THE VICKERS

Chapter 18

We arrived back at the broken-down house that we'd called home for two months.

It looked just the way we left it, as much as I could see in early morning. We had ditched the car about a mile away and walked the rest of the distance. I was beat.

My legs were like blocks of lead as we walked around to the side of the house where the window well was located. Devin scaled down the wall first and dropped the duffel bag we had carried from Tino's on the ground. I followed tentatively, my weary eyes making it a little harder to focus.

"Get behind me," he commanded, pulling out the gun he took from the park guy from his waist. I didn't understand why.

He slid down into the basement easily. The window had been broken. I crouched down to look in. It was completely black. I reached into the bag and snatched a flashlight.

"Devin!" I whispered not so softly. He spun around quickly and pointed the gun at me. He was very on edge.

"Uh...flashlight?" He exhaled loudly and lowered the weapon.

He grabbed it from me and I knew he wasn't pleased. It lit up the room just enough for Devin to see a few feet in front of him.

He scanned the room with the light and it was clear that someone had been there. The mattresses were flipped over; everything was knocked off the table and scattered onto the ground.

The drawers were all pulled out and their contents scattered on the floor. I had my suspicions as to what they were looking for. And more importantly who was looking for it.

"Whoever was here, they're long gone by now," Devin surmised.

"Be careful of the glass," he advised as I hopped in through the broken window.

"Do you think it was the police when they were looking for us?" I asked, flipping over the thin lumpy mattress I slept uncomfortably on for many nights.

"Maybe, I don't know," he said turning over an old office chair we'd found last week and sitting on it. He put the gun in his lap and rubbed at his temple. He must have been more exhausted than I ever was, with all the fighting he's been doing.

"Is it me? Or does this seem personal?" I asked still wandering around the room, trying to put things back to normal. Whatever our version of normal was, I needed it.

"It does. And I know we've pissed off quite a lot of people; cops, gang members, drug dealers, ex-boyfriends; and that's just Dahlia," he responded rubbing his eyes. I chuckled to myself. Not because it was funny but I think the lack of sleep was making me delirious.

"Why did we come back here?" I asked while I put back the drawers in their rightful spot.

He sighed heavily. He pondered his words as if he was carefully selecting them.

"I, we need to come up with a plan and figure out who did this." I'm not sure that he was telling me the whole truth but I didn't press him.

"Well we know it's not Gills, and Tino doesn't know anything, which is a shock to me because Tino's supposed to knows everything," I stated as I finally took a seat on my mattress.

The mere fact that even he was in the dark about what's going on scares me.

"Tino." Devin scuffed as if the name of his former friend was bitter on his tongue.

"You know you never told me about what happened between the two of you. You guys were thick as thieves, literally. And then after we left, you know who, things changed. Why?"