Sunlight 24

by Merritt Graves

  I saw Martin’s hand shoot to his ear and his mask fall to the floor. He was shaking and arching his back as if a large insect had crawled inside, but retracted it almost as quickly when Jaden’s eyes fell upon him.

  “It’s the sound of reckoning,” Jaden said as he walked up to an agonized Martin, who was doing everything he could to maintain his composure. “Give it to me.”

  Martins’ hands hovered at his sides, twisting in a cast of composure. His legs looked wooden. Sweat beads formed and fell from his temples. The unmasked part of his face was turning the same pale shade as the statue of Hermes behind him, but with none of the grace, and I knew if I could hear the squeal from twenty paces across the room it had to be a deafening, harrowing howl in his unrelinquished bug, only a millimeter from his eardrum.

  More seconds passed and I sensed him sizing up the situation and pondering an escape but, even as strong and fast as he was, he was unarmed and I couldn’t envision how he’d manage.

  “I’m not going to ask you again,” Jaden snapped, tapping his gun against an alabaster vase.

  Finally, Martin yanked the bug from his ear and tossed it across the room like an ember. Jaden strode forward and grasped Martin’s now empty hand, leering as he seemed to inject him with something syringe-like attached to his index finger. Martin recoiled as if bitten by a snake, then crumpled to the ground.

  “Now, who’s next?”

  One of the robbers pointed to the source of the sound, a girl huddled in the corner, and Jaden walked nonchalantly over. “I wouldn’t have suspected you, but that’s what makes this all worth it. Hold out your hand.”

  She shook her head back and forth, her hands clasped to her ears, her gaze fastened on the syringe attached to Jaden’s finger. It was ominous looking, carrying a red fluid that ran—in a tube—up along his palm and wrist before disappearing under his shirt.

  Why was he doing this? He could’ve just gone upstairs and cleaned out all the drawers without anyone knowing a thing. But instead it was like he was more concerned about playing this over-the-top character he’d invented for himself. Drawing things out. Savoring the moments. While at the same time taking the biggest, most reckless swing he possibly could.

  “Your friend’s being dramatic,” said Jaden, gesturing to Martin, whose mouth had begun frothing with something that looked like sea foam.

  A guest sprinted forward from the left. My brother had his back turned and for a moment it looked as though the boy might be able to tackle him, but then a cord of light streamed down from the balcony and sent him sprawling sideways. His body seemed to hang in the air a moment before it convulsed, seizure-like as it hit the ground.

  “Anyone else? This will be your best and final chance to play hero.”

  Jaden tucked his handgun back into his belt. “Anyone? Going . . . going . . . gone.”

  And with that, he turned back to the girl. In one hair-trigger movement, he snatched her arm and injected her with whatever was in the tube.

  “Now you five right there, walk slowly to that wall and line up, three feet apart. Yes, that means you, too, dear. Everyone else lies face down on the ground with their eyes shut. I’ll let you guess what happens if you open them.” He strolled over to where the would-be rescuer was still writhing on the floor. “Though I’m afraid you don’t get off so lightly,” he said softly, as he bent down and injected his finger-syringe into the boy’s knee.

  More nausea hit me in waves. The kid screamed and gagged. Other guests were screaming, too, staring at him. Some turned toward me, the only person in the room without a mask.

  I’m not the one who’s doing this! I wanted to shout, unable to meet their gaze, knowing they were associating me with the violence since I wasn’t being made to lie down or give up my bug and film.

  It struck me then that that was what Jaden wanted; in all of this chaos, maybe Ethan and I would be the only ones the hostages could positively ID. Maybe this would help them pin all the other robberies on us, too. Or at least create doubt. Though, I didn’t really know what I knew anymore—just that I needed air. Just that I needed to get out of this room.

  Jaden motioned to one of his associates, who went over and began frisking the five hostages lined up on the wall. When he was finished, he bound their limbs with white adhesive tape.

