What Will It Be?

My name is Taylor Blade and when I was seven years old I was to go to a party. I had everything from my outfit to my reputation of words picked out. Everything was set and ready. But then I found out I was going to miss the whole event. All because of one little mistake my little sister had made. She thought she had gotten the right ingredients for a cake but had gotten the exact opposite instead.
So we all went to the store, and we all stayed at the store. When we finally arrived back home, the party was over. Or so I thought, as it turned out the party was postponed and the hosts had only told a few people.
So instead of looking like an idiot going to their house like the party was still on, I looked smart for not going to their house until the party had actually begun. When all was said and done I went to the party without much embarrassment and came home with a smile on my face.
That day I learned a valuable lesson: even when a situation looks terrible and like it will end in the worst possible way, it always has, no matter how slim, a chance to end well.
--Twelve years later--
The ideas danced in my head like clouds in the sky. All I needed was a strong wind to clear the air, just one clear thought about which it would be. There were so many choices, and all were so different. To make matters worse, I could only choose one. Or could I choose more?
I still had no clue as to which one I would go with. Not the slightest direction for what lay in front of me. The list was long, but slimmed by the fact I had to be capable of doing it on a daily basis. What I needed was a plan. A good, solid plan.
But first, I needed ice cream. Lots of sweet, frozen ice cream. Placing my hands on either side of my knees I shoved myself off the plush light brown deer skin couch that I received from my aunt a few years back. I walked across the floor, my neon green flip-flops clattering on the dark oak planks with each step, to the soon-to-be dine-in kitchen. The previous owner had taken everything out. And I mean everything. The counters, couches, sinks, tv stands, tables, chairs, bed frames, carpet, rugs, mirrors, and even the doors. Which meant for now, there was absolutely nothing. Unless skeletons of furniture and dust particules counted.
Why I was going to have all this before the week was out without having enough money to even buy a car?  Because of my two friends, Kate Kasslyn and Jessica James, aka Kate and JJ. Kate had wondrous woodworking and construction skills and put them to good use with her business, Kate's Konstruction. Which did little things like clearing weeds for a backyard garden to big things like making a mansion the size of Mount Rushmore. She wore long denim skirts and skinny jeans with graphic tees and brown knee high nagahide boots or black biker boots.
She owned a gloss black bullet bike with a loud exhaust and a highly amplified stereo and speaker system. The bike rode a little high for her 5' 6" solid build. her choice of weapons were guns, especially Glocks. Even with her permit to carry concealed she'd still been arrested and thrown in jail for it.
Basically, Kate was one year younger, two inches taller, six pounds heavier, and ten times cooler than me. JJ, in her long multicolored fluffy skirts and slim neon animal print dresses, was always out looking for the future trend. Armed with her bow, arrows and blood red lipstick was numero uno in the world of clothes designing.
She had magnificent cosmopolitan skills and fantastic outfit coordinating skills and held her own line of fashion known as EC style, which consisted of dresses, skirts, tops, leggings, high heels, and sandals, as did her wardrobe. She had wavy brown hair streaked with blonde, the waves caused by constantly being braided or curled, and dark brown eyes that seemed too big for her know-it-all attitude.
She had a green 400 horsepower '69 fastback Mustang with yellow racing stripes down the center and speakers so loud they'd rattle the fillings in your teeth. built into the front and back seats were drawers. The backseat drawer was usually overflowing with clothes, cosmetics, needles, thread, the front had a CD rack packed with CD's dating back to the 80s when they first came out.
The seats themselves had a thick fabric lining and could be adjusted to one's liking with a control panel on the side that controlled how much air was put into or taken out of it. The car was a lowrider but fit her 5' 7", without shoes, athletic frame.
Though her nickname was Jessie James she could not and would not use a gun, but put a bow in her hands and you've got Robin Hood's long lost twin. Crazy as it sounds, the only thing either of them ever shot at was targets and the occasional tire. Or two. Sometimes three. Maybe four. Given the chance, six. Sooooo they shot out a lot of tires, okay? It's like their signature.
Me? I had swords, daggers, knives, and practically anything and everything else attached to a blade. My boots were made custom for me, thanks to JJ, with sheaths built right into the black leather, placed stragetically around the ring at the top, three along one side; three along the other, plus one in back and one in front. Eight knives inside each boot. Inside. As in more on the outside.
Two, side-by-side, at the back of the heel, encased in the rubber sole. One going in at the side under the arch. Four others lining the rounded outer edge. Because of all these and the Spurs, my cowboy boots weighed about five pounds each. Putting me at 131 lb. on the scale. Not bad considering the only exercise I really did was running everywhere since my luck with cars went hand in hand with big booms, roaring flames, melted scrap metal. Needless to say, I'd seen my share of explosions and more.
My last car was a Jeep Cherokee. When it blew the flames blended with the bright orange paint. That was Friday. Today was Monday. A new day, I thought, rushing around the sorry excuse of an island to the fridge. Bending down, I pulled on the handle to the freezer. The sudden and drastic change in temperature took my breath away.
I scanned over the labels until I found the one I wanted, Cookie dough brownie. I yanked the gallon tub up and slid the freezer door closed with ease. A new feeling since my old freezer couldn't be opened more than an inch. Setting the frosted container on the floor by the fridge, I selected a blue plastic cup from its stack near the wannabe counter to the side of the fridge.
In its own accord, my hand inadvertently dropped to the bottom of said box to a plastic container holding all my silverware. I chose a smaller spoon and plopped it into the cup for the time being. I positioned myself so that I was sitting like a dog.
I spooned a good amount of ice cream into the glass, making sure to get as many chunks of cookie dough as I could, and knowing it was against the new diet JJ had made up for me. Snapping the plastic lid back in its place I heard the distinct sound of my cedar wood door opening, banging against the front room wall. JJ waddled in like a duck, her arms full of assorted junk. Paper towels, paints, tape, rollers, paint brushes, buttons, fabric, yarn - and last but not least- Maria Calenders Key Lime Pie.
"Okay girlie girl. Get out. Now. Not tryin' to be rude or anything but I got some serious decorating to do on this so called apartment of yours and I can't have you in my way. Kates on her way over now with lumber and nails and whatever else and we're gonna finish what we started here. So go to the track, the garage, or the museum for all I care. Just go and don't come back for at least four hours. Preferably five. Get it? Got it? Good. Now go." She said in her unique California slang.
Ice cream in hand, I walked past her and took a right towards my bedroom. I quickly flipped the overhead, single bulb light on, flooding the room with florescent yellow. Despite the rest of the layout being under construction my room was done. Neon green dots were scattered along the wall, contrasting from the brown undercoat.
To my left, cut into the wall, facing outwards was a double door closet overflowing with clothes. Beside it, mounted to the wall via nails, was a six-foot mirror I hardly ever looked into. A smooth sky blue summer blanket splayed across the Tempur-Pedic pillow top mattress that laid on the floor.
At the foot of the bed was a spruce storage bench used to reserve mechanic books, hunting magazines, maps, crossword puzzles, Sudoku booklets, cards, dice, paints, board games, markers, colored pencils, sketchbooks, and a dictionary. Despite how old I was, I still didn't act my age. And I never would.
There was a window beside the bed, 3 feet high and 2 feet wide and cut in half, in order to open it one would have to undo the latch and slide the bottom portion upward.
I walked to the back wall and ran my hand along the thin trim board, finding the hidden tin latch almost immediately. I pulled on the latch, the lock clicked open, and the wooden panel swung back without so much as a whisper.
