Sweet Destruction

by Paige Weaver

  We had only gone a few feet when the kid struck a match against the wall. The flare lit up the hallway. He held the lit end to his cigarette then blew the flame out, casting the hallway in shadows again. Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he watched us, blowing out a lungful of smoke.

  “What’s the baby doing here?” he asked, frowning down at me.

  Bentley’s back went ramrod straight. “She ain’t no baby – she’s my sis. You got a problem with that?”

  The kid studied me like I might taste good with his dinner. I stared back, not letting him see how scared I was.

  “Keep her out of the way and we’re good. Got it?” the kid said, flicking the end of his cigarette on the worn carpet under our feet.

  “Mind your own business and we’re good. How about that?” Walker said with a dangerous tone, standing behind me.

  The kid turned his beady eyes on Walker, squinting through the cigarette smoke. I tensed, waiting for him to pounce. I had a feeling we were on his turf and expected to follow his rules. But Walker – he followed no one’s rulebook.

  Walker stared down at the kid, animosity rolling off him. The air became thick with tension. I had seen Walker fight kids much bigger than this one and win without a scratch or a bruise on him. This boy didn’t have a chance.

  “No problemo. She can stay. Ain’t no girls here. That’s all,” the kid said, backing down and forcing a smile on his face.

  Walker didn’t say anything. He just motioned for Bentley and me to keep walking, his eyes staying on the kid until we were a few steps ahead.

  The boy followed us down the hallway, careful to keep his distance. I could smell his cigarette smoke as he puffed and blew it out behind us. The scent reminded me of my mother. I wondered what she would do if she found out I was hanging around an abandoned motel with a bunch of guys. Probably nothing. As long as I stayed out of her hair, she really didn’t care what Bentley and I did.

  In a few more feet we were deep in the hollows of the motel, far from the entrance we came through. The odor was stronger, almost choking me. It reminded me of mold and spoiled food, all rolled into one. I tried holding my breath but the smell invaded my senses and seeped into my clothing.

  It wasn’t the only problem. The darkness was growing the further we went into the motel. I held out my hands, feeling blind. Peeling wallpaper crumbled under my fingers as I trailed them along the hallway wall. I started to feel panic bubble up inside me but soon we saw a light up ahead. I felt relief but it was short-lived.

  There was male laughter coming from up ahead.

  With fear, I followed Bentley and Walker. A few more feet and we were entering another room. It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the light streaming in through a window after being in the dark hallway. When they finally did, I saw that we were in the main entrance of the motel.

  It was stuffy with a closed-up smell. Trash littered the floors and the front check-in counter. Red wallpaper covered the walls, most of it peeling or missing. Some broken furniture had been left behind, stuff that probably looked cheap even when it was new.

  We followed the kid through the lobby to yet another room. This one was just as bad as the other. Papers and empty boxes were everywhere. Broken chairs were overturned and there were a few desks with missing legs. The ceiling had also collapsed in one corner, leaving wires and insulation hanging down.

  But it was who faced me that had me scared.

  At least ten boys were sitting on boxes or on the floor. They ranged in age from thirteen to older than Walker and Bentley. They looked mean and dangerous, from the chains hanging from their belt loops to the bandanas around their foreheads. The thirst for violence was in their eyes and oozed in their body language.

  Because I grew up in the poor section of town, I had seen kids like these driving down the street and standing on corners. They wore their gang colors with pride and were always looking for trouble.

  This group of boys wasn’t any different.

  One of them tipped a bottle to his lips, taking a long drink of some kind of liquor. He had the look of a leader, someone powerful and cocky. His eyes flicked over us, one at a time. When he stared at me longer, I grew nervous. Something was telling me to be afraid of this guy.

  Walker must have seen the leader’s interest in me because he shifted to his other foot, placing his body in front of mine. On a normal day, I would have rolled my eyes and shoved him out of the way, but this time I didn’t. I was too nervous and scared.

  The leader took another drink, his eyes glued to us. The sound of alcohol splashing around the bottle interrupted the quiet tension in the room, sending unease through me.

