Friday, July 31, 2030, New York
The wind whips through the trees of Central Park. After a long day at work, Alex slowly walks on the concrete sidewalk of the park. The air fills with shouts and noises; vendors are selling food. The air smells like freshly made barbecue. Alex slowly walks along the sidewalk of the park, transitioning to the bustling city environment. The sounds of cars and honks fill the air. Alex walked through the busy streets of New York toward his apartment building. The elevator ticked steadily as it climbed higher and higher until it finally reached the twenty-fifth floor. The doors slid open with a metallic screech, and Alex stepped out, checking his mailbox before making his way to his apartment.
His apartment was spacious, with intricately decorated posters with his favorite TV shows. A large mahogany desk sat in the corner of the apartment, scattered with several papers and a broken mirror on top.
Alex tossed his keys on the counter. Pushing his papers to the side, he opened the package. There was a letter and a phone.
“In five minutes, armed men will break down your door. Do not fight them. Follow every instruction sent to this phone. Hesitate, and you will die.”
Alex snorted, “What is this, some sort of joke sent by my friends?”
He tossed the letter aside into the trash and pocketed the phone.
Buzz
The text read, “Jump out of the window in 20 seconds.”
“Yeah, right, like I have a death wish”
Right on cue, the door bangs open. Several men in dark ski masks walk through, carrying guns and scanning the area.
“There he is,” one yells.
Without hesitation, Alex jumps out of the window.
The wind stings his face as he falls. Thoughts ran through his head: would he be alive? What would everyone say? Would it hurt?
The ground approached quickly; he braced himself and closed his eyes.
WHAM
His eyes popped open—he was on a truck. He felt no pain.
“Was he dead?” Alex thought. “Is that what dead people felt”
He looked around; he was on a mattress on a truck.
Instinctively, Alex reached for his phone and saw the second message.
Jump off. Take the blue line subway.
Alex, however, didn’t move. His eyes were glued to the screen. It buzzed again.
JUMP NOW.
Alex looked up: a car was moving towards the truck at full speed. He jumped. Time seemed to slow as he made his slow descent off the truck. He hit the ground running while cars around him honked. As he made for the subway, he heard footsteps pounding behind him.
They were close.
Ducking through the entrance, he ran for the blue line. Just then, the phone buzzed again: “Take the last car.”
Alex ran for the last car just as the doors began to close. The car was old, with most of the seats rusted. However, Alex’s eyes were still glued to the screen.
There was a file. He opened it. It was a letter.
“Alex, if you are reading this, it means you survived the fall. Think about Marcus. The duffel bag that he slipped into your closet last Thursday. It wasn’t a birthday gift. It was a cartel’s money. He stole it to frame you. – Alex”
Suddenly, he wasn’t on the train anymore; he was in his apartment. On the floor, coughing out blood as bullets continued to spray him. He gasped; his vision returned. He was on the train.
And this time, he promised, he would make everyone pay in blood.