-1- 

I lay recovering from my latest attack and I’m actually happy I’ve been able to stay conscious for more than a few minutes. 

The happiness disappears when I began to feel reality. My high is leaving and I'm starving.  

And then there is the cold, my teeth won't stop chattering against each other, my legs spasm and my heart rushes so fast I'm sure it will give out.

Whatever drugs the psycho red head gave me really did a number on me.

Ironically, I’m still in my tuxedo, which is unbearably hot now despite the cold. It takes all my strength to work at the jacket before ripping of shirt buttons. I consider eating the buttons, but think better of it.

I hear footsteps outside and a few voices. I tried to make some kind of sound, something to let them now I will cooperate but my mouth wouldn’t form the words.

I was sure they meant to take Allison and not me, but that doesn’t explain why I am still alive. Are they going to ransom me ? Do they really think I’m worth that much ? 

I hope I’m worth that much.

Maybe they thought I knew something about the company ---which  is a common misconception. Everyone thinks because I am so much my dad is Chief Engineering Officer I know all about science and was a prodigy like him but, truthfully I know shit about Tempus.

I like visual technology and even then the only school I could get into was  Metro College of Art and Design, and that was only after Mr. Kyto wrote me a very nice recommendation letter that I’m sure was accompanied with a very nice donation.

Maybe I could find a way out. Make a run for it. Although, that seemed pretty useless—I  had no idea where I was.  All I knew was that I was literally in a whole new territory.

I was in the Western Republic. 

***

Last century, during the reparations of the Nuclear Serial Wars there was a lot of debate about how to regulate nuclear tech. Some said it was only bad when misused, others wanted nothing to do with it. To prevent another nuclear war the country split into Eastern United State and Western American Republic. 

My home, the Eastern United State, with the help of nuclear technology, built itself on strong ideas of technological stewardship, innovation and prosperity. Everything in the EUS was a testament to beauty and technology.

The Western Republic heavily regulated any tech. They tried to build a country on human centered-ness and a collection of fringe cultish religion. Their economy collapsed almost instantly. After decades of falling infrastructure it was mostly know for the chrome cartels and the EUS-owned factories that stimulated the economy.

Despite the differences, the relationship between the East and West had been peaceful. Until this summer.

I was moving into my freshman dorm at Metro College and had just barely kissed Mom goodbye when a strange hush came over the  moving-day  noise. Everyone’s SINdicate chimed with an urgent message from the State department.  A malicious attack had been placed on the Eastern United State borders by a rebellious group of Western Republican insurgents.

21 EUS Guardsman involved in the conflict were killed and the Republican government officials were ignoring any peace talks. The entire Eastern United State had to go on lockdown for 24 hours until they were sure there weren’t more terrorist out there. My parents had to spend the night in my dorm room.

The next day the attackers had been caught, the State department said they were sending enforcement to control future Republican threat and things went back to normal; Marco, my roommate, came and I started D-averaging in all my classes. Now Dad used the story of the night we spent in my dorm room as an icebreaker at parties.

Aside from a few new safety precautions, I never really thought much about that night. 

Until now, of course.

I hear footsteps walking close to where I am confined and my heart starts to race. I can’t keep being a punching bag or I will die.

The door creaks open gently and  a large, muscular bald man with a distinctive small silver cross pierced into his forehead slowly peers in. There’s an angry scowl on his face. Even through my hazy eyes I can see he is all muscle and strength.

This guy could probably eat me if he wanted to, but I know he isn't the person who has been beating the shit out of me every night. His footsteps are too hesitant and heavy.

The big guy easily grabs me. ties my arms behind my back and drags  me out of the cell.

He pushes me across the floor and out into a large, high ceiling  industrial  basement.  Everything is  cement and exposed steel beams. I see two exits;one deadbolted door with a small window that appears to leads to the outside and a long staircase that leads upstairs.

The basement itself has 4 other doors, counting the one I had been held captive behind. The floor is discolored in areas, like it had been covered in bleach. Something about it feels dirty. 

I hear a thundering down the steps and see the woman with the shaved head. She looks casual, wearing a red tank top and  jean shorts. I notice a bandage from where she smacked against the corner of fountain The redhead woman makes a sudden stop at the last step. She stares at me and then the big guy. 

She snatches something  out of his hand. "What the hell?"

It's an apple.

“What are you doing ?,” she hisses.

The man simply looks over at me.

“I don’t know,” she says sternly,” I don’t know who he is. I need to know that first. He could just be a waiter for all I know.”

