35. Haze
35
HAZE
Imry’s killed four men by the time we stop at a corner between two buildings. We’re facing the entrance to three alleys and the side of a building. He shoves Oakley and me into the corner and stands in front of us, holding up what I think might be his phone.
He holds it sideways, and the screen is filled with black and green. It reminds me of what night vision is shown to look like. The screen changes and now it’s filled with colors in strange smearing patterns.
I watch as he scans the area. When he pauses on movement and looks up from his phone, he frowns. “Don’t move,” he whispers as he pockets it.
This man somehow vanishes. He slips into the shadows and practically disappears. There aren’t any footsteps. No shuffling. There’s zero indication he’s anywhere. It’s not until I hear the very distinct sound of metal on bone, accompanied by a sickening squelch, I know he’s reemerged from the shadows.
I wince. Bile rises in my throat and my stomach churns wildly. Yep, I’m not cut out to be a murderer.
Imry reappears a minute later, popping up like a jack-in-the-box. I jump, my heart nearly slamming its way out of my chest.
“Okay,” Imry says. He reaches for our chests and pulls out what looks like goggles. I’m slightly amused when he fastens them over my head, as if I can’t do it myself.
“Cool,” Oakley murmurs, his head turning.
Once mine are firmly in place, I see what he’s referring to. Everything suddenly becomes clear. I can see details again. Yes, it’s all rather monochrome in shades of greens, black, and white, but I can see.
Which means I see the person at the edge of the building and suck in a breath.
“That’s Voss,” Imry says and my heart nearly stops in relief. “See that door?” He points and we nod. “That’s where we’re going. Do not shoot anyone coming out unless you can see clearly that it’s not one of us. Understand?”
“Yes,” I confirm.
“I don’t want to put this kind of pressure on you, but if you see someone heading for the door to enter the building, if you’re comfortable doing so , feel free to shoot them. I promise you, no one entering that building is a good person.”
What does that say about Imry and Voss, who are about to enter the building?
“If you’re not comfortable shooting them, that’s okay. It’s not fair of me to ask you to. We’ll deal with them,” Imry says.
I swallow while Oakley nods.
“Remember what I said. They won’t hesitate to kill you. Your sole priority right now is staying alive by whatever means. Understand?”
We nod.
Imry holds my gaze for a minute. Okay, I imagine that’s what he’s doing, though he can’t see through my goggles. Wait—can he?
“Stay in this corner. Keep your back to the wall. No one can sneak up on you, so just look outward. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
Imry turns and, once again, disappears into the shadows. A minute later, I see his shape emerge beside Voss. They remain where they are for several minutes, and then they walk toward the door.
My heart races as I watch them stop at the door. Seconds pass, and they get the door open. Silence follows as they walk into the darkness within, the door closing behind them.
Leaving me and Oakley lurking in the shadows.
“This is terrifying,” Oakley whispers as he looks around.
I nod. He’s not wrong. I’m scared out of my fucking mind. Strangely enough, I’m not sure if I’m more scared for Imry inside that building or myself.
Nothing happens for several minutes. The minutes seem long. As if each second drags to the length of what would typically be five or six seconds. There’s no sound. Nothing moving, except the moon overhead.
Part of me wants to take out my phone to see what time it is, but I know I can’t do that. Imry said no phones.
“Look,” Oakley whispers urgently.
I look at him to see where he’s looking. He’s looking to the side. It takes me a minute, but I see the figure coming this way. We’re motionless as we stare. The closer the man gets, the harder my heart slams into my sternum.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
As he nears, the shape of the large rifle in his hands becomes clear. He’s heading for the building. I swallow the lump in my throat.
Oakley shifts slowly, bringing his gun up. My stare moves between Oakley and the man walking. I wonder if we’re truly hidden in shadow or if the man simply isn’t expecting anyone, so he doesn’t look.
I hear the quiet click as Oakley shifts the safety off. His body inflates as he takes a breath and then deflates slowly.
The shot makes a quiet ‘ ptew ’ and though the sound is so much quieter than I expected would come from a gun of that size, I jump at the sound. I can tell it hits the man because his body jerks. He falls to his knees and then crumples to the ground.
Seconds pass as we watch for movement.
“I just killed a man,” Oakley says.
I swallow again. This time I’m swallowing bile, so I don’t throw up.
“Are we supposed to leave his body there? I feel like if someone comes along and sees it, they’re going to raise the alarm,” he says.
Oh god.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
He looks around. After a minute of thorough examination of the area, he sets his gun down. “I feel like I’m playing a video game when I say this, but cover me. I’m going to move his body.”
I nod, and, if it were possible, my fear spikes even more.
Unlike Imry, Oakley doesn’t vanish into the shadows. I very clearly track his progress across the open area and watch as he struggles to move the body. He manages, though he’s not as quiet as he needs to be. Finally, he returns with a heavy sigh.
“Dead bodies are heavy. I now understand the term dead weight.”
I’m pretty sure it’s hysteria that makes me want to laugh far louder than his comment warrants. The urge passes when what is very clearly footsteps echo from the alleyway to our left. We can’t see in that direction, but they’re moving rapidly.
Oh god fucking shit balls. Oakley can’t kill them all. That’s not possible. I can’t tell how many people are moving this way, but there’s at least three. I think.
You can’t panic and freeze , I insist internally. I really don’t want to die, so that chant keeps running through my head as I stare in the direction that the footsteps are coming from.
