Fury (26 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Ethan

             
The night seemed eerily still, as if the city knew to stay in, could sense my mission and those who hunted me. Khanh, the man who ran the trafficking rings in northeast Vietnam, wanted me. Me, an American boy from Montana. Me, half Echo Tribe. Me, taught by Akule Moonsong. Me, my father’s son. Me. Only half without Finley Dyer.

              I pulled my black hood farther over my face and stayed near the buildings. I knew enough at that point not to expect solicitors to approach me. No, they knew who to look for. They’d gunned down a woman right in front of my eyes in the middle of a busy day on an equally busy street in Hanoi. They wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing to me.

              So instead of exposing myself to becoming a potential target, I kept myself hidden, walking a fine line between the light from the moon and the shade of the buildings. I had every intention of exploring every alley I could.

They were like rats, the men in the trafficking cells. They sank into their dark, disgusting hiding spots. They chose the most bleak, soiled, offensive areas they could, as if they were frightened of the light, as if they were frightened of anything clean. As if they were afraid of what the exposure might do. As if the very idea of the moonlight was a risk they weren’t willing to take, afraid they’d be gobbled up by the devil himself if their toes so much as traced that very visible line.

The line between heaven and hell.

A line I walked myself.

Careful, or you’ll tip to the wrong side
.

              I captured the fear that thought brought me and shoved it away from me as quickly as possible. I imagined it shattered into a million pieces as it hit cobblestone and that those pieces grew legs like insects then crawled into the tight, dark spaces out of my sight. Out of my mind.

              I came upon my first alley and edged the building nearest me, staying to the shadows. I glanced down and noticed a straight, smooth wall, void of any side entrances. I kept walking until I reached the next alley and did the same, yielding identical results. It wasn’t until the fifth alley did I notice a door in the center of the building left of the alley. My gut instinct told me everything I needed to know.

              It was the only door in the alley, ideal for privacy. The piles of trash usually piled high at the sides of the buildings were scarce, which would have been something they would have preferred so their customer base wasn’t too revolted by their surroundings, as if they had the right to care. I scaled the wall toward the door. I could hear men’s voices inside. They were arguing in Vietnamese, making me wish I could speak the language. They were yelling at each other, anxiety and anger prevalent in their tones, but there was an additional edge to their shouts I recognized. They were
afraid
.

             
As you should be
, I thought.

              I looked up. The alley was narrow enough I could push myself between the walls and scale up to the second-story window. It was an easy enough task, only ten to twelve feet above street level. When I got closer, I leaned my shoulder into the building housing the men and braced myself with a booted foot on the other wall.

             
Breathe
.

              Carefully, oh so carefully, I peered into the window, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was empty. I shifted so my left hand and that same booted foot held my weight, leaning my free knee under the sill so I could lift the window.

             
Breathe
.

Quickly, I lifted myself, my fingers gripping the thin outside frame, then threw my feet inside, followed by the rest of me. I did this as quietly as possible, standing to my full height and unzipping my hoodie. I crossed my arms and palmed my knives, sliding them silently from their sheaths.

Breathe
.

I noiselessly crossed the room and leaned my ear against the door but couldn’t hear anything over the din of the men arguing below.

Breathe
.

I cut across to the other side of the door and palmed the doorknob, turning the handle, and cracking the door.

Breathe
.

When no one reacted, I pulled it open just enough to peer through.

Breathe
.

There was no one there. Not in the halls, at least.

Breathe
.

I listened for any distinguishing sounds, men walking up stairs or in the rooms, but I heard nothing. A moment’s pause and I pulled the door open completely. I shoved myself back a bit, prepared for someone to invade the room but none came.

Breathe
.

The hall was indeed deserted as I emerged a few steps from the door.

Breathe
.

              There were two doors besides the one I’d exited. I started at the one at the end, bending my ear but hearing nothing. I slid the knob, giving it a small nudge so it would fall open. There was no one there.

             
Breathe
.

              I bent my ear toward the second one and again heard nothing. I opened the door as I had the other and just like the other, it was empty.

              Breathe
.

