Edge of Darkness
The streetlamps passed at irregular intervals. Some were blown out; others were winking on and off then on again as the Toyota Prius made its way down the deserted, dark road. It seemed that every time the car would pass under a small beacon of light it left the car, as well as the two passengers inside, exposed to the dangers of the night.
We were definitely in the wrong side of town, but Delia had said that it was the only way she knew how to get to and from Abby's lake house. Abby being one of our good friends we both went to school with, but whom also seemed to be good friends with everyone. It always left me wondering if she was truly genuine about who she was or if she just pretended in order to say she had friends. Either way, I had always liked her. She had thrown a party for graduating seniors in her parents' small, but quaint vacation home. More than just the senior class had shown up. Juniors, sophomores, a few freshmen, and possibly even some college kids who had attended our high school the year prior had been there. It had been way too crowded in the small house with just the group that Abby had already invited. It was downright claustrophobic after the rest of the school and then some managed to find their way there and show up. It had taken Delia and me a two hour drive to get there, but it seemed to take us twice that amount of time to find our way back. Despite being reprimanded by Abby, giving us personal directions and a map herself, we had taken several wrong turns which made me smack a hand to my face and grind my teeth together every time.
"Okay, when I say turn right next time, Di, you make a freaking right-hand turn," I said to Delia in an agitated voice. I threw the map on the dashboard, using my now free hands to rub my temples. I was tired of riding in the car and was giving myself an ulcer worrying about the part of town we had ended up in.
"Whatever you do, do not stop this car," I had warned her earlier when we had first made our way into the city. Delia had just flashed me an apologetic look. She had missed our turn for the interstate about an hour or so ago, claiming she knew where she was going only to get us lost before she found her way again; the same way we had come. Unfortunately, this way was not very favorable, but seeing as how we both didn't feel like turning around again to take the preferred route we risked going this way instead. It was faster, but it still had me sitting on the edge of my seat in paranoia.
"I don't even wanna know how you know your way around here."
"Okay, Mona. No need to crawl up my butt about it. I said I was sorry," she rolled her eyes at me. I flashed her a glare right back only to have it turn into a scowl as I noticed we were running out of gas.
"And of course, of all the places that we could run out of gas!" I exclaimed, and Delia instantly looked down at the gas gage before cursing.
"Look, right there," she said, pointing to a small, rundown gas station not even a mile up ahead. "It'll only take us five minutes and then we'll be back on the road. Nothing is going to happen, okay, Mona? We'll be fine."
"I guess we don't have much of a choice, anyway. Just hurry up, please."
We pulled up to the station and found a pump. Delia got out and hurriedly pulled out the pump to begin filling the car. Despite how much I tried to ignore it, I was parched as hell and felt like I needed water as I had never needed it before. I had drank a little too much at Abby's party and it left me feeling a bit woozy and dehydrated. Against my better judgment, I opened the door and stepped out of the car. A gust of cool air blew into me fiercely, and even though it was the middle of May it could still get well into the fiftie's at night. I pulled my jacket closer to my body.
"I'm going to get a bottle of water. Do you want anything?" I asked Delia as I shut the car door. She shook her head and turned her attention back to watching the price rise on the pump. I turned around and headed into the small store, grabbing a bottle of water as soon as I found one. There was a small line at the register, a man a few years older than myself buying some booze and a pack of cigarettes.
"Gas is freaking ridiculous," Delia said as she walked up to stand beside me. She had her wallet out ready to pay. I nodded my head before laying my head on her shoulder briefly. When the man in front of us began to gather his items, I started pulling out a couple of ones from my pocket when I heard tires screeching outside. I turned my head just in time to notice two mustangs, one black and the other red with tribal graphics on both, parked right in front of the store. Instantly, masked figures quickly got out of both cars and rushed inside, whipping out guns and yelling for everyone to get down.
I dropped my water bottle and latched onto Delia pulling her back against the counter behind me. I quickly pushed us to the right, unintentionally cornering us and the other customer.
"Get the fuck down or I'll blow your fucking head off. Get the fuck down!" yelled a man in a maroon ski mask, shoving a shotgun in our direction. "Joe, this is your man! This is your man! Get your fucking hands up!"
Delia and I both complied instantly, but the man before us was trying to sneak around and to the door.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" another robber yelled and grabbed the man, shoving him back towards us. He stood in front of both Delia and me now, his hands raised in defense. Suddenly, with such practiced motion it seemed to happen with barely any thought, the man in the maroon mask shifted his aim to his right and shot the cashier in the chest. Delia let out a bloodcurdling scream as the poor man fell to the floor, dead.
