On a bench in front of an exhibition of scientific studies and a couple of fossil displays, Isha rested the phone to her ear, hearing a hoarse voice coming over the line. There were words but Isha refused to digest them.
"Mom, I've got class in a few minutes. I've got to go."
So as to avoid any objections, Isha ended the call and sighed. What did we go over last time? Sections of the brain? Aggression? Perhaps the flight-or-fight response? Was cortisol involved?
Isha focused on racking her brain for material from the previous class lessons.
Ulyana came and rested on the wall beside the bench. Today she decided to wear a long dress that stopped at her ankles. It was decorated with yellow and white flowers. A leather purse hung on her arm.
"Feeling alright?" Ulyana asked, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm just stressing about what'll happen in the next twenty minutes. This professor really likes to shoot pop quizzes at random." Isha whined.
"In high school, they didn't seem so excited to catch you off guard as these educators." Ulyana concurred.
Isha snickered. "When I was in high school, it was a mixed bag. Sometimes they'd give us the courtesy of an advanced warning.
"They must be going soft on you all."
Ulyana couldn't deny Isha's claim wholly.
"Oh yeah, what were you and your mom talking about? Sounds like you two were in a deep conversation." Ulyana curiously inquired.
"... nothing important."
... They sounded... then again, I only heard a few seconds of the conversation. But when Isha told her mother she had to go... Isha's response forced Ulyana to rethink the relationship that Isha had with her mother. The talk specifically lacked the proper goodbye.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated violently, threatening to shake out of her purse. Checking her screen, Ulyana's expression turned solemn and frightened.
"What's that all about?" Isha peered at Ulyana's screen. A message flashed on her phone. It was from an app the college used to alert students about the surrounding neighborhoods regarding any danger. Most of the time, students didn't pay much attention to burglary or assault. If homicide occurred, it'd be concerning but not worth being too vigilant at night.
This time, the update was shocking enough that Isha forgot about class.
Around Collins Drive, multiple bodies were discovered Saturday night! They were all shot. Police concluded that a shootout had occurred, but they had yet to determine the cause. At first, they assumed a deal had gone wrong but all of them were a part of the Neon Nobles gang.
"That gang is here too?" Isha rhetorically asked.
"Here... too?" Since she was from another state, Ulyana knew nothing of the Neon Nobles or the Golden Pythons.
"... The Golden Pythons are mostly in the county over and in the city, Little Stone. The Neon Nobles though, they're new generation criminals. Extremely reckless and haphazard. Don't associate yourself with them and you'll be fine."
Ulyana nodded to signal understanding.
~
Abby sat in front of Hansley Hall, writing on graph paper while glancing at an open textbook for reference. The wind wasn't strong today, so she didn't have to worry much about losing her spot, though she kept a small rock on top of the pages just in case a sudden gust swept through.
On the pages were instructions with graphs and lines. Dots and letters resting underneath such as 'X', 'Y', 'A', etc.
As soon as she heard shoes clacking against the brick path, Abby spared a glance. Luckily, she wasn't disappointed at who it was.
"I thought I'd be able to finish this." Abby exhaled, a new frustration apparent.
Azhir walked over and regarded the textbook, face placid.
"Math?" His voice was even, almost fatigued at the mere sight of technical knowledge.
"One of my favorite subjects actually." She presented a smile, a real one. Yet, Azhir's stoic expression didn't change.
"Sure." He wasn't impressed.
"So, I get stuck with the boring one again. And I thought you'd enjoy math with it being so absolute and fixed, reading equations in your spare time." Abby found his distaste intriguing.
Azhir tilted his head. "Too fixed for me. Too many rules and functions to follow." To the contrary of his reaction, Azhir's skills in arithmetic were exceptional. In fact, in every grade, Azhir never scored below an A minus in the subject.
Easing a dread from his expression, he starts walking, expecting Abby to fall in behind.
Unhurriedly, she tosses the rock into the bushes and stuffs her textbook in her backpack.
"Apparently, whoever the supplier is knows there's someone looking for him. Just not whom." Abby slung her backpack on, arms slipping into the straps effortlessly.
"Most likely, he suspected but that ambush wasn't the result of mere speculation." Azhir reasoned. Did the supplier support them?
"After all those bodies, it's all but confirmed. And considering where you shot them, he'll know that it wasn't police officers."
"It's the most efficient way to end a life. Precise and quick."
"When have you ever been concerned about what these assholes feel? They're probably the reason someone's having it hard right now. Struggling with bills, traumatized from assault, a funeral..." Abby's self-justifications didn't sway Azhir. Besides, who am I to judge? At least you're aware of that dipshit.
His mouth twitched, but it was quickly suppressed. "Imagine being in a dark room and knowing that if the lights go out, you die. The doors are locked and there's no weapon or tool for you to use to escape, so you know you're going to die. Would you rather the lights shut off, or would you rather they dim for fifteen minutes?" Azhir kept his gaze ahead.
"I may be a monster, but I'm not a sadist." I am. Azhir gritted his teeth at the internal singsong.
"Really?" Abby gibed as she waved at a random student.
