Deep Dark Night

by Steph Broadribb

  Cabressa shrugs. ‘Maybe so. But I wanted to save these bullets.’ He cocks his head to one side. ‘Can’t go giving up my advantage over you now, can I?’

  I frown. ‘You could have died on the bridge, or in the water.’

  He smiles – a sickly sweet grin, fake as sweetener in tea. ‘I’ve learned enough about you to know you wouldn’t let me die.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  His smile widens. ‘Because then you wouldn’t get to try and kill me yourself, Herron.’

  ‘Like I told you, I’m not Herron.’

  ‘Yet here we still are.’

  I push my hair out of my face, and that’s when I realise it’s gone – the micro camera. It must have gotten loose in the river and washed away.

  My heart starts to race. That means Monroe doesn’t have eyes and ears on me for sure. I’m alone now – alone with a gun-toting, murderous mobster. It’s not the first time, but that’s of no comfort right now.

  ‘Come on,’ says Cabressa, gesturing up the bank with the barrel of the Glock. ‘Let’s get to the hotel.’

  I nod, and make like I’m wringing the water out of my dress. Cabressa looks twitchy, moving his weight from foot to foot, and I see that he’s still favouring the left leg over the right, although he’s doing his best to hide the fact.

  There’s things whirring about in my mind. When did the micro camera stop transmitting? What was the last thing Monroe witnessed? And, if Monroe saw us surrounded by the fighting looters – knew that we were in danger – and then watched as I plummeted down from the bridge into the river with Cabressa, why the hell didn’t he send a team to come pull us out?

  Unable to put it off any longer, I start to move. I climb up the concrete steps behind Cabressa, trying not to wince each time my injured feet hit the ground. I can’t afford to show weakness. Not now. Not when I don’t know for sure if Monroe knows where I am and where we’re going.

  There are four blocks to my hotel, and I have to be prepared for the fact that Monroe might not know what’s happening; the micro camera could have stopped transmitting at any point after my call with him back at the moment of the blackout. If that’s the case, I’ve gotten the time it takes for us to travel four blocks to think on a plan.

  Of one thing I’m real sure – there’s no way I’m going to give Cabressa the last chess piece and let him kill me.

  61

  It takes them another ten minutes to reach the ground. By the time they do, JT’s thigh muscles are cramping and Carmella is struggling to breathe. The lack of oxygen is still affecting her, JT notices. He looks at her, concerned. If she’s coming with him to find Lori and Cabressa he hopes she’ll be able to keep up.

  Carmella sees him looking. ‘It’s my asthma, okay? Just give me a minute. I don’t have my inhaler.’

  JT nods. Scans their surroundings through the darkness but doesn’t recognise the area. Tall buildings loom over them, ghostly without light. From what he’s seen he figures they’ve come down around back. He needs to get to the front entrance of the Skyland Tower to get his bearings and work out the fastest way to the hotel where Lori and him have been staying. He glances back at Carmella. She’s doubled over with her hands on her knees. Her long black hair is hanging over her face, obscuring her expression.

  In the distance he hears the wail of cop car sirens. He can’t wait any longer.

  ‘Come on,’ he says to Carmella. ‘We need to go.’

  Straightening up, she follows him around the building towards the front. He stays alert, keeps scouring their surroundings for threats as they head down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

  Carmella halts. Sniffs the air. ‘What’s that?’

  There’s a burning smell, like rubber and gasoline. Next moment there’s a crash and the sound of glass shattering. It’s not real close, but close enough. JT grimaces. ‘Looters.’

  ‘But the smell, it’s like…’ Wide-eyed and shaky, her previous cool is gone. Carmella doesn’t need to finish the sentence for JT to understand.

  He guesses what it reminds her of – the most traumatic thing in her life, and the discovery that kick-started the chain of events that led to this moment; her papa being burned alive. ‘We need to keep moving. Are you able to do that?’

  Carmella nods. JT hopes she’s right.

