028 Apartment Call w Silo 1139

The call continues to ring. The man seems frozen, unsure what to do. It's odd seeing him like this. He's been so sure of every decision he's made since I've known him, to see him indecisive shows his vulnerable side, a side that I might be able to exploit.

'Sit down there.' The man directs me to my couch. 'Don't move.' He orders as he answers the call. I sit down and watch him as he speaks into the cell.

'I'm here.' He answers.

I can't hear what the other person says. I've no idea who they are. Perhaps they're police also? Perhaps it's his boss calling. I'm tempted to call out, to scream out help, or something to that effect, but without knowing exactly who it is would be far too risky. 

'No, don't do that.' I hear the man say, almost pleadingly. 'There's been a situation.' He says as he stares at me. I'm not the situation, you're the situation, I want to say, but I bite my tongue. I'm coming to realise I need to be tactical about things. Just blurting something out because I'm annoyed isn't going to help me escape. If anything, acting docile and compliant will hopefully lure the man into feeling comfortable with me, and potentially get him to lower his guard. 

I discreetly slide my hand into my pocket and feel the pair of nail scissors. It's not much, but it's something. I figure I'll have once chance to use them and I need to use it wisely. 

'I just need more time.' The man says into the phone, a sincere look of worry printed across his face. 

I try to image who is calling him right now. It doesn't seem like a work related call. But maybe it is? Maybe he's in trouble with people at the precinct.  

 'No, leave him be. He's got nothing to do with this!' He whisper-yells into the phone. His face now pinched in anger.

Whatever the other person says seems to terrify the man, as his momentary rise of anger is quickly washed over with worry. 

The man ends the call by nodding to himself, then lowering the cell from his ear. He stares blankly into space for a moment as though considering his next move. 

Then suddenly, out of nowhere he lashes out and punches the wall repeatedly, expending all his built up anger. I recoil as he hits it so hard he puts his fist through the dry-wall. He finally stops, anger expelled, for now. He stares at me for a moment, thinking, then commands, 'Help me get my shoes on, we've got to get out of here now.'

I pick up his shoes as he painfully lowers himself onto on the couch. I kneel, then slide his feet into the shoes and lace them up. There's something truly awful about this. The entire time with this man has been horrific, but there's something especially degrading about kneeling before your captor and lacing his shoes. Once done, I get up and help the man to standing. 

'Do you have any money stashed here?' He asks.

I look at him askew and say honestly, 'Look at this place, does it look like I've got a hidden safe somewhere?' 

He doesn't like my sarcasm, but he takes my point and doesn't press me. The truth is I do have a small amount of rainy day money hidden, but it's only a few hundred and there's no way in hell I'm giving it to him. 

'Let's go,' He says, motioning to the front door. I open it and peer out, the landing seems quiet. There's no light coning from the base of Sukee's door, so I can only assume she's asleep. I almost wish she was awake so she could see us leaving and hopefully realise that everything is not okay and that I desperately need help.

We make it to the end of the landing then slowly, painfully begin our decent of the stairs. The man drapes his arm around my shoulder and we take each step one at a time. 

We make it down the first flight of stairs without incident. It's as we begin to descend the second set that an idea forms. This man is reliant on me to get him down. Without my assistance he can't seemingly walk by himself. Not with any stability that is. We take the first step, then the second, it's as he shifts his weight onto his wounded leg and is about to take his third step down, that I suddenly push him down the stairs with all my might. He loses balance immediately and tumbles down. 

I turn and run back up the stairs to my apartment as fast as possible. I hear the man crash down onto the landing at the bottom of the stairs. He yells out in pain, but evidently keeps hold of the gun, as I hear him fire at me. Two shots - Pop! Pop! The bullets puncture the wall just behind me. 

As I run past Sukee's door I wrack my knuckles on it calling out, 'Sukee! Open up! Help!'

I look back and see the man crawling up the stairs, gun in hand, his face pinched in anger. If I stay here he'll have a clean shot at me in a matter of seconds. I run down the hallway, into my apartment, slam the door shut and lock it. 

I look around my apartment at a complete loss for what to do. I peer through the door looker and see the man use the banister to pull himself to standing. Right then, Sukee's door opens and she sees the man. He raises his gun at her, but she's fast enough to dash back into her apartment and slam the door shut. 

I feel a pang of guilt bringing Sukee into this, risking her life like this, but at least now she knows of my situation. The man staggers down the hallway, past Sukee's door towards mine.

I look around for something, anything to defend myself with. I hurry into the kitchen and grab the largest carving knife I can find. I then look for somewhere to hide, to run. The kitchen window shows a six floor drop down to the street, nowhere to go there. I have no balcony. My only chance might be out the washroom window as there are some large down-pipes there I could potentially climb on. 

I move quickly back into the living room but my route to the washroom is interrupted by - Pop! Pop! as two bullets shatter my door lock, then Bam! The man barges the door open and staggers in. I'm trapped in my own apartment with only a knife defend myself against a killer with a gun.