And here is Part 1 of an idea I've had running through my mind for a long time. I up and wrote it all out - a special thank you to Nai for proof reading it! Thanks girl!. I've got everything planned out and I'm practically middle of the way done with the next part. Thanks for waiting and my other stories have been typed on - just not fully edited and whatnot. I tell you that takes me absolutely FOREVER.
I hope you guys enjoy it. It was so much fun to write! See you at the bottom!
With a deep breath, Hitomi closed the damaged wooden door to the three-story apartment complex and pulled the collar of her leather jacket up on her neck. The night was a deep, icy black. Glancing up with worried green eyes, she looked for the moon through the draping trees. It was absent. A new moon. She was thankful there wasn't a race tonight. Grandma Nina always said a race with no moon meant trouble.
The cold wind tossed her short, brown hair and made the trees dance with a chilling whistling song. Suddenly, a cheerful trill sounded from her bag.
BOOPBOOP-BEE-BOOP… BOOPBOOP-BEE-BOOP…
Smiling absentmindedly at her cheesy ringtone, Hitomi skipped off the dangerously crumbling steps and swung her yellow satchel around her front. Fishing out her cellphone, she flipped in her password and saw the caller's name.
Speaking of trouble... She thought grimly before answering the call.
"Yes, old man?"
"Where are you!?" Pulling the phone away from her ear, she scowled.
"What do you mean? I'm leaving the apartment now. I was about to get my bike from the lot and meet up with grandma at the orphanage. Why?"
"You're leaving now?"
She rolled her green eyes. "That's what I just said. May I ask why this is a big deal?"
"Caesar announced a race! You should have been here two minutes ago!"
Hitomi almost dropped the phone. "What? But there was one last weekend! When? Where?"
"The start line is now on 88th South Street in the underground! Take the 35th exit off Highway 12! Get here now! We can't afford to lose! Do you have the collar?"
"Yeah, in my bag. You don't think he's making the stakes higher because there's less competition now, do you? Making the Masters work for the goal?"
"We can discuss all that later! Get your scrawny butt here! NOW! Make sure to signal Allen's group!"
"I'm on it, old man!" She shouted and hung up quickly before he could yell anymore. Plunging her phone into the satchel, she fished what looked like a thick, leather collar with long black wires and buckled it around her thin neck. Tucking the wires down her shirt, she pressed a small button on the buckle and raced off the jagged sidewalk towards her parked motorcycle. She unlocked the back and plopped her heavy bag into the back compartment. Securing a black helmet over her short-cropped hair, she kicked her racing bike alive and swiveled out onto the black streets.
She hoped Allen would make it on time.
Balgus swallowed down the growl that was rising in his throat and tucked the small phone in his pocket. Glancing in the mirror of the rundown bathroom, he straightened the dark wig that was flopping in an odd direction on his head. Pushing up the thin framed glasses on the bridge of his large nose, he made sure his fake controller was perfectly visible on his thick arm. It was an uncomfortable contraption that latched onto his forearm and stuck out like a painter's palette. It consisted of four metal switches on a top row and ten red buttons. The number 28 was branded into the handle. That was his Master's number.
Only, he wasn't an actual Master.
He checked his watch and scowled. Caesar had dropped this surprise on all the Masters. It was only pure luck that he happened to be in the area where the summons was made. He hoped the brat made it in time.
Keeping his head high and an air of self-importance on his face, he strolled out of the bathroom door and exited the old building. Crossing the dark, unoccupied street, he entered through fancy swinging doors and traversed the marble tiled floors towards a small hallway to the left. Stepping onto the red carpeted floor with his sparkling leather shoes, he tried look as stoic as possible as he joined the small line of Masters waiting to sign in with their expecting 'naps. He studied the backs of their heads with his sharp, dark eyes.
Balgus wasn't surprised to see the line so small. This was the first time Caesar had made such a bold move against the Masters. If you didn't sign up your pawn in time for the competition, it was practically a disqualification. Most of the time, all Masters had at least a two-week notice. This was unexpected.
It made Balgus both uneasy and strangely excited.
Would Caesar finally declare a winner to the game now that the Masters' pot was getting smaller? In a way, this was what Balgus had been waiting for all these years. He'd be recognized. Or at least his cover, Rodger Mackmore, would be.
Standing in line, he recognized two of the men waiting in front of him. There was Dr. Nicolas Jackson - the Head Justice of the Criminal Sector in Austuria and the APD's Leader of Investigations and Police Commissioner, Seymour Bevogo.
Balgus inwardly scoffed. And the people of this city wondered why the police department hadn't made any headway into stopping this sick game. The damn Commissioner was two people in front of him. He'd always wondered what kind of person it took to actually participate in this horror. Using real human beings for an increasingly dangerous race like they were thoughtless bits of mindless robots to be played on a video game. These people were sick. And staggering amounts were in leadership positions within the city. Balgus had actually heard the rumors of 'naps getting killed by their Masters for no reason at all. You could buy another, but it was double the price. Triple for a third one.
But ultimately, there was the reward for the winner. And it was this reward Balgus had worked so hard for.
There was almost a deafening silence in the hallway. The old man had an urge to hold his breath in case he exhaled too loudly. That was one thing about the Masters. They were a quiet lot. It had become practically an unspoken rule: don't talk to each other until the game was done. And even then, just congratulate the victor and be on your way.
"Master 23, please step forward." A young woman's voice spoke from the front of the line. Noticing the small flashing light at the end of the hallway, Balgus already knew that the attendant had a neck collar. They always did. They were Caesar's personal pawns.
"Thank you, Master 23. Your pawn has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 12, please step forward." Master 23 turned, the ten buttons of his controller now blinking beautifully on his arm. He was connected to his pawn now. Somewhere near 88th South Street, a 'nap was obediently kicking their bike alive and riding to the startling line.
The Master turned down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. Balgus kept his eyes straight to the front and moved up in the line.
"Thank you, Master 12. Your pawn has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 44, please step forward."
Balgus was after Jackson. He could see the woman now. She was a very small thing. Her thin hands moved expertly over the Commissioner's controls, and within seconds, he was lighting up like a Christmas tree.
"Thank you, Master 44. Your pawn has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 661, please step forward." Devogo turned, headed down the hall, and up the stairs like the rest. Balgus tried not to, but he couldn't help staring at the woman's collar. From what he'd seen with Allen, Balgus knew how they functioned. Eight wires in all. Four wires traveled around the back of her slender neck and snaked beneath the bottom of her skull inside her brain. Allen was the expert in how exactly the collars made the victim a mindless slave. The old man knew the other four black wires were attached to the left valve of her heart. They twisted down her slightly revealing blouse and burrowed disgustingly inside her chest. If her heart ever stopped beating, the collar would act like a bomb and explode instantly.
That was how Caesar destroyed his evidence.
"Thank you, Master 661. Your pawn has been registered."
The old man got his hidden signal ready. Once the attendant 'connected' his controller, he would immediately signal to Hitomi to light up her 'collar'.
"Master 28, please step forward."
He mentally took a deep breath and walked towards her.
The night was dark and full. Her heart hammered in her chest. With every flash from passing billboard signs, she felt the rush of panic. What if she didn't make it? She prayed inwardly that the familiar beep wouldn't sound.
Just a little further… just a little further… she repeated, speeding wildly over the limit. She exited the highway and took a hard left; practically leaning off her bike to make the turn. Entering an abandoned street underneath the highway, she immediately pressed the brake and felt relief.
There they were. Motionless and silent. Waiting like silent lambs for the slaughter.
The kidnapped.