  After a long swig, the leader lowered the bottle, letting it dangle between his bent legs. “What’s up, Walker?” he asked, his voice laced with distrust and wariness.

  Walker didn’t answer. He was too busy sizing the kid up. I had seen him do it before, scoping out his enemy, assessing the threat.

  “You’re in the wrong neighborhood, Manny,” Walker said, strolling toward the leader, his boots kicking up dust. “Carlos gets wind of you here, you’re a dead man.”

  The kid grinned and held out his hands in innocence. “This is a free country, homie. We ain’t hurting nobody. Just drinking a little cerveza and smoking a little smoke.” He held the bottle out for Walker. “We good?”

  Walker didn’t answer. Tension clogged the room and a silent threat breathed around us, caging us in.

  I held my breath, waiting for the moment when one of these kids attacked. I wanted to grab Bentley and make a run for it, but instead I stood still.

  There were two types of people on my side of town – the ones that took and the ones they took from. These kids were the takers, the ones that didn’t care what color your skin was or what language you spoke. When they wanted something, they got it. They were the gang members, the criminals; the ones who controlled areas of town. They had stupid rules and even stupider reasons for being in a gang, but they were dangerous. Bentley and I knew to stay away from them. But not Walker.

  He was one of them.

  He stopped in front of the leader and grabbed the bottle of beer from the kid’s hand. Keeping his eyes on the kid, Walker took a long drink.

  I swallowed, almost able to feel the burn. One time my mama left a half-empty liquor bottle on the coffee table. I was about eight at the time and curious. I wanted to see what she had liked so much about the stuff. So I took a big sip, holding the bottle up with two hands. As soon as the liquid hit my throat, fire had run through my insides. I coughed and gagged, feeling like I was dying. I’ll never forget that. Bentley had stayed mad at me for days, saying alcohol was only for grownups.

  But Walker wasn’t a grownup and he was chugging it down like it was no big deal. It didn’t feel right watching him drink it. Like a bad omen, I had a feeling that sip of alcohol would be the beginning of something that would tear him apart and change him forever.

  And I wasn’t very far from the truth.

  Walker handed the bottle back to the leader and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “What are you doing here?” he asked again. “This ain’t your normal area, Manny.”

  The kid stood up, a few inches shorter than Walker. The difference in height didn’t seem to bother him. He faced Walker head on, widening his stance and crossing his arms over his chest, showing his power and authority.

  “Maybe I’m looking for you, vato,” he answered, thrusting his chin toward Walker. “Heard you’ve been seen here.”

  Walker stilled. Little particles of dust swirled around him, catching the light streaming in through the windows.

  I gulped. The room started to feel too warm. Too full of violent energy. A bead of sweat ran along my hairline, threatening to plop down on my nose any second.

  “What do you need me for?” Walker asked.

  The leader smiled, looking smug. “I heard you do things for money. You up anything?”

  Walker shrugged. “If the
money’s right.”

  The kid huffed. “Money is right, vato, believe me.”

  “Then give me the details and I’ll decide if I’m in.”

  The kid handed the beer bottle back to Walker, a sign of agreement. “Oh, you’ll be in when you hear what my man is paying.”

  Walker grabbed the bottle and took another big swig, finishing half of what was left in seconds. The kid watched with amusement until Walker tried to hand it back. Instead of taking the bottle, the leader reached into his rear pocket and pulled something out.

  A little baggie dangled from his hand, swinging midair. Small pills sat inside, looking innocent in the plastic.

  “You sell this, you get a cut. Fifty/fifty. It’s as simple as that,” the leader said, shaking the bag.

  I wanted to yell at Walker, tell him whatever he was about to agree to, it wasn’t worth it. I wanted to say that we could survive together. Just him, Bentley, and me. We didn’t need drugs or alcohol to help us do it. But I knew Walker would never listen to me.

  “I don’t sell,” Walker said.

  “But you buy?” the kid asked, his mouth going hard.