I stepped into the concealed space and scanned the room. Grey cushioned office chair positioned in front of a wall-to-wall stainless steel desk. Two filing cabinets under the desk, one on each side. L-shaped bookcase in the left corner beside a two seater couch and an oval coffee table.
A large array of monitors, computers, laptops, CCTV security footages, keyboards, CD's, VHS tapes, notepads, pencil holders, and a 42'' flat screen TV was on and above the desk, all tilted towards the center so the person sitting could see all the brightly lit screens at once.
I reached down and picked up my freshly washed army green and black nylon backpack. Sitting it on the table top I began to fill it with my handy paraphernalia. 13in Toshiba laptop, sketchpad and pencil, small box of high-tech tracking devices, compact mirror, fishing line, hairbrush, cosmetics case, lightweight jacket, camera, mini tape recorder, neon blue sunglasses, Mentos, 3 packs pink bubblegum, small box of paperclips, thumbtacks, blue Gatorade, coconut trail mix, 6 chocolate chip granola bars, all-purpose pocket knife, small tool case containing 2 wrenches, set of sockets, Philips screwdriver with attachments, and a hex key set, heavy-duty blue latex gloves, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle T-shirt, ankle socks with bright yellow stars, Rangers ball cap, blue iPod nano and earphones, clear water bottle, extra lip gloss, checkbook, pepper spray, phone charger, a bottle of Coca-cola, and Banana Boat sunscreen.
I slung the bag over my shoulder, holding the strap so it wouldn't fall off, and, closing the panel behind me, walked out of the hidden compartment as if nothing were there. I walked over to my closet and opened the doors.
Shuffling through the clothes, I selected a pair of skinny jeans, a blue Built Ford Tough Shirt, and my typical cowboy boots. After closing my closet doors, I stalked out of my bedroom, down the hall a short distance, into the bathroom.
The bathroom was in the process of remodeling and looked the likes of something out of a horror movie. Okay, maybe not that bad. But close enough. The walls were bare and without character. the soon-to-be sink was just a cabinet.The bath and toilet hadn't yet been put in. The mirror was mounted on the wall but without trim.
I quickly slipped into my new outfit. Looking in the mirror I squelched a grimace at my appearance. I knew I didn't look great but I wasn't prepared to look quite that bad.
My long half curly, half straight blonde hair was loose, falling half way down my back. My blue eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. The cut I had gotten in the cat fight between me and Josie had almost healed. And to top it all off, my teeth were crooked.
The faded jeans were a little long, bunching on the inside of my boots. The shirt reached just below my dark brown leather belt but clustered above my black and silver belt buckle tjhat had 'Rebel Without A Cause' written on it in a cursive design via shiny gemstones.
I walked out of the bathroom and turned left towards the front room. Just before I got to the couch Kate burst through the door, half her supplies stacked sky-high in her arms and went straight to the kitchen. Searching the couch cushions for the one thing I could never find, my mind rooted out other spots it might have been hiding. Just as I decided it wasn't in the couch Kate came through the kitchen doors.
"Wassup homes." She said as way of greeting.
I gave her a nod and smiled wide when I saw her hair-do.
"Don't say it. Don't even think it. I know what you're smiling about and it's not funny." My smile only widened " It was funny when she did it to you. But now she's doing it to me. And it's not at all funny. We both look like Princess Layla from that stupid Star Wars movie, dammit."
I looked beyond her and burst out laughing at the sight.
"What did you just say?" JJ said, eyes narrowed to slits, from behind Kate.
JJ was hands on hips and looked madder than a hornet whose nest had just been sprayed. I looked back at Kate and couldn't help but laugh harder. Her eyes were bugged out so much I thought they'd fall out of their sockets.
"It's hard work puttin' your hair up to look like Princess Layla, but you know what? I still do it, just so you don't have to. And if I don't get some respect for that I'm gonna cut you off that fudge you love so much" JJ said, eyes still narrowed, her country ways showing through the city slicker facade she'd built up over the years.
Kate desperately mouthed the word 'help' to me.
"This is your problem, Kate. You said it. Not me." I told her as I did a hands up You're-on-your-own gesture.
"You don't even know Princess Layla," Kate said as a defense.
JJ walked around the couch to stand in front of Kate and probably give her an entire speech as to why she should appreciate JJ's help and accept the 'future trend'.
Keeping her eyes on Kate, JJ said to me, " And Taylor, I told you to go. Now go. Your jackets in a heap by the door as usual. I'll see you later."
We had made a pact when we were little kids to never ever say goodbye. Because when you said bye it sounded to permanent as if that was the last time you'd be talking to that person. Only when we were in big trouble did we say goodbye, and even then it was only meant as a warning.
I turned to go but was stopped by a familiar tap on the shoulder. " Here. You left this on my bike the other day. If I don't call you in a half hour, start with JJ." Kate said, handing me the object I'd been looking for in the couch.
I turned again and walked to the door. Sure enough, looking down, I saw my black NASCAR sweatshirt laying on the floor. I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder like a bag. MY BACKPACK!
Relieved that I'd remembered it, I ran down the hall to the bathroom where I'd left it moments ago. I picked it up with my free hand and slung it over my shoulder, still holding it by the strap I sprinted out of the bathroom and down the hall.
I opened the door and, stepping out, almost jumped out of my own skin when I heard Ms. Benlry sing out "Hello, my darlin'. Hello, my darlin' girl."
Ms. Benlry was a nice lady with long white hair she kept down and bright blue eyes that could see through anyone. So when I looked up at her I absolutely had to smile.
"Can't sleep?" I asked, truly concerned.
She'd gotten her high cheek bones and Native skin tone from her Indian ancestors. She smiled warmly, flashing me pretty white teeth, and shook her head. "No. None of my remedies are working. I don't understand why." In the four days I'd spent in the new apartment, there wasn't a one she didn't wear a dress.
This evening, it happened to be white with ruffles from the waist down. The ruffles showered over a pair of flat white sandals styled with a pink flower on the top. The pearl neckless that hung elegantly around her slender neck matched the pearl earrings dangling lightly from her ears. "Have you thought about it?" She wanted to know.
"About what?" I asked her.
"You know. It."
"Oh. That it. Yeah, I've been thinking but I still don't know."
"Well, your only nineteen, you still have the rest of your life ahead of you."
"I know. But whatever it is I want to start ASAP."
Her eyes sparkled as she laughed softly.
"I remember when I was your age. I felt the exact same way."
I sighed, remembering my childhood. At age six I had wanted to continue the family business of farming. Age eight I dreamed of being a singer. I still had the notebook full of songs I had written. Then, when I turned eleven I wanted to be a waitress. Fifteen I'd hoped to one day be in some kind of law enforcement like CIA or FBI or Texas Ranger.
Then when I started thinking about it, like really think about it, I decided I wanted to go into the army. My dad had thrown a fit when I told him. The pain I thought I had rid of came back in an instant. The words said, The things done. It still hurt.
"Well, I better get home. I need to start dinner. I'll see you tomorrow Taylor."
The words snapped me out of the trance I hadn't been aware of. I nodded my head at her and walked down the hall to the stairs. I live on the second floor of an old five-story apartment building with little landscaping. The carpet was oriental in shades of red and gold. The walls were white on top and yellow on bottom, separated by an oak trim board.
I trotted down the stairs to the lobby. Stopping on the bottom step I looked out the front glass doors and saw Krener street, busy with five 'o' clock traffic. The back door led to Sugarcane Boulevard, only a few pedestrians on the sidewalk.
I chose to go through the back door, where the parking lot was. The outside was basically brick, mortar, and blacktop. The hedge was recently trimmed, morphing them into unique, one of a kind shapes. A small rock fountain was positioned in the corner of the building and an eight-foot chain link fence. The idea was to have a front stoop along the wall, looking out over the fountain and greenery.
Instead, there was a hedge along the street, a fountain in the corner and a concrete pad for a porch. Not the best, but not the worst, either.

