Harrison eyed at his schoolwork ruggedly. He only started a couple of minutes ago on his work, but he soon found himself tired. He already turned his phone off, but he found himself procrastinating on his laptop, which he hardly did.

He opened and immediately closed a few sites, debating whether or not he should continue procrastinating, despite knowing that he was going to procrastinate anyway. He eventually came across a few articles and decided that reading about current events was as productive as he was going to be in the next hour.

He finished reading an article about metaphysics not understanding a word, but his brain felt like it ran a mile and benched two hundred pounds.

Harrison’s cursor finally found its way onto an article about the Gomez twins, and he soon found himself in a research dive.

Harrison had not heard about the twins for quite some time. They were the main attraction a month ago but were now merely a blurb in the constantly growing chaos in the world. People quickly became tired of hearing news about the Gomez twins just like any other event that took over the news, and something new always came in to replace and take up peoples’ lives.

The season finale of Criminal Chase was a catastrophe. The producers even tried to create a special episode to mask as the true final episode. People did not take kindly to that, and ratings were expectedly poor. Who knew people would react poorly when an entire camera crew and fifteen professionals were killed only weeks ago?

Harrison scrolled through the article. He knew most of the things that had already happened. That the Gomez’s twins were running a faulty car, and that it showed even at the beginning of the race. Critics expressed how the twins, the other professionals, and the producers should have expressed more caution.

The Gomez twins received the most flack out of them all. People blamed them since they remained unscathed, despite the fact footage showed Richie Gomez trying his best to save his sister who was trapped in the car.

No news of why Richie was not at his top performance though. The story was that Richie was abusing drugs, but the thought of such a thing did not sit well with Harrison. Richie Gomez had always been straight edge. It was his niche. The fact that he would decide to use drugs, even if he were a heavy user on such a night did not make sense to Harrison. Or perhaps, he did not understand how drug addiction worked nor did he know who Richie was as a person.

The part that puzzled him the most was Isaiah Delton or lack thereof. Nobody spoke about the notorious criminal apart from speculation from online forums. The news said he escaped in the chaos, and practically hushed up anything else about him. If he wanted to know the truth, then he was going to have to find answers on his own.

Harrison looked into the paper bag on his desk. He was sure the count was correct just like the last five counts, but he better total up the money again.

***

Harrison banged on the door a few times. He looked up at a camera positioned above the door for a few seconds.

“What?” Harrison said. “By now you should recognize my pretty face. Right?”

“You were here yesterday,” An obscured voice said.

 “Yeah, I need more product.”  

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” Harrison said and he flashed and held a smile for the camera.

“You have the money?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Harrison said.

The door hissed, and the lock disengaged. The door slightly propped open, and Harrison grabbed for the handle.

Inside, he was met with another security check. He took off his jacket and placed it into a cubby, which immediately suctioned into the wall. He stood still for a complete minute and waited to be scanned. Any slight movement and he would have to restart the test over.

The second door hissed, and again the lock disengaged, and he found himself faced with Tac, the six-foot woman that towered a couple of inches over Harrison. Not much information was known about the woman, but he figured she was important. He aimed to get on her good side, to learn more about her.

“You’re a narc,” Tac said as she bit into a potato chip. “Are you a narc, Harry?”

“Do you want me to be?” Harrison said. He cringed at the memory of him using Harry as a fake name.

“Yes, and no,” Tac said. “Depends on what you have right now.”

Harrison took out the paper bag with the stack of bills he received from one of the frat houses at his university. It was easy to sell his product and meet his quota when entire fraternities were eager to buy then sell the drugs themselves. They also liked getting fucked up. It eased his mind that he was selling to people that he did not care about. He handed the money to Tac, who then handed it to another member, whose status was probably still higher than Harrison.

While they waited for the money to be counted, Tac egged Harrison on.

“What’s your goal here?” Tac said.

“Goal?” Harrison repeated.

“Say it.”

“Money, I suppose.”

“Money?”

“Why? What else would I want?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

Harrison hated these types of people, those that insinuated things based on nothing. Still, he decided to play her game, anything to get closer to her, and eventually the leader.

“Power,” Harrison said. That must be the answer she wants.

“Bingo!” She pointed at Harrison as if they were in a cliché movie scene. She handed him a chip, which he ate. “That’s what you want. I can see it in your eyes.”

You can’t see shit, Harrison thought, but he obliged. Maybe this was the step towards meeting the leader.

The member came back and reported the amount of money that Harrison brought.

“$3,100,” The man said.

3,100? Harrison thought. That was off by a couple hundred. Should he tell her this or should he-

Bang! Pieces of the man sprayed onto Harrison’s face, blood-stained his shirt and the rest of his body.

Harrison looked forward, unsure of what else would agitate Tac. If she shot this man that easily, then he was not better off.

“I don’t like liars, do you Harry?” Tac said. Her gun now pressed against Harrison’s chest.

“I d-don’t,” Harrison said. Did she have an ability to spot out liars?

“Good. We have a new vacant spot.” Tac removed the gun and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll have some men get you clean clothing. Go take a shower and get cleaned up.”

***

Harrison squatted in the shower, allowing the water to pelt on him. No matter how much he washed himself, he still felt dirty. His mind fluttered to understand what happened, and he kept trying to persuade himself to keep going, that this was expected, especially since it was a gang after all.

No, this was not a gang. It was more organized than that. The man being shot demonstrated that. This was an ornate organization that functioned fluidly and without mistakes because mistakes meant death.

Better him, than me, Harrison repeated the thought repeatedly in his head. He tried his best to persuade himself that he should learn vicariously from that man, that he should not mess up. Or better yet, he should leave. He should leave right now. Harrison decided on that and quickly turned off the shower faucet.

