Saturday Morning

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Dedication to JiyaMas again, for another awesome cover!!!


This book is purely a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people or real locales are used fictitiously . Any other names, characters and creations are all works of the author's imagination. Any similarities to any existent works and real locales and people are all coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 GrantKap

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She closed her eyes to focus on her breathing. The first shot was always the hardest for her, even though she knew she was always capable of mustering more courage than this.

"Anna! Anna! Anna!" the chanting got louder and louder. This is not going to end well, she thought.

Her target was right in front of her, all lined up. Everybody in the room was brimming with excitement filled with testosterone and estrogen, urging her on. Just a bunch of hormonal savages she thought. Yet the pressure to take the shot raged on within her.

Carly, her room mate, was screaming at the top of her voice. The one who started all this stupidity... she was so dead.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

"Whoop!" The whole bar went mad as she chucked down her Vodka shots. All four of them- another four of them. "Yeah, boo!" Carly jumped down from the counter running towards Anna full speed, to order another round...

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Oh my God, Turn that off"

Anna woke up where she always did after a drunken night, at the feet of the bed facing the door, her rifle in hand. Carly's whispering seemed like loud buzzing in her ears, but the alarm was worse.

Carly always slept three feet from the bed side, but it was always Anna who walked the whole length of it to subdue the alarm.

The wooden floor creaked, as she walk past a few empty bottles. Last night's reminder.

She put the rifle back in its casing carefully before hitting the bathroom. It was an air rifle, 22 cal, given to her back home in England. Anna had been in the shooting club since she was twelve. The rifle was the only thing that could ever define her strength. Waking up rifle in hand was just habit for the times she would get nightmares, since she was a child. She grabbed the paper towels and mop as she walked into the bathroom, sure to find a mess Carly probably left behind.

"...and in sports, last night's game here in LA registered the highest...The yen dipped by over..."

The T.V. screeched at the lowest possible volume, Carly's early morning habit was checking the news. Despite Carly's dumb, party animal wild act, she was one of the most successful stock marketers. One of the youngest too, at the age of twenty one. She was also a genius hacker, but her mischievous deeds never extended as far- she never really broke the law as per say.

Anna was still the responsible of the two, even though she was a year younger. Anna was a novice painter, only recently turned professional but truly gifted. Her parents were some rich couple originating from London, Britain. They were currently living in the U.S as well- in Washington D.C. Every month they sent her a lucrative check to cover for her bills, but Anna wanted to earn her own.

"What happened last night?" Carly moaned on the bed. "Oh I hate you," Anna moaned back, while brushing her teeth in the mirror. At least this time her hair was still brown. Last time she woke up as blond as Carly. But the green in her eyes was barely showing signs of life.

Carly was intoxicating, outgoing; Anna was sort of an introvert, with glasses and all. Carly knew Anna hated going out to drink. She would rather stay indoors close to home base, but every once in a while Carly would drag her by force.

But they were like sisters now, they could never leave each other's side.

Their apartment was one huge block with two floors, with sections only split by objects defining functionality. Except for the bathroom, and a floor that split Anna's art and Carly's hardware, on the second level. Between the two of them, they could easily afford it and any necessary renovations. But they had grown fond of the musky classic wooden look and industrial sense of mood.

Carly was an orphan thrown from one foster family to the next, until one day she stumbled onto a scholarship for gifted foster kids. And her affinity towards technology and her IQ was discovered. She became more independent when she found her way onto the stock market.

"Why am I naked?" Carly was shaking off the hangover. "Aren't you always naked?" Anna's muffled reply was weary- her British roots only barely recognized in her accent.

"No like I'm fully naked, not even in my knickers right now" It was never too early or bothersome for Carly to tease Anna for her origins. "Million dollar question..." Anna replied sarcastically.

"Oh my God we should stop drinking like this," Carly followed Anna to the bathroom slowly. Knocking over some of the empty bottles as expected.

"Oh God! You couldn't think to put something on then?"

"I'm so hangover right now..." Carly didn't seem to care.

"Oh my God Carly, your hair..." That was the first thing that made Anna smile. Almost choking on her brush.

"OMG... Red!" But Carly sounded rather impressed than freaked out. It was very easy to forget about her IQ many times.

"BREAKNG NEWS... The police have discovered yet another murder, believed to be the body of Prime Minister Hendrix, in a hotel in New York. The details all align to point out that this is the work of the same serial killer, who has been dropping bodies all the way from Italy to California, this is the 18th dignitary body dropped in the past year."

"Oh my God, this was right here in New York," Carly's face lit up as she heard the news. "This guy is like a ghost, they still don't have a single clue whom he may be." She rushed to the T.V. 

"You know you're still naked right?" Anna mumbled. Why did she even bother? Carly wasn't listening.

"How does he do it? Ex CIA probably."

"I'm sorry I don't stalk psychos boo," Anna brushed Carly off as she went to the kitchen, putting her glasses back on. Carly had been obsessed with the mystery of the murders for the past year for some reason. Anna never understood why anyone would be so obsessed with psycho babble. Only psychos would- she stopped in her thoughts as she watched Carly scratch some things not worth mentioning.

The mail dropped in as the coffee maker rumbled. Carly quickly rushed to collect. She was anticipating tickets to a concert the next Friday, mooning as she bent over to sort through the mail. Anna was too tired to complain.

"No, no, no... Oh! Prime art exhibit..." Carly spoke the three magical words Anna was longing to hear.

"Wait what?" Anna quickly rushed in. She had applied for a spot at the art gallery exhibit downtown. Her first break as an artist, if she got in.

"Hold your knickers, okay! I'll open it for you." Carly protested, as she ripped the mail open.

"Ahhh! I made it! I'm in!" Anna's hangover was gone.

"OK! We should Celebrate Anna! We going out tonight!"

The thought of it made Anna laugh, but Carly was serious. Over the last year they had become incredibly immune to lasting hangovers. Carly could do it all over again, and still feel chipper twenty minutes after waking up the next morning.

But Anna had a meeting at Deon Corporation, Monday morning.

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