Zero Day

Chapter 5

The dim light filtering through the basement window cast a weak glow over Cliff as he lay in Joey's brother's bed. Hours had passed since the chaos of the previous night, but the tension in the air lingered, thick and suffocating. Cliff stirred, wincing as pain shot through his right arm, now tightly bandaged. He blinked, slowly waking up, the events of the night before replaying in his mind like a bad dream.

His eyes adjusted to the faint light, and he glanced down at his arm, the bandages already starting to bleed through. The memory of the fight with Mr. Bates's men flashed in his mind, the dull ache in his arm a reminder of just how close he had come to death. "Joey?" he called out, his voice raspy and weak. The room was silent, save for the distant creaking of the old house settling.

Cliff swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself to his feet. The room spun slightly as he stood, his body still exhausted from the night before. He made his way up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. When he reached the kitchen, the sight of dried blood splattered across the floor brought everything back in stark clarity. He paused, taking in the scene, before calling out again, "Joey?"

There was no response.

A knot of anxiety twisted in his gut as he walked over to the kitchen window. The daylight was harsh, almost blinding after the darkness of the basement. He scanned the backyard, but Joey was nowhere to be seen. The silence was unnerving, the kind that made his skin crawl. Cliff's gaze drifted toward the garage, and a cold sense of dread settled in his chest.

He stepped outside, the cold air biting at his skin, and made his way toward the garage. The door creaked as he pushed it open, the sound grating on his already frayed nerves. Inside, the garage was dim, the only light coming from the cracked door. His eyes quickly fell on a wooden chair in the center of the room, a piece of torn cloth dangling from it as if someone had been tied up and managed to escape.

"What the hell...?" Cliff muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a step back, ready to leave, but before he could react, something slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground.

The man Cliff had beaten senseless the night before was on him in an instant, his face twisted in rage. The two of them wrestled on the cold concrete floor, each struggling for dominance. The pain in Cliff's arm flared, but he pushed through it, adrenaline surging through his veins. With a surge of strength, Cliff managed to shove the man off him, quickly getting on top and wrapping his hands around the man's throat.

"Where's Joey?" Cliff demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

The man's eyes widened, a glint of fear flashing across them, but he sneered, refusing to answer. "Who?" he croaked, his voice strained under the pressure of Cliff's grip.

"You know who I'm talking about!" Cliff tightened his hold, his anger boiling over. "Where is he?!"

The man gasped for air, his face turning red as he struggled against Cliff's grip. "Where is he, you motherfucker?!" Cliff shouted, his fury reaching a breaking point. The man tried to speak, but Cliff's hands were cutting off his air, his breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. Without thinking, Cliff raised his fist and drove it into the man's face, over and over, his rage consuming him.

"Holy shit!" Joey's voice rang out, snapping Cliff back to reality. Cliff looked up, breathless, and saw Joey standing in the doorway, his face pale with shock.

"Where the fuck were you?" Cliff spat, still straddling the man beneath him.

"I just barely got him tied up," Joey replied, his voice shaky as he took in the scene.

Cliff glanced at the torn piece of cloth dangling from the chair, his expression hardening. "You used that and expected it to hold?" he snapped, his frustration evident.