Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ One Eight 0 Four ❯ One-Shot

One Eight 0 Four

By Fanilia

 

 

 

Nina sat admiring the best of her own works. Who would think that her paintings would be hanging at the opening of one of the top galleries in the entire city?

”Why me?” She had asked when a representative of the gallery had called. The artist whose works were to be at the opening had several requirements. One of those requirements, he insisted, was that there should be a display of some unknown recent artist. Nina definitely fit into the category of unknown. Luckily, Nina's cousin was married to a friend of the gallery's manager.

The main showing area of the crowded gallery was hot, a drastic difference from the chill in the October air outside. The artistic in-crowd stood in groups, sipping drinks and discussing the artist's newest works and his changes in style. Several pieces had already been sold and the show was declared a success. In the section where Nina's works hung, the temperature was lower, but then without much traffic, it was quieter too.

'This is the most exciting day of my life,' she thought as she gazed up. The face in the painting looked back at her mocking the thought. Painting that thing in the first place had been foolish enough, let alone showing it in a gallery. Her ego, and the passage of time, had overcome her caution; it was her best work after all. Who would have thought the face behind the barrel of a gun was real?

It happened long ago; at times the memories had seemed almost washed clean from her mind. Once in a while, they would surface again when she looked at that ugly scar or felt that sharp pain whenever she was tired from walking. However, the eyes in the painting always managed to cut through the haze. Even now, the mocking eyes were tunneling into a past best left forgotten….

It had been a beautiful Indian summer that year. Nina always hated going into the city to shop but the weekend was the worst, and the weather was not helping. The unseasonably warm days made it hard to decide how to dress. Nina went with a three quarter's length sleeve button down shirt in rust and took a jacket with her. She let her amber hair hang loose framing her heart shaped face and bringing out the golden flecks in her deep brown eyes. The addition of a little makeup and she was ready to face the crowds.

She should have come earlier she chided herself. Her brother's birthday was in two days and she had known what she was getting him for over a month.

 

'Procrastinator, that's what you are.'

 

The thought flashed thought her head then was gone as she watched the wind kicked up at the fallen leaves along the walk twirling them in a circular dance before whisking them away. Although there was a good hour, maybe more before sunset the wind was already brisk, the bitter bite of October had settled in. At least the crowds had thinned.

Nina had just emerged from the small coin dealer's shop, her final stop of the day. The bell above the door declared her departure in the same metallic tinkle that it had announced her arrival. She turned as the sound was cut off by the final closing of the door. Smiling at the old man behind the counter and waving one last good bye, she turned up the street. She had just enough time to sit and enjoy something from the coffee shop on the corner before the drive back home. It would soon be too cold to sit outside.

She made herself look the other way when she passed the showcase of pastries and cakes that stood between the door and the counter. The young man behind the register gave her a terminally bored look as he handed her the covered steaming cup and took her money. She stopped to add cream and sugar, snapped on the lid back on and carried it outside to one of the tables facing the west. Bathed in the late afternoon sunlight; the other side of the street was lined with dwarf maples in all the colours of autumn.

Setting her coffee down she put her pack, which she used as a purse, on the table and started digging around for the card she had picked out earlier. She wrote `Stephen' on the outside of the envelope; Steve hated it when she used his given name. But the card inside would make up for it; she knew her little brother's taste and the card was full of off-colour humour. After adding her own personal birthday wishes, she slipped the card into the envelope and set it aside. Digging into the pack once again, she pulled out the small flat sack from the coin shop. She opened it and pulled out the dull silver coin encased in plastic. The coin had been a good price and was good for someone just starting to collect.

Steve's interest in Nina's coin collecting had been a recent one, but like her he had the collecting bug, she could tell. He already knew quite a bit about old and rare coins, if a sixteen year old took the time to read something other then the latest gaming magazine it was serious.

Flipping the coin from front to back she stared at it while thinking. Today her procrastinating had paid off. If she had come into town last weekend she would have missed seeing a rare coin that Mr. Springer had just received on consignment. The elderly shopkeeper had rambled on telling Nina absentmindedly how a bigger dealer from up north had used Mr. Springer's shop for some of his clients to pick up purchases. The dealer saved on insurance, when compared to the direct shipping of higher valued coins, and Mr. Springer got a nice payment for receiving the package and watching as it was signed for by the buyer. It was working out so well the dealer had worked out an arrangement to use Mr. Springer's shop for consignments. Along with the last package was the first batch of consignment coins. He had just gotten both in this morning and the buyer had already picked up his parcel.

