Hunting Red

“Run!”

Holding the small ziplock bag of white powder in my hand, I took off running through the dark parking garage, trying to shake the cop that was following me.

“Hey! You there! Stop!”

I didn’t stop, but pumped my legs faster and turned the corner, using the downhill slope to my advantage. He caught me at ground level anyway, as he was larger than me, and I flung the bag as hard as I could under one of the cars as I was tackled to the ground. My hands were forced behind my back and cuffed before I was roughly hauled back to my feet.

The cop behind me called over his shoulder to one of his companions, “she threw something over there, go get it.” Obviously a rookie cop. As the second cop made his way past me, I tripped him and elbowed the one behind me in the gut. Then I ran again, slightly hindered with my hands behind my back. By the time they recovered, I was out of sight again.

A black SUV pulled up and opened the door, and I jumped in without thinking, as it blocked off my exit. “Where’s the blow?” Oh shit. The door slammed and the van sped off.

"I lost it," I mumbled irritably, looking out the window. One of the guys uncuffed me, and I thanked him.

"You can't be part of this crew if you keep losing the product," the driver said, peeling out of the garage. "We'll try again tomorrow. It's your final chance, Red."

"Yeah, fine," I murmured. "Thanks. I didn't expect the cops to show." The SUV dropped me off in front of Gran's, where I lived.

"Always expect the cops to show. Some one will give you the next batch in the morning. Just make sure it gets delivered to the recipient this time." The door shut on me and the SUV was off again, disappearing down the end of the street. I sighed. Time to make an excuse to Gran. I stumbled in the house, and my Gran was on me like a harpy.

"Where have you been all evening, missy?" Gran brandished her wooden spoon.

"I was hanging out with friends," I replied, rolling my eyes. I knew my friends would cover for me if I needed it. They always did. "I lost track of time, sorry."

"You'll be sorry one of these days," Gran hissed, shaking her spoon again before returning to the kitchen. "You're only sixteen, and drugs are rampant here in New York," she explained.

"I know. I'm gonna go do my homework now," I told her. "Holler when dinner's done." Before she could respond I skipped up the stairs and slid my backpack off my shoulder. It landed on the floor next to my desk, and I booted up my laptop to start my homework. I was so behind.

I ended up working late into the night, and Gran brought dinner to me. Shortly after she went to bed, I got a text message. Same place, same time tomorrow night. I was surprised they wanted the exchange in the same place, since cops were probably now swarming the area. Whatever. I'd make it work. Finally around 2am, I flung myself onto my bed and fell asleep. The next morning, I woke up late and dashed out of the house so I wouldn't hear Gran complain. She'd probably woken me up twice already. I made it to the bus stop in time, and there was a man across the street who nodded at me. Leaving the couple of other kids that were also waiting, I crossed the street to the man, who gave me a small bag of blow.

"Remember, it's your last chance. Drop-off should be around 7pm." I nodded.

"Got it. I won't screw up this time." I put the blow in my bag carefully then crossed the street back to the bus stop, just as the bus was pulling up. Emma was already on board, so I sat next to her.

"Who was that, Red?"

I laughed and set my bag on the floor. "Nobody important."

"Don't tell me you're selling again," she accused.

I shrugged. "I could use the funds. There's winter formal to think about."

"You're such a rebel," she told me. The bus drove off and headed towards the school. "You know you're going to get caught with it. Today is locker and bag inspections."

