Someone's In My Head (WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2015)

Chapter Twenty-Four (Pt. 1)

Unlike the badass and seemingly imperturbable Phil Schwarzenegger, I must admit that I was quite surprised at Layla's arrival.

In fact, I was so surprised that when I hastily wrestled back mission control from Phil, I stuttered for five full seconds. It's pretty embarrassing, so I'll just say that the stutter was mainly composed of repeated "wha―"s and "why―"s. Oh, right, and 'how's.

Layla folded her arms and stared at me coolly. "When you're done with your gaping act, perhaps you would be interested to know that there's an army downstairs waiting to take you down once you step out of this building. And by 'take you down', I mean kill you."

That snapped me out of my awkward moment of aphasia. I sprang into action. "Right. How many guys are there?"

Layla shrugged. "I don't know. Five, maybe ten? They're pretty conspicuous, though, dressed up like that, but they were scattered all around the building, so I couldn't be sure. Even I had to climb in through the window in the fire escape to get past them."

No, this is not good. "You mean they have all the exits sealed?"

"I'm pretty sure they do." Then Layla gave me a somewhat condescending look. "What? You afraid of heights?"

I had to try very hard not to roll my eyes. Flinging my arms up in exasperation, I snapped. "Tanya cannot jump. In fact, she can barely walk."

Right after I said the words, I knew I'd made a mistake. Layla's eyebrows knitted together like the plastic teeth of a zipper. "Who's Tanya?"

Shit. "Um, Phil's wife?" I mumbled. "And I know you'll wanna know who Phil is, but it's a long story, so it's either I give you a bedtime story right now and tuck you to bed before getting riddled with bullets, or we get our asses to somewhere safe before I explain everything. Take your pick."

Layla narrowed her eyes at me. "Very well. Where's this Tanya girl?"

"She's right here..." I strode over to the closet where Tanya was hiding. To my confusion, the door of the closet was slightly ajar. I felt a claw of unease grip at my heart. Fearing the worst, I slowly opened the closet door.

The closet was empty.

Instantly, a chaotic cacophony erupted inside my head as Phil and Lenny started talking at once. Correction: talking, shouting.

Phil: (incensed) what the fuck happened, man? She was right there a minute ago, and now she's what, gone? Vanished?

Lenny: (uncertain) I did see her walk into that closet...

Phil: (still very incensed) it's your fault, Jarod. You're the one who asked her to hide in that fucking closet.

Although I knew very well that the conflict was internal (inside my head), I instinctively held my hands up in a defensive gesture. "Whoa, man. What do you reckon I should've done? Have her tag along as we play Deadshot with those gun-wielding assassins?"

My words merely enraged Phil even more. "Goddammi―"

"Hey!" Lenny interrupted before Phil could launch into another insensible 'You Made My Wife Disappear' harangue. "Chill, man. We're not even sure whether if she's really gone or not. Check the beds, Jarod."

I skipped over to the beds and patted them down, giving the floor beside them a thorough inspection as I did. Still no sign of Tanya at all.