Who Said Witness Protection Was Boring? (Mobster Mayhem #2)

1. Matthew

1

Matthew

I pull out my shotgun as soon as the game map loads up and charge at the nearest group of enemies. They drop like flies, dead before they know what hit them. Blood splatters on the lush grass surrounding the abandoned military complex we must defend.

“Oi! Shit, mate. You are on a roll,” DeeDee, who’s playing support to my damage dealer avatar, barks out in his London accent, laughing his ass off as he breaks into a sprint so he can keep up with me. “You still pissed off about the lessons?”

I groan, rolling my eyes even though I know he can’t see me. “Dude. It’s not my fault I’m short. Or that the stupid motorbike is heavy as shit.”

My game buddy laughs at my misery. I want to shout. And punch something. Preferably the idiot motorcycle instructor. If you are not up to the task of actually teaching people how to ride, maybe don’t become one?

“So, what, he just sent you home?”

I squeeze the controller, check the surroundings to make sure there are no enemies in the immediate vicinity, and make my character recharge the electro-gun. “He fucking did. What an asshole. Said there was no point in me even trying to learn and that it’s better if I stick to driving a car.”

Laughter explodes out of DeeDee. He even snorts. I answer with a full-body growl.

He makes his character raise his arms. “Ouch. Sorry. That guy’s a total twat—”

Everything suddenly goes black. I keep mashing buttons as I stare at the dark screen, but nothing happens.

“What the fuck?”

I yank my headset off, swiveling around in my creaky office chair. My entire bedroom is dark. I glance out the window. The house across the street is dark. The ones on the left and right of it as well. Those down the road, too. It seems the entire neighborhood has lost power.

“ Really ?” I groan, tossing the controller on my bed and rubbing my eyes. “Ugh. Now this shitty day can’t get any worse.”

And the game was going so well. I really needed to kick some more virtual ass since doing that in real life is not really an option. Unless I fancy jail time. Which I don’t. The instructor might have expressed his idiotic opinion that I’m too short for riding with my 5’5”, but he’s wrong. Plenty of short people ride. Plus, there are smaller bikes that are less heavy than the 450-pound monstrosity he handed me. Beginner motorcycle, my ass .

What-fucking-ever. He can suck it. Better yet, I’ll make him suck it. I’ll teach myself to ride and I’ll prove how fucking wrong he is in front of all his colleagues and students.

“Ugh!” I huff air out of my nose. Owning a motorcycle has been my dream since I was a kid. Both mom and dad were riders, so it makes sense, right?

But things don’t always go the way you think they will. One day, you come home from school and there’s no one waiting for you. I remember it so clearly, even now, ten years later. It was in October and the sun was still warm. Halloween was three weeks away. I was stoked for our weekly Pizza Night with shitty horror movies. But this one was special. Because the day after, my parents were finally going to teach me to ride.

I sat down and did my homework. Cleaned my room, too. Threw out the garbage. Then it started getting dark. Mom wasn’t picking up the phone, and dad wasn’t meant to finish work for another hour, but I tried calling him, too.

Beep, beep, beep.

Sucking in a breath, I hold on to my chair’s armrests.

Dad didn’t pick up either. I was about to go to the computer firm where mom worked when the doorbell rang. It scared the shit out of me.

“ Hey, Chrissy,” I said when I’d opened and let my aunt in. “ Do you know when mom is coming home?”

To this day, I remember the way she looked at me. It’s engraved in my mind. She was devastated, her eyes red and full of tears.

“Oh, Matty.” Chrissy hugged me, holding me so tight it made it hard to breathe. My heart started pounding, feeding off the tension in her body and the desperation in her cracked voice. My twelve-year-old self knew it then, before she’d even said it, that nothing would be the same anymore. “I’m so sorry. There has been an accident. Both Lilly and Tom were in the car when it happened—”

I close my eyes and inhale sharply, shaking off the haunting memory. Today was shit and just when I need a distraction, the stupid electricity decides to be a pain in the ass. Great, just great.

