A/N: The fic was written by 'Purple Reptar' and myself. First co-writing experience! And I, (RSWS), really hope people enjoy it. This first chapter is not too, too long for the simple fact that we'd like to see if people actually feel that its worth continuing, that being said, reviews would be gladly appreciated. Funny thing is we actually finised writing this a while back, but it took us forever to come up with the darn title! Anywho, here it is!
Chapter one
New York, one of the most beautiful chaotic places in the United States. The neon lights and city cars rushing through Times Square, honking their horns angrily at yet another traffic jam, immensely tall skyscrapers touching the clouds in the bright blue sky above, giving you that enclosed feeling. Busy streets filled with yellow cabs hauling business men and other locals to work. Sidewalks always accompanied by hundreds of pedestrians, window shopping for their favorite designers. The New York air is polluted with chatter and gossip of the latest celebrity dish and stock market numbers.
But, New York now in 2046 it is far from beautiful and the only thing chaotic is the millions of people who are dropping dead in the middle of the streets, at random hours of the day. The sky is no longer blue and the only time you see clouds is when a harsh storm rolls in from the west. The sky now a dark green pigment with dark gray specs spotted within it, as if God took a gray magic marker and decided to color one evening.
The streets that were once filled with cars piled twenty blocks back were now deserted. Those cars lay in various places, some crashed into the side of local buildings, and others tipped upside down, brunt from the explosion as the driver crashed. The noise and chaos that was once New York was gone, it was quiet, dead quiet.
The only sounds that could be heard were of the people walking around aimlessly struggling to stay alive as they slowly subtracted their number from the New York's population, which was quickly decreasing by the day.
Their bodies lay limp on the sidewalk, in the middle of the streets, alley ways and in cars. None of them knowing when their time was up and they were going to die. New York was now a wasteland and a feeding ground for rabies infested rats, because of a disease called Kahniziem-Azothermia and a local drug dealer Alex Karev took it upon himself to take advantage of the infected people of New York. By recruiting a strong team to help him, retrieve uninfected blood and money from his customers.
The uninfected blood helped the infected humans ease their pain, but the numbness was only temporary, and Alex knew he needed more or he was going to lose money, he wanted the cure and with the help of his team that is what he was going to get.
"Where's the fuckin' safe?" Callie yells mustering up the most threatening voice she could manage.
"I don't know." the small man whimpers lifting is hands in a defeated manner as he watches Mark press the knife harder against his wife's neck. A loud bang causes everyone to redirect their attention to the direction of the noise.
"Found it!" Burke yells from the child's room. "I need the combination."
"What is it?" Callie returns her gaze to the weeping man.
"I-I-I don't remember," he cries.
"Oh, y-y-you don't know?" Callie mocks his stuttering, "Well maybe your wife's dead carcass will help refresh your fucking memory," Callie shouts angrily, cocking her gun and raising it to point directly at his wife's head, causing Mark to loosen his grip on the woman and take a step back.
"No! Please!" his high pitched cries pierce the Latina's ears like freshly sharpened daggers.
"GIVE ME THE FUCKING COMBINATION!" she seethes, turning her pistol sideways she refocuses her attention on the woman's violently shaking body.
"George!" the woman cries hysterically. At the sight of Callie's finger moving toward the trigger, she squeezes her eyes shut, silently praying for a miracle of sorts.
"PLEASE!" he cried.
"You've got three seconds...3..." Callie starts her count down.
"Oh God, I'm gonna die, Please God help me…" The woman's hysterical sobs start to pose a threat to Callie's composure.
"2!..." Callie shouts, hoping that no one was able to detect the slight waver in her voice.
"I REMEMBER NOW! I REMEMBER! DON'T SHOOT! PLEASE!" George pleads, failing his arms about signifying he'd been ready and willing to co-operate with Callie's request. Callie felt her relief set in immediately. Mark grabbed hold of the woman once again. Grabbing a fist full of her hair tightly, he swiftly brings his blade back to the side of her neck. She turned her attention back to George, fixing him with a questioning glare as she waited for the combination numbers to be voiced. "Uhm I-it's twenty-two ahh...uhm thirty no uhm twenty-two, thirty-five... uhm... it's uhh...oh God please ...uhm it's..." George stutters, his voice getting louder as the panic starts setting yet again when he sees Callie lift and then point her gun at is wife for the second time.
" SIX!" His wife screams! "Twenty-two, thirty-five, six!"