 

 

Tip Of The Iceberg

I started down the sidewalk, window shopping as I went. Brightly colored ads were stuck on the inside of the windows for countless items. 2 Pizzas for only $5, Buy any 1 Tide get a second free!, Movie bargain $1 a movie, 20% off any purchase of ladies' shoes.
I stopped by a light post and dropped my backpack on the concrete walkway. I slipped into my sweatshirt and pulled the reflective sunglasses from my bag. Sliding the Oakleys on I remembered my iPod and earphones. After zipping up the bag, I turned on the black iPod and tapped the music icon.
I went with Thunderstruck by AC\DC and started humming along. I was interrupted by a loud roll of thunder that rattled my brain. I looked up into the dark clouds just as the sky broke, sending rain down fast and hard.
In the seconds it took me to run across the street, the pouring rain had already soaked through my jeans and sweatshirt, making my T-shirt damp. Holding my hands above my head (as if that was going to stop the rain from hitting me) I ran through the nearest door.
I was welcomed by the ding of a bell hanging from the door handle and the sweet smell of sugary treats. The girl behind the counter looked a little frightened so I pulled the hood on my jacket down.
Well, I thought, At least now I don't have to worry about my hair being staticky. Since it was plastered to my forehead instead.
I looked around the little shop, taking everything in. The small Formica tables were red as was the vinyl bench seats that accompanied them. The linoleum floors were black and white and worn from years of continuous use.The register looked as if it could have been an extra prop from The Waltons.
Tubs of frosting sat upon a wire rack against the left wall, in front of the counter. To my right was another wire rack stuffed full of packaged loaves of bread and rolls. a wide variety of sweetmeats sat stacked in rows inside glass showcases on top the counter.
Chewy chocolate squares. Soft Caramel bars. Cream filled donuts. Glazed donuts. Cheesecakes of many flavors. Marble swirl cakes. Tapioca pudding cups. Chocolate Chip Cookies. Peanut butter cupcakes. Rasberry filled cannoli. Blueberry muffins. Cosmic Brownies. Vanilla Twinkies. Banana cream pies. Cheese danishes. (I'm seriously making myself hungry right now)
I judged the girl behind the long wall-to-wall counter to be in her late teens to early twenties. Her shoulder-length brown hair had thick pink streaks through it bringing out her hazel eyes that were framed by purple rimmed glasses slowly sliding down her slender nose. Looking at her name tag, I found her name was Olivia.
My boots tapped and squeaked as I walked up to the area below the Order Here sign hanging from the ceiling by small rusted chains. I stopped abruptly to observe the large menu on the back wall.
As I read, the humming of a blender drifted out to me through an open door. A series of noises that sounded quite like an oven door opening and closing came next. So, I thought to myself, They do make everything in-store. Just like the ad in the window had said.
I reached back and pulled my zip-up black with orange polka dots wallet out of my right pocket. "I'll take two chocolate cupcakes, one cream filled donut, and ... two slices of raspberry cheesecake, please." I said slowly making my selection from the showcases holding those exactly.
"That will be $11.50." She said after ringing it up. She looked up and readjusted her glasses. "Hey, you look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" She asked half smiling as if she knew the answer.
"Um, I'm not sure. You might have. I've been practically everywhere lately." I said.
"You have a drawl. That's so cute."
Ugh. The drawl. It was a living, breathing dread that I despised. And everyone else adored. Back home in Mississipi, it was tolerable, probably because everybody there had a southern drawl. Or maybe it was the Spurs. It could even have been the stiff black felt cowboy hat I always wore and sometimes still did. Whatever it was, was gone because now it was just a pain in my neck.
"So I've been told" I responded.
She laughed softly. "You hate it, huh? I can hear it in your voice."
"Yeah. I wish I didn't have to deal with it."
"I don't know. I think it's kinda cute."
"Exactly. I hate being called 'cute'. It's the worst insult since the beginning of time."
"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad, can it?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"Mmkay." She muttered with a smile.
The front door banged open with a barely audible ding from the bell. Laughter erupted from the new customers, A group of men around mid-twenties. I saw the girl I knew only as Olivia tense and her smile fade.
I analyzed the newcomers with cynical eyes. Thier jeans were baggy and falling down a little too low. Two had a string of tear shaped tattoos under their eyes, telling me they were in a gang and had murdered more than one person. One with dark skin and darker hair, with a long scar slicing from his right brow down to the bottom of his jaw, looked at me and winked. Great. Just friggin great.
Tightening my jaw I looked back at Olivia and asked, "Can you please go and get my order ready. I'm in a bit of a hurry." I said, playing the role of the goody-two-shoes rich girl.
"Yes." Was all she said verbally, but the expression on her face said thank you. She hurried through the door I figured led to the back room where the real magic happened.
"Hey, girly. You here alone?" The voice was definitely Mexican. Which could mean a few things.
I turned to see the guy who'd winked at me earlier walking my way. I shoved my hands in the pocket of my sweatshirt and turned away, ignoring him. I scoped out three exits...just in case. I'd done this before and knew things could get real ugly real fast. I learned my lesson to always have multiple escapes. Counting on just one was simply suicide.
A strong hand grabbed my arm and flipped me around. Anger flashed in his eyes as he tightened his grip, pulling me closer. His face was inches from mine as he whispered, "I asked you a question. I expect an answer."
"too bad." I said as my free hand went to the Buck knife on my left leg. So, there was a good thing about JJ's clothes designing, I secretly thought, My clothes were always being adjusted just for me. Sheaths sewn onto my pants. Roller skate option in my boots. And custom designs on my tops.
I had to deal with a lot of people when I was fifteen. Mostly because of my business, Kody's Garage. Fifteen years old and I bought a thirty-acre lot on main street. I, Kate, and JJ all put our workstations in a single building, thin walls between them.
JJ's beauty boutique, Kody's garage, and Kate's MotorKross were on the front page of the weekly newspaper in no time. I still remembered the caption: The TriFri's do it again. TriFri's. It stood for 'tri friends' or 'three friends'.
My lips curved into a Don't-mess-with-me-or-you're-gonna-get-hurt smirk. In the back of my mind, I thought out a few scenarios of what could happen here. I slid the 8" blade from its holder and tapped it against his leg, making him glance downward hesitantly.
"What the..." He trailed off. Finally registering what was going on, he lunged back.
Feeling quite smart, I whispered to him in what I hoped to be a dangerous voice, "You don't want to do that. I've got a short temper and a bad attitude. Especially with wannabe gangsters." I held the knife in my hand, it wouldn't be a good thing to put it back just yet. Not that I always did the good thing, but still.
He reached behind him and pulled out a black Glock 9. Olivia came through the door just as he pointed his gun towards the ceiling and fired off two shots. ------- more shots, I noted. Plus however many his buddies had. That could be a lot.
"This is a robbery." He shouted. "Everybody on the floor now. You." He said aiming the gun directly at me, totally freaking me out. " Come here."
Knots formed in the pit my stomach. This wasn't going to end well. Best case would be no one shot, fatally or otherwise, and the crooks in jail by nightfall. Worst case... I didn't even want to think about what the worst case was.
Shocked and scared, the white bakery bag with Donut Hut splashed across the front slipped out of Olivia's hands and crashed to the floor. The frosting on the cupcakes smeared the recently cleaned checkered surface as they slid along the floor like pebbles did on ice.
The guy, I assumed was the leader, whipped his head around as if he hadn't noticed she'd come back. Olivia went white as a ghost at his dark expression. She flipped a U and high-tailed it through the door.
"Get her. The boss wants no witnesses." The leader barked. Two men behind him jumped into action. Pulling their guns they scrambled over the high counter and hit the floor running. Unless she knew some serious self-defense, she was dead.
Kicking my foot up, my boot flew through the air and clocked the bigger guy square in the side of the head. "Bull's-eye!" I said throwing a fist in the air then yanking my elbow back to my side as if I'd won the world championship.
Dazed, probably by the outstanding weight, he staggered but didn't fall. Until he hit the wall with the other side of his head. That's when he fell. Just as I was about to kick my other boot at his partner, Olivia came back through the kitchen door holding a sawn-off shotgun and a .38 special with a top-of-the-line silencer on the end of it.
Her eyes were a little too wide, her hand a little too shaky. It wasn't a secret she wasn't comfortable with a gun. But still, she came back for me when there were at least six guys, fully armed, robbing the store. I added another notch for her on my respect-o-meter. Yes, I was still giving and taking points of respect. It's just how I do things.
Still holding his gun, the leader reached out and grabbed me. My back against him, he put the muzzle to my temple and pressed hard, letting me know he was the one with the gun, not me. "Don't do anything like that again. Or I will kill you. Right here, right now. After all, that's what a gun is for." He was so close I could smell the peppermint on his breath.
"No. A gun is for hunting. And you've just become the hunted." I replied, throwing my head back. I heard the particular sound of bones breaking, probably his nose. I swung my arm out and jerked it back in, elbowing him in the ribcage.
Moving fast, I ripped the gun from his hands and smacked it against his cheekbone. He dropped to the floor, knocked unconscious by the impact. I looked up and my jaw clenched. I pointed the gun at the guy holding a knife to Olivia's throat. There was a sharp pain in the back of my head and everything went black.