"This is your guy! Kill him or you're not one of us," he then said as he turned and grabbed the head of the man standing beside him. "You can do this," he whispered to him.
"Kill that motherfucker, Joey!" One of the other robbers yelled. Robbers. They weren't robbers. If they were, they could have grabbed the money or whatever they wanted right then and made off with it. Heaven knows that neither Delia nor I would try to stop them, and I doubted the man in front of us would either. He seemed to be shaking so hard it looked like he was trying to have a seizure. It was when the masked man supposedly named Joe whipped out a machete that I knew it was much more than a robbery.
"Oh my God," Delia whimpered, and buried her face in my hair. My eyes wide with terror, I stared at Joe and maroon face as they threw daggers with their eyes at the man in front of us.
"You can do this," he repeated again, pulling Joe's head back which made his eyes go wide and I could see a sense of hesitancy in them.
"Please, don't," I barely managed to whimper. Joe quickly shifted his eyes towards mine and I hoped that my facial expression was enough to give him more second thoughts, but much to my dismay he seemed to enjoy my terror. His eyes gained a new spark as he turned them back to the man before us and swiftly swung the machete up towards him. Simultaneously, I heard the man gurgle and felt a spray of hot blood cover my face.
"That's my boy," I heard the guy with the shotgun say to Joe.
Disgusted, I tried to step back as the man fell backwards and onto me and Delia. I grabbed him as he fell and Delia scampered out of the way which unknowingly put her directly in front of the gang of murderers. Hysterical and terrified, she foolishly made a dash for the door only to be caught by the throat of another gang member who slammed her up against the wall. I tried to get up to get to her, but the bleeding man, and not to sound ironic, had a death grip on my jacket. I stumbled and fell over him, blood covering me.
"Let her go!" I yelled as I struggled to get out of my jacket. The man pulled her forward before crushing her against the wall again and again; her blond hair billowing around her red face. "Delia!"
I flung my jacket at the now bleeding man, letting him have it to put pressure on his wound and rushed forward towards Delia and the man strangling her. I was suddenly hit hard in the chest which sent me flying backwards and onto my back. I looked up to see Joe standing above me, staring down with amused eyes and a fist raised to hit me again. Before he could make contact with me, I rolled to my right and up against a stand filled with snacks which sent them tumbling onto of me. I heard Joe's fist crack as it hit the floor and I couldn't help but feel a bit smug at his pain.
"Fuck!" he yelled and I jumped up to see him kneeling over his injured hand. I kicked him as hard as I could in the face.
He let out a grunt as my foot managed to make successful contact with his jaw. He ripped his mask off clutching it, his eyes boring murderously into mine. I stared at him long enough to remember his face before I turned my head to see that Delia's had turned purple and the man was still struggling with her. I ran to him and just barely made it onto his back, wrapping my right arm around his neck before maroon face could get a hit at me. I pulled back on his neck, pinching his carotid arteries with my arm, or so I hoped I was doing. I must have been doing something correct, anyway, because he instantly let a very purple Delia go who fell to the floor limply.
"You asshole!" I screamed at him as he stumbled around and tried to pry me loose from his neck.
"Get her off of me!" He yelled to his fellow gang members, his fist slamming into my strained arm. I felt someone's fist tangle in my curly hair and yank back. The pain was fierce and I yelped, involuntarily letting go to protect myself. I flew off of the man and against someone's hard, burly chest, their hand still tangled deeply in my hair, forcing my head backwards. I felt the machete pressed against my throat now.
"No, don't fucking cut her. I want a go at the bitch."
I turned my eyes to see the man who had strangled Delia rearing his fist back, getting ready to unleash his havoc upon me.
"Not so fast, Heco," the man who was holding me said. I recognized it as maroon face. By the way he commanded attention he must have been the gang leader. I felt my body pulsing with fright. I wanted to fight against this man's hold so badly, disgusted that I was this close to him, but his choice of weaponry held me firmly in place.
"We came here and got what we wanted," he spoke casually. "We've been here for too long. This bitch and her friend ain't worth it. As much as I would love to sit here, Heco, and watch you lose your temper, we are on restricted time here."
"I'll come for you later, puta," Heco reluctantly snarled at me before maroon face removed the pressure of the machete from my throat. His grasp still firm in my hair, he spun me towards the counter which he brought my head down upon forcefully. When I next opened my eyes, I was in the hospital.
Hello, everybody! This is a story I wrote a loooooong time ago. Anyway, I just randomly remembered it and thought I'd post it here. I posted it to another fanfiction site when I first wrote it, but I figured I could share it here as well. IDK how many DS fans there are out there, but if you find this I hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!