Red - Pt. 1 (Introduction)

In a familiar but different world, with a horrible future…

            A familiar song signified a huge problem as it woke Taylor from her nap in the cool darkened apartment. Her hand fumbled on the wood of the bookshelf, feeling for her glowing phone as it rang. She couldn’t see it at first, unwilling to remove the pillow that covered her head that she had become so acquainted with. She didn’t have to look at the screen to see who was trying to video call her, she knew from the person’s personalized ringtone. Taylor needed to see the image of Paige’s face though to remind her why she didn’t want to answer the phone.

            Putting the phone back where she had found it, the only noise in the apartment now was the roaring of the old window-unit air conditioner. She brushed strands of red hair from her face and nestled back into the pillow while readjusting the blanket over her legs, just the way she liked it. The red glowing numbers of the clock had caught her eyes though just before they closed; 10:10 p.m. on a Thursday night. She could sleep, but there were also a lot of other things that she could be doing if she was going to ignore her best friend.

            Taylor threw the blanket from her and leapt up onto the hardwood floor from her low-sitting mattresses. The wood was cool on her feet, in a calming way that she let overtake her as she stretched and curled her toes, enjoying the feeling with a smile. She reached over to the desk and turned her laptop on. Bent over, checking her e-mail, she glanced back at the bookshelf across the room. Paige hadn’t tried calling back again, which meant she was probably crying right now because there was no one willing to pick up on the other end. Taylor tried not to think about that. She turned the volume as loud as it would go on her attached speakers and let the heavy bass fill her small apartment.

            Her hips began to move to the beat in the small black boy shorts she wore. Smiling, she pushed all of her problems to the side, as long as the music continued. She opened the bathroom door and took a glance in the mirror as she continued to move and even sing along with the music. Reaching over, she turned the shower on, barely missing a beat. The apartment building she lived in was old, so the water would need a minute to warm up. That was alright with Taylor, more time to dance. She reached down and pulled the checkered tank-top up over her head, thrashing her long red hair to each side as she sang, tossing her clothes on top of the pile. She finished her performance in the shower before thanking the imaginary audience and giving the encore while drying off with the towel.

            Taylor’s closet was large, one of the reasons why she didn’t mind her apartment being as small as it was. She browsed her clothes, trying to make a choice with her hair still wrapped up tightly in a second towel atop her head. Tapping her chin, genuinely perplexed by what to wear, she sifted through her underwear drawer after tossing one of several makeup bags onto her bed. She had decided on the black mini skirt with the gray top that she got last Christmas. It would go well with the black jacket with the hood she loved so much from her last trip to Atlanta.  

            Taylor was finishing up her makeup, sitting on the bed. Eyeing her phone for the third time in the past five minutes, she wondered if she should call Paige, her feelings were getting in the way. Nope. There was no reason to. Paige had opened this can of worms all by herself. She needed to stew on that while Taylor took some time to herself. Bestie or not, what had happened was not cool. Stepping back into her closet, she was looking for shoes when she heard the knock at her door. Taylor froze. If that was Paige, if she had come to her apartment unannounced, she would be furious. Maybe this would good though, now they could finally have it out. Paige wasn’t doing herself any favors or making it any easier doing it like this though.

            It was in that moment that she decided to wear the two inch black heels. Those were a gift, and she liked the way they looked on her. The knock came again, louder. She left the heels where they were and stepped out of the closet to the front door, glancing briefly again at the mirror that hung on the inside of the closet door, even if it was Paige.

            “I’m coming, hold on.”

            Stepping up to the door she un-latched the chain and turned the deadbolt that held her door closed. There was a smile, then the silver 9mm that was pulled on her. Taylor would have usually answered the door with the chain still latched if she didn’t know who it was, but she really had thought it was Paige and the frustration with the whole situation had caused her to be careless. It was lucky for her that the man who intended her harm outside the door didn’t seem on his best game either.

            With her hand still on the door, she slammed it on the gun barrel and moved out of the way as a shot fired, lodging breaking through the side panel of the cheaply made bookcase. Taylor cursed loudly, upset that she had not caught the man’s hand in the door as well, and that she would need a new bookcase. She let up on the door, not wanting him out in the hallway where he could shoot someone else. The assailant took her up on the offer, pushing in halfway, but she was ready. Launching herself almost off her feet, Taylor slammed her head into the older man’s face, breaking his nose.

            He grunted, raising the gun again as he tried to angle it. Her elbow kept it back as her free hand punched him in the throat. The door fell open and Taylor pulled him inside, slamming the door. She turned and brought her bare heel across his face with a kick that sent spit and blood flying.

            “You know I just cleaned!”

            His jacket fell open as he tried to reach for the gun again. He was an older man with a jumpsuit for some local business. The label said his name was Sanders, but that was probably not the case anymore. Taylor fell on him, straddling, her knees pressing his arms down so he couldn’t reach the gun, couldn’t hurt her or anyone else. She reached across with a precise lean to grab the pen from her desk.

            “Which one of them sent you,” she demanded. “Which one of them do you work for?”

            The thing beneath her looked back up with an almost blank stare. It struggled to push her off, but wasn’t strong enough. It wasn’t going to answer. It didn’t know anything.

            “Right, why did I even ask,” she questioned herself.

            Taylor raised the pen with her right arm as her left hand grabbed what hair was available on the man and held it still. The writing instrument came down into one of the glossy eyes, shattering it, and then in the other. For a brief moment Taylor’s small dimly lit apartment erupted into a bright blue light as Sanders’ body vanished from beneath her.

            “Really,” Taylor complained out loud to no one. “On top of everything else going on this week? I need a vacation.”