No Time To Waste

I slowly blinked my eyes open, only to see darkness. I had a throbbing pain in the back of my head, slowly moving to my forehead. I wiggled around but had limited movement. My hands and feet were bound with blue and pink leopard print Duct tape. Really? Blue and pink leopard print Duct tape? What happened to regular gray tape? Or black? But seriously? Leopard print? Ugh, what was the world coming to?
I opened my mouth to speak but was stopped by a strip of, guess what? You got it, leopard print tape across my lips. It was dark. I was bound. And this wasn't one of my scenarios. I was pretty sure it wasn't a dream, either. The beginnings of panic encircled me.
I hadn't a clue where I was, or who I was there with. Something touched my side and I flipped like a coin in midair. My words were muffled but along the lines of "Get away from me." and "Touch me, I'll kill you." It was an empty threat, of course, but I figured it was the usual thing to say.
I twisted and turned, scooting away from whoever it was. Though muffled, a woman's voice came back to me. She was quiet and sounded much like the crying I heard in my dazed dreamy state earlier. In an instant, everything came roaring back.
The bakery. The guys with guns. Her coming out with a sawn off and .38 special. Me jabbing the leader in the ribs. And then nothing. I couldn't remember anything past the point of seeing Olivia with a knife to her throat.
Just the thought of it made me shiver. I'd never seen anybody murdered. And I sure as heck didn't want to, it wouldn't matter if I'd known her for ten minutes or ten years. It wasn't the type of activity I wanted to be a part of. I wasn't the good kid, but I wasn't the, all-in-all, bad kid either. I was sort of in the middle. Leaning towards bad.
I sat up and leaned back slowly to find a wall. My vision swayed from side-to-side but didn't fade. leaning against the wall, I realized they hadn't taken my backpack. Amateurs. The knives in my boots and on my jeans were gone. So they did do a body search.
My belt was gone, which meant the little dagger on the buckle was gone, too. Okay, calm down. I told myself, Take stock. identify location. Make plan. I counted off the steps in my head. Taking a deep breath I strained to remember the contents of my bag. The phone I had in my pocket was no longer there. My wallet wasn't in its place.
I felt around until I found nylon. Running my hands down I sought out the bottom, where yet another, longer dagger was carefully stitched into the black nylon using steel cord and fishing line. Pulling the razor-sharp dagger from its black sheath I turned it in my hand and sliced through the tape like a hot knife through warm butter.
Putting the waved blade on the floor beside me, I tore the rest of the tape from my wrists. Reaching up I peeled the tape from my face and dropped it carelessly on the floor. I trailed my hand along the cool floor seeking the dagger, I heard the sound of footfalls. They were coming. I didn't have much time left.
I severed the tape around my ankles but didn't bother to peel it off. Scooting towards the other person I assumed was Olivia, The footfalls stopped. I took a moment to get my blood pressure below stroke-level and continued on with my cautiously thought half way through plan.
Cutting the tape on Olivia I began to calm. I holstered the dagger back in its place and stood. Walking slowly, I ran my hand along the wall, coming to an abrupt stop when I felt the hinges of the door. I started humming the words of Thunderstruck, quietly at first, then louder when I hit the actual words.
Turning the handle I peeked out. The room beyond us was empty with the exception of shelves stacked to the ceiling with burlap sacks labeled in dark block letters their contents. Still singing, I closed the door just as softly as I had opened it. Turning to face Olivia I asked in a barely audible whisper, "Do you know where we are? It looks like a store room outside. "
She was still seated, her slender arms wrapped around her shaky legs, her chin resting on her knees. The intensity that was in her eyes when I first came in had dulled. The bright smile that could light up anybody's day was down to a pout.
"Three." She mumbled.
"Three what?" I asked, confused.
"Three robberies in two weeks. FBI said it'd get better, but it's only gotten worse." She looked up at me with a dead look on her face. "We'll never get away. Nobody does. Ever."
"What do you mean three robberies? Who're the robbers?"
"Black ice."
Black ice. The name didn't mean a darn thing to me. I didn't know who Black ice was. I didn't have to, to know I already disliked them. I looked back at the door already making a plan of escape. I wrapped my hand around the handle. But before I could turn it the door was yanked open.
It was like one of those Hollywood movies. Where the Dumb Blonde keeps doing stupid things. Where you already know what's going to happen. Where you sit on the edge of the couch and scream at the TV, telling her what she should do. Then she does the exact opposite.
That's what it felt like as I stood there watching him. He was about 5'10" and big. A skull and crossbones were tattooed on his right arm. He had a burn mark above his left brow. The anger in his eyes showed on his face. His blood pressure looked as if it were reaching cardiac arrest.
Coming to my senses I jumped into action. Shoving him back into a wall I ran out the door, quietly calling to Olivia as I did so. An open door was in the far corner. I sprinted to it and flattened my back against the wall. Being careful not to alert anyone who may be outside, I poked my head through and saw seven men, dressed in black, packing boxes out through another door in the back.
So, I have two choices. Stay here and surprise attack them when they come for us. Or make a run for it now. I thought, mentally weighing out the pros and cons.
Eight men, if I included the guy in the backroom, against us two. Not a good thought. Better to go with something else. I knew there was a front room, a bake room, a storeroom, and a backroom.
I scanned the store room, searching for anything that would have even the slightest bit of use to us. Flour, sugar, vinegar, baking powder, baking soda, baking cocoa, salt, cinnamon, sage, oregano, basil, and yeast. Not much but it would have to do.
I slid a glance to Olivia, who had now replaced the dead look with a scared one. A great idea popped into my head like a light when the switch is flipped. My lips curved into an arrogant grin. This was the storeroom. Storerooms had fans to keep circulation. I tapped Olivia on the shoulder and mouthed, "Where's the fan?"
She pointed towards the back of the room, where a large shelf sat in a fine layer of dust. I nodded my head at her in a 'follow me' gesture. I tip-toed my way between the long aisles to the very back. Looking up I saw the aluminum fan, it wasn't very big but we could manage.
I grabbed the shelf giving it a good shake, it was sturdy and didn't move much at all. Placing my foot on the bottom shelf and began to climb up it like I did when I was little and used to climb trees. My nickname had been Monkey for a week.
Finally at the top, I examined the holdings of the fan. Finding it took a regular Philips screwdriver, I slipped my backpack off one strap at a time. Unzipping quietly to go unnoticed by the bad guys -kiddy as that sounds- until we were in place and waiting for them.
When I was a kid I played what we liked to call Army guys. We had pellet guns, BB guns, paintball guns, marshmallow nerf guns, dart guns, and last but most painful, salt rock guns. Throwing pallets and wooden crates all over the backyard for cover. Digging ditches and tunnels in random directions. And trampling paths through the wild barley. We made a practice field.
I rummaged around in the bag until I found the slim black metal tool case. Popping the lock, I lifted the lid and looked inside. Blindly, I felt around until I got what I wanted. I pulled the screwdriver from its place and snapped the lid of the tool case shut. Shoving the rest of my tools back in the bag I heard Olivia whistle.
Instantly my head whipped around and I caught sight of the guy from the backroom that came to check on us. Jumping off the shelf I raised my hands up in a stop gesture and instantly began stalling time.
"Hey. How you feeling?" I started, slowly taking a step to the side. He didn't say anything. Guess he wasn't too happy about being pushed into a wall by an unofficial member of the Lollipop Guild. He moved one step closer and I took two steps back, putting me right where I needed to be.
"Hey, buddy. We're cool, right? Just a little push. Nothing anybody can't handle." Without Novocaine and painkillers. His head connected with a beam when he stumbled back and was probably throbbing like my head was now. He was going to have to get twenty stitches. At least.
A tight smile formed on my lips. Pulling a knife from the back of his waistband he lunged forward. Springing into action, I gripped a supersize sack of white flour and flung it at him. Easier said than done. It had to weigh at least a hundred pounds, if not more.
As soon as it made contact, the bag exploded, sending flour everywhere. I couldn't see six inches in front of me but somehow knew right where to go. I sprinted to the shelf and climbed up the steel frame on double time. I still had the screwdriver in my hand and the same arrogant smile on my face.
Unscrewing the fan as fast as my hand would move, the sounds of Olivia trying to get up the shelf drifted up to meet my ringing ears. When the fan cover finally came loose it fell down directly on my face. Wasting no time, I picked it up and threw it like a frisbee. Ripping the fan blades and motor out, I dropped the items to the floor and hoisted myself up, crawling into the cramped space.
There were four ways to choose from I realized, scooting myself backward, over the open space. Olivia was still down there. And it wasn't in any of my plans to leave her. I lowered my hand and whispered, as if it would help now, after the chaos we just caused, "Grab my hand. I'll pull you up." Whoa. My voice was way too calm, even for me.
Though her palm was sweaty, her grip was tight. Pulling her through the fan hole wasn't an easy job. She wasn't what you would call light as a feather but rather heavy as an icebox. Banging my head on the roof of the air vent, I finally brought her into the duct work.
Making a power decision to go forward I hoped it was the right way. Wiping the flour from my eyes I realized my plan was no good. I needed supplies to make it work. Turning around in open space wasn't an easy process for me. Turning around in a 2 x 1 space felt practically impossible.
Finally, after banging my head at every possible angle, and hitting my funny bone thrice, I was facing the way back to the storeroom. Olivia had turned around and was waiting, probably not too enthusiastic to go back alone. Following Olivia, we crawled back to the open air vent. Sticking my head out I could see the guy on the floor, probably unconscious, and a thick layer of flour covering everything from the floor to the ceiling.
Not finding much threat, I used my arms and slowly but swiftly lowered myself back through the vent hole and dropped to the concrete floor with a minimum of noise. Feeling much like a ninja, I tip-toed my way to the rusted steel frame containing the sacks of flour.
I lugged one of the heavy bags to the makeshift latter and all but flung it on the highest shelf I could. Which wasn't very high at all. Holding onto the beams with one hand, I pulled the bag from off its platform and slung it to the top shelf, where Olivia reached down and lifted it up into the vents with a grunt.
Jumping backward, I landed on the concrete floor. Turning around I scoured the shelves for the two things left on my mental list. My common sense told me to look on the rack of seasonings first, so I headed in the general direction all the while, praying I wouldn't be caught.
I glared at the spice bottles in all different sizes from tall and thin to short and wide. Speed-reading (if that's a word) the alphabetized labels I crossed over the one I came to gather. It was packaged in a 7in x 3in container and held just enough to do the job. I evaluated the formula in my head one more time before fumbling to grab a 2nd bottle.
Who knows? It might just come in handy. Spinning on my heel to walk back the way I came, I analyzed the shelf on the other side of me. Almost dropping the two bottles in my hands when I caught sight of the 2nd item I concluded to be necessary for my master plan.
Walking away I found a row of peppermint bottles. Picking up eight I suddenly remembered my backpack. I keep forgetting that thing and I'm going to be in deep trouble, I thought to myself as I lightly sprinted for the backroom, where we'd been held captive just minutes ago.
I padded through the open door and yanked the bag from off the floor. Unzipping the biggest pocket I heard a car door slam outside. Checking off the items from my list as I threw them into the bag to be sorted later.
Hurrying back to the fan I saw no sign of Olivia. The 'bad guy' was still on the floor. There were no new footprints in the flour. I shrugged my backpack on and ventured up the shelf, through the entry, and came face-to-face with none other than...........................................Olivia. (Had you fooled, didn't I? You thought it was going to be a Killer clown? Sorry. That comes later.)
Crawling slowly to not make noise, I analyzed the situation. Hair caked with flour. Crawling in a space too small for my liking. My boots didn't feel right without the weight. And to put the mud on top, I had to constantly pull my pants up from lack of a belt.
I decided today was not my day. Olivia brought up the rear, leaving me to take point. This wasn't new. It didn't matter who I was with. I always took point. Pushing the heavy white sack ahead of me I crawled onward. Slow and steady had never been my style. It was either give it 110% and get it done right away or don't do it at all.
I came to another fan cover, looking through the slats I saw the robbers. I motioned to Olivia an A-okay. Now for the fun part. I heaved myself over the white bag and headed over to another fan cover. I knocked the cover down, catching their attention in an instant when it crashed to the floor.
In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of the flour bag floating slowly to the floor. Though it took its dear sweet time getting there, it, like the other, exploded on contact. Sending flour into every nook and cranny in reach.
Now was our chance. They were distracted, and the flour cloud was our cover. I wiggled through the little fan hole and dropped, quite loudly, to the industrial floor. Olivia was already down and running through the back door where the men had packed the boxes out.
I sprinted out into a back alley and went with my instinct to go left. The ally was stuffed with wooden crates and fifty-five-gallon barrels. At the end of it was an industrial size dumpster that stunk like rotten eggs and stale bread.
Skidding around the corner a strong arm wrapped firmly around my waist and jerked me back, knocking the breath out of my already on-fire lungs. My mouth was dry as reality slowly, taking its dear sweet time, sunk in.
I was caught. Probably going to die. My mind was running a million miles per hour and yet not a single thought came into my head. Fear began to claw its way through my cluttered thoughts. Regrets poured in after it.
I clenched my jaw. No, this was not how I'd go down. If I had to die, I was going to die fighting. I'd stand up and at least try to escape. If I couldn't, then so be it. Olivia was probably halfway to Mexico with the speed she had been going. She was smart and reliable. She'd call for help. All I had to do now was stall.

 

