CHAPTER FIVE

        The next morning, I wake to the sound of a blaring alarm. At first, I don’t recognize it for what it truly is; though I take it to be Dan’s alarm clock, so I nudge his pillow with my arm. “Dan,” I grumble, “hit the alarm.”

        When he doesn’t, I roll over onto my side; fully intent on reaching over him, and turning the damned thing off myself. That’s when it dawns on me – Dan’s gone; and he’s never coming back.

        If anything, this leaves me feeling sad. Desperate. Alone. Maybe even a little frustrated. Kind of like how I feel about that goddamned alarm. Where the hell is that thing even coming from!

        Desperate to finally put an end to it, I lift my head up off my pillow, and close my eyes; concentrating on finding the source of the alarm. As it would turn out, it’s not coming from Dan’s alarm at all – it’s coming from the security panel down in the hallway.

        Struggling to fend off the emotional fatigue, and physical grogginess that comes with mourning the loss of a loved one, I leave the confines of my warm bed to reset the security system; making sure the front door is secure before putting the system into ‘STANDBY’ mode.

        Once I’m through with that, I hop into the shower; reveling in the warmth of the recycled water as it runs down my back, cleansing my mind, and relaxing my muscles. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until just now.

        Unfortunately, I don’t get to stay in the shower for too much longer because the blaring alarm eventually returns in full force; only this time there’s no silencing it, no matter how many times I type in my password.

        After about ten minutes of this, I’m beyond frustrated. If I were a violent person, I probably would have ripped the panel off the wall a long time ago, and smashed it to smithereens. But I’m not a violent person. If Dan were still here, he could attest to that.

        Still, though, if I can’t get the alarm to quiet down soon, I might not have much of a choice – I’ll have to rip the damned thing off the wall, and smash it to smithereens. Otherwise, I fear I’ll lose what little sanity I have left.

        Luckily, my final attempt at resetting the security panel works; and the alarm finally quiets down. Sighing a big sigh of relief, I’m about to return to the bathroom to finish getting myself ready for the day when the knocking starts.

        What the freak! Who could that possibly be?

        Reaching for my pepper spray, I glance up at the clock behind me before inching towards the front door. It’s not even half past five yet, which does nothing to ease my fraying nerves.

        When I reach the door, I gingerly place my fingers on the handle. Before I turn the knob, I ask, “W-who’s there?”

        Nobody answers.

        “W-who’s there?” I repeat, trying to sound more forceful; but failing miserably.

        Again, nobody answers. So, I turn the knob ever so hesitantly, but before I can finish turning the knob completely, the entire door comes flying straight at me. It slams into me full-force; knocking me off my feet, and sending me reeling backwards.

        Dazed and confused, it takes me a couple of minutes to figure out what just happened; though, by then, it’s already too late for me to do anything about the three armor-clad figures standing over me.

        In a fit of panic, I reach out blindly for my pepper spray. Not that it’ll do me any good. I don’t stand a chance against this group of soldiers, and I’m sure they know it.

        Hauling me to my feet, one of the soldiers confiscates my pepper spray while another asks me, “Are you Adrian Mercer?”

        Unsure of what to say or do, I just nod my head in agreement; hoping they can all see the gesture through their tinted ballistic visors. I guess they can because the soldier who questioned my identity goes on to say, “Good. Now, go gather your things. My team and I have orders to get you to the nearest safe zone.”

        What! “Why? What’s happening?”

        “That’s classified. Now get to it. You’ve got five minutes. After that, ready or not, we’re dragging your sorry ass out of here. Is that clear?”

        “Crystal.”

*          *          *

        Outside my apartment, I can hear the soldiers priming their semi-automatics. From the sound of it, they’re preparing for battle. And although that frightens me, I don’t let it deter me from the task at hand. I do have my orders after all.

        So, while they’re out there, doing God knows what, I shimmy around inside my apartment; wreaking all kinds of havoc. By the time they come storming back in, I’m just about ready to go. All I have left to do is to grab Dan’s jacket, and throw on my backpack.

        Luckily for me, I’m able to accomplish both of those tasks right as I feel a pair of hands bearing down on my shoulders. “Come on, Mercer. It’s time to go!” demands one of the soldiers.

        “Alright,” I say as I take one last look at my apartment, and head for the door; knowing deep down, this is the last time I’ll ever set foot here.