Too long. His gaze was fixed on the peephole, and for a sickening breath I wondered if he could see me through it. A closer look at his expression, however, told me he wasn’t looking. He was listening.
I was almost sure he could hear my heart pounding, locked in a face-off he didn’t even know we were having. I studied him as we stood there, my focus on his eyes and the jarring stare that had caught me from below—deep blue and shot with streaks of silver, just enough to catch the light. Intense was the first word that came to mind, and not just because of the color. It was the man, the force of personality that shone through and made me shiver. I forced my attention elsewhere, over a strong jawline and a mouth that looked like it was meant to smile but had long since forgotten how. Clean-cut, though his light-brown hair was mussed, as if he’d taken the time to style it in the morning and hadn’t bothered with it since.
He startled me again when he moved without warning, backing away from my door to glance up and down the hallway once more. I waited for him to leave, but he stood for a breath longer—then pulled something from his jacket and stepped forward, vanishing from view. A moment later, a business card slid beneath the door to settle between my feet and I caught one last look at him before he moved back down the stairs and disappeared.
I waited out several long breaths before daring to move, bending slowly to pick up the card. The front was simple, only the badge symbol for the Industry City police department and his information. Ethan Hayes, Detective. I stared at it a long moment before absently turning it in my fingers, my mouth going dry at the words scribbled on the back.
Call me, Avery.
I dropped the card and stepped back, shaking my head in silent horror. I’d spent two weeks on the road, crossed multiple state lines, and I still couldn’t escape. I’d given my name to two people since I’d arrived—Gina and Connie. I’d introduced myself to Connie without a thought that she’d remember. Obviously, I’d been wrong.
I left the card where it lay and returned to the pile of supplies Gina had given me, determined to put it all out of my mind. No matter if the detective knew my name, I still had nowhere to go and no way to get there even if I did. Like it or not, I was staying in Industry City for at least another week. I pulled the bucket of cleaning supplies from the pile and marched straight into the bathroom—I desperately needed a shower, but I wasn’t stepping foot in that tub without bleaching it first.
The bathroom was, like the rest of the apartment, tiny, but had somehow escaped most of the wear and tear. With light blue tile and cream-turned-yellow paint, it obviously hadn’t been updated since the building was born, and I smiled despite myself at the old top-tank toilet with a pull-string flush.
I started with the tub, scrubbing it with a single-minded focus that wiped all other worry from my mind. It was a simple task: take something dirty and make it new again. I liked cleaning for that reason; it gave me something to lose myself in, to find hope in—like scouring a bathtub would wash the stains from me as well.
It wasn’t working this time, though. No matter how hard I scrubbed I couldn’t push the memory of 9B from my mind. I was afraid I’d never get it out of my head. He hadn’t seemed like a particularly good person, but that didn’t mean he deserved to drop nine stories onto broken tile. It was a pretty shitty place to die, too. His ghost was probably pissed. Although if any place was haunted by disgruntled spirits it would be this apartment building, so maybe he’d feel right at home. I moved from the bathtub to the sink, sure that I was going to run out of cleaning supplies by the time the night was over, but I didn’t stop. The mark on my shoulder was aching and I was sweating by the time I’d finished in the bathroom, my fingers pruned and my clothes bleach-spotted, but when even the walls were wiped down I stepped out, exhausted and still uneasy.
Gina’s apartment stayed on my mind when I moved into the kitchen and started again, scouring everything until my arms ached. Only then did I give it up for a shower which, to my surprise, stayed hot the whole way through. I dried off with a borrowed towel and re-dressed in the clothes I’d been wearing, then made up a makeshift bed on the scorched kitchen floor with Gina’s blankets—the cleanest place I could find to lay down outside of the tub.
I had no idea what time it was, save for the dark outside the window. There was no sound of movement from upstairs or in the hall, and I took little comfort in the locked door that stood between me and the outside world, since apparently anyone in the building could open it. The old, scorched linoleum was cold and hard, and I padded myself with the extra layer of my new jacket before laying down, wishing for the cushioned back seat of my car before remembering the look on Gina’s face when I’d told her I’d slept there. I flipped from my side to my back, staring up at the ceiling and feeling like I was skirting on the edge of something very dangerous. I’d had no plans to stop in Industry City before my car broke down. I didn’t even know it existed—just a dot on a map, the kind of place where you’d push the needle past E to avoid stopping for gas. I’d been here only two days, but I couldn’t shake the thought that something was very wrong with this place and the people who lived here.
I just wasn’t sure what.
There was an odd scraping sound that filtered through the haze, a familiarity about it that demanded explanation. I focused on the noise and the space around me slowly came into view, finding myself standing at the twisted and broken railing in the hall. I was poised on the very edge, hands stuffed inside the pockets of my jacket and rocking back and forth on the soles of my shoes, staring nine stories down to the floor below. The chalk outline of the body was gone, replaced instead by a large red circle painted on the tile. A target, I realized after a moment. For when I jumped.
The sound came again, forcing my gaze up from the ground and I followed the source to the figure leaning against the wall. There was the glint of a silver lighter in his hand, the wheel scraping along the flint, flame springing to life for a brief instant, illuminating the darkness around us before it went out.