  “Keep those peepers closed, ladies and gents.”

  One of the intruders who’d moved to the westerly side upon entering, emerged on the balcony amidst another group of wrangled party-goers. Christopher was among them.

  His eyes locked on mine, but I looked away in a swoon of panic as it came back to me that Chris had already called the police and that I was going to be trapped in here. The realization made the ballroom collapse, the chandelier lights approaching, intensifying as they fell, until they seemed like the overhead lamps in an operating room. I closed my eyes and then opened them again, trying to stay calm, but knowing I had to do something fast. Perhaps I could slip away, swing around to the other staircase, and surprise the intruder closest to Ethan. I started inching toward the door, but it was such an imposing distance, especially given the light, cavorting steps of my brother who remained on the balls of his feet, every second threatening to spin.

  I looked back at Chris; his eyes still burning into me as they cocooned him in packing tape. Did he think that I was doing this? That I had wanted to let them in? As I was trying to figure out a way of explaining it all, another of the masked intruders ran into the ballroom and shouted, “The cops are here! There’re already two cars out in front and Slim sees more coming!”

  Jaden had been bent over, applying tape to a young, mustached male as carefully and deliberately as if he were packing fine art. His back arched slightly at the announcement, but then he relaxed again and I heard him say, calmly, “Stripes knows what to do.”

  “We’ve gotta run!”

  “Run?” asked Jaden.

  “Yes, they’re here! They’re here—you don’t understand!”

  I felt woozy. My limbs wouldn’t move. The lights got even brighter and harsher and the walls got closer and lower and all the struggling, stricken half-wrapped bodies transformed the room into a ziggurat that crackled in the candlelight.

  “You don’t think we’re going to leave without the loot, do you?” Jaden gestured expansively at the crowd of partygoers. “They’re what’s going to save you.”

  He patted his accomplice on the back, then walked over to the bay windows and drew back a couple inches of curtain, speaking into his bug. “Slim, it looks like this is your big chance.”

  I inched a few steps closer so I could better hear. His voice still had that soft, liquid quality to it, though it was hardening.

  “I want you to take off your backpack . . . yep, take it off and look inside.” He waited for a second. “Do you know how to put one together?”

  Jaden stopped a little longer to listen.

  “Don’t worry; I’ll guide you right through it.” He alternated glances between the balcony and the window. “Of course, we’ll be at it, too, but with your angle, you’re going to be the real hero.”

  I took another step closer.

  “You see that curved part, with the little grooves running up it? That’s the magazine—you fit it into the underside of the barrel. It’ll snap in nice and easy. Got it? Good. Now pick up that black, triangular-shaped thing, and clip that into the back of the barrel. Uh huh, yeah. You’re right, that’s the stock—and attaching it’s trickier since you gotta make sure those small silver pieces line up just right. Bring your eye even so you can tell how they slide together. It might take a couple tries, but you’ll get it.”

  Sirens erupted somewhere not so far off.

  “I know, I hear them, too. But if you’re scared, just tell your adrenal glands to dial back the juice,” said Jaden, his words calm again, like morphine dripping. “Then take a deep breath. The hardest part’s already done. And the rounds are already in the magazine. All you need to do is grip the handle
with your right hand, fit the stock against your right shoulder, and place your left hand around the barrel. Easy? Easy.”

  My heart rate quickened.

  “Now go to the northernmost side, facing the street.” He shook his head. “They won’t see you if you move in a scorpion crawl. You’ve practiced this.”

  Practiced this. Of course they had.

  “Next’s the easiest part yet.”

  I was at the adjacent window now and I used two fingers to pull back the curtain ever so slightly. There were three squad cars out front and a fourth one was just pulling up. I saw a figure slowly rise on the rooftop from across the street.

  “Are all the packages wrapped?”

  “Almost.”

  “Skills, you finish while the rest of you go up and start quietly opening the windows.”

  There was a flurry of footsteps behind me.

