To be Maria (29 page)

            "I can't wait until graduation."

            Carly chuckles bitterly. "Yeah, if you do graduate. You were expelled, remember?"
And with your level of intelligence, I don't think anyone will admit you into their school.
She keeps her eyes peeled on the corridor ahead. For a Saturday afternoon, the mall is not busy. Only a handful of people inhabit the space around her. Two of those people are vicious looking young men. She finds their appearance attractive in a dark kind of way. One of them is dressed in a long, grey trench coat and his head is shaved almost bald. Carly can see that he has a deep red tattoo on the side of his neck, but she can’t make out what it is. The other man is slightly short and husky in stature. His brown hair is slicked back and his chin boasts a thick, but small, patch of hair. He is clad in a black, Addidas track suit with a thick, black coat overtop.

            Carly's eyes shift back to the man in the trench coat. He looks oddly familiar, like she has seen him before. But where? That is when the name Adrik Preschnikov pops into her mind. Carly never knew him personally, but her older brother did. He considers Adrik a freak, a total waste of humanity. That’s exactly what Anya is. The only thing that sets the two siblings apart is Anya's determination to break into the film industry. Regardless of that difference, Carly believes Anya is incapable of achieving anything great in her life.

            Carly should feel remorse for what she did to Anya, but she doesn't. Every time she thinks about Anya, she vibrates.

            "Who was that tall, dark-haired guy who was with Maria?" Kirsten says.

            The memory of that terrible moment plays over in Carly's mind. She shudders when she thinks about that man, the way he held Matt by his throat. She can still recall his words;
I'll hunt you down and make your life so miserable, you'll want to kill yourself.
It's as if she just heard them a second ago. They chill her to the bone. "You mean, that man with the dark, wavy, shoulder-length hair?" Carly realizes that she is the dumb one the moment that question slips out of her mouth. She also realizes that she has gained the attention of the two young men. They stare at her, their expressions filled with hatred. She suddenly feels alone and afraid. Even Kirsten's presence cannot comfort her.

****

            Maria is met by Alex the second she steps outside the door. Her hope is dashed the moment she sees him. He tries to look nonchalant, standing on the sidewalk with his hands tucked in the pockets of his coat. Maria, though, can easily detect the anxiety in his eyes. She can feel the tension emanate from his body. In a normal situation, she would feel badly for him, but all she can feel is hatred and fear.

            "You done?" His voice is brusque.

            "Yes, I'm done."
I wish you would go to hell.

           
"Your mother left?"

            Maria grits her teeth. "Yes."
What concern is that of yours?

           
"Maria," he says, his voice suddenly much softer, "I know you're angry with me, and I can understand why," he whispers into her ear while he slips his arm around hers.

            She jerks herself out of his embrace. "Then, why are you doing this to us?"

            For a moment, he stares at her, thunderstruck. But soon enough, he regains his composure. "I have to fill my truck up with gas."

            "That doesn't answer my question, Alex," she says, struggling to keep her voice at a normal pitch.

            "Forget it," he yells. He jerks open the rear door of his vehicle. "Get in."

            She looks from him to Anya, who is seated behind the passenger seat. She is so still that she looks like a statue, and her face is as pale as one.
Come on, Anya. Get out of the truck. We have to get out of here. It's now or never.

           
"Maria. Get in the truck," Alex says through clenched teeth.

            She steps up into the cab hesitantly. Marissa, who is seated in the passenger seat, turns around and gives her a cold look. "How did it go?"

            Maria's heartbeat starts to quicken.
None of your damn business
. "Good."

            "Well, what did you tell her?" Her accusing glare bears down on Maria like a hawk.

            A cold sweat breaks out under Maria's armpits and all over her torso. "Nothing."

            The reproving look on Marissa's face deepens.

            "We were talking about school."

            "Really? I thought you dropped out."

            Maria's face flushes red.
Crap! What do I tell her now?
"Uh...I couldn't tell her that."

            "So, you made something up, didn't you?" Alex says while he steers the truck onto the street.

            "Yes I did. And that’s the honest truth." She can feel the palm of Anya's hand over her right hand. It is warm and clammy. Maria turns to face her. She wants so much to tell Anya that everything will be okay, that they will escape to Spain and live a much better life. But she knows that if she does, they will both be in much more trouble than they already are.

****

            Anya is just as frightened as Maria is. She has felt this way all morning, especially during Maria's absence. Alex and Maria have showered her with kindness, but it’s all superficial. Deep down inside, she knows that they don't care about her. They only care about their own safety. If she had tried to leave, they would have forced her back into the kitchen, just like Alex had done to Maria earlier on. This realization is terrifying, but also incredibly painful. Anya feels betrayed. She honestly thought that Alex and Marissa were her friends. She has envisioned herself with them and Maria, having as much fun as they did over the past two weeks. She often daydreams of the four of them sitting around a campfire at the beach in the summer, telling stories to each other. She never anticipated this: being forced into a gang against her will. Anya can’t live with them and she certainly doesn't want to stay friends with them; not after what they did to her and Maria.

            The two girls can't even stay in this city. But where will they go? She searches Maria for an answer, longing to know how her time with her mother went, but all that Maria gives her is an equally frightened look.

            Anya turns to stare out of the window. The buildings seem to fly by as the truck speeds down the street. The thought that she is stuck in a vehicle with two very dangerous people and not knowing where they are going, makes her heart gallop. "W-Where are we going? she says.            "To the gas station," Alex says.

****

            They pull into a Shell station in a suburb in the city's east end. Alex jumps out of the vehicle, then walks over to the gas pump. Anya looks at Maria, wishing desperately that she would say something. Anything. She knows that Maria can read her thoughts because, the moment she looks at Anya, she digs her hands into her purse. Anya can only guess that she's looking for a pen and a small pad of paper.

