Copyright © 2017 by Melina Wedin

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First printing, 2017

  For Matthew

  Thank you for introducing me to video games. Without the long nights of playing together, this story would have never been written.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter 1

  There it was, the city of Whitestead. Parked on the side of an empty road, Brooke turned off the engine of her old Ford. The moonlight assisted the neon lights in making the city look magical. High-rises seemed to reach the clouds, and the blinking signs made it look alive, awake, and powerful. The road lay dark with faint white lines lit up by the street lights. Brooke wondered if a cop would drive by and tell her to move if she tried to sleep. Oh, well, even if they did, I would just find an alley somewhere and try again. She began pulling down the backrest and got herself into a comfortable enough position.

  She couldn’t sleep, though. Her mind was racing, thoughts of her life back home echoed inside her head. She thought of Luca, of how she had loved him so much she would die for him, and now he had transformed her into a nobody. It wasn’t entirely his fault, she knew that, but she couldn’t help but blame him nonetheless. If he would have just grown up in a normal home, with normal parents and normal friends, maybe things would have been different. “You need to run away, far away from here, and never come back,” had been his words to her that night before she left, the night when he had given her the revolver, which was now safely hidden inside the glovebox. “I love you, I always will,” had been his last words before the door shut in front of Brooke’s face. I love you too, she thought, but I hate what you have done to me.

  The air inside the car felt thick and heavy. After days of travel, Brooke wished she could have a bed for the night, just a normal bed. She opened her eyes and reached for her bag on the passenger seat. Inside her black, worn purse lay a five-dollar note, it was all she had left. Not enough for a motel room, not even for breakfast the next day. If there was anything she knew about the city of Whitestead, it was that it was expensive. While a standard sized coffee back home would only set her back a dollar fifty, here, it would be at least double.

  Ignoring the sharp hunger pangs, she sighed and crawled over to the backseat. There, she had a pillow and a thin blanket. She laid down in a foetal position and closed her eyes. In her dreams, she was with Luca again, and everything was back to normal.

  ***

  A loud knock on the window awakened her. The morning sun forced her to squint as she sat up on the back seat. “Open up,” a male voice said. “I need to talk to you.”

  Oh, shit, Brooke thought, rubbing her eyes, the cops. “Just a minute.”

  The man outside the window, dressed in a black suit, adjusted his red tie as Brooke stepped out of the car. His dark hair lay slick with wax, and his mouth formed a faint smile as he looked at her.

  “Come with me.” He glanced over at a black Mercedes, parked behind the Ford.

  Brook ran her fingers through her messy hair and shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere, you a cop?”

  The man folded his arms across his chest and put on a smirk. “Brooke Clarke, right? I know your partner.”

  A knot formed in Brooke’s stomach. “Who are you?” She slowly backed away from the man, hoping he wouldn't notice. She felt her heartbeat increase as a shiver ran through her spine.

  The man exposed his hands, palms facing Brooke. “I’m on your side, trust me, I just need to talk to you.”

  Brooke opened the car door; the glove box was now only an armlengths away. “You know my partner? Yeah? What’s his name?”

  “He goes by Luca Sykes.”

  “His real name, asshole.”

  “Aaron Smith, and you can call me Lee. I don’t have all day, Brooke, and you don’t need to shoot me. In fact, that would be a very bad move on your part, you wouldn’t live long enough to set foot in Whitestead.”

  Brooke glanced over at the glove box and sighed. Her heart still racing, she closed the car door and buried her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

  Nodding, she followed Lee to his car.

  ***

  A strong scent of aftershave hit her once she sat down in the passenger seat. Glancing over the dust free interior of the car, Brooke took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

  Lee adjusted his red tie again before he met Brooke’s eyes. “A long drive here.”

  Brooke grimaced. “It was.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “To stay alive.”

  He rested his hands on the steering wheel. “You did the right thing, coming here. But Whitestead is not safe for people like you. So, I have been tasked with looking after you.”

  Brooke felt her heart slow down, returning to normal. “People like me?”

  “Well.” He rubbed his finely plucked eyebrows. “It is not you, is it? It’s Aaron, or Luca. Anyway, I just wished to make my presence known. Next time you see me, don’t try and pull a gun on me, understood?”

  Brooke watched as Lee tried to smile, it didn’t work, all that came out was an unnatural, forced twitch of his lips.

  “I didn’t pull a gun on you.”

  “But you were going to.”

  “Who would be after me?”

  “The Arrows, of course.”

  Brooke bit her lower lip. “They are here as well?”

  “Of course they are, you’d have to travel across the country to get away from them. Even then, you’d never know.”

  Anger started to rise, her fingers clutched together, forming a fist. “So what am I supposed to do?”

  Lee cleared his throat and looked out the front window. “Well, nothing. Just stay out of trouble. I’ll worry about your safety.”