Trying to keep her breathing steady, she slowed her bike further and stopped beside the dirty curb in front of an unmoving 'nap. No one watched her. All helmeted heads faced forward staring straight ahead. Waiting. Her green eyes searched beyond her dark helmet without turning her head. No guards stationed this time as well.
Was Caesar so comfortable that he truly believed no one would try to stop him?
Colors of red and blue suddenly burst from the collar of a still figure three people ahead of her. She tried not to look as the stranger kicked their bike alive and went down the street to hit the underground pathway.
Within minutes, a small beep sounded in her right ear and she immediately reached up to pull the far right wire at her neck. Her collar lit up in an array of colors. With another quick check to make sure all the wires were in place, she pulled the bike off the side and headed down the litter-filled street to the starting line.
Here we go, she thought with grim determination. Another small beep in her left ear signaled that the GPS was up and working. Allen was ready and waiting.
Showtime.
The next day - afternoon
Van sighed as he slid onto the familiar wooden stool and placed a rough hand on the smooth polished surface of the bar counter. Swallowing down another sigh, he raked a hand through his long black locks and slightly pulled on the strands on the back of his head. He felt his stomach tense once more with the strange foreboding feeling that had loomed over his mind like a black cloud all day. Van hadn't felt this type of anxiety in years. He was used to trusting his instincts, but what good were his instincts in the real world? What were they trying to tell him?
"Had a rough day, Van?" The barkeeper's smooth voice cut in and the black-haired man smiled gratefully at his friend. The long-haired Dryden Fassa pushed a coaster and a tall pilsner full of dark beer in front of him.
"How could you tell?"
"You're a little later than usual. I thought you might actually be on a date and cheating on me."
"I finished the foundation project a bit late. Besides, you know I only have you in my heart."
"I figured you were always the first one off the site with 'project complete' stamped on your forehead."
"Haven't been myself today. Keep remembering things and having this weird feeling."
"Things and feelings?" His friend asked. Dryden reached over to grab a towel to begin wiping an already spotless counter-top. He caught the quiet haunted look in Van's mahogany eyes and nodded. "I get it. I was there, too. Millerna, as well. We all were there. You need a woman to pull you out of the funk. That or another job. It's the only way out."
Van shook his head and took a gulp of beer. The cold liquid warmed his belly and calmed him slightly. "I don't need a woman. I just need a distraction."
Dryden snorted a laugh. "Trust me. There is no better distraction than a woman. Millerna is my heart and soul, but damn is she annoying. Keeps me on my toes, that one. But enough about me. We were talking about you and your lack of distractions." He twirled a curled piece of brown hair around a long finger.
The black-haired man took another swig of beer. "Maybe distraction isn't the best word, Dryden. It's purpose. It's… something to be proud of."
"Construction isn't everything you've dreamed of and more?"
"It's a lackluster mistress."
Dryden exhaled from his nose and leaned his elbows on the counter. "Look, Van. You need to move on. This is just unrest. Everyone needs stimulation in their lives. How many years has it been? Four? Five?"
Van picked up his glass and drank another mouthful. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and realize everything was a dream and I'm actually a mongoose with an overactive imagination."
"A mongoose can't pull off flannel as well as you can." Dryden batted his eyelashes jokingly. Van glanced down at his red checkered shirt and snorted a laugh. Watching his long-haired friend get called by the table behind him, he picked up the tall glass by the rim and rotated the bottom of the pilsner on top of the coaster.
"…In other news, yet another underground motorcycle race was held last night despite the APD's desperate attempt to stop them. Eries Aston has more on the story…"
Van looked up to watch the large television mounded at the back of the bar. Black and white photos of familiar crash scenes began to flash across the crystal clear screen. Melancholy music played in the background with the pictures. Some of the photos Van remembered were from several years ago. The news must have run out of important things to talk about, he mused silently. Still, he was grateful for its interference from his troubles. Even if it was something they reported about almost every night.
"The pictures we are showing to you are from the numerous devastating tragedies the motorcycle races have brought to our once fair city over the past three years. Last night's race was another prime example. A massive accident involving two motorcyclists became the forefront of one of the biggest and deadliest collisions to date. (A video of a huge pile up of motorcycles popped on the screen. Red and blue flashing lights illuminated the brick walls while uniformed men held flashlights to inspect the enormous pile of twisted metal and wheels. Dark puddles of what might be blood pooled out from the wreckage.) From what investigators have gathered, two cyclists collided together in a small alleyway on 45th in between Baker's Café and Freud Incorporated. The wreck caused a massive pileup of bikes and bodies. More than half of the riders caught in this death trap died of severe injuries. One man was literally crushed to death by four bikes. Police assume – from the number of bikes verses corpses –only two lived. Just like many accidents before this one, the survivors of the crash disappeared before cops arrived on the scene. We apologize for not showing more of the accident. The dead had their heads blown off from the mysterious contraption strapped to the victim's neck. The only body police have been able to identify so far is twenty-year-old Howard Duncan. Tests prove that he was dead before the neck brace exploded. It has been confirmed that the device detonates as soon as the heart stops beating. Duncan was yet another one of the teenagers reported missing in the wide-spread kidnappings that happened four years ago. Could this be more proof that these motorcyclists are the missing young adults? Are these poor children being forced into these races?
"During the press meeting with Mayor Dornkirk this morning, he is quoted saying, 'This abomination has become a black suffocating cloud for the streets and for the innocent people caught in the crossfire. It is time to put an end to this once and for all.' The Mayor is scheduled to give another speech tomorrow at 2pm in front of the Austria's National Museum, pleading with the senate to give the private APD sector more tax funds for investigation into this long-time atrocity. (A long, blond-haired woman appeared on the screen standing in front of a downtown APD station. She was very willowy with a stern face.) 'We have asked the private investigators of the Austrian Police Department why it is taking so long to find the leaders of these dangerous races. So far, the answers have been very discouraging. We were informed a long debate was held between the Mayor and the head of the VOP to decide if the GIA should be involved in the investigation. The Mayor stated he was doing everything he could to get to the bottom of this and government involvement might further escalate the criminal organization to higher extremes. But the questions remain: where are these missing children? Why are they forced into this hazardous lifestyle? Again if anyone knows anything with the situation behind these races, the APD encourages you to call…'"
Van was jerked away from the television as a stranger joined the stool right beside him. He was an odd-looking man with an unfashionable bowl hair-cut. Despite his suit and tie, he looked like someone who had just run four miles and wasn't used to the exercise. He was panting and sweating, which didn't help his already pasty appearance. Van had decided to ignore the stranger, until…
"You're early." He whispered in an unreasonably tense voice. Van quirked an eyebrow and glanced around. He saw no one else except for the couple at the table behind him. "I expected you to be bigger."
"I guess I get that a lot." He answered his mahogany eyes zipping towards Dryden. His friend was busy typing in an order on the computer.
"I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be here."
Van really didn't know how to reply to that. "I'm always here." He responded with a shrug. "Where else would I be?"
"I'm so sweaty and nervous. I'll never understand people like you." The stranger glanced at Van's face and shook his head. "You look so calm."
"It's the low blood pressure." Is this man drunk? Van wondered briefly. Studying the man, he noticed the sharp flick of the stranger's eyes, the way he twitched slightly every time the commercials from the television made a loud noise, the straightness of his back as if he was hunted by a prowling lion. Not drunk, but probably on drugs, Van confirmed. Should I try to help him?
"Is there anything I can help you with?" Van asked politely. The man blinked.
"Oh, right. The stuff." The man reached for a leather folding briefcase that was sitting innocently beside his stool leg and fished out a closed manila package. Placing it on the counter between the two of them with a shaky hand, the man said, "This is half. The rest once the job's complete."
