Web of Lies

by Elizabeth Knox

  “Alanna!” Peck yelled. He watched with wide eyes as Alanna broke off into a run, curling fast around the corner of Rugger Avenue. When Alanna didn’t look back, Peck cried out again, “LANA!!!!!”

  He revved his engine once more, and just as he was about to tear off down the Avenue, the passenger side door of Luca’s car swung open. Dressed in a pristine white suit, Luca stepped out of the car. Unfolding himself to his full height, Luca cast a glare Peck’s way. Luca’s car door blocked Peck’s path to Alanna.

  “Get out of the way!” Peck demanded, but once again, Luca stood in between him and Alanna, preventing him from getting to her. “Get the FUCK out of my way!”

  Luca smiled darkly at Peck. “You’re brazen enough to show your face around here after you shot at me . . .”

  Peck licked his lips as he glared at Luca’s face. “Should’ve shot you in the fuckin’ head!”

  Luca spread his arms wide as a brilliant smile broke upon his face. Turning around in the street, Luca left himself wide open.

  “Well,” Luca shouted. “Here’s your chance!”

  Peck peered at Luca with a hungry expression in his eyes. Slyly, he tugged his gun out of his waistband and he raised it. Sliding the safety off, Peck pointed the gun directly at Luca’s head.

  “Go on,” Luca urged him. “Or don’t you have the balls?”

  Peck smirked, “Oh, there was never a question of that.”

  Just as the last word rolled off of his tongue, Peck placed his finger on the trigger.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Both Luca and Peck stared at each other with shock. Three shots were fired, but they weren’t released from Peck’s gun. The bullets hadn’t hit Luca, either. Instead, the shots rang out from just thirty feet away, just around the corner of Rugger Avenue.

  “Alanna!” Peck screamed out.

  Luca smirked, as he peered over his shoulder. “Guess Angel had to quiet her down,” Luca said coldly.

  “ALANNA!!!!!!!” Peck screamed out. Then, turning to face Luca once more, Peck raised his gun and shot upon Luca once, but missed. Luca ran around his car, avoiding the shot. Michael rose out of the car and began firing upon Peck. He was unsuccessful in his attempt to take him down, though. Torian and Von emerged from the pick-up and began firing upon Luca’s car. The front door of the house barged open as seven more guys came out and began to fire upon the pick-up truck.

  “C’mon Peck!” Torian called as he pulled him behind the truck.

  “I gotta get to her! There were shots fired! I gotta get to her!” Peck said frantically.

  “You ain’t getting over there without getting shot! Be chill!” Torian spat.

  Peck tried to run off but Torian held him back by his arm.

  “NO! You ain’t goin’ out there to get killed! We’ll get to her! Hang on!” Torian yelled.

  Shot after shot was taken upon the truck. The driver's side window of the truck was shattered by a flying bullet. Its path didn’t stop there, though. Careening through the cab of the truck, the bullet plummeted through the passenger side window, shattering it to bits, finally meeting its end in Lev’s left arm.

  “Shit!” Lev shouted as the bullet found a warm home in his bicep. “Fuck!”

  “He’s shot!” Torian yelled.

  Torian and Von shot back at Luca’s crew, but they were quickly running out of bullets. Seeing that they were at a dead end with little chance for survival, Torian opened the cab of the truck and helped Lev inside. Von climbed in the flatbed of the truck as he continued to take shots upon Luca’s crew members. Fire exploded from the guns into the night as hatred spewed as hot as the summer air. Torian climbed into the driver seat, looked over and realized that Peck had not climbed into the truck. Peering over at his buddy who was still firing against the men that stood in his way, Torian screamed at Peck, “GET IN! I’m not leaving you here!”

  Peck tried to argue, but Torian didn't hear anything of it.

  “She will MURDER me if anything happens to you! Your coffin will not be on my fucking conscience. GET IN NOW!”

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Angel had fired three shots upon Alanna’s head at close range but she dodged the onslaught of bullets at the last second. The blasts rung loudly in her ear as she fought back against Angel. Swatting the gun out of Angel’s hands, she bit down hard upon Angel’s wrist. As Angel yelped in pain, Alanna forced herself up off of the ground. Breaking off into a run once more, Alanna charged forward. She could see the payphone from where she was. Alanna could hear yelling coming from Rugger Avenue, but she couldn’t understand what was being said. Angel’s footsteps were getting closer, and this only served to quicken Alanna’s run. Out of breath and out of energy, Alanna could still feel the effects of the cocaine in her system, but she had to press forward. Allowing her adrenaline to carry her, Alanna’s legs moved feverishly under her, closing the distance between herself and the phone. Plucking a quarter from her jean pocket, Alanna slid the coin in the slot and began to dial Peck’s digits. With each passing ring, Alanna became more nervous. Angel was quickly approaching. Then after five rings, Alanna’s call went to voicemail. She didn’t bother saying hi. She didn’t bother saying who she was. As Angel closed upon her, Alanna screamed into the phone, “6922 Rugger Avenue! Help me!”

  As soon as the words launched from Alanna’s tongue, she felt Angel’s rough hand close around her wrist.