I blinked. Had the man even said anything ? Neither of them appeared to have SINdicates to talk over.

“Please . . .” I manage. ”Pl . . .Plea-  . . ”

Damn it, I was so weak I couldn’t even beg for mercy.

She walks over to me and kneels down, putting a  gun to my face.

“You think you’re brave ?,” she sneers. “Because you protected little Ms. Kyto ?”

Her tone is more contemptuous than respectful towards Alison’s name. I can barely meet the woman's eyes.

In an attempt to sit up, I lose my balance and my arm lands in her lap. She pauses before recoiling.

“I’m going to figure out who you are. And for your sake, I hope you are someone important. I hope you’re worth money.”

She let the apple fall near me and charges up the stairs, the man following her.

My mind is spinning. They don't know my dad is Chief Engineering Officer. I don't know if this is a good or bad thing.

I debate on eating the apple or using it to make an escape. I use what little energy I have to grab for it, but it is still out of my reach.

***

-2-

They leave me sitting in the basement for the rest of the day. At this point, I have just about every area of it memorized. It’s not as empty as I first thought. In one corner there are a lot of books, which fascinates me because I haven’t seen many paper books. They have bright colorful covers and are stacked neatly by color.  

One of the doors has hundreds of tiny streaks of color that look like paint on the l knob. Another one of the doors is flung open and I can see an empty windowless room beyond it. The long scratches and deep dents inside the door unsettle me. I wonder if there were other people like me behind the doors at one point. If this was some kind of hostage holding spot.

The door that leads to outside begins to rattle and I stare as it’s knob shakes and jiggles until the lock releases and I am assaulted by the brightest light I had ever seen in my life.

The click of heels and youthful high pitched laughter fills the room as two figures enter.  They are shadowed outlines of a girl and guy who appear to be holding on to each other for support.

 Looks like I have more company. 

Once the door to the outside is closed I can make out their features better. They are smiling broadly at each other. Which unsettles me again.

The girl has dark brown hair that falls to her shoulders. The pieces crowning her face are tinged a deep purple. She’s wearing a skirt that barely covers her bronzed  thighs and low cut white tank top hangs loosely off her chest. On her feet are glittery high heeled sandals. The shine of the gemstones and glitter that adorned the sides of her purple lined eyes put Mom’s dress to shame.

The guy is young, despite his wispy bright white hair. His eyes too are heavily lined in glitter liner too—he’s wearing an unbuttoned white shirt and heeled boots underneath tight blue jpants . As he got closer to me I notice one of his eyes is blue and the other is purple.  

Those two are the most color I had seen in a while.

They shared a chaste kiss as the girl kicks off her shoes and loses  about 4 inches of her height. With a quick turn of her head the purple girl registers me and walks over slowly. The boy, holding her hand, follows cautiously behind.

It didn’t take much to deduce he was a joyboy and she was a joygirl.

“Help,” I manage, proud to actually get the words out.

“H-holy shit, . . . this is the collarboy, huh ?,” the girl slurred.

Crouching down to my level, but keeping her distance, she points to the top of my dress shirt, “Look his collar, is actually white . . .”

The guy comes even closer and falls in front of me. He pulls me up and straddles my lap as he starts touching my face.

“I’ve never seen one up close before . . .  you’re fucking beautiful,” he commented running a hand through my hair and pulling us close until our foreheads touch.

I pull back as much as I can, and he runs his thumb over my eyelashes, holding my eyelids open he stares straight into my eyes.

 “Those fucking Nikon lenses, brother ? ,” he asked, and then turns to the girl. "His eyes are so god damn blue. None of this cheap shit is so god damn blue.”

There is a hunger in his voice. I start to fear he was going to rip the surgically inserted lenses right out of my eyes.

“Please--,” I begin.” Help me, she has a gun--”

 “Oh, honey,” the girl giggles, putting her arms around the boys neck and pulling him away from me. ”We can’t help you.”

“Do you see the size of her guns ?,” the boy adds taking a seat next to me, like we were waiting at a bus stop together.

We’re they being held captive as well ?

“Oh, I’m Minnie Dory, by the way,” the girl said. "This is my brother--

“I’m Jean Dory,” he interrupted extending his hand.

I had been shot at, kidnapped, beaten up and these two wanted to shake hands. 

When he saw I wasn't responding Jean dropped his hand and picked up the abandoned apple. He started slicing it with a knife.

 A knife I didn't see him carry in.