Five more minutes of darkness pass, and it becomes obvious that glaring at the eerie road outside won’t magically make the power come back. Fine—if video games are out of the picture, food it is then. I haven’t had dinner yet, and besides, I might as well start building up muscle mass, right? The hints of abs and biceps I have are clearly not enough so I can stop the bike from falling when it tips over to one side.

What can I say? Oops . But it’s on the instructor, too. He could’ve said I shouldn’t use the front brake while turning.

Imagining all the cool ways I can zoom past the wide-eyed shithead while decked out in full motorcycle gear, I head downstairs. It’s hard to see even with my phone’s flashlight, but I know the layout of my aunt’s house well enough to manage. I shoot DeeDee a message too, but it fails to send even after multiple attempts.

I peek at the service bar. It has an X. “What the…”

Navigating to my phone’s settings as I pause in the middle of the stairs, I turn my mobile data and calls off and on. That should fix things. Usually. Restarts are the magical fix for everything.

But this time, it doesn’t help.

Weird . There is a dead zone near the garden’s rear gate, but I’ve never had issues inside the house.

“Hey Chrissy,” I call out to my aunt as I enter the lounge. She and her husband have already lit up some candles, giving the space a dim and moody atmosphere. The soft pattering of the early spring rain adds to it.

“Matthew!” She whips her head around, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here ?”

Huh? I blink at her. Oh, yeah. I wasn’t supposed to be back until later. But after the shitshow at the driving school, I didn’t feel like going out drinking with the guys from college. They are all the tall, macho type and they tend to tease me about my size. I don’t mind it usually, but today I am touchy on that subject.

“I wanted to play video games.” I shrug, tucking my hands in the pockets of my baggy hoodie as I notice that all the windows have the blinds down. It’s a little unusual. “But then we lost power.” I tip my chin in the general direction of the street. “The whole neighborhood is dark, so it might take a while before we have power again. But anyway. How was your day, guys? Mine was shit.”

My aunt offers me a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She is holding a small gray box and looks spooked. Or maybe confused? Gordon is guilty of the same, his apprehensive gaze bouncing from his tablet to me and Chrissy and then to the window on the left. His eyes linger on it like it’s a monster about to swallow me whole.

I suppress a shiver. Power outages suck, but they happen here in Queens too, I guess. Not that I remember when the last one was.

I hook a finger over my shoulder. “I’m gonna make a sandwich. You guys want some?”

They look at each other and then at me, staying silent. Goosebumps cover my arms. They are being weird and it’s freaking me out a bit. It’s like I’ve walked into something I shouldn’t have and caught them red-handed.

My eyes stray to the object Chrissy is holding. I wonder what is in the box. It’s about the size of a cigarette pack, but neither she nor Gordon smokes. Whatever is inside is probably work-related then, since Chrissy is a workaholic and sometimes brings things from the office.

“So, are you hungry or not?” I pipe up as I make my way to the fridge, needing to break the terse silence. I grab peanut butter and jelly and start on my sandwich.

“No, we aren’t hungry, Matt. Thanks,” Gordon replies, his voice bleeding awkwardness.

I bite the inside of my cheek. Shit. Maybe they had plans and I ruined them by coming home earlier without letting them know. I should’ve called.

“Uh, sorry. For not calling.” I smack the second slice of bread on top of the PBJ goodness and take a bite. “I can gwo out fwor a gwhile?”

The truth is that I should’ve moved out ages ago. I almost did once, but Chrissy insisted I stayed with them. “ It makes the most sense financially. Why overpay on rent if we have plenty of space? Plus, we aren’t around most of the year, and this way we have you looking after the house .”

She made very compelling arguments. And they do travel a lot. These past couple months are probably the longest they’ve been around in ages. Usually, they are here for a month and gone for two or three because of their busy jobs.

Just as I finish my sandwich and am about to make myself scarce, glass breaks and shatters somewhere in the hallway. I pause mid-step. All three of us look at each other.