             
Damn
, I thought,
it was all for nothing
. I turned to flee when my eye caught the edge of a staircase leading to a third floor.

              Breathe
.

              I had two choices. Leave. Or stay.
What the hell is the point of you risking breaking in here if you don’t check all possibilities?
I stayed.             

             
Breathe
.

              I headed toward the third floor as prudently as possible given that the stairs were wood. Every time one would creak, I’d still, my heart jumping into my throat and wait for the men to come barrelling up after me. But, it seemed, they were too busy arguing, which way was the best way to catch me or avoid me to notice I was already above their heads.

             
Breathe
.

              The third floor wasn’t so much another level as a barren attic but in the back, tucked into a corner, was a room with a closed door that appeared recently constructed.

Breathe
.

I twisted my way across the wood floor staying mindful of any sudden movements that could make a sound but also moving as efficiently as possible.

Breathe
.

I listened against the door for any sounds but none came.

Breathe
.

I slowly opened it, not sure what to expect.

Breathe
.

Inside was a young girl, a very young girl. Her body trembled in automatic fear of me and my heart sank at the sight of her. She was newly abducted, I could tell. The other girls never shook the way this girl shook. They were accustomed to their horrors and had shed their despair along with their hope. But this young girl, she wore her trepidation with such distressed anguish I almost cried for her there on the spot.

I removed my hood and held my hands up in the air. I fixed my expression into something I tried to pass as composed, though I wasn’t sure how well I’d done, since I was still reeling from the obvious dread rolling off her in panicked waves.

I shook my head back and forth and placed a finger over my lips to quiet her. She’d begun to whimper. As soon as I did this, she obeyed.

“Do you speak English?” I whispered. “Nod your head.”

She nodded yes.

              “I’m going to take you away from here,” I told her. She shook her head vigorously. “Why not?” I asked her.

“They kill me,” she answered. “If I leave, they kill me.”

“No harm will come to you. Do you hear me? They will not touch a hair on your head as long as I am alive,” I promised.

Her eyes blew wide.

              “We have to hurry, though. Can you climb onto my back?”

She scurried over to my side and I bent down for her. She climbed on quickly and wrapped her baby arms around my neck as tightly as she could. I wrapped my arms underneath her legs and hurried back across the floor to the top of the staircase.

              I leaned over. I could still hear the men yelling at one another. The girl was trembling but she held on with determination, making me proud of her.

              Breathe
.

              I escaped down the stairs, crossed the hallway, and into the room I’d come through from the alley.

Breathe
.

I set her down and signaled to her that I needed to crawl out of the window, brace myself, and that I needed her to climb onto my back again. She agreed.

Breathe
.

Once through the window, I held myself up for her, my arms trembling from the effort. Nimbly, she obeyed me without hesitation.

Breathe
.

We dangled fifteen feet above the concrete ground and although she shuddered with obvious fear, she held on.

Breathe
.

I scaled the walls back down, careful not to shift so radically she fell.

Breathe
.

When my toes hit surface, I exhaled in utter relief.

“Let’s go,” I said, turning my face to meet hers near my shoulder.

And so I ran.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Ethan

             
When I reached the end of the alley, I stopped to check for any lookouts at street level.
Clear
.

“
Đến
đây
!”
I heard behind us, startling me, and making my blood run cold.

Breathe
.

I shifted the girl around, holding her like an infant, tucking her legs into my side and bracing her head on my shoulder.

Breathe
.

“Hold on,” I spoke.

             
She closed her eyes.

             
Breathe
.

              I ran in the direction of Tran’s police station, hoping beyond hope that there were a few officers there who didn’t reside in the back of Khanh’s pocket.

             
Breathe
.

              I ran, my lungs pumping air. My body desperate for oxygen, desperate for relief, desperate for some sort of sign that he was losing momentum, but I could still hear his dull steps behind me. He yelled at me repeatedly in Vietnamese.

              “He tells you to come,” the small girl explained to me as we passed storefront after storefront, passing people with their strange looks but with no care other than to look upon us then carry on with their own business.