He offers me a slice and I reach out for it, but he slips it into my mouth. His warm fingers brush my teeth as I slowly eat. Maybe it was from the starvation, but the apple was sweeter than anything I'd ever tasted and the firm flesh is filled with a fragrant juice that runs down my chin. It taste like the best thing in the world.

“So, like . . .,” Minnie began and exchanged a look with Jean, “Who are you?”

I pause. They seem non-threatening but I don't let my guard down.

“Look, um, look--my name is Alan," I say quickly, "I’m sure someone, my Dad--”

“Your—your-d—d  Dad,” Minnie laughed. She convulsed into more shrieks of laughter and falls sideways smacking her head against the concrete floor.

Jean reacts quickly and  drags her towards him until her head rests in his lap. He smooths his hands through her hair and she stares up at him with glassy eyes.

“There she goes. She’s burning . . . Alan,” he says in a sing-song voice as he cuts back into the apple. “Time for bed, Minnow ?”

He put another slice of the apple into my mouth, his thumb pausing on my chin.

“Fucking beautiful. Really,” he smiled as he stood up, carrying Minnie in his arms towards the door with the crystal knob and paint.

 They disappear off into the room and I'm alone again.

What the hell ?

I was surprised by his lack of personal space but, I wasn’t surprised by Jean’s reaction to me. Especially if he was from the Republic ---but judging by his own looks he may not be. And Minnow may not be either.

Physical modification for embryos was commonplace in the Eastern State as long as it followed code. When I was invitro my parents had chosen the physical feature that went into me from a mix of their genetic mapping. It made it easy to spot when someone was from the Republic—they didn’t do gene mapping. It’s not that they were ugly, they just looked different more often than not. It was nothing to be ashamed of, just nothing to talk about. 

Jean and Minnow looked like they had had some mapping done.

I was still famished after the two apple slices and I wasn’t surprised when I passed out again.

***

-3-

Several hours (maybe days ?) later I was forced awake by the room violently shaking and a sound like  a million thunderstorms. Minnie walked speedily out of the room Jean had carried her into earlier and ran up the stairs. 

When she comes back down the steps a few seconds later the thundering from outside dies down. I figured she was going to walk right past me but she stops  a few feet away. She takes a tissue out of the breast party of her gray silk camisole and, crouching down, handed it to me.

She looks different than before, all of her make up and glitter is gone and her hair is pulled back. The whites of her eyes are so white they look bleached, her brown pupils  are so wide and expressive I wonder if they are special contacts. I notice a dark mole--what my mom always called a beauty mark-- on her neck and what looks like a fading hickey.

 Jean comes out of the bedroom and stands over Minnie who is still extending the handkerchief to me.

A stray tear runs down my face

“I would shut down on the tears, glitterboy,” Minnie advises, setting her slightly chapped lips in a solid line.

“I’m not crying,” I explained wiping at my face

“It don’t rain in here, brother,” Jean smiled. His voice was teasing.

He kneels down to my level.

“You should be happy the trigger happy bitch hasn’t killed you, yet. No reason to cry.”

“I’m not crying. It’s just a side effect  from a surgery,” I explain

“ What  do you mean ?,” Minnie asked sitting next to me crossing her legs, “Tell me—tell us.”

There they go again. Talking to me like I wasn’t tied up against my will in some strange place.

 I want to yell at them and demand answers , but, I’m also afraid if I upset them I’ll end up dead. So, I settle for passive aggressiveness.

“Please leave me alone,” I say through gritted teeth.

"Please ?" Jean scoffs

Minnie shoots Jean a look. ”If you tell us maybe we can help ?”

She smiled a hopeful smile and looks at me in a way that makes me think she genuinely wants to be friends. So, I relent.

I guess I’m a sucker for a pretty face.

 “There was an error and I had to have a  new pair of  lenses installed in my eyes after I was born,” I explain. “The Nikon ones--”

“I knew it. So fucking beautiful,” Jean added

“Surgery like that  isn’t supposed to be done after you are born. They did it anyway and my mom noticed afterwards my eyes would leak tears for no reason. Some kind of error. It was too risky to fix.”

“What was wrong with your first pair of lens?,” Jean asked.

It was the last question I expected anyone to ask.

“Don’t know.” I said. ”One was cloudier than the other.  I’m used to it. It’s the only time tears can come out my eyes.”

“That’s really sad your parents fucked you up like that,” Minnow said quietly.

 “Wait so—what happens when you like really cry ?” Jean asked

“You don’t want to know,” I said. I wasn’t trying to  be mysterious, it was true, it was not pretty.