Trying to keep the utterly lost expression off his tan face, the black-haired man swallowed the growing lump in his throat and pulled the small, thick package slowly towards him with his long fingers. The sweaty stranger nodded and bent to pick up his briefcase. "Your agency knows the number. My contractors will be waiting for the call once it's finished." With a slight trip on his own two feet, the man ungracefully bowed to Van and practically ran out of the bar.
Needless to say, Van's stomach was in knots as his mahogany eyes swiveled back to the package under his fingers. Dryden was no where to be seen.
Inhaling through his mouth, Van broke the seal on the package and looked inside. He felt like he was kicked in the stomach. Five large bundles of hundreds were rubber-banded together. He calculated instantly. Fifty-thousand dollars. Reaching swiftly, the ebony-haired man took a long drink from his beer before reaching in and pulling out a small envelope that was tucked next to the money.
Placing the package on the counter, he flipped open the envelope and reached inside. He blinked. It was a picture of a young woman. She wasn't looking at the camera – which suggested the shot was taken without her knowing. She was standing right outside what appeared to be a small, old apartment complex. Van's mahogany eyes narrowed as he studied the picture. She must have been thinking about something amusing because she had a very small smile on her face, almost carefree. Her brown hair was cropped short, but it suited her small frame. He drew the photo closer to his face. The more he looked at her, the more he realized how pretty she was. She had certain elegance to her that he couldn't describe. Turning the photo over, he read a scrawled print:
"Hitomi Kanzaki, 87 Hummingbird St, No evidence."
Slipping the photo into the front pocket of his flannel shirt, Van wrinkled the envelope in his shaking fist. Closing up the manila package with the money, he saw Dryden appear from the back carrying plates of food. He wondered if he should say anything to his friend. What should he do? Call the police? What exactly was going on here? Did someone want this woman dead? Who was that pasty guy? Did he mistake Van for someone else? Some kind of hit-man of sorts?
He was so distracted, he hardly noticed a man so blond his hair looked silver sit beside him.
"You're early." The man said in a low voice and turned to him with a wide smile gracing his thin lips.
Van jumped and glanced over at the newcomer. The silver-haired man's eyes were twinkling with an overlying good-nature, but Van read behind it. He saw what was beyond the eyes. The man's soul was black. Evil.
"You're thinner than I imagined. And…" he glanced at Van's flannel shirt. "…more blue-collar."
His heart pounded with fear. His stomach churned with the anxiety he'd felt all day. Picking up his beer, he drained it. He felt the man's red eyes watching his every movement. How can someone's eyes be so scarlet? He thought with a shiver.
"I'm sorry," Van said once he'd swallowed the last drop. "I've been sent here to inform you that the contract has been terminated." He pushed the manila package towards the man. "This is half the payment just for the trouble. That should be more than enough to please your employers. The deal is off." He tried to keep his face calm and prayed that his bullshit story was acceptable.
"Oh?" The stranger's pale eyebrows rose and his smile grew wider. It must have rivaled the Cheshire Cat. "I didn't think that the contract could be broken."
"Yes, I thought so, too, but I just got the call from my superiors." Van made sure his breathing was slow. Adrenaline pulsed through his body and he willed his muscles to stay relaxed. "They've targeted the wrong person."
The silver man laughed happily and shook his head. "That's no matter to me. I'll do my job with or without upfront payment. I'm sure my agency would have informed me if there were any changes."
Van tried to keep the frustration off his face. "There isn't any reason to kill her. I'm paying you off with fifty thousand. Half of what was promised for not doing anything."
The man leaned his pale cheek on his palm and his grin lowered slightly. Van immediately wondered what happened to people when the smile was gone. With an inner shudder, he realized he didn't want to know.
"Unfortunately, middleman, I have the information on the target already sent from your corporation. I only need to meet you for the money and the target's current location. Interesting that you want this contracted terminated. Never had that happen before. Usually the middleman is a man of few words. Are you new to this?"
Van remained silent. He didn't know how to reply. The man smirked and got up from his stool. "Tell your employers that they can call my agency and cancel anytime they wish. In the meantime, I have a job to do and I intend to see it through." With a happy red-eye wink, he turned and practically glided out the door like a silent wind.
Van sat quietly looking at the swinging glass door. Slowly, he retrieved his phone from his pocket. He was just about to dial the last one on 9-1-1 when he saw the silver-haired man pull out of the parking lot in a police car.
The man was a damn cop.
The black-haired man put his phone back into his pocket and reached into his shirt for the picture of the woman. Whoever this Hitomi Kanzaki was, she was not going to be around much longer. With a deep breath, Van felt a strange strength replace his anxiety and run a course through his muscles.
"Not if I have anything to say about it." His mahogany eyes studied her calm, smiling face.
At last, he found his purpose.
Millerna sat at the small sofa with calm surprise written on her face. Van rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. Despite the fierce urge to track down this Hitomi Kanzaki immediately, he knew he needed to take a few steps before he ventured into the danger. If this assassin was as thorough as Van predicted, he'd eventually know Van's name, place of employment, and closest friends. Since Van had no family, he knew straightaway where the threat would go once the girl was safe.
"So," she started, folding her arms together and tossing her blond hair over one shoulder. "If a man with bright blond hair comes to the door I should tell him that we don't know you?"
"Exactly. Call Dryden and tell him that I'm just some punk that comes to the bar for a drink from time to time. Tell him to say I'm boring." The black-haired man shifted his feet on the fluffy white carpet. His instincts were telling him he needed to leave soon if he wanted to get to the girl in time. "Please do this for me. I don't want anyone getting hurt."
"This guy. Is he going to hurt you?" Millerna face sharpened and her back straightened. She was getting into soldier mode. "I'll come with you, Van. You need someone watching your back if this is that dangerous."
"You've been in enough danger to last three lifetimes. Stay here with Chid and call Dryden." Van commanded staring her right in the eye. She met his gaze unflinchingly. "If you want to fall back to the old days, call it an order from your superior officer."
"Van, I know you. You are practically my brother. You saved all our lives back on the field. You are godfather to our little boy. You are part of the family. You're telling me that I can't help you? Do you understand how impossible this is for me?"
"Back in the day, I would have welcomed your company, but not anymore, Millerna. You have something precious to protect. And I…" he stopped and unthinkingly put a hand over his pocket where the girl's picture was resting. "I must do this alone."
The blond woman pierced her eyes at him. Finally, she lowered her gaze and stood up. Walking over to a hallway closet, she opened it and pulled out several boxes from the top. "Alright, you lone wolf, if you won't take my help then take this instead." Millerna yanked out a thin wooden box and strolled back over to Van. He took the case and opened the lid.
"Your .45 ACP. This is your favorite pistol. I didn't know you still had it."
A shadow passed over her face. A recollection of memories. "I couldn't get rid of her. She saved my life so many times. There's extra ammo in the bottom compartment. Just lift right here."
Van shook his head. "This is for your safety. What if he comes to attack and you have no gun?"
"You think I can't handle myself without one little pistol? If you remember, we are all human weapons, too." He watched her lift her hands and crack her knuckles. "I'd feel so much better if you had her. You remember how to shoot a gun, right, sir? Just point and fire."
Closing the lid, he shut his eyes for a moment. "I'll take her, but make sure to do everything I've asked. You don't know me. I'm just a reoccurring customer."
"What if whoever they are looks up the old military files? What if they learn who you were? What you've done?"
Van allowed himself a small smile.
"They'll realize how much of a mistake they made handing me that package."
Balgus sat at the table, his large hands spread on the red and white checkerboard tablecloth in front of him. The screen door faced west and showed the beautiful orange sunset. The ancient kitchen was surprisingly spotless and well kept for how dated all of the cooking equipment was. A stained-glassed hanging lamp flickered on and off above his graying head as he met the older woman's glare sitting in front of him. Her jingling bangles and flashy robes made him roll his small eyes with a snort. She shook her head, gray-brown curls escaping her messy bun on top of her head.