Nina was starting to wonder if Mr. Springer was ever going to show her the coin, or just rattle around under the counter while chatting, when he set a dark blue velvet lined tray on the counter. The tray contained a single coin encased in a thick plastic holder. Nina's felt the breath catch in her chest. “May I?” She asked her fingers hovering just over the coin.

“Certainly”, he beamed “I just knew you would share my excitement!”

She picked it up from the tray; examining both front and back, she looked for signs of wear. There were un-circulated coins from that era, but this showed slight signs of use, enough to drop the value. “What can you tell me about this coin's worth?” He teased; the lines etched into his face creased in a mischievous smile.

”Nothing you don't already know.”

“That's true, but humour this old man.” Again with the smile. Nina couldn't help but smile herself as she got ready to answer. Asking her about coins was like asking a sports fan about his favourite sport. Just as he knew all the stats of the various teams as well as whom the best players were; Nina knew about coins. Turn of the century American coins happened to be her passion and Mr. Springer knew it.

“Ok, ok. The N.G.C. grade is VF20. It's a small 3 bust; I can see where they decided on the grade, the detail is slightly worn on the hair and stars to the left side of the Liberty on the front; on the back it's wore on the eagle's head and across the shield. Any more wear and it would have been graded lower. The detail in the bust makes up for it though. There were also large bust strikes in the early 1800's. I'll guess it at about $5,000.00.” He shook his head at her pointing up with his thumb. “Fifty-five hundred?”

“Close…this one will go for $5,650.00. Looks like my little shop will be here a while longer. I had been considering retiring; you know with the economy the way it is and all.” He voiced letting out a relieved sigh as he held out his hand. The conversation ended with them both wistful about someday seeing a single cast 1801 or, even better, an 1804. They both agreed the 1804 would be a collectors' dream.

She finished her coffee, put the card back in the pack, and stuffed the coin in her pants' pocket, just to be on the safe side. She needed to get going; she'd taken longer than she had intended and it was still about a five minute walk back to the car park. If she hurried, she could still stop at the market on the way home and pick up some sticky rolls for the morning. The wind gusts had picked up again and the air's bite was colder. She was glad she'd brought the jacket, pulling it tighter around her with her free hand and tilting her head down against dust that occasionally blew into her face.

Nina didn't see him as she rounded the corner and he, it seemed, was in something of a hurry so he'd been moving too quickly to stop. The two collided with enough force to knock them both off balance and send Nina's pack to the ground releasing its contents on the walk. They both mumbled oaths, hers under her breath, his more vocal and in an accent that definitely was not from around here. He looked quickly around then turned back to her with a small smile of apology creasing the corners of his mouth.

 

“The wind,” he said in that same throaty accented voice. “I should have watched better it was blowing towards you, it was my fault entirely.”

He was on the tall side, but just barely, definitely less than six foot. His dark brown hair was wind tossed, it layered in sections over his forehead and over dark lashed mahogany eyes. He wasn't handsome but he was definitely good-looking.

 

“I, um…” Nina replied, realizing if she didn't gather up the scattered contents of her pack before the next gust of wind, she would be chasing after them. She bent down and started scooping them back into her pack. He also bent down and did the same, picking up the things that had landed closer to him. A tube of lipstick, an envelope addressed to someone named Stephen, and an empty bag from that coin dealer's shop.

Roman could hear the car's approach; the wine of the engine was unmistakable. The scent of her hair, those big brown eyes combined with his Slovakian upbringing and he'd all but forgotten he was standing in plain view. He should have just kept going and dunked into the pub like he'd planned. As he stood up he discretely reached into his jacket's inner pocket and removed something from it. He dropped the item un-noticed into the empty coin dealers sack, stuffed the handful into her pack, and without warning grabbed the girl pushing her back up against the building's facade and kissing her as the car went past. They wouldn't notice a pair of lovers stealing a kiss along a public street. The girl struggled against him for a moment before he felt her grow still.

