by M. L. Giles
Gloria grabbed a hold of my hands, shaking them vigorously. “Thank you! Thank you! You’re the best brother ever!”
“Just one problem, I’m not sure I can get into Daniel’s place. I’ve never broken into a house before; people, pets, security, neighbours… A lot to think about.” My favourite genre of movies was anything with heists in, so I was pretty wise to such things.
“If there is one thing I know about you, Grayson,” she said, smiling the smile of an angel having a bad makeup day, “it’s that you always find a way.”
She was right, I did find a way.
It took days of careful watching, waiting, planning… but I got into Daniel’s house to take back those earrings, along with a few extras for myself. And you know what? It might have started out as helping my sister, but I ended up enjoying it, big time. The act of breaking and entering gave me a rush ten times stronger than anything else I’d ever done before.
To celebrate, Gloria convinced mother to let me get my ear pierced with one of our grandmother’s sapphire earrings. It has been with me ever since, serving as my own memento for the only person I ever cared about.
My sister never realized the spark she ignited in me that day. From then on, I practiced sneaking around in our home by making a game of hiding away from my parents and sister. Soon after, I was finding all sorts of ways into the back gardens and houses in our neighbourhood.
The more I did, the easier it got. When it got too easy, I’d start coming up with my own challenges until, eventually, it all became one big game.
Good times… Good times.
“I always find a way, huh?” Those words became reinforced in my mind. Just like how I didn’t want to let Gloria down back then, I felt the same way now about Colton.
Revitalized by my sister’s words, I came up with a plan to get into the building by using the only entry point that seemed viable.
I pulled up the hood on my jacket, slipped on my leather gloves, then started to gather what I needed in order to use one my favourite tools in a thief’s arsenal: distraction.
Luck was on my side. In the time it took me to check out the entrance to the hospital, and the small break I took to gather myself, the guard count at the rear of the hospital had gone down from five to three. Two women walked around the edges of the car park looking utterly bored, one of them randomly shining their flashlight into the darkness to appear busy. The final guard, Mr Shirtless, sat cross-legged on the pavement in front of the open fire door.
That door was my only way in.
I made my way along the rear wall of the hospital itself, keeping crouched under the windows. Thanks to the direction of the moonlight, there was much less light here compared to the front, allowing me to stay comfortably in the shadows.
When I reached a small jut of wall sticking out that served as the alcove for the fire door, I pressed my back against it carefully. Mr Shirtless was just behind me, so close I could hear him give slight yawn.
One cough, one misplaced footstep, one louder than average breath or deep gulp from me was all it would take to be noticed at this point.
My heart was racing, palms sweaty under the gloves. I was terrified and excited all at the same time. Like a tight-rope walker stepping out with no safety net below, I knew how dangerous this was, but that just added to the ever-addictive adrenaline.
“Here we go.” I tried to think calmly and stick to the risky plan I had made.
In my hands were three rocks; my tools of distraction.
Taking the upmost care in my movement, I threw a single rock ahead of me, aiming for a ticket machine. It missed, landing on a small mound of dirt instead.
I repeated the process, this time scoring a direct hit on the metal box. The noise of a stone lightly tapping against metal piqued the curiosity of Mr Shirtless, enough to get his butt off the floor and go investigate. He walked right past me without noticing my body pushing hard against the alcove wall.
This was the opening I was looking for!
With Mr Shirtless busy examining the ticket machine, I stepped away from the wall and literally tiptoed my way into the small alcove, squeezing through the half-open fire door without touching it (old hinges tend to be noisy).
“That was easier than—ˮ My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I spotted another guard, dressed in orange and with a long, shaggy beard, sitting in a chair before me.
My body seized up, almost causing me to drop the third stone from my hand. However, when I saw he was leaning with his shoulder against the wall, eyes closed and gently snoring away, my mind gave a nervous sigh of relief.
There wasn’t any time to analyse my surroundings or decide on the best route, what with Mr Shirtless possibly coming back at any moment. It was now or never.
I rushed past the sleeper and, to my right, spotted a set of stairs leading to the upper floors. Knowing the office was on the second floor, I ran up those stairs two steps at a time. My moves were all silent, except for the rubber soles of my shoes occasionally squeaking on the non-carpeted stairs. It wasn’t loud enough to wake a person, but it could’ve been loud enough to alert anyone close by.
Once at the top of the first flight of stairs, I took a moment to cool off. When you’re excited or nervous (both, in my case), it can mess with your judgement, causing all kinds of mistakes. I needed to calm down from taking such an insane risk.
My heart rate slowed somewhat with controlled breathing.
I took a quick look around. It was too dark to see anything in particular. Only the floor below me had any light, coming from a metal dish with a fire burning away in it next to the shaggy-bearded guard.
My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, letting me see my surroundings better. Beside me was a door with the words “1st Floor” written above it. Another set of stairs leading up to the second floor were opposite the door.