“I know a fixer for a ripperdoc who owes me a favor,” Minnie commented scooting close to me. She smells  sweet, like brown sugar. ”Moonlight’s a  no-shit black clinic . . . you’d still  have to fucking spill ice though.”

I knew my face twisted in confusion.

“A fixer is a contact, “Jean explained,” Ripperdocs work in black clinics doing illegal bioware and ‘borging,. . . but they are legit doctors and fix most shit. Even shit the Eastern docs fuck up on. Of course they charge big,”

I had no idea where to operate from here. I was getting some conversation and the Dorys seemed nice. I mean they wanted to help me. Maybe  they weren't in league with the redhead.

“Of course that is all contingent on us letting you live,” he added.

Never mind.

“Look, Jean, um Minnie I have no idea what is going on,” I said, “I don’t know what you want with me or Allison Kyto, but could you  explain to that woman that I’ll give whatever they want. I just want to leave.”

They turned in sync to stare at each other/ They didn’t move their heads or make any facial gestures, but I could tell they were having some kind of silent conversation.

“Look, If Minnow and I let you leave here you’d be streetmeat, brother,” Jean said.” I’ll admit Sara is techno scum--"

“Sara ?,” I asked, “The red head ?”

“ I think I’ve said too much,” Jean replied, sounding genuinely sorry. Minnie grinned at his mistake.

“What does she want?” I asked

“ Hell if we know. Can’t figure why she does half the fucking things she does,” Minnie said

The earth shook again and the cement crumbled, Minnow reached out for Jean and they held on to each other until it passed.

“What is that ?” I asked

“Men at work,” Minnie mused shrugging her shoulders.

“Just a raid. Just where  I need to be,” Jean smiled shrugging off his thin black sweater, and leaving it in front of me, running the back of his hand under his eye. “Maybe you could use that, brother.”

He peered out the window for a second before whipping the door open and stepping outside.

Minnow watched him leave and then turned back to me. She picked up Jean's sweater and moved it between her fingers, never taking her eyes off me. There didn’t seem to be any emotion reading on them, it was just a blank stare.

I still could not place what was happening or if Minnie was a friend or enemy. I decide to get to the point

“ Can I have a percentage? What is the percentage chance you guys are going to kill me ?,” I finally asked

“Jean and I ?  We  aren’t exactly planning it,” she laughed, “And I think if Sara was going to do it she would have.  . .  she’s a fugitive and usually blows anyone who sees her face to hell.”

“It doesn’t look good for me then ?” 

“Maybe 20 percent ? Of course she could just have some special death planned for you—I’m not sure. . .  usually a bullet to the head, that does it,”

Minnie drew a circle with her finger in the center of her head and then tucked her feet underneath her.

Her voice sounded distant and strange. Like she was talking to someone who wasn’t in the room.

Just then the door opened and after being assaulted by the bright light again Jean steps through, his arm around a man in a Western Republican Police Force uniform. The Western Republic didn't have a military, just a police force that was known to be corrupt. 

“That was fast ! Hello, sergeant,” Minnie said skipping over to Jean and pulling at the police officer's jacket,” Wow, you looters sure have gotten sloppy. This uniform doesn’t even look real.”

“Shut up, bitch,” the man said to her, but she instantly laughed it off.

The looter raised his arm to slap her, but Jean caught it and moved the man’s arm around his own waist.

“Now, now play nice,” Jean sighed.

Minnie just smirked at the man, who was staring daggers into her.

 “ How about a drink, hmm ? This way, sweet brother,” Jean said taking the man’s collar and leading him up the stairs. As Jean led the man upstairs he turned to glare at Minnie who just crossed her arms.

She stood at the staircase watching them go up, turned her gaze back to me and then  walked up the staircase. I figured all hopes of negotiating my release were over for today.

And where did the staircase lead, anyway ?

A few minutes passed and Minnie came back down the staircase quietly. She took back her spot next to me and set a plastic container and aluminum waterbottle in front of me.

“It’s soup,” she said opening it and giving me a spoon. “It’s got vegetables and all….It’s always so fucking hot here, so none ever eats my soup. Oh,  and this is  some water—I mean you look like you need it and all.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I say and I had never meant it more in my life. I decided to leave the questions I had for her alone at the moment. If I was going to be held here I couldn’t exactly ruin this possible alliance.

Maneuvering around my chained hands I pick up the spoon.

