The Turn - Chapter 1 ( My thriller novel)

The pain was unbearable, but there was still a mile. Broadway was still lighted up, and there was no sign of the albino they had just escaped from Times Square. Their home wasn’t distant; it was just near the 6th Avenue. The pain posed immense more importance than the desire of recollection of stack. The man drew his black blazer and tried to cover his wife, driven by panic still confused how to act. The car halted. 

“Are we there, Mr.?” Said Caleb quickly addressing the halt.

“Hope so,” said the driver. 

Caleb didn’t realize the situation they were entangled into, nor did Susan. No sooner had Susan moved a little to open the windows, than a bullet whizzed past her to render their driver lifeless. Susan panicked. Caleb quickly took control of the situation and grabbed the steering wheel. The windows glasses smashed as another bullet intruded them. Caleb turned back and told Susan to stay quiet. She was terrified, rather horrified. They were running down a 2005 San Andreas war right in the core of New York City. Where was the police? Susan groaned.

Another shot and their wheels were flat. Caleb grumbled and still tried his best to run away.  Luck had outwitted Caleb. Susan rose and turned her head backward. Next thing she knew was being hit by the same Mazda CX-5. Susan tried to scream, and then darkness swept over her with a thud. All she could remember was waking up in a suburban room. The pain had swept away. Probably, the baby must have been given an opportunity, or maybe the albino’s prophecy was right. Altogether, she was perturbed.

Lights were dim, and the windows were covered in black paint. There was a table next to her bed.  From the light coming through ventilation, it was evident that it was early morning. There weren’t any birds chirping or blaring of horns which assured her that she wasn’t in NYC anymore. The room looked very unpleasant and was sufficient to disrupt the mindset of the calmest person on the planet. The room reminded her of the concentration camp she was kept in, during Libyan Intervention.

 First, they were told that they were told, that they were being taken as an accomplice. Then, followed an aggressive Q&A phase and finally camps. She used to wake up everyday day keenly with a hope that this must have been a dream. But, just as resignations always substitute expectation, this came as no big surprise. The cozy rooms with over populated people and ammunition stuffed all over. When she had escaped with Caleb, she went to take judicial remedies, but the camps weren’t the part of book Liberia would accept. The mere thought of camps shivered her. Thinking about the fields, the room she was in felt comfortable.

Just as she was occupied with her thoughts, the door unlocked itself, and a man entered. He was probably 30, dressed in a black suit, yellow tie and not to mention a Kevlar helmet. No matter that looked odd or even, Susan had every reason to be frightened.

“Its better you are awake, else I would have had to try assaulting you. Follow me.”

He turned towards the entrance probably from where he had come from.  As he did so, Susan noticed a dragon tattoo on his neck and smiled. She followed the man. They were going along a pathway with improper drainage. Sounds of rats and dogs crying were inevitable. Morning light hadn’t swept the path.  They reached a point where the road seemed to end. 

“Wait here,” he said and took out his phone called reluctantly. 

“She’s here, ” and a smile on his face affirmed that some permission was granted. The man hinged upon a bolt near the wall of the conduit which seemed to have popped out of nowhere. The screws unbolted themselves with a thud, and a new access stood discernibly. The man closed the access behind Susan, and he walked along the invinsibleSymbols to yet another entrance and said, “You.” 

Susan hesitantly opened the door and both her hands instinctively shot up and covered her eyes, which was better adjusted to the darkness. In the camouflage of beaming glow of the room, filled with artificial white light, stood a man, dark eyes and same grave look on his face like his colleagues. He too had had the dragon tattoo engraved on the back of his neck.  Susan couldn’t utter a word.  

 “Welcome! Welcome!” said the man.

This time the room was flooded with white lights, and there were no signs of peace with all the men standing with a .40 caliber pistol. She was quick in knowing the ammunition status of a person. After all, that’s what you learn after spending the week in a Liberian camp. The room was huge, and unlike the last one, this wasn’t painted black. There was a person tied to a nifty chair and face covered with a serviette. There were staircases which probably lead to the roof.  Mechanized armor and specialized weapons were also not to overlook. 

“Here ma’am. You probably know me. No? Okay, let me introduce myself. I am Luca Cortez. If you know or would have ever heard about me then you will drop the act and enlighten me with the location of Caleb,  else he dies.”

Cortez uncovered the serviette and Susan were quick to recognize the albino they had met at the Times Square. Susan's face was filled with despair and incredible zeal for hope. 

“I swear in the name of God. Please, let him go. I don’t know anything. All I know is that I was being driven to the hospital then our chauffeur was seized, and we had met an accident. The next thing I know is waking up here.”

“I know you are lying. I knew you would. I am going to make a count of five if you won’t open your bloody mouth; I am going to put a bullet in the core of his skull.” Cortez withdrew a gun from the table and pointed to the albino.

“One.” 

Susan was filled with qualm and incontinency as to how to act. Cortez seemed impatient, and his face was all ice and fire. Everything seemed just too much fast. It was only the previous morning that she had woken up with Caleb thinking everything is going to be fine. All’s fixed. After all, they now could have each other for the whole day. 

“Two.”

 Just as Cortez uttered the very word, his phone rang. He picked up, and his face explained that some concern had swept in. As he did put the phone back to his pocket he commanded, ”Put her and this idiot back” Few men came and dragged the albino out of the chamber. 

As Cortez was also leaving the room, he said to Susan, “Don’t ever think you would be reckoned out.”

One of the men rushed to Susan and said, “Here” Susan followed the man to the staircase, and in no time they were out of the chamber and stood in a clear, distinct t rooftop helipad. A Kazan Mi35M was standing there. The man said, “ Zelkova's  down. Rabbit back to syndrome.”

Susan smiled and rushed towards the black beast. The engines started to blaze, and  in no time she was flying high, free. 

[Thanks for reading till the end! I am sorry if some errors have crept up!]