  Walker shook his head. “No. It’s not really my thing.”

  The guy took a few steps forward until he was in Walker’s face. “Well, make it your thing,” he said in a threatening voice.

  When Walker didn’t respond, the leader reached out and stuffed the baggie in his shirt pocket.

  “Fifty/fifty. Easy cash. Just have the money to us in a week,” he said.

  Indecision crossed Walker’s face. I wanted to go to him and yank the drugs out of his pocket. Throw them at Manny. But I didn’t. Somewhere close by, I heard a car door slam. Then another. I glanced up at Walker then at Bentley, wondering if they had heard the same thing.

  If they did, they didn’t show it. Their eyes were glued to the boys, watching for a threat. I reached out to tug on Walker’s sleeve, but Bent stopped me. He shook his head, warning me to keep quiet.

  I glanced at the window again, wishing I could see outside. I had a bad feeling. A really bad feeling.

  “Listen, Manny, I’m not selling,” Walker said, reaching for his pocket. “Take your---”

  Suddenly loud shouts and bluster came from somewhere in the motel, deep voices that echoed down the hallway. Doors slammed open, sounding like cannons going off in the empty building.

  I whipped around, my eyes rounded. Beams of flashlights danced down the hallway, heading our way. My heart entered my throat, choking me. The acid in my stomach rose, threatening to crawl up my into my mouth.

  “COPS!” one of the kids yelled. “Get the hell out of here!”

  Everyone started scattering, leaving their alcohol and drug paraphernalia on the floor as they ran from the room.

  I stood stunned, my gaze glued to the dancing flashlight beams. They were close. So close.

  Bentley grabbed my arm as a few kids flew past us. Dragging me behind him, he started running for a small stairway off the main room, following everyone else. Walker was behind us, the sounds of his boots the only noise I could hear over the blood rushing in my ears.

  I ran as fast as I could up the stairs and into a hallway. Bentley’s hand was tight on my arm, pinching my skin, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to escape.

  I could hear Walker breathing heavily behind me as we ran. Doors rushed past us on either side, most closed. I didn’t know where we were going but I could hear the cops behind us, yelling for us to stop.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” Bentley swore as we ran, his hand still on me. The hallway seemed to go on forever. It was narrow and dark. The heat was stifling, making it difficult to breathe. I started to feel suffocated as the walls pressed in around me. My breaths came faster, my hysteria rising. I felt sweat trickle down my back and into my shirt, made worse by my panic.

  Just when I thought I might scream from feeling trapped, a fracture of light appeared ahead. It came from under a door, just a thin line of sunlight. But it meant that on the other side was a way out. A way to safety. To our freedom.

  The three of us ran toward the door, desperate to escape. Bentley let go of me to try the handle, juggling it hard.

  “Damn, it won’t open,” he said, breathlessly. Sweat poured down his face and soaked his hair. He glanced down the hallway, panic on his face. I could hear the sound of people running behind us but I refused to look. I didn’t want to know how close we were to going to jail.

  Walker glanced around. Something to the right caught his attention. “Here. Come on!” he yelled, grabbing my hand.

  I ran after him, looking over my shoulder for Bentley.

  NO! NO! NO!

  “Bentley!” I shouted when I saw him.

  He was standing still, his arms raised above his head. A flashlight beam was aimed at his face, blinding him. He tried covering his eyes but a man’s deep voice bellowed to keep his hands up.

  “Get her out of here, Walker!” Bentley yelled, squinting against the light and keeping his eyes straight ahead.

  Walker tugged on my hand. “Run!”

  “No, we can’t go!” I cried, trying to pry his hand off me as he pulled me away. I couldn’t leave my brother!

  But Walker didn’t give me a choice. He dragged me along, ignoring my cries. I fought him, tears blurring my vision, but it was a losing battle.

  “We can’t leave him!” I cried, trying to tug my hand from his.

  Walker tightened his hold on me. “He’ll be fine, Ross,” he said, keeping his eyes on our surroundings. “Now be quiet!”