Wrong Move

I lifted my knee and slammed it back, hitting whoever was behind me dead center in the kneecap with the heel of my hard sole sneaker. I jerked my head forward, then back again and caught him, like I did the leader, on his nose, crushing it completely. Outraged, he stomped his foot in front of mine and slid it back, forcing me to fall, face first, into the hard concrete. Guess he wasn't too happy with me. Good, don't give what you can't take.
My nose began to bleed furiously as the pain swelled. The impact had opened the cut on my lip and knocked the air out of my lungs. It only took a second to catch my breath, but it didn't help calm my panicky outraged and ready to run attitude. In less than a second, he was kneeling to the side of me, fumbling around for my wrists I hadn't been aware of moving.
I yanked my elbow up and jabbed him hard as I could in the ribs, knocking him back a few inches, if that. I rolled towards him onto my side, forcing him to lose his balance and fall with me to the cold ground. looking death in the eyes had never been on my favorite things to do list and now that I was actually doing it, I put it on my mental bucket list. Right behind jumping willingly into a muddy lake filled with piranhas and electric eels slicing through thick dark green seaweed.
Disregarding the throbbing pain constantly tormenting my body, I frantically scrambled to my aching feet and took off at a dead sprint with nothing left to lose. If I could get to a street I could signal for help. It was almost dark, telling me it was around eight 'o' clock, and making it much harder to find my way through the endless back alleys and tricky side streets.
If it was eight now that meant I'd been gone from my apartment for about three hours. Neither JJ nor Kate would be looking for me for at least another hour, if not two. My luck ran low at the best of times and this was not nearly the best of times.
I'd gone exploring through the block around my apartment but was still new to the area, just getting familiar with the sharp turns and long straightaways. I'd only eaten the ice cream, but adrenalin was on my side, giving me enough energy to run a marathon.
I turned right and hit the skitters. Dead end. I flipped around and decided to go left where yet another three-way could be seen at the end. The sun was already down, leaving behind a soft orange yellow glow.
The smell of old grease consumed me as I jumped over yet another short stack of old-looking wooden crates. My limbs felt like hot pudding and my throat burned with every breath, but there was no way even thinkable I could stop.
dirty stainless steel garbage cans reeking of what smelled worse than roadkill lined the grungy wall to my right, contrasting to the bright colorful graffiti covering the soot-stained brick wall on my left. Running at full speed I splashed through the muddy puddles below me.
This was not how my day was supposed to go. I did not plan for anything close to this. I actually believed this would never happen, at least not to me.
My blood was just over stroke level as I jerked my tired body left, around yet another corner and saw Kin Kan street just ahead. I was in the home stretch. Once I got to the street I could get help. I ran even faster, swinging my arms for no apparent reason, with some new found energy.
The street sounded less than empty, not a single car or truck could be heard even in the distance. But I could find my way from Kin Kan to somewhere where I could get help. I glanced over my shoulder and, seeing nothing of interest to me, whipped my head around, half expecting to see a killer clown with a drug induced smile holding a bloody machete and chanting some Voo-Doo spell.
I didn't notice any killer clowns crossing my path so I kept going. Twenty feet from the pavement I froze like dry ice at the sound of heavy footfalls coming up fast behind me. Judging by the calm steady thump thump..thump thump it had to be a professional. The men at the bakery didn't seem like pros to me, but hey, I couldn't tell the difference between Brad Pitt and Brad Thor, even if my life, and right now it was, was on the line.
I quickly analyzed my surroundings for anything of cover. Not finding anything but two rusted out steel garbage cans at the end of the alley just before the street and a stack of old busted wooden crates with faded block letters labeling them sat directly in front of me, in the middle of the ally.
back in the day, when I was little I built top secret hide-outs with regular household items, it was always so much fun until my sister or brother decided to destroy it and tell me to stop goofing off.
They had always said it would never lead to anything of importance but right now it was my only chance of survival. Thank goodness for the little things. The gears in my rock solid head had already begun to turn, working up the outline of a natural looking fort. If I played my cards right, which I never could during any kind of poker game, I could clear out a big enough space to hide in until the coast was clear.
Then run like crazy until my American dollar was worth 18.83 pesos. I knew it'd only be when I got out of harm's reach would my breath be steady, so I reached out for my first box. I realized my hands were numb as I wrapped my fingers around the square container.
The pile was constructed into an odd shape in the first place, meaning I didn't need to worry about placing the boxes perfectly in line to each other. Rushing so not to be caught, I stacked more and more boxes into two, side by side, parallel columns.
With the walls done I took a step back and examined my work. It wasn't bad, and most definitely wouldn't be easily noticed. I took one leaping step into the middle of the tiny space and, twisting around to face the other boxes, pulled two large crates from their positions and blocked the opening with them.
Knowing they - whoever they were - were about to round the corner by the loud footfalls I swiftly yanked two more boxes from behind me and placed them atop the other two at the wanna be doorway.
Crouching down I sucked in an unsteady breath and crossed my fingers. As if crossing my fingers would actually help. I mean, come on, what are they going to say, " I'm gonna kill y- Ah darn, you crossed your fingers." My lips cracked into a grin and I flung my hand up to stifle an uncontrolled giggle.
I froze realizing they had stopped when they reached the 4-way. I peeked through a crack in the wood and my heart jumped into my throat. There were two of them, both dressed in dark green and black as if they were ex-marine or something. And they were big. The cruel looks on their hard faces sent my heart plummeting with fear.
My eye twitched more furiously as they crept closer. My thoughts scattered as my mind began to race. So many thoughts circling like sharks; yet not one of them was clear enough to process. My breathing stopped as they steadily made progress towards my makeshift safe haven.
I wasn't safe, not at all. What if they knew? What if they knew where I am? What if they found me? The Semi-Automatics gripped in their hands told me what would happen when they found me. I'd be dead in a ditch on the side of Route One before the sun came up.
A tight panicky shiver snaked it's way down my spine. Just the thought of it scared the bejeebers out of me. I didn't want to die. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. Heck, if I was being really honest, I was just getting started with my life. There were so many wonderful exciting things I had left to do.
I hadn't even figured out the answer to Ms. Benlry's question. Maybe I'd never be able to give her a direct answer. Maybe I'd never even make it out of this ally, let alone make it home. Memories and regrets flooded me.
All the things I never said. Everything I had planned to do. The places I wanted to go to. It all seemed so......far away. As if I was in a whole different dimension. A new era of time. I was going to die.
And no one would know. Maybe no one would even care. JJ and Kate might, but I disappeared all the time. It'd be forever before they realized I was gone, not out of their lives for just for a little while, but forever. Tears pricked my eyes, and I quickly blinked them away.
No. I would not die tonight. If it came down to it I would fight. But really, how long would I last against two ex-marines. They could still be in the marine corps. They might not even be Marines. They could quite possibly be special forces or Navy Seals or Green Berets.
They were getting closer with every second's pass. Twenty feet..........fifteen feet...........ten feet........nine feet.......eight feet......seven feet........six feet. Moving quicker and quicker with each step as if they somehow knew right where I was. As if they knew I was trapped, caged by my own makings.
An intense uneasiness entered my stomach, subtle at first until it grew to a prioritize recurring pain. Fear pushed to the surface making my palms clammy and my face, I'm sure of it, a deathly pale.
My dirty blonde hair was dark compared to my skin, seemingly giving me the impression of a vampire from Twilight. Time seemed to stop as they crept closer, assurance in their eyes and a grim set to their lips.
The one on the right, with vibrant green eyes and sandy blonde hair, looked to the other, with dark brown hair and almost black eyes, as if asking permission. Oh no. Not good. Brown Eyes gave a curt nod and leveled his gun at my cover.
My breath hitched at the sudden screeching sound that came from in front of me. A nail sticking out of the wooden crate scratched against the wood that lay beneath. My muscles reacted without command, tensing at first, then, with shock and survival instincts taking over completely, jumped into action.
Instantly I flew back, hitting the back of my head hard on the wooden slats standing firm behind me. I fell back against the boxes that soon gave way under the weight. The somewhat neatly stacked pile was now in shambles, falling down on and around me in a heap.
The noisy ruckus startled Green Eyes making him instinctively jump back, but didn't even bother Brown Eyes. The nerve. I was scared speechless and he was acting like there wasn't a care in the world. As if this was just an everyday occurrence, which, for him, probably was.
My train of thought ceased to a halt as a sharp pain stabbed into my right leg, another in my left shoulder blade. The physical damage was nothing compared to the emotional torment. I was going to die. Tonight. At the hands of these crooks. There were better, more honorable ways to go than this. But I didn't want to go. I had so much more to do. So many plans to carry out. And now none of it would happen. I didn't even have the chance to say goodbye to my family. Not that it'd even matter to them. Even now, with so much time passed, the hatred they held that day would never fade. The insults flew from their lips like built up water in a dam. Almost as if they'd been waiting to let free the degrading comments.
And what about Kate and JJ? Kate, coming from an excessively dysfunctional family herself, knew where I was coming from. Her dad had walked out on her the day of her fourth birthday and even after so long the words he'd said still echoed in all our ears. We were just old enough to begin our childhood memories.