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the wind,” I comment at the same time multiple muffled thuds from upstairs reach my ears.

My hackles rise and my heart rate spikes. We live in a relatively safe part of the neighborhood, but this is still New York. Just last week there was a breaking and entering down the street.

“Chrissy, this is bad,” Gordon whispers, his fingers flying across his tablet. His face is scrunched in concentration, exasperating his worry lines. “The guy won’t get here on time.”

Wait a minute… I quickly thumb my phone and glance at the lack of signal. Does Gordon’s device have service?

My aunt’s face pales. “Shit. Code Red Molniya .”

She vaults over the couch in an impressive display of speed and agility as a string of words in a language I can’t pinpoint spill out of Gordon. A heartbeat later, her arms come around me, holding me tight in a warm embrace. She kisses the top of my head while my brain is trying its best to figure out what the hell is going on, then she lets me go. With determination in her affectionate but worried gaze, she hands me the small box.

“Matty. I need you to do something for me,” she says, wrapping my fingers around the object and herding me to the kitchen door. It leads to the side of the house, just behind the garage. This part of the yard is currently inaccessible from anywhere else because of the repairs we are doing on the shed.

My stomach twists with a really bad feeling. “Chrissy, what’s going on?”

She cradles my face as we step out into the rain, looking even sadder. “I’m sorry. There is just not enough time. They’ve found us. You need to take the box and go. It contains very important data. It mustn’t end up in the wrong hands.”

My head is spinning. Who’s found them? What important data? Adrenaline floods my system. I have no idea what is happening, but I know it’s not good.

“You need to get to the park by the community hall. The one with the playground. At the northern end, there is a row of old freestanding garages that no one uses. The fourth one is open. Hide there and wait for the call.” She hands me her phone. “They will ask you a question. You must reply with ‘ Da, objezd po Teatralnoy’ .”

I gape at her. Ob zed treat— “What?”

“ Da, objezd po Teatralnoy .” She clasps my shoulders and shakes me with urgency. “You must use this exact response and you must wait for the call. Don’t try to contact anyone. Everything depends on it.”

My mind races. Glass breaks inside the house again, this time closer. I hear Gordon grunting, then catch sight of his form as he dashes out into the hallway.

Chrissy pushes me toward the garage. “GO!”

I throw the phone and the box in my hoodie’s pocket and jump on the crate with the construction materials. I grab the course edge of the garage’s roof and grit teeth as I pull myself up. After a short struggle, I manage, panting by the time I’m on my feet. Chrissy flashes me a strained but fond smile and disappears inside, shutting the door and locking it.

For a couple loud heartbeats, I just stand there, staring at the dark house. I don’t know what’s happening, but… What if Chrissy and Gordon need my help? She told me to go, but I can’t just leave them here! At the very last, I need to call the police!

I grab my phone since I can’t use Chrissy’s, but there is still no signal. A loud bang hijacks my attention, followed by more stuff breaking inside the house.

“Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, what do I do?”

I twist my head, glaring at the pitch-black street. It’s ominous and creepy. But the neighbors are just across. Maybe they have service.

A gust of icy wind crashes into me, turning the light rain into a downpour. I’m soaked in seconds, hugging myself and shivering as I head to the side of the garage so I can jump down. As I grab the edge, a gunshot splits the air, momentarily deafening me. Glass shatters by the kitchen window, where I just was. I freeze with my heart madly beating.

“Away… far. Find—”

Wood and glass break as someone searches the space between the house and the garage. From where they are, they can’t see me. I can’t see them either.

“Clear. Check… neighbors… Can’t escape… all costs.”

My heart bangs so loudly I fear they might hear it. Fuck . Whoever the attackers are, they are looking for me! I twist my head and squint at the darkness around me. I can’t go to the neighbors anymore or I’ll get immediately caught. My only option is to get as far away from here as I can. Chrissy, Gordon, I’m sorry!