Now that I was calmer, I knew that I couldn’t continue with squeaky trainers. Reluctantly, I removed them, leaving them in a corner. My socks were dark blue and not noticeable in the dark; shame I couldn’t say the same about my toe sticking out of a hole in the left sock.
In my experience, sound is a much bigger give away than sight. A bit of flesh on show was nothing compared to the squeakiness of rubber soles on a floor with no carpets.
I hoisted myself off the ground to look through a small glass opening in the first floor door. Inside was a long hallway with a few people standing around. Flashlights were in the hands of some, flame-lit torches in others. They were all talking away, unaware of me watching them.
I prayed the floor above would be quieter as I set off up the next set of stairs. When I was about halfway up, I heard Mr Shirtless return and wake up the sleeping guard.
“Balls! Didn’t think of a way out,” I thought. “Hmmm, I’ll just wing it. It’s what I’m best at anyway.”
I’d reached the second floor without making any noise. Just like the first floor door, this one had a rectangular glass opening in it that I could look through.
On this occasion, my prayers had been answered. The hallway was darker than the one below, with only faint traces of light shining out from two doors. No people were around either.
Taking the greatest of care, I opened the door slowly. It made a light creaking noise just before it was open enough for me to slip through.
I was in.
The first doorway I came to was open. When I peered in, I saw it was occupied by people sleeping in rows of hospital beds. One person was awake, reading an old magazine with a flashlight. Another guy, on the other side of the room, was having a joyous time with his hands down his pants.
I moved on to the next open doorway. Inside was the same situation as before. People on beds, mostly sleeping. Three of them, a man and two women, were all sitting on chairs in the centre of the room whispering to each other.
“Kind of glad I waited before coming inside. This place would’ve been pretty busy earlier on,” I thought before moving on.
; Even though the hospital buildings were divided in two, they were both pretty big. I crept through the shadows for an hour looking for Doctor Withersons’ office. While in the car with Colton earlier, he had told me to follow certain signs in the hospital to reach the office quickly. His advice was useless, given that all the signs in here were either gone, blackened by smoke, or painted over.
Some of the larger rooms were occupied by the groups of people sleeping. Other smaller rooms looked empty or decorated with graffiti. One particular wall, located in a large room filled with rows of chairs, took my interest. A painting on a wall showed a blond-haired man, dressed in an orange and gold robe, throwing a ball of fire at a group of people carrying the head of a man. The picture was so detailed, almost like it was showing a specific event. This depiction of the blond-haired man came up a few more times as I traversed around in the dark halls.
“Yeah, this isn’t creepy in the slightest!” I thought.
The more I searched around, the more disturbed I became. The entire place had a cult feeling to it. Each person I saw had their hair shaved short, and golden fire was painted on a large number of walls.
Yet despite the creepy cult feel, I wasn’t seeing why I had been warned about how dangerous these people were. I was expecting to see people chained to the walls or burnt piles of bodies stacked in corners of the rooms. Instead, all I saw were survivors dressing in unified colours.
These people gave off more of a militaristic gang vibe; shaved heads and colour coordinated uniforms, equipped with weapons while on patrol, yet still able to chill out in their barracks for an evening.
Even so, I had no intention of saying hello to anyone or asking nicely for directions; not after seeing them stab that man at the park only a few days ago.
Hallway after hallway, room after room, door after door, I examined them all. Sometimes there was nothing more than an empty, abandoned room. Other times there were beds with more people sleeping or socializing.
“Here we are! Ominous corridor number three-hundred thousand…” I told myself jokes to keep my spirits high.
All the closed doors in this hallway I ended up in were on the right. The only source of light came from the moon shining through the windows on the left. Carefully, I examined the label on each door until, finally, I saw the name ‘Hugo Witherson’.
Without thinking, I opened the door, raced inside, and closed it behind me. My excitement had got the better of me, causing me to rush in without examining the place first. Apart from tripping over a random cable on the floor, it was sheer luck that the doctor’s office was empty of people.
With the slim torch I’d “borrowed” from the car’s glove box in hand, I examined the room. It was just a regular doctor’s office, almost too regular. This room was free of graffiti and seemed to be clean. Unused, but still tidy.
Remembering Tyrone’s words, I immediately approached a desk to look for the brown envelope. All I found sitting on there was a pot with writing equipment in, a half-filled bowl of nasty looking hard candy, and a computer monitor.
“No… No-no-no-no-no!” I whispered while searching every drawer, every cabinet, every corner, every nook and cranny in that room.
There were papers, documents, medical equipment, even a pack of A4 brown envelopes, but not what I was looking for.
“Looking for something in there, are we?” A soft and gentle man’s voice came from behind the closed door. “Would you mind stepping out here?”
I had been busted.
It was the worst possible outcome; caught breaking into a guarded building, with no weapons of my own, trapped alone in a room with no windows and only one door.
“Come now, you really should just give yourself up.” The angelic voice spoke once again. “I know what you are searching for. It is not in there anymore.”
“Colton…” I thought. “I should’ve listened to you. I’m sorry.”
