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While Salma was halfway between freezing over with fear and kicking her limbs around in panic, the man added a confused shock to the mix by suddenly letting go.
"Wh-who are you?" she cried, into the darkness, frantic eyes searching around. "What do you wa --"
Her question turned into a panicked cry as a rough shove yanked her to face the other way. Salma tugged at her arm feebly, trying to free herself of the danger she could not see. Her attempts were useless, however. It wasn't long before she found herself gagged and blind-folded. Through her panic, Salma figured there were two persons. One of them was restraining her while the other secured her hands behind her back and tied her feet.
She stood like a statue, immobilized by the shock as they dragged her away from the door. Salty moisture seeped through her lips. She wished her brain would have reacted in more helpful way than locking her muscles and squeezing out panicked tears. Her pulse was loud in her ears and her body raked by trembles. One of the men let go of her arm, making Salma hang lopsided as the other still held onto her. She struggled to move her tied feet to support herself.
A clicking noise stopped her movements. She broke into cold sweats. Were they about to shoot her? Who were they? What did they want? Was she about to die --?
The man's rough fingers grabbed her under both her arms just as a cold gust of wind breezed past Salma. It was only when she was hauled over - what she imagined was - the sill did Salma realized they were kidnapping her through the window. Horrified, she started struggling, moving her face around hoping, her niqaab would give her the wriggle room to loosen her gag and call for help.
A brutal smack to the side of her face almost knocked her senseless. Even blindfolded, she felt her world flip-over. She was further blinded by pain as she heavily landed on her still-healing arm. Salma barely registered her muffled whimper of agony, or the grass and gravel beneath her tied hands. A rough hand yanked her up. Her captive grabbed her by the waist, holding her sideways like a slaughtered animal while the toes of her limp feet dug trails into the ground as they dragged by.
Salma struggled to keep her conscious. She was scared senseless and suffering from a brain-freeze. The men were strong, brutal and silent to the point that they might as well be mute. She was completely helpless and at their mercy. She could not afford to faint right then.
Without a warning, Salma's stomach lurched. She felt blades of grass, gravel and a searing pain on her cheek. The man had let go again and she had hit the ground face first. Groaning, she tried to push herself to the side. The air near her shoulder vibrated as something sturdy landed heavily next to it. Alarmed, Salma jerked away, only to have another weight pound behind her back. Whatever it was, it crushed her little finger in the process. Salma screamed in agony, balling herself as the thundering intensified. Her bruised finger throbbed in pain. Her tears continued and she could sense a lot of violent commotion above her. She desperately tried to make sense of it all until a crushing weight almost landed on her face but was pushed away. She was surprised to hear a cry of pain.
Not hers.
Then some thumps, followed by more grunts and groans. As a something knocked against her leg, then flailed over her and landed just behind her back, it finally dawned on Salma that there was fight in progress. The realization would have been a relief had it not meant that she was in the middle of a wrestling ring and they were about to stomp her to death.
Someone else seemed to have realized it too. Grabbing her around the arms, said person hastily picked her up and shoved her forward.
Screaming, Salma prepared herself for a bone-cracking landing. However, she was spared the pain and injury when another person caught her just in time.
"Quick! Take her away!" a very deep, gravely voice rumbled.
No sooner had she heard the words that her feet left the ground and her body was lifted up. The sudden swerve made her head go in circles. With the quick stomping of feet hitting the ground and the wind blowing past, Salma realized whoever it was, had started running away with her. Behind her back, her finger throbbed. Her arm still seared and her head kept spinning. She had no idea who was carrying her. Was it a friend or a foe? Her heart hammered in her chest, not knowing if she was she being taken to safety or more danger? But whoever it was, he kept pressing her closer, adding unnecessary, searing pressure to her injured arm that was making her eyes water.