"That's not what I've heard at all, Azhir. Guess they must've exaggerated.
"Well, we need to find a member of the Neon Nobles. Perhaps they can provide some clues to who exactly met with this supplier. If we're really lucky, we can find the person in direct contact with the supplier."
"We won't need to look too far, though we have to be careful about it." Azhir surveyed the campus as Abby shot him a puzzled look, then he eyes widened in realization and remembrance.
~
The late afternoon atmosphere brought about a quiet house. Down the hall, Aisha laid in her bed, mouth slightly open with her thumb near her mouth, snoring slightly abnormally for a child.
On the couch, Jeanna rested her head on Derek's shoulder as he navigated the variety of shows on the app. She moaned as she nuzzled in the crook of his neck.
"So, when will you go back?" Jeanna reluctantly asked.
"Tomorrow in the evening I'll be heading out. Think I'll be going outside of some neighboring states this time around." Derek finally landed on a show.
"Could you have picked a better job?"
"Truck drivers make good money. Sure, we aren't rich but it's better than both of us working full time as some low-wage slave."
"But you're away for so damn long. I'd rather have you here."
Derek shook his head. "No, you wouldn't. We'd be having a fight every other day, and you'd be calling me lazy."
Jeanna bit her tongue. She opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it. She isn't certain. Why is it always fifty-fifty with these women? From her expression, Derek seemed to grasp her thought process.
"... this is just how we have to operate for now." Derek surmised.
"Aisha needs you around." Momentarily, Jeanna lifted her head up to gaze at her husband.
"Sure, the money gives us what we need but... does that mean you have to sacrifice time with your family? You think she needs to grow up like this?" Jeanna urged him to consider.
At a loss for words, Derek took a moment to gather himself, his thoughts constructing justifications to give but he couldn't find one to immediately counter Jeanna's argument. Yet, he'd find one later. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Guess we'll continue this later.
Already expecting him to take the call, Jeanna sighed and stared at the TV as he rose and walked to a secluded spot in the house. Despite the discussion, Derek managed to bury it for this person.
"Why are you calling?" Derek accused.
"Meet me at Patterson College." A masculine voice came over the phone.
~
Scrolling through his phone for news, Sean's eyes took a particular note of one. Eight dead in a house near the Patterson College campus? No way they all killed one another. He searched for details but the most he found was the mention of each victim being shot.
Then, a knock came at the door. Sean leered past the curtains, hoping to identify the individual but he couldn't latch onto anything.
Heaving a sigh, Sean walked to the door and opened it. His face instantly communicated vexation.
"I haven't told you or Carson anything, and I'd rather not spend time around you that I don't have to." Sean growled.
Zuri placed both hands on her hips as she strutted past him.
"Please, as if you don't like being in a little squad like a cop." Zuri composedly sat on the bed, her hand running over the comforter lightly.
"I'm far from a cop." Sean rebutted.
"Do us both a favor and leave."
"For what, Sean? I'm here to ensure that you're not slacking off and thinking of a better way for us to tackle these low lives." Zuri smiled.
Sean stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed.
"The low lives shouldn't be a concern. Only the drug and where the drug came from." Sean reiterated. Zuri's eyes flexed. They told us to find the supplier of the drug. They never said anything about retrieving or concerning ourselves with the drug itself.
"So, great leader. What's the plan?" Zuri mocked.
"Keep as little contact with me as possible." Sean didn't acknowledge Zuri's teasing. "When things need to happen, I'll update you two. Otherwise, if Carson has another plan, we can hear him out."
Zuri scoffed. "You're such an arrogant human." She pushed off the bed and closed the distance.
"You shouldn't even be here. The Agency may have improved some things about you, and I'll admit you're more useful now... but you're still beneath me." Her voice brooked no argument.
Sean took one step back, appearing surprised.
"There's a few things we could do..." Zuri eased his hair aside.
"A more formal gang war creates chaos. It'll get people talking, and sooner or later, the gang will find out their leaders. Eventually, we'll find the supplier. Or we can use a hostage, but I doubt that would have any effect." Zuri reached behind Sean.
"You're a brave cutie... but I know you don't want to die." Her hand hovered low behind him. Sean panted, eyes wide. Zuri smirked.
"Whatever we do, I promise that you won't be at the center. I've some experience in this so wouldn't it be better? I can keep you safe..." Zuri parted her lips.
For a split second, Sean seemed willing, letting his guard down. But there was a scuff sound and cold metal touched Zuri's chin. Sean's expression was stoic.
"I've already dealt with enough bullies in high school, but they were never as persistent as you." Sean said. Zuri flinched, causing Sean to press the muzzle more into her chin more as his expression cracked.
"Let me make this clear. I hate people like you. A bunch of irredeemable selfish monsters who enjoy the suffering of others for the mere feeling of some abstract high ground. They sent you because you have the muscle. Your arrogance is too prominent. You lost the boy you could touch a year ago. This time, I have no qualms about emptying the magazine into your skull.
"You hold nothing over me, and I will kill you like I did him."
Sean kept the muzzle there to solidify his threat, staring into Zuri's crimson irises.