I do not own any WWE characters. All OC's are courtesy of yours truly.
I was laying upside down on edge of the bed tossing a tennis sized red ball up in the air while looking out the window. We were on the 25th floor watching the chaos surge through the streets of downtown Detroit. The Renaissance building was no more. So was the post office where my father worked as a janitor before the crisis. The Spirit of Detroit had been replaced with a statue of a dictator who seems to be losing control of the nation he conquered. All that was left of the headquarters of the dictator was trash and dead bodies. Americans from all over came for revenge and for revenge, they would soon have.
I continued tossing the ball until I dropped it. I was startled when someone was coming in through the door. I sat up to see who it was. It was my sister.
"Shit! You scared me," I said as I go up from the bed to retrieve the ball.
"I cannot believe you are still in the same spot! There is no time for stupidity Leslie!" my sister yelled at me. She had about six large bags in her hands which she sat near the closet. She began taking off her coat while she continue to berate me.
"I tell you to do one thing. One thing and you can't even do that. How hard is it to watch your niece and nephew? That could have been anyone walking through the door and here you are playing around. I just can't take such foolishness from you. The world is ending in three days and all you do is sit around and goof off." She began going through the bags she brought in.
My sister never misses an opportunity to tell me when I am fucking up. I guess that comes with job of being the oldest sibling of four kids. Though this time, she had more responsibility than checking me. She had two small children that she was raising on her own. I can understand why she would be pissed. If I were her I probably would be too knowing anything could happen at any moment.
I picked up the red ball and placed it on the table. I went over to my sister who was now sitting on the bed going through the bags. I sat next to her. I playfully started messing with her hair. She swatted my hand away but I continued.
'Stop that!" she barked at me. I giggled silently. I loved to annoy my sister and to watch her reaction. She was a serious person which made it more fun. I played with her hair one last time until she slapped my hand as hard as she could.
I quickly reached back my hand. "Ow! Ok". I stopped as she told me to. I stared at my sister while she pulled out a box and two black cases. She went to hand me one of them when she seen me staring.
"Why the hell are you staring at me like that?" she asked annoyed.
"Because you're so pwetty," I said in a baby voice. I smiled at her. If I knew one thing about my sister, she was a sucker for compliments when it came to her beauty. This time, she did not seem impressed. I took the case from her.
"Yeah whatever. Tell me something I don't know," she rolled her eyes at me.
I switched voices again. "Brenda, why are you so mean to me? I don't be doin nothing to nobody and you just be pickin on me. Why is that Brenda? Huh? Huh? Huh?" I nudged her. Brenda pushed my arm away.
"I'm mean because you're hard headed. And because I care," she looks at me. Her huge brown eyes shot me looks of both love and concern. Brenda and I were never the best of friends growing up but she always looked out for me no matter what. I couldn't love her any more for it.
"I'm not hard headed. I just like to march to the own beat of my drum. It's a difference," I spoke in my normal voice. Brenda scoffed and got up from the bed to go to the bathroom.
I looked down at the case Brenda gave me. I opened it to see a silver coated beretta. I picked up the gun and began loading it with bullets that were in the box.
Brenda stood in the door way as she watched me load up. "Listen Les," she sighed, "You know I love you but sometimes you act immature because you know that there is always someone to protect you. Well one day you won't have any of us to protect you, above all with everything that is happening. I think it's time you got it together and start taking care of yourself.
I put my head down. My sister was right. Being the youngest you get away with a lot. There is always someone who will handle things for you. At first, it was exciting. When I began to see my independence slip away from me as I got older, the excitement turned into frustration. Even in my 20s I still have not learned to be on my own. Why my sister trusted me with this gun was a different story.
Brenda came from the door way and sat next to me. She placed her arm around me and held me.
"You will find your way one baby sister. I guarantee it," she whispered to me.
I raised my head up. "But I'm tired of feeling like a screw up. I'm tired of disappointing mom, dad, you, everyone. I just want to be free," I sniffed. I wiped the tears with the back of my hand.
Brenda lifted my head and kissed my cheek. She held me again and started rocking me. It felt so good to be in her arms. Her warm body was soothing. I felt that nothing could hurt me as long as she was holding me.
"Don't worry sweetheart, you will be. You will be free," Brenda told me as she steadily rocked me.
While Brenda and I were still in the bedroom, we heard someone entering the front door. It was the sound two men or possibly more talking. We both looked at the door then at each other.
"Who could that be?" I asked. I was afraid one of Benchers might have found out we weren't Farrell Co. I grabbed the gun and held it tight. Brenda took the gun out of my hand. She signaled for me to stay quiet and to stay put. She slowly walked with the gun ready to fire.
Before she could reach the door, there was a knock. Brenda stopped walking. She turned to me and signaled to go to the bathroom. Both men had become silent.