I cursed, having forgotten about that. "I'll just put it in my pocket then, I said opening up my bag. "Shit," I mumbled, looking inside my bag and seeing that the bag of blow had opened and spilled all over my stuff. There was no getting it back, or clean. They'd dump me for sure for this. The bus arrived, and I immediately went to the bathroom to wash off as much as I could before class started. There was no way I was getting it all out. It was everywhere. I zipped up my bag, admitting defeat, and went to my locker to wait for the inevitable hammer to fall.

~~~

“This isn’t a game, Red. You won’t graduate, and you’ll end up in Juvenile Hall until you’re 18,” Agent Davidson said, pressing his hands against the table and looking at me trying to get a confession. I leaned away, tilting the metal chair onto it’s back two legs, and looked around the interrogation room. Agent Davidson sighed. “Just tell me who gave you the drugs. You could go to prison for having cocaine on your person. You are underage, but there’s nothing saying you couldn’t be tried as an adult for possession.”

I blew a raspberry, and landed the chair flat on the ground again. “It isn’t mine,” I insisted. “And my name is Sierra. Only my close friends get to call me Red.” I shifted my favorite red jacket and pulled the hood up over my dark brown braided hair, refusing to look at the cop.

“I have to book you until a judge can see you,” he told me, standing up straight again. I harrumphed, and kept my eyes down. Agent Davidson shook his head, and left the room. I folded my arms. Stupid school inspections. I knew I should have left the drugs at Gran’s today. Crossing my legs and tapping my foot in the air, I glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room. Seeing that the cop had left a pen and paper, I leaned forward and began to doodle. It was sometime before Agent Davidson returned. He inhaled deeply, before pulling out a chair and sitting across from me and looking at my scribbles.

“Alright, the judge says to put you on house arrest for now, so you’ll only be allowed at home and at school. The judge is also fining you $1000, and you’ll have 20 hours of community service to do,” Agent Davidson said, pulling the paper away from me. I tossed the pen at him.

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Can I leave now?”

“As soon as we get your ankle bracelet on. You are allowed to go home without escort, but you need to go straight home. Do you understand?” Agent Davidson held up the device.

I tilted my chair back again, placing my right leg on the table. “Hurry up already.”

He lifted the hem of my jeans and clicked the bracelet on, locking it. Agent Davidson gave me a stern glare. “I mean it, Red. Straight home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. Agent Davidson escorted me out to the lobby, where I was given my backpack and phone they had taken earlier. Rolling my eyes again, I shook off Agent Davidson and left through the front door into the pounding rain. Taxis sped past the station without a care, but I didn’t bother with them. Not like I had cash anyways, thanks to the school. I skipped down the few steps of the station entrance and turned left. New York City was loud, but I liked it that way. I had nowhere else to be but home, so I headed in the direction of Gran’s house. Gran was going to lose her shit, I thought. Stupid drugs. Stupid bracelet. A few blocks from home, I ran into a group of my friends. I walked up to the circle and bummed a cigarette from Blaine.

“How bad was it, Red?” Jason offered his lighter to me, and I took it, lighting the smoke and inhaling deeply before handing it back. I lifted the hem of my jeans to show my ankle bracelet. The group groaned.

“At least they didn’t try you as an adult,” Emma said.

“They still could; I have a hearing at the end of the month. Oh, and I’m supposed to head straight home,” I said, mimicking Agent Davidson’s stern voice. Everyone laughed. I took another drag, letting the nicotine calm me as I exhaled.

Lauren spoke up. “Do you have to do time too, or just the house arrest?”

I thought about it. “Just house arrest for now, thankfully. Gloomy out, isn’t it?” She looked around as the rain let up to a light drizzle.

“Who were the drugs for?” Blaine asked.

I looked to Aiden and shrugged. “Sorry man; I didn’t think they’d pull locker and bag inspections today.”

“S’alright,” Aiden mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “I’ll get it another way.”

Jason punched Aiden playfully on the shoulder. “Seriously dude?”

“The cash would have been nice though; Gran needs more meds.” I took another puff. “Speaking of which, I probably should head home. I’m not usually this late.”

“Me too,” Emma agreed. “I should be home for dinner about now.”

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket to see who it was from. I didn’t recognize the number. You should have listened. I frowned and texted back. Who is this? The response was immediate.

You should have gone home. I rolled my eyes.

Okay, Agent Davidson. I’m going home now, I swear.

I pocketed my phone and said goodbye to my friends. I continued down the next two streets and went up the two blocks to my grandmother’s rundown townhouse in the pouring rain. But when I got there, I stopped dead in my tracks. The front door was open.