              In the adrenaline rush, I made two split-second decisions that threw off my sense of direction and we ended up in an almost deserted part of the city, which I hadn’t thought possible. It looked like a dumping ground for the locals’ trash. Piles and piles of it lined the streets and the alleys.

              Finally, the guy’s steps seemed to fade a bit. In desperation for rest, I ducked between two buildings when I saw an opening through to the other side. I kept running, although slower, not for a second thinking he’d given up. I could tell the guy was built for endurance. He hadn’t slowed because he needed to. He’d slowed because he wanted to.

              When I reached the end of the byway, I had two choices. To my left, there was nothing but darkness and trash. To my right... the same.
Jesus! Which way! Which way!

             
I heard what sounded like a metal can tumble across pavement a few yards behind us, maybe ten yards away.

             
Shit!

             
I sprinted right, running as fast and as hard as I could but was met with a dead end.
Oh, Jesus! I just killed us both!

Breathe.

              Breathe.

              Breathe.

My chest burned with such intensity I could barely stomach it.

              I glanced behind me. He was close. My eyes searched my surroundings. Pitch black and seemingly nowhere else to go. The smell of the trash amassed against the sides was atrocious, burning my nose.

              I threw the girl onto the ground and tossed what I could over her.

“Don’t move,” I told her. “Don’t say a word. Don’t breathe.” I peered over my shoulder. “And for the love of God, whatever you do, cover your ears and
don’t look
.”

Her eyes widened to impossible breadth and she nodded. She obeyed me and faced the wall. I covered her face as best I could and waited.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

My chest rose and fell violently. The rapid, thump, thump, thump of my heart drummed in my ears. Strapped to my sides rested my sharp blades. I unzipped my hoodie, crossed my arms, and palmed the knives’ handles.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

“
Đến
đây
!”
I heard again, making my pulse jump. My heart leapt into my throat. I crouched, bent my knees, readying for anything.

The speaker, the man chasing us, rushed around the edge of the building but came to a stop when he caught me standing. He smiled cruelly then spoke to me in Vietnamese, words I didn’t understand, and made his way toward me. He stopped short once more. His head tilted to his right. His eyes narrowed.  

              “You messed up,” he said in English, realizing I hadn’t understood him before and made his way toward me once more. The look on his face was one of pure menace. “I’m going to skin you alive,” he told me. “Then I’m going to take care of that girl personally. I’m going to
ruin
her,” he finished. The word
ruin
sparked the memory of Fin’s. “I’m ruined,” she’d told me. My body shook with a wrathful terror.

             
Breathe
.

              I shook my head, my tongue too thick to speak.

              He was big for a local. I suppose that’s why they hired him to do what he did, but no matter. I was taller and built better. I also had something he didn’t. I was trained to kill. Animals, yes, but to me he was just that. An animal.

              My blood boiled in my veins and the anxious adrenaline was replaced with an absolute hatred, a fury so destructive it frightened me. My teeth gritted in my jaw and I reveled in the pressure.

              I knew it the instant he’d made the decision, and all the breath I’d held whooshed from my lungs. A look of determination flitted across his face and I could only smile, content in my malice. This visibly confused him but he charged forward, regardless.

              Two feet within striking distance, my short blades pealed with a beautiful ring and it brought me such serenity. The gun strapped to his back was useless and he knew it.

I plunged both blades into his sides near his ribs and his mouth opened in shock, his body leaned against mine in support. I held him up with the blades and bent into his ear.

“You messed up,” I said, stealing his words.

Blood curdled from his mouth, and I removed my blades as he slid to the ground. I bent and wiped my knives off on his jacket. His mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water, but I couldn’t conjure up any compassion for him. Instead, I stood over him and placed my boot over his heaving chest, pressing as much of my weight into him as possible.

“You will burn in fire so scorching you’ll beg for this moment over and over again.”

His last breath struggled from his lungs and his eyes went blank. I replaced my knives and kicked the corpse to the side, covering his body as much as I could with garbage, hoping the smell would hide him and no one would find him for several days.

I turned back to her, fished her from her hiding place, and threw her over my shoulder. “Don’t look,” I ordered, and she nodded her head.