Wheezing as my adrenaline rises, I drop on the street from the garage’s roof. Behind me, I hear the telltale creak of our front gate and cold sweat covers me from head to toe. I don’t really think from that point on. I act on instinct, booking it like I’m an Olympic sprinter hellbent on winning the gold medal.

It’s okay, Matt. It’s too dark. They can’t see you. You’re fine. Just keep running.

And then it clicks as I turn left at the intersection and blurry light shines down on the wet concrete from the streetlights that are working just fine around here. Whoever attacked us caused a blackout only on our street. It wasn’t an accident.

A car turns, illuminating the entire road with its blinding headlights. Just barely on time, I duck behind some bushes, crouching low so they can obscure me. The SUV drives past slowly as flashlights search the surroundings. My stomach churns with fear and nerves, trying to evict the PBJ sandwich I ate.

Calm down, Matt. They haven’t seen you. Just stay calm and don’t make any sudden movements.

It’s easier said than done. A sudden cramp in my calf has me gritting teeth as I wait for the car to pass or for my hiding spot to be busted. I massage the area, but it does little to help. I need to stretch it. My graceless landing when I jumped from the garage’s roof must’ve been bumpier than I thought.

Fortunately, my stealthy maneuver holds, and the SUV picks up speed. I take care of my leg quickly and head to the park as per Chrissy’s instructions, while trying not to think about her and Gordon. Doing so will only aggravate me further because I might not be the brightest crayon, but I’m not na?ve. I know that armed robberies rarely end well.

I squeeze the box in my pocket as I reach the first line of trees. Why didn’t the house’s security system activate? It’s on a separate circuit, so the power outage shouldn’t have affected it. And why did both Chrissy and Gordon look so scared? I know they keep guns in the house. But Chrissy still sent me off with the box. And it did sound like there were more than a few trespassers .

I stop by a tree and glue my back to its thick trunk, trying to catch my breath. Just what is going on? Who attacked us? What is in the box that Chrissy handed me?

I’m wheezing and panting, but luckily, the ongoing rain muffles all sound. I can’t go back. It’s too dangerous. I check my phone. The signal is still dead. I can’t call for help either. Peeking around the tree, I scope the park. This part is mostly open ground and no lights. The community hall building looms at its other end, illuminated by the sickly orange of the surrounding streetlamps. I can just about spot the playground and the start of the old freestanding garages. That’s where I need to go.

A shiver rocks me, and I hug myself. My teeth clatter. I’m soaked and cold. I want to go home and take a hot shower.

Thunder roars somewhere in the distance. It’s so loud it sounds like an explosion. The three gunshots replay in my mind. I hug myself tighter and squeeze my eyes, focusing on my increasingly shallow breathing.

You can’t go back, Matt. It’s not safe. You need to go where Chrissy sent you and wait for that call.

I’ve no idea what’s going on. Tonight was supposed to be like any other gaming night. DeeDee and I would kick some ass, then I’d eat and go to bed. Not this.

I bury my face in my palms. Shit, shit, shit . I’m cold. It’s dark. I don’t know who’s after me. Chrissy and Gordon… I don’t know if they are okay. My heart sprinters into many pieces and I have to fight down the urge to scream.

Despite the rising panic, I force myself to take a deep inhale. Then I slowly exhale. I repeat that a few times, but I can’t calm down. My body is in flight-or-fight mode and standing here like a sitting duck is only exacerbating the issue. I need to do something. I need to move. But when I try to, it’s like my feet have grown roots. They don’t listen, or maybe they refuse to. I think I might be going into shock.

“No, no, no. Get your shit together!”

The bad guys will find me sooner or later. Unless I get moving, whoever attacked us at the house will come here and shoot me and I will be dead. And I really don’t want to be dead yet. I fist my hands. Why did this have to happen to us? Couldn’t the robbers pick a different house?

The whole thing replays in my mind again. I realize something as a lump forms in my throat, further obstructing air from getting to my lungs.

This didn’t feel like a simple robbery. This feels planned.