 I devour the soup, it is mostly vegetables, but  I taste some kind of meat I can’t identify. It taste a little like dirt but I don't care. The  ice water is amazing though—fresh and clean.

After a  half hour of Minnie watching me devour the soup  a rash of yelling and curses from upstairs breaks the silence.  

I flinch at a succession of  gun shots and a screamed ‘shit’ from Jean. Suddenly, there is a repetitive thunk as a body rolls down the steps contorting in the most unnatural positions on its way down. I can tell it's the Republican Officer or looter or whatever the hell he is besides clearly dead.

A pool of blood and guts begins to form at the steps and I am freaking out on the inside because I have never seen a dead body, because I have no idea where the guts are coming from and because I am truly starting to believe I am staring at my own fate.

Minnie simply gazes at the body and turns away with a pinched look of annoyance, like someone had just left a light on in the bathroom or something.

The red head, Sara, immediately storms down the stairs with  a gun in her hand. Her steps are sporadic and almost panicked. Through the railing I see she is being followed by  someone as she slowly maneuvers around the blood.

"DON'T COME DOWN!, STAY UP THERE GOD DAMMIT !," she screams at the figure behind her.

Her voice is filled with so much ferocity and anger it cuts through the room. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ?!  WHAT THE HELL ? GOD DAMMIT!,” she screams.

“Me ? Me ?," the figure responds. "He stole from me. He thought he was being fucki-” 

"I DON'T CARE," Sara cuts the voice off.

 The other voice sounds male and young, like he is on the edge of tears. I can't see his expression from where I am, he is merely a shadowed profile.

Sara and the boy look at the man prostate on the floor and then at each other.

“You are so stupid, you are SO stupid !,” she continues  as she walks up the steps and shoves the boy violently. “You should know better. You are cleaning this up. God damn you !  You don’t know anything, god, you are so stupid--”

She is interrupted by the sound of Jean sauntering down the stairs, he placed his hands momentarily on the boy's shoulder before elegantly tip toeing around the guts and leaping over the body, breathing  a “For fucks sake” under his breath.

Sara instantly changes the target of her wrath and walks over to Minnie and grabs her by the arm, jerking her off the ground. Sara puts the gun to  Minnie’s head and Minnie instantly puts her hands in the air.

“Why—“ Minnie begins.

“Stop !,” I said, not even knowing why.

“Shut up,” Sara spat at me. She turned her eyes to Jean.

“We are a Republic, you know ? We still have laws.  And more importantly I have rules against you assholes bringing those damn greedy looters in my house. They are all liars. You bring in one looter, you bring them all. They can’t be trusted.”

Sara pushed Minnie into a wall before taking the gun from her head.

Jean looks unaffected and just crosses his arms. 

 “Fine. Fine. But, really, just had to kill him, didn’t you ?,” Jean chastises her.

 “I didn’t kill him.” Sara fumes gesturing to the boy who seems to be frozen in place at the steps.

I can hear the boy breathing hard, like he is either really angry or trying not to cry. I can’t tell because most of him is cast in shadows and covered by the stairwell.  He turns and his face catches light, for a moment and I see his features are soft.

 And with a vicious clarity I know he was the one who  attacked me when I was in the room alone.

“He stole my band. He pretended to shake my hand and then took it,” The boy says quietly. 

The boy’s voice clearly cracks as he speaks. Now I'm really pissed.  I let myself get beat up by a kid whose balls hadn't even dropped

Sara kneels next to the body  and picks a rusted silver bracelet out of the dead man’s hands and throws it hard at the boy.

“Well, fuck the both of you,” Jean sighed, snapping his fingers at them.” We could have just turned him in for impersonation and gotten a reward or something.”

Sara just scoffed at him and turned to me.

“Think of all the cred we can get for him,” she smiled.

“No one pays for a  collarboy...no matter how goodlooking,” Jean sighed.

“I know. I was thinking sell him for parts,” she continued.

-4-

***

The next few days, I am left in the basement alone with little to no stimulation. I am passed out when they clean up the body and I never see who did it. I take comfort in the occasional company of Minnie and Jean.  Mostly Minnie.  And it is hard to use the word comfort when I spend all my time in the enclosed space tied up but, she at least makes sure I had a little something to eat. I soon learn that they are never going to give me any answers as to why Sara had kidnapped me, where I was or what her plans were.

In my head I had it worked out the they all must live together out of necessity and maybe  they rented the basement room from Sara and that’s why they put up with her. Of course when you looked like Minnie, I didn't really understand why she couldn't live wherever she wanted, if she was a joygirl, she  probably made more than enough money.