  They move through the streets towards the river. Stick close to the buildings. Stay deep in the shadows.

  Windows have been smashed. Vehicles battered and set alight. Couches have been pulled from buildings and destroyed. Debris is scattered over the blacktop. Up ahead looters run from building to building. Some carry flaming torches, others have armfuls of stolen items.

  ‘Jeez,’ says JT. ‘We have to get away from here.’

  Carmella doesn’t speak. She stands stock-still. Wide-eyed. Non-responsive.

  ‘Come on,’ JT says, his tone urgent. Grabbing Carmella’s hand, he pulls her into a run. Forces her to keep moving. Can’t afford to hang around.

  They keep running until they reach the river.

  Then they have to stop because of the flames.

  62

  We travel the four blocks in silence. The streets are deserted this side of the river, but they bear the scars of the angry crowds that have passed through them – vehicles lie upturned and burning, stores with shattered windows sit ransacked, their goods strewn across the sidewalks and streets. Debris and glass crunches beneath Cabressa’s shoes as we walk. A little ways behind him, I pick my way through it, trying not to injure my bare feet more. The pain is getting worse, but I keep on going. Heading back towards my and JT’s hotel.

  JT. My heart lurches as I think of him – of how I had to stay with Cabressa to save Otis, even though it was futile in the end. JT’s expression as I stepped away from the door and he realised I wasn’t going with him – like I’d betrayed him – it makes me shudder. I wonder where he is now, if he’s safe and clear of the penthouse. Can’t think on the alternative. Have to believe he’ll be okay. Have to believe we’ll be reunited soon.

  My fear for JT’s safety fires my hatred for Cabressa. Cabressa and Monroe. Two men who’ve used me in their game like one of the gold pawns in the chess set – a disposable player in the game.

  A few blocks ahead I see a cop car speed across the intersection, blue light flashing but siren turned off. There’s no other traffic on the streets. No people. The post-apocalyptic feeling is back. The quiet seems eerie and unnatural.

  ‘We nearly there?’ growls Cabressa, his voice loud in the silence.

  ‘The hotel’s another block away,’ I say. I keep my voice low. Don’t want to attract attention if there are people around here, lurking in the darkness.

  ‘You kept them in your hotel room? Jesus!’ Cabressa shakes his head as he keeps trudging along the sidewalk. ‘I thought our intelligence was complete. Guess I should have had you watched.’

  I don’t reply. We’re both exhausted, but he’s the one with the gun – the advantage. I need to think on a way to get the upper hand. I could escape, sure, but that isn’t enough. I need to have Cabressa taken into custody. He cannot be allowed to get away with the things he’s done tonight – all the people he’s killed.

  As I walk, I think. My Taser is back in the Skyland Tower – confiscated by Carmella’s security when I entered the penthouse and then taken down to the floor below for safekeeping. JT’s weapon is there too. Lost to me, at least for now. I think on what else I brought with me. Remember the pepper spray I always keep in my purse, and the plasticuffs too. It’s not much, but it’s something more than nothing. If I can get to the pepper spray, use it on Cabressa, it could give me enough time to snatch the gun.

  We reach the end of the block. As we turn the corner I see the hotel looming up ahead. Like the other buildings around us, it’s shrouded in darkness. The fountains out front are silent; the water lying still like a dark pool. I point towards the entrance to the foyer. ‘This is it,’ I say.

  Cabressa nods. ‘Good.’r />
  As we move closer I see faint glows from some of the windows. It’s people using flashlights and candles I’m guessing. I glance at Cabressa. The fact I know there are people in the hotel is no kind of comfort – if he fires the gun a stray bullet could injure someone. I cannot allow that to happen.

  Stepping to the entrance I take hold of the door and pull. It doesn’t open. Stays wedged shut. I scan the entrance. See the door release and press it. Nothing happens. ‘It needs power.’