The first actual memory Kate could recall was of him throwing nothing less than a temper tantrum, as I was doing now, flailing my arms and legs about and screaming random things that came to mind. Song lyrics, yummy foods, funny captions I'd read on graphic Tees. You name it, I screamed it.
I think I even said Banana Cat once. The two weirdo's face contorted as if saying 'What the heck is wrong with you, crazy lady'. Guess I had that effect on people. Ha.
Green Eyes fumbled for my hands while Brown Eyes grabbled for my feet. Green Eyes' iron grip caught my wrists and held tightly, apparently not wanting to go through the routine again. Finally, after a bit of hostile moving and some colorful cursing, Brown Eyes latched onto both my ankles like vise grips.
I jerked around as they pulled up, clearing the ground by at least two feet, with ease. A look of boredom crossed Green Eyes' sharp features. "Will you shut up? It'd make this a lot easier for the both of us."
I opened my mouth to argue, a line of insults ready to fly at any given notice, thought better of it and snapped it shut. I might just take his advice. For now. I yanked and twisted, kicked and clawed, punched and smacked, but nothing worked.
My feet were still off the ground and the throbbing pain in my leg and shoulder had now become constant. Tears pricked my eyes, threatening to break through and embarrass me. Blinking hard I looked around at my surroundings trying to locate where I was or where they might be taking me.
Brown Eyes put both my ankles in one hand and reached behind him, pulling out a walkie-talkie from one of many pockets on his black cargo pants. I glared into the depthless shades of brown catching hints of black within.
A short crackle came from the walkie-talkie before Brown Eyes said flatly, "We got her. Bring the van around to Kin Kan. And hurry. She's feisty." Fiesty? FIESTY?! They were going to kill me, and he's calling me FIESTY?!?!
"Yeah, well you ain't seen feisty until somebody tries to steal my cookies. That's when I'm feisty." I muttered under my breath, still wiggling around like a five-year-old having a hissy fit. Which I guess wasn't far from the truth. In age, I was 19, in attitude I really did act like I was five. Sometimes even three.
Green Eyes looked down at me, an amused look on his features, his jaw clenched as if trying not to laugh. "What are you looking at, you overgrown Leprechaun!?" I yelled at him. He just broke into a fit of laughter. He actually had the guts to laugh. Now. Holding me above the ground against my will.
The boy was an idiot. That much could be concluded. Although, now that I thought about it, what I said was a bit hilarious. Even in the worst of times I still said some funny things. As if they couldn't care less about my struggling, they walked around the broken shards of wood and headed for Kin Kan street like no one would stop them. And perhaps no one wouldn't.
Olivia had looked terrified. She also said this was the third time in a matter of two weeks. A sick feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. I began tapping the fingers of my right hand on my left wrist right above the pulse. I was counting how many times I tapped, how many seconds went by, and how many steps they took. I needed to calm myself down before I went into a panic attack.
My mind was made for multitasking, with an Iadetic and photographic memory, the ability to remember every single little detail helped out a lot. "Stop that." Brown Eyes demanded calmly. My tapping had become a steady audible thump.
"I'm trying to calm down," I replied with a bossy smirk gracing my dry lips. " I don't think I want to stop yet so you'll just have to wait a while until I do." Two could play this 'completely calm and thinking clearly' game.
Walking, or floating would be a better term for me, up to Kin Kan street the low rumble of an engine drifted back to me. Help? Maybe they would stop! Two guys carrying one very uncooperative girl would look pretty freaking suspicious if you ask me.
The shiny black SUV rolled past without the slightest tap of the breaks. Just my luck. Coming to the end of the dark alley I checked my everything going on around me once again. I was so not even close to pro level, but seeing the exact same SUV parked not twenty feet from where we stood was obviously not good for me.
Backdoors on both sides slid open to reveal four more men in all black suits. Brown Eyes set my feet on the ground and exchanged my wrists from Green Eyes' hands to his own. Green Eyes trotted to the van and climbed inside.
Brown Eyes flipped me around so that my back faced him and urged me forward. Digging my shoes into the concrete I stood my ground. I was a Blade. And Blades absolutely did not break. Not even crack. Ever. No. Matter. What.
"Work with me here and it won't hurt so bad." Brown Eyes informed me. Noting the slight incline in his voice I slowly took a baby step towards the vehicle. Maybe a little fracture. Noticing the 8'' Fillet Knife on Brown Eyes left hip I focussed in on my breathing, blocking out all other activity going on around me.
Okay, I said to myself, I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I repeated over and over. With much effort, thanks to Brown Eyes strength, I pulled my hands together and tapped the fingers of my right hand on the wrist of my left arm.
Feeling my pulse was like an out-of-body experience. It was slow. It was calm. It was freaking me out. Should my heart rate be so steady? Shouldn't it be hovering right below stroke level? Shouldn't I be panicking? Shouldn't I be fighting against him? Against them?
The questions went on like a Nascar race, circling my mind like an endless track. Another step. Shouldn't I be worried? Shouldn't I scream for help until my throat's raw? Shouldn't I be making deals with God?
Third step, fourth step, fifth step...
What about Kate and JJ? What about my dad and brother? My other relatives? What about Dox, the husky Kate took care of? Or Frisky, JJ's beloved little kitten? What about Roman, my brother from another mother?
Sixth step, seventh step, eighth step...
The street lights above the SUV flickered on and off and on again, giving the scenery an eerie feel.
Ninth step, tenth step, eleventh step...
Coming to the open door of the cab I could see the inside had been stripped. No seats. No dome lights. No speakers. Nothing. Green Eyes stalked over, grabbed my shaking hands, and pulled me into the not-so-luxurious backseat.
Behind me, Brown Eyes slid closed the door and angled himself into the front passenger seat. Green Eyes guided me into the corner behind the driver's seat and pointed to the spot next to an unconscious, bound, and bloody Olivia.
I flopped onto the floor and rested my face in the crook of my bent knees.
"Bad day?" Green Eyes asked from across the cramped space.
Have you ever heard the phrase 'think before you speak'? Yeah, me neither. "I've only moved into an apartment in a new city, took a tour of my new neighborhood, been caught in a rainstorm, taken hostage in an armed robbery at a local bakery, and have now been kidnapped by the Three Stooges. No, not bad at all, you dipstick." I retorted smoothly.
"Now I know I've met you before." Olivia mumbled, still sounding a little groggy from her nap.
Green Eyes only response was a smirk, though his vibrant eyes held little amusement. I shifted in vain to remove the piece of jagged metal digging into my sore back. One of Green Eyes' companions, a short guy dressed in an All-black suit complete with the glossy shoes, scoured the shelves along the back.
Finally finding what he wanted he turned to face us and, holding up zip ties and a thick roll of leopard print duct tape, grinned at us. Or more specifically me, since Olivia was still walking the fence of reality and La La Land.
"One. More. Step." I said through gritted teeth, "And you won't see the light of tomorrow's rising sun." My face was stone cold dead. And you know what? He laughed. Laughed as if what I said was the funniest thing in the world.
And guess what else? He took exactly one more step. Payback's a witch, revenge is sweet, I'm the sweetest witch you'll ever meet. Wow, if only my ELA teacher could see me now. Her jaw would drop, and for once, she'd be utterly speechless.
My stone cold dead face cracked a grin when my creative imagination conjured up the picture of her reaction to my proper grammar and rhyming syllables. Peering blankly out the window opposite me, bad guy #3 made another mistake by stepping closer.
I turned my death glare back to him, then contorted my face to express my thoughts of ' Really? You're that stupid?'. I stuck my tongue out at him and made the last move. I kicked my too light for my taste boot at him. The sole hit both his eyes, tearing the retina, taking his vision away for the time being.
If he was smart enough (or stupid enough, depending on how you look at it) He'd go to the hospital right away. If he was very lucky, the Docter on duty would be able to reattach the retina, giving him the privilege of sight.
Green Eyes' jumped up and pointed an AK47, Where'd he even get that? at me. The other three men followed suit. To test the waters of their patience, I stuck my tongue out at them. It was very assuring when Green Eyes lowered the gun and gave me a stern look as if warning a child about sticking their hand in the cookie jar.
The entire episode had taken maybe a minute. The car careened to the right, throwing my head back against the immobile door that had served as a backrest for me earlier. The sudden force sent black dots spiraling through my vision.
The driver made a hard left, this time tossing everyone in the backseat to the right side.
"What's going on up there?" Green Eyes hollered, alarm coating his once calm voice.
My sight became hazy and when I looked around me everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Somehow Olivia had landed on top of me. I tried moving my left hand to pull her off but the second I made movement pain shot up through my whole arm, centering in on my wrist and shoulder.
I cried out as a piece of jagged metal went through the right side of my lower abdomen. Blood seeped from the fresh wound, soaking my shirt and puddling beneath me. Suddenly it felt I was soaring through the air. I had always wanted to see the world through an eagle's view. And wow was it an amazing sight.
The ringing in my ears was so loud I had to concentrate deeply to hear the steady drumming of my heart. The wind tousled my hair, bringing with it the smell of burnt motor oil and smoked rubber. Knowing what would come next, I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed to make it out of this mess alive.
Coming into contact with the blacktop felt like nothing more than a light smack. Although that light smack had knocked the air from my lungs. The numbness slowly subsided; leaving behind the immense pain to rule my tired body. Tears blurred my vision as I fought off the darkness consistently swiping away at my consciousness.
The heat rose from the pavement in waves; warming my chilled skin but doing nothing for my insides. The bright lights above me turned fuzzier as my eyelids grew extremely heavy. Sirens sounded in the distance, coming closer with each passing second. Before anyone had the chance to arrive at the scene, I, very reluctantly, succumbed to the deep sleep that nagged at my exhausted body.

