The Pulse Series (Book 1): Pulse (2 page)

As we grow up we learn that the monsters of our imagination aren't real, and we begin to feel that the darkness isn't all it was cracked up to be. That's a temporary feeling though, as we learn all too quickly that we were wrong. Monsters are real. They just don't look like things out of a horror movie. They look like Ted down the street, or Sally from the supermarket.

This is the reason we build cities. We create massive epicenters of light that drown out the darkness. We huddle together under the light, afraid of those things out in the dark that we can't see, unaware that most of the time it's the people we are huddled up with that we should be fearing.

Yes, bad things come out in the night. They also come out in the day.

"Yo, Alex."

I turned to look to the voice. The streetlights had yet to warm up, so I had to squint through the twilight to make out the face of the man who had called my name. I didn't know his name, but I had seen him around before and knew what he did for a living. It was less he himself that gave it away, and more the scantily clad girls standing behind him. I shivered in cold just looking at them, and it was only the beginning of autumn. My attention swung back to the man.

He grinned. "When am I gonna get you working for me, girl? I know many a man who'd pay a pretty penny for someone as small as you."

I pulled my hood up and kept walking, the working girls laughing behind me.

I stopped outside the apartment building I lived in with my mom and looked up at the third floor. Light shone from the windows which meant she was home.

Most nights my mom was out doing whatever it was she did during the dark hours. I tried not to think about that too much. She would leave in the evening and come home close to sunrise. She sometimes had money, food, or household goods with her. I wasn't sure where she got them.

I swallowed and pushed open the door, making my way into the stairwell. Her being home meant I would have to deal with her before getting into my bedroom. Her and anyone else she had up there. I stepped over the legs of the man that was sleeping sitting up in front of the stairs. Beside him was a dirty needle and rubber tube.

I made my way up the stairs to the third floor, and walked down the hall to the door of the apartment that was my home. I say home, but house was more appropriate. Before entering I pressed my head against the door and held my breath. I couldn't make out anything other than muffled voices. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and pushed open the door.

"Oh look who's decided to grace us with her presence." My mom stared up at me from her place on the floor. Her long red hair was pooled out underneath her as she lay on her back at the feet of a man who was sitting on the couch. I had inherited my mother's hair color, but that was where the similarities ended. Her pale skin was blemish free, where as mine was awash with freckles especially across my nose. Her eyes were blue, so I had to assume I'd gotten the green of mine from my father, whoever he may have been. Where she was tall for a woman I was about a foot shorter than anyone else my age. Also unlike my mother I had taken to hacking off my hair unevenly to keep it above my shoulders.

My mom stretched out like a cat and turned to look up at the man above her. "Look, Alex is home."

I sighed. "Hey, Mom." I glanced at the man above her and felt uncomfortable as I recognized him. "Hi, Chuck."

Chuck was a tall, thin man with a pencil thin mustache and soul patch beard underneath his mouth. His dark shoulder length hair was slicked back and gelled into place. He reclined back on the couch and ran his eyes up my body. He licked his lips. I shuddered and started toward my bedroom.

"I'm going to be reading all night. Bye."

"Of course you are. Don't let the book bugs bite, or something."

I glanced back as I got to my door and saw Chuck leaning forward to pass my mom a glass pipe and lighter. As I watched as his hand slid up her skirt. I felt my eyes burn but blinked to force it away. I didn't have any tears for my mother any more.

I opened my backpack and took out the key, unlocking the deadbolt on my door and slipping into my room. I locked it again behind me and flicked on the small lamp that sat near my barred window. A large desk sat on one side of my room, and a mattress lay on floor. There was a walk in wardrobe built into the room. I emptied my pockets onto the desk. The passport might sell for something, so I hid it and the cash in a small hidden gap that was under the wall behind my desk.