Oakley already has his gun up. I take my cue from him and aim in that direction. If we each manage one right off the bat, then maybe we have a chance.
The seconds tick by as the footsteps get louder and closer. The sounds are almost drowned out by the pulse of my blood in my ears.
Their shapes come into view and Oakley immediately shoots. I don’t know if he’s some prodigy with a fucking gun or it’s just luck, but he hits his target. I quickly pull my trigger too, but it doesn’t move.
Because my safety is on. Fuck.
I click it off as Oakley shoots again. He misses this time. I hear the bullet hit the brick wall behind the men. They’re shuffling around now, their voices loud in the silent space. I jerk when I hear one of their guns go off. The bullet whizzes by my head and embeds into the brick wall behind me.
I finally manage to take a shot. I don’t know where it goes. I don’t bother trying to aim carefully and just keep my gun pointed in their direction as I pull the trigger over and over.
They close the distance between us, despite us shooting at them. In the chaos and fear, I don’t know how many there are. One of them grabs for Oakley, and he’s hauled to his feet. I continue to shoot until my magazine is empty.
Fuck.
Oakley’s struggling with this man as I fumble to get more bullets into my gun. As I do, I realize no one else is there. We’ve managed to kill them all.
“Stab him,” I hiss.
The man screams, and Oakley jerks away. He stumbles backwards just as I get the new magazine loaded. I get to my feet and point the gun at the man’s head. Oakley’s already buried his knife into the man’s eye.
Closing my eyes, I shoot. The man’s screaming stops.
I can still hear their gunshots echoing around me. We huddle together, shoulder to shoulder, as we look at the bodies on the ground before us. We’re panting.
“I’m going to throw up,” Oakley says.
“Don’t,” I choke out. “I think they can get your DNA from that.”
He whimpers a little. “I need to get that knife back, don’t I? It must have someone’s fingerprints.”
Oh, my fucking god! I nod. It’s a serious struggle to keep the bile down at this point. We should have been left with vomit bags.
Oakley crawls forward and grips the knife embedded into the man’s eye socket. It comes out with a squelch that makes my stomach roll violently. He comes back, slamming his back against the wall and gagging.
“This is the most traumatizing day of my life,” he mutters, “and that includes the day a serial killer tried to murder me.”
Once again, hysterical laughter fills my chest.
Oakley reaches forward and wipes the blade on the man’s pant leg before sticking it back in the holder on his forearm. “I’m going to dream about this,” he hisses as he picks up his gun and retakes his job of monitoring the area.
Thankfully, we’re surrounded by silence for quite a while. No one comes. No one leaves the building. No one goes into the building. We’re entirely alone.
But the longer the silence stretches without Imry and Voss coming out, the more fear fills me. What if they don’t come out? How long do we wait here in the shadows until we know that they’re not coming out? What if they were captured, too?
What if they’re dead?
Are we supposed to wait until morning when we’re completely exposed by daylight? It’ll be too late then.
Just as one terrible thought fills my head after the next, the building where Voss and Imry are gives a violent shudder. An alarm goes off inside before it’s quickly shut down. Then there’s silence again.
“What does that mean?” Oakley whispers.
I shake my head as I stare at the building. Minutes pass. The moon moves in the sky. Oakley shoots another man who comes into view from the alley ahead of us. This time, he leaves the body where it is.
We both jump when a window blows out of the building we’re watching. There’s chaos inside. I can hear the loud tat-tat-tat-tat of gunfire. I jerk backwards when something massive hits the side of the wall from the inside, sending bricks spraying out like a popped water balloon.
I can barely breathe as I stare, wishing that these night vision goggles allowed me to see through brick walls.
The door suddenly bursts open. Oakley and I spring to our feet as we raise our guns, but I recognize Voss right away. He has the hand of a girl in his as he drags her out. Imry’s right behind them.
I grip Oakley’s arm and pull him toward Imry, who’s slowed down for us. Once we catch up, we’re sprinting through the alley straight ahead.
“Hurry,” Imry says, urging us along. “Faster. We’re almost out of time.”
My fear of what his words could mean has me sprinting as fast as I can go. Voss and the girl I assume is Lorissa loom just ahead of us. We follow their path. I’m about to question whether they know where we’re going when we stumble into the alley where we’ve parked the car.
The lights blink as Imry unlocks the doors, and everyone climbs in. This time, Imry’s in the driver’s seat. He starts the engine and shifts us into reverse. Just as we’re pulling out of the alley, an explosion rocks the neighborhood.
It’s so forceful that it rocks the car. Lorissa screams. I’m gripping the oh-shit handle with every ounce of strength I can. Imry drives down random roads before pulling into a driveway in the suburbs. As soon as the engine is silent and the lights turn off, the world around us sounds like it’s being bombed.
Explosions in the distances make the earth shudder. I rip my goggles off and stare into the dark night. It’s lit by the artificial lights of the city. Those lights turn orange as fire begins to rise in the distance.
New York has burned down several times. As a historian looking for something interesting to research over the last few months, I know that one of those times was in 1845 and began at the J.L. Van Doren Oil Merchant and Stearin Candle Manufacturer building. Why do I remember this right now? Because once more, we’re going to see New York City burn, and it begins with a Van Doren.
Oakley’s right. I’m going to have nightmares about tonight for the rest of my life.