Hey guys.
Before you say anything, I'M SORRY.
School, man. It's rough.
Anyways, I have been really wanting to get a jump start on my new story! I've been kinda brainstorming for a while and I think it's going to be a lot of fun. Be cautious, it may have some adult themes like violence, drugs, cursing, abuse, etc etc. If you've read my other story 'Once Upon a Secret', you know what I'm talking about.
Also, note that I may not try as hard to stay accurate with character personalities. I might make them similar, but I don't think they'll be the same as the original Max Ride characters. I apologize in advance.
I hope you enjoy and even if you don't, let me know in a review! I'm always looking for suggestions, tips and criticism.
Love you!
-wise_yet_harmless
MAX'S POINT OF VIEW
You might consider a girl walking around at night be herself a dangerous situation. I mean, given that sort of information is probably would be. But I'm no ordinary girl. I'm different.
Gal, that sound pretentious. Like, can we get any more girly novel sounding? Gross. Let's try that again. Actually- just forget I said anything like that at all. Lemme start from scratch.
*clears throat*
My name is Max. Maximum, if you're some stuffy old person who refuses to call anyone by their nicknames. I'd say I look like any other stereotypical white teenage girl- tall, thin and blonde with an attitude. Not that I'm a jerk or anything, but...you'll see what I mean later.
But back to my original point, I may look pretty average, but I'm not really. I've been sort of on my own for a while and I've gained some pretty interesting skills. Like, dumpster diving, pick pocketing, lying and most of all...street fighting. I'm not the type to try and pick a fight- I just know how to win one.
See, around here you gotta give yourself a reputation. There are the rich, snooty types who live on the hill who I call 'clickers'(the jewelery and heels click when they walk by), the drug dealing cool types that live on the docks that I call 'seaweeds' (get it? cuz sea and weed...nevermind) and there are the quiet, somewhat threatening types like myself who live in the heart of the city. We're called 'cellars' cuz' we're the bottom of the food chain and the least respected around here, until you make us angry.
A clicker will sue you and insult you, and a seaweed might have one of his thugs straighten you out, but a cellar will ruin you. We know everything about the city; where to hide, where to run. We know how the cops and the people work. We know stealth, not style. It makes us more dangerous, if we choose to be.
I wouldn't say that we're gangs or anything. Clickers fight more amongst themselves to get anything done, the seaweeds are too full of themselves to follow orders and cellars prefer the solitude. But we will, if needed, protect our own. You don't hurt a seaweed or a clicker and not expect the rest of them to be after you. It's like that weird 'I'm the only one who can hurt them' mentality. So we keep our distance. We may be in the same offices together and sometimes drink in the same bars, but most of the time we stay near our own turf.
Which is why I'm okay walking the streets alone at night. I like to keep an eye out. I never sleep at night because night is when things go down. I don't want to be asleep for that. It's much more dangerous.
Plus, the night is so much more thrilling. People change at night. They become more animal- like the light was the only thing keeping them in check. They say and do things they wouldn't normally, even if they're not intoxicated.
So I wander.
On this particular night there had been a couple robberies- somewhere on the border of the seaweed's turf. That wasn't uncommon as the cellars were generally poor and some of them were addicted to the drugs that the seaweeds dealt. If you were caught stealing from another group, you'd probably be killed. Or, if you were young and healthier, you'd be recruited as a body guard or servant. Either way sucked pretty badly.
With the drama going on tonight, I was extra cautious, not wanting to be mistaken as the criminals in question. Like I said, I don't go looking for trouble. Although, somehow, it always seems to find me.
Anyways, I was planning to go the bar to people watch. Maybe relieve a couple of clickers of their change and just enjoy myself. I didn't drink much, but I would often go for a soda.
While I was still a mile or so away, I heard commotion coming from an alleyway behind me. Not wanting to stick around for a scene, I ducked behind a building close to me and listened hard. There was shouting, loud bangs and a couple gun shots.
Well, crap. That sounds like a raid.
After the gunshots quieted down, it was silent. I figured the conflict was over and attempted to move from my hiding position to scram before the cops showed up. When I moved, two hands reached out form the darkness I had been in and grabbed me, pulling me back behind the building.
