The Broken and the Brave

Chapter 6: Shortcomings

As I go to take another bite out of my food, I hear a thud outside. Pausing my hand's motion to put food in my mouth, I draw my attention to the sounds around me. I hear the keys jingle from the apartment across from me and more thudding, like grocery bags being set down, but it wasn't the same thud. Indifferently, I continue to eat my scrambled bell pepper and ham.

Thud. Thud.

This time it was at my door. I grip my fork, prepared to stab a bitch as I get up and walk to the door, putting my plate on the floor in front of the sofa chair. I glance through the peephole and see nothing; I definitely don't like that. I still refrain from answering the door, instead, waiting there with my ear tentatively against the door. 

For a moment, it's a quiet hallway, then I hear rustling against the wooden floor and the old brick walls. It is quickly followed with mumbling as if someone is holding their hand over someone's mouth. I mentally sigh to myself, not wanting to deal with this but knowing full well that I will; I position myself in front of my door. I contemplate to myself whether I should really knock down my door right now because I don't want to replace it, but then I throw that thought aside. I'll just deal with that later. Then I remember that the door swings inwards, towards me. 

Well, fuck. Pressing my fingers against the bridge of my nose, I try my best not to groan angrily at myself. 

Quickly opening the door like a peasant, I keep aware of my surroundings as I move through the doorway: one person to my left, four to the right, and all holding weapons. I make note that these people appear to be more like soldiers than your everyday mugging assailants.

I first take out the man to my left, grabbing his weapon and taking out his knee with a swift crunch to its side. I then turn and jab the next person in the face with the butt of the gun. As his body falls to the floor, unconscious, I lunge over him and grab the next rifle that is now starting to point at me. I pull it towards me and knee his groin as he leans towards me. I drop one weapon as I proceed to roundhouse kick the next person. I place both hands on my rifle and swing it forcefully to the neck. 

Taking quick breaths and breaking a mild sweat, I stand there, looking over the five unconscious bodies. The last person I took down seems to be the one that was in charge. Dropping the weapon in my hands, I search her body for a badge but find nothing; they have no uniforms as cops or SWAT would.

There's an urge to pace until I solve this, but I know that will solve nothing. I look over the bodies again, thinking. I rush to the closest body and rip off the left sleeve at the shoulder to expose their skin. Hmm. No markings. I take a large sigh of relief; there's that, at least. However, that still doesn't answer who these people are and why they were here. They were positioned against the wall of my apartment, but they seemed shocked when I opened the door. 

Then it occurs to me. Where's the person that was being held? I heard mumbling earlier. 

"Honey.... are you okay?" An old, raspy voice words. 

I turn to see an apartment door open, with a frail old woman staring upon the scattered bodies. 

"Yes, Mrs. Grantes. Everything is alright," I assure her. Hopefully, she doesn't feel the need to call anyone. 

She shuffles around to return to her abode after giving me a worried glance. 

I go back to my apartment, now thankful that I didn't break down the door. I lean against the countertop of the island, contemplating my next actions. Sighing heavily, I pick up the phone and dial a number that I haven't dialed in a while. 

"You know who it is," I start as soon as I hear the line pick up. "Yeah... Five... No clue... Could you, please?"

I set the phone back down with a grateful click. The bodies will be gone soon then, maybe some answers will be shed, too.