A bird flies across my view,
struggles against the wind, and whips away as a ball of feathers. Fear too.
Though I'm not sure about the last part. The wind whips harder. The storm has
been here for three days now. Weather channel didn't predict that. As the wind
buffets the windows, I sip on some water. For some reason the water was out.
But I'm certain that it will come back up soon. We were in the city, after all,
and didn't that mean plenty of people were complaining? Nevertheless, I had the
foresight to fill up my bathtub with water. I'm certain that
I lie back down on my sofa, away
from the window, and cover myself up with a blanket. Next to me, my girlfriend
snores away. I smile and try not to move so as to disturb her. She'd been
worried about our location near an evacuation zone, though I'm sure it's fine.
Truth is, I haven't heard any news for a day now. No electricity put an end to
my continual refreshes to see the extent of the storm. It apparently was one of
the biggest storms ever, let alone this far north.
The wind gets to be too much and I
wake up expecting the windows to shatter, the building to collapse. But each
time I hold my breath, the wind subsides for a few seconds and the building and
windows seem to grow stronger with each second. I know this can't be true, yet
I choose to believe it because it fills me with hope. I remind myself that the
building is a solid brick and cement structure, and that it will be fine in
this wind. I fall back asleep.
I wake up to screams. Sitting up, I
check my watch and look at the light outside. It's an overcast day, and my
messy studio apartment. The soft breathing of my woman stutters, and she jerks
up, her eyes wide.
"What is that?" she asks.
I smile. "I don't know,"
I say, thinking that perhaps it was just another rambunctious neighbor. I reach
over to her and stroke her light brown hair. I kiss her, morning breath on her
mouth, and a smile that calms me down.
"I think the storm is
over," I say and point with my head to the unshaking windows and hushed
air.
"I thought I heard something,
or was it a dream?" she asks, still not entirely convinced.
We hug, and I kiss her again, her
smell, a sweet-sour aroma that I'm used to, makes me shiver and calm. I want to
calm her down too. "I'm sure it was a dream."
"You certain?" she says,
scanning my face to make sure this isn't one of my weak moments where I'll say
anything to calm her down.
"I am," I reply, holding
her stare.
The scream sounds off again, this
time louder.
She jerks her head, then slowly
turns to me. "It's real," she says in an accusing voice.
"I'll see," I say and
stand up.
On the balcony I strain to see
anyone in the streets. All is quiet, perhaps too quiet. But I remind myself
that there's been a storm and people are just rubbing their eyes and preparing
themselves for the sight of destruction. I stare and see no one. Hearing
screams in this part of town is no uncommon occurrence.
And another scream punctuates the
air. I feel my skin shiver. My bones rattle. It was a cry unlike one I've ever
heard before. I cock my head and try to see which direction it came from.
Yet another scream. I lean over the
shaking balcony railing and strain my eyes to see where it came from. The
scream had the taint of someone who has no other choice but to scream with all
your might. It demanded attention because something bad was going on.
"Help!" a yell, possibly
by the same voice as the scream, goes out.
The sound of a crunching blow hits
my ears. It's a sickening sound that I've only heard a few times before. My
eyes glide over and I see two men and two women. Except the women are both on
the ground. One is sprawled out on the sidewalk, while the other is on her
knees, begging. She's big, and shudders with each cry of hers. The sprawled out
woman doesn't appear to move.
Something in her stance reaches out
and touches my heart. This is wrong. Why is she begging like that? It's broad
daylight, and even if there's been a hurricane out, that shouldn't allow this
to happen.
The two men are tall and skinny,
and one pulls out a gun and points it at the woman. My muscles tense up. Surely
this isn't happening? I wonder what to do. I have no weapons in the house, and
from this distance I can't throw something at the men, if only to harass them.
"Hey!" I yell out, my
voice loud and low. My worries for the women have turned to anger. This is
something I can use. "Yeah you, idiot. Leave her alone," I yell
again.
The men turn their heads about and
look for where the voice is coming from. I wave my hands. Perhaps if they know
they're being looked at, they will run off scared.
The man with the gun sees me and
raises his gun. It's a small pistol so I'm sure he can't hit me from there, but
even then I duck and hear the gun fire. How can someone be so bold as to fire
at someone in a large building like this?
"Honey? Is everything all
right?" my girlfriend asks.
"Marie? Stay inside," I
say. No need for her to see this.
I peek over the edge and see that
the men are back to harassing the woman. One kicks the one on the ground. The
pistol is back to being pointed at the woman on her knees.
"Hey fuckhead," I yell,
my voice course from adrenaline filling up my blood. "You missed. And if
you don't leave, I'm going to call the cops. I've got you on video," I
say, hoping that the chance of being recorded will scare them off.
This time he turns and I have only
a second to duck as he fires in my direction.
A few round impact around the
balcony. I peek over to see the man shoot the woman on her knees and walk
towards the building entrance. The woman on her knees falls forward and her
legs kick out and she's still. Red stretches out to the sidewalk.
I walk back inside and stare at
Marie. I have just watched someone get shot. Yet even though watching that
woman get executed lingers in my brain, another thought takes over. Are the men
going to come after me? Surely there's no way they can get by the security
guard and locked door?
