Chapter Text
I’m late, again!
Beads of perspiration run down the back of my neck as my feet pound along the unfamiliar sidewalks of Sunnydale, California. I approach the highway and spot a gap between two oncoming cars. I can make it. I dart through the traffic and hear the angry screech of a horn as a car narrowly avoids hitting me. Shit! When I reach the other side of the street, I turn back to see the driver threateningly gesturing at me. (Whoops) I wave back apologetically before continuing to run.
After jogging for a few more blocks, I feel the sharp burn of a stitch. I stop and breathe in lungfuls of air, clutching my side. God, I need to start exercising more! Glancing down at my handbag, I can hear the faint buzz of my cell phone vibrating. I reach inside to grab it, the light of the screen highlighting the gloom around me. The call cuts off before I can answer. Dammit, another missed call from Willow. I cannot help rolling my eyes as I see the time 21:30. Thirty minutes late! Will and the others are surely going to add tonight to their long list of moans about how I am always running late for something.
I have been looking forward to this evening all week. For the first time, I am heading to the local nightclub, The Bronze. The only club I have been told is worth going to in this town. After moving from LA, at the start of the Fall semester, I am still getting to know the area. Willow’s boyfriend Oz and his band, are playing a gig tonight. I cannot wait to show my support for the band and enjoy a fun night out with everyone. I was all ready to leave on time until Willow messaged me to say she had invited Riley to join us, which led to me changing my outfit more than once (7 times), stressing over what to do with my hair and consequently missing the last bus to the outskirts of town.
I check the map on my phone, which tells me to turn left as I approach the entrance of a rundown industrial park. I spot a long dirt track that runs along the back of the factories. Ok, it looks slightly creepy in the dark, but the map shows it is the quickest and most direct route to the club. I send Willow a text. ‘Sorry…I know, late again! I will be less than 15 mins xx’. Turning on the torch on my phone, I start walking, the light just strong enough to show the path directly in front of me.
“Shit!” I stumble as I jump over a pot hole and end up with tiny jagged stones in my open-toed sandals. As plans go, this probably is not my cleverest. So far, the ground has been littered with empty cans, broken glass, used condoms and worse. The large plain buildings to my right appear to be mostly warehouses and factories. A few seem to still be in use but the majority have smashed windows, boarded-up doors and are covered in graffiti. To my left is a tall fence covered in Ivy. Peering through a gap in the fence, where part of a wooden panel used to be, I can see a tangled mess of weeds, stinging nettles, and abandoned rubbish. I hold out my phone tightly, trying not to think about the battery and how quickly the flashlight app drains it. I am only on 13%. Unlucky for some! Each one of my beloved horror movies flashes in my mind. I do not fancy playing the part of the dumb blonde walking in the dark, alone and helpless. I’ve heard enough campus gossip about the ‘bad side of town.’ Apparently, this part of Sunnydale is a place notorious for fights, gangs and drugs, but after being raised in Downtown LA, I am quietly confident I can handle myself. My inner voice tuts that my attitude matches the stupid people in my favourite horror films who inevitably die in gruesome ways before the end credits. I try to ignore that voice.
After my parents’ divorce, my mom could not wait to leave LA. With her Bachelor’s degree in art history, she easily found a job here in Sunnydale managing the local art gallery. I could not begrudge my mom the amazing opportunity, but I was gutted to be leaving my home and all my friends. Everything improved the day I moved onto the Sunnydale campus and met my roommate Willow, a shy redhead who introduced me to her childhood friend Xander and her boyfriend Oz. The four of us have been inseparable ever since. After listening to me moan about my lack of a love life, Willow introduced me to Riley, one of our Psych class TAs. We are not officially dating yet but I am hopeful that tonight he will ask me out properly.
I am snapped from my thoughts as I catch sight of two shadowy figures further down the alley. I had not been expecting to see anyone else along here. I tell myself off for feeling jumpy and continue walking towards them. As I approach, I can make out the dark shapes of around seven or eight large motorcycles clustered together, blocking the width of the alley. The two men are dressed head to toe in black biker leathers, standing casually next to the bikes. They do not seem to have noticed me. A little knot of fear tightens in my stomach as I move closer. I can hear raised voices coming from further down the path. A part of me is screaming to myself to turn around and go back the way I came, but I’m no coward, and I don’t want to arrive at the Bronze any later. I hesitate but not for long. My curiosity is much stronger than my sense of self-preservation; it always has been.
I am only a few feet away when the men finally notice me approaching. They share a glance as they quickly straighten up and turn to face me. Trying not to look as uncomfortable as I feel, I force myself to meet their gaze. Both men are large and appear over six feet. One is covered in tattoos; a prominent Dragon design wraps around his neck and covers his right arm. The other man’s face is mainly obscured by a large bushy beard punctuated by a thick nose, which looks like it has been broken more than once.
I swallow the lump in my throat and plaster on my face the most charming smile I can muster, hoping they will let me pass without any trouble. The shouts from the other end of the alleyway are getting louder. When I reach the motorbikes, the man with the beard steps forward, stretching his arms wide to purposely obstruct my way. “No way through.”
Crap, I really do not have time for this. “Hey, guys, can you let me pass, please?”
“Are you deaf?” Dragon guy sneers at me.
Ok, rude! “Look, this is a public right of way…”
Dragon guy leans towards me, making a honking noise in his throat before he spits on the ground, narrowly missing my sandals. “Fuck off, Bitch!”
My look of disgust has both men laughing, as they turn away from me. Embarrassed, I am ready to admit defeat and start retreating until I see a gap between the bikes. While the men have their backs to me, I slip past as quickly and quietly as I can but my triumph is short-lived as my elbow connects with a handlebar. The noise of the impact and my yelp of pain now has both men’s attention.
“Hey, stop!” one of them shouts at me but I continue to zigzag my way around the motorcycles. I can hear the men swearing as their large frames hinder them from following as quickly. I run as fast as I can in sandals, not stopping once to look behind me.
After a slight bend in the path, I see the front door of a large building is wide open, allowing the light from inside to spill out into the darkness. I slow down slightly as I hear a cocky voice say, “Come on, Spike, what is all this about?”
I quietly peer around the open door and freeze. All thoughts of running are gone as I see the man whose voice I heard. He sits against the wall of a spacious room, empty of all furniture except for the rickety wooden chair that he is tied to. His wrists and ankles have been bound together with duct tape. His face has been badly beaten; his right eye is swollen shut and fresh blood is coming from a cut on his lip. Two men stand over the captive; the taller man has a handgun with a silencer pressed against his temple. I have seen enough movies to know that nobody puts a suppressor on a gun that they are not planning to use. The second man, his hair a striking blonde, stands in front of him. The blonde does not speak as he throws a handful of photographs to the floor. Some land on the prisoner’s lap while others fall to the ground and settle around his feet. Once the man sees the photos, shock floods his features and his jaw chatters with fright as he pleads, “That isn’t how it looks. I promise you…come on, you know me Spike, you all know me.” He shouts to four other men in the room, who seem to be silent witnesses. “I’m not a fucking rat!” He attempts to kick out angrily, the wooden chair legs rock and scrape across the floor as he pulls at his restraints. The pleading for his life becomes more desperate as the man he called Spike leans down to whisper into his ear.
The words I can’t make out make the prisoners' eyes go wide with fright. “Please, we can figure this out.” Spike gives the man one last look before straightening up and moving to stand at the opposite side of the room. “He doesn’t have to know. I promise, please I promise…I’ll leave, you will never have to see…”
I jump at the sound of a gunshot. Even with the silencer, it is surprisingly loud. Bright red blood splatters against the wall and floor. The force of the shot throws the man's head to the side. His once bright brown eyes stare in my direction, now vacant and dull.
It takes seconds for me to realise that the harrowing scream I can hear is coming from me. I don’t stop until a hand covers my mouth and I’m dragged backwards, behind the door of the building. Tears blur my vision as I struggle against my captor, recognising the colourful dragon tattoo on his arm. He keeps his hand across my mouth and his left fist clenched tightly around my shirt. I have no means of escape this time. There is a reeking pile of rubbish bags next to us, the smell and the fear in my chest causing nausea to swell in my throat. I clench my eyes closed.
“Hey, what the fuck is she doing here?” I recoil at the sound of the angry voice.
“Shit, Spike, she showed up out of nowhere.” The large guy with the bushy beard sounds out of breath as he reaches us.
“What’s the point of getting you two to stand guard if a little girl can sneak past you?”
“We weren’t expecting to see anyone; no one comes down this way once it’s dark…”
“For fuck sake Rack, let her go.” I don’t struggle or try to run after Dragon guy releases me and steps away. I hold my breath until the urge to throw up passes. When I open my eyes again, the blonde guy, Spike, is standing in front of me. His eyes narrow as they sweep over my trembling figure. They are steel blue, hard, cold, and angry. A prominent scar runs through his left eyebrow. “Scream again and there will be consequences.”
I shakily nod my head.
“So, what’s a princess like you doing in this shithole?” I say nothing. He leans forward, bringing his face closer to mine. I feel his breath on my cheeks. “Do you know what happens to people who poke their nose into my business?” I try to shrink back against the wall but he lunges quickly, grabbing my handbag and ripping it from my hand. He glances inside it briefly before chucking it behind him. “Search it.”
The Dragon guy catches it, a large grin on his face as he tips it upside down, allowing the contents to fall to the ground. I watch as my purse, phone, keys, loose change, and lipstick hit the dirt. He bends down to pick up my purse, opening it and taking out my ID.
“FBI?” Spike asks.
“Nope, college student.” He passes my ID to Spike.
Spike looks down at the card and then back to me. There is a strange look on his face as he stares at me. “You have ten seconds to explain why you’re here?” Tears roll down my cheeks. I can’t speak. I know he is going to kill me. “Cat got your tongue.” A few of the other men chuckle. “I recommend that you start talking now!”
“P…Please don’t kill me.” I swallow the bile burning the back of my throat and search my mind for the right thing to say. “I was trying to find… I mean, I was meant to be meeting my friends at the Bronze.”
“But instead, you decided to spy on my associates and me?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please let me go. I just want to go home.”
“We don’t have time for this.” The guy who pulled the trigger is standing behind Spike, agitatedly tapping the gun against his thigh.
“I know, Clem.” Spike turns to face the others. “Right, all of you head out! And you two,” he points to the two men who stopped me in the alley. “We will be having a chat later.” After he watches the men leave, he quickly turns his attention back to me. He gently reaches out to hold my chin and makes me meet his gaze. “It is important that you don’t go blabbing about what you saw tonight!” I nod shakily, not trusting myself to speak again. His mouth smiles, though his eyes do not. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
The sound of motorcycle engines revving loudly startles me. Spike continues staring at me intently. He must be thinking about shooting me. I imagine the Police finding my body, going to my mom’s house and waking her up to tell her the news. Seconds later he lets go of my chin and places my ID card in my hand. “Don’t make me regret this.” As he turns to walk away, he bends down and picks up my phone, slipping it into his coat pocket before disappearing around the bend of the alley. Not long after I hear the hum of a bike starting up and the rev of it driving away.
My legs slowly give way, I slide down the wall until my bum touches the cold ground. I sob loudly, relieved that I am still alive, but now horribly afraid of being left alone in the dark with a bleeding out corpse on the other side of the door.