Chrissy’s phone rings, scaring me shitless. I yelp, scrambling to pull it out and silence the obnoxious ringtone. It’s so fucking loud. Shit, I hope no one heard it. Two excruciatingly long seconds of screaming my location to any enemy in the vicinity, and the undisturbed sound of rain surrounds me again. I spin in a circle, making sure no one is about to jump me as I answer the call. All I can hear is static and silence.

“Hello?” I say, blinking as water from my long-ish bangs gets in my eyes.

There is some rustling, like a person moving or adjusting the position of their mobile phone, and then a flat and slightly scrambled male voice says, “ Na Lubyanke do sikh por remont?”

What? I pinch my arm, nerves swamping my stomach. Oh, fuck, the code! My brain short-circuits, trying to remember the words Chrissy told me. I’d been practicing them for a whooping thirty seconds before shit hit the fan. There was something about objects? And treats? And it started with ‘Da Vinci’? Or was it just the ‘Da’? Fuck me , I was never good with languages.

Still, I have no choice. I’m pretty sure my life depends on this. So, summoning all the brainpower I have left, I try my best. “Uh… Da… Ob… yezed po Tea… thrall-noy?”

There is a pause. I think I can hear muffled music in the background. “ Tut bez probok, poslednie dva svetofora zeleniye. ”

My head throbs. I think my brain is about to explode. “Sorry, I don’t really understand—”

The person on the other end hangs up on me. I hold the phone in front of me and stare at it. Did he seriously do this? I’m bugging out over here and this asshole ends the call? What an absolute douchebag.

The sky rumbles again, dragging me back to the present. The thunder sounds somewhat different from the previous one, and I can sort of smell it, too. But I have no time to examine that. I step around the tree. It looks clear… until it doesn’t as a beam of light appears out of nowhere and almost blinds me.

I blink disoriented, trying to regain the ability to see. Voices shout close-by, followed by more searchlights. Uh-oh. I think I have company.

I turn on my heel and bolt, heading straight through the dark park toward the community hall with the garages. My pursuers follow. I can feel them gaining on me fast, their flashlights hovering just above me as I break into a sprint.

The grass under my feet is watery and muddy. I trip and fall and slide on my ass, but I don’t stop. I can’t afford to, or they’ll catch me. Squeezing the phone and the box, I press on. I need to get to the community hall. There, I have a higher chance of losing them. The flat, open ground here offers nowhere to hide.

Lungs and legs burning, I reach the stone wall and vault over it. I slip. Arms out, I land on my hands and manage not to actually fall. Stone and bits of asphalt dig into my palms, but I clench teeth and spring forward, keeping to the shadows.

I don’t slow down as I circle the complex via its far end. It’s not the quickest route to my destination, but there are plenty of footpaths and alleyways that weave in and out and around the buildings, giving me a higher chance of escaping my pursuers.

Five minutes later, I no longer hear their scrambled voices. I scurry out of my hiding spot by a stinky dumpster and jog around the service vans parked on the side of the supply shed. Just ahead, the garages start.

Trees line up the outer side. The inner one comprises the main building’s wall. Aside from a single lamp positioned at the halfway point, there are no other sources of illumination. Rust and graffiti characterize the garage doors, most of which have locks on them.

I begin counting, shivering and spitting rain. One. Two. A shadow passes by the tall lamp. I freeze, alarm bells ringing in my head as I squint and try to focus better. Everything is still and quiet. Undisturbed. Maybe my agitated brain imagined it.

Slowly, I take a step back. Yeah, no. I’m not about to risk it. I know Chrissy said to wait inside the fourth garage, but I’ve seen enough gory horrors to know better than to walk into dark places that are perfect for an ambush. I’ll go back around to the park on the other side and find a way to get on top of the garages. From there, I’ll have a decent vantage point.

Yeah. That’s a better plan.

The only issue with it?

I don’t quite succeed in executing it. The moment I turn around and break into a run, someone grabs me by the arm and yanks me into the shadows between two garages.