Always Standing Steady

Earlier The Descent Began

312351UOCT14: October 31, 2014. 2351. Los Angeles, California, United States of America.

Will Fisher would have liked to claim that he was drunk off his ass. He, out of fifteen other guys, was the only one not passed out from beer or meth. It was lonely being the only one still conscious at nine minutes to midnight on Halloween. That there was one of the few times when Will wished that he hadn't fucked up so badly; if only he had never taken the path less traveled by--it would have made all the difference. He could only dream of buying a cheap costume from that seasonal holiday store back home; he would have taken Elle trick or treating--or supervised her Halloween party. He had to remind himself that she was probably too old to trick or treat.

If only he had made different choices. Instead Will wore a pair of torn cargo pants with a vomit stain down one leg--that was from the time he nearly killed that guy in a drunken bar fight--and a T-shirt that had been white about a hundred stains ago. The closest thing he had to a costume was the ski mask from the grocery store dollar bin that he was keeping on the off chance he had to rob a place for gas money. It hasn't come to that: he still had about sixty bucks hidden in the lining of his wallet.

There was the sound of a knock at the door. "Trick or treat," a voice announced from the other side.

"Fuck off," Will shouted.

"Give me candy and I'll leave," the voice promised. There was no way any kid in their right mind would trick or treat in that building. This guy better be smart enough to have a gun or some crack, otherwise he was going to be a dead man with neither.

Will hauled himself off the couch and limped to the door. His right leg had been asleep for the last two days after he took a hit at that club. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen before he opened the door. It wasn't some dumb kid or an old buddy looking for something to get him high.

Standing in the doorway was a tall man in a cheap skeleton costume. When he reached up to remove his mask, he revealed that he was none other than Tom Siteki.

"Fuck off," Will snapped at him and tried to close the door.

Tom put his foot in the way to prevent that. "Your father didn't send me, nor did your mother or anyone else back home. No one knows I'm even here. Actually, someone does." He held up his wrist to show off the watch on it. "How was Paris, William?"

"Not here," Will whispered quickly. "We have to leave."

"If your porn stash is here then we are staying right here," Tom countered. "Listen, this isn't my choice. They know about Mark Avery. They know you have proof. I'm just the messenger here, so give me what you have and we can both go on with our lives."

Will frowned at the watch, "so you saw them too? They only put watches on people who see them. I'll admit, I was flattered when they sent me one to stick on Mark Avery, it meant that they considered me one of them."

"I met the woman behind it," Tom admitted. "She stuck this one on me herself. You never saw them?" He eyed Will's empty wrist.

"No, just got texts and emails. They paid well, so I didn't ask any questions."

"Do you have it or not?" Tom asked again.

"Yeah, not here, though. It's all locked up in a storage unit across the highway. Their idea, not mine."

"Let's go, after you."

"Fine," Will left the apartment ahead of him and led the way down the stairs.

In old buildings like that one elevators were just caskets with the lid in a different place. In that part of town, a body could rot in the basement until the whole thing was ever just bulldozed--if it was ever bulldozed. The stairs were safer.