Temporary Amnesia

Beep! beep! beep! What was the noise that dared to wake me from my much-needed sleep? I will find you. And I will kill you, I thought now very irritated. Slowly, I blinked my eyes open, only to have them assaulted by the overly bright lights all around. Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeep! The high-pitched beeping seemed to reverberate in my ears. I quickly closed my eyes; shielding them from the blinding glare. Where was I?
I strained to recall the events of last night. My memory was in bits and pieces and extremely fuzzy. What had happened? Did I run into something, again? Oh geez, if I ran into something again they'd never let me live it down.
My head was pounding vigorously, making my brain feel more like a ticking time bomb rather than an idea projector. The unsteady beeping drove me to madness. "Shut up! Can't you see I'm trying to get some sleep here? Ugh, you're even making my headache worse!" I snapped in the direction of the nonliving machine. That'll work. Totally going to listen to me and do as I say.
My rant turned quickly into a coughing fit; inflaming my sore, dry throat. Pain shot through me as I began to elevate myself into a sitting position. I fluttered my crystal blue eyes open again in an attempt to figure out where I was exactly. The door burst open and in came JJ and Kate with worry and shock etched clearly into their stunning features.
"Hey." I croaked, my last cough dying down. I looked up and was immediately enveloped in a warm hug. Kate stood to my left; JJ on my right determined to squeeze the very life out of me in her iron band hold. "Can't breathe," I muttered in her ear, causing her to jump back.
Tears pooled in JJ's eyes, threatening to spill over and smear her perfectly done mascara. I turned my head back to Kate and saw a much different reaction. Her face was dead. No emotion whatsoever could be seen. Her rich emerald eyes were dull and stared directly at me yet seemed to see nothing of me.
"Soooo..." I said, hoping they would get the message and explain what had happened. I quickly glanced back and forth, searching their faces for clues. Nothing seemed to jump out at me, so I leaned my head back into the poofy pillow behind me and released the tension in my shoulders. The intense pain had faded slightly; a dull ache setting into place.
"Soooooo....." I tried again with the same result, silence. A heavy sigh escaped my chapped lips, stirring the stray strands of hair shading my tired eyes. After continuously racking my brain, I came up with nothing. The door opened slowly to reveal a woman dressed in a long white doctor's coat that hung loosely over a pastel blue button up. Her white sneakers were silent as she walked across the gleaming tile floor with purpose.
She studied her clipboard with diligent green eyes. Stepping around Kate she looked up at me with a tense face. "How do you feel?" She asked in a voice as smooth as silk. I stared at her blankly. How did I feel? I felt like trash. Worn out and ripped up trash.
"Good." I lied through my teeth. My state could be explained by nothing less than plowed with a freight train going 1000mph loaded to the max.
Her gaze never left mine as she said in the direction of Kate and JJ, "I'm going to have to ask you two to leave. Visiting hours are over, so go home and get some rest." Though reluctant to walk away, they complied with the doctor's wishes.
The door closed softly behind them, the sound seemed to reverberate off the walls, Through the glass, I managed to catch JJ look back one last time before finally striding down the hall. The doctor let out a long breath still staring at me like was a rat in some 7th graders science experiment.
"Alright, how do you really feel?" She asked, concern tangled in her soothing voice. I glanced down, unable to look her in the eyes, to see her white-knuckle grip on a red pen hovering over the clipboard as if ready to write notes on the semester test.
"What time is it?" I asked, dodging her question.
"Eleven at night. Now, answer my question. How do you feel?" She replied with a forced smugness in her bright smile. She knew what I was doing.
"Honestly? Like I just got trampled by a stampede of angry bulls." I stated quickly, just wanting to get this over with. And find out what happened.I really wanted - No, I needed - to know what went down last night.
She set her clipboard on the bedside table and stepped towards a table that held multiple monitors of all kinds. I narrowed my eyes at the rude beeping machines. I mean, really, waking me up from my peaceful slumber for no apparent reason? Who does that? What does that? I'll tell you what does that, those rude little robots.
Going through what looked like a well-practiced routine, she clicked buttons, tapped screens, and flipped switches, finally silencing the highly irritating devices. Turning on her heel she leaned on the table and eyed me carefully.
"You don't recognize me, do you?" She said, hands propped on the counter behind her. My mind went into a turmoil. Who was she?She looked slightly familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Did I recognize her from somewhere? Had I met her before? Bumped into her while on my expedition around the neighborhood?
After much deep thought, I came up with nothing. My face creased into a frown as I slowly shook my pounding head. "No." I answered with reluctance. It was right beneath the surface. So close to remembering.
A small smile played at her lips, seeping into her depthless eyes. "No? Well, maybe I should just take those stitches out of your lip then, aye?" She joked before pushing off the table and walking around to the other side of the bed.
"What stitches?" Was my immediate reply. "Oh. Those stitches." I dragged on, eyes widening, as the realization hit full-force. Josie. Cat-fight. Stitches. This was the nurse that had bandaged me up after my not-so-little scuffle with Arch-enemy Josie Wulf. (That's pronounced wolf, by the way)
On instinct, I lightly touched my index finger to my barely swollen bottom lip, wincing when the pain flared. I looked back up at her, searching her lightly tanned face for answers. No way did I get hurt this much from one fight. No way am I still in the hospital from a few hits to the face.
Josie was in worse shape than I was when we had finally broken apart. Bits and pieces floated around my brain in a dreamlike state. A face appeared, dark and serious. A girl, with curly brown hair and pretty hazel eyes.
"What happened? Why am I still here? I should be gone by now." I whispered, dropping my hand into my lap. Silently, I stared into the abyss unable to focus as I daydreamed.
"Oh, honey, you don't remember, do you?" She asked, worry and concern decorating her face. I dramatically threw my hands into the air and heaved a slightly exasperated sigh.
"Enough with the riddles and questions. Just spill the beans already." I said, "What went down last night?"
"Nothing." She replied. Huh?
"What do you mean nothing? Obviously, something happened, or I wouldn't be here right now. And what's with all these alarms going off? I can't sleep with so much noise!" I whined.
"Nothing happened last night. You've been out for a couple weeks now. You gave us all a good scare with the way your health was dropping. You're two friends there, they've been camped out in the waiting room since they found out. Do you remember anything? Know why you're here? Can you tell me what happened?" She spoke up.
Um, hello, have you been ignoring me? If I knew what had happened, I wouldn't have asked, duh. "I really don't remember anything. That's why I asked. Why am I here? And what are you talking about, out for weeks? What's going on?" I answered her questions with my own.
"Two weeks ago you were brought in by the ambulance because you were in a car accident. The reason for the accident is still unknown. You were severely injured during the crash and had to be taken into surgery almost immediately. Though you've had some time to heal, you're going to have to take it easy for a few more days. The three ribs that were cracked have gone down to a bruise. The gouge in your right hip is just starting to close up. Your left shoulder blade will be very sore for a while longer. And your let wrist has a minor fraction. You're lucky, could've been a lot worse." She went on to explain when and how to change the bandages.
Apparently, I'd have to change the one covering my shoulder three to four times a week. The wrapping on my ribs would need to be switched out every other day. My wrist was clad in a small cast that I could not remove until I consulted with a doctor. My lower abdomen was a simple butterfly bandage in which I'd have to change every time I redid the wrap on my ribcage.
I'd have to write this down as soon as I arrived back to my apartment or I'd get it all mixed up. "Alright, well I'll go process the paperwork so you can get out of here." She said before briskly walking out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I leaned my head on the wall behind the bed and groaned. This was going to be a long week. Not to mention it'd take a toll on my insurance. Only a little over a year and already I was in a car accident. Bet that would look great on my record. Please note the sarcasm.
The door opened but my eyes didn't. Sleep was calling my name; tempting me to succumb to its peaceful darkness. My eyes felt like heavy bricks, becoming harder to open with each passing second. I could feel my tense muscles slowly easing into relaxation. I began slipping away; Falling into the dark abyss.
My eyes flew open as my breathing went rigid. I had been falling. The sensation fast and swift. The air seemed to push on my body, before changing course and rushing around my sides. The images of my vivid dream faded into nothing, and just as quickly as I had panicked over the horrible sights, I was calmed.
I reached up and wiped the fine sheen of cold sweat from my forehead with a clammy, shaking hand. The well-lit room surrounding me was silent with the exception of an air vent in the far corner, close to the floor. I closed my eyes and took in a long breath. The scent of fragrant flowers, particularly smelling of Lilac, assaulted my senses.
"Enjoying yourself?" Nurse ------- asked from across the room. I fluttered my eyes open to see her standing by the closed door. A small smile played at my lips while I nodded my head at her in a soft ocean-like movement.
"Here." She stated, handing me a bundle of crisp papers. " Fill these out and you can go." I stared down at the sharp black print. I nodded my head at her once more. I looked up, about to ask her for a pencil, when she held out a thick red pen with chrome colored accents.
"Thanks." I slipped the pen from her loose grasp and poised it over the first question. Reading quickly, I answered all the questions with ease. Double checking for any mistakes, I saw none. "Okay. I'm done." I told her as she took the pen and papers from me and began scanning them herself.
"Alrighty." She chimed happily, "You may go. The bathroom is right over there," She pointed towards a door in the opposite corner of the air vent that I hadn't noticed, " Your belongings are in there. I'll sign you out, so don't worry about that." With that, she marched out of the room.
I padded over to the bathroom and opened the door. Stepping in I could see there was a polished marble sink, a large mirror splayed above it. The toilet was beside the sink. A gigantic plastic bag sat on top of the counter.
I swept up the bag and pulled out my clothes, mp3 and earphones, black and green backpack, belt, wallet, and boots. Changing out of the nightgown and into comfortable clothing took a little over ten minutes. Sliding on my sunglasses, I smirked.
My blond hair looked the likes of a rat's nest. Untamed and out of control. my back and pulled out my black and white skull bandana. Throwing my head forward, I flung my hair in front of me and placed my bandana on my neck. Bringing my head back up I let my hair fall into place before I tied it up into a ponytail with the bandana.
Checking myself in the mirror I contemplated if The Little House On The Prarie look was for me. Considering my other choices, I opted to go with the makeshift ponytail. Slinging my backpack over one shoulder, I strode out of te bathroom, to the big white door, and away from the room entirely.
The halls were bustling with various activity. Carts stacked sky high with personal hygiene products, Doctors speaking to nurses, and police taking statements crowded the hospital halls. I drifted through the crowd in a daze.
Everything around me seemed to take forever. Noises as quiet as a brush of wind were like ear'splitting screams inside my ears. The top notch lights were so much brighter than they were in my room.
The heat was almost overwhelming as I followed the emerald green exit signs. Finally coming out to an open space looking the likes of a lobby, I searched for the clean glass doors. I spotted them at the other end of the room, surprised to see the sun hadn't come up yet.
Shuffling to the exit, I caught sight of Nurse Jones talking to an FBI Agent.  What happened for FBI to get involved; must be serious. Pushing my way through the hospital doors, the wonderful city air cleansed my skin, bringing with it the scent of tacos.
Taking in a deep breathe I started down the sidewalk. I looked up at the early morning sky; The sun hadn't come up for its day shift yet, leaving the stars in charge for the time being. Taking another step I looked back to the sidewalk.
People were shuffling about; running errands, getting groceries, grabbing coffee and a quick bite to eat. I decided to head towards Dunkin Donuts to grab something for breakfast since I wasn't feeling up to making anything myself.
Closing in on the local bakery, pain began to flare in my hip and shoulder. Suddenly it felt I'd been stabbed with a red hot knife. My knee felt weaker with every step until at last it went completely numb and I fell hard to the concrete below.

Upside Down World

My mind quickly recovered from its immediate black out but went directly into a turmoil of...dreams? No, I was awake. Delusions? Nope, I wouldn't have blacked out first. Flashbacks? Perhaps. From what though? I hadn't experienced any of these scenarios. Or had I? It felt so real, so life-like. Like I had been there, seen it with my own eyes, had actually gone through it. This was different. This was similar to an out-of-body experience. Like I had been there, but I wasn't me. The images took over completely and my train of thought stopped in its tracks. Logical curiosity was replaced with overwhelming fear and..determination? Blood. There was blood. And screams. Horrifying,spine-tingling screams. Which was what I was hearing, in some far off distant dimension from the dreamland I was in now. It was like being underwater, I could hear the noise but couldn't make out the words. The frantic tone caught my attention further. The voice sounded foreign to me. I slipped back into my La La land and felt my breathing escalate. The fog cleared ever so slowly and I began to gain feeling throughout my body. The pain turned to a dull throb.