I made my way over to the wardrobe and stripped off my jeans and shirt. As I pulled the cloth over my head a sharp pain ran down my side. I looked down at the area where I had landed and winced. It was a dark purple. I gave it a few gentle pokes and almost passed out from the pain. Something was moving in there.

I spent the next fifteen minutes awkwardly trying to wrap a bandage around my chest. There wasn't much you could do for broken ribs except keep pressure on them. Once I was done I pulled out a light tank top and carefully slipped it on over my underwear. It was cool though the night, but I hate the way blankets tangle around my body when I'm sleeping so I try to wear as little as possible. I pulled out the book I had been reading and closed the wardrobe door. I lay down on my mattress and allowed myself to relax for the first time since I'd left the house that day.

Once I had settled down into be I noticed a small lump of pressure in my chest that was on the verge of being painful. I took a few deep breaths and coughed a few times, but the pressure was still there when I was done. Probably something to do with the fall. I decided to ignore it and hope it went away. It wasn't like I had the money to go to the hospital anyway, especially for something as vague as chest pains.

As I sat reading my eyes began to get heavy, and soon I was dozing on my bed. A scream followed by a loud crack tore me from sleep. I jumped up and ran to the door, opening it and rushing out into the living room. I saw my mom on her back in the center of the room, the broken pieces of the table lying around her. She was giggling like a child.

My mom turned to look at Chuck who was laughing from his position on the couch. "You were right. I guess it wouldn't hold my weight!"

"For god's sake, mom, do you know how long it took me to get that thing in here?" I had spent hours pulling that thing down from where I had found it on the thirteenth floor. I don't know why I bothered trying to do anything that would make this place nicer. I should have learned by now that it was pointless.

I felt eyes, and looked up to Chuck who was staring at me over his shoulder with his mouth open. I looked down at myself, remembering what I was wearing, and looked back up at Chuck with my cheeks filling red. He was shaking as he stared at me, and for a moment I wondered what was wrong with him, but then I realized what he was doing. I gagged and ran back to my room, slamming the door shut behind me and trying to ignore my mother's laughter. I locked the deadbolt and ran to my bed, throwing myself under the sheet as the tears came to my eyes.

I looked up to the clock on the wall and saw that it was midnight. I turned and let the tears flow. It wouldn't be the first time I cried myself to sleep.

THREE

I threw a rock at the poster on the wall. The large block letters read 'Report suspicious activity'. Underneath the letters was an image of the ruins of the Washington monument. I shook my and looked away from the image and back down at the boy sitting next to me.

Trey held out a brown paper bag. "Happy birthday."

I frowned at him, then down at the box. After a few seconds my brain kicked in and my eyebrows went up. "It's the eighth?"

Trey grinned. "Yep."

I let out a breath. "Wow. I almost didn't notice." I shook my head and took the gift. "Thanks."

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

Trey had been my friend ever since the first day of high school, and was the only person I still saw on a regular basis since I dropped out. He was taller than me, but that wasn't hard, and was well built for a teenager. I guess I was too as we had a similar workout schedule of climbing and running, but the biological fact of his testosterone made his frame much thicker than mine. He kept his brown hair clipped close to his head.

Trey nodded toward the bag. "Open it up."

I opened the bag and pulled out a medium sized butterfly knife. My eyes lit up at the sight of the thing, and a small squeal might have escaped from my throat. I grinned up at Trey and punched him on the shoulder. "Where did you get this?"

"Friend of a friend. Don't worry about it."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't spend money on this, did you?"

He snorted. "Please."

I nodded my thanks and flipped the knife around a few times, careful not to catch my fingers in the blade, before sliding it into the back pocket of my jeans.

We were standing out the back of an old abandoned warehouse, our usual meeting place. It was messy, and you could still hear the sounds of the city around us, but if you blocked your ears and stared up at the sky it kind of felt like you were out in the country somewhere. Not that I knew what the country was like first hand, mind you, but I had seen TV shows and got the gist of it.

"You got anything new?"