  “These are some kind of front row tickets, aren’t they?” It took me a moment to realize that Jaden was talking to me instead of his accomplice on the other end of the bug. “But they come with strings.”

  I stared at his mask.

  “I’ll be willing to overlook your previous indiscretions, as per my deal with Ethan, but only if you do exactly what I tell you.”

  The question didn’t make any sense; why would he still need me? And deal. What deal? I looked out the window and back at him, mystified. “I don’t understand . . . the cops are here and—”

  “I need a yes or no.”

  “For what? I, I . . .”

  “This is your only way out. I promise.”

  “I, I . . . guess,” I whispered, not knowing if I meant it.

  “Good choice. Because I’ve got one hell of a closing act planned,” he said, snickering as he stepped away.

  “No, no, you can do this. Remember all the times you already have?” Jaden said, resuming the conversation with his man on the roof. “And when you think about it, the AIs are actually nicer; they don’t take four months to follow up on a stolen property report. They don’t cheat. They don’t use dirty tricks to try to rattle you and make you admit things. When’s the last time you can honestly say you’ve had a pleasant interaction with one of these apes? That’s right. Given you just had your birthday, they’re here to put you away for thirty years all because you decided that you’re worthy of having the same chance that every person in this room has had handed to them. Let that sink in.”

  I felt like I’d swallowed chalk.

  “Families? Families? We all have families. Your mom’s going to cry and cry. Your sister’ll flip. You’re the one holding them together. This is bigger than you. This is bigger than all of us. It’s not just your right, but your duty to pull the trigger. The real bad guys are these monsters trying to leave us behind.”

  He waited again. I knew I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. I needed to rush him. He was close enough that I just might be able to close the gap before he could turn. But still, even knowing perfectly what was required—and that I’d hate myself forever if I didn’t do it—I hesitated as a fifth cruiser pulled up. Most of the cops were taking positions behind their cars, while one or two looked like they were getting ready to walk up to the house. Jaden was reaching down to unlatch the window in front of him, and I thought about doing the same with mine and warning them, but I still couldn’t banish the insidious thought that if I waited, if I did nothing, then maybe in another minute or two all the police might be gone, and I could melt away in the confusion. I’d be rid of the black mass I’d started carrying that was cutting off my air supply, following me everywhere. I tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept coming back, amorphous and plasmatic; vented from somewhere impossibly deep inside.

  “This is your chance to save the day, Slim. To prove to all those fucks out there who thought you were a joke just how serious you are. Nothing’s more serious than a gun. Nothing. And no one’s gonna be laughing when this is over, I can guarantee you . . .”

  “We have to do something.”

  I glanced over at Ethan standing next to me and then turned back toward the window. “You’ve done enough,” I shot back.

  “I know you think that I went and woke him up, but I didn’t,” said Ethan. “I have no idea how they’re here.”

  “Bullshit. He said you made a deal.”

  “A deal? What do you mean, a deal? It’s a lie. Do you really think I’d go to a place that the cops could have staked out?”

  “You went there before,” I sneered in a whisper.

  Ethan seemed defeated. He turned away, looking out of the window, mumbling, “I don’t know how he got here, I swear to God.”

  “Swear to me.”

  “I swear.”

  “Well, how’d he find us, then?” I asked, braids of perspiration fusing my skin and shirt together.

  “I don’t know! They were just hiding in the bushes when I walked past. They jumped out and took me around back.”

  Jaden was continuing his pep talk to his spotter with the assault rifle. “Everyone who judged you, looked right through you, didn’t give you the chance you deserved. Just think what they’ll say when you roll up next week as the smartest, strongest, fastest person in the class. Get a full ride to an Ivy. Start your own business. Have power. Not the pretend, cheap kind these jokers get off on, but real influence. We’ll hit escape velocity and take the world by storm.”

  He stopped, listening to the voice in his ear.

  “Remember what you told me last week about having something to prove? Now’s your chance. They’re exposed in a depressed position, just waiting for you.”