I opened one eye and, seeing that everything was fine, opened the other. A woman stood before me. Well, leaned over me. Her dark brown hair shielded my eyes from dawns bright light. Concern etched into the wrinkles around her mouth. She was speaking but the words said were left unknown to me as I attempted to sit up. Black spots dotted my vision. I couldn't decide if we t was the pain, lack of muscle, or the exhaustion racking my body. I paused then swiftly stood to my feet and put a hand over my eyes. Head beginning to pound and ears already ringing like church bells, I looked up and focused on what the woman was saying. "Are you okay?" She asked once more. I gave her my best smile probably looking like a crazed lunatic of sorts, and waved my hand dismissively. She pressed her lips together but said nothing as she swooped down and collected my bag. She adjusted her large brown purse and continued on her way. Well, I guessed Dunkin Donuts was out of the question now. Not to mention JJ would kill me if I told her I had a blackout and then went to Dunkin Donuts.

The rest of the walk was easy peasy, unless tripping over my own feet every time I caught a glimpose of a black SUV counted as an inconvenience. A nostalgic feeling bloomed when I neared the stained brick of my apartment building.Dried soot coated the edges of my room, but the middle was all new red brick. The familiar cinnamon smell evaded my senses, sending me into the past few days. Or was it weeks sinceI'd been in the hospital? I shook my head to clear away the memories and waddled up to the concrete pad, through the door, into the lobby. Dylan say behind his desk, reading a new book. He looked up and smiled slightly just as I reached the stairs. I did a little wave back and hurried up the stairs, embarrassed. The numbers marking each room went unnoticed. I knew right where to go. Even though I had only lived here a couple weeks, at most, it felt like home. Which was really saying a lot, considering I never stopped moving around during my childhood. Ha. Childhood. As if it could be classified as that miuch.

Opening the heavy door, all feeling of familiarity vanished. I didn't recognize the wall running alongside the door, or the shelf sitting below the cut out space in it. The door at the end of the hallway was a deep brown, like the walls. I walked in and tapped the door with my foot, closing it with only a light thud echoing after. I dropped my bad to the side and leaned back, closing my eyes. This was it. The whole layout had been changed. It was finished and ready. But was I? JJ had spent months designing it obsessing over each detail. Kate had discussed the components and took her time getting the best of the best. Would it be abstract? Contemporary? Modern? Old fashioned? Oh wow, the options were endless and anybody who knew JJ knew she loved mixing the most opposing ideas to make strange masterpiece. A quiet laugh escaped my parted lips.

It was JJ and Kate. They knew me better than I knew myself. Of coarse the apartment was going to be outstanding. I walked down the short hall to the mystery door. I turned the brass colored handle and pulled it open all the way. A wooden bar ran along the top, a few hangers dangling in the air. I should have seen that coming. JJ was constantly telling me to pick up my jackets and bags. Goodness, she acted more like my mother than my friend. I closed the door softly and turned on my heel. A large bookshelf covered the wall. In front of it sat a circular table complete with four french bistros. A glass vase of azaleas positioned in the center. The walls were brown with admiral and crimson dots. The floors had remained untouched gleaming in all their oak glory.

I walked past the living room without looking over and pushed open the western style swinging doors and stepped in. The room was nicely furnished with black granite counter tops attached to cedar wood blocks with cabinets cut into them. a stainless steel french door refrigerator sat in the far left corner. a stainless steel stove top oven in the far right corner, against a counter instead of the wall. A short counter, with a bank of drawers under the granite slab, separated the two. The, once again, stainless steel microwave was mounted on the wall above the stove.In front of the refrigerator ran a longer, rectangular counter stopping three feet from a floor-to-ceiling cupboard holding canned goods, bottled spices, a variety of dried fruits, vegetables, and meats, stainless steel canisters containing dry foods from sugar to cashews, tubs of extracts, oils, butter, and shortening. The walls were crimson red, intricate designs were done in brown and robins egg blue. A large painting of a blood red Chevelle ran along the wall, following the longer counter. Parallel to that was yet another L-shaped wrap around counter ending just inches from the doorway. In the center of it all was a rectangular bar type island complete with black leather and stainless steel bar stools. My jaw just about hit the floor. I turned on my heel and shimmied back through the doors.

 Just about turned into full blown. My couch was in its original place, but each and every item surrounding had been flipped altogether. A black and white swirly rug held an oval double decker coffee table. Black wood encasing spotless glass lava lamp. Underneath, an enclosed shelf provided the newest magazines. Beyond it sprawled agrand showcase of a flat screen tv, PS4 gaming console, CD player with aux option, and two enormous speakers. A window had been cut into the wall on the far side, looking out over the parking lot. Admiral blue curtains hung gracefull from above. A desk, with 3 drawers on each side, two of which were filing cabinets, was pushed up against the wall below. I n a daze I padded to the bathroom. A brass colored door handle had been put in. Trim board lined the walls and mirror, making it pop. The sink was finished off with a marble countertop. Gleaming white tile surrounded the shower. Splashes of light blue splotched the walls clshing and contrasting with the shamrock green backdrop. A smile plastered itself on my face. I was far beyond satisfied; I was overflowing with joy and pride. Pride that they had done so amazing. I went the rest oif the way to my room on the verge of dumbstruck.

After I flipped the light on LED strips greeted me from within their grooves. They were dimmer than the previous one. I almost squeeled. Since bright lights hurt my eyes, I tended to avoid them at all cost. I ran and, careful not to hurt my self, flopped on my bed, reveling in the plush cloud. I blinked a few times, each one getting harder to open my eyes...

Good Cop Bad Cop

A loud,swift knock at the door awoke me from my deep slumber. A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand told me I had been out for a little over an hour. Wow. Talk about night owl. I shook my head to terminate the drowsiness. I stomped my way to the front door, cursing when I stubbed my toe on the hallway. Without peeking through the hole I threw the door open and leaned on it, already opening my mouth to warn JJ or Kate to remove themselves from my sight before I did something they wouldn't be fond of.

 "Mrs. Blade?"

My eyes flew open at the unknown voice. The first thing to register were the shiny black guns. Second, were the badges they were holding up. A woman who looked to be in her late thirties was smiling smugly down at me. The man towering over her wore a ruthless pokerface and flawlessly tailored black suit. A little more than embarrassed I closed my mouth with a snap and folded my arms across my chest.

 The woman smiled politely, but the coldness still shielded her eyes from emotion. "May we come in? We have a few questions to ask, it won't take long." It sounded routine, as if she had said it far too many times in her mirror.

I took a dubious step back with my eyes still trained on them and offered my best nonchalant hand wave I could manage. The man nodded curtly while tucking his badge back in its place and took lead, stalking through the doorway with a small duck of his head. The woman followed, looking around casually. I turned on my heel and padded into the dining area with an elegance only attained from years of ballet.

----Conversation---

History of Ice

Told history of Black Ice by MB

 Hands poised on the window sill, I watched the agents converse sparsely as they took their places in the gleaming SUV. Once the doors were closed I squinted to see them. Relief washed over me in waves until the spookiness of their visit faded to the back burner. I continued watching until they disappeared onto the street, mixing with traffic after a few short seconds. I spotted them again when they turned the corner onto Plum Street, towards town. JJ would be off work early today to prepare for her hot date. Knock! Knock! I jumped faintly and turned my back on the window to see who it was this time.

My shoes smacked off the hardwood floor with a light thump and seemed to echo quietly when I walked down the hallway. Ascending to my tippy toes to check the peephole, Ms. Benlry came into view, swamped by a large white bowl covered in tin foil. I grinned, popped the lock, and let the door swing open as I motioned her inside.

"How are you, dear? I haven't seen you in ages! Goodness, when Jessica told me you were in an accident, I almost had a heart attack!" She put the large bowl on the dining table and turned to examine me.

My smile descended into a grimace. "I feel better than I look, I promise"

"Better. You look like you were dru through the mud and left for dead," She pursed her lips as if to say more.

I offered to take her shawl, but she dismissed the idea and turned to take off the tin foil.

I strided to the kitchen fo bowls and spoons, taking only a moment to shut the radio off.

 

Girls Night Out

Girls night out with Kate and JJ

"Alright, come on!" JJ grabbed my hand and led me down the hall to my room despite my rough protests. Disgust coloured her face while she rummaged through my closet. Fashionista blood refused to run through my veins.

Trickling Nightmare

Guy in parking lot - Sleep over

Dam's about to bust

Break in

Passing Notes

Find note and go to business place controlled by Black Ice

Out of Sight Out of Mind

Disappear

Opposites Attract

Ruin business deal - Set fire to warehouse

Getting Into Character

New car and such

A Little Knowledge Never Hurt Anyone

Read Articles

Bouquet In A Graveyard

Find their Mark - Flashbacks

Walk through the park

Go to park read other articles/research

Spreads Like A Wildfire

Sets fire to 4 warehouses

Walking On Thin Ice

Sets fire to other warehouses

Unfinished Business

''Freak Accident'' with Kate Destroy Leader's house

Covert Clients

Go to a hometown business and find documents of Clients

Tunnels Under The Town

Find map of underground system- Get Caught- Run through system

Peek-A-Boo

Surpirse attack on pursuers

Case Closed

Uncover Operatives

Piece of cake

 Back at bakery for cake - Leave question unanswered

 

Parts and pieces don't read

 Me? I had swords, daggers, knives, and practically anything and everything else attached to a blade. My boots were made custom for me with sheaths built right into the black leather, placed strategically around the ring at the top, three along one side; three along the other, plus one in back and one in front. Eight knives inside each boot. Inside. As in more on the outside.

 

 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 06.07.2016

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