I climbed up the front steps cautiously and looked around, seeing no one. I called into the dark house. “Hello?” There was no response. “Gran?” I pulled out my phone again and saw a new message. You’re too late now. She’s gone. I sighed, trying not to panic, and cautiously stepped into the house, closing the door behind me. Agent Davidson, this isn’t funny, I texted back.

This isn’t Agent Davidson.

Who was this freak? I dialed the police department. “NYPD, what’s your emergency?”

“I think someone broke into my grandma’s house. I just got back from the station, and my front door was wide open.” I bit her lip. “I’m inside the front door now.”

“Okay. Don’t do anything else, please. I’m sending units to your address now. What’s your name?” The lady sounded bored, and there was key tapping in the background. I told her the required information: Sierra Campbell, sixteen years old, high school sophomore, and my address. “All right. Go slowly through the house, and don’t touch anything. Tell me what’s missing.”

I moved into the kitchen, walked around, and walked out again. “Kitchen’s clear.” She moved into the living room. Everything was untouched. “Living room is clear.” I walked back out to the main entrance and went up the stairs. Was it colder up here? I put her phone on speaker and walked into my room. After inspecting everything closely, I muttered, “My room’s clear too.”

The lady huffed. “Are you sure this is a break-in? You’re in our system for cocaine possession. Are you high?”

“No! And for the last time, the drugs weren’t—” My phone beeped and the call dropped. “Fuck!” Taking a deep breath, I decided to check on Gran, who’d been silently missing. “Gran?” I walked across the hall to Gran’s room and knocked on the door. There was no answer. “Gran,” I called again. “Please be sleeping; I’m coming in.” I turned the doorknob and my phone buzzed. Pausing and thinking it might be the cops, I pulled out my phone and read another message.

Delicious.

What the actual fuck did that mean? I pocketed my phone, opened the door and flipped on the light. Gran lay there in the middle of the room, in a pool of her own blood. The scene hit me like a freight train. Entrails were strewn across the room, and Gran’s throat had been ripped out. I couldn’t stop staring. I couldn’t unsee the room, or move to close the door from the horrific sight.

When the cops arrived, they had to carry me outside because I was unresponsive. Sitting in the back of the patrol car, I twitched as the initial shock began to wear off. Someone had murdered Gran. I blinked a few times, realizing about the text messages. Quickly I pulled out my phone. I had a new message.

Beautiful, don’t you think?

Suddenly filled with rage, I texted back. You’ll pay for what you did. I’ll find you somehow. The response was immediate.

Not if I don't find you first. You’re next.

The door to the patrol car opened and an officer squatted down beside me. “Hey, I’m Officer Black. How are you holding up?” I looked at him, and handed him my phone. He riffed through the messages, then looked back at me. “Can I borrow this?”

I nodded. “I want it back though.” He walked away. I could run, I thought, seeing that he left the door open, but then decided against it. Officer Black got into the front of the patrol car and started documenting the text messages for evidence. Then he took the document over to forensics, or at least that’s what I figured. I'd seen enough crime scene shows on TV to know they did forensics.

When he came back, he told me that I needed to go back to the station for questioning. Ugh. Here we go again. All I could do was nod. It wasn't as if I had a choice, and right now, I needed to be around people. Was my life going to be spent behind bars now? I realized, in shock, that I could be blamed for this. No, I told myself. I had an alibi. They’d know she was dead before I got home. It was a short and quiet ride back to the police station. The more I lingered on what I had seen, the more paranoid I became. What if Officer Black was the killer?

No, I decided, that was nonsense. He'd seen the creepy text messages, and he knew this was something I wouldn't do. Wouldn't he? Even though Gran had always been hard on me, I never wanted her dead. Especially not like this. Officer Black escorted me into the station and led me into an interrogation room. Back at square one, I thought, sitting down in the chair and leaning it back again. He sat down across from me, holding my phone.

"What makes you think these messages came from Special Agent Davidson?"

I paused. "Because he told me I needed to go straight home after I was released earlier today."

Officer Black pursed his lips and hummed. "Do you have any idea who would want to hurt you or your grandmother?"

I shook my head. "I don't feel safe going back there."

"Is there anyone else you can stay with?"

"Is it safe to stay with someone else? The killer said he's coming for me next," I argued.

Officer Black hummed again. "Well, obviously it isn't safe to stay at your grandma's. Not without protection, anyway. I suppose we can book you for the night --"

"No. I want to sleep in my own bed."

Officer Black nodded. "All right, I'll have a patrol car stationed outside the home." He paused. "Are you going to be okay?"

