Highbridge Rising | #ONC2024

Chapter Eight-The Hammer

"But Camila, we won't be able to play cops together without the other one," Tio whined, his frustration spewing out like a volcano ready to erupt any minute. I rummaged through his bag in search of the elusive yellow Pokémon walkie-talkie.

Monica stood beside him, her patience a silent anchor amidst Tio's growing desperation. I shifted through the contents of his bag, hoping to salvage this situation. Action figures and crayons yielded nothing but disappointment, leaving my brother on the brink of a meltdown. Mornings were clearly not his forte.

"Hey, at least we've got the movie," I offered, holding up Talladega Nights in a feeble attempt to lift his spirits.

But Tio's eyes, heavy with sadness, met mine with a profound sense of disappointment. His plans for a fun day with his friend had crumbled before his eyes. Glancing at the time on my phone, I realized with a sinking feeling that it was already 9;15 AM, and another text from Sammy asking my whereabouts. My stomach grumbled at the thought of missing out on breakfast with the girls.

After staying up late the previous night, I had found myself engrossed in a conversation with Sammy, reliving every moment with Dominic and sharing every last detail of the evening's gossip.

"Could you go and get it?" Tio's plea hung in the air, laden with desperation.

I winced, a surge of pain stabbing at the center of my brain as I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I can't, Tio. I'm already running late," I explained, the urgency in my voice betraying my frazzle state.

Monica, ever the soothing presence, knelt down beside him, her gentle touch a comforting reassurance. "How about you guys watch the movie now while I cook up some pancakes and bacon?" she suggested, her voice infused with warmth.

"I think that's a great idea," I chimed in, offering a smile of agreement.

His bowed head tugged at my heartstrings. "Okay," he murmured softly, his voice heavy with resignation.

His word giving me the green light to leave for the elevators, I glanced back one last time, offering a final wave to Monica and my baby brother. Tio's gaze locked onto mine, silently pleading, and for a moment, I hesitated, torn between staying to console him and racing against the ticking clock.

But as my panic surged anew, fueled by the relentless march of time, I knew I had to press on. With a heavy heart, I squared my shoulders, griping tightly around my purse, and forced myself to walk away.

Stepping through the back door, the biting chill of the morning air enveloped me, sending a shiver all over. The sound of sirens pierced through my ears, their wails echoing off the walls of our colossal building. Glancing to my right, I caught sight of two police cars tearing down West Street, their flashing lights painting streaks of red and blue as they zoomed on by.

It was a scene I'd grown accustomed to, the relentless pursuit of justice playing out before me day after day. But tonight felt different, an unsettling unease sunk in the pit of my stomach as I surveyed the desolate streets. There was an eerie absence, a conspicuous lack of life that left me on edge. Even the homeless man who often sought refuge by our dumpsters, his ramblings about the impending apocalypse a familiar backdrop to our daily lives, was nowhere to be found.

Making my way across the parking lot, I scanned the rows of cars, searching from my beaten- up white hooptie. Fumbling for my phone, I dialed Sammy's number, praying she hadn't left for gas or some other errand. The phone rang incessantly in my ear, each unanswered ring amplifying the growing sense of dread gnawing at my insides. I surely would hear it from my boss later.

Amidst the persistent ringing, another sound began to intrude, a discordant symphony of ringtones echoing through the morning air.

With Sammy's voicemail greeting into my ear, the ringing outside abruptly ceased, replaced by the hollow silence of unanswered calls. Dialing her number again, I followed the trail of sound, each step bringing me closer to the source.