Another moment passed before there was another knock. This time one of the men spoke. I was in the doorway of the bathroom. Brenda held the gun firmly in the hands. I watched as she steadily positioned slender and toned five foot eleven body.
"Hey Fox, Dahlia? Are either one of you in there?" it was our brother Brandon, also known as Kaval. We were given code names by the O; the organization of rebels that we belonged to. Dahlia was Brenda and I was Fox. These names were given to us randomly. We had no say in them. It was either we took the names we were given or be shit out of luck. We took the first option when we joined.
With a sigh of relief, I came from the door way as Brenda opened the door. She handed me the gun that I placed back inside the case.
There was Kaval standing on the opposite side. I looked in the background to see his friend, Montell, also known as Banks setting down two duffle bags.
"I was starting to worry for a second. Is everything ok?" Kaval asked. Brenda placed her hand on his shoulder. After I put the guns away, I joined my sibilings.
"We're fine baby brother," she assured him, "We were startled for a little bit. We thought the Benchers had came in."
"Well you don't have to worry about that. Trax and Mung's team took the night shift about a few minutes ago. The entire building is surrounded by O rebels" Kaval informed us Dahlia and I gave each other quizzical looks. Did he just say Trax and Mung were ahead of security?
Kaval caught on to our thoughts. "I know what you two are thinking and you are exactly right. Forge is running the risk of getting us all caught with all the outsiders he has planted here. That's why we need to get out of here as soon as possible."
Dahlia and I walked into the living room where Banks was. Banks looked in our direction, particularly at me, while cleaning what looked like a rifle.
Banks had a light brown complexion and corn rolls. He was well into his 30s and had a muscular physique. A physique I have seen and touched naked a few times in the shower, in my and his bedroom, in the kitchen and in his truck.
Montell Vontavious Porter was a former football player. He joined the O when his sister was killed by a Bencher and never looked back. Montell was assigned to our group when he was injured during a mission. He has been with us for four years. And each day those four years went by, I found myself falling for him.
Suddenly we all heard a loud sound. It was a gunshot. We all are ducked. A phone rang. It was Banks'. He answered. He raced to the window and looked down to see a dead body being carried to a garbage truck by two garbage men and a woman with blazing red hair with three men with guns in their hands talking. The woman was the one on the phone.
"Hello? . . . Yeah? . . . Oh that's what that was? Ok . . . I'll let them know . . . Be careful Ki. Don't give them a chance to find out anything . . . bye." Banks hung up. He looked in our direction and motioned us that everything was ok.
We all got up slowly. Dahlia went to the room across from Banks. It was where her children Charlie and Madeline, who were Jack and Jill to the rebels, were sleeping. As she went to the room someone opened the door. It was Casper, another member of our group who had been watching the children with me.
He swept his brown hair out his face and assured my sister that the children were ok. His white skin was now a bright red. He was shaken by the gunshots as well.
"Don't worry Dahlia, the kids were fine. They heard the gun shot and were a bit shook up. I calmed them down and got them back to sleep."
My sister sighed in relief, "Thank you Casper."
Kaval stood next to Banks and began looking out the window.
"So what did Kilo say?" he asked.
"She said that a Bencher has been suspicious for a while and started searching for answers. Eventually, he found what he was looking for. One of the rebels slipped and forgot to turn his phone on vibrate. The ringtone gave him away and a Bencher decided to handle him. If it weren't for Kilo and her men, we all would have been goners," Banks informed us.
"So I guess this means we need to start packing. It's been a great four years in this place," Casper said to the room of people whose facial expressions could not help but to agree.
"Yeah, pretty much," Kaval said. He walked away from the window and into his room. He closed the door.
The room grew silent. I watched everyone thinking to themselves. Concern and fear came across in their body language. Dahlia and Casper went into Jack and Jill's room. Banks and I were now the only two left.
Banks left the window. He placed the rifle down on the white leather couch and stood for a moment.
I went behind Banks and put my arms around him. I breathed in his scent as he held my hands.
"Where do we go from here?" I wondered aloud to him.
Banks signed heavily, "I don't know baby doll. This building was the only place keeping us safe. The other Farrell Co buildings are trashed and I don't think we could keep this up any longer. All because of a damn ringtone," he chuckled. "Whose bright idea was it to make those shit phones anyway?"
"That would be Hines, our technical genius," I answered him. "Too bad we don't have a leader who is tech savvy. Maybe he would have thought twice to allow an 18 year old to handle the organization's technology."
Banks and I laughed. He then took my arms from around me. He turned to face me. We stare at each other until he kisses me on the lips.
"I love you, Leslie. Don't you ever forget that."
"I won't," I kiss him. "I love you too Montell. Always."
As we he held each other, my heart began racing and so did my mind with thoughts of the end. There was no telling what could happen next. We could be here today and gone tomorrow. Even though we could, it did not stop us from fighting back. President Dasher's fall was near and so was our freedom. And there was nothing he could do about it.