The Yellow Pill (11 page)

“Frey!
Don’t you
ever
do that again, or I
swear
I won’t try to catch you
next time!” He said, trying not to let his fingers throttle her. The gap
between the two buildings had been so far he had just shaken his head, feeling
dizzy just standing close to the edge. 

His
heart had literally stopped when she had jumped.

“I
knew I was goanna make it. You’re such a girl, Jin.” She laughed at him.

“Sometimes
I
wanna
strangle your little neck!”

“Hah!
You could try,” she said, laughing again.

He
slid to the ground, back resting against the wall surrounding the rooftop. He
snorted at her and shook his head. “You’re goanna give me gray hair.”

“Well,
vice versa then, I always have to pull your sorry ass out of trouble,” Frey
said, sliding down close to him. He twisted a long arm around her neck and
pulled her close while she squealed, rubbing her head vigorously with his
knuckles.

“
Agh
!
Ow
ow
ow
!”

He let
go, and she punched him in the ribs.

He got
his legs under him and ran after her, pebbles spraying from their feet. His
long strides ate the distance in seconds, and he grabbed her around the waist.
Jin could feel her stomach muscles as she laughed. He pulled her close to his
chest and wrapped his arms around her, making escaping impossible.

They
stood like that for a while, not saying anything, just enjoying each other’s
warmth, feeling her heart through his chest.

He
woke up slowly, already feeling the warmth of sleep give way for the pain of
the real world. What he never could remember was if he did say the words that
had been so clear in his mind. Jin remembered thinking them a thousand times,
over and over. Promising
himself
that he would tell
her, letting her know how he felt.

Letting
her know he loved her…

It all
felt like a lifetime ago now.

He
felt stiff and sore all over. The pain was too great. His eyes were gummy and
his tongue felt swollen.

Hugging
himself, he tried to give himself some warmth. Sleeping on the cold concrete
was a bad idea, but the pain had taken over, and his legs had just folded under
him.

Jin
scrubbed at his mouth, the dried froth flaking off in yellow crisps. He rubbed
his eyes and forced himself to stand. The further into the territory he walked,
the more strange things became.

The
third gang member who passed him grabbed his arm in an iron grip, demanding to
know if he had the real stuff, without print. Jin twisted his arm free. Inside
gang territory you earned your own Yellow Pills. Everyone knew that. And this
was the fourth time someone had mentioned a “false” pill…

Jin
backed away from the man. “No man, I don’t have any on me,” Jin said. The man
didn’t waste more time with him, but pushed right past.

There
was chaos outside the warehouse that Big T used as headquarters. Not just the
normal yelling and fighting echoing from the open space, but sounding like an
all out war made out of words.

Gunfire
erupted suddenly.

Jin
ducked behind a big container. The cries of pain sounded muted as people died
in there. Jin pressed himself against the metal, the edges from the container
pressing hard into his ribs. He covered his ears, regretted ever having come.
His blood was pounding in his head as he tried to fight the natural response
that told him to run. He was breathing short, shallow breaths.

It
took a while for him to notice that he could hear his own breathing again.

Carefully
uncovering his ears, he found that the streets were again silent. Dead silent…

Jin
crawled up on his feet and snuck closer to the edge of the building, glancing
around the corner to see the massive roller doors stand open. Someone had come
running out of there, leaving footprints in blood.

He
shouldn’t have turned the corner, he really shouldn’t have. Everything told him
not to. All the blood outside, the smell, the noise before…

But he
did.

Jin
hadn’t vomited since he had been a kid. Now he could feel his insides clench as
the fluids in his stomach forced themselves up his throat. For the first time
in his life he was glad it was empty.

Jin
had one hand on the side of the building as he leaned over, hurling over and
over, even when there wasn’t anything more to vomit.

Jin
wiped a shaky hand across his chin and mouth. There was a massacre in there.
You couldn’t tell the color of the floor because of all the blood. The bodies
were just a tangled mess lying scattered along the floor like broken ragdolls.

There
was some faint moaning, but no one seemed to move.

Scattered
guns and empty shells lay everywhere. This had been an all out war at close
range. Somehow, he knew Big T was in there somewhere.

A
movement caught his eye and Jin looked to the right to spot a young guy, around
his age, lying on his back, looking right at Jin. Jin walked over, doing his
best to not step on anyone’s face.

Now he
recognized the guy. He had been working close with Big T, always doing his
dirty work. Blood ran down the sides of his mouth, and Jin knew there was
nothing he could do to save him.

“What
happened?” Jin asked, his voice rough from misuse and bile.

The
man coughed out more blood, but managed to get the words out. “They tricked us,
f-fucking bastards…” He managed a shallow, gurgling breath. His lungs sounded
torn in half. “Tried to trade us… bloody b-bogus
dr
-drug…
P-prints on them…”

Jin
carefully put him back down when his body had gone slack.

As he
looked at the floor, he could make out the foaming piles mixed with the blood.
He kept looking around until he found a couple of pills lying on a dry patch.

The
room reeked of the metallic blood-smell and death. The tang of offal wafted to
him as he passed some bodies. Anytime now this place would be crawling with all
kinds of people, hoping to ramshackle the place before any other gang members
showed up to claim the spot. By now, all the gangs would’ve heard about the
shootout.

But
for Jin there was only
him
and the two little Yellow
Pills lying unspoiled at his feet.