I hear a distant gunshot.
"What is it honey?" Marie
asks. She steps forward and takes my arm in hers.
"They just shot her," I
say.
"Who?" she asks, her
voice getting higher.
"Some woman," I say, my
throat turning dry.
She stares at me as she tries to
figure out if I'm joking. "By whom?"
"Some men," I say and
pull out my cell phone. I dial a number. The phone disconnects. I try again.
Then again. I text my mother to see if even that will work, and the text gets
bounced. "Your phone working?" I ask.
"I think so," she says
and reaches over to the table to grab her smart phone encased in black rubber.
She dials. Nothing. She presses buttons on the screen and after several
attempts looks up at me with widened eyes. "Nothing. I can't get through
to anyone. I can't even text."
"It's okay," I say. I
inhale and stare at the table. Something feels wrong. The air, the silence in
the city, even the building seems wrong. What am I to do? As the feeling in my
chest, one of energy being sucked from each cell, spreads to my head I feel
foolish for yelling at the men. What could words have possibly done to men with
guns? Were they coming up to get back at me?
Marie sits, thinking, and starts to
shake her head. "What's happened?"
I look at my alarm clock and
realize that it's out. I flip on a switch. Nothing.
"Lights are out," I say.
She nods her head.
I'm thinking now of the men coming
up here. Could they figure out which apartment I was in? I need to see what's
going on downstairs.
In the kitchen I grab a small knife
and hold it in my hand. No weapons outside of the culinary tools we have.
"Stay here, I'll be back," I say.
"Where are you going?"
she asks.
"Downstairs."
She looks at me like I'm a wild
man. "Why?"
"To see if there's a security
guard down there."
That possibility seems to shock
her. I need to be more careful about what I say; I don't want to scare her too
much. "It's okay, I'm just checking," I say. When the look on her
face doesn't seem to calm down I walk over and kiss her. I stroke her hair as I
smell her skin. Sweet. My blood expands and I relax while at the same time
feeling invincible. Even without a shower for the past three days, she still smells
in a way that fills me up with power.
"I'll be back. Don't unlock
the door for anyone else but me, okay?" I say.
"Okay."
I break away from her. At the door
I lean my head to the edge and listen for any sounds. As I open the door she
runs over and hugs me.
"I'm scared. I think something
is wrong. Why would the cell phones be out?"
"I know, it's weird," I
say and strain my neck to make sure that the hallway is all clear. Last thing I
need is for those men to sneak up on me like this. We wouldn't be spared.
"Be careful," she says.
Then looks at me with a determined look. "I'm coming with you."
"No," I say, my voice
low, angry. She can't come with me because she'll be a liability. "Stay
here." I try to think of something that won't hit on her pride, because
otherwise she'll definitely follow me down there. "You have to make sure
that no one comes here. Check the balcony and see what else is happening on the
streets, all right?"
Her face hardens, before softening
up. "Okay. But you be careful, okay?"
"I will," I say and step
out into the hallway.
"Jeff?" she says.
I don't turn, the hallway has two
lights on, with another two flickering. There's the sound of a long moan that takes
me a second to recognize as that of wind tunneling through gaps in the
doorways. "Yes love?"
"Don't use the elevator,"
she says.
I turn and look at her.
"Why?" I ask, wondering what she's imagining.
"Please?" she asks.
"All right." We embrace
and kiss.
I shut the door behind me and hear
the click of the lock. I'm alone. I open the door to the stairwell. There's no
sound except the wind. I look at the numbers on the elevators. None seem to be
moving, and all are either on the top floor or the lobby. Slowly I make my way
down the stairwell. I make sure that there's no echo from each step I take. And
around every corner I pause and try to hear for people coming up. It's enclosed
with a wall between the stairs, so every floor is a blind corner.
On the third floor I hear something
coming from the hallway. I crouch down and hold my breath. A door slams I push
the door to the floor open and see nothing. All the lights are working on this
floor. Just as I'm about to close the door I see a streak of red leading into
an apartment. It's blood. I'm certain. I close the door as quickly and quietly
as I can. My heart is jumping into my throat and my thoughts start to move
tumble towards the fear of being trapped here, without any police.
Everything in my body wants to go
back upstairs and stay with my woman. At least I'll have a door between me and
the bad guys. But I don't know what's going on. It could very well be that there's
a security guard down there and my mind's playing tricks with me.
I make my way down. Step by step.
All I can hear are: my heart pounding, the wind whining, and my shoes pressing
on the cement stairs. When I get to the lobby door I crouch. The door has a
small half window from waist height all the way to the top. Some men start
talking. Laughing. It sounds jovial. Perhaps there are men there who've
survived the storm like the rest of us and are happy to have made it.
Peering from the bottom of the
small opening I try to make out the scene. I see a few men laughing, though now
it doesn't seem to be all that jovial. I push against the door so that I can
see the security desk. There's no one there. But that doesn't mean anything. It's
a boring job so they usually get up and walk around.
I move my face away from the glass
and decide I need a better vantage point of the lobby. The door is locked, so
I'm safe behind it. Another round of laughter goes up and this time it's
definitely not jovial.
