There was a knock at the closet door. Everyone froze, three pairs of lungs held their breath. In the semi-darkness, crouched in a corner between a green blouse and a ratty fur coat, Kelly craned her neck to try to see Kate and Nick who were huddled next to a bin overflowing with mismatched shoes. Their eyes met. No one moved.
“Hey guys?” Joe’s voice sounded shaky and thin. “I think they’re gone.”
After a moment of hesitation, Nick stood and pulled the chair from where it had been hastily wedged under the doorknob ten minutes before. He opened the door slowly, a sliver of light gradually widening over the floor of the tiny closet until they could see Joe, his face still pale, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Caroline and Dylan were standing a few feet behind him in the center of the bedroom.
Kelly stood up and half stumbled out the closet behind Kate and Nick.
“Are you all okay?” Joe asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” Nick said. “Is anyone hurt?”
“No. No, we’re all fine,” Joe was looking at the floor, his mouth moving slightly as if he were trying to shape a sentence that wasn’t there. “I don’t know what happened. It was all so fast. They took all of it and just left. Kilo went with them.”
From down the hallway they could hear the sound of Daft Punk still playing on the stereo in the living room. What had been a party only fifteen minutes before was now as solemn and sober as a Sunday morning church service.
No one had seen it coming. The three guys had been friends of Kilo, who lived two floors down. It was technically a HUD apartment complex, but because of the number colleges near by a lot of students ended up living there as well. Kate had been really excited to find such a good deal on a place so close to school. When Joe, Kate’s boyfriend, wasn’t going to class he was usually dealing out of Kate’s apartment to the normal clientele of freshmen who lived in dorms and didn’t know any better. Kilo had told Joe that he knew some guys who wanted to pick up a couple of pounds. Joe had been more than willing to accommodate the sale of his product.
It was near midnight when the doorbell rang. Kilo walked in followed by three guys dressed in extra large basketball jerseys over white t-shirts and jeans that sagged down almost to their knees. These were not freshmen looking to pick up an eighth. The tallest of the three wore a red bandana over his shaved head and was obviously in charge, speaking to Kilo in barely audible grunts and glancing shiftily around the room. The entire crew looked like they belonged in a Dead Prez video or backing for Biggie Smalls. Kilo and his three companions followed Joe into the kitchen. A few nervous looks were exchanged between Kelly and her entirely un-thug friends, but the energy of the party was high and it didn’t take long for everyone to get back to drinking and dancing.
A little while later Kelly excused herself to go to the bathroom and tried to smile at one of the guys Kilo had brought over as she walked through the kitchen. He was the shortest of three, barely taller than Kelly, and a little on the chubby side. He didn’t return her smile and only glared menacingly as she passed by before turning his attention back to the conversation that was taking place over the three vacuum-sealed packages sitting on the kitchen table.
After finishing in the bathroom, Kelly walked back through the kitchen again, this time asking jokingly why no one was dancing. No one in the kitchen seemed to be listening. Kelly shrugged and continued on into the living room. If she had waited a few second longer, if she had stopped to fix her hair in the mirror or check her cell phone for missed calls, Kelly would have seen Bandana Guy reach into his waistband and pull out a Glock 19 semiautomatic. She would have seen Joe’s face go pale as he raised his hands in front of him and backed up against the kitchen counter. She would have heard Kilo exclaim, “What the fuck, man?” as Short Guy grabbed the bags from the table. But she didn’t see any of these things. As she walked back into the living room
The next few seconds were a blur. Kate turned towards the kitchen and suddenly dropped her drink. Daft Punk was blasting on the stereo, the pulsing beats making everything else seem slow. There was shouting. Bandana Guy pointed the gun at Joe and then at Kilo said something to his companions. With Kilo leading the way and Bandana Guy close behind, they began heading for the living room. Kelly felt a hand clamp around her forearm. Before she could turn around Nick was dragging her towards the bedroom where Kate was already half way in the closet. “Hey, what the hell?” Kelly said with a laugh, still not sure what all the commotion was about. Nick pushed her into the closet behind Kate, grabbed a chair from under the desk near the bed, yanked the closet door closed behind them and wedged the chair underneath.
“No one make a sound,” he whispered.
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