a dead body.
On the fourth-floor landing, JD glanced back. Khoder was leaning against the railing, bent forward with a hand pressed to his side.
“Come on,” JD said. “Just two more levels.”
“Bro? What happened to the fourth floor?”
“I only said that to get us in the building.”
Khoder’s eyes widened in slow realization. “Brainy shit, bro.”
“I have my moments.”
When they reached the sixth floor, Soo-hyun was already waiting outside apartment 6E—home of Omar Garang, owner of Angel Angles Cleaning Service, and their ticket into Zero Lee’s apartment.
“I haven’t walked this many steps in fucking ever, bro.”
“Dagchyeo,” Soo-hyun spat. “This is it.”
“What are we going to say to him?” JD asked.
“I’ll let Se?or Sting do the talking.” They reached into their backpack and retrieved a small taser cased in black and yellow. On one side of the weapon was a cartoon bee with a bolt of lightning where its stinger should be.
“Wait a minute,” JD said. “I’ve got money; we can pay him off.”
Soo-hyun ignored him. “Khoder, I need you here,” they said. “Take off the hat, muss up your hair, and try and look innocent.”
Khoder’s best version of innocence was tearful sobbing, so he frowned, scrunched up his eyes, and made his chest jerk and shudder.
“Shit,” Soo-hyun said, jutting out their lower lip. “Kid’s a natural.”
“Soo-hyun,” JD whispered. “We don’t have to do it like this. What happened to calm?”
“We don’t have time for calm.” They shoved JD back, knocked on the door, and stood out of sight so that a destitute-looking Khoder was the only one visible through the door’s spy hole.
After a few seconds, Soo-hyun knocked again. The three of them listened carefully, trying to pick footsteps out from the ambient noise of the building.
The door opened with a quiet squeak, revealing a thin-framed Sudanese man, wearing a towel tied at his waist, held in place with one hand. “What’s wrong, boy?”
Before Khoder could respond, Soo-hyun leaped forward, knocking Omar back and slamming the door open with their shoulder. The taser pulsed and crackled in their hand, spitting an inch of blue electricity which they stuck against the man’s throat. He collapsed, hitting the floor a split second after his towel did.
“Cock!” Khoder said, staring at the man’s genitals.
“Shut up and get inside.” JD shoved Khoder into the apartment, grabbed the naked man under the arms and dragged him back from the open doorway. As soon as his legs were out of the way, Soo-hyun slammed the door shut.
Omar Garang groaned and twitched, kicking out as he tried to stand. Soo-hyun triggered the taser again.
“Don’t!” JD yelled.
“What?”
“I’m still holding him.”
Soo-hyun smirked. “You’d hardly feel it.”
“Find a chair,” JD said. “One with armrests.”
Soo-hyun disappeared deeper into the apartment, and JD lowered the man to the floor.
“Kid,” JD said, switching to the first codename that came to mind. “Find his keys, wallet, phone. And search the place—just because no one else is on the lease doesn’t mean he lives alone.”
“Here!” Soo-hyun returned to the main living area, pushing a tattered office chair on black plastic casters.
“What’s happening?” Omar’s eyes searched, unfocused. He threw a punch, but it only glanced off JD’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” JD said.
Soo-hyun held the chair steady, and JD lifted Omar off the ground. The man’s arms and genitals flopped heavily from side to side as JD hefted him onto the seat. Omar struggled half-heartedly, still dulled by the pain. JD reached into his rucksack for zip ties and fastened Omar’s wrists to the curved plastic armrests of the chair. Next, he crossed Omar’s feet one over the other and zip-tied his ankles together.
He stepped back to examine his handiwork, then put the towel across Omar’s lap and tucked it under his ass and thighs, if only to stop Khoder from staring.
“Who are you?” Omar asked.
“It’s nothing personal,” Soo-hyun said; “we just need to borrow your van.” They sat on the arm of a leather couch. The corners were covered in cat scratches, white scars in the black.
JD crossed over to the window and sat on the sill, his muscles exhausted from climbing the steps and then hauling Omar’s weight around. He glanced out at the street: it had started to rain again, and a procession of umbrellas—mostly black, but plenty in blue and red—paraded down the footpath.
“JD! Are you ignoring me?” Soo-hyun said.
“What?”
“I said, what next?”
JD inhaled deep and then sighed. “I don’t know, Shades—I don’t normally work with hostages. But you could start by not using my name.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Omar offered.
Khoder returned clutching Omar’s wallet, a phone