I had long learned not to cry out when startled, and I silently fought my attacker. They were stronger than me, however, and managed to clamp a hand on my mouth and pin my arm against my back, rendering me helpless. Based on their hand size and shape I assumed it was a teenage male. The boy pulled me up against him, releasing me a moment before grabbing me around my midriff while the other hand pushed a hard gun barrel into my lower back.
"If you scream or fight me, I will kill you," the boy whispered. He held me so tightly I couldn't turn around to see his face, though I was dying to know who was attacking me. What did he want with me?
"Who are you?" I whispered back angrily, clenching my fists. I wasn't about to fight against a gun, but I was seriously pissed.
"Don't move," he commanded, pushing the gun harder into my side and avoiding my question. I noticed that his voice shook when he spoke. So he probably wasn't a seaweed, or at least, he wasn't very good at it.
"What do you-" I was cut off as he brought his hand back to my mouth. I could feel his breath on my ear as he leaned down to whisper again.
"Be quiet. If you don't shut up, we'll both be dead. I'm trying to save your life, so do what I tell you. In about thirty seconds, you're going to hear a man walk over here, looking for you. He is armed and will attack you instantly if he finds you. You're going to stay right here and hide until he moves on. Then you're going to follow me out of here and I'll take you somewhere safe until he gives up. If you resist or don't listen, I'll let him have you. He will not be as kind just to kill you right off, so you better listen. Got it?"
Listen to the psychopath with the gun right now and hope he isn't trying to kidnap me or wait for another psychopath with a gun and hope he doesn't kidnap me. Choices...
I considered my options carefully. This kid seemed strong but inexperienced, so I knew I could get away from him if needed. The other guy sounded scarier. I decided to go along with this kid until he slipped up and I could get away.
I nodded into his hand and he sighed in relief, easing his grip a little. Not enough that I could move away or speak, but it didn't hurt anymore.
Suddenly, I heard the sounds of more gunshots and a scream pierce the air. Running footsteps echoed down the street and got louder with every step. The person in question turned, making their way to where we were hidden.
I heard the person cock a handgun and crack their neck. They moved closer and closer until I could hear them breathing. With the next step, they came into view from a small hole in the wall I was hiding behind.
There stood a tall, ghostly figure. The man was thin and pale as death. He had on a white suit, stained with fresh blood. His revolver had a long steel barrel that reflected the moonlight. He looked like he was in his early twenties. Based off his natural swagger and choice of weapon, I guessed he was either a successful seaweed or a hardcore clicker. He wore sunglasses in the middle of the night, which was strange. Only after he cocked his head around and sniffed the air did I realize he was blind. He must have been listening for us and I instinctively held my breath. I think the kid behind me was doing the same.
After what felt like an eternity, the man turned on his heel and ran out of the alley, going further down the street. I silently sucked in breath, relieved. My captor, however, stayed still as stone for another ten minutes before he moved.
"Alright," he whispered, using his gun to point to the street on my left, "we go that way."
His gripped never left my arm and his gun never lowered as he escorted me out of the alleyway and down the street. I considered tying to knock the gun out of his hand, but his grip looked so tight I figured he wasn't about to give it up. I also thought about asking him a question or two, but i didn't want to upset him and have him shoot me. So I stayed quiet, occasionally letting my eyes drift to him to study what he looked like for later revenge.
He was tall and thin like the blind guy, but he was dressed completely in black. He wore black jeans, black sneakers and a black hoodie that all matched his wavy black hair. While the blind guy gave off a sense of power, this kid gave off a sense of mystery.
I couldn't decide which group he belonged to, if any. He had good posture like a clicker, had a fancy gun like a seaweed but dressed in simple clothing like a cellar. I doubted he was one of the few citizens who didn't belong in any category- they generally stayed clear out of the way of this kind of stuff.
While I pondered this, the boy had led me down to the edge of town to a sleazy night club/motel. It didn't help me figure out who he was because it was a place that anyone could go to without trouble. It was one of the neutral places where people with friends in different groups would hang out and get drunk. The boy pushed me inside, his gun now hidden under my thin jacket.
We went passed the bar, through the sea of dancing people, up the stairs and to one of the motel rooms. The door wasn't locked and hung slightly open, so I pushed through, hoping no one was already inside.
