Bulletproof
A/N: Guess who's back? Yep, she lives again.
My apologies for the eternal wait but, as I told some of you, I was very busy. After the writer's block, last year of high school came up and I had to focus on my exams. All done now, so I'm back! I'm deeply sorry if it looked like I had forgotten about the story, I just wanted to take my time and write it well.
For those who haven't given up on me, here's what's new:
Bulletproof changed. Big time. The original idea is still there and some situations may look the same, but many changes have been made. So, forget what you knew till now and expect the unexpected.
Enjoy!
Seaford, Delaware - 2:56 AM
Week 1
She dreams of choking until her own hands loosen their grip.
Kim kicks the covers off, swipes the sweat of her face. She has nightmares about drowning, burning houses with her inside. Sometimes they are about her family; those are the ones that make her scream the loudest.
2:57 AM
The town sleeps under the moonlight while Kim lies awake in the darkness of her room.
Her throat feels dry. She ponders getting up and going to the kitchen for a cup of water. She doubts her restless body will find any slumber, anyway.
She grabs her cell phone and drags her feet out of the room. Her eyes adjust to obscurity as she reaches the living room. It's a small apartment, the complete opposite of her house in California. When they moved here, Aunt Sasha ached for a new beginning; not to forget, but to move on, she said.
Kim has never had such faith in optimism.
She walks to the fridge. Her hand barely brushes the handle when a shiver makes her jolt. Kim looks for any source of chilly air, but the window is locked.
It happens in the blink of an eye.
A large rock smashes the window, sending pieces of shattered glass all across the kitchen. The noise is ear-piercing and so unexpected, Kim screams and dives under the table. A splinter of glass scrapes her palm as she crawls between the chairs. She holds her head and pants, her heart thumping with fury.
She sees a shadow next to the table. Then two feet. Dark grey combat boots. Kim presses both hands on her mouth, holds her breath with jealousy. She preys for those shoes go away; she begs for someone to come and rescue her. All of a sudden, she is truly afraid to die.
The boots disappear, but two hands take their place. Somebody is screaming. Kim does not recognize her own voice until she is scratching those hands, tearing the skin. They are strong though; soon she is grasping the legs of the table as the claws tug her ankles. They jab her thigh with something sharp and she lets go. Her scream is deafening.
Kim is on her back, the intruder above her. He is tough and heavy and his large hands close around her frail neck. Her brown eyes widen, her mouth opens in a muted cry. She lifts her arms, pulls at the ski mask that hides his face. Her nails tear his cheekbone and he growls, like a wild animal. He tightens his grasp, presses his thumb on her throat.
It is like in her nightmare. All strengths abandon her as she chokes. She stares at her aggressor in the eye, unable to move. A tear trails her temple.
He leans in, a breath from her mouth. "It doesn't matter where you hide. We'll find you." He smirks, "The hunt has just begun."
He releases her neck and Kim gasps, her breathing coming out in rasps. She flips on her stomach, grips her throat with one hand and the chair with the other. Her chest is on fire and it hurts to cough. She tastes blood.
When she manages to sit up, the intruder is gone. The window is gone, too. Confused voices come from the street and the distant sound of sirens is heard.
One voice echoes in Kim's head. A voice she believed had died with her parents long ago.
The hunt has just begun.
They are coming for her. And she has nowhere to run to.
The apartment looks like the crime scene of a television show. Yellow tape surrounds the kitchen, men dressed in black take photographs of her blood stains.
Somebody must have called the police and now half neighborhood surrounds her block.
DO NOT CROSS - DO NOT CROSS - DO NOT CROSS
The ambulance is parked in the front yard and Kim sits on a gurney. One of the paramedics points a tiny light at her left eye.
"Can you tell me your full name, please?"
"Kimberly Chloe Crawford." Her voice comes out hoarse. The orthopedic collar makes it hard to talk.
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
The lady holds up one hand. "How many fingers?"
"Three."
She puts the flashlight in her bag. "All right, you don't have a concussion. I'll be back to clean the cuts." The paramadic says.
As soon as she's gone, Kim reaches behind and unclasps the collar. Her neck hurts and even gulping is painful.
She has a bitter, metallic taste on her tongue and, when she blinks, she can still see flashes of that guy choking her. Her hands tremble. Cold tears drop on her fingertips. She wishes she could wake up from this dream.
A dark blue car brakes noisily. The door opens and her aunt comes out running. She is still in her nurse uniform.
"Kim! Oh my God, honey, are you okay?"
She climbs on the ambulance and hugs her tight.
"Auntie," Kim breathes, "I'm so glad you're here."
Aunt Sasha takes her face in her hands. "I came as soon as I could, sweetie. What happened? Mrs Bell called me and tried to explain, but - someone attacked you? Are you hurt? Let me see."
Kim moves hair from her neck.
A light gasp escapes her aunt's lips. She moves her fingers toward the violacious skin, and Kim jumps at slight contact. Aunt Sasha looks at her, her eyes filled with tears.
