The Pulse Series (Book 1): Pulse (5 page)

I slammed into the mess dead center avoiding the steel edges, but wasn't spared much. Someone had thrown out strips of rebar, and one of them stabbed into my leg. I cried out in shock and pain, the involuntary twisting of my body putting the gunman above directly into my line of sight. He took aim at me and pulled the trigger again.

Hands reached into the dumpster and tore me out of it. The pain in my leg redoubled and I fought against the hands until I saw that it was Trey. He paused only a moment to put me on me feet and, my wrist in hand, started running. Pain pulsed in my leg, sharp and bright, I tried to force it from my mind as I ran. Shots rang out behind us but we had managed to drop four stories in the space of a few seconds. There was no way that they could have followed us in time.

My theory was broken as a shot, unsilenced this time, rang out from behind us. A glass window next to my head shattered into pieces and the people around us started screaming. I turned back to look and saw the second man who had been standing in the doorway pushing his way through the crowd of people now running for safety.

My eyes were pulled forward again when I was pulled around a corner and down another alley. There were people in here running for doorways and shelter, but Trey powered past them and took another corner onto the next street.

"Trey. There," I said, pointing toward a twenty-four hour department store. We quickly made our way into the store and down one of the aisles. I dropped onto the floor next to a pile of cans and watched as Trey peered around the corner.

He sagged and let out a sigh. "He went right past."

I nodded and gave Trey a smile. "We did it."

He looked down at me with a grin that was soon replaced with a grimace. "Were you shot?"

I looked down at my leg and noticed a small pool of blood under my right calf on the floor. I felt lightheaded for a moment, but took a deep breath and got it under control. "No. I hurt it in the fall." I clamped my hands tight over the wound and looked up at Trey. "You think this store has bandages?"

Within a few minutes Trey had returned with the bandages and we had made our way into the nearest bathroom to patch me up. The wound wasn't nearly as bad as it felt and wouldn't impair my movement much. Trey bandaged it up tight to prevent any more blood from coming through, but not before first torturing me with half a bottle of antiseptic.

"You scared me half to death with that jump."

I shrugged. "Didn't have much of a choice. I should have been out of the room faster. No idea what happened to me there."

Trey shook his head. "That's the first time I've ever seen you freeze. You're the best runner I know. I wouldn't have had a chance in hell of landing in that dumpster. How did you even think of it?"

I shook my head. "No idea. Stuff like that just comes to me in the heat of the moment."

Trey laughed. "So that's two buildings you've jumped from in as many days. You sure do have a death wish."

"I'm just making sure life stays interesting."

Trey shook his head. "You do at that."

As we stood to leave I looked at the stall I had just occupied and grimaced. "I feel sorry for whoever has to clean this up."

Trey snorted and turned toward the door. "Come on. We have to get this stuff off our hands as soon as possible."

I winced. I'd forgetting about the drugs. Trey was right. The sooner this was over the better.

SEVEN

Trey pointed toward a bar. The place was sunk into the ground as part of the basement of an office building above it, and required walking down stairs to reach the front door. The building itself was barely serviceable with half the windows replaced with boards of wood and graffiti littering them. The place looked about as inviting as a coffin.

I looked at the stairs again and winced. "What about that guy?"

A bear of a man dressed in black with a crew cut stood with his arms crossed leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. His shirt had white printed letters that read 'Staff'.

I turned to Trey. "We aren't exactly legal."

Trey gave a small snort of laughter. "Don't worry about him. He's there to make sure no-one makes trouble, not to keep paying customers from entering."

I frowned at him. "How many times have you been to this place?"

Trey shrugged, and then started toward the stairs. I followed behind him, glancing around on the lookout for a cop.

"Stop looking so suspicious."

I sighed and hiked up the heavy backpack. "I
feel suspicious."

Trey shook his head and let out a short breath of laughter. "Just stick with me."

As we got to the door Trey lifted his head slightly. "Sup, Mike."

