Canary by Tijan
Ash
We parked, and everyone suited up in the alley. It was dark, but I could make out Raize pulling out a box of some sort and hitting a button. A red light flashed twice, then went out. He gave hand signals to Cavers and Jake, and both nodded. Then he handed out silencers. Jake attached mine to my gun. He secured a second gun to my back.
Cavers distributed masks, and we pulled them down over our faces. Only our eyes were visible.
We also had earplugs, but Jake only attached mine to my ear, letting it hang down.
After that, Raize motioned for us to go.
He went first.
Cavers went next.
Jake indicated for me to go before him, and he brought up the rear.
We hit the building, and by the time I rounded the corner, the four security guards were down. Raize and Cavers were through the door and running up the first flight of stairs. The guards just inside the door were unconscious as well.
I started to go after them, but Jake touched my arm and motioned that I should proceed forward on the first floor.
I nodded.
He moved ahead of me, leading the way. We worked our way through the floor. Anyone Jake saw, he took down.
Body after body, and I had a moment, a short one when I faltered, but Jake kept moving forward. I needed to remind myself that these men were here for a reason. They weren’t any better or worse than us, and God knew we deserved bullets as well. The killing we did, the evil we committed? That was the death I knew was coming.
I was okay with that.
So I shut myself down, summoned up the Ash I’d been in the truck with Raize not long ago, and moved forward.
I hadn’t used my gun. Yet.
Above us, we heard slight thumps. I assumed Raize and Cavers were clearing their floor, same as us.
I didn’t get why no one was calling ahead, sounding the alarm, but on our way up a second flight of stairs, I saw one of the men Raize or Cavers had already taken out. His hand was out, his phone in it, but the device was totally dead.
There was another phone by another body and the same thing.
I didn’t pull my phone out to check, but I guessed Raize had hit a cell phone jammer.
The yelling didn’t start until Jake and I were halfway through the second floor. The shouts were muffled, but clearly from the third floor. Jake took off sprinting. I was right behind him, and when we got there, the door to a large room was open.
Jake put his earplug in and motioned for me to do the same.
I heard zaps from inside the room.
People were running.
More zaps.
Gunshots were traded.
More thuds.
We stopped just outside the door, waiting until both our earplugs were in and then we entered.
I tried not to count how many men I had stepped over, until I realized what I was seeing.
It was a poker game, and some hadn’t even left their seats before meeting their end. I saw Carloni and two of my previous bosses. There was another man in the corner, his security men surrounding him, but all were down. The guy’s body had fallen back and slumped to the floor, a bullet hole in his forehead.
There was one man still alive, and he cowered under the table.
I swept over, seeing it was the dealer. He met my eyes and raised his hands.
I didn’t shoot him, motioning for Jake to let him be.
Jake whirled to take down the few remaining men at the outskirts of the room with Cavers.
Raize was gone.
A door at the back of the room was open. Likely Raize had gone through it.
I scanned the bodies, the room. No Bronski.
Where’s Bronski?
There was a last zap, and then Cavers was running, his footsteps like an entire herd of horses stampeding through the room. He disappeared through the door.
The shooting began again.
Jake had stopped to gather phones and wallets from the men. He produced a bag from somewhere—where he’d had that stashed, I didn’t know—and I helped him. We did this to everyone in the room, the dealer as well once Jake knocked him unconscious. I didn’t think that was necessary, but he didn’t shoot him. That was something.
Then we backtracked, going through all the downed men in the hallways, and returning to the first floor.
When we got to an exit, Cavers came down the back stairwell, a bag in hand. He went through first, leaving the door open.
Jake followed. I was next.
Cavers took my bag and dropped it into his own, which was now opened, but he was zipping it closed.
Where’s Raize?
Where’s Bronski?
I didn’t ask. We’d done all of this in complete silence. We ran, single file, back to the truck. Cavers got behind the wheel. Jake jumped in the back and gripped my elbow, helping me up as I threw myself in behind him.
Then we were off.
Cavers put the truck in reverse.
I gripped the side to brace myself. We hit the street, and he kept going, right into the next alley.
A door flew open, light hitting the alley’s pavement, and Cavers hit the brakes, stopping right in front of it.
Raize appeared, his chest heaving and blood all over him. He had a body thrown over his shoulder, either dead or unconscious. Jake stood to help him, and when they put him in the back, I froze.
It was Bronski.
Raize met my eyes fleetingly before he gripped the side of the truck and launched himself up next to me.
Once he was settled, he hit the side of the truck and pushed me down to lie flat on the bed. Jake settled down as well, rearranging some of the bags they’d thrown into the back of the truck earlier. He used them to brace himself. I crawled forward and did the same as Raize flattened down behind us. He grabbed my leg and Jake’s to hold himself still, before taking hold of one of Bronski’s arms. Jake took the other. They anchored him as we drove out of the city.
Cavers took us from one road to another, slowing, then speeding up. He was keeping to the darker side streets—fewer cameras, less lighting.
I couldn’t say how long the drive was. It felt too fast, and it felt like it was days.
Once we hit gravel, exhaustion crept over me, and one last thought flashed in my mind:
I never used my gun.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
I shook my head, shoving that memory away.