  “You’ll be stalking me?”

  His sudden laugh startled her. “No.”

  “Right. Can I go, then?”

  “Yes, Brooke. You are free to leave.”

  Without hesitation, Brooke exited the vehicle and jogged back to her car. Fucking Arrows, fucking Luca, fucking life. Once she settled in the front seat, she watched as Lee drove by. The grey, dusty smoke rising from the gravel on the side of the road temporarily blinded her view. Money, she thought as she placed her hand on her forehead, I should have asked for money.

  ***

  Brooke never knew hunger could be so painful. Driving through the morning mist, she entered the main strip of Whitestead, her stomach screaming for something to eat. Every sign advertising any food displayed a higher price than her meagre five-dollar note. She didn’t even feel like thinking about Lee and the strange encounter she had with him hours earlier; she just needed something to eat.

  Feeling nauseated, Brooke picked a fairly wide alley and parked her car. Taking a breath, she studied the huge waste bins lined up against the side of the buildings; the thought hit her to look for something edible. Fucking disgusting idiot, she thought as she rubbed her hands across her face, do not do that.

  Smokes and a half litre of water were all she had to try and ease the pain. With the car window rolled down, Brooke chain-smoked as she tried to figure out what to do. She pulled out her old android and scrolled through her contacts. Hovering her finger above the ‘call’ button, under Luca’s name, she swore under her breath. If she called, would he even pick up? Had he changed his number?

  She decided to take a chance. She wasn’t safe here, anyway, so what harm could it do? Luca’s plan for her to run away from danger had failed, he needed to know that.

  There was no noise for several seconds before a loud beeping sounded, and a woman calmly, and robot-like, said ‘this number is no longer in use’.

  “Fucking shit!” Brooke threw her phone on the passenger seat, watching it bounce once, then land on the dirty floor.

  Tears tried to push their way out of her eyes; she could feel her breathing intensify. She blinked a few times and wiped the moisture from her eyes. Where was her stalker when she needed him? He could buy her some food, or a motel room, even. By the look of his fancy suit, he wasn’t short on cash.

  He wasn’t going to show up, though. He could have been talking shit. What if he didn’t even know where she was at this very moment? If some crazy bastard entered the alleyway and decided to kill her, nobody would show up and save her.

  Suppressing her anger and the strong feeling of being lost and forgotten, Brooke finished the water and closed her eyes. You can’t feel hunger when you are asleep.

  ***

  Nightfall came, and so did the rain. After a couple of hours of restless sleep, Brooke stared out the window, watching the rain fall; drops slowly sliding from the roof down to the hood. It was obvious her body was shutting down; she felt sick and weak. Now and then the pain would start again, making her hug her midsection and fold her body in half.

  She glanced over at the glove box. Tomorrow wouldn’t b e any different. She couldn’t get a job; she had been advised not to give out her identity to anyone. She wondered what she had been expecting when she left, to magically have money appear in front of her? Of course not, she would die in her rusty old car.

  She opened the glove box and took out the gun. Smith & Wesson, .38. She knew how to fire it, but she was by no means a gun expert. What if Luca gave me the gun so that I could kill myself when I realised I would die anyway?

  She shook the thought away, no, if homeless people could survive on the streets, why couldn’t she? Except, the homeless were seldom being chased by some weird group of people called the Arrows.

  Tears pushed their way through her eyes. She didn’t want to live on the streets; she couldn’t imagine having to beg for money and food. This wasn’t a life she was prepared to live. As she studied the metal finish of the gun, desperation grew from somewhere deep inside of her. Tears dropped down from her nose and landed on the barrel. She would get money; she just had to make sure she couldn’t be identified and caught.

  Wiping her now wet face, Brooke reached over to the backseat and grabbed an old, black beanie. Using scissors, she carefully cut holes for her nose and eyes. She remembered passing an old gas station, situated just outside Whitestead. She decided to take matters into her own hands.

  With a deep roar, the Ford sprung to life, and Brooke reversed back through the alleyway.

  Chapter 2

  With the black mask pulled down over her face, Brooke walked with a racing heart through the doors of the gas station. The bright lights inside made her squint as she turned to look at the man behind the counter. His mouth shifted from a smile to a loud gasp as he realised what was happening. Stepping back from the counter, he leant up against the wall filled with cigarette packets and didn’t take his eyes off Brooke.

  With heavy steps and a nervous tingle running through her body, she grabbed hold of her revolver, and with shaky hands, pointed it at the man. “Hands in the air,” she said, hoping her voice came out deeper and intimidating.

  The man moved his hands up above his head as his breathing intensified.

  What’s next, Brooke thought as she approached the counter, quick!

  “The money,” she said, feeling her voice shake, “give me the money.”

  The man slowly moved up to the till, his dark eyes now focused on the gun. His white nametag fitted on his green, work suit read ‘Santos’.