  There was another pause.

  “Jesus. I think he’s gonna do it,” Ethan whispered.

  My hand lingered on a window crank.

  “Take a deep breath and just think; in a few minutes, we’ll all be in the vans driving away, safe and sound, with everything we’ll ever need. All you have to do is bring the trigger back half an inch. Hold the stock between your shoulder and chest, and move across them in a line. That’s it. They won’t even get a shot off.”

  Outside, a pair of police officers had started walking up the footpath to the door. I glanced at Ethan, who looked ill, and then I glanced behind me and saw there were only a few guests remaining who hadn’t been wrapped up in tape.

  “But I believe in you and I’m smarter than any of them,” continued Jaden. “The real question is, do you believe in me?”

  I caught a small blur of movement from the rounded rooftop across the street, like a spider crawling over a pillow, followed by an orange glow, as if someone had lit a match. Then thunder cracked, and the police squatting behind the cruiser blew over like dolls. Glass shattered. Their shrieks were supersonic, cutting through the gunfire booming around the private block.

  When the police finally figured out its origin, they flung themselves across their hoods, trying to get out of the way. But a gunshot rang out next to me and then another two from upstairs. Pop. Pop. Pop. First single drops, and then a torrent. There were officers staggering around, disoriented, like sprayed insects. I watched, sickened, as they fell awkwardly onto the pavement.

  Then rounds came flying back at us. A crash sounded from upstairs and glass shards rained down. There was a high-frequency wail as if a child had woken up screaming from a nightmare. I looked at my brother firing an assault rifle out the window and then back to the street, seeing the flecks splattered on the windshields change from blue to red with every flash of the panel light’s expression.

  There were chomping noises. Holes opened up in the cars as if they were being skewered by invisible drill bits. A small fire erupted in one engine, thrusting a hideous, boiler-like glow through the front bumper grates.

  More gunshots burst from the rooftop, followed by the dull, implacable drubbing of metal on metal. Then, once again, the street was as quiet as it had been just a few minutes before.

  “We’re clear, we’re clear! Bring the vans around!” shouted Jaden as he flew to
wards the front door. The tranquil, cooing voice he’d used with the rooftop shooter was gone. “Take twenty out and doze the rest. That’s the most we can manage!”

  Shouts ping-ponged from the balcony. Feet scrambled down the main stair. “Go! Go! Go!”

  “He said we can go with them,” Ethan told me. He was standing, unmoving, amid the upheaval. “He said he’d cut us in and get us out.”

  “Why would he do that?” I snapped. “You know more than you’re saying, don’t you? You better goddamn tell me—this is too important for any of your fucking riddles! We gotta get away from this. Right now!”

  “There’s nothing more, I promise!” cried Ethan, without taking his gaze from the window, watching as fire wrapped around the car nearest to the house. “Just that this is our best chance!”

  “How would you fucking know that? Huh? You better fucking tell me!” I screamed, shaking him. “You got me into this—you better fucking tell me what’s going on!”

  “It won’t matter,” Ethan insisted.

  I slapped him hard in the face. “Tell me! Tell me!” I screamed.

  Ethan reeled back holding his cheek, his eyes wild with fear. “He’s letting us come because . . . he thinks we can help.”

  I hit him again, harder. Blood spouted from his nose and he dropped to his knees.

  “Stop, Dorian . . . they’re just . . . he needs us for some reason! Besides . . .” Ethan tried to back up. “he has Lena!”

  “Did you see her?” I smacked him again as hard as I could.

  “Stop it, Dorian!” he yelled, smearing blood on his face as he wiped away tears. “I saw her. Yes, I saw her!”

  But even as he said the words, I realized they carried only the semblance of something I could hold on to. She was a thought that was never supposed to be spoken. A comedown that expelled the little hope remaining.

  Sirens wailing from down the street were followed by a fresh sequence of gunfire. I veered away from the window, tearing Ethan’s shirt as I pulled him around.