Disastrous

9

It turns out the homeless man’s name is Timothy, but he goes by Tim. That’s what I figured out in my night of talking to him.

I had told Tim everything from being kidnapped leading up to that exact moment when I was seated on the bench.

He pointed out that they probably were still looking for me, and most likely had already found me but were just simply watching me and waiting to see what I would do.

Tim admitted to me that he had joined a gang of sorts about a year ago.  It was one of the lower ranking ones, as he described, and was less like a gang and more like a hippie sort of band of people who stayed together because they had nowhere else to go.  He explained that they would be willing to have someone like me around, even if it was for a short while.

“We’re not like other gangs,” He reassured as he hobbled up the stairs that lead to an abandoned-looking apartment building, with me walking right next to him, “People come and go all the time. We have no secrets,”

The first floor was empty, not a soul in sight.  But Tim led me to a closet that had a staircase leading to a level below us, and that’s where we went.

There were so many people, maybe twenty or so down here.  There were no private rooms besides bathrooms, and mats for sleeping lined the walls. 

It looked like I stepped into the hideout of a seventies cult, with everything being in bright colors and the peacefulness of it.  

There were women sporting summer dresses and baggy jeans with crop tops, the men a little more covered up but the ones with a little more style had matching jackets and pants with no shirt.

It was odd to me how I thought I would have recognized a few of them.  Like a girl who looked just like Jake, and a boy looking like the off-brand version of Sam, just a little taller with darker hair.

“Who are these people?” I asked, and Tim waved to quite a few.

“Hello everyone!” He shouted with a proud smile, “I’ve brought a friend, she goes by- what’s your name dear?” He asked in a hushed tone quickly.

“Kiara”

“Kiara!” Tim repeated in a like volume to before.  “Let me introduce you to some friends.  You might like these folks, they’re around your age, yeah?”

He directed me over to the people I spotted before, motioning back and forth as the girl held out her hand.  She was very pretty, one of the many women who dressed in the crop top and jean “fit”.  

“Jillian,” She smiled her greeting, leaning in to hug me, “Jillian Webber, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Kiara,” I laughed, but shot her a confused smile when she nodded.

“I know. I’ve heard so much about you,” She winked at me before laughing once again.

I turned to the other guy who oddly looked like Sam.  “I’m Ben,” He held out his hand, giving me a firm handshake before finishing his statement, “It’s nice to have someone new and young around here. Most of the people joining us now are just homeless people trying to get off the streets,”

Tim shot him a look of disapproval, and Ben added onto his thought in a rushed manner, “We love welcoming everyone, though,”

“Golbach!” I turned my head, half expecting  to see someone yelling for Sam but instead a well-built man walking up to us with a bowl in his hands, “They got the Miso soup in today!” 

He stopped when he reached us, handing Ben the bowl, “Thank you,” The dirty-blonde boy smiled, and the unfamiliar man looked around the small circle of people until his eyes landed on me.

“Is she the new girl?” He asked, and when Tim gave a hint of a nod, the tanned person smiled, “ ‘Love to see it. I’m Mitchell, Mitch for short,”

He wrapped his muscular arms around me in a tight hug, and even though he was wearing a hoodie I could feel the strength he had in them through the fabric.

“I’m Kiara,” I grinned.  Though I would never tell him, he sure was attractive.  They all were, in their own way.

Tim patted my back before he began to walk away, “Please enjoy yourself, they will take care of you I promise,” He shouted over his shoulder before walking up to a group of similar-looking people, what I would assume to be his family.

“Seeya Tim,” I waved, already familiarizing myself with their friendly mannerisms.  

I turned back to the three people he left me with, who all had dark expressions on their faces.

“Uh,” I let my hand fall awkwardly to my side, “Is something wrong?”

“What did you tell him?” JIllian asked, grabbing my arm to pull me closer to her.  Though her grip was gentle, her tone was questionable.

“My past,” I let out quietly, and a groan escaped Mitch’s lips.

“Look,” He began, holding out his arms in front of him when he spoke, “You’re probably a ferkin’ cool girl, Kiara.  But you’re dumb.  We know who you are.  Well,” He corrected, “These two better than me.  How much did you tell them about the Trapboys?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, politely pulling myself away from Jillian’s grasp, “He was the one who told me all about the Trapboys.  I know nothing about them,”

“She’s playing stupid,” Ben muttered to Jillian, who took over the conversation from there.

“We know you aren’t from around here, which is why he probably had to tell you so much.  But this city is bugged, okay? You can’t just go around giving out information on gangs,” She informed me, and I know deep down she wasn’t so mean but was trying to put up a stern front in front of everyone.

“No, I seriously don’t get it.  All I know is that Cole is the leader of the Trapboys and the big bosses practically favor them,” I admitted, holding my hands out in front of me.

“Sounds about right,” Ben added sarcastically before laughing, which brought a few people to look in our direction so he lowered his tone even quieter than before, “Cole is Colby, ring a bell?” He asked, and it clicked in my head so I stayed silent.

“So I’ve been kidnapped by the Trapboys?” I asked, looking over at Mitch and Jillian.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Mitch agreed, a grin reappearing on his face.

“Now what’s this have to do with Tim?” I asked, causing the worry to reappear on their faces.

With a heavy sigh, Ben wrung his hands together, “There’s a reason there’s only three of us young people here.  We’re spies for the Trapboys.  And spies are good at finding other spies, or atleast we are.  Tim is a spy, and after some time we put the pieces of the puzzle together.  Everything we told Tim, every plan and secret, was something another gang found out about, which is not good,”

“This gang - which we don’t say the name of with these people around,” Mitch spoke out of the side of his mouth, motioning to the dozens of people spread out throughout the basement, “Has one goal and one goal only that we’re concerned about, which is killing Colby,”

With a sinking feeling, I realized what I did wrong.

I had told Tim  everything I knew about the Trapboys. Shit.