"You had her race with no moon." The flashy woman accused in a low dangerous voice. She jingled as she crossed her wrinkled arms angrily. "You knew there would be no moon, Balgus. I've told you about this over and over!"
"Don't patronize me, Nina! You know I don't believe in that crap!" He growled back, trying to push down the feeling of shame filling his stomach.
"I'll patronize you till the good Lord comes if I have to! A new moon means trouble!"
"She survived, didn't she?"
"She may have survived, but that doesn't mean this didn't have repercussions. She narrowly escaped becoming a casualty in that hideous alleyway disaster and don't you dare tell me otherwise!" Balgus had opened his mouth to retort and found himself closing his lips with a snap. "This is my only family member I have left, Balgus. And this silly little mission of yours is becoming more and more dangerous by the year. I cannot have my little Hitomi risking her life."
"She's saving lives!" The large man barked. "We were able to get two from the crash last night. Allen is already working on removing the collar at the shop. Why don't you see how important this is?"
"Don't you understand that she will lose her life in these races? Don't you notice how close she gets to getting discovered by Caesar every single time she races? She's obviously not a 'nap, Balgus. She's not one of those mindless pawns. She thinks and reasons. She has too much talent and doesn't blend!"
"I want her to get noticed by Caesar, Nina! That is the only way into his inner circle. Once he sees who is 'controlling' her, he'll let 'Rodger' in."
"So, you're still on about that 'inner circle' nonsense? Using my poor granddaughter for-"
"She's old enough to think for herself on this. The girl is twenty-five. If she wanted to back out of this mess, then she could easily do so!"
Nina shook her head in anger and even more hair fell around her shoulders. "She'll never back out of it unless you tell her to, you nincompoop! If you hadn't told her about it, she wouldn't have raced last night. But it is too late for you to say anything. Even after I repeatedly warned you otherwise! Disaster will come because you didn't heed my warnings!"
The old man growled, but he felt as if he'd been slapped. "You are the most infuriating woman! Witchcraft was something to burn at the stake back in the day!"
"It is not witchcraft, you jabbering fool!" Nina bellowed back. "You'd think after all these years you'd finally begin to listen to me! She's not some expendable thing you can just yank into danger! This is my granddaughter!" Nina's voice rose with each word uttered.
The old man stopped. Swallowing down his continually rising humiliation, he gritted his teeth and thought for a retort against the woman's indictments. Unfortunately, he didn't have to think too hard. Someone spoke for him.
"Grandma, I'm alright. It's tragic, but accidents like that happen all the time."
Balgus' large head turned to see the object of their fight making her way into the kitchen from the hallway. Judging from her short rumpled hair, long t-shirt and shorts, she'd just woken up. Rubbing her green eyes with the palm of her hands, she gave Nina a tired smile. "Besides, we cannot risk getting disqualified. Balgus did the right thing by calling me."
"See? I did the right thing, hag." Balgus smirked at Nina and she scowled at him.
The girl tilted her head and crossed her arms. "I just stuck up for you, old man. Please be humble about it."
"I had this whole situation under control, brat! I didn't need your help!" He caught the girl's unbelieving smile and felt irritation swirl with the shame. "Wipe that stupid smug off your face!"
"You're the stupid one!" The colorful woman retorted. The old man felt a gold bracelet hit the side of his head and he glared at her. "I've told you before, you big block-head, there will be consequences because of this race. Something has changed and it won't be for good either. "
"What a bunch of hog-wash!"
"I just hope the 'hero' shows himself soon." The grandmother grumbled.
"That is, if he ever shows his face." Hitomi sighed and shook her head with disbelief. "It's been five years since that vision, grandma. I don't think he's coming."
"The voice of reason speaks from the most unexpected of places." Balgus sneered. He ducked a flying bracelet.
"I saw him! He does exist."
"Not saying that he doesn't," the young girl smiled at the old woman. "But he really has taken his time. Besides, I don't see any man beating down my door lately. Are sure this 'hero' isn't Allen?"
"That skinny lunatic? I sure as hell hope not!" Balgus injected, banging his thick fists on the table. "If he does exist he'll probably just get in my way."
Hitomi grinned. "I think he's jealous."
"I'm not jealous!" The old man roared. "Your visions are something a good medication will cure and nothing more, witch. A new moon doesn't change anything at all! I'd have her race even if it's raining purple cows! We've gotten closer to getting Caesar's attention with this last match! He'll notice her before long."
"And once Hitomi wins the arena, once you've gained access close enough to Caesar, once you've finally gotten him to trust you, then what, oh great mastermind?"
"All I need is one gun." Balgus said calmly. "One bullet. Just get me close enough and I'll put a hole right here." He pointed a thick finger to his gray temple. "He won't see it coming. And then it will all be over. Destroy the puppet master to destroy the puppets."
The short-haired girl swallowed and shifted bare feet on the kitchen tile. "But what if he does see us coming?"
The table was silent. The chirps from grasshoppers could be heard as the afternoon slowly bled into evening.
The magical woman pursed her lips. Ignoring Hitomi left open question, she took off another bracelet and aimed it at Balgus' head. "Impressing the Caesar in his arena to assassinate him has been the stupidest plan of the decade. Hitomi is still a young woman. She should be able to go to college like regular young adults. Not be stuck in your strange fantasy for revenge. If you want to peg Caesar so badly, you race those damn crazy people on your own moped and your own blinky collar and let her live her life for herself." Throwing the jewelry, Balgus didn't even dodge as it flew through the air and bounced harmlessly off his forehead with a small jingle.
"It's not a stupid plan. I've been using my other inside for information as well." He countered with a frown.
Nina snorted. "You mean your job as the APD janitor? Gonna make your way up to the top one toilet cleaned at a time?"
"Not every officer is corrupted. There are some who want the races to stop just as much as me. I hear them talk about it secretly. The GIA is trying to get on the case."
"If it has taken the GIA this long to finally get into gear then we are probably better without them. And what have those uncorrupted policemen done to stop it? A whole shit load of nothing!"
"Grandma! Watch your mouth." Hitomi scolded.
The old woman ignored her. "I'm sure they don't even understand what is going on or they've been brainwashed like the rest of that idiot police force. What if you win his favor? What if you are able to earn his respect with Hitomi winning in the races? What then, Balgus? Wait till more innocents are kidnapped for another four years of this horror or stampede with all guns blazing into his office full of trained hit-men in your janitorial trousers?"
"Et tu, Balgus?" The short-haired girl snorted a laugh and ducked as the old man chucked a loose bracelet at her.
"I'm fine with the races for now." He answered after a moment. "The more he summons like he did last night, the more 'naps are being taken out of the equation because of disqualification. The arena is narrowing."
"But no races mean no freed 'naps." The younger girl said. "The more Masters are disqualified, the longer the 'naps remain with their collars and brainwashed slaves. Allen's been deactivating the collars from last night and…" she sighed. "He's had trouble. They are a new brand of collars. Probably a lot more dangerous for the 'naps. We already can't trust the ones we freed three months ago to help in the arena. Allen is the only one who kept his memory the entire time he was in the collar. That was because it was already defaulted. He's also had time to recover."
"You call that loony 'recovered'? He acts like a hamster on three different types of hyper medication. But do you see my point, Nina?" Balgus smirked.
The wrinkled woman pursed her lips, but remained silent.
"I'm fine with racing, grandma." Hitomi walked over to open a cabinet on top of the stove and pulled out a small plastic bowl. "As long as people are being saved, I'm happy with doing the right thing."
