Hunter's car is parked along the murky alleyway of some unfamiliar street. The cab driver asked me thrice if I am sure about being left alone in such a place. He seems to be a nice old man. For a woman thinly dressed to be seen walking down a strange road is quite a scene, a scary one at that.
However, I am not scared. I know Hunter is just around somewhere.
Huge stone buildings, antiquated and abandoned, stand everywhere, so it is hard to guess which building Hunter could have gone into. Only two lamp posts are functioning. The rest are all dead with missing parts. It appears that this area has long been deserted. Why would Hunter be going here? Is he going to meet Will here? Why in this kind of place?
The sound of my heels clicking against the asphalt road echoes around the cold, thick air. I lost track of time, but I think it is nearing midnight already as the moon is getting bigger and brighter as the night deepens. I take them off my feet and pick them up in fear for my life. I cannot risk being caught by Will's men if he's indeed meeting Hunter tonight.
"Nah, I think I need a break!" I hear a voice coming out of a wooden door just a few steps away from me. I quickly hide behind a buttress, hoping the dark would cover me.
"How much do you think will we get after this?"
Two men come out of the door. One man whose hair is tied up in a knot lights a cigarette. "Will get's forty percent."
"And Stone?" his bony friend asks.
"Don't think Stone wants his share," answers the other guy. "Will offers him a tenth of his cut."
"Fuck Stone! That's a whole lot of cash, Greg!" The thin guy spits something out of his mouth.
So Hunter is indeed seeing Will when he promised me he won't.
"The bastard is already rich. He won't need anything from us," Greg says.
"Well, I don't think Stone's forgotten where he came from." A sleazy smile emerges from the man's face, revealing yellow teeth sticking out of his mouth like those of a piranha's. "I heard Will talking with Mario, Vlad, Jose, and Ed a week ago. He mentioned Stone's name. I heard from him that Stone is offering a hundred grand to each of them if they offer their services."
"A hundred grand?" Greg exclaims, his face all puffed up. He coughs gruffly until the coarseness of his voice vanishes. "Fuck them! Those bastards could be traveling the world now. No wonder they suddenly disappeared."
Mario, Vlad, Jose, and Ed...
The names ring a bell. I think I've heard those names somewhere.
"What could Stone want from them?" Greg asks as he puts the cigar back into his mouth. A string of smoke spirals to the air.
"Don't know. Will didn't mention it," the other man answers. "It's really suspicious how Hunter Stone suddenly came back from the dead. I thought he doesn't want to be connected with us."
"Old blood, old ties, buddy!" Greg gives his friend a strong blow to the back.
A loud sound rips through the silence. "Fuck, man! You don't have to hit me!"
"Why do you have to fart in front of me?" Greg bellows angrily.
"I bloody need to go to the toilet now!" Stick-man rushes to building across the street with his hands on his bum.
Greg laughs like he would roll over the street.
I wait for Greg to follow his friend to the next building before I start moving my legs. The lights in the building where the two men came from intensifies as a loud noise is heard.
Something made of glass is smashed, and the sound causes my heart to skip a beat.
What if Will is hurting Hunter now? What if the glass that broke was smashed against his head? What if by the time I reach him, he's already unconscious with blood all over his face?
I feel the hair all over my body rise at the thought. He's just one man against a battalion of Will's bloodcurdling-looking chaps.
There's no one guarding the first floor. Lucky me, walking through the well-lighted hallway is a walk in the park. Though the building looked old and dilapidated outside, it's quite the opposite inside. Despite the presence of cobwebs and dust on the window panes, the walls are freshly painted with a mint green shade, and the light bulbs are new, except for the ceiling which I think deserves a make-over. I walk up a set of stairs.
When I get to the landing, I see a dim corridor. Every time I step my foot on the floor, it squeaks, and the wooden beams quiver as if they are going to collapse.
Along the corridor are wooden crates piled together in blocks perhaps five feet tall. There are so many of them that they make the hallway a little narrower. They are bolted shut with huge nails. What's inside must be precious to Will and his men. Fine crystal powder is everywhere on the floor, and they shimmer as light reflects on them. I dip my finger into it, and with my thumb, I rub the fine powder against the skin of my fingers. They look like powder, but in truth, they are minute crystals, just a tad smaller than that of a course table salt. They don't smell anything.
What could this thing be?
"Yeah, mate!" A chubby man with a face so red and a runny nose appears from the curve. His legs cross each other as he walks. "I'll get you three cases of rum!" He continues laughing.
I quickly hide between two rows of crates until I lost sight of the intoxicated man.
I kneel down to conceal myself further.
There are tiny movements in the shadows, and all I can do to keep myself calm is cover my mouth with my own hands.
Clearly, alcohol has reached the man's brain, and I don't think any form of stimuli could stop him from laughing. He would beat Santa Claus in a laughing contest in his state now.
The man pauses just three feet away from me, his feet wide apart. I try to coil my legs closer to the wall, so he doesn't see me. I could hear my heart thumping like the wailing of a ship before it goes to its maiden voyage. The suspense is keeping my nerves up, and my legs begin to shake. If the man doesn't leave any minute now, I am afraid I'll collapse helplessly on the floor, and that will not be a good thing for me.
"Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top..." the man starts to sing. He swings his hips from side to side as he moves on to the next part of the song. "The cradle will rock..." He sways his arms together as though mimicking a mother putting her baby to sleep. With the little light in the corridor, I could see the man having fun singing the lullaby.
"And down will come baby, cradle and all..."
My throat dries as he turns to my direction, and his drooping gaze fixes on me.
He's seen me! He's seen the intruder dressed in an immaculate white dress, stooping down like a punished convict!
For a moment, I thought my heart would stop beating.
