Access Denied: The Bullseye

5. Old City

Lenny Marek had a strong sense of sportsmanship which was surprising considering his personality. He and Genevieve were playing chess again. And from the looks of how the pieces on the board were set up, Genevieve was winning.

Marek probably also thought Genevieve was about to win. He looked like he wanted to yell at her. His face was red and his fists were clenched at his sides. The only reason he probably wasn't pounding her to the ground right now was because she was a girl. And she was Naima's friend.

Genevieve didn't really care about winning or losing, but it would be nice to win one time before she left. Marek's ego needed to be bruised. When Marek lost his queen, Genevieve knew he wasn't going to resign early. She decided to give him the easy way out, "Can we stop playing now? I'm tired of this game and—"

Marek held his finger to his lips and shushed her. "Not when I'm about to win."

Genevieve restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Come on, Marek. I'm sure Naima could use some extra help."

She was sat facing the window. Unlike usual, they weren't playing outside that day. Today they were playing chess inside on the Naima's antique dining table. It was wooden and carved and looked like anyone barely ate on it. Right then, Genevieve looked outside the glass only to see clear skies and row of houses.

"You can help her all you want after we finish this game."

As Marek pushed his rook forward, a car backfired. It was strangely sharp and pierced through the wind. It might have been something else. It could have been a gunshot or someone celebrating a very late New Years. But the most sensible option was someone's engine didn't start right. It was just a backfire.

But the assurance didn't stop the strange gutting feeling filling inside her. It was beautiful day out—she could even hear birds chirping—but it was unsettling.

"It's your move, Genevieve," Lenny told her.

There should be something—a guide of sorts—to teach you how to react when you see a bullet ripping towards you. She dug her nail into the corner of her thumb nail. There was a moment's worth of hesitation and then she yelled: "Get down!"

A bullet shattered through the window, leaving the glass breaking apart in clear shiny pieces. They both took cover underneath Naima's antique table, the pieces on the chess board clattering across the table. Another series of bullets fired.

Her breathing was faster and felt heavier. Genevieve wanted to move from under the table. Any moment now, someone could come in through the door and shoot her. The only way she suppressed the fight or flight adrenaline was through digging her nails into her arm. Lenny looked not bothered in the least, but his fingers were red as they gripped onto the table leg as tightly as possible.

They were crouched down under the table waiting for the gunshots to stop. A chess piece finally fell off the table. The white queen piece rolled under the table, stopping once it hit Lenny Marek's knee.

"I think it stopped," he told her quietly as he picked up the queen piece. He started ducking out from under the table. "We can get out—"

Marek immediately crouched back under the table, gripping the chess piece in his hand like a knife when the front door's locked licked open. Genevieve turned to him and held her hand out. "Give me that."

"What?" he said, looking down at the white queen. "No, no—"

"But you don't need that," she harshly whispered. "I know nothing. Someone attacks you, you could punch them down with fighting and stuff. If they attack me—which they probably are going to—then I'm dead meat."