            Her attention shifts from Maria to Alex. He's no longer at the gas pumps. He must have gone inside the building to pay for the gas. She then, for no reason, looks at her seat belt: it’s confining and it sits uncomfortably over her chest and waist. Slowly, Anya lowers her hand to her left hip. She presses the edge of her thumb down on the buckle's release button. The belt slides out with a faint click. Unfortunately, it’s loud enough for Marissa to hear.

            "What are you doing, Anya?"

            Her heart races. "I…uh…just undid my seatbelt."

            "Why? Alex is gonna be back here any second."

            "I just…need some more room to stretch." She shifts her gaze back to Maria, but out of the corner of her left eye, she spots a new, black car crawling along the street parallel to where they are parked. Anya scrutinizes it.
Why is that car moving so slowly? This entire area is a fifty zone. What? It stopped?
She sees the passenger and side windows roll down all the way, exposing two young men whose faces are hidden behind sunglasses and hooded coats. For no reason, they each pull out a gun, pointing them directly at the truck.

            Anya's eyes bulge open. Her heart feels like it has leapt into her throat. In haste, she flings open the door with one hand, grabs Maria's shoulder with her spare hand and tries to pull her down.

            "Ouch. Anya, what the--" The blast of the guns fill the air around them.        

            Anya slides out of the truck and away from the open door just before the bullets shatter the windows and penetrate the truck's interior. The noise is deafening. Anya lays on the cold cement between the truck and the gas pump, curled into a ball, her body pressed against the tire. She can hear a woman from inside of the gas station scream at the top of her lungs. The next thing she hears is Alex's voice. It’s loud and frantic.

            "Marissa. Maria. Anya. Oh my God! Oh my God!"

            Anya uncurls her body slowly, then lifts up her head and peers in the direction of his voice. A searing pain shoots through her entire neck, but she’s too overwhelmed to care. She sees him racing in her direction, bent low to avoid the bullets and to prevent himself from being seen by the evildoers in the black car. His face is wild with fear. It reminds her of the way Maria looked at her in the truck just a few minutes ago. Anya's mouth goes dry and her heart pounds hard against her chest.
Maria!
She jerks herself up onto her bottom.

            "No! Anya! Stay down," Alex screams.

            She ignores him and staggers onto her feet. By now, the gun fire has ceased and, Anya suspects the black car is gone. She looks inside the cab. Both of the windows on the opposite side are shattered to the point where there is nothing left of them. Maria lays across the long seat, covered in glass and blood. Marissa sits slumped, her bloodied head leaning against the fractured window pane. Her blood is splattered all over the windshield and door window. It forms thick, red streams as it meanders through the cracks in the windows. But Anya doesn't care about her; all she can think about at this moment is Maria.

            "Maria," she screams at the top of her voice. She brushes the hair out of Maria's face, discovering that that entire side of her face is covered in blood. "Maria! Wake up," she yells, shaking her limp body. But Maria remains still and cold. Fresh blood leaks from her body. "Please. Wake up. I need you. Don't go. Please." She begins to sob uncontrollably. An unexpected grip on her right shoulder causes her to jump backwards. She pivots on her heel. Alex is standing right next to her. The emotionless look on his face sends Anya into a rage. She balls her hand into a fist and plunges it into his stomach with as much force as she can muster. "You did this! This is all your fault," she screams.

            "What the..."

            She raises her fist again. This time, it connects with his nose. She can hear the bones crack. Blood spurts out in every direction. "I hate you, Alex! I hate you! I wish you would have been the one who was killed!" Just as she lifts her right foot, she feels someone grab her from behind. She turns to find a burly, middle-aged man standing right next to her, his hand clasped firmly around her right wrist. "Let me go," she screams.

            "It's alright, sweaty. I want you to calm down and tell us what happened." His voice is calm, but firm.

            She stops struggling, then sinks to the ground. "They killed my friend."

            "It was two men in a black Mercedes," says the owner of the Shell station, a short, thin, Asian man.

            "They also killed my girlfriend," Alex says, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears. Anya, though, can hear the anger in his voice. "I didn't plan for any of this."

            "Of course not. You just came to fill your truck up with gas," the Asian man says.

            Anya can tell by the way the man's voice trembles that he’s also shaken up by this event. He is too distraught to suspect Alex of any foul play.

            "The police and the paramedics will be here any minute. Can either of you tell me what these men look like?" the burly man says.

            Anya can hear a chorus of sirens in the distance. They rapidly grow louder as they approach the gas station. Her blood runs cold when she thinks about them." I-I don't know. They were wearing sunglasses and their hoods were pulled right over their heads, so I could barely see their faces." She steals a glance at Alex. Even through her tears, she can see the thunderous look on his face.

            Alex stares blankly at the two policemen standing before him. One of them is tall and lean, possibly in his mid thirties. He goes by the name of Bill, so he had told Alex. The other officer, who appears to be slightly older, is shorter and stouter in build. His name is Andreas. They both look at Alex imploringly, but he can't give them anymore answers than what Anya has already given them.

            His eyes drift over to his bullet ridden, blood soaked truck.
That truck is no good to me anymore.
His gaze then shifts over to where two ambulances are parked. The two bodies --Marissa and Maria -- are already laid on stretchers. A white sheet covers each body, their ankles and waists secured by yellow straps to prevent them from slipping off. Anya stands near one ambulance, her face white and expressionless. He can almost see the tear streaks on her face. He is deeply shocked himself. Just a few minutes ago, Marissa and Maria, his best companions, were alive. And now they're dead. Two hooded men ruthlessly robbed them of the lives they deserved to live.