Someone's In My Head (WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2015)

Chapter Twenty-Three (Pt.2)

"Knock-knock-knock." Okay, three knocks. I had barely registered the sound was when a muffled voice rang out.

"Room service."

Oh. I exhaled in relief. "It's just room―wait a minute. Did we order anything?" I asked Tanya, who shook her head. She was visibly as confused as I was. The bucket of ice we ordered had been delivered, and since we had yet to decide whether to eat in or eat out, it's impossible for there to be room service. Unless...

"They've found us," I whispered. I heard three sharp intakes of breath. Tanya looked like she was about to hyperventilate again.

"You mean the police?" Phil hissed anxiously. Lenny scrambled up from the ground with renewed vigour. Tanya cringed.

"Honestly? I have no earthly idea." I admitted, tiptoeing carefully over to the door. "But I've a feeling that we're about to find out, one way or another."

Lenny, gleaning from past gaffe, didn't forget to remind me to "look through the peephole" this time. I was about to heed his advice when I heard Phil shout out "No, don't!"

Almost simultaneously, my entire body weight shifted involuntarily to the right, causing me to lose my balance entirely. I would've crashed into the standing lamp and caused quite an indiscreet racket if Phil's supreme survival instincts hadn't kicked in in time. With a nimble curl of my neck, Phil allowed my shoulder to absorb the brunt of the fall and rolled along the carpeted floor before coming to a stop in crouching position.

Wait, did I just use the word 'supreme' and 'Phil' in the same sentence?

Having just scattered my bearings over the four corners of the world, I spluttered. "What the hell are you doi―"

Right at that moment, the doorknob exploded, sending splinters of wood and shards of metal flying in every direction. Immediately after, consecutive crunching noises were heard as the doorknob was completely obliterated by the volley of bullets sent in its way.

I shuddered. Judging by the level where the doorknob was at, if I'd been peering unsuspectingly into the peephole just now, the shrapnel and the ricocheting bullets would've embedded themselves somewhere between my balls and my belly button.

Oh, and I'll most likely be dead before I even hit the ground. Yikes.

"That's definitely not the cops," I muttered. Then I realized that I had about five seconds before the baddies broke the door down and started shooting again.

"Tanya!" I hissed urgently. "Get into the closet and stay low." Leaping up, I beeped for Phil. "Please tell me you do have a game plan, Phil."

"Game plan? I was thinking more of an escape route here."

"WHAT?!" I almost had a heart attack. What did he want us to do? Jump out the window? I might be able to make the jump, but Tanya? She'll end up with another sprained ankle if she jumped. It's impossible.

Phil snickered. "Relax, man. I'm just fucking with you. Go to the toilet."

"Wha―"

"Just get your ass to the goddamn toilet, will ya?"

With my heartbeat racing like a Maserati going at top speed, I made a dash for the toilet, which was just to the left of the door. Once I got in, it was all Phil's show. Deftly, he unscrewed the cistern cover and lifted the heavy ceramic plate from the tank.

"Do you play baseball?" Phil asked suddenly.

"Why are you asking me that?" I shouted frantically. For the record, I sounded like the typical fat guy from every Scary Movie episode, about to get his balls chopped off by a chainsaw-wielding nutjob. Yeah. I was that freaked out.