Roman was caught by surprise by the change in her a mere moment before he felt pain shooting through his upper thigh as her knee just missed the sensitive area between his legs. “Damn it!” he breathed into her mouth but he didn't break the kiss, he held her tighter pinning her against the building hoping the car was far enough along not to notice either movement. The car braked to a sudden stop and he could hear the voices of the men as they quickly emerged.

“There he is get him!” one man shouted, “Grab them both.”

Roman turned at the sound… The car was past the intersection, the men sprinting across towards the two. The car sped up and continued the way it came. Why hadn't it just backed up? The intersection had been clear. If it doubled around it would cut him off before he reached the pub. They must have known his destination, and seeing him on the street had only been lucky for them.

 

“Hovno.” The native curse word slipped out; he'd been crossed. The papers he needed in order to disappear until things cooled off would never make it to his hands, if they had ever existed. He couldn't loose track of the girl yet either, if he grabbed her pack now it would be a dead giveaway. He grabbed her by the arm pulling her with him across the intersection at right angles to the men giving chase and away from the pub.

Roman heard a whizzing sound and felt the spray of concrete shards flying off the building beside them as a bullet grazed it above and to the right of them. The girl next to him flinched as the tiny specks hit her arm and hair. Again, she did the unexpected; instead of screaming, she wrenched her arm from his grasp so she could swing the pack onto her back, pointing to the right with her now-free hand.

She couldn't believe what was happening, not twenty minutes ago she had been sipping coffee and thinking about the coin shop, her brother, the market… normal things. Now she was running, being chased by strange men; men with accents like the man who ran beside her. Nina knew she was the other half of `get them both'; being shot at met her situation was serious. She pointed to the right and as they rounded the corner she turned to the man running beside her.

 

“Across the street… to the left side… around the corner,” Nina gave the broken directions between breaths as she ran, “Movies should be out… traffic.”

The car that had gone to cut Roman off at the pub would no doubt be coming around soon. As they rounded the corner, he saw the walks were filling with people; the cinemas on both sides of the street were letting out. The two were swallowed by the moving crowd.

“I normally avoid this street block on my way to the car park.” Nina was gasping a little but still keeping up a brisk pace. The crowd won't thin till after it, most of them are heading for the car park too.”

“Good then we go to your car.”

Nina looked around behind her relieved that they seemed to have lost those men in the crowd. “Not we, me. I'm not with you.” She shrugged the pack off her shoulders and began to dig for the keys inside.

Roman grabbed the pack from her. “They think you are. Now what level are you parked on?” They had reached the car park and entered the stair well along with a group of others.

“Two.” They both exited on the second level. Nina led the way to her car, a small, blue two-door parked in the centre section. She pulled open the drivers door with out the need of a key. “Lock's broke.” Was all she said in the way of an explanation.

Nina reached over and flipped up the lock on the passenger side with a look that dared him to comment on her having locked it when the other didn't work. She retrieved her pack feeling inside for her keys. “Who the hell are you and…and…why?” Her voice broke and she was unable to mask the fear in her eyes.

“Roman, my name is Roman. I took something, they want it back, but I'm not ready to give it back.” He turned grabbing a cap Steve had left in the back seat. “They will be looking for a woman alone; I'd be smart to hide which is why I'm not.” He picked up the map in the council between the two front seats and opened it to hide the rest of his face.

Instead of getting the keys, Nina pushed them deeper into her pack. “They're gone…the keys.”

“What do you mean they're gone?”

“They were on the sidewalk by you; didn't you pick them up?”

“Hovno!”

“I have a spare…under the hood, in one of those magnetic boxes.” Nina popped the hood latch and started to climb out of the car her pack still in her hand.

Roman grabbed the pack away from her “Hurry up.”

Nina could have spit fire. Had he realized she meant to take off leaving him sitting in the car? Her cell was in her pack; outside, she could have gotten a signal and called for help. She was reaching for the box when she heard a noise behind her. The next instant a large hand was covering her mouth.

 

“Quietly,” a man said into her ear as he removed his hand.

 

Roman looked up when the hood closed and groaned when he saw the girl round the car. She was being held with a gun discretely to her side. With a flick of the gun, he motioned for Roman to get out of the car. Everything had gone terribly wrong, both he and the girl might end up dead. Hell, he hadn't even bothered to ask the girl her name. He got out of the car, handing the girl's pack back to her. He might still get away; the pack needed to stay close.