The person gasped. Salma felt them turn for an instant as if to take a look behind them. She heard hurried footsteps in hot pursuit. There was a sharp change of direction and the absence of the cold. She guessed they had entered a building. The echoing footsteps further confirmed her suspicion that they were indeed running down a hallway. Her heart skipped a beat when the person suddenly skidded to take a sharp turn, then began pounding in sync with the stomping feet that seemed to have started climbing stairs.
A couple more nausea-inducing speedy turns and then the person came to a sudden halt. Everything suddenly became very still. The loud drumming of the pumping organ in her ribcage was the only noise that disturbed the quiet. The person holding her tensed. He pulled her closer. His labored breath fanned against her face. The grazing of her shoe against an even surface made Salma guess he was standing flat against a wall, hiding. In the distance, the sounds of approaching footsteps grew loud. She felt him draw her even tighter - probably trying to press flat against the wall. With her ear pinned against his heaving chest, she realized her heart wasn't the only one going berserk. He was just as scared. The realization didn't help as Salma's trembling intensified. Mute, blind-folded and bound by ropes, her fingers shook like a leaf behind her back.
The footsteps became even louder. The person chasing after them was very close. Both of them stilled, not even daring to breathe as the man seemed to have reached the landing. He had paused. Probably trying to ascertain which way they had gone. Salma desperately prayed for him to not find her unless. . .
. . . Unless the one holding her meant to harm her and the only chasing after them was the rescuer.
Icy cold fear crawled around her gut. Not knowing who was who made her insides jump to her throat. The seconds dragged by longer as she desperately bit back broken sobs and listened harder.
The footsteps drew closer. Salma swallowed. Her trembling became worse. She felt the man loosen his grip over her and take a step. Away from the wall, Salma presumed. Cautiously, she was lowered. For one crazy second, Salma thought he was going to play 'get help' and throw her at the chaser to buy himself a chance to escape.
However, whether he was about to throw her at the chaser, or settle her down so he could fight him, Salma never found out. His movements paused at the sound of more footsteps stomping up the stairs. The commotion that ensued made Salma realize members of the opposite parties had confronted each other at the landing. She flinched at the loud noises and anguished cries, wishing she at least had the freedom to cover her ears. The man holding her pressed her closer once more as he straightened up.
Salma felt her shoe drawing a line against the wall. He was edging out of the hiding spot. A terrible gurgling sound reached her ears, followed by the slapping of flesh hitting flesh. Salma imagined a man getting choked struggling against the other. Bile rose to her throat. She feared she was about to throw up through her gag and into her niqaab. Unexpectedly, the man holding her broke into a run. He seemed to shoot straight, judging by the wind whipping at her scarf, then skid around a sharp turn. The quick movement made Salma's stomach churn. She retched. However being empty, her convulsing gut had nothing to throw out.
Another flight of stairs and Salma heard someone rally them on.
"Keep going!" the masculine voice said. It was the same person that had told her abductor earlier to take her away. "Run faster boy! She's lighter than she was the last time I had carried her, and she was already underweight back then!"
A cold blast hit Salma. She was taken somewhere out into the open again.
The roof, maybe?
Salma started shivering. It seemed to be windier than in the courtyard. A loud bang startled her as the double doors were slammed shut. Then it was bolted and unless Salma was mistaken, she even heard the faint sound of a lock snapping into place.
"What the hell?" the man holding her whispered.
Salma tensed.
She knew that voice. That accent was more familiar to her than her own face.
While Salma was wrapping her head around it, he walked a few steps and gently settled her on a concrete surface. For what must have been a minute but felt like eternity, nothing happened. She was just left sitting in the dark, on a cold hard seat, defenseless, clueless, blind-folded, gagged and with her hands and feet tied together.
Salma felt her chest congest uncomfortably. What the hell was he doing? Was he really being a creep, looking at her while she sat there, blind, mute and immobile. She could never trust him when he cornered her in a position like this. What if he did something stupid? Panicking, Salma desperately tried to sense his presence around her. She had to know where he was and whether she had to use her elbow or her knee to repel him.
He heaved a heavy sigh.