  Peck climbed into the truck against his will and as soon as his body hit the seat, Torian slammed on the gas. Luca’s crew fired upon the back of the vehicle as they went. Tires screeched around the corner of Rugger Avenue. Peck kept his eyes on the streets. Zoning his eyes upon the pavement, he kept a keen eye out for Alanna but thus far he didn’t see her or Angel anywhere. As Torian followed the signs for the bridge, Peck balled his hands up into tight fists and let them slam down again and again atop the dashboard. As Torian drove the truck back across the Pennsylvania/New Jersey border a death-rattle of a scream echoed from Peck’s lungs.

  To be continued in part four of the Phoenix Saga.

  Little White Lies

  Elizabeth York

  Chapter One

  Hallie

  I woke up to see the skyline blocking out the rising sun from my window of the stinky, overcrowded airplane I was on. My back ached and my legs were cramped from the position in which I slept during the last few hours of the ride. The accommodations were less than satisfactory, but who could complain when I purchased the ticket from an unknown airline for near pennies on the dollar.

  I tried to stretch, but with the strange passenger beside me, who didn’t believe in boundaries, and my messenger bag shoved under my feet I was trapped like a rat in a cage. Beside me sat a man with red curly hair and enough visible tattoos to erase all color of flesh off his arms and neck. He smiled a big tooth-rotting smile at me, and I turned back to look out my window.

  “Attention passengers,” the pilot spoke over the tiny intercom throughout the plane. “We have arrived in New York City, and have begun our descent. Upon arrival please remain seated until the doors are opened. At that time, please gather your items and depart the plane. Anything left behind will only be held for three business days, so make sure you get everything you want to keep. Welcome to New York.”

  The man beside me stretched his upper body and then opened his whited-out cat eyes and gave me a nod followed by a smirk. Every nerve ending in my body told me to run when he yawned, but it wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of his freaky-looking forked tongue that I started planning my escape.

  I had to turn away before I had a complete meltdown and sprayed him with pepper spray for being unusual. I reminded myself that security had confiscated my pepper spray and that this trip, even with the weirdos, was what I wanted. I wanted to become a stagehand and build art pieces for Broadway plays. I wanted to be a theatrical technician after I learned the business. I wanted to learn how to use an audio board and control everything from a distance.

  As we de-plan
ed and stepped out into the airport there was a flow of people coming and going all around. They all seemed like they had this confidence about where they were going and what they were doing while I was looking up the baggage claim on the directory.

  It only took a few minutes of following the crowd to find where I needed to be. Then I stood at the airport and watched and waited for my bag. I reached into my messenger bag and began digging for Chapstick and missed seeing my bag move past me. I tried to chase it down, but it started going through the luggage conveyor all over again. The attendants didn’t care what they did as they threw bags here and there so when one was tossed on top of mine, I sighed. This definitely wasn’t home.

  I thought I was the last one left waiting for their items until I heard something that sounded like metal clanging. I turned to see this handsome linebacker of a man gathering his bags. He must have seen me watching him because when he looked up he gave me the most childish smile I had seen in ages.

  Without a word spoken, he walked over and picked up my bag, knocking the other bag onto the floor. Some woman started shouting about her luggage not belonging on a dirty floor because it was Louis Vuitton, but he didn’t pay her any attention.

  “Where are you headed?” He asked and I shrugged.

  “Grabbing a cab and then the skies the limit,” I offered up an answer without giving him any real information. This was a stranger, and this is a big city where murders happen every twenty seconds . . . or so I read somewhere.

  I reached my hand out to get my bag from him, but instead he nodded his head for me to follow and walked off. I took off after him, I kept him in my line of sight as best I could as I bumped into people and tried to get to my stuff. I thought I was being robbed, but once I got out the door near the taxi line he was standing there with a crooked smile on his face. I reached out and he handed me my bag.

  “Thank you,” I told the mysterious stranger whose dark hair reminded me of a rock star. It was somewhat wavy and carefree. Seemed like he knew how hot he was but didn’t seem to care.

  “You shouldn’t let strangers help you carry your bag,” he jokingly chastised me as his grin curved to the side to show he was having fun picking on me.

  “Truthfully, I thought you were a thief. I thought you were stealing my bag.”

  “Me? A thief?” He didn’t look angry, but I felt like I had somehow offended him. “Did you think I would get far with this hot pink suitcase with Hello Kitty on the side?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m not used to people helping me.”

  “Apology accepted,” he replied as he pulled out the handle on my rolling suitcase and handed it to me.

  “Why would you carry a stranger’s bag anyway?” I questioned. “Is this something you often do?”

  “No. I did it because you reminded me of sunshine,” his cryptic words made no sense to me, but his energy was euphoric. I could get drunk off the chemistry brewing between us.

  “I’m Hallie,” I blushed a little as I held my hand out for him. He looked at it strangely and shook his head as a chuckle left his mouth.

  “I’m the man you’ll tell your friends about,” he flirtatiously spoke as he took my hand in his and raised it to his lips. He placed a soft kiss and let it go. Then he just melded into the traffic of people around us and I lost him.