Jin
bent down and picked them up. His body was telling him to consume them, but a
small part of his mind spoke up, and this time as if someone had spoken it
right into his ear.

Frey
told you to stay away from them… she
warned
you.

Jin
stayed his hand. Frey. All the confusion, all the emotions running haywire
inside him, and with all the blood around him, none of it had mattered. None of
it had stopped him from looking for his drug.

Jin
looked at the Yellow Pill rolling on his palm. He frowned.
What the…
Jin
tried to comprehend what it was he was seeing.

His
eyes snapped up towards the back of the factory. He made his way there,
stepping over bodies, not carrying whom he or what he stepped on, soaking his
torn sneakers in blood and filth. His eyes kept sweeping back and forth across
the massacre scene, but this time he didn’t see the staring dead eyes and
expressions frozen in the moment of death. He kept going until he spotted the
man he was looking for.

Big T
was buried beneath another person. They were both very dead. Big T had a big
hole blown through his forehead. Jin found what he was looking for in a small
opening in his jacket. He only had to glance at the bag for his heart to freeze
for the second time, his mouth going dry.

Yells
and curses echoed behind him as people flooded in. It was the west district by
the look of them, and they were heavily armed. 

Jin
dropped the pills into his jeans pocket before crawling towards the back
entrance.

“Find
the real pills! Find them!”

The
swarming west gang had their attention elsewhere, and Jin slipped outside
undetected, bolting down the street with a speed he didn’t know he possessed.

Why
the hell did I come here?
Jin thought as he panted outside the big black doors,
already having knocked.

Kirk
opened the door and ran away after making sure Jin promised to close it after
him. Jin struggled with the heavy latches before pulling himself up the stairs.

“Jin!”

“I
need to show you something.”

Father
Patrick helped him up the stairs, Jin surprised at how strong the old man still
was. “Then the roof. There’s more… room to talk up there.”

Jin
almost felt like laughing at how many times he had ignored Frey when she
started talking about someone listening. He had scolded her for it; even
threatening to end their friendship is she didn’t stop, afraid they would take
her away from him.

And
they had.

Father
Patrick led them to the corner where there were no pipes or boxes attached to
the wall. The smooth short wall, the rooftop and open air were the only thing
within a ten meters radius.

Jin
was shaking. “She’s gone…” it was all that came out. The old man had gone very
still. “She’s gone,” Jin said again.

Father
Patrick put his on Jin’s shoulder. “The worst thing we can do right now is to
give up. None of us wants that. Not you, not I, and not Frey. We have to hope.”

Jin
looked into Father Patrick’s eyes. The people who went missing were never
found, and neither were their bodies. Maybe if there were no bodies, the people
who had gone missing might still be alive…

Jin
shook his head but said nothing. He didn’t believe in fairytales. But he knew
that the old man was right in that Frey wouldn’t want him to give up. She
wouldn’t want any of them to give up, whatever the situation.

Jin
straightened his leg so he could empty his pocket.

The
Yellow Pills spilled out in his palm.

Father
Patrick looked at the open package. His body language showed nothing, but his
eyes burned with hatred at the drug that destroyed so many lives. Jin could
only imagine how many he had followed throughout the years, only to see them
end with that little Yellow pill.

Jin
could practically hear what Father Patrick was thinking.

“I
haven’t touched any of them.”

The
old man looked up at his face with such an expression of hope than Jin felt
pride warm his insides. Pride that he was actually telling the truth.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”
Jin held them up to Father Patrick. “The reason is that I finally took a good
long look at them.” Jin knew the old man knew they were supposed to be without
a barcode.

Surprise
came over Father Patrick’s face as he studied the addition. His hand went up to
rub his jaw. “Someone can’t have been making copies of it?” He whispered behind
his hand.

Jin
shook his head. “These were everywhere, the whole gang territory filled with
them.” The old man certainly didn’t need to know all the greasy details. “The
gangs all thought they had been tricked by each other. When I left, the west
gang just showed up, and it seems they all have the same problem with.” Jin was
leaning close to the old man, keeping his voice down even as the screams from
the city almost drowning out his words.

The
old man was nodding as if it all made sense. He sat silent for a while. “How
did it make you feel?” Father Patrick asked after a while.

“What?”

The
old man held up the pill. “How did it make you feel when you saw this? What
stayed your hand?”

He
shrugged his shoulders slowly. “I don’t know. It just felt wrong.”

“Why?”
The old man asked, pushing him. The tone told Jin that he had some kind of
answer in mind, but also knew Father Patrick wanted his version first.

“Because
it
felt
wrong. It a bloody…” Jin reminded himself they might not be
totally alone up on the roof.

“It’s
a product now,” Father Patrick said. “It’s always been a product, but now more
than ever.”

“What
makes you say that?” Jin asked.

Father
Patrick lifted one eyebrow. “This is the real deal.” Jin frowned in confusion.
“Jin. This is the pill, same as always. I’m saying that because, what else
would it be?”

“But…
but then why…”

“That’s
what I said before.” He tapped a finger to the ground where the word “tampered
with” was written in the dirt.

“I
don’t understand.”

“Well
what was the reaction? What was
your
reaction to it?”

Jin
saw the massacre again. He saw the scattered pills lying around, getting
dissolved in blood and filth like they were no more than gravel on the ground.
He saw himself stop as he saw the barcode.