"Oh, the ever good-intentioned angels," Nina rolled her wise green eyes.
"I just want to know why Caesar called such an abrupt game. How can he expect a full race if not even the Masters know where to go until just before it begins? It doesn't make sense. Did you learn anything, Balgus?" She grabbed milk from the fridge and began digging around for the cereal box.
He shook his gray head. "Only speculation. The Masters are still as quiet as ever. I just wish I could go ahead and win. Then I could get rid of him once and for all."
"There has got to be other people out there besides us that are trying to secretly stop Caesar. Maybe he knows this and did the summons to get more disqualified." Nina suggested.
Hitomi opened the box and poured cereal into the bowl. "That's an idea. It almost happened to us."
"We can't rule that out, but I have a feeling we are on our own. The Masters I duel with are prominent men." The old man said, picking at a hole in the table cover. "So, it definitely has been a good thing that you raced last night. We need to continue this mission if we are the only ones freeing the 'naps."
"I wonder if maybe more collars are defaulting and he's trying to narrow this batch of 'napped. He'll start again with fresh pawns and updated collars." Hitomi proposed.
Nina shook her head sadly. "Those poor children. Taken from their beds and completely brainwashed…"
Balgus' snorted. "Still feel my cause is stupid?"
The flashy grandmother sniffed, but didn't say anything.
Hitomi placed her bowl on the table, but did not sit down on the chair in front of her. Glancing from the old man to the old woman and back again, she gave a determined look. "We'll win this for them. All Caesar wants is sick entertainment. Gladiators to fight to the death. He thinks he can control the city and call himself ruler? He thinks he can hide behind his precious police department and get away with kidnap and murder? Once we gain access into his inner circle, we'll blow them all away. Better yet, we'll just strap those collars on them and let them see how it feels to be controlled. I refuse to allow this to happen again. They'll have to kill me-"
DING DONG
Hitomi blinked in surprise. Glancing at Nina, who had her gray eyebrows raised in wonder, she felt Balgus' rough hand grab her wrist and he shook his head slowly.
DING DONG
Their eyes traveled entryway which led to the front door. Slowly reaching up, she plucked the old man's hand off of her arm and nodded. "I'll answer it."
"You're not fit to be seen wearing that!" Nina said loudly.
"Shut-it, you old hag!" Balgus hissed. Turning to Hitomi, he murmured, "What if it's Caesar's men?"
"It won't be." Hitomi said rolling her eyes. "We are just being paranoid."
"Even if it isn't, you should wear the collar. Precautionary measures."
DING DONG- DING DONG- DIIIIIING DONG
"I'll get the collar." the younger girl hissed and walked towards her hanging bag near the back door. Fishing it out, she strapped it on as she marched out of the kitchen. Bare feet thumping on the runway carpet lining, she leaned into the door to look through the peep-hole. She saw the form of a man with unruly black hair and tan skin. He was dressed in a deep red flannel shirt that was tucked into slightly dirty blue-jeans. He looked like the definition of Average Joe. She couldn't see his face properly considering he kept looking from side to side. This is sketchy, she thought.
"Who are you?" She called from the door, trying to keep her voice emotionless. Like a 'nap.
The man looked at the door with surprise and she finally saw his face. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way. He pulled off the lumberjack look quite well. She caught the strange color of soft tan brown eyes behind his shaggy hair. It was almost like a reddish-brown. She frowned with her face pressed against the wooden door and her eye studying his every movement. "I asked you a question, sir."
"My name is Van, Van Fanel. I'm here… because well…" he glanced left and right once more. "I have learned something recently and I think it involves someone living here."
He had a nice tenor voice. It was very honest sounding and went perfectly with his countenance. Just like someone she'd trust instantly. She immediately distrusted him.
"Look. Could you please just let me in? This is really important."
"Don't let him in, child." Balgus' gruff voice sounded behind her and she gasped lightly. The old man was standing at her back with a shotgun. She frowned and shooed him with her fingers. That's when she noticed Nina standing at the window peaking through the curtains.
"Oh, he's a nice looking young man."
"Grandma, get back in the kitchen, and Balgus, put that shotgun away!"Hitomi ordered forgetting to lower her voice.
"I'm not leaving if you open this door." The old man shouted as Nina said, "I'm not leaving until you open this door." Both old people shot each other a glare.
"Um…" the poor man waiting on the doorstep injected. "I just want to explain. Please, open it and I'll talk right here. I don't need to come in."
"Do it!" her grandma nodded. She turned around to head back into the kitchen. "Trust me, sweetie. Bring him to the kitchen so I can speak with him. And for God's sake put some proper clothes on afterwards!" Hitomi blushed. She sighed and began flipping the four deadbolts unlocked. Silencing Balgus' complaining snarl with a look, the short-haired girl pointed him to the kitchen. The old man growled several curses, lowered his shotgun, and grudgingly stomped away.
Opening the door hesitantly, she swallowed down a sudden flurry of nerves that attacked her stomach. Grandma trusted him. If she does, then I will. As soon as his mahogany eyes met her green, his face turned hopeful and he gave a large smile. She felt strange warmth run through her. Why was he looking so happy?
"I found you first. Thank God." He said with obvious relief. "I've been so worried that I didn't make it in time."
"What are you talking about?" Hitomi asked frowning. "I don't even know you."
"It's kind of hard to explain, but I'll try my best." The man – Van – stepped up closer to the doorway and looked down at her with serious eyes. "I've been trying to think through different ways of breaking this to you, but I guess the best thing to do is be completely honest. I was mistaken for an assassin and given orders to kill you. Then, the real assassin came and he mistook me for the one delivering the information. You are in great danger here. I'm sure whoever hired him has already figured out that I somehow intercepted the mission and has given him all the information he needed to find you."
"Oh." Her mind fell flat. The nerves fluttered to her throat and were making it almost hard to breath. "I… don't really understand what you just said."
"Please, believe me. I'm here to help you." The man took a step closer to the door with a pleading look.
Suddenly, her mind was sprinting with thought after thought. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Someone was after her? Did that mean Caesar knew who she was? Did they know the entire thing? That meant Balgus was in danger, too. His 'Rodger Mackmore' cover was completely blown. When did this happen? How were they discovered?
Had these four years of attempted infiltration been a complete waste of time?
She was instantly awakened by a loud scream and two echoing BANGs coming from the back of the house. Turning from the door, she tried to control her breathing as she irrationally ran down the hallway towards the kitchen. The hallway passed by her as if in slow motion. Her feet felt like they were being pulled by invisible hands on the floor.
"Hey, wait!" she heard the stranger call out, but she didn't even acknowledge him.
Grandma… Balgus… she thought as the shadow of fear crossed her mind. Her feet pounded their names. Grandma… Balgus… Grandma… Balgus…
With a stumble, she turned left and stood at the doorway to the small kitchen. Her feet touched warm liquid where a pool of red was starting to travel into the hallway. Her grandma lay flat on the ground right in front of her. The woman's wrinkled arms spread out, her legs unnaturally bent. The curls of her messy hair were quickly soaking in the blood of her partially missing face. Glancing up, her world was spinning. Balgus was on the table, sputtering at her through bloody lips. A man with white-blond hair was standing at the open back door, a brilliant smile on his face. The man turned towards her, a large gun in his hands.
Suddenly, she felt strong arms grab her from behind, pull her into the hallway, and she hit the floor.
"Hey, wait!" Van yelled, his heart skipping a beat. Pushing the door all the way open with a steady hand, the black-haired man saw the girl run down a long hallway. He felt his instincts kick in as he hurried through the threshold after her. His heart rate sped up only five paces. His body had become limber and his muscles relaxed. Despite the years out of service, he still had the reflexes of a soldier.