Mike the bouncer nodded in Trey's direction. His eyes passed over me and a small frown touched his features, but he didn't make any move away from his place on the wall. I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed Trey down the stairs. At the bottom was a small faded sign that read 'The Pool' with an arrow pointing toward the door. Trey pushed it open and went in, and I followed behind before the door could shut.

The first thing that hit me was the sound. The second was the smell. Both came in a wave that left me both wincing in pain and gagging from the stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke. Apparently the people in this establishment didn't care much for anti-smoking laws. Or cleaning. Most of the surfaces in the place looked stained from years of dropped drinks, and the carpet under my feet felt spongy and damp. The bar was everything you would expect, long wooden bench on one side behind which stood a wall of drinks and taps. Tables were placed sporadically around the room with a small bare section set up as an impromptu dance floor. Against the wall was a small raised stage that was currently host to a band pumping out rock music from the last century slightly off-key. Against the opposing wall was a set of booths that, while not completely private, were at least removed as far as possible from the band.

Trey nodded toward the bartender and held up two fingers. The bartender nodded and turned around to begin making some drinks. Trey locked eyes with me and then pointed toward a booth over by the edge of the building furthest away from the stage. I nodded and made my way over there, weaving through the crowd of tables and people walking. I almost made it to the empty seat when someone grabbed me.

"Whoa there little girl I think I'm have'ta see some ID."

A chill passed over me and I looked up toward the source of the voice. A shortish man with a beard and a red face was grinning down at me, his hand clamped tight around my upper arm. The fear that had rushed through me fled when I saw his friends behind him at a table shaking their heads and laughing. This guys wasn't anyone important. Just another drunk. I knew how to deal with drunks.

I smiled and bit my lip and looked up at him. "Am I in some kind of trouble?" I tilted my head to the side and leaned in a little.

The man grinned and let out a breath full of beer. The grip on my arm slackened a touch. "Well you just might be, how about we-"

I twisted my arm around, pulling myself free of his hand, and brought up a knee into his groin. The man hit the floor with a slap that was audible over the music, and a low groan came after. I looked up at his friends, but they were banging the table laughing. Behind them I saw Mike the bouncer staring at me. He gave me a small nod, and opened the door to go back outside. A smirk flicked across my face as I realized I had done the right thing.

I leaned down to speak into his ear. "I think we've established some boundaries, don't you?"

The man nodded and let out a breathy "Yes, ma'am," before crawling back toward his friends, who helped him up and slapped another beer in his hands.

It was easier going through the crowd now that I was given a wider berth, and I was soon sitting in the booth waiting for Trey. After a few minutes of watching the people as they moved about the place he slipped onto one of the chairs opposite me holding two drinks. He slid one toward me which I took a sip of to be polite, but didn't drink any more than that. I didn't feel like being fuzzy in a place like this.

"Already getting into trouble?"

I shrugged. "You know me."

Trey opened his mouth to say something but paused as an imposing figure loomed over us. I looked up to see a tall man who was more overweight than muscular, but still not a guy you'd want to mess with. He was dressed in full motorcycle leathers, boots included, with skull and eagle insignia patched onto it. The mans face was mostly hidden behind a large beard, but I could make out his dark brown eyes as he glared down at us. Trey slid to the side, and the man squeezed himself into the booth. Even across the table I could smell his breath, and I had to stop myself from gagging.

The man turned to look at Trey. "Heard you had something for me."

Trey shrugged and one of his eyebrows lifted as he looked up at the man. "I might have something. You got capital?"

The man grunted and reached into his jacket to pull out a thick yellow envelope. He dropped it on the table in front of us, and Trey nodded at me.

I picked up the package and opened it to find a stack of bills inside. I flicked through the bills to gain a rough count, then looked back up at Trey. "Ten."

Trey's expression darkened and he looked up at the man. "This is worth at least fifteen, and you know it."