So he was standing right in front of her. Salma focused all her strength behind her stiff knees. It would do nothing to get her away, but at least he'll be in pain.
"Please, don't panic," he requested.
Almost a plea.
The heck? Salma tried to say, struggling against her tears and nerves. Of course I am panicking. Untie me, you idiot.
There was a brief pause after her useless mumbling and then she felt him advance. Salma recoiled on instinct. She felt her shoe graze his leg. Her heart picked up pace. What was he doing?!
A gentle caress on her biceps froze her. Cold shivers raked her spine when she felt his arms encircle her. Salma back off some more. The mix of citrus and Jasmine overwhelmed her. She felt his chest graze over her shoulder and her legs turned to lead, refusing to budge. Salma was seconds from bursting into tears. She kept telling herself of the plans to knee him but her muscles seem to have jammed.
His fingers grazed her hands tied behind her back, fumbling. Then, he lifted her wrists feeling the rope all around trying to find knot. Salma felt a heavy, crushing load lifting off of her chest. Her lungs deflated, sighing as an immense sense of relief washed over her. He wasn't trying to hug her. He was untying her hands. Salma lowered her head and leaned in to give him more access to her hands.
Anticipating the freedom, Salma almost did not realize her forehead was practically resting against his chest. She felt drained and overwhelmed. She would have told him off for not speaking, or at least, trying to untie her from the side, but one, she was gagged, and two she literally had no energy for an argument.
The cutting pressure around her wrists eased as she felt the rope slide past. Salma almost cried with relief. She brought her hands to the front, lightly massaging her wrists. She could feel the markings of the ropes embedded on her skin. Her injured little-finger knocked against her palm accidentally. Salma winced in pain, quickly pulling her hand away.
A tug on her feet told her he was freeing her ankles from crushing into one another. Salma hastened to undo her blindfold to inspect her bruised finger. However, when the cloth came loose, it was her mouth that was freed. On instinct, she drew in a huge shaky breath of cold air, immensely pleased to be able to breathe freely again. Her feet were untied, just as Salma managed to remove her blindfold.
She looked around but her vision was dark and hazy. Shutting her eyes tight, Salma blinked a few time to clear her sight. The structures slowly drifted into shape in front of her. A half-moon was shining. Salma could just barely make the dark rooftop. Cold, she wrapped her arms around herself and hopped off the ledge. Just then, a brilliant flash of light blinded her.
Salma slapped her arm on her eyes, and backtracked. She tumbled over her numb feet and tripped. A hand grabbed her just in time to prevent her fall, but it had clamped over her bruised finger sending shock waves of burning pain up her arm.
"Ow no! Let it go! Let it go!" she cried in agony, pulling her hand free.
"Hey, it's just me!" Zayn quickly averted the flash of his phone. "Sorry for startling you, I thought you knew. . ."
Salma cradled her badly bruised finger, blinking back bitter tears. In the light of the flash, she could see it had swollen to twice its size and turned a nasty shade of purple. It was pulsing in her gentle grasp.
"Bee?"
Salma blinked to adjust to the light when Zayn's dark hair, golden brown eyes and sculpted features came into full focus to her right. He had his hands held up as if trying to calm an untamed beast.
Salma said nothing, making a discreet attempt to wipe her tears. Her knees felt weak. She wobbled back to the ledge and took a seat. A heavy silence stretched between them, punctuated only by an occasional sniff from Salma.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice quivering.
Zayn looked at her, then around, then back at her. He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. He seemed suspiciously calm for a man who's just been chased by – what sounded like - murderers.
"I don't mean on the rooftop," Salma snapped, annoyed that he acted like she was stupid. "I meant in the campus. Why are you here at this hour?"
"I can ask you the same."
"No, you can't --!"
Zayn raised a brow, looking somewhat amused. Turning the flash off, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Salma stiffened when he took a seat next to her. She edged away. What was he up to?
"And why's that?" Zayn asked, acting like he didn't notice her jumping away from him.
"Because I was in my department, minding my own business. What were you doing?"