There was no point in fighting against what seemed inevitable. My memory went back, replaying the moment one of the yellow men had repeatedly stabbed that man at the park.
That was going to be my fate, I just knew it.
All my life I had pushed myself for bigger adventures, defying my own limits, becoming overconfident! Sometimes it was hard to remember that getting caught in the past would only mean being handed over to the police. In the thrill of it all, I forgot that this was a new world, one where the law doesn’t apply – one where these people were free to enact any punishment they saw fit upon an intruder.
The door handle started turning.
“WAIT!” I called out, causing whoever was turning the handle to stop. “…I’ll come out.”
Accepting what was about to happen seemed to help in some strange way. My heart stopped beating so fast, my muscles relaxed, fuck, I even felt more confident. In my last few moments, comfort came in the thought of possibly being reunited with my sister.
I took a deep breath, maybe the deepest I had ever taken in my life, opened the door, and stepped out into the dark hallway.
A serrated knife, duct-taped to a wooden pole, came straight for my throat.
My eyes closed. All I could think about was Gloria, and the man who had brought me some happiness by placing his trust in me – Colton.
In that moment, I’d have given anything to be able to say sorry to him for my failure.
Chapter 8
Aiden.
Angel of Fire.
I waited for the pain to hit, but when nothing happened I opened my eyes one at a time. The knife on the stick that had been heading for my throat now only hovered inches from it.
“Scared? Don’t be.” The man in the middle had the most soothing of voices. “Ivy? Some light, please.”
One of the people beside the well-spoken man fumbled around in the darkness. I could hear the sound of something metal clanking away. They used a lighter to ignite an old, hand-held oil lamp, holding it up high to illuminate all of us.
Three people stood before me, two men and one women.
A shaven-headed man, wearing a dirty and sleeveless orange jacket, hovered the serrated bread knife against my throat. He looked middle-aged, but that was hard to tell since his face was covered in black soot.
The female of the three was of ebony skin, also with a shaved head. In the light of a single lamp, it was initially hard to see if she was male or female. The only giveaway was the curvy shape of her body behind a torn red dress that slowly became more visible as the lamp got brighter.
That just left the man standing between the two of them and, oh boy, was he a spectacle.
Long, platinum blond hair flowed down over his perfectly smooth face. Deep green eyes that felt like they were penetrating my soul. Pristine skin that glistened in the lamp’s glow, making his face look almost divine.
He was naturally beautiful, certainly the type of guy I’d have slept with. If you were a believer in angels and this guy appeared with a bright light behind him, you’d have thought he was one.
Then I saw what he was wearing… If I didn’t have a blade to my throat, I would’ve pissed myself with laughter.
A bright red bathrobe, of all things! It was tied around the waist by a golden cord, the kind you would tie fancy curtains back with. The bathrobe’s trim had been decorated by having bright orange strips shoddily sewn to it. Multiple chains of gold hung around his neck, all varying in size, while each of his fingers had at least two rings on, thumbs included.
I’m guessing he wanted to look as regal as possible yet failed spectacularly in my eyes.
“Oh? An unfamiliar face, not quite what I was expecting. Might I presume you are from Colton’s group?” he asked me.
“Um… Yeah.” Under normal circumstances, revealing the identity of your employer was always a bad idea. However, when your life is on the line, it’s best to limit the lies – especially when they already seem to know such details. “And… er, you must be Aiden?”
He bowed his head graciously in greeting. “That I a
m. Now, how about you reveal your face to me. A name too, if you would be so kind.”
I complied with his first request by sliding back my hood to show my face. As for my real name, he wasn’t getting that.
“Matthew Horner,” I lied.
“A pleasure, Matthew,” he nodded once again. “You are here for the documents of Hugo, correct?”
“Why haven’t you killed me?” I asked bluntly. It was the only question on my mind at that moment.
Aiden chuckled at my question before answering it. “Because you have done nothing wrong, yet.”
“Apart from breaking into your lovely abode, you mean?”
“Your coming was not unexpected. Colton has sent others here before yourself, but none of them got inside the building. He was always obsessed with discovering what happened a year ago; forever insisting that poor old Hugo should keep doing all manner of tests. A long time ago, he tried sending a few people here to try their luck at getting the fruits of Hugo’s labour.”
“What happened to them?”
“To the others who came before you? One died.” He tutted sadly. “Killed at the door by my men. Done in self-defence, I assure you. The other three were a group. The first was uncooperative. Ivy, what happened with the other two individuals?”
The lady stepped forward, oil lamp still in hand. “They both joined us willingly.”
Aiden held up his palm, indicating towards Ivy. “You see, Matthew? All are given a chance here, if they are willing to bear arms for me.”
Be it cowardice or my survival instincts kicking in (the latter, definitely the latter), I saw an opportunity here. If I could talk my way out of being killed, I could get out of this place alive. All I needed to do was a bit of quality acting.
“Please don’t hurt me, Aiden!” I pleaded in my most innocent voice. “Colton said he would kill my friends if I didn’t help him! We were captured by him!”