  ‘Goddammit.’ Cabressa pushes past me and grabs the door handle. He grunts as he yanks it hard, forcing the heavy door open. He steps through and then looks back at me. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  This is it, the moment of reckoning. I take one last look at the desolate street – searching for help that I now know isn’t coming – then look up at the sky. My watch stopped working after we hit the river, but we must still be hours from dawn. There’s no moon, no stars – nothing and no one to bear witness to the events of this deep dark night.

  No one, except me.

  63

  The bridge is on fire. Flames leap and crackle into the air. Their orange, red and gold colours reflect in the water below, like two fires instead of one.

  ‘Jeez.’ JT clenches his jaw. Wonders how the hell he’s going to get to Lori.

  Beside him, Carmella stares at the flaming barricade on the bridge. She’s shaking her head. Her lower lip quivers. ‘This is all my fault. I only thought about revenge on the men in the penthouse. I didn’t imagine what would happen on the streets after the blackout.’

  JT agrees; it is her fault, but there’s no sense in having that conversation here and now. ‘We need another way across. We can’t continue along the main street or we’ll get caught up in that crowd.’ He steps to the edge of the sidewalk, bordering the river, and scans along the water to his right and left. Every bridge has been lit up. ‘And there’s no way across from here anyways.’ He clenches his fists. Doesn’t want to admit defeat, but he’s got nothing. Turns to Carmella. ‘With all the bridges out, how the hell can we get to the other hotel?’

  Carmella thinks for a moment, then turns back towards the direction they’ve just come. ‘I know a way that might work. Follow me.’

  They run through the streets, zig-zagging through the blocks, with Carmella in the lead. When they see groups of people up ahead, they divert. When they pass flaming debris and vehicles, Carmella turns her head away.

  They keep running.

  Minutes pass.

  To JT it seems as if they’re moving away from the river.

  It’s another few minutes before Carmella stops. Bending over, coughing, she struggles to catch her breath. When she straightens up, wheezing, she looks real pale.

  JT looks around at their surroundings. They’re on the corner of some block; he can’t read the street names because of the lack of light.

  ‘Does your cell still have juice?’ Carmella asks.

  JT pulls the phone from his pocket and checks the screen. ‘Juice but no service.’

  Carmella smiles. ‘We won’t need service where we’re going – just light.’

  He doesn’t know what she means. Frowns. ‘Okay.’

  ‘This way,’ says Carmella, heading around the corner.

  JT follows. A few steps onto the next street Carmella points towards a building a little ways ahead, and he gets what she’s planning.

  He smiles at her. Nods. ‘Good call.’

  ‘The tunnels go under the river. With the power off, we should be able to run through them.’

  It’s a smart play. He hopes, unlike the bridges, the tunnels have been unscathed by the looting mobs.

  Carmella pushes open the door and leads him across the foyer. She turns, and announces through the gloom, ‘Welcome to the L.’

  JT switches on the flashlight app of his phone, illuminating the subway station’s foyer. It’s deserted now. Only discarded food wrappers and newspapers, and the sickly-sweet smell of fresh sweat indicate that there’ve been people here recently. He spots the ticket machines over on the wall, turnstiles up ahead and beyond them the stairs that lead down towards the platforms.

  There’s no sign of fire. No sign of trouble.

  Hurrying across the foyer to the stiles, JT grabs the barrier with one hand and vaults over. Turning back towards Carmella, he gestures for her to do the same.

  Together they run down the stairs and towards the subway tunnels.

  64

  I can hear them in the darkness, the people in the rooms along this hallway. Hear their hushed voices from behind the closed doors. See the soft glow under some of the doors. The people here are hiding out until the blackout is over or the sunlight returns. I wish I was one of them, but I don’t have that luxury. What I have is Cabressa breathing down my neck, and the barrel of his gun in my back.

  We take the stairs to the fifth floor. My thigh muscles burn from the climb. Every step sends vibrations through my body, making the pain in my ribs worse. Cabressa’s limp is more pronounced, but aside from that he’s in good shape. Better shape than me, anyways.