The man shrugged. "You're jittery. I don't like jittery. The speed at which this has come up is suspect. That added to the fact that word is one of the Syndicate houses got hit today gives me some suspicions. There is a five grand reward for anyone who does the fingering, so perhaps I should just take that offer of cash?"

Trey raised his hands palm out. "Ten sounds good."

The man's smile was filled with yellow teeth. "I thought as much."

Trey reached toward his bag but before he or I could react the man leaned forward and snatched the envelope out of my hands. "Not in here. We do this in the alleyway down the block."

Trey frowned. "No way. What's to prevent you from sticking us with a knife and taking both the drugs and the money."

The man snorted and shook his head. "You've been watching too many TV shows, kid. That's bad business, and I don't need that kind of reputation."

I tilted my head to the side. "Then what's the problem with doing it here?"

The man turned to look at me. "You think I'm walking out of this fucking place with two backpacks filled with smack? You must think I'm stupid."

I raised my eyebrows. "So you're asking us to do it for you?"

He shrugged. "I'm not asking shit. You'll either be in the alley or you won't. Fifteen minutes and I'm out of there." With that he pushed himself up from the table and pushed his way through the crowd toward the exit. Two men dressed in the same leathers joined him on his way out.

I turned to Trey. "What do you think?"

Trey sighed. "The guy may look like a thug, but he's right about his reputation. He won't kill us over ten grand."

I shook my head. That kind of money could change my life, and these men tossed it around like it was nothing. I shrugged off the thought and nodded toward Trey, and the two of us stood as one and made our way toward the front door. Trey nodded toward mike as we hit the top of the stairs and we started to make our way down the street toward the alleyway where the biker and his friends were waiting.

"Stop right there."

A bright light hit me in the eyes and after a few seconds to adjust I could see a pair of police officers walking across the street toward us.

Trey turned to me. "Run."

I watched as Trey took off his backpack and swung it toward me. I reached out to catch the bag and, in those two seconds, watched as Trey threw himself at a run toward the police officers. One of them reached for his gun but was only halfway to his belt when Trey collided with him, sending them both to the ground. The second officer turned toward Trey and brought a boot down on his head. Trey's scream of pain made me flinch. The first officer had pushed Trey off him and was reaching for his cuffs, while the second turned to look at me.

I ran. My leg hurt, but all I had to do was outrun this cop. It was either that or spend the rest of my life in prison. I thought briefly about the pressure in my chest, but as with earlier that day it wasn't anywhere near feeling like it was going to explode.

"Stop right there!" the officer screamed as his footsteps slapped the pavement behind me. I reached the alleyway we had been headed toward (the biker men no longer in sight) and turned, putting all my weight onto my injured leg.

It gave out.

I slammed down to the ground dropping Trey's bag and rolling a few times before coming to a stop. The man's knees slammed into my chest as he pressed himself down onto me and pinned me to the ground. I let my head drop down to the asphalt. My leg screamed in pain, and my ribs screamed just as much, but more than that was a screaming in my head. This was it. Game over.

The officer flipped over and my hands cuffed behind me back. "You have the right to remain silent."

I did.

EIGHT

I sat and stared at my reflection. My lip had a small cut from where my head had hit the ground as I'd fallen, but the blood had already clotted. My hair was a mess with tangles of red everywhere that stuck out to the side and made me look like a crazy person. It had been that way as my photograph was taken when I was processed, and I winced at the thought of this image of me being on file for the rest of my life.

I sighed and looked away from the mirror. I shifted in the metal seat, but try as I might I couldn't get comfortable. Might have had something to do with the fact that my arms were still handcuffed behind my back through a rung in the back of the chair. I stretched my shoulders, popping the joints, and felt a shiver run through me. My body ached to be free of the confinement. It ached to run.

I looked down at my leg again. When I had been brought in the cop had told the medics of my injuries, and they had redressed the wound and would a fresh bandage around my chest for the ribs. I had been given painkillers to numb some of the sting, but nothing strong enough to knock me out. That wouldn't do. I would need to be questioned first.