"S.C.A.R. knows where we live, auntie." Kim says, "They sent a burglar to warn me. He broke in through the window and tried to strangle me."
Aunt Sasha hushes her. "Don't force your voice and wear the collar, sweetheart." She glances behind her, "Did they catch him?"
"No." Kim bit the inside of her lip. "The cops came too late, of course."
"What? Didn't the alarm went off when he broke in?"
"The house security system had been deactivated before the intrusion," says a voice from behind. "I'm Detective Craig, Seaford Police Department."
Aunt Sasha shakes his hand. "I'm Sasha Collins and this is-"
"I know who you are, Ms Collins. Nice to meet you. I'll be responsible for your case from now on. Ms Crawford." He shakes Kim's hand. "As I was saying, it was impossible for the alarm to go off. It was all planned. In fact, they also knew that you'd be at the hospital, which gave them the opportunity to attack."
"All planned?" Aunt Sasha ask, "For how long? Have they been following us?"
"And watching you."
Detective Craig walks nearer to the house, then he beckons to them to come forward. He stands under a maple and points upwards. Kim's eyes follow the finger. She spots a micro-camera hidden among the branches. Her hands curl into fists.
"S.C.A.R. stalks its targets with maniacal precision. If what happened tonight was a warning, another aggression is surely to be expected."
A target. That is what she is for them. Something to aim at and shoot down.
"They're never gonna stop." Kim says. "There's always gonna be another aggression. They'll keep coming at me until they succeed and kill me."
"Unfortunately, that is true," says Detective Craig. "For them, you're a threat who needs to be eliminated."
Kim scoffs. "How threatening can I be? I'm seventeen."
The question she has been asking herself for years. S.C.A.R. is a mafia; it is a group of professional criminals, people who have murdered famous entrepreneurs and country leaders. She is a junior at Seaford High. She became a threat the night Armando Del Capo ordered the murder of her parents, nine years ago. All he had to do was snap his fingers and the house took fire. Kim survived and S.C.A.R. has been after her since then.
She should have died in that fire, too.
Aunt Sasha takes her hand, but her attention stays on the detective. "Is there something we can do to prevent these attacks from happening again? To protect her?"
"The best option is not to leave the building." says Detective Craig. "We have cleared it from any recording device, so S.C.A.R. will not be able to observe your moves anymore. But Kimberly must stay inside. No school or any extracurricular activities. We can't take any risks."
"For how long?"
"For as long as it's necessary, Ms Collins," replies the detective. "The Department will start the investigation on the intruder this morning. In the meanwhile, officers will take turns and will surveil the building 24/7. I'll also send someone to repair the security system and place some of our cameras."
While Detective Craig keeps talking, Kim's ears block out all sounds. His lips move in slow motion, the chatter around her turns into muffled noise. The cops clear the area with snail-like speed; the forensics are frozen in place.
Her feet are moving. She ducks under the barricade tape.
"Miss, you can't be here. Forensic investigation is underway."
Her legs guide her inside. The apartment is on the first floor, the door is ajar. The glass is still under the kitchen table. Her blood still stains the flooring.
"Hey, you! Get out of here!"
Someone is laughing. A maniacal, blood-chilling laugh, right in her left ear. Her breath grows uneven, her throat dries.
There is a girl on the floor. She lies on the shattered glass. Her blood is dark, dense. Forensics take pictures, so many pictures, the flashes light up the room. Kim cannot tear her eyes from the corpse. The hair is long, ashy blond.
"Kim, sweetie, what are you doing here? Come on, let's go!"
The laughter grows louder, convulsive. Kim's heart is beating too fast and she wants to leave, but she cannot move her gaze from the sight. The girl has burns on her skin. The kitchen smells like smoke. Armando Del Capo holds a lighter; he is laughing so hard, purple veins appear on his neck.
The dead girl opens her eyes.
Kim is screaming. She shoves Aunt Sasha to the side, she ignores the cops, she runs upstairs. She rubs her eyes with her open palms, chases away the tears. She stumbles on a step.
She is losing her mind. After the aggression, something in her head has snapped. Her deepest fears, her darkest shades have been unleashed.
Because of S.C.A.R. she has lost everything. Her family then, her freedom now. She is trapped in her own house because of them. She fears her own shadow because of them.
A pained cry erupts from within as she grabs a brush and throws it at the mirror. It shatters before her and she falls to her knees. She's exhausted.
The door opens and Aunt Sasha rushes to her side. She stays quiet and holds her. It's okay, honey. You'll be okay.
Kim rests her head on her chest and stares at the glass in bits. She is like that mirror: she might be broken, but sharper are the splinters, deeper are the wounds.
The hunt has just begun - and will end when she says so.
A/N: Chapter 1 - The Hunt here for you! Thoughts? Expectations for next chapter? Complains? Let me know what's on your mind :)
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