What are you doing here? I tried to form the words, but they wouldn’t come. My lips were locked together, my tongue lifeless. There was a dull throbbing in my left shoulder and the odd sensation of something pulling me. I rocked forward, and the lighter flashed again, drawing me back.
Just being neighborly.
I saw the gleam of his teeth in the dark, his easy smile flashing into life with the next flick of his lighter. Dark green eyes glowed out at me, calling to me, pulling me away from the edge. I stumbled back a step, then another—moving towards him until the flame went out and the darkness surrounded me again.
Help. Fear snaked through me, coiling cold as ice in my stomach. I pulled my hands from my pockets, reaching out into the nothing to find him again. I could make no sound, the words panicked inside my mind. Please help me.
The light flashed on again, closer this time. I could see him clearly, the strong lines of his jaw covered in a careless stubble of beard. The tumble of dark hair into eyes that locked onto mine. You want my help?
The light went out again, the darkness pressing back in the moment it was gone, dragging me down into its void. Alone. I was alone. Pain flared in my shoulder, white hot, agonizing, like I was being burned again, this time to the bone. YES. I screamed the word, my voice echoing soundlessly again and again. YES, PLEASE HELP ME.
The light did not come on.
Bad shit is coming. You need to be strong.
I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t anything. I stumbled forward, reaching for him—
“Avery!”
I jerked awake with a gasp, hand flying to the sharp pain in my shoulder that throbbed unbearably before suddenly vanishing, leaving only the familiar soreness of the mark beneath my fingers. Confusion took hold as I blinked through the daylight pouring through the single window, heart pounding when I looked around the apartment. Empty, though someone was hammering on the door.
“Avery, open the damn door!”
I recognized Gina�
�s voice and scrambled to my feet, stumbling through the blankets to pull the door open without bothering to look through the peephole first, then stood stupidly blinking at the scene before me.
“Surprise,” Gina grinned, motioning with her free hand to the crowd of people standing around her. The other hand held a paper cup of coffee, which she pushed at me as she stepped forward, ushering me out of the way before the crowd began to flood in. “We come bearing gifts!”
“What? Wait—” I started, but she only backed me against the wall as furniture began to appear, and I watched with my mouth hanging open as a small round table and two chairs walked by, followed by a twin-sized mattress and frame.
“We thought you might need a few things,” she shrugged when I turned my stare onto her, “My family lives nearby, it wasn’t a big deal to ask for extras.”
Tears welled suddenly in my eyes, and I looked down quickly to the cup in my hand to hide them—only looking up when cursing from the doorway brought my attention onto two men who were arguing in Spanish over the fit of a faded armchair through the opening.
“¿Qué te pasa, cabrón? Lift!” The one nearest me growled, paint peeling from the frame when they wedged the chair through and dropped it in the middle of the living room.
“Nine fucking floors,” he told Gina, stretching his shoulders back before his gaze slid to me and he smiled. “Alejandro,” he told me, holding out a hand. Beside me, Gina rolled her eyes.
“Alex, stop trying to impress the white girl. This is my brother,” she said almost apologetically.
He smirked at her words without taking his attention from me, his grip on my hand easy and he held on a bit longer than I expected before letting go, though I found I didn’t really mind. He had black hair that was longer than his sister’s but waxed and combed back in thick waves. Tattoos covered his arms and chest, clearly visible beneath the crisp white of his wife-beater tank that was tucked into khaki pants. He was the kind of handsome that radiated cockiness, though there was a kindness in his eyes to match Gina’s that I responded to.
“So, this is Avery,” he said, finally glancing at his sister, “You were right, she’s gorgeous.”
“Alex!” Gina gave him a hard shot to the arm, her cheeks immediately coloring, “Shut the hell up.”
“What?” He laughed, dodging another blow when it was clear he wasn’t going to stop talking, “You think I’d carry that fucking chair up nine floors for anyone else but the girl you called me three times about? I had to see for myself.”
My gaze moved between them, feeling the heat in my cheeks at their words and I raised the cup of coffee to my lips to cover my embarrassment. It was sweeter than I usually took it and too hot to gulp, but I drank it fast anyway as I watched him over the plastic top.
“Gina,” a woman called from across the room where the rest of the crowd was setting up the bedframe, “Come here, mija.”
“My mom,” Gina muttered, seeming happy to escape, and she hurried away—leaving me with her brother.
“Thank you,” I told Alex awkwardly, “For all this. And the chair. I didn’t ask—”
“I know,” he cut me off with a wave of his hand, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Use it all for as long as you need it, this shit isn’t doing any good sitting in storage, you know?”
I nodded and raised my cup again, finding my gaze trailing down the tattoos on his arms, where guns, skulls and roses collided with graffitied words in Spanish. I didn’t recognize any of them, and I glanced up to find him watching me in amusement. I felt tongue-tied and stupid under his gaze, wondering distractedly what my hair looked like after a night on the floor.
