Project: Hero

Chapter six

Sergio leads us to a warehouse that looks like it's on its last legs. A strong gust of wind could easliy knock it over. Kotey notices the look of alarm on my face and rolls his eyes.

Sergio doesn't notice Kotey's reaction but he's been watching me instead, as if the sight of the dilapidated old warehouse was supposed to trigger a memory. There's none but I don't want to disappoint him.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I ask, unable to take the silence.

"Trust me, this is safe," Sergio answers. His voice is somehow able to be comforting and almost condescending at the same time. "Kotey and I have been using this place for months, you were probably still living the life of luxury, princess."

I turn round sharply and tilt my head back to meet his eyes, "Do not call me princess, mooner."

The look in his eyes changes, a dark humour changing his features, "Sorry to burst your bubble, but you're a filthy mooner too. Get a new insult princess."

Sergio starts walking into the darkened hallway, leaving me standing in the filthy streets. I look left and right checking for something - an old habit resurfacing from somewhere - before stepping in.

"What are you waiting for? A red carpet and a fanfare?" That voice is Kotey's, at least someone is still happy.

I bite my lip, I'm going to have to face Sergio sooner or later and I'd rather do it now. It's still light outside, more than enough time for me to -hopefully- find an alley if he decides he's had enough of me.

I freeze with one foot on the rotten stairs. If I ran away I would be proving him right. I would forever be known as Blair 'princess' Stone, the president's daughter - or be killed. I shiver and shake my head to clear it. I can be mature about this. It's just a name designed to get to me. What's a little name-calling when the one doing the name-calling is your only chance at survival?

"C'mon Blair, put your big girl panties on," I mutter to myself, as I climb the stairs. "Don't let him get to you."

I reach the floor where I'm going to be staying with the two guys and my eyes are immediately drawn to the middle of the floor, then I walk in a large circle. Something's wrong. Something's missing.

"Blair?" Sergio asks. I imagine Kotey's rolling his eyes.

"There should be a hole in the floor," I say, my voice soft as I voice the half-forgotten, half-buried thought.

"No, there's not," Kotey says warily.

"That was your warehouse, not ours," Sergio's voice is kind, our earlier argument either forgiven or fotrgotten. "What else can you remember?" With that question some of the kindness is replaced by an urgency I can't explain.

"Nothing, just that there should be ... was a hole in the floor of the last place I stayed in," I rub my closed eyes with my fingertips.

I open my eyes and this time I really see the warehouse. Despite the outside of the building is almost welcoming. Then again the only other place I remember is the jail cell and compared to that everywhere looks welcoming. In the place of the disputed hole is a moutheaten, dust-covered sofa that looks comfortable. Pushed against the walls are boxes of all sizes, each made of cardboard and covered in a thick layer of dust.

Kotey rolls his eyes at me - again, and heads to the pile of the thick and large boxes. My nose twitches and I smell something stale. It's food though and my stomach growls. I can't remember the last time I ate.

"Hungry?" Sergio asks, a touch of a smile on his face.

I nod and my feet take me over to the sofa. It's surprisingly normal as Kotey and Sergio sit next to me. What's not normal is what we're eating. Instant meals, boil-in-the-bag meals. Whatever you want to call them they would seem more at home on a battlefield than a warehouse in the slums.