He tiptoed nakedly across the bathroom with his feet skittering across the cold floor. He shuddered with each step and reached for a clean towel on a rack. He dried himself off and looked for his pile of dirty clothes.

“Damn.” Someone must have taken them to get cleaned, which means they took his phone. Accidentally taken or to search through it? Harrison did think ahead and bought a burner phone specifically for this type of occasion since it would not be suspicious for a drug dealer to have a burner, but his only lifeline to the outside world was now gone.

Harrison changed into the set of beige clothing neatly piled atop the counter of the sink. They were nearly his fit, but they could be tighter to better match his preference.

Outside the bathroom, he found a bed and wondered why such a hotel-looking room subsided in this dump. Harrison did not expect this type of room to be in this bad of a warehouse. There was probably more that he did not know, and he was unsure if he was game to learn more.

Tac entered with a tray of food, placing it at a nearby table. The smell of seared fish trailed and diffused into the room. She smiled at Harrison and asked how he was doing. He said he was fine, but obviously, that was not the case.

“Sorry I had to do that in front of you,” Tac said. “We have rules in this organization and lying is not one of them. Even if the truth is bad, we still don’t lie.”

Tac sat on the bed, right beside him. She said, “How do you like my room?”

“Oh, it’s lovely.” Lovely, Harrison? “It feels official like I’m in a deluxe suite in a hotel.”

“You think so? Feel how comfy this bed is.” Tac grabbed his hand and moved Harrison’s hand gliding it back and forth. The forced movement repulsed Harrison, but he allowed it to happen. “It cost $7,100.”

“Have you seen my phone?” Harrison said. She could slit my throat right now.

“Phone?”

“Yeah, it was in my pants pocket,” he said. I could bleed out on this bed.

“They must have accidentally laundered it,” Tac said. Her apologetic eyes made him skip a beat. “I’ll replace it for you.”

He knew it would be tracked, but he said, “Thank you.”

“Now, Harry,” Tac said. “Let’s get to know you better.”

“Know me better?”

“Stop repeating what I say all the time.” The tone in her voice made him sit up straight.

“I just sell what people want me to sell. That’s all.”

“Is that all you are?”

“Is that all that-“ Harrison took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for but working part-time at a job and slaving away for a boss that doesn’t acknowledge me isn’t what I want to do.”

Tac nodded and took in the information. “I see.”

Was that a potential red flag? Harrison’s mind raced to figure ways to save and dig himself out of this hole.

Tac kept a hold of his hand and guided him towards a dinner table. “Let’s eat first, then we can talk.”

Is this woman sadistic? Harrison’s eyes opened wide. She knows I’m lying in some way, so why doesn’t she just kill me?

“Let’s eat, then we can talk,” Tac said.

Harrison sighed a breath of relief in his head, careful not to personify the thought into reality.

“I hope you like fish,” Tac said. “The boss loves salmon.”

“The boss?”

“Just some random guy, no one you need to worry about.”

I want to worry about him, Harrison thought, but he chewed silently to himself.

“So, Harrison,” Tac said. “You mind telling me what you’re really doing here?”

The food midway down Harrison’s throat decided to take a pit stop before becoming swallowed down. Harrison grabbed a glass of water and chugged down the remnants. He cleared his throat, Tac was ready for his answer.

“Well, I just want to work my way up in this organization—“

Tac squeezed his hand and said, “I need you to cut it out and start being serious. We’re a crime syndicate, not some run-of-the-mill gang. Your name is Harrison Beck. You live on 231 West Burdon Road. Your dad is an accountant, while your mother works in a business firm. That’s rather odd for a criminal justice major, don’t you think?”

She gripped harder and her nails dug into his skin. The nails sharply stung, but Harrison expressed no pain. He was figured out, but his mind forced him to be even more cautious. His heart skipped a beat: Something in his gut told him that Isaiah Delton was here, or at least he was getting somewhere.

Tac said, “My ability hurts like knives, so use your next words wisely.”

Harrison could easily toss her aside, fling her into the air if he wanted to. Whatever her ability was: he knew that his would overpower hers any day, but instead he relaxed. If they wanted him dead, then they would have killed him by then. Why bother with the theatrics unless she really was sadistic, but Harrison slowly believed that that was not the case.

This woman was calculative and cunning, just like him. Perhaps that is why she had taken such an interest in him, a reflection of herself.

“Isaiah Delton,” Harrison said coolly. “I’m looking for him.”

Tac relaxed her grip, her hands now on her spoon and fork. “I see.”

She continued to eat, and Harrison followed suit.

“What do you want with Isaiah Delton?” Tac said when she finished her meal.

“I just want to know what happened with the Gomez twins.”

“You’re not lying, are you?”

“Lying wouldn’t benefit me,” Harrison said.

“I suppose you’re right.” Tac chuckled and wiped her lips with a napkin. “You’re a weird kid. Is this some sort of school assignment?”

“I’m doing this for—“

“For what?”

“For fun,” Harrison said, unsure why he did.

“Fun?” Tac said.

“Listen, I don’t know why. I just felt like doing it.”

“You just decided to join a crime organization to find a wanted felon? Are criminal justice majors usually like this taking the initiative?”

Harrison remained silent.

“Come on, laugh a little,” Tac said, disappointed with Harrison’s current attitude. “Listen, I won’t kill you today, but why don’t you come back tomorrow, and you can start your new position.”

“And what would that be?”

Tac pressed Harrison’s supposedly laundered phone into his hand, “You’re my new bodyguard! Congrats! As you know, the role was recently vacated. I’m sure your telekinetic powers will suit me well. I’ll see you after your 2 o’clock class.”