The girl stopped short at her left and stood still at a walkway. Her mouth was open, almost in a trance. In shock, Van immediately diagnosed as he ran up beside her. He noticed the blood trailing from the door. He followed his instincts.
"Get down!" he shouted and grabbed her stiff body against him. Pulling her away from the doorway and onto the floor, he heard the familiar repeated pings of bullets firing from a silencer. He shielded her with his body as the bullets whistled through the thin sheet rock walls and stuck in the wooden paneling on the other side of the hallway. There was a breath of silence that followed.
Get up now! His mind hollered and he instantly jumped to his feet. Pulling her up by her arms, he held tight on her wrist and raced out of the hallway; fully aware of how easy a target they both were in this particular position. With his free hand, he knocked over an old coat hanger as well as a small shelf standing by the doorway behind them. He felt more than heard the wind pressure of the singing bullets dancing around their bodies. Get to the truck. Get to the truck. He repeated in his head. They both ran hard off the porch and he let go of her hand to get the keys from his back pocket. He pressed the unlock button on his keys and she yanked on the handle of his navy pickup.
"Get in!" He shouted unnecessarily. He raced to the driver's side and heard the tell-tale ping of several bullets violently pelting into the side of his vehicle. He dove into the driver's side and heard more thumps. "Duck your head down!" He commanded, grabbing the back of her head and forcing it to her knees. Digging the key into the machine, he pulled it in drive and pressed hard on the gas.
He didn't even flinch as the back window cracked with a striking bullet. Turning a corner in the neighborhood, he ran the stop sign and waved a quick apology to a small car honking at him. I've got to get out of this neighborhood immediately, he frowned.
"What… what…" the girl was gasping at her knees. She was indeed the same girl that he'd seen in the picture. Her short hair draped over her pale face. He saw her green eyes wide and staring at her blood-stained bare feet.
"Are you shot?" His breathing was slow and even. Even his voice sounded calm. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
She shook her head slowly. The black-haired man felt a wash of relief come over him. "You can raise your head if you want. Once we get out of this neighborhood, we'll be safe for a while." Flexing his tan fingers over the steering wheel, he stayed quiet while she gradually sat back up against the seat.
"I think I'm going to be sick." She whispered. She closed her green eyes and her skin looked deathly pale.
"I need you to try and breathe as steady as you can. You're in shock." Van said gently as he pushed the gas pedal down even harder. He took a sharp left turn and the wheels squealed. "Keep breathing deeply. If you need to throw up, go ahead. I'll have to get a new vehicle soon anyways. He's bound to track the license plate number on my truck. He's in a cop car."
She made a strange gagging noise and shook her head. "I don't have anything in my stomach to throw up. Did you say a cop is after me?"
He yanked the wheel to the right and bled past another stop sign. "He's in a cop car, but not in uniform. I have no idea what is going on, but it looks like I came right in the nick of time."
The girl – Hitomi – was silent for a moment. "How did you find me? Who are you?"
The black-haired man reached into his pocket and pulled out her picture. "The first guy gave me this. The address – the house you were just at – it's written on the back."
She looked at the photo for several minutes. Waiting for her reply, Van finally wormed his way out of the neighborhood and onto a small FM two lane road. He still didn't like it. He needed a highway. And maybe a new car.
"This was taken last night before I left for the race." She finally murmured. A tear slipped down from her wide green eyes and she wiped it away with a furious hand. She handed him back the picture and he tucked it back in the front pocket of his shirt. The picture belonged more to her than to him, but he kept it anyway. "There wasn't a moon. Grandma was right. Balgus and I… we were fools. They probably figured it out once the Masters were narrowed down. And that means… everything was a total waste of time. And now …" Van didn't think it was possible, but her face grew even paler.
"Don't try to reason it out right now," he said calmly. Nothing she was saying made sense anyway. Wanting to comfort her in some small way, he reached out his hand, gently touched her shoulder, and gave it a small squeeze. She was shivering under his palm. "There are several coats in the back. Put one of those on if you're cold." He put his hand back on the wheel and still felt the warmth of her skin on his fingers. Hitomi nodded and turned to look at the backseat. She fished out his old brown jacket he used at work on cold mornings. Van didn't know why, but he suddenly felt embarrassed.
"That probably doesn't smell too good. I'm in construction and I tend to sweat it in."
"I don't care." She murmured, wrapping the coat around her body. Buckling her seatbelt, she curled herself on the seat facing him. He heard her sniffle and met her wide green eyes staring at him. His embarrassment shift to nervousness. How was it he was able to dodge bullets and react so well to danger, but he could hardly stand to be looked at by a girl? Pathetic.
"Can you talk to me? I don't even know who you are." She whispered, wiping her eyes again with the sleeve of his coat. She looked tiny wrapped in it.
"Likewise," he answered. "The only thing I know about you was on that picture. I don't even know why you are being targeted."
"The races…" her voice was quiet. Van waited for more, but she was silent.
"My name is Van Fanel." He started, turning right onto a northbound frontage. He switched on the blinker to wedge himself onto the freeway. "I'm twenty-seven and I work for Esca Construction Company. You could say I was in the wrong place at the right time." He shot her a small smile and tried to calm his twisting stomach as her green eyes burrowed into his face. "I was at a local pub when I was approached by the man that had your picture. He also gave me fifty thousand dollars and said that the other half would be paid once the job was finished. Not even three minutes after he left, that silver-haired bastard showed up and thought I was the one handing the information and payment. I tried to convince him the deal was off, and even tried paying him with the money I'd gotten. I don't think I did a very good job convincing him. He'd go after you no matter what I said or did. After that, he left and…" he paused and decided not to tell her about his conversation with Millerna, "… and I came to the address. You answered the door."
"Why?" She whispered.
He pressed on the pedal once more and started zipping around the cars on the freeway. He flipped on his headlights. "Why what?"
"Why did you come?" her green eyes were piercing. "Do you realize he'll try to kill you now? This cop guy knows your face."
"Would you believe me if I told you I had nothing better to do this evening?" He grimaced. "Ahem, bad joke, sorry."
"I don't know you. You don't know me. You risked your life for a complete stranger that is targeted for something you have no idea is about. Why would you come to help me?"
Van scratched his nose. "I have my own reasons. Maybe I'll tell you later, maybe not. For now, just believe that I'm here to help you and that I know what I'm doing."
She finally closed her eyes and he felt himself relax. "I trust you. If you wanted to kill me, you would have let that guy do it. If you were a bad person, you wouldn't have come in the first place. So, if you are going to stick around, I need you to take me somewhere."
Van immediately shook his head. "I'm sure anywhere you want to go is where the assassin will be. He's smart and probably has eyes everywhere. It's better to just steer clear of familiar places until we come up with a proper plan."
"I have to see if Allen is okay." She straightened up out of the coat and turned her eyes to the darkening road. "You'll need to turn around on this highway."
"I can't agree to that. Not until I understand what the hell is going on."
"Turn the car around and I'll tell you." She looked at him with a brilliant spark in her eyes. Van was both liked and hated it. She may have spunk, but it turned into a bad thing if she used it against him. He also didn't want to take her anywhere that was probably the most obviously place she'd go next.
But he needed to compromise. Against his better instincts, he said, "Alright, I'll turn around, but I'm not taking you all the way there until I understand what you are being hunted for, get it? And even then, I'll decide if it is safe."
She was silent. Her entire body looked stiff. Finally, she exhaled out of her nose.
"Fine. Start getting over and begin the questions."
"Who is Allen?" Van immediately said. He turned on his blinker, pulled to the right, and got in line to exit the highway.