  “But…”

  He pulled me into a room, cutting off my argument. Our feet became tangled as we rushed inside. I didn’t care if I fell and hurt him – he was taking me away from Bentley.

  “They’re gonna take him to jail!” I sobbed, tears welling up faster in my eyes as I watched Walker walk to the door and shut it without making a sound.

  “You wanna go too?” he hissed with anger as he walked past me. “Shut up, Ross.”

  I quieted, realizing the men’s voices were closer. I could hear them, yelling at each other, boots thumping on the worn carpet.

  My gaze darted around nervously. The room we were in wasn’t as dark as the hallway but shadows still made the place creepy. Two twin-sized beds were set at odd angles, stripped bare of their coverings. The mattresses were dirty and stained. Graffiti covered one wall, marking the place as a gang hangout. But it was the used condoms on the floor that made me want to gag.

  Walker ignored it all and grabbed my hand again. I didn’t resist this time as he pulled me toward a big window set into a far wall. Stopping in front of it, he dropped my hand and pushed back the dirty curtains, trying the lock on the window. Nothing happened.

  “Dammit!” he said, glancing around.

  I kept my eyes on the door, waiting and knowing it was only a matter of time before the police found us.

  “Okay. I’m gonna break the window. It’s the only way out. There’s a drop so I’ll go first and catch you. Got it?” Walker asked as he grabbed a broken chair nearby.

  “Yeah,” I answered, shaking with fear.

  It took Walker only a minute to shatter the glass with the chair. I cringed as the noise resounded throughout the room, announcing to everyone where we were hiding. But there was nothing we could do; the window was our only form of escape.

  I watched as Walker crawled through the opening without getting a scratch on him from the broken glass. It made me wonder how many times he had broken into a home or business.

  His feet hit the ground below a second later. He turned and glanced up at me. “Come on,” he whispered, motioning me out.

  I bit my lip, seeing the drop. It wasn’t much but it still frightened me. Taking a deep breath for courage, I put my hands on the windowsill, ready to haul myself over. That’s when the door behind me slammed open. A flashlight beam danced across my body.

  “Hold it right there!” a deep voice shouted.

  I glanced over
my shoulder and saw two police officers standing in the motel room, their guns trained on me. My heart stopped beating. My body went from hot to ice cold. My eyes swung back down to Walker, the prickling of broken glass under my hands forgotten.

  “Cole,” I yelled, pleading for help.

  “Come on!” he shouted, waving me to jump.

  I started to throw a leg over the windowsill, but the police officers behind me started yelling, “Don’t move! Don’t move!”

  Walker glanced behind me, seeing the flashlight beams. With horror, I watched as he took a step back, then another.

  He was leaving me!

  “NO!” I screamed, reaching for him as he turned and ran off. I watched as he disappeared around a corner, never once looking back at me.

  I was alone now. Bentley was in police custody and Walker had left me.

  Left me.

  “No. No. No,” I muttered, tears leaking from my eyes.

  “Hold it right there, young lady.”

  I lowered my hands from the windowsill and turned. Beams of light blinded me, making me squint.

  “Well, if it ain’t Samantha Ross.”

  Chills went up my spine. I shielded my eyes against the light and watched as Pam Man started stalking toward me, a grin on his face.

  “I got this, Anderson. You go get that other kid,” he said to the cop with him, his eyes moving down my body as soon as he stopped in front of me.

  I stepped back, my bottom hitting the windowsill. Glass broke under my flip-flops but I had a much bigger problem than a cut foot.

  Pam Man reached out and touched the collar of my shirt, his fingers rubbing along my skin. I cringed and tried to pull away, but he grabbed a handful of my shirt and hauled me forward.

  “Your mama’s gonna have a fit about this, girl,” he said, glancing down at the bare skin of my stomach, exposed by his hold on my shirt. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes hungry.

  I struggled against him, trying to pry his hands off me, but it was no use. His hold was too tight.

  “Who were you with?” he asked, glancing out the window before looking me up and down. “Your little boyfriend? Giving him some pussy?”