VI

It was Friday night, or Saturday morning, and I slept through dinner once again and woke up by 5:56 in the morning or something.

I was yawning as I walk down the main stairs when I saw Ali silently entering the front door (I recognized her silhouette). Through the windows near the door, I can see her distracted, grim face through the moonlight.

Her forehead's creased and sweat formed around it. Her shirt was also undeniably wet as it clung to her like a second skin.

"Where were you?" I asked, when I realized she haven't felt or seen me as she was about to head to the left stairs near her room. She seemed shocked as she flinched with my voice. She didn't even turn around immediately.

I was already behind her when she twirled around and smiled at me. The air around her seemed different, like earth or mud and something painfully familiar but can't seem to remember.

"Are you okay?" I asked her when I can faintly see her pale face through the dark. She's also clutching her stomach tightly like it hurts or something. "Why? Are you hungry?"

She meekly nodded her head "no". She smiled, and once again, it was off and odd. "Ahm... I'm just gonna go upstairs and catch a wink. I'll explain tomorrow. Good night." She stood on her toes and kissed my cheek and bid a good night as she hastily walked towards the left wing while muttering some curses.

She's acting weird, and it wasn't even the first time. But every time I ask her what's wrong, she'll just dodge the question. She never even explained even though she told me she will.

One time, I even saw a wound on her lower back and a gunshot scar near it, when she stretched and her shirt raised.

What was weirder is, she always seems to get caught in accidents after accidents. One time, her motorcycle, which came a month and half after she did, from the States, got wrecked and needed a big, big repair the repair shop owner even said it would be better to just buy a new one. Ali explained that someone ran over her, but she luckily managed to jump off the motorcycle and got away with a few scratches and bruises.

She also got caught up in a robbery inside a small, coffee shop (which is really weird as the suspects seemed highly capable to actually rob a bank rather than a cafe, but then they got caught, so maybe it's just the looks they all got).

What's worse is when she was with me and we got caught up in a shootout.

I volunteered driving her that day, when she said she'll buy a few things in the mall, as her motorbike is still under repair. Because it was weekend, I suggested for us to come to Mall Of Asia and had a fun road trip with her.

She seemed rather tensed that day, so I suggested for us to eat dinner near the seaside.

While waiting for the food, she excused herself to the bathroom. I was worried as she was really not her usual, bubbly self. I thought it was maybe because of the past incidents. So, I thought about a way to cheer her up.

But before Ali could even sat back, the whole place was filled with gun shots. I immediately pulled her down with me and hid behind whatever near us. I heard her muttered a curse and looked around frankly.

"Let's go there," she said and pointed on a direction towards where we parked and away from the gun shots.

I wound my arms around her and hold her arms as I dragged her towards where she pointed at. I made sure we are low, but quick, so we won't accidentally get hit by stray bullets.

We got around the mall and a few meters away from the parking lot when a bulky guy suddenly shows up and speak in a foreign language I didn't understand.

He pointed his gun towards us, but I already made a move, dashing forward and punching his guts. The force I put on my fist, plus the force of my dash, was enough to make him stumble back and fall.

I was about to take Ali's arm again when I didn't find her from where she should be. My heart stopped beating in fear and I froze, as an image of Ali swimming in her own pool of blood with a fresh gun wound flashed in my mind.

I shook my head and focused, then frankly looked around for her.

I saw her, not too far away from where I left her. A tall bulky man was dragging her by his arm before she swiftly jumped and tangled both her legs on the stranger's arms. She was basically hanging upside down from the guys arm, before the big guy dropped on its stomach, swayed away by his own force from pulling Ali, and the force Ali took from jumping and somehow kicking the guy's nape area with her long legs before wounding her legs around his arm.

She, then, twisted his arm without untangling herself from him, and then, slowly, made her way around his back, mounting him. With his right arm painfully pinned by her right knee and leg, she took the guy by its chin, and pulled his head back, choking him.

Before I could even see if she successfully brought him to unconsciousness, I felt a strong force and pain at my back. I grunted and fell on my knees.

I looked behind me quick enough to see another swing of bat coming my way from the top. I dropped flat to the ground and rolled away and stood up the moment the metal bat hit the cement.

I dashed forward and used the same technique earlier to hit him powerfully. I grimaced as I felt a tingling pain around my wrist. I'm forcing my wrist way too much.

It dropped to its knees, clutching his stomach, so I took advantage and delivered my knee to meet his face as grabbed his hair from the back and pulled it towards my knee, adding to the force I had inflicted. He was goner in seconds.

I looked back again and saw Ali clutching her stomach, with two new guys on her feet.

"You done? Or you want to exercise some more?" she tried to joke before walking towards me slowly, still putting pressure at the area around her stomach.

"Silly." I smirked. How odd can this girl be?

I hold her on both her shoulders and checked if she has any wounds on her.

"Are you okay? No wounds?" I asked.

She shook her head "no", but grimaced. "I do feel like I'll have some bruises tomorrow," she said, pertaining to her stomach.

"Well, it's better than getting shot anywhere in your body. Come on, let's go leave," I said before pulling her with me, looking around, making sure there's no more surprise attack.

"Touché. It really is worse than this," she said, whispered the last sentence, but I certainty heard it as I was observing her, checking if she had sustained more injuries, she failed to told me about, aside from her bruising stomach.

I, then, remembered the scar I saw on her. Was that really a gun wound scar? Who really is Aliyah Jane de Guzman?

©All Rights Reserved. PulangNyebe