04-14-2010

Start Fiction:

"Perhaps," Henry said. "But, I'll let you think what you want." He stood up and moved to the doorway. Leaning up against the jamb, he lit a cigarette, blowing his first drag into the hallway.

Jenny remained still, sitting against the wall. She watched Henry in her peripheral vision; her imagination getting the best of, for the moment anyway. While she had only known Henry for a short time, she felt there wasn't too much mystery to the man; definitely no myth. Or was there? When did he start smoking?

"We'll need to move soon," he said. Stomping out his cigarette on the concrete floor. He walked across the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator from the wall, stepping behind it. Jenny heard some shuffling, a thud; then a series of clicks and snaps. She had heard those noises before, no doubt.

Henry stepped out from behind the refrigerator with a nine millimeter pistol in each hand, and at least one more tucked in his pants. He looked surprisingly normal, natural, holding the guns. Jenny slowly slid up the wall, her eyes set on Henry's. She wasn't scared, but strangely excited.

"Ready?" he said, handing her one of the guns.

"I..I don't understand," Jenny said. She stared at the gun she held with both hands. "I...I don't think I can so this."

Henry's head snapped with the faint sound of car doors. "Sloppy," he said as he took Jenny by the arm and led her out into the hallway, closing and locking the door. She didn't fight his lead, somewhat dazed, yet in awe; apparently there was untold mystery surrounding Henry.

They made their way down the hallway towards the rear of the complex. Stopping at the utility closet, Henry placed his hand on the center of the door; several beeps sounded and the door unlocked. Freaking awesome, Jenny thought, quickly following Henry into what she thought was merely a closet; far from it. He flicked a switch and a descending hallway illuminated in front of them. It was a passage way, a safe route out of the building.

"Who are you?" Jenny whispered. Henry gave her a quick glance, saying nothing. "If we live, you have to tell me." Gripping the gun tighter, Jenny followed him close, slightly tugging on his jacket.

"I can't make that promise," Henry said, then stopped and turned to Jenny. "To tell you," he started, "I mean I can't promise that, but you will live, no question." His eyes shone in the dimly light passage, a brief smile, then back to business. Turning his focus down the passage, Henry stuck in an earpiece.

"Support, cat up a tree in need of assistance," Henry said. His pace increased. Jenny heard her apartment door being kicked in behind her, beyond the 'utility' door, she whipped around pointing her gun at the door, readying her weapon with both hands. This was no game, and apparently, she was ready.


End Fiction.