Then again I imagined she spent all her money on drugs. It only took me a few days to notice the capsules she was always popping. Her eyes would dilate, she would twirl to phantom music, and  she burned—which freaked me out the most. It was the moment when she'd reach an ultimate high in her high. She’d just stop what she was doing and pass out with her eyes wide open staring off into space. I felt bad for Minnie—and Jean too, they seemed like too nice of people to be caught in such a vicious cycle.

My dad smoked the occasional cigarette and even imported marijuana if he was entertaining some of his younger friends, but I never knew anyone who did  hardcore drugs like Minnie. Especially not someone so young, and all I can think about is that she will die and I don’t think her brother could handle that.

They were…close. I don't know if it was a Republic thing or if they were just different, but those two were close.  Which didn't explain why he let her hurt herself. I never saw him take a thing.

I learned the shaking and noises outside were police raids looking for fugitives. They routinely blew up random buildings until the fugitive came out. We never learned about that in school, but it is kind of a good example as to why this country is screwed up.

I never asked them about the Republic terrorist coming to the Eastern border. And it never came up.

One afternoon, Minnie was sitting next to me putting a thin brightly colored wafer candy on her tongue. It looked harmless, but must have been laced with something because she shivered in delight as it melted on her tongue.

“So, are in you in school?” I ask her.

I figure the more I knew about her or Jean or Sara the better.

“No . . . I guess not,” she smiled, “Not really my scene ?”

I wasn’t sure if she was telling me or asking me. Either way I was jealous " school not being her scene" had even been an option for her.

“How old are you ?,” I ask

She looks at me and smirks and then I realize how rude the question may have sounded. Being here has made me stupid.

“Sixteen,” she responds

I wonder if the surprise showed on my face. Something about the way she carried herself made her seem older than me. Maybe it was the makeup.

“You seem older,” I admit.

“I get that a lot,” she smiles.

I had never known anyone who smiled so much when they talked. Only her smile wasn’t all sweet, there was something wicked about it.

“How did you end up here ?”

“I chose it.”

It made no sense, but I nodded.

 “How did you end up where you are ?,” she retorted.

“Um, I was kidnapped.” I said half honest, half smart ass.

She laughed and I betrayed myself and smiled.

“Damn, your teeth are so perfect they could be a god damn credit reference,” she laughs

I don’t smile back.

“I’m in pain,” I admit, “Do you think I can have a pill for that ?”

She looked quizzically in her palm, which was filled with her pills and pointed to a white capsule.

“Well, I think this--”

A loud siren blared from outside and cuts her off. We both jump a little as the  basement is filled with a pulsing sound that makes my ears burn.

“SHUT UP !,” she yelled at the siren. “FUCK !”

The siren continues and she screams at it.

“DAMN IT !,” she yelled and then turned to me “They are so loud today !,”

I hear a loud thud as Sara pounds down the stairs.

Minnie parts her shiny pink lips and lets out a banshee of a scream over the siren.

“Minnow!,” Sara shouts, her eyes wild. ”Where is Jean ?”

Minnie is busy screaming and Sara runs to their bedroom door. She yells something and Jean bolts out, pulling on a jacket and carrying a pair of shoes

“Minnow,” he barks. ”Put these on. Let’s go.”

Jean’s usual sanguine disposition has changed to a more serious one. Sara  opens a closet door and throws out a pile large black duffel bags and runs upstairs with them.

“Come on !,” Sara shouts roughly from halfway up the steps. Panic in her voice. Terror in her movements. Alarm on her face.

Jean tried to pick his sister up to carry her quickly upstairs, but she resists.

“Alan !” She cries, hoarsely.

“Fuck him, we have to go!” Jean yells

“SAINT ! SAINT !,” Minnie screams like a maniac. Jean’s hands grip  her waist hard as he forces her up the stairs.

“Move your motherfucking ass !,”  he grunts at her. Her knees buckle and he gets a good grasp to force her upstairs and out of sight. She screams the whole way.

I had no idea why they were all freaking out or why Minnie screamed  my name, but  I had no  time to think as I see the man with the cross in his forehead grab me. He covers my eyes and I felt an injection in to my spine.

 I of course, did my usual thing and slowly lost consciousness.

-------

A/N

Woop ! I posted another one!

So, this chapter stayed largely the same. 5/27/13

I actually re-wrote this 3 4 times, the first few times it was largely the same. Not so much anymore.