"I was in your department, minding my own business." Zayn shrugged.
Salma narrowed her eyes at him. She realized she was talking herself into a corner with him.
"I'm none of your business."
Zayn smiled, shrugging again.
"Let's agree to disagree."
Salma felt her heart clench when he didn't even deny he was there for her. A gust of cold wind blew past her. It seeped into her bones, sending a shooting pain through her bruised finger. Salma was quite sure the tiny bones in her finger were broken. Zayn seemed to have noticed the pained look in her eyes.
"Fine." He sighed, misreading her anguish. "I was here to see you, and then I realized something was wrong."
Salma swallowed the lump in her throat, doing her best to ignore the sears in her chest and her finger alike.
"Why were you acting like a creep in the corridor?" she asked, her voice still shaky.
"I. . ." Zayn seemed to be speechless. "I thought you recognized me after I told you to stay quiet."
"You never said a word!"
"Yes, I did!" Zayn insisted. "I did this!" He put a finger on his lips.
"How would I know you did that?" Salma argued. "It was pitched black. All I knew was a man standing next to me, keeping a very creepy silence and then he reached to grab my hand!"
"You reach for my hand first, Bee," Zayn defended. "I thought you were scared so I --"
"I was just making sure I wasn't hallucinating," Salma cried. "You should have talked!"
"Look, I didn't realize --"
"And later too! You could have spoken to me. You could have told me it was you," Salma kept complaining. "Do you have any idea how terribly scared I was. I thought I was being kidnapped! I was going to pass out! I had no clue who was carrying me around. I was about to give us up earlier! Why didn't you speak?!"
Zayn said nothing as he stared at her, searching her eyes. As the silence descended upon her in uneasy waves, Salma felt her neck growing hot. She sniffed, realizing just then that she was tearing up again. She looked away, feeling ashamed. What was she thinking, running her mouth like that? He didn't owe her any explanation as to what he did. He always took her for a sport. Why was she even expecting him to care that she was terrified and that he should have made his identity clear to her?
"Had I known that it would have reassured you instead, I would have told you it was me," Zayn began. "You ran away earlier, jumping straight into the monsters' jaws. I thought you didn't feel safe with me."
"I don't feel safe with you!" Salma emphasized stubbornly.
Zayn shook his head in amusement, emitting a puff of mist as he laughed. Salma gave him a skeptic side-glance. He was staring at the sky.
"You've been avoiding me for weeks now. It's quite clear you didn't want to speak to me," he muttered, scratching his temple with his thumb. His hand was smeared with a rainbow of striking colors. Had he been painting?
"This was obviously different," Salma replied, watching his paint spotted hand till it disappeared back into the pocket of his jacket.
Zayn turned to her, a questioning look in his eyes. Salma averted her gaze. Even if he didn't say it, she knew what he wanted to say. How was this different? Why was it that when she needed him, she demanded to see and hear him, but when he wanted to see or speak to her, she refused?
Had he demanded answers, he would have been justified. Salma felt the constriction in her throat tightening. She bit her trembling lip, feeling humiliated. She had been frightened to her wits ends, and in her moment of panic, she had complained as if he owed her.
"Who were they?" Salma asked, trying to cut through the uncomfortable silence. "The men chasing us, did you know them?"
"I don't know, it could be the X-RAW," Zayn replied. "I was in the building when the lights went off and then I saw two figures walking ahead. They seemed completely unbothered by the darkness. I realized something was wrong when I heard commotion. So I hid. Then you came running out of the corridor."
Salma nodded. It made sense. Fortunately, or not, both of them had chosen to hide in the same spot.
"And who's the one helping you out?" she asked, recalling there was another man who kept shouting instructions at him.
"I think it was one of Alex's colleagues, judging by his combat skills, I'm not sure." Zayn frowned. "He must have been tailing after them. I saw him engaging in a fight with them just after I forced my way into the lecture hall. He disarmed the two men within seconds before taking them down. He told me to take you away when I tried to help him out."