Peering from higher up I see the
men all around in a circle. On the floor, between them is the security guard.
I've seen him before. He's a big man with a kind heart, and right now he's on
the ground squirming. One of the men has what seems to be a spear pointed at
the security guard's crouch. The security shuffles to get away and another man
kicks him in the end. I see blood on the security man's face.
I want to look away, this scene is
making me sick, but I stare. What do these men want? I duck when one of the men
looks my way. Holding my breath I wonder if I've been seen. And if so, do they
have the key to this door? If the security guard is at their mercy, surely they
do. I wait what seems to be an eternity. My body doesn't want to move. Instead,
it shrinks. Have these men taken over the building?
Another thought arises. If they
have, then surely they can go up in the elevator and catch me from the second
floor. I look up the stairs. Nothing. I hear the ting bell of the elevator and
I peek again. The door opens and I see a woman and a man step off. Both short,
timid people. They're not expecting this. They've come out for a stroll. And I
see the woman's eyes grow wide as she sees the security guard on the floor. She
stops and it takes another second for her man to look at her, then follow her
eyes to the security guard and the men around him.
He grabs her and turns to the
elevator.
One of the men, a quick man, moves
and is already at the elevator door. The man and his woman freeze. But it's the
freeze of fear and not knowing. If he knew he would push that man down, or use
all his energy to do so.
I feel a sickness bubbling from my stomach,
pushing my heart into convulsing. "Get away," I whisper. I should
distract the men somehow, but what would that do? I should burst in with my
knife. But this isn't a movie. There's no way that I can take on at least eight
men with one knife. And I know one of them has a gun.
The men are moving in. One touches
the woman on her ass. The man, obviously her boyfriend, pushes the offender's
hand away. But there are several men behind him, and her turns to see them too
late. He's on the ground and now the offender has his hands all over the woman.
A scream goes out and for a second I make eye contact with the woman. I duck.
I stay put. The feeling that I
could be next forces me to glance at the stairs. There's nothing more I want to
do than to run back up. I peek one more time. The man in squirming on the
ground and the woman's clothes are being torn off.
One of the men turns his head up.
Has he seen me? I duck, move to the stairs and run. As fast as I can I run. Two
stairs at a time and three. I slip once, bang my knee on the cement. That
doesn't stop me, I get right back up and run as fast as I can. My legs start to
cramp up, slow down, my lungs taste like blood, and I don't stop. Don't look
back, they're going to come for you next, I tell myself. By the time I get to
my floor I'm sweating, my skin burning, my lungs are blood and I don't look in
the hallway.
Opening the door to my hallway I
slam against the wall and look up to see a man staring at me. I freeze, my guts
twisting and dropping through the floor. Did they catch me? I pause for a
second. My door is halfway between me and him. I can make it. I finger my key
in my pocket. He seems to be hesitating. I look behind me. There's no one. Is
he alone? There's no way that I'll ever end up like that couple.
My legs are weak, but I flex them
and I run to my door. The man seems to flinch, and I half expect him to pull
out a weapon, but when I get to my door I see that he hasn't moved. That in
fact he's looking at me like I'm crazy, makes me wonder if he has anything to
do with the men downstairs. Is he a neighbor? Such is life that I don't know
any of them.
I slip my key in and open the door.
I'm looking at him. He's raising a
hand.
"Are you from this
building?" I ask.
He nods. "Are you all
right?"
"Do you know anyone else from
this building?" I ask.
"Honey?" Marie asks in a
frightened voice.
"Hold on baby," I say.
The man takes a step towards me. "There are a few men in the lobby. Stay
away from there."
"Why?" he asks. He seems
thoroughly confused.
"They just killed two people
who came through," I say. I don't want to think about what happened to
that couple. What happened to that woman could happen to Marie. I shudder at
the thought.
"What?" the man asks.
Now I'm certain he's a good guy.
But how can I be hundred percent. "Listen, they're probably coming up
soon. It's better that you stay inside. Do you have cell phone reception?"
"No, I was going to go
downstairs for that."
"Don't," I say.
"I have a car, third floor. I
can get out. Us out," he says, adding the last part like he's trying hard
to make friends with me.
"Don't go down there. Or use
the stairs. But be warned. If they're in the lobby waiting for you, I'm
guessing they have the parking lot staked out."
He seems to be getting genuinely
scared. "What do we do?"
"Honey?" Marie asks
again. She's near the door now.
"Hold on," I say, and
pause. I open it wider. "Come out here," I say.
She steps into view with a chef's
knife in hand, poised to strike. I smile.
"What?" she says, with a
determination that makes me want to kiss her.
"Do you know him?" I ask
and point at the man. She steps into the hallway and looks at the man.
"Brad?" she asks.
"Hi Marie," the man says,
a wave of relief comes over his face.
I hear a distant ding of the
elevator. People are still using it. That makes me angry, because it means that
those men in the lobby are still ambushing victims. Another ding sounds off.
Brad walks up to us and we shake hands. Another
ding sounds off, this time louder. I think for a second, it means something,
the dings getting louder. But what?
