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Back The Rise of Nine
Chapters (31)
  1. The Rise of Nine
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The elevator doors open into an underground garage. We pause and carefully look around before we start to unload. With the coast clear, Nine and I throw the bags over our shoulders and BK follows. As we turn a corner, I see we’re headed for a car hidden under a dusty tarp. After the luxury of the apartment, I can only imagine what must lurk beneath it. I can picture a yellow Ferrari, or something equally flashy. Or maybe it’s a white convertible Porsche or even a black Lotus.

Nine must have read my thoughts. He winks at me and yanks the tarp off to reveal our ride. There, in all its glory, sits an old, beat-up, beige Ford Contour. Not exactly the pimpedout ride I was expecting, but bling is now the least of my concerns; this thing doesn’t look like it’ll even start.

‘Are you serious?’ I ask, not even bothering to hide my disgust.

Nine looks at me innocently, even though he clearly knew what I was expecting. ‘What? You were hoping for a Camaro?’

‘Not exactly. But I was hoping for something with less rust spots. Something that looks less determined to die,’ I say.

‘Shut up and get in, Johnny,’ he says, tossing his bags into the trunk. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.’

22.

22.

I wake to the sensation of rocking back and forth. Everything hurts. My whole body feels fried by the sun: my throat, my skin, my feet and my head. My lips are so dry and burned, I can’t even put them together. My eyelids are the worst of all, and they refuse to open, no matter how desperately I want to see where I am. The rocking and swaying continues and it dawns on me I must be in a moving vehicle. A wave of nausea rolls over me. I try to lift my hands to my head, but that’s when I discover they’re tied down. So are my legs. Now I’m wide awake, and I force my eyes open and look madly around, but all I see is darkness. I close my eyes again. The desert sun must have left me blind.

I try to call out for help, but all I can do is wheeze and cough. My ears pick up an echo, and I concentrate on the air around me. I cough again, just to hear the echo once more. It’s enough sound to understand I’m in a tight space, and that the space around me is made of metal. It feels like I’m in a coffin, and I almost wretch.

That’s when I start to panic. What if I’m not blind? What if I’m really dead? I can’t be. I am in way too much pain to be dead. But I feel buried alive.