the floor. Duncan turned his gaze on me. Blood still oozed from his gunshot wounds and leaked from his mouth. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk before collapsing to the floor.

  Slowly, I began to come out of my stupor. As I choked down my revulsion, I started to think more clearly. Duncan was lying on the floor, clearly in need of medical attention, my hands were still secured behind my back, and our captor was out for the moment, but I didn’t know how long that would last. I needed to free my hands, and I was on my own.

  I walked into the kitchen and used my feet to knock the knife stand off the counter and onto the floor. For some reason, I thought about my dad freaking out about the germs all over the floor. I separated one of the smaller knives from the group with my feet and sat on the floor in front of it. Glancing over my shoulder, I located the knife with my fumbling fingers. I gripped the handle as best as I could and attempted to slide the blade between the plastic band and my wrist. After a few pricks and cuts, I managed to get it in place and cut myself loose.

  Standing up, I ran over to check on Duncan. I felt his neck. His pulse was weak and slow but steady. His breathing was shallow but even. I sighed, feeling a little better about our situation. He was hurt, but he didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger.

  Walking around to the gunman, I nervously checked his wrist for a pulse but felt nothing. Carefully, I reached for his neck, but I stayed ready to leap away in case he awoke and grabbed at me. Nothing.

  I pushed him over onto his back and cringed as I stared down at his face. The side where Duncan had landed his blow was deformed. His neck didn’t seem right either. The angle was off. I fought back the urge to be sick as I looked into his eyes, which stared up at the ceiling but seeing nothing. There was no way he could have survived. It was all surreal.

  Duncan moaned, bringing me back to reality. I searched the dead man’s body for some form of identification but came up empty. Grabbing his bag, I checked it as well, but there was nothing but some very mean-looking devices. I could only imagine their uses.

  I tried to come up with a plan, but I’d never been in a situation even remotely similar. I wanted to call Samuel back, but my dad had his home phone disconnected years ago, and my cell was broken beyond repair. I was on my own.

  Searching through the spare bedroom, I found a large suitcase and carried it out to the living room. It appeared a little small, but I hoped it would work. Picking up our captor, I attempted to put him in the suitcase. It took a few tries, but I eventually got him packed inside.

  I wheeled the bag over to the front door and went to work cleaning up the blood splatters on the floor. I was thankful for the hardwood floors as I scrubbed the dark red spots. There was no way I couldn’t have gotten everything cleaned up from a carpet. As I was finishing up, Duncan regained consciousness.

  “Don’t move,” I said, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  I could only imagine the pain he was suffering. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. You’ve lost a lot of blood, and it doesn’t look like you’re healing. Why is that?”

  “Where is he?” His eyes were wild as he tried to sit up and look around. I shoved him back down as blood began seeping fr
om his wounds again.

  “You need to stay lying down. He’s in the suitcase by the door. You did a number on his face.” The image flashed in my head, and I had to fight the urge to be sick. “I’ve finished cleaning up, but it took longer than I thought. We really need to get out of here. My dad will probably get here soon, and I don’t want him to see us.”

  “How are we getting out of here?”

  “I was hoping you might have a plan.”

  He chuckled slightly before cringing. “I’m afraid I’m out of ideas for the moment.”

  “Do you think you can walk to the elevator?”

  He considered it for a moment then nodded.

  I went into my dad’s room and got a T-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. I wasn’t sure if they would fit, but they would have to work. Going into the bathroom, I grabbed a hand towel from the linen closet and some of the self-adhesive wrap from under the sink.

  I caught sight of my reflection. It seemed as if I were on the verge of passing out. My skin was pasty white instead of its usual creamy color, and my clothes were covered in blood. Duncan wouldn’t be the only one changing clothes.

  After I finished gathering my supplies, I rejoined Duncan in the living room. He had propped himself against the sofa despite my warning earlier to stay lying down.

  “What’s all that for?” he asked as I laid everything out on the coffee table.

  “I can’t take you out of here in blood-stained clothes.”

  “You have a plan then?”

  I nodded. “Can you put your arms up?”

  He gave me a questioning look but did as I asked. I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and gently pulled it over his head. I examined at the two small holes in his abdomen. Blood still drained from them but much slower than I would have expected. I soaked some gauze pads in warm water and did my best to clean his wounds.

  “If I knew that getting shot would get me this treatment, I would have done it sooner.”

  I glared at him. “You’re lucky you’re injured.” I covered his abdomen with sterile gauze and wrapped it. “Lie down so I can get your pants off.”