He watched the blanket rise and fall as Alisa slept. He almost didn't want her to wake as she seemed so at peace. But, he had to know what was going on.
Hesitantly, he took off his towel and changed into his now-dry clothing. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 4:00AM. Alisa should be waking up soon, whether she wanted to or not. But, she was still nude, and he didn't know if anyone was due at the warehouse that day, or when.
Quickly, he made the decision to carry her back to his hotel room now as it was still as dark as it gets in New York City.
Still sleeping, she curled against him when he lifted her up from her position on the floor. Her breath tickled his neck as he carefully carried her through the building, and out the door. He only hoped there would be no blood shed before the morning light could arrive.
He felt a tap on his shoulder. He muttered something. A more insistant tap. He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. Alisa looked down at him, her eyes showing a million emotions.
He sat up quickly. "Alisa. What is it?"
She shrugged. "You told me to explain later. Only, not in so many words."
He lay back down. "Explain."
He was amazed. According to Alisa, there was something going on here. A scandal that could possibly topple the world if something weren't done about it.
He hugged Alisa, possibly holding her a little closer than necessary.
The details were sketchy at best, and he could tell she wasn't telling him everything. But, what he knew..... It sent chills down his spine.
There was a concentration camp located near Malone, New York. It was only about half a mile into the state from the Canadian border. But, this camp wasn't for Jews and the people who tried to help them. It was instead for musicians. And new camps with the same cause were springing up around the world.
It was all being run by a guy named Andrew Kitler. A guy wanted by the FBI. People with ties to Kitler had been caught breaking into numerous record companies at their East coast offices. But, who knows how many times they broke in, but weren't caught?
Alisa was a musician. She played bass for a band named "Xia". She wrote most of their music and lyrics, though she was an awful singer.
Kitler had captured her himself. She had been hauled from the rastaurant shortly after he left. Somehow, things had been worked out so that she could still meet him. In an attempt to phase whoever had been following her, she had stripped down. Then she had said something to get him to turn.
She didn't know why she had mumbled all that she did, but claimed it was shock at seeing the red dot on his forehead. That's why she ran. She was happy he had followed.
It all crowded his mind, trying to make sense of itself. As it did, a new thought began to form. Where were his brothers? Had they been captured?
He excused himself from Alisa's presence and hurried over to Isaac's room, his older brother was not there. Zac's room. No younger brother either. He swallowed fear and peered into the room of his younger siblings. Gone. And his parents' room. Gone. He sank to the floor.
Something warm brushed his ear. He waved it away. It came again. He shook his head. Once more.This time it stayed in place, paining him. He moved quickly out of the way and glanced at the wall. A bright laser-red light remained there for a millisecond before blinking away. He glanced around nervously. They had to get out of there. He retreated back into his room where Alisa was putting on some of his clothing. He threw a sweatshirt her way from his suitcase, then grabbed one for himself.
Then he opened a secret compartment in his suitcase, pulling from it a roll of money and a switchblade. He stuffed his wallet with one, and pushed the other inside his Doc Martens. He looked around for a way out.
The fire escape. He opened the window, and climbed out, pulling Alisa after him. The ladder slid down smoothly, and they proceeded down it.
Once they hit the ground, they began to run down the street. He didn't look back until they were in Times Square. But, that's when something heavy hit him on the head, and darkness prevailed.
He awoke in a room with yellowed walls, and 5 girls staring at him. He stared back. "What are you looking at?"
Alisa, one of the 5 girls, spoke. "We're talking about being fans of yours, and your pants."
A dark-haired girl with a somewhat large bone structure spoke. "Or rather, lack thereof."
He looked down. Embarassment set in. He wished he hadn't worn his Tigger boxers.
Two blond girls who looked vaguely alike, apparantly sisters, giggled. And a few other giggles escaped from the lips of the other girls.
The final girl, also a blond, spoke. "Hey. We like them. we're fans. Not teenies, though. Pleh! Definately not. Just big fans."
He smiled, somewhat relaxed. "So, what are your names, ages, and bands?"
Alisa spoke first. "Alisa. 16. Xia."
Then the dark-haired girl. "Kim. 15. until tomorrow."
The taller of the blond sisters. "Krystle, but call me Kaylin or Kay. 16. until tomorrow."
The other sister. "Melyssa, call me Missa, Lis, Monkey, whatever. 15. Same band."
The final girl. "The name's Silver. 16. Same damn band as these three."
He smiled. Just then, the door was thrown open. A petite Chinese girl was thrown in the cell. Four of the five girls were ecstatic about it.
The girl smiled when he questioned her as he had the other girls. She spoke in an Australian accent, but just barely, something that surprised him. "Call me Jay. 16. until tomorrow. Big duh, huh dude?"
He laughed. They stuck him with a bunch of girls. They probably thought he was one. Now, how great a day was this?
After a few hours of conversing about almost everything and anything, the subject turned to Kitler. No one really knew much more about him than he did. It wasn't even known if that was his real name.
During that conversation, someone began to open the door. They quickly ended their conversation. The door opened further. A dark-haired, broad-shouldered man stood at attention.
The man's finger pointed first at him, then at Alisa. They were told to follow the man. They obliged.As he walked out of the room, he felt his butt pinched three distant times, and slapped at least once. When he turned, Silver, Kim, and Missa were grinning like mad-women, and Jay winked at him. Maybe they were mad-women.
They followed him down long, dark hallways filled with sounds of wounded spirits lifting up their voice in song.
A few more steps. The man unlocked a door, opened it, then hastily pushed them through it.
He stood for a moment listening to the man relock the door. Watching the dead bolt slide past the small slit between the door and it's frame.
Then he turned, and stumbled a bit. Nothing could have prepared him for what he now saw.
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