BALANCING WORLDS

Resting his head on his palms, Zach went back to his meditative mode. It was unusually hard for him today; it was like a horrible orchestra playing in his mind, tumbling his emotions, his brain throbbing with a splitting headache. Things weren't going well for him, as he sat in the interrogating room bruised and bloody. For the moment the room was bare, a monochrome grey, Zach would've felt completely lonely if it wasn't for the miniature camera peering at him while he was shackled to his chair. Zach didn't particularly care about the camera, he couldn't care about anything; not with the constant numbness in his head.

The door suddenly opened, a bright blinding light lit up the dull room, but only for a moment. As the automated doors locked behind him, Chief Kepler sat down on the only other vacant chair. Kepler surveyed Zach: the boy didn't look very injured but was covered with blood. He had been unconscious for almost ten straight hours. Now being awake he looked just as disheveled; watery eyes; black hair, white with dust; still adorning the tattered clothes.

Kepler didn't think much about sympathy, and kept his tone resolute, "Hmph, you're just a little more than a boy, what were you thinking?"

Zach didn't answer and Kepler didn't expect any, and continued without waiting, "I don't think you have any other option but to tell us everything that had happened." Kepler narrowed his cool blue eyes as he leaned back in his chair, now, waiting for an answer.

Zach ran through the whole unfortunate incident through his head but didn't respond.

24 HOURS EARLIER…

Zach was at the theatre with Allie, not that he was a fan of plays or would even bother spending a fortune on it. Allie was Zach's personal manager; she'd managed to sneak in a few passes beforehand.

Zach studied the whole theatre with the eyepiece, ignoring Allie, who waited impatiently at his side, dying to know the details of the mission. Part of Zach's mission was to keep itself a secret, telling Allie was obviously out of the question. A shrill inapposite tune played in the hall; it was Allie's buzzing tri-band phone. Zach smiled, satisfied; it was 'the call' for Allie to leave – