The Pulse Series (Book 1): Pulse (3 page)

John frowned down at his partner, but smiled again when he looked up at us. "Okay, you kids best get home now, but you be sure to tell us if you see any suspicious activity."

Trey nodded, and I gave the man a small smile. The two of us turned and walked away from the pair.

Although not an unusual sight in the city, that had been the first time I had been stopped by the military police. They set up their little mobile stations around the place under the guise of being ready to take any reports from the ever watchful public. Most people I knew thought they were there to try and make anyone in the area think twice about committing any crime. It couldn't be a coincidence that they were usually only set up around the upper class areas. I had never seen one anywhere near where I live.

"Why do you keep rubbing your chest?"

I turned to look at Trey in confusion, but realized that I was indeed rubbing at my chest. I shrugged and looked forward again. "Something to do with my ribs, I think."

"You okay?"

I nodded. "I'll be fine in a few days."

We walked in silence for a few more minutes before Trey spoke up again. "Medicine prices suck, huh?"

I frowned at looked up at him. He looked a little too nonchalant. "Yeah. They sure do."

We walked in silence for another few minutes while I waited from him to continue. Just when I thought he wasn't going to say any more he turned to me.

"If medical care were cheaper you could get your ribs looked at."

I nodded, but then shrugged. "It is what it is, though. No point thinking about it."

Trey nodded, but his lips twisted. I wasn't sure he was going to come out with it, so I tried to poke.

"Your mom could probably get some treatment too."

Trey looked up at me and opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He sighed and gave a nod of his head. "The military."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What about them?"

"They have the equipment for this kind of thing. They have doctors."

I shrugged. "Sure, but not here."

"But if I joined…"

I looked up at him in shock. "You're thinking of joining the military?"

Trey started to shake his head, but then he shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. Just seems like it's a pretty easy thing to do these days."

I sighed. "You may be right, but you're forgetting one thing."

"What's that?"

I turned to look him in the eyes. "Freedom. If you join the military you have to do what they say, when they say it. You know the minimum term for enlisting is fifteen years. Can you give up the next fifteen years of your life?"

Trey shrugged. "When the alternative is this? Living like dogs and treated worse. Where is the freedom in that?"

I sighed and looked away. Trey had obviously been giving this some thought, and I didn't think I would be able to sway his mind with logic. I tried for a more emotional argument. "Could you say goodbye to your mother? How about your little sister?"

Trey winced and I knew I had hit a sore spot. His mom had been relying on the money Trey brought home to feed the family. Without him there to not only provide for, but protect them…? Well, some things are better left not thought about.

"Okay," Trey said, shaking his head. "It was a dumb idea anyway."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I don't think trying to provide for your family is a bad thing. I just think that there are other ways to go about it."

Trey snorted. "Yeah, petty crime. That's really bringing in the big bucks."

I frowned at him. Trey was the positive one. This was out of character for him, which could only mean one thing. This whole conversation had been about something.

I stopped dead and stared at him. "What is this about?"

He stopped and looked at me in confusion. After a few seconds he dropped the act and gave me a half smile. "Never could slip anything past you."

I raised my eyes and waited.

"I have a proposition for you."

I frowned as I ran through the implications. "You have something. Something big maybe. You knew I wouldn't like it though, so you tried to manipulate me into feeling sorry for you."

Trey winced. "Manipulate is a strong word."

"I call a tree a tree."

"Look, it's not like—"

I held up a hand. "Just spit it out. What's the proposition?"

Trey looked like he wanted to argue some more, but thought better of it and gestured toward a nearby bench. I sat and, once he had done the same, waited from him to speak.

"I recently came across some… knowledge."

I raised my eyebrows. "Knowledge?"

Trey nodded. "I learned of the location of a large sum of cash."

I shrugged and pointed at a nearby bank. "There's cash right in there. Doesn't mean much to us out here."

"This cash if off the grid. Not in a secure location like a bank. No police presence."

I paused to consider that. Then considered who Trey knew. I turned back to him with my eyes wide. "This is Syndicate, isn't it?"

Trey winced and held up a hand to run through the hair on the back of his head. "Look, I know what you're thinking. It's risky, but it's a good score. It's the kind of score that will change our lives. I can get my family medical care, and you can finally leave your mom's house. Hell you might even be able to leave the city." Trey sighed and looked me in the eyes. "This is the kind of thing we've been waiting for."

The Syndicate were what passed for a drug ring since the military shut most of the old ones down. It was pretty much more of the same, but they had no headquarters and no single structure. They operated in cells like terrorist organizations to make sure that if any were caught they wouldn't be able to give away anyone else. They were bad news to be involved with, let alone steal from. These people had no qualms about putting a bullet in their own to stay hidden.

I took a few minutes to think it through before deciding. I noticed I was rubbing my chest again. The pressure in my chest was edging into pain territory. I looked up at Trey. "You were right." He smiled down at me, but I shook my head. "I don't like this."

Trey opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. "You think that you can get away with robbing the mafia? Are you brain dead? Even talking about this kind of thing is enough to catch you a ride to the bottom of a lake." I sighed and shook my head. "I get where you're coming from, Trey, I really do, but this isn't the way to go about it."

"Then what is?"

There was no venom in his voice. It was a simple question. I shook my head. "I don't know. But I can't. I'm sorry."

Trey took a few seconds before he sighed and stood up, turning to offer me a hand. "I knew it was a long shot. No point in pushing the point, if you're really that against it?"

I nodded. "I am."

He shook his head and smiled down at me. "Then that's that. Come on let's get you home. It's starting to get dark."

I smiled and started walking with him. "Trey?"

He turned to me an raised and eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Don't do it."

Trey considered me for a few seconds, before turning away. "Sorry. I can't promise that."

I sighed and nodded. There wasn't any point in saying anything else.

The two of us walked the rest of the way home in silence.

FOUR

I woke to a banging noise.

I frowned at the sound for a few moments, but when the fog of sleep lifted I realized someone was knocking on my door. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stretched my arms. My lamp was off, but I could make out my room well enough with the dull glow coming through my window from the street below. A glace up to my clock revealed it was four in the morning.

My chest was killing me. The pressure had gotten worse before I'd gone to sleep, and now it was starting to effect my breathing. I took a few shallow breaths to try to minimize the pain when the banging on my door started again.

"Mom, I'm sleeping, go away." I rolled back over, turning my back to the door. The banging increased in volume so I dragged myself out of bed and walked over to the door. When she was in one of these moods I just had to talk to her. If I ignored it she would be banging at my door all night. I opened the lock and swung the door open, blinding myself with the light from the hallway. "Look, mom, I'm not in the mood tonight—"

A hand reached through the doorway and pushed me hard on the chest. I stumbled back and lost my footing, falling to the floor.

"What the heck, Mom, do you have to be such a psycho?"

"Your Mom's passed out in the living room," Chuck's voice said as he stepped into my room, pulling the door closed behind him. I could make our his grin in the dull light coming in from the window. "You and me? We're all alone."

My stomach felt like it had dropped out from beneath me, and for a moment I thought I was going to throw up. My vision blurred, but I focused my mind and waited for Chuck to move.

Chuck reached out behind his body and locked the door, and I took that opportunity to launch at his groin with a foot. He hit my foot out of the air with his fist, knocking me off balance, and kicked me hard in the ribs. Pain exploded up my damaged side as I gulped in air, trying to keep my head so I could get out of this. I looked up at him again and felt my eyes widen.

He was holding a kitchen knife.

It was like I'd taken a step back from my body. For a moment it felt like my blood turned to ice. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen. I was smarter than this. I took precautions against this. He took a step toward me.

This was happening.

"We're going to have a little private time, you and I." A cruel smile twisted his features. "Now I know I don't have to tell you about screaming, because I'll have you know I've cut people before. By the looks of their reactions it isn't a pleasurable experience. I don't want to have to mar that pretty face of yours. You understand?"

I pushed myself backward and tried to stop my body from shaking. My back made contact with the wall and my heart was beating fast against my chest. The pressure there was building so much I could notice it over the searing pain in my side. I tried to force myself to calm down, but given the circumstances that was impossible. I looked around for one last ditch effort to escape, but couldn't see anything that would help me.

Chuck stepped forward.

I kicked out again and caught him in the leg, causing him to grunt in pain.

"You stupid bitch." He leaned forward and swung his arm toward me.

I lifted my hands in front of me and caught the sharp of the blade on my left hand. I gasped at the pain, so bright and sudden, and clutched my hand into my body to put as much pressure on it as possible.

"Don't make me do that again." He lifted the knife above me and pressed it into my throat. I froze against the pressure, but he didn't slash at me again. All he did was reach down with his free hand to unzip his pants. When I stopped trying to fight against him, he took the knife away from my throat.

The pressure in my chest built, and for a moment I thought I was going to have a heart attack. When his pants were down he knelt in front of me and grabbed my leg, pulling me forward and onto my back. It felt like my ribs were about to break there was so much pressure.

I couldn't even feel the cut on my hand or the pain in my ribs any more. My chest hurt so much. For a moment I wasn't able to take in any air, and I thought I was going to pass out. Chuck was reaching down to my underwear. The pressure in my chest was unbearable.

Then it exploded.

A wave of pain blew from my chest, causing me to scream the loudest I have ever screamed. At least I think I screamed, I could barely hear over the noise screaming in my head. I could feel my body explode outward, and at that moment I knew I was going to die.

And then the pain faded.

I looked down at my chest, expecting to see blood, but there was nothing. I was fine. I looked up to Chuck and for the first time noticed something strange. He wasn't moving.

It wasn't that he had stopped attacking me—it was that he was not moving a muscle. He didn't blink. He wasn't even breathing. I scrambled out from under him and stood up. The position he was in didn't even seem possible. He was leaning too far forward, and should have fallen, but he was just kind of floating in the air there. I turned to my desk and grabbed one of the thicker books from the top of the pile.

That was when I felt what I can only describe as the air in the room rush back into me. It wasn't like before, with the unbearable pressure, but there was a small bubble that I could feel back in my chest. As this happened Chuck came to life and fell face forward onto the floor.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and looked down in confusion. "What the f—"

I slammed the book as hard as I could into the back of his head. He slumped forward and dropped the knife. I kept the book raised above my head, ready to bring it down the moment he moved.

He didn't.

After a few seconds to consider I smashed the book down on him again anyway. Better safe than sorry.

I stepped back and dropped the book, my legs folding beneath me as the adrenaline wore off. My hands were shaking, I looked over to Chuck's still body and shuddered. He had been so close.

I stood and rushed to my wardrobe, grabbing pants and sliding them on, then a shirt to pull over my tank top. When I finished dressing I ran to my desk and grabbed my backpack, filling it with as much food as I could fit. I was halfway to the door when I turned back and picked up the knife, slipping it into my backpack.

I opened my door and squinted as the bright light from the hallway hit my eyes, but didn't stop moving as I made my way toward the front door. My eyes adjusted as I walked through the living room and I saw my mom lying on the couch. I paused for a moment. She was fast asleep with a needle still sticking out of her arm.

I had never felt so angry in all my life.

This was her fault. She was there to protect me. She was there to take care of me. There were things that moms were there to do, and she had failed in every way. I took one last look at the thing lying on the couch and walked out of the apartment.