•James Beaufort•

•Present•

The Deputy Chief, Winston, a friend of Kenji struts out of her car, her blonde hair combed back in a high ponytail, dressed in jeans and a black jacket pauses right in front of us while my car is being pumped with gas.

She's as tall as us and probably has a few more inches on us. Grinning at Kenji, she shakes her hands with him, greeting him as Alistair and Tristan stand next to me. "You missed my wedding, jackass," she tells him.

"Berlin was too close for me. You should've tied the knot on Mars," Kenji wishes to retreat his hand but Winston won't let him as she tightens her hold. "Anyway, I hope I didn't interrupt your honeymoon."

She finally let go of his hand. "Don't miss this year's Thanksgiving. My wife has some earfuls of curses ready with the main course. And no your excuses of back-to-back dispositions will be tolerated this time."

"Thanks for the invitation months before," he says, laughing nervously. "I'll pray to god to keep me busy that day so I won't have to spend my night trying to turn the fire alarm off. Your turkey sucks."

Winston rolls her eyes, balling her fist but holds back from striking him. "Anyway, you said it was urgent." she reminds us. "Tell me why we are in the middle of nowhere in the middle of fucking night."

We all stand at a self-serve gas station, Kenji shifts his glance at me before he recounts the more important details of our emergency needs, emphasizing to carry it off the books.

Winston keeps a threaded and guarded look on her face the whole time, constantly flicking her eyes back and forth at the rest of us. At last, she speaks. "Okay, I can possibly do that," she nods her head. "However, I'll need a few of me to stand on guard. Abandoned mills and buildings are full of served criminals. We get so many calls from the locals. And if you say the person who you just mentioned is here, it doesn't sound good to me."

"That's why we all are here," I say, sounding desperate and a little distracted by the prolonged conversation. Every second that passes, it's another second of torture for Nora.

She studies me. "You're on edge," she implies.

"Given the circumstances, I can't help it," I say although a calmer mind is what I need more.

"Okay guys," Kenji cuts in. "We all need our head in the game. Chill the fuck down, and James especially you," he tells me and then faces his friend.

Winston puts her hands on her hips. "If I feel that things are going downhill, I'll call for backup."

I have no problem with that and accept her terms without any further arguments so we all hurry for our destination. In the peak of the night, eerily calm winds flap around us, and the distant echoes of ocean waves soar around. Winston and my car halts a good hundred meters away from the old Godfrey factory and killing the engines, we all hoard out.

The factory, as same as the satellite images we saw earlier, stands several feet taller than us, a small light bulb lighting the whole vicinity dimly. The half-moon shines over our heads, providing us with enough illumination for guidance. We step closer to it, the sand beneath us sinking with our feet as the walls of the building in front of us seem to be stretching even more, occupying everything around it. There's a wide opening in the middle of the building—now currently a pit filled with filthy water whilst the whole construction is done around it.

Winston's on the lead already, brisking cautiously, throwing eyes at every snap of twig or whip of air. Her right hand is tugging at the corner of her jacket where her gun is tucked in my opinion while her left hand holds the phone as she flashes the bright screen instead of the torch on the ground that is marked with several shoeprints.

"These are not old," she remarks. "And they belong to more than five people."

"I think you have established that already," Alistair mutters in a calm tone, looking alert.

"We must split," she announces. "Let's avoid whoever's inside until we get the girl. Keep your phone close and keep checking if case any one of us finds her first."

"Easy for you to say 'cause you have a gun," Kenji says lightly.

"You should've told me this is what we're getting into," she answers him.

Alistair clears his throat. "Good for us, I brought a few things."

We stare at him in surprise as he reaches inside every pocket of his jeans and jacket and fishes out several things. "Tasers," he says, handing out to us. Before we think he's done with it, he manages to pull out four pocket knives as well, probably new as they shine brightly in the moonlight. "That's all I got in the last minute," he informs us.

I pocket my knife when Winston slaps his shoulder. "You're coming with me," she says. "The rest of you go to the left side. We'll take right to another part of the factory."

As planned we depart, giving each other an encouraging nod after Winston walks us through several cautions. We all hop over the boundary instead of disturbing the screeching iron gates that can wake even the dead.

The factory is torn down, decaying even, green moss overrunning the walls, the tall reeds occupying any inch of mud they could find to flourish. Thankfully, the main door creaks a little less than we expected, and any remnant of alerting sound is drowned further by music playing somewhere.

We all exchange looks in assurance that this place indeed has more than people we've thought of. Most of the light is either dead or barely holding any life, making it almost impossible to navigate.

Passing each other an approving look, I leave and grab the stairs along with Kenji and Tristan while Alistair and Winston stay to check the same room and eventually the other part of the building that extends to the first floor itself, to the other side, across the pit.

Keeping our steps on mute, the music sounds clear and nearer. The first floor is lit a little more but I notice a pattern they are nowhere found near the windows which I assume to avoid anyone's attention from the outside.

There are too many rooms, more like compartments, and most of them are filled with leftover boxes now sitting under heavy dust that it's hard to tell what could be inside them. We spare glances here and there until the music becomes too prominent and clear that we're close to some people.

The next room, not doorless but half eaten by bugs has proper lighting, seeming a little more alive than others. Around two dozen beer bottles, butts of cigarette, and scratched credit cards huddle around the filthy untidy mattress, four men plopped on them, one drunk and sleeping and three playing cards, sipping the leftover beer they have next to them, slurring their next moves.

Kenji's hand presses on my shoulder and I don't turn to confirm that we need to keep moving.

A loud metallic crunch shakes the entire hallway and surrounding room. Before the guy's neck can turn to see us, all three of us bolt.

"Hey!" We heard a voice coming.

"I'm sorry," Tristan says. "I didn't see the can right next to me."

We run in the hallway and since I'm ahead, a stone staircase between two walls grabs my eyes and I step on it when I hear a screaming. "I see two of them."

"Go hide," Kenji says in my direction and they both keep running down the hallway, stomping their feet too loud as I ascend up, hiding my footfalls with theirs. Turning to another flight of stairs, I stop to catch my breath, not going further.

"Check if anyone went up there," a deep voice booms all the way to me and I straighten, training my ears at any advancing danger. Only a set of footsteps seems toward me.

My hands reach into my pocket and hold the Taser. Whipping it out, I count every calculating step my attacker takes. He's either not in a hurry or just as ready as me in case he's the one getting knocked down in pitch-black space.

I think my breath goes on hold when a blacker shadow falls on the stairs. The first person to attack is me the second he turns towards the stairs I'm hiding. I whirl my arm at him, making him tumble a step back, my taser alive against his skin, and a buzz echoes slightly.

He limps against my hold against the wall and without a word, he goes down, parked at a corner like his drunk friend downstairs in the room. Having no time to think if Kenji and Tristan successfully distracted the rest of them, I finish climbing the rest of the stairs and arrive in the hallway, finding the same bundled compartmentalized rooms.

A ray of yellow light falls on the ground when a door on the other side of the hallway opens and I hide in the darkest corner before the man appears, his head turning in every direction.

The scientist.

I tighten my taser but then my gaze brushes past his shoulder to the half-open room, and I see a head of brown hair slumping around the face wearing the same black t-shirt, and a pair of hands tied at the back of the chair.

Nora. Rage explodes within me.

..........

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