  The smile on my face wouldn’t fade and I convinced myself that the one random act of kindness I was privy to was a sign that everything was going to work out. That I was exactly where I needed to be. I picked up my phone and called my best friend, my dad.

  “Hey Dad,” I spoke into the phone when he finally answered.

  “Hey slugger,” he returned my greeting and the smile on my face grew. “How was the trip?”

  “As expected. Loud, smelly, and exceptionally long. I met a gentleman though. He helped me with my bag and then gave me a safety tip.”

  “Sounds like me,” my dad proudly reminded me that he drove me to the airport and carried my bag as well, then he stuffed my head full of safety tips between the hug and kiss goodbye. “Do you remember the plan?”

  “I am taking a cab to NYU. I’m looking for roommates on their community board so that I can room with someone smart, my age, same-sex, and someone that wants a future in the same field. Then I will get back in the cab and go to 7th Avenue and check into the Hotel Pennsylvania. From there I have three days to find a roommate before I run out of money and have to get on a bus and come home.”

  “That’s my girl. Always have a plan.”

  “I’ll never do anything without having a plan,” I assured him. “Is it a bad sign if I miss you already?”

  “No slugger, I have missed you since you learned to walk and started doing your own thing.” My dad made me nostalgic over a time that had come and gone.

  “I will come home for Christmas. I promise.” I spoke as I rolled my bag behind me and headed toward the line of people waiting for a cab.

  “Save your money, I will come see you,” my dad offered, and I was elated. There were a lot of people talking over me. I tried to say I love you, but I couldn’t hear myself think once I got into the line to catch a cab. I tried my best to make my dad hear that I would call him later, but between the people and the rushing traffic I don’t know if he heard me.

  When it was finally my turn, I climbed into the cab, and we sailed down the street as the already enormous buildings seemed to grow. Nervousness filled my belly when my eyes started playing tricks on me and it looked like the buildings were swaying. Things that towered over me like that always intimidated me. It’s like I couldn’t breathe when they showed me how small I truly was.

  We pulled up at NYU and I paid the cab driver to wait. It took me half an hour of traipsing all over the campus to find the board. There was nothing listed. Being mid-semester, I thought that surely someone would have something available. Some roommate that annoyed them had finally left, but there was nothing there. I took a photo of the board in case I missed something and headed back to the cab.

  My plan was gone. I was so sure I would have hundreds of roommate possibilities. Everything was going to fall apart if I couldn’t find a place to live that I could afford. As tears filled my eyes I picked up my phone and called my dad.

  “Daddy,” I sniffled. “I need a new plan.”

  Chapter Two

  Dean

  “Mr. Thomas, what makes you think you would be a good addition to the Manhattan School of Music?” The admissions counselor asked as I sat in a room with three other people taking notes on everything I said. It felt more like I was a study project than an interview.

  “I’m as good as anyone else who goes here, but I don’t want to just be good. I want to be great. I can sing and play just about any instrument, and the reason I would be a good addition to the school is because I don’t ever quit. I will contribute as much or as little as you let me.”

  “Are you prepared to be available for a call back at any time over the next thirty days as part of your enrollment process?” She asked as she tossed her graying blond hair over the red blazer she wore.

  “Yes, I’m prepared. I have a little house I found in Brooklyn,” I replied and passed her a copy of my temporary lease. She stood up and walked over to a copier. Then she scanned it into the system before passing it back to me.

  “Mr. Thomas, please take this time to settle into your new home. One way or another we will be in touch,” she smiled that same forced smirk that I had received at three other universities when they refused to accept me.

  It was the age thing. I wasn’t fresh out of high school. I was twenty-five. I didn’t excel in math and science before getting a diploma. I got a GED, and immediately went to work when my mom got sick. Then I took on a second job when she passed away and raised my sister until she went to college. Now, it was my turn to do what I always wanted to do.

  I walked out of her office with my briefcase as I loosened my tie. I hated wearing a suit, it seemed to give off the impression that I
had money, power, and everything I wanted when in reality I was reaching for the stars.

  I walked a few blocks over to the library and put up a roommate wanted sign on the community board. I intentionally covered up some of the others because now that I was in New York there was no way I was leaving. Then I walked away, took a cab, and headed to the house.

  When I arrived, I noticed that the place looked rough. I had seen pictures, and arrived at night, but in the daylight, it looked like it had survived a war. I walked up the three broken cement stairs and let myself in with a key.

  I was home.

  The white walls and white tiled floors left a wide opening for improvement, and I had an entire month to see if I would get a callback. I immediately changed clothes and put on a pair of jeans and a Yankees T-shirt. I walked out of the house and used my phone to find the nearest hardware store.

  I found one a little way away and collected sandpaper blocks, paint, varnish, quick-drying cement, and other things. I had just stumbled upon the drills when my phone rang.

  “Hello,” I answered the number that was not local to New York.

  “I’m Hallie Henderson, and I am calling about the roommate wanted,” a sweet little voice came through the line. When I thought about roommates, I wanted someone I could be in a band with— without actually having to be in a band— but this voice on the phone didn’t give off the I-can-drum vibe.