Nina was quiet. What good would it have done to yell? She was in the trunk of a moving car, in the dark and scared. They had hit Roman when they had both been forced into the cramped space. He was either still out or he, like her, didn't feel like talking. The steady sound of tires on pavement gave way to the crunch of gravel, along with the jolt of riding over uncared-for roadway. There was a second car behind them; she could hear it now that they were on gravel and traveling slower.

 

“What is your name?”

 

She heard the sound of his voice, very close, in the disembodied darkness.

“What is your name?” Roman repeated again when she said nothing.

“Nina.”

“I am sorry Nina.”

Before he could say any more the cars came to a stop. Doors opened and then were closed on both vehicles. The clink of chain falling way…. The swish of a gate opening…. Movement as the cars slowly moved through, then the sound of men speaking as they returned. Car doors shutting and again the cars moved along crunching gravel, this time very slowly. The journey's end was near.

“With or without me, if you get a chance to run, take it. Don't look back and don't stop.” Roman's voice was just above a whisper.

Nina was digging around in her pack. Why didn't she carry pepper spray like normal girls? Her hand closed around her flashlight; it was small, thin, and light weight, just perfect to see the walkway in the dark, as a weapon it was a joke. She turned it on and saw that she was lying almost face to face with Roman. She knew at once he was going to kiss her again and in the shallow light it seemed the only sane thing to happen in this mess of insanity.

 

“Nina,” he breathed her name softly.

Their lips met pressing together. Nina's lips parted as the kiss deepened. It was a short, bittersweet kiss, the kind meant to say `I'm sorry.' A small sigh broke the silence afterwards. “Never pass up the opportunity to kiss a pretty girl; it might be your last.”

The cars stopped and their engines were switched off. Nina switched off the flashlight and stuffed it into her jeans. The trunk opened. Nina and Roman were hauled out into the open lot. The man that had caught Nina in the car park was speaking to two others a short distance ahead of them. She shivered in the growing cold, the jacket not as warm as it had seemed before sundown. Her pack was again on her back and her arm was held in the iron grip of a man with reddish-brown hair and a burly beard. He was tall and broad shouldered and like the others dressed in dark clothing. He kept her back from the group as Roman went forward into the circle of light created in the night by an old-style mercy vapour light.

Nina looked around. The buildings were of brick and the yard had stacks of old bricks amongst rusting and decaying machinery. The windows were boarded up; long unused doors were locked and bolted. In the largest building was a gaping hole in the brickwork's outer wall. In the growing darkness, it looked like the gaping mouth of some unknown apparition. The sound of an argument drew her attention back to Roman. Nina tried to hear what was being said but the exchange wasn't in English.

It all happened so quickly; there was struggle, and then came the sound; it echoed off the buildings, two pops, much like firecrackers, followed by total silence. Roman and the other went down at the same time the man holding onto Nina went rigid and groaned. Then like the others, he crumpled to the ground.

Nina reacted quickly sprinting towards the gaping brick mouth in the side of the building. She didn't look back. She ran like Roman had said she should. She launched herself through the hole and kept going, although no lights were inside the crumbling building the moon was near full and its light shown an eerie green on the decaying machinery and floor from the skylights above. Her heart was hammering so loud that she thought it must have been echoing off the walls around her. She stumbled on unseen obstacles in her path until she was forced to retrieve the flashlight from her pocket and flick it on. She was alone.

She went deeper into the old brickworks hoping to find the buildings other end and a way to slip out unseen. She used the flashlight on and off to keep from tripping. Past the second large, open area was a long hallway; on each side were the remains of the ovens used to bake the bricks she had seen in the stacks outside. She thought she heard a sound from the other end, quickly shutting off her flashlight she stood very still and listened. She heard the sound again at the other end. Only this time it was moving away.

Nina stood still, her heart hammering, for what seemed an eternity before deciding to double back the way she came. She turned at the same time switching on the light. Nina was unable to suppress her scream as the light illuminated the barrel of the gun pointing directly at her. Behind the gun was the face of the man from the car park. His eyes shown red then quickly turned dark as the irises constricted. In the light, she could make out those features that the barrel didn't obscure. Unruly, raven-colored hair waved as it framed a face that didn't look like that of a killer. He was tall, dressed in black leather and jeans. He watched her with the gleam of a hunter having cornered his prey.