It was empty- emptier than it should have been. There was no bed, dressers or windows- just a table and a few chairs. The kid led me over to one of them and let me sit down, promptly pulling a zip tie out of his pocket and connecting my wrists to the side of the chair. When he was satisfied he sat across from me, resting his hand with the gun on the table between us.
For the first time the kid looked directly at me and I noticed just how dark his eyes were. Like an almost black purple color. He had a piercing stare, one that made it hard to look away. We sat in silence, staring at one another for what seemed like forever until I broke the silence.
"Who was that blind chump? What's his deal?"
"He's a drug lord."
"Well, that much I could have guessed. But what did he want with me? I don't buy."
"It wasn't just you- its people like you."
"What'dya mean?"
"Nothing. Be quiet."
Can we say rude?
"Excuse me, but I think I deserve to know why I've been kidnapped and why-"
"I said be quiet. People will hear you," he interrupted, his voice cold.
"Look. I'll explain, but not now."
"So what am I supposed to do? Just sit here?"
"Yeah. For now."
Now I was annoyed. Not only was I trapped, but this kid was seriously pissing me off. I didn't have time for this crap. Not only that, but I was getting nervous. What did he want from me? I mean, he took me here of all places. You know what I'm talking about. I'm not an idiot.
But nothing happened. We literally stayed that way for upwards of an hour. Him holding the gun, watching me without any expression whatsoever and me glaring back, mentally kicking him in the face.
Just when I thought I was going to start screaming just to get this over with, I heard a beeping noise. The kid reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone, checking it. He opened it, read the text, replied and put the phone back. He seemed relieved.
"Alright. He's gone."
"Who is he? Lord of drugs and bleach?"
"Don't call him that. You could get in real trouble. He doesn't take offense easily."
"You think fancy pants scares me? Are you kidding?"
"He should. He's a lot more powerful that you think."
"Well maybe you should freaking explain so I know."
"His name's Iggy. Most people call him 'The Angel' because he dresses like one, even though he's pretty much the devil. It's like an inside joke that isn't funny. Anyway, he's been having some deals go sour lately, like the fight we heard. People die. He doesn't like killing unless he has to-"
"Let me guess. The dry cleaning is just horrendous," I said, rolling my eyes. The kid gave me a hard stare before continuing.
"He uses people in other ways, when he can. Slaves, bait, experiments for drugs and, sometimes, entertainment," he said, looking at me for the last one. My cheeks started to burn and I clenched my teeth, angry and horrified.
"But he has been looking for you in particular. Don't know why. He's had people watching you for over a week now. Only tonight has he gotten the chance to try and hunt you down."
"What? Why me? What do I have that a crazy drug dealer doesn't?"
The kid shrugged, looking frustrated. "Dunno. But he will do anything to get what he wants. I brought you here to warn you. Do not trust anyone, do not tell anyone about this and do not, under any circumstances, let him find you."
"And why should I trust you?" I spat, annoyed. Nobody tells me what to do. No way.
"Because you'd be dead if I hadn't come along."
"Who says? I can take care of myself!"
"Max, you don't even know who you're up against here. Stop being reckless and big headed. I'm not saying you can't- I'm just saying watch your back."
"How do you know my name?"
"I know a lot. I get around."
"Who are you?"
"It doesn't matter." The kid checked his phone again, noting the time. "The sun'll be up soon. When you wake up, I'll be long gone. Don't look for me or tell anyone you saw me or you'll end up dead- got it? Just stay quiet, stay hidden and stay away until this all dies down. Iggy will be leaving in a little while on some business. I don't think he'll be back. Word will spread of him leaving and his second in command taking over. That's how you'll know he's gone and you're safe."
While he spoke, he set the gun down next to him and pulled a bottle and rag out of his pocket. He sprinkled the bottle onto the rag before closing it and putting it away. He moved over to me and I knew instantly that he was handling chloroform. I tried to squirm away but he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to look up at him. He gave me a cocky half smile and lifted the rag to my face.
"Oh, and Max? Good luck."
The world got blurry and my limbs felt heavy. It was only moments before my body gave up and was enveloped in the warm darkness.