I nodded and stood to stretch. "Can I have my phone back now?"

Officer Black stood as well. "Sure. We traced the number, but it went to a burner phone. Whoever this killer is, he's smart." He cracked his neck. "If you get anymore messages from him, let us know."

"Yeah, okay." I pushed my chair in. "As much as I've loved being here in the station all day, I have homework to get done for tomorrow."

"Stay out of that room, okay? I would hate for you to be implicated further than you already are," Officer Black explained. He pushed his chair in too and handed me my phone. I didn't respond, even though I knew saying thank you would have been the right thing to do. Perhaps I was still in shock. "I can have a car take you home. I don't want you wandering the streets this late; the killer may still be nearby." I nodded, and followed him out of the interrogation room. It probably wasn't safe to walk home with a killer on the loose. Who would want to kill Gran? The car ride back was both quick and silent, but I was okay with that. My mind was reeling, trying to figure out who could have done such a thing. I needed to see the room again. The officers that dropped me off told me they'd be just across the street if I needed anything. I mumbled a thanks, and was let out of the car.

Gran's house seemed dark and intimidating, but I forced myself up the steps and let myself into the townhouse. I flipped the switch on, and I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the door. What if the killer was still in the house? The cops searched the place, right? The house seemed to be empty, but I grabbed a knife from the kitchen anyway and searched all the downstairs rooms and closets. Moving upstairs, I looked in the bathroom and my room and closet, before crossing the hall to Gran's room. It was taped off.

My phone rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Chastising myself, I pulled my phone out and looked at the caller ID. It was Aiden. I answered it. "Hey Red, were all those cops at your house earlier? What happened?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Gran was murdered."

Silence on the phone. "Oh, shit. For real? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied, letting out a breath. "I'm a bit hyped up since the killer is coming after me next."

Aiden whistled. "How do you know? Did the killer leave a note?"

"He texted me earlier, when we were hanging out."

"How'd this creep even get your number?"

I sighed. "No clue. Cops say it was a burner phone. But hey, I got homework, so I'll see you tomorrow at school, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll be there. I want to know all the gory details." I rolled my eyes but smiled. Aiden was a horror fanatic, and loved gruesome tales. He said goodbye and hung up. I pocketed my phone and took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was inside Gran's room. Cautiously, I opened the door and flipped the light on. There was a dark red stain on the carpet where Gran used to lay, and I kept seeing her there out of the corner of my eye as I looked around the room. There were flecks of blood spatter everywhere; across the furniture and walls. The forensic teams didn't bother to clean it up. I didn't even know if Gran had fought her attacker. It looked like an animal had massacred her.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was an animal attack. But I did know better. Animals, real animal predators, couldn't text. Whoever had done this was human. I made sure the window in Gran's room was locked, being careful to not step on the stains or touch anything that didn't need to be, and closed the room up again. Whoever it was, was gone now. I went back down the stairs, feeling a little bolder, and grabbed a bag of chips out of the pantry. Taking the knife and the chip bag up to my room, I locked my door and set the knife on the nightstand. Then, because I was paranoid, I moved my dresser in front of my locked door. I opened the bag of chips and ate a few mindlessly, searching my mind for anyone who would want to do Gran in.

I came up with nothing. I decided to do my homework and focus on the killer tomorrow. Finally opening my now cleaned backpack, I dumped everything out and found a tracking device among my stuff. Who would do that? "Seriously?! What the fuck," I mumbled under my breath as I opened my window and chucked the device out. I shut the window, feeling a little nerve-wrecked. "It's okay, you're okay," I told myself, tearing up. I forced my tears back.

I pulled out my laptop and textbooks and worked on my homework. I must have been afraid to fall asleep, because I finished it all, even the stuff that wasn't due yet. Around 1am, my phone went off. Looking at it, I immediately realized it was the killer, even though it was from a different number. You smell wonderful. Eww, what a creep, I thought. I texted back: What are you? The response was immediate.

What, indeed. Very insightful of you. What do you think I am?

A monster, I wanted to say. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction, so instead I replied, Beats me. Why don't you tell me, so I know what to tell the cops outside.

Oh, dearest, they'll never reach you in time.

That made me angry and scared. I'd checked the entire house. No one else was inside. This house is locked down. You aren't getting in.