"Allen was the first one we freed from the collars. Our bikes collided on the field once and we both got thrown. I was okay, but he broke several bones. We decided to take him because he was reacting to the pain. Most pawns are mindless. Anyways, we were afraid for a while that his collar would be traceable and it would detonate if we tried to remove it. As it happened, his collar was defective to begin with. Balgus…" her voice caught, but she took a deep breath and kept going. "Balgus and I were able to spirit him to the hideout. It took about three months of constant work, but he started coming back slowly. It was unbearable to watch his progress, but he turned out to be brilliant. He worked on the functionality of the collars and figured out a way to deactivate their system. That was when we really were solid in the cause of freeing them."
"Wait, wait, wait, this is a lot of information. The cause? What are you talking about?" Van asked confused. Suddenly a lot of things clicked together. "The collars? You mean the motorcycle races that have been going on for the past couple of years? That's what you are in? You know what is happening with that?"
She nodded and sat up even straighter. He saw a flash of strength in her green eyes and a shiver of astonishment ran through him. This girl had some definite courage. Her small fingers grasped at her neck and she pulled off a leather collar with wires on it. He hadn't even noticed her wearing it. "I am a fake 'nap. That's our nickname for the kidnapped. The game calls them 'pawns' and the one that controls the 'pawns' are called 'Masters'. Balgus was my fake Master. I race with the 'naps, but I'm not controlled. I can cause problems and trip the bikes up. It's also good if I try to win a race. Now that many of the Masters have been disqualified, our chances of getting Balgus into the…" She stopped and closed her eyes. "… but Balgus is dead now. So, it doesn't matter anymore." He saw her hands trembling and her grip on the collar tighten so that her knuckles turned white. He resisted the urge to reach out for her. Showing her comfort right now wouldn't help anything. She was trying to hold back her grief and she was right. Now wasn't the time to break down. They needed to concentrate on the next course of action. That meant she needed to keep talking.
"So, you'd sneak into these races and try to trip up the bikes to free the pawns?" He asked, trying to get her back on the subject. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never even thought once about the races being a part of some secret underground where a criminal lord ruled through brainwashing. It sounded almost too farfetched to be real.
"Yeah," she murmured with her sharp green eyes still closed. "The arena is the best time to take them. It's chaos most of the time. Funny thing is it was actually a fluke that we freed Allen and decided to go that route to free 'naps. Honestly, it never crossed our minds that they could be freed. Ever since then, we've saved two or three almost every race. However, my main job was to help Balgus take down Caesar. We tried every way we could think of to infiltrate his little system and gather information."
"How exactly would you do this? Free people? You had to blend with the motorcyclists, right?"
"This collar is Allen's old one. We rewired it. Balgus would pretend to control me in the arena. Allen and several others we've freed would be watching from a GPS signal I have in my collar. As soon as I saw an opportunity for a crash hit, I'd give off the alert and they'd come rushing in. We got two more last night."
"I watched the news this afternoon." Van said, sliding into the U-turn. He ignored the small voice in his head telling him this was a bad idea. "They said that the survivors kept disappearing."
A small smile hit her lips despite the tense expression on her face. Van made the mistake of looking at her in that moment and the warning signal in his head ceased to function. In fact, a lot of his brain's natural motor skills started acting uncharacteristically wobbly. He felt his heart speed up to an unnaturally pace. His palms begun to sweat. Frowning, he grasped the steering wheel harder than he needed to. What is the matter with me? He asked himself with frustration. His mahogany eyes slid back over to her wrapped in his thick jacket and he knew immediately he needed a distraction to get his mind back on track.
"What made you get into this?" She gave him a questioning look. "The games. This overthrowing of an underground criminal lord and motorcycling through the streets." He clarified. "I can't believe you just suddenly jumped into this without any other causes."
"Balgus is…" she paused again and bit her lip. "…was the leader of our resistance. He always knew the political system of this city was corrupted. He kept his reasons to himself as to how he got into this mess. Me, on the other hand, I've always been a bit of a renegade when it came to following the rules. Balgus helped me." Van watched her brush her cheek from the corner of his eye. "My grandma never liked him, but he was a good man. I agreed to help him however I could. He really saved my life back then…"
The black-haired man's was quiet for a moment until he knew she had settled down a bit more. "How many survivors have you rescued?"
She sighed. "Even I don't know the exact amount. The ones we freed after Allen can take care of themselves and the others, but they have no memories. We are able to keep the 'naps relatively comfortable in a private orphanage on the remote outskirts of Austuria. The 'naps can be treated in peace and are tenderly cared for. Even so, most of the 'naps are mentally disfigured from the collars; they kind of lose the will to live. We've lost over ten just this past year. It's horrible. The volunteer nuns are saints. They keep our entire operation a secret as well. Several have even begun started looking for families to return them home. For a while, we worried if our base was too obvious, but as the years passed we realized this was the perfect hiding place. The police can't enter the establishment without written permission from the Mayor and we can see the entire dirt road leading to the building from a third-story window on the right. It is watched practically twenty-four/seven."
"Then they should be fine without you."
"But they won't have any warning!"
"So, you want to warn them? Why not call?"
"Didn't bring my cell."
"And I threw away my phone because the assassin has probably already traced it." Van answered his own question with a sigh.
She nodded. "I have to alert the nuns to evacuate. They will know what to do. I can't just run away and leave them for slaughter. Especially the 'naps. They just got a second chance at life. I cannot do that to them. I cannot..." She turned to him and pierced him once more with those bright green eyes. He felt her sharp gaze like little pinpricks on his face. "Please, Mr. Fanel. This is to save lives. How could I live with myself? You should understand my feelings. You saved my life in risk of your own."
Van was quiet. Racing down the highway in the opposite direction, he swallowed down the rising warnings. His instincts yelled at him to stop. Turn around. Don't go that way.
He made another mistake.
He looked into her eyes again.
"I'll do it." He said quietly. "And please, call me Van."
BEEEP – You have three new messages – First message – "Hey, Tomi... Tomi… Tomi… I have something to tell you, but you're not going to believe it. I need you to see me soon. Okay? Okay. It's okay. It's all okay. The dark in this room is okay. The 'nap is really having a tough time, but I don't want you to meet him because then he might like you and I don't like that… I mean, I do… I mean… Tomi?... Please, come see me… k'bye!"
-End of message - To erase this message, press 7. To save it, press 9.
The silver-haired man smirked. Looking at the cellphone, he pressed 9.
Your message is saved – next message – "I'm waiting still… Why didn't you call me back, Tomi? I'm sitting here at the orphanage… It's lonely here without you… Wait. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean for it to sound… I mean, I don't care if you come… I'll watch the dirt road. The 'nap is awake now. Sister Merle told me he'll be in and out for a while. I shouldn't be on the phone…The sisters are going to get mad when they see me, so I better go… Please, come see me…k'bye!"
-End of message - To erase this message, press 7. To save it, press 9.
Nudging through the yellow satchel, Dilandau pressed 9 once more. Standing up from the kitchen chair, he glanced down with bored eyes at the prone bodies lying before him.
Your message is saved - next message - "I know that I just called you, but the 'nap is saying all this stuff and you reeeeaaallly need to hear it! I want to see your face when you hear what he says. He knows who Caesar is! He knows everything! You gotta come now, Tomi! He will save us all because he had a collar just like mine! I got in trouble with the sisters because I kept yelling, but that was only because I'm so excited and I know that you need to come hear it, too! I don't want you to listen too much though because then he might start to like you... Not that I care about that... You know where the orphanage is? On FM 120? Of course, you know where it is! (There was a loud thudding noise) I just hit my head with the door because I'm so stupid to say that. I... I miss you... Please, come see me... k'bye!"