“So…” Across the room an argument had sprung up around the assembly of the bed frame which Alex ignored, shifting instead to lean against the wall next to me. “Gina was telling me your car broke down outside of town. By the Civic factory.”
Something in his tone made me glance up sharply, but his expression was neutral. “Yeah,” I shrugged, “Someone told me I threw a rod, whatever that means.”
“Means you’re probably fucked,” Alex chuckled, “Might as well send it in for scrap unless you want to drop in a new engine. They’ll tow it, though, if you leave it there much longer.”
A pained expression crossed my face. I’d been worried about that since the moment the car had rolled to a stop in the parking lot. “How long do you think I have? My stuff is in it.”
“No telling,” he shrugged, though his gaze grew serious and he shifted slightly closer, “But if you want your shit, get it soon and then stay the hell away from there. That’s not a place you want to be. Ever.”
“Why?” I asked him, “What’s so bad about—”
“Alejandro,” his mother called.
Alex kept his eyes on me, holding up a ‘wait’ finger in her direction.
“Alejandro Martinez!”
He straightened up at that, laughter written across his face. “Vengo, ya voy,” he told her, dropping me a wink before moving to her side. I stared after him a moment before trailing after, standing uncomfortably to the side as she rapped out instructions in Spanish. The bed had been assembled and made, the table and chairs positioned next to the kitchen and the arm chair tucked cozily next to the window with the seat piled with more towels, sheets and blankets than one person could ever need. There was also a small side table with an old radio and a microwave sitting on the counter in the kitchen.
“Avery,” Gina motioned me over to shake hands with her mother. The older woman was shorter than both her children, soft in the middle and a face that was weathered, telling a story of struggle and strength without ever saying a word. Her palms were work-hardened, and when she took both of my hands in hers she didn’t let go—instead she ran a sharp, knowing gaze over me.
“Avery,” her mother repeated. She still held my hands captive and I didn’t dare pull them away, only worked up a nervous smile and nodded. “I am Maria.” Her accent was heavy, and I had a feeling she didn’t bother much with English.
“Thank you, Maria, for your help.” Her thumbs were passing lightly across my palms, each roughened pass causing a strange shiver to run through me. She hadn’t looked away from me, and my smile faded when her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed.
“Be careful, Avery. I see darkness around you. Evil.”
“Um. What?” My gaze darted to Gina, who rolled her eyes again and sighed.
“Mom,” she said, reaching to try and untangle my hands from Maria’s, “You can’t say shit like that. You’re going to freak her out.”
“Do not tell me what I can say, mija,” Maria snapped, her fingers tightening in a death grip on mine. “I see it. I can feel it. She is marked.”
“I’m marked?” My voice was higher than normal, and I tugged for my hands back, Maria managing to hold on despite both mine and Gina’s efforts. Gina finally disengaged her mother, yet held onto my hands a moment more, turning them over with a sharp gaze.
“Her nails are deadly,” Gina told me, letting go with a smile, though I caught an odd look of concern that she shot in Alex’s direction.
“You must be careful,” Maria repeated, reaching up to pat my cheek with a smile. “And you are too skinny. Come to my house, I will give you tamales.”
“I…” Words failed me on every level. Beside his mother, Alex was laughing.
“Asshole,” Gina muttered, then quickly introduced me to the remaining three men who had moved off to the side once Maria stepped forward. They were uncles, and none of them spoke English, though they all smiled sweetly and nodded when I thanked them.
And then, just as quickly as they’d appeared, Maria, the uncles and Gina were all headed out the door. Gina called goodbyes as they moved into the hall, their rapid-fire conversation echoing through the stairwell. Alex loitered behind, standing in the doorway when they went—my stomach doing a small flip when he stepped backwards into the apartment and turned towards me with a lazy smile.
“Can�
�t get rid of me that easy,” He stepped past me to the small radio, playing with the dials until rock music began playing from the tiny speakers.
“Your family is really nice,” I stayed where I was in the middle of the room, watching him. “I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”
“It’s nothing.” His focus was on the radio, “Gina told me last night you were kind of stuck, so I made some phone calls. Couldn’t let you sleep on the floor.” He turned to look at me. “You going out to the factory today?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “I have to. I didn’t bring anything with me.”
He frowned slightly. “That’s a long walk.”
I waited for him to offer me a ride, but he didn’t, and I cleared my throat at the end of an awkward pause, realizing I was assuming he even had a car. “It’s not that far,” I told him, “I walked it yesterday and I don’t have much.”
“Right.” His frown deepened. He stepped towards me, only stopping when he was close enough to reach for my hands. I didn’t resist when his fingers circled my wrists lightly and he raised them up, looking them over the same way Gina had, though he didn’t pull away after. “Let me give you some advice.” His tone was serious, and his dark eyes were locked onto mine. “There are bad people in this city. Don’t trust anyone.”
“Even you? “
He gave me a slow smile that sent butterflies ricocheting around my stomach, and he seemed about to say something more when Maria started shouting his name in the stairwell, followed by a lot of angrily spoken words in Spanish. He sighed, then let me go with a grin. “Gotta go. I’m their ride.”
Into Dust: The Industry City Trilogy - Book One Page 3