  Brooke glanced around the place, making sure nobody was coming. The nerves began to cease, and she felt more in control. Just get the money and go, she repeated in her head, just get the money and go.

  Santos opened the till and pulled out notes at a rapid pace. He placed them in a mess on top of the counter, next to a row of chewing gum. Sweat dripped down his forehead. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  Brooke opened her backpack with her gloved hand and placed it under the front edge of the counter. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” she said as she scooped the money into the bag.

  Santos backed up against the wall again, hands behind his head. “That’s all I have.”

  Brooke closed the bag and backed away from the counter, still aiming the gun at Santos. Her thoughts focused on not tripping over anything on her way out, she felt her heartbeat speed up again. Just get to the car, she thought, just get out and run to the car.

  Once she left the gas station and began sprinting to her car, she wondered how the fuck she had ended up in this situation.

  Chapter 3

  After being awake for hours, Brooke picked up the phone and checked the time; 7:55 am. The cafes should be opening at eight. She placed the phone back in her pocket and opened the visor. As she studied herself in the mirror, she wondered what people would think of her dark bags and sleep filled eyes.

  She turned in her seat and reached for her backpack. Inside it lay her makeup case, there must be something there she could use. The eyeshadows had cracked, and the mascaras had gone dry. She pulled out an old foundation and applied it to her face; starting with her round nose, then streaking it across her prominent cheekbones, and all around her puffy, grey eyes.

  Better, she thought as she turned her head from side to side, the dark bags were nearly gone, a little better, at least. She removed a hair tie off her wrist and put her ash-blonde hair up in a ponytail before she exited the vehicle with the stolen money firmly tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. Her stomach was aching worse than ever before, and she couldn’t wait for a big platter of warm, cooked breakfast, accompanied with hot coffee.

  Upon exiting the alley, the morning sun slicing through the high rises forced her to squint. Men and women walked past her, wearing suits, business skirts, blazers and stockings. On their way to the office, she assumed as she scanned the area.

  The first café she saw was a small, cheery place called The Blue Espresso. The beautiful scent of freshly brewed coffee and cooked bacon greeted her as she entered. The attendant, a short, blonde girl with a ponytail, smiled at her as she approached the till.

  “What can I get for you today?” she asked, her shiny, white teeth exposed.

  Brooke thought for a minute and looked up at the blackboard on the wall. “A big breakfast special, please.”

  “Alright,” the attendant used her index finger on an iPad, putting through Brooke’s order. “That’ll be ten fifty.”

  “And a latte, please, no sugar,” she added as she reached down her pocket, pulling out a couple of notes.

  “Thank you, won’t be long.”

  Brooke chose a lone seat next to a window looking out over a park on the other side of the road. The five-minute wait was agonising but well worth it. Bacon and eggs had never tasted so good. Normally, she wouldn’t touch the crust on her toast; but now it went down easily. Once finished, a new pain emerged. It doesn’t take long for a stomach to shrink; she apparently ate too much, and too fast.

  She was leaning forward, sipping on her coffee, when she felt vibrations in her pocket. Surprised, she fished up the phone, only to be met by ‘private number’.

  “Hello?”

  “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Lee’s honeyed voice.

  “Eating breakfast.” Brooke glanced around the café, is he here?

  “Don’t play stupid. Why did you rob a gas station? Are you insane?”

  Brooke’s heartbeat sped up. “I… I needed money.”

  “Well, you could have asked. Luckily, you were never identified.”

  “Good.” A sense of relief broke up her anxious heart. “Could I have some for the future, then?”

  Lee sighed. “Once you are done at Blue Espresso, I’ll meet you at your car, in the alley.”

  “Okay.”

  “See you then.” Lee ended the call.

  Feeling confused, but relieved at the same time, Brooke finished her coffee and went back to her car.

  ***

  Just as he had said; Lee was leaning up against the Ford, dressed in a different, fancy suit. Brooke tried to smile as she approached him, she really wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

  “Grab your things out of this piece of shit, and get in my car,” Lee said walking past her.

  Without questioning, Brooke quickly shoved her blanket, pillow, gun and makeup case into her backpack and locked up the car. A shower, she thought as she walked up to the shiny Mercedes, I really need a shower.

  Without saying a word, Lee drove for a few minutes, passing the Blue Espresso, and parking outside a high-rise. On the opposite side lay an office building, probably over twenty storeys tall.

  “This is your new apartment. I’ll show you around,” he said as he put on a pair of black sunglasses and exited the vehicle.

  Brooke grabbed her bag and followed him to the high-rise. She watched as he pressed in a code to open the glass doors.

  “You bought me an apartment?” Brooke asked as they entered the grey, shiny lift.

  “Just nod and be happy.” Lee tried to smile. Brooke wondered if he was even capable of smiling, as it never seemed to work.

  “What’s the catch?”

 

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