What if I huff and puff? What, like the big bad wolf from the three little pigs?

Okay, I'll bite. Are you the big bad wolf?

Yes. Knock, knock, little piggy. I jumped as there was a banging on one of the downstairs doors. Oh no you don't. I threw on my red hoodie, grabbed my knife and backpack full of completed homework, and switched off the lights, listening hard. At first, there was nothing but silence, but then--

BANG. CRASH.

There was muffled noise, indicating to me that someone, or something, was in the house. Trying not to panic, I opened my window as quietly as I could and climbed out onto the platform before shutting the window again. I could hear the thing clambering up the stairs, and I ducked below the window ledge and crawled to the fire escape. I dropped the ladder and swung myself onto it as I heard a closer noise.

Thud. CRASH.

He'd broken into my room. Run, I told myself. Run now. I slid down the ladder and took off running, not looking back. Where to run to? Jason lived closest to me. Trying to shake off the killer, I ran through a small park and into the trailer park where Jason lived. Not wanting to wake his parents, I tapped on his window. After a minute, Jason pulled back a curtain and frowned at me, face clearing as he recognized me. I folded my hands as if I were praying. Please, please let me in. He nodded and pointed towards the front of the home, towards the front door. Yes! I slowly made my way around to the front of the trailer, being careful to not make noise. As I turned the corner towards the front door, my heart stopped with shock. I froze, and then ducked below the small deck leading off the front door.

The thing was HUGE. It was wolf-like, I decided. It stood on rear legs, black with fur covering it, large jaws, pointed ears, and gleaming yellow eyes. I pulled out my phone. My, what large teeth you have, I texted. There was no response. Perhaps it could only text in human form. Like a werewolf. It was sentient, and smelling me out. Damn. Jason opened the front door, and the wolf lunged, locking in on the movement and closing the gap in three leaps to rip his throat out. I nearly screamed, but caught myself. It was all my fault. Poor Jason. Horrified as it began to tear him apart, I ran for it. I needed to be in a crowded area. Somewhere with lots of people.

I headed for the nearest subway station. I wasn’t brave enough to look over my shoulder, but I didn’t think it was following me just yet. I kept hearing the gurgling noise as the wolf ripped Jason’s throat out, the thud of him falling to the ground and feral growl that followed. I’ll never sleep again, I thought as I ran the mile to the subway station. I needed to put some serious distance between me and that monstrosity.

When I reached the station, I stopped to catch my breath and for the first time, look behind me. Thankfully, the monster was nowhere to be found. I jumped on the first open train and collapsed on the nearest available seat. I pulled out my phone as the train closed the doors and began to move. I had two new messages.

You are not within approved limits. Officers have been dispatched to retrieve you. Shit, I thought. I forgot about the stupid ankle bracelet. Just what I need.

The second message was from the killer. Sorry I missed you; your friend was delicious too. I exited out of my messages and called the police station. A secretary answered.

“NYPD, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m being hunted,” I told her. “This is Red. I mean, Sierra Campbell.”

There was a pause and some keyboard clicks. “Where are you now, Sierra?”

“The subway, heading towards Rockerfeller Center. The monster killed my Gran, my friend, and now it’s coming after me,” I gushed, panicking.

“Killed who?” My phone vibrated, and I put her on speaker while I checked my messages.

They can’t help you. I’m one of them.

I hung up the phone and screamed into my hands, crying tears of frustration. My phone buzzed again. Thanks for the information, little pig. I’ll find you yet.

What are you? And quit calling me that, I texted back.

You were correct, in a sense, when you guessed wolf, the killer messaged. Though you need to behead me with a silver axe to stop me.

Where was I going to get a silver axe? Just as I went to search for one on my phone, it blinked at me and died. “Damn it,” I cursed. I dug into my backpack and pulled out a charger. Looking around, I realized the next stop was the south end of Central Park. Getting off at the next stop, I found a local coffee shop and plugged my phone in to charge. I ordered a small latte and waited for my phone to recharge. When it did wake up, I had three new messages.

Care to tell me where you are? It was the killer.

Not really, I texted back. Care to tell me who you are?

No, not really. You may guess if you like, though.

The second message was from another unknown number. You’re out. No third chances. Damn, I cursed. I could have used the money. It wasn’t my fault, I texted back. The bag spilled in my backpack and then we had inspections at school. I didn’t have time to swap it at Grans. I didn’t get a response.

The third was an auto-message. You are not within your parameters. An officer has been dispatched to retrieve you.