THE PAWN [H.S]

♟ Chapter 1 ♟

September 22, 2004

I hid behind a wall.

Steady breaths. They weren't far—I could hear them speak each fading word.

Laughing.

They were laughing at me because I was not a threat to them, just another annoying distraction falling into their paths-accustomed to bigger works, more dangerous and thrilling. This was hardly more than an insult to their gawking bloodthirst.

The Blaze

Ran in the mouths of everyone involved with the underworld. It was America after all, and the government was enslaved to them—bound to listen and obey all their needs in exchange for some pitiful illegal trade, protection, and nasty business. Not even a fair exchange of games.

Anyone on their wrong side ended up dead.

But Meera Malik died a long time ago.

I had no identity, just a veil hiding my face, as I ran around the streets of America with one mission on my mind and something told me I was walking straight into the lion's den to kill the lion itself.

The narrow lane was barely visible. It was past midnight, and the street lights flickered, making it harder to see through.

Two men walked right past me as I slammed myself into the wall before they could have seen me, my hand instinctively going to the gun in my holster.

I breathed, that was too close.

"They are here," I said into my earpiece.

"Do you need assistance? We can do this later. We don't know how many he's sent down here. It's too dangerous. It wouldn't be that hard to take one down."

"Oh please, believe me. It will." I was not trying to be presumptuous or overconfident either, it was nothing but a matter of fact. "I am going to try and find them first."

"Okay, we will be waiting. Be fast, Meera. Don't lose yourself in it."

Taking the pistol out I charged forward, ignoring his words from getting inside my head. It was too hard to admit the little truth hiding behind them. Every time I heard them scream, or saw their blood spilling out—it soothed all the bones in my body. I found calmness in their misery. It avenged me in ways no one could ever comprehend.

I walked by the sides of the buildings, one step at a time. The two men I saw before had completely missed my presence but they wouldn't be that dumb to be one hundred percent sure that I wasn't there hiding in some sinuous curve. One had to have stayed behind.

I took one of my earpieces out, searching through any imbalance I could find in the darkness. There's graffiti painted all across the walls, implying that not a lot of people lived here and with much worse supervision from the government. This was their area—they lived, breathed, and dined in these buildings, in these alleyways. But fortunately, they couldn't gather in a public area with so many chances for their masks to be ripped right off their faces. They had no permanence in life, no future, they were just as trapped as me.

In the dark, as I was moving I felt something almost crashing into me, my whole body shuddered. I brought my hands up, it was not a body, but clearly metal. I sighed in relief—an innocent trashcan stood in my way. My ears perked, and in that moment of fragility, I heard some faint shuffling of shoes near me-my instincts overtook and I ducked down using it to my advantage.