Trey's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Actually, yeah." I reached across my body to grab the passport I had in my pocket, and winced as a spike of pain ran down my side.

Trey frowned. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing. Just took a bit of a fall."

"Show me."

I sighed, but relented. Trey was a pain in the ass about this kind of thing, and wouldn't let up until I gave in. I wasn't in the mood for taunting him today, so lifted the side of my shirt to show the bandages underneath.

Trey sucked in a breath though his teeth. "Shit, Alex. That's bad. You should go to a hospital. Looks like your ribs are broken."

I shook my head. "No point. Hospital can't do much for ribs."

"They could give you something for the pain."

I barked out laughter. "Yeah. That's what I can afford to spend money on. Pain meds."

He grimaced, but nodded conceding the point. I lowered my shirt and pulled the passport from my pocket, handing it to him.

He flicked the small book open and raised his eyes. "Australian. Nice. This will get you a couple hundred probably."

"Can you pass it off to your uncle?"

Trey nodded and slid the passport into his backpack. I felt a small pang as the prize disappeared from view, but shook it off. I could trust Trey. He was the only person I'd ever met who hadn't tried to take something from me.

"So, what do you want to do for your sixteenth birthday?"

I grinned up at him. "Oh you know me. The usual."

***

I set my now heavier backpack down on the ground and sat watching the kids play in the park. Trey sat down next to me, his once empty pockets on his cargo pants full of stolen property.

Being a solo pickpocket was a fine way to make a living, but having a partner made everything so simpler. Instead of waiting for and capturing the perfect opportunity you had the ability to create your own. We had been out for most of the day, and the sun was starting to head toward the horizon. We would only be able to sit here for half an hour before heading back to our corner of the city. It wasn't wise to be caught out after dark.

As I lay there watching I became aware of the pain in my chest again. It had gotten worse through the night, but wasn't anything that caused me anything more than mild discomfort. The thought of pain in my chest caused me to remember something, and I glanced at Trey out of the corner of my eye. "How's your mom doing?"

I saw him wince then quickly school his face into a nonchalant expression. "She's fine."

I frowned, but didn't press the issue. His mom had gotten a cough a few months beforehand that had steadily gotten worse since. The last time I'd seen her, two weeks ago, there had been flecks of blood in the tissues she help up to her mouth. What I'd said about spending money on medicine was just as relevant for Trey. The medical system in this country had never been good, but ever since Washington fell, health insurance premiums had skyrocketed leaving even most middle-class people without the safety net.

I looked over to the kids playing on the playground nearby to force myself to relax. Getting angry at the system was useless. People are greedy. They always have been and they always will be. Any way to manipulate a situation into profits can and will be exploited by those in a position to do so. Letting it get me down wouldn't help anything.

After a few more minutes Trey stood and offered me a hand. I took it and rose, gathering up my things. After Trey made sure nothing had fallen out of his pockets the two of us started walking.

In front of us there was a small mobile activity spot set up on the sidewalk. Two military police officers sat behind a table. Behind them was another of the posters I had seen earlier. Report suspicious activity.

As we walked we passed one of the officers glared at us. I would have been offended, but it was hard to get to uppity about police mistrusting you when you had actually just committed crime. I set my eyes back on the path but the second officer stood up and held a hand out.

"You guys got a few minutes?"

I winced, but Trey turned to smile at him. "Certainly officer, but only a few. My sister and I need to get home before dark."

The officer who was still sitting snorted. "Sister? You expect me to believe the two of you are related? You've got about two feet of difference in height between you, and she's got the reddest hair I've ever seen."

"Now now, Jim, if they say they're brother and sister I'm going to believe them until it's proven otherwise." The man turned back to us with a smile. "My name's John. You kids seen anything unusual today?"

Trey shook his head. "No, sir. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"You sure about that? No people hanging around where they shouldn't be?"

Jim snorted again. "John,
they have probably been hanging around where they shouldn't be. Let them on their way."