He tossed the phone and drew up his own mini-computer. Whistling a happy tune, he casually flipped in the coordinates.
Not too long now...
"This is where it is?" Van asked skeptically as he turned onto a dirt road off another unsettling FM road. The tall trees lined the dark pathway, some leaning so far that they brushed the top of his navy truck. His bad feeling skyrocketed as his left wheel hit a pot hole and Hitomi let out small squeal.
"Sorry about that! I forgot to warn you about the holes in the road."
Van sighed. Curse her eyes, he thought bitterly. Who knew I was such a sucker?
"The orphanage is further back. You'll know when you see it." She started unbuckling her seatbelt and Van frowned.
"I'll go in," the black-haired man said swiftly. "Just in case the assassin is there. I want you to stay in the truck where it's safe. If I don't come out in three minutes, you'll need to drive away as fast as you can. And if you do, make sure to find a deserted place and try to pick up another vehicle. Maybe I should have told you how to hotwire a car."
The girl exhaled out of her mouth and blew her bangs off her forehead. "Look, Mr. Fanel-"
"Van," he immediately corrected.
"Van," she emphasized. "I appreciate you saving my life and risking yours to protect me, but you can't stop me from going in there. These people are my friends. I can't just wait here like some damsel in distress."
Damsel in distress, you are not. He thought giving her a sideways glance. You cried for about twenty minutes for people who just died right in front of you. Somehow you've forced me of all people to drive you right into danger once more. Probably right into the assassin's hands. You're crazy, but you are no damsel in distress.
"There it is!" She shouted, startling Van slightly. He looked out his windshield and noticed a large, three-story building emerging from the tall trees like a silent giant. There were only several lights on in the upper windows. The black-haired man glanced at the clock. Ten past eight.
They either had a very early bedtime or he had just made a dreadful mistake.
"Is it usually this dark here?" He asked pulling the car around to the front. The building reeked with ominous foreboding. To his surprise, Hitomi nodded.
"They like to keep it dark. For some reason, bright light really sets off the anxiety in newly freed 'naps. I wonder if Allen's been able to take care of the collars from last night. He told me they were a newer model from what he was used to, so it might have taken him a while."
Van pulled the truck into park and she opened the door. He reached out and caught the arm of the jacket as she was trying to leave. She looked at him questioningly.
"Trust me when I say that this is a bad idea, Miss Kanzaki. I have good instincts and they are all telling me to run away from this place right now. I want you to stay behind me at all times. If the assassin shows up, promise me you will do exactly what I say when I say it. Don't question. Just do. Got it?"
Their eyes locked together. He saw the swirls of emotions flashing through her mind. Her green eyes tightened. She nodded. Van let her go and climbed out of the driver's side. Leading the way to the front door, he felt a small, cold hand grab his fingers and he jumped in surprise.
"Not through the front. There's a side entrance. That's the door I usually take. It's this way." She pulled him to the left, her bare feet crunching the blades of grass. He followed obediently wondering why he was unable to say a word back.
She led him to a dark wooden door just around the long building. Van gently pulled her behind him, let go of her hand, and reached into the back of his jeans for the pistol. Her eyes widened.
"Don't bring that out!" she hissed. "The poor 'naps will go crazy!"
"If they are even alive…" the black-haired man whispered back, giving her a frown. He watched her purse her lips, but look away.
As Van reached to knock on the door, it opened wildly and hit him square in the face. He almost fell to the ground. Catching himself on the wall, he held his hrobbing nose as a tall, long-haired man ran like a blur out the door and swept up Hitomi into his arms.
"TOMI, TOMI, TOMI, TOMI!" The man was spinning her around, her feet dangling off the ground.
"Allen! You scared me! Put me down!"
Van straightened up and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes as Allen let go of her and her feet fell safely on the grassy ground. "We've been waiting for you! The collars are off! I did it! I'm the best! The sisters are tending to their wounds right now, but one of them is like me!"
Van watched Hitomi blink in surprise. "He's like you? You mean, he remembers who his Master was? He remembers-"
"He remembers EVERYTHING!" Allen announced happily, grabbing her hand and tugging her into the building. "You have got to talk to him!"
"Hold on, Allen. Wait a second." She gently removed the taller man's grip on her hand and looked up at Van. "Are you okay, Mr. Fanel? You got hit pretty hard with the door." She walked towards him with pure concerned on her smooth face. Despite the back of his brain still urging to leave the area, Van's entire attention was on the look she was giving him. He saw from the corner of his eye Allen give him an undeniable scowl. He smiled meekly – his hand leaving his aching nose - and nodded. He was surprised as she reached out and gently touched his shoulder. The cold from her fingers went through his shirt. Her green eyes traveled down to the gun in his hand.
"Please, put the weapon away." She whispered. "I'll tell the sisters to begin evacuation, but I cannot have the poor freed 'naps getting upset. It will be hard enough without them freaking out over the gun, okay? I'll hear what this new one remembers and then I promise we will leave."
He sighed and couldn't explain the mild disappointment running with the relief of leaving soon.
"Let's go in, then." He said, trying to keep the expression off his face. "And please, call me Van."
Van followed Hitomi and Allen inside and shut the door behind him with a careful 'click'. Keeping a tan hand close to his back where the gun was tucked away, his mahogany eyes switched from corner to corner. The darkness wasn't as encompassing as he thought it would be. Van realized with relief that he could see quite easily. Allen led the way through another wooden door and they all entered a long hallway. Small lights were attached to the bottom of the walls along every other door allowing for plenty of light to see by. The dark wooden panels along the walls held pictures of various smiling children. A long, purple, walkway carpet spread all the way down to the end. Suddenly, a shadowed figure emerged from several doors down. Van reached back for the weapon, but he froze at the sound of the voice.
"My dear Hitomi, is that you? What brings you here so late at night? Allen hasn't been playing with the phone line again, right?"
"Sister Merle Margaret! Just the person I wanted to see!" the short-haired girl sounded relieved as she brushed passed Allen and met the human shape waiting for her. Van tried to walk with her, but Allen's long arm snaked out and blocked his way. The taller man had the same scowl on his face from before.
"Who are you?" He asked, his blue eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Hitomi never brings anyone but collared 'naps, Grandma Nina, or Balgus."
Van cleared his throat for a moment and thought quickly. "I'm going to be… riding the motorcycles like she does... She was just going to show me around. I'll be saving the 'naps from today on. So, please," he nodded politely at Allen, "take care of me."
The blond man's face remained skeptical, but he raised his arm enough for Van to duck underneath and continue to where Hitomi was whispering.
"…get them out as soon as you can. I'll speak to the new 'nap, but you must start evacuating."
"Good God in heaven," the nun breathed. Her hand had flown to her chest. "They're dead? Balgus and Nina…"
"Please, Merle," Hitomi grabbed the nun's robed shoulders. "He's could be here any minute. Get all the sisters together. Get the 'naps out now." She suddenly hugged the woman tightly. Letting her go with a nod, she turned to Allen – who immediately stood straight and beamed at her.
"Take me to the 'nap."
"This way," the blond smirked at Van as he continued down the hall. Van trailed behind still watching the shadows.
End of Part 1! Part 2 will be up hopefully this next week. But I do have a bit happening coming up. I'm leaving for Illinois to see my sister for five days. I'll try to write like a fiend. This was a long section, so I hope you'll forgive me if it takes a couple of days.
Thanks for reading! Be excited about Part 2! Once again a big thank you to Nai for helping me create more clarifying scenes and fixing up some major sentence structure issues.
Questions, confusions, irritations? I'll only know if you type them below. :) I appreciate everyone even click on this to read it. Thank you!
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