  We hustle along the hallway. After the fanciness of the Skyland Tower, this hotel seems plain and basic. Bland cream walls and beige-carpeted halls, no art or mirrors, no lighting either, aside from a green-tinged emergency lamp recessed into the wall at the end of each hallway.

  It seems quieter up here, and for that I’m thankful. If I’m right, and Cabressa means to kill me once he has the final chess piece, he won’t want any witnesses. I hope to hell the guests on this floor stay in their rooms. Don’t want him to have any excuse to kill again.

  He prods me with the gun. ‘Move it.’

  I hadn’t realised I’d slowed my pace, but I guess I had. Subconsciously trying to delay us reaching the room. I lengthen my stride. Move a little faster. We reach the end of this hallway and turn into the next. I can see my and JT’s room a little ways ahead. There’s no sign of Monroe. No sign of the SWAT team.

  My stomach flips. I’m alone. And I’m running out of time.

  I stop outside the room. Removing my water-sodden phone from my bra, I take the hotel room keycard from the pouch on the back and hold it against the sensor. I know it’s pointless with the blackout, but I’m trying to buy some time. As predicted, nothing happens.

  Cabressa frowns. ‘You got the right room? You trying to fool me.’

  ‘There’s no power, that’s why it isn’t working.’

  He prods the gun harder into my ribs. ‘Get us in.’

  I bite back a gasp. Won’t let him see the pain he’s so casually inflicting on me. ‘I’m doing my best.’

  I try the handle and the door opens. Weird. It was locked when me and JT left earlier. The power outage must have caused all the doors to unlock. I think of the looters who’d clashed on the bridge, and of the smashed storefronts and stolen goods, and hope none of them realised hotel rooms were easy targets too.

  Pushing the door open, I lead Cabressa into the room.

  ‘Where is it?’ he growls.

  I don’t answer. The room is just as JT and me left it. My go-bag on the floor by my side of the king bed, his on the armchair in the corner. The table we used to practise poker, the deck of cards sitting on the corner, the stacks of coloured chips lined up like soldiers alongside them. There’s still the faint tang of JT’s cologne in the air – a zesty lemon freshness mixed with a hint of his smokes.

  It makes me think of the moment I left him in the penthouse.

  My breath catches in the back of my throat. I feel emotion start to build inside me, and I push it away. JT is savvy and skilled and I cannot think on the possibility of him not making it. I have to believe that he’s fine. And if I want to survive this, I have to keep my head in the game.

  I glance across at the central air vent in the corner of the room. There’s no sign of the knight through the slats of the vent – no light to reflect against its gold body – but still I fancy that I can see it.

  �
��Where is it then?’ repeats Cabressa. ‘You said you left it in here.’

  ‘I did,’ I say.

  I walk across the room. Pick up the chair, just as I did before, and position it under the vent. Taking a screwdriver from my go-bag I climb onto the chair and undo each of the screws that hold the grill in place.

  As the final screw comes loose, and I prepare to lift the grill away from the wall, Cabressa moves closer to me. I glance down at him.

  He pokes the gun into my calf. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  I don’t answer. I know he’s most likely going to kill me once he’s got the knight. If I’m going to act, it has to be now. And I sure as hell am going to act.

  As I slowly remove the grill, I rehearse my next moves in my mind: step down from the chair; step clear of the chair, in front of Cabressa with his back to the wall; make like I’m handing him the knight, and as his focus shifts to taking it from me, punch him in the gut and grab the gun.

  I drop the grill onto the floor. Take the knight out of the vent.

  ‘Set it down on the table,’ says Cabressa.

  I look down at him. This isn’t part of the plan. ‘What?’

  He’s moving away from the chair, from me. Backing across the room. He gestures towards the table with the gun. ‘Put it on there, then stand by the wall.’

  Damn. He’s out of range. If I make a move now he’ll shoot me before I reach him. By my calculation he’s gotten two bullets left. At this range he’ll only need one.