We are gazing into each other's eyes, and no one dares to move a muscle. How could I when all my limbs have stiffened, and my heartbeat is reaching on my ears, loud and clear?
I literally drop my jaw when the man turns his back on me, puckers his lips together, and moves his head like a toddler as he recommences the singing of his lullaby.
"Rock-a-bye baby in the tree top..." He walks leisurely away from me, still swinging his hips.
A huge ball of air breaks free from my chest when I find myself alone again.
Certainly, the man has lost himself! Still, I couldn't be happier to see the man leaving.
I want to leave, run back down the stairs and out of the building, but Mr. Lullaby would notice me. However, I couldn't continue walking along the corridor when I know I would probably end up in a room with a bunch of drunken hooligans.
My eyes scan for an escape way—a door or a window. I don't mind jumping off a window if I could save myself from danger, but there's none as far as I can see. The dimness of the room hinders me from seeing anything except for the glimmer of lights coming from the curved end.
Then I hear talking voices, rough and low, approaching me once more. It's not Mr. Lullaby this time, I am positive. They don't sound like they're drunken or out of their mind. Realization of my impending doom sinks into the base of my brain.
What should I do now?
My breathing quickens.
My mind is screaming.
Run, Angel!
Don't look back!
Let them see you.
Just run... and don't look back no matter what.
Scream your lungs out until you run out of voice. Someone might hear you. Yes, Hunter! Hunter might just hear you.
But I am not stupid enough to let my location be known. As I push myself harder and harder against the wooden wall, a piece of plank falls off, revealing a secret passageway. The opening is not big, but I think I could fit in there. Without second thoughts, I pull off the timber plank cautiously and crawl inside. I bite my lower lip every time the floor squeaks under my movement. I don't know where this strange opening will lead me.
The voices are getting louder, so I quicken my movements. My arms and legs move in synchronization, crawling discreetly down the tube that connects with the opening. There is no light, but I know my knees, arms, and elbows are all swathed with dust and dirt. I hope no mice or insects show up, or I would blow the roof off this building.
From where I am now, I could see the light coming from the other end. When I finally get there, my heart beat starts to normalize. There's a timber plank similar to the first one a while ago, only that these horizontal slats allow a tiny bit of air and light to pass through.
Before I could smash the plank open, scuttling sounds of footsteps hold me back. There are people in the next room. Peering through a tiny gap, I could see a pile of paper boxes preventing me from seeing the entire room. There are loads of them piled together like a pyramid. I could not see a trace of human presence, and yet I hear talking voices. Damn these boxes!
So I stick my ear to the plank and try to listen in.
"It's been a long time, little Fawn!"
"Don't call me that!" another voice says in complete disapproval.
"What's the matter with that? You liked to be called—"
"Shut your fucking mouth, Will!"
Will?
I want to see for myself, but I still couldn't get a clearer view of him and his companion except for their shadow projected on the nearby wall.
Will laughs.
"Relax, young man! Here, have some scotch. It's 1940!"
"Chic! But I don't drink anymore." I detect some sadness in his tone.
"Wow! What water were you drinking in that part of the world for you to reject 1940 Scotch?" Will mocks.
"Unlike you Will, that scotch will be the death of me."
"You are so melodramatic just like Stag!"
After I blink my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room, I see a tall man in a bright yellow t-shirt, a perfect contrast to his ebony skin. His head has tribal shavings all over it that would make anyone think he's someone to watch out for. He could be Will, but then again, he could be the other man.
He approaches a crate near the wall and takes something out from it. With one hand, he tosses a small plastic pack containing the white crystal salts I have found on the corridor's floor.
"Check this out!" He pitches the plastic pack to the other man. I can only see his sturdy arms stretch to catch the bag.
"You have tons of this here?"
"Yep!"
"And the shipment? How did you get through the customs?" the faceless man asks.
"Well... that's why I got Stag to work his magic. He helped me smuggle these into the US soil." The ebony-skinned man beams. "I'm having him transport the crates to four different states in the West by tomorrow. You know the man, it's only him who can pull this off. He's got the resources. I think I could have asked your help too if only if you were here, but you were out of town."
"And he just obeyed you just like that?"
The plastic pack is thrown back to Mr. Shaved Head, and he returns it safely back to the crate. If this man is indeed the infamous Will, I only have the other person to worry about.
"I threatened him. Stag's a little bit difficult to manipulate nowadays after you two swore to break ties with the group a few years back." He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his back against the wall. The edge of his mouth curves into a smirk. If I were to guess, I think Will and his companion do not have a good past.
"Intimidating him would have been more difficult if it were not because of his newfound weakness." Will continues, Seriously, I cannot believe my eyes! Stag has a weakness. I swear, he even threatened to kill me!"
"You'd do the same too, Will, won't you?"
"What? Kill someone over raging hormones?" Will's guttural laugh fills the room. "What matters now is I finally got him by the neck, and I can easily control the man with my fingers. Just a little blackmailing here and there and Stag will be back in the group. Don't you want to join, Fawn? For good old time's sake? We can do stuff we used to do before. We had a lot of fun, remember?"
"Where is he, anyway?" The man is evading Will's question. I hear him drag his chair, cornering Will toward the wall. Will straightens up and puffs his chest out.
The fun on his face washed out, but still, the mysterious man remains faceless. I just know he is face-to-face with Will.
"He was here just before you arrived. I sent him to talk with Mr. Frey. The man's going to give us free entry to Pennsylvania and Ohio."
"Will he be back soon?"
Who is this Stag?
And where is Hunter? He should be here with Will.
"The man's busy, Fawn. Let him finish the job so that he can come back early. He's got responsibilities now. For the meantime, let's drink up! You're not serious about the scotch, are you?"
"I told you, I don't drink anymore!"
"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"
"Home!"