A silence settled over the two. Zayn seemed relaxed as he went back to staring at the sky. Salma felt unsettled. So much had happened between them, it made her uneasy to be in his company. And yet, she already owed him three lives.
"Thank you," she muttered.
Zayn started nodding, but then stopped, as if he had thought of something else.
"Do me a favor in return," he asked earnestly. Salma heart seemed to stop, dreading his next words. "Talk to Snob and work things out."
Salma turned away from him, surprised, feeling the same old bitterness wash over her as he mentioned Sarah. He looked pretty serious.
"Why is it bothering you so much?" she asked, swallowing her anger.
"Because I know she's your only support system, and I want you to be happy."
Salma felt a tremble trickle down her back, leaving goose-bumps in its wake. She had to get out of this solitude with him. He wasn't even pretending anymore. She could literally feel the words aligning inside his head and it scared the living daylights out of her. Yelling and shouting was one thing, she felt like she would jump off the roof if he professed to her in all seriousness.
Not really planning it, Salma hopped off the ledge and started walking away with jittery steps.
"Bee --"
"Where are we?" she cut him, trying her best to steer the conversation to a neutral topic.
Zayn chewed on the inside of his lip.
"You don't recognize this place?"
Salma shrugged, walking around an air vent to the other side of the roof.
"I know it's a roof," she said, "I was just wondering which one?"
She was casually looking around her when her eyes landed on the wall of the stairway, adjacent to the door.
"Don't tell me you've never been up here," she heard Zayn laugh while her muscles started locking themselves in rigid blocks. "It's the rooftop to your own department."
Salma swallowed the uneasy feeling. Painted all over the wall in luminescent colors was what looked like a girl morphed into a bee. Salma's breathing became uneven. She read the cursive words and quickly turned around, hoping to play ignorant but she knew that act was ruined the moment she saw Zayn standing behind her.
Their gaze met for a painful second before his strayed back to the painting. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, due to nervousness or embarrassment, Salma did not care to know. Her eyes strayed back on his paint-spattered hands stuffed into his pockets.
An uneasy silence stretched between them again. The abstract shone brightly in the dark, glaring at her with a burning reminder of what she had wanted to avoid. She closed her eyes, wishing she would have stayed put on the ledge, and never found the splash of bright colors on the wall.
"Yeah . . . I made this," Zayn muttered quietly. Perhaps attempting to explain his obsessive behavior and somehow making it even more awkward and creepy. "It was ages ago . . ."
Was it? Salma couldn't help but notice the smudged paint on his wrist as he shrugged.
She said nothing, glancing at the painting again. The floor underneath it was strewn with spray cans. Her heart sank lower reading the cursive writing blended within the colors again.
"I wish upon the brightest star for her to Bee mine!"
"I didn't want you to find it out like this . . ."
But you planned on letting me find it out? The question rang in Salma's head like a buzzer. She felt dizzy as something occurred to her. Was all of this just an act?
Was it really just a coincidence that she had ran into him in the dark? And while there was supposedly an agent tailing the kidnappers, he ended up being the one to rescue her? Was it really just chance that he ran inside the building and was chased up to the roof, instead of the parking lot to his car in which he could easily have gotten away?
Did he just attempt to kidnap her so as to paint himself as her diehard hero?
Author's Note:
Uh oh, what in the world just happened? 😬
Anyways, there might be another update this month, but no promises. I am really struggling with my blotted timetable right now.
What's certain is that I will be posting the alternate scenes on Patreon together with the early-access chapters. So those of you who can, please pledge a small monthly amount at https://www.patreon.com/BrekhnaJohar I really, really need to make this work 🙏🏻
Having said that, to SR7Mina, my patron and all my Losties who's been reading, voting and commenting. I appreciate you ❤️. You're the best 😘. Every time my anxiety shoots over my uncertain future, I am reminded that I still got Losties, it'll work out in shaa'Allah 😅. So, thank you 🤗
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Lots of Love
J.