Nina followed him back along the way she had come; back to whatever fate awaited her. As they entered the first room, the one lit by the skylights she tripped. Losing her balance, she grabbed a piece of machinery to keep her from falling. One of the rusting parts broke loose and fell to the floor with a loud clatter. A shot rang out from the other side of the old building; Nina felt the hot burning pain in her side as the bullet struck her. Her hand went to her hip and as she drew it away her fingers were tinged an odd reddish green in the filtered moonlight. She felt strong arms about her as the world went black.

Jon was mad as hell; some of the men in his families employ were less then idiots. Shooting an unarmed girl, that moron wouldn't be shooting anything again until his hand healed. All that was left was to tie up the loose ends and then to explain how everything had gone so wrong.

Jon looked down into the filth of the alley behind the stores between where he'd first spotted Roman and the car park. The light on this end was out, throwing the junk and dumpsters pushed up against the buildings into semi darkness. He had carried the girl from the car himself, leaning her up against the side of a dumpster. There had been enough mistakes tonight. The girl, unconscious and bleeding, had been an innocent. And Roman would never be telling anyone what he had done with the money he'd skimmed. The money be damned, Roman had betrayed the family. Roman's mother would never know the truth behind her son's death.

He picked up her pack, grabbing a hand full of her things and stuffing them into his pocket. He dumped the rest out next to her picking up her wallet and stripping it of cash, credit cards, and her ID, then picked up the girl's cell phone. Jon heard her stirring as he crouched down next to her placing a hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out.

 

“If you want to live be quiet and listen.” The man's accent voice was like Roman's only deeper. “Don't speak, don't move. You were robbed, you never saw their faces. They took your money and left you for dead.”

 

He leaned closer his body blocking the faint light as he flipped open the cell phone and entered `911.' He pressed the phone into her hand then slipped her ID into his pocket with the other things. “Wait `til you hear the car leave before you hit send.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “Don't forget.” He stood up and walked away.

“You're sick.” The comment came from inside the car.

“Maybe I am but I never pass up the opportunity to kiss a pretty girl; it might be my last….”

The policeman who visited Nina in the hospital said she had been lucky; if her assailants had taken her cell she might have died in that alley. The bullet had hit the coin in her pocket and splintered. One of the shards had nicked her hip. Other than maybe a slight limp and an ugly scar that no one would see, the doctors had told her she would make a full recovery.

Someone sat down on the seat next to Nina, bringing her mind back to the present. “This is more my style,” The man said. “Not some sculpture made with a broken chair as the focal point.”

Nina froze at the accented voice; her thoughts were playing tricks on her. She turned to look at an older version of the man in the painting. There was a little greying at his temples, and a leaner more matured look to his face. He was dressed in black, this time the black tie and suit that spoke of wealth and prestige. He definitely was an invited guest at tonight's showing.

 

“I saw the painting before the opening; I was here last night while my cousin was hanging the last of his works.” He replied as if reading the unspoken question in her eyes. “I must be leaving; I just stopped by to give you back your things.”

Standing he removed something from his pocket, placing it on the chair beside Nina then simply walked away back into the adjoining room. Nina watched him disappear, and then looking down she smiled. There was the card she had bought her brother, the name Stephen penned across the front. Beside it was the bag from the coin dealers shop. She moved the card aside and picked up the bag. It had been empty, the coin that had been in it was in her collection, dented by the bullet, its worth was destroyed, but as a memento of what really happened to her it was one of the things that had saved her life, the other had just walked out of the room.

But the bag wasn't empty; from the feel, it had a coin in it. She pulled it out and almost dropped it as her mouth fell open. The missing piece to the puzzle sat in her hand. Roman must have stolen money; then turned around and used that money to buy this. No wonder he had not just taken off running, leaving her standing where she was. She'd wondered why. If he had left her, would he still be alive today? He must have regretted slipping the coin into her pack as soon as he'd done it.

Those men had gotten back what he stole; they got it back that night she'd almost died. And now they had given it away with interest. Market values had doubled since that chilly October night, the coin in her hand was worth half a million then; now it was worth a million.

Nina glanced up at the painting and then back at the coin in its protective plastic casing. Now she was glad she had painted it and showed it. She intended to keep the coin. She had earned it hadn't she… One eight 0 four; wouldn't Mr. Springer be excited when she showed him an un-circulated 1804 draped-bust silver dollar.