"Got it!" shouts Burke. He carelessly tosses the few stacks of cash and the diamond ring he finds inside the safe into a black duffel bag before heading out to the join the others in the living room.
"Only had a couple hundreds eight, maybe nine hundred at the most. Karev's going to be really pissed," he says handing the bag to Callie
"Check the drawers in their room" Callie ordered Burke as she hands him back the duffel bag.
"My pleasure." He smirks devilishly. Locking eyes with George's wife, he extends his arm out to swipe off all the family photos and expensive vases off the fireplace causing the items to fall to the floor and shatter.
George and his wife both gasp at Burke's actions.
"Maybe if you'd paid your debt on time we wouldn't have to trash the place, now would we?" Callie says as she pushes the smaller man roughly against the wall.
George violently shakes his head as he clenches his eyes shut blinking away unshed tears of fear.
"I thought I asked you a question?" Callie pushes him against the wall yet again.
"Yes…Yes…I'm sorry I'll pay on time from now on. Please don't hurt us." He cries reaching for his wife's hand.
"Find anything else?" Mark asks Burke as he makes his way back into the living room.
"No a couple necklaces that probably aren't worth shit and a few twenties." He answers and lifts up the black duffel bag.
"Please don't hurt us." George pleads again.
"We're not going to hurt you, at least not this time." Callie quickly lets George go and looks over to Mark telling him to release his wife.
Mark and Burke follow the Latina to the front door, the two men walk outside.
"O'Malley!" Callie yells getting the shaken mans attention.
The short man looks up into her darkened hollow eyes.
She raises her gun slowly and cocks it to the side, with one swift flick of her index finger she sent a bullet flying across the room, landing right between George and his wife's head in the middle of the wall.
Callie lowered her gun slowly, "Next time that will be you." She says coldly as she slams the front door shut.
The three of them made their way back to Karev's warehouse in downtown New York. The atmosphere was dark and haunting. The sky was almost a charcoal black and the air was bitter. The long gray abandoned building was decorated with colorful graffiti from local artists. The sidewalks outside were covered with trash, even a few dead bodies.
"Did O'Malley cooperate?" Alex asks them while he jumps down from the car hood he was sitting on.
"No, we had to rough him up a little. Torres here almost killed his old lady this time." Mark laughs as he nudges the Latina with his shoulder.
"I wasn't really going to shoot her." Callie protests.
Alex stares at the Latina as he saunters over to her, sizing her up like a predator would its prey. "Of course you would have, you're the cold hearted, bad-ass I molded you into. You're just like me." He says stepping closer, lifting a finger to trace lightly down the valley between Callie's breasts. "You are my creation. I made you. You're mine" He says with an evil glint in his eye that's strong enough to make Callie visibly shiver.
"I do not belong to anyone. And I am no one's fuckin' property to claim," swatting his hand away, she takes a step back. Karev all but lunges at her, grabbing her chin roughly, squeezing the soft flesh between is thumb and index finger.
"You. Are. My. Property. Until your father pays off his debt, I own you." He breathes, his breath washing across her face. Before Callie could even reply she felt his lips roughly press against her own, his hand entangled in her shoulder length raven colored locks.
"Stop" She grunts loudly against his lips, pushing him away with all the force she could convene. She could feel the tears and anger building up within her. As they locked gazes, she felt her fists tighten at the sound of Karev's taunting laughter. She watched him push himself up from of the car she'd pushed him on to his lecherous smirk causing her temperature to skyrocket.
She wanted nothing more than to snatch the gun from her back pocket and send a bullet right through the middle of his satanic eyes. She fought the urge, knowing that if she would have tried anything, she'd regret it instantly since Karev's got an army of men that would take her out the moment she seemed to pose a threat and her own army only consisted of herself and Mark. With that thought in mind she forced herself to keep the violent tears at bay. She angrily stalked off, seeking the sad excuse for a room that Alex had given her when she'd arrived 7 years ago.
On the walk there she could no longer contain the tears. On nights like these, she'd contemplate running away, but would always decide against it. She knew they would find her and that if by some miracle Alex's minions didn't find her, they'd go after her family. She was stuck. The only thing that kept her going was the hope that her father would stay true to his word and come for her soon.
"Pronto nos encontraremos otra extraсo mucho papa," She whispers as the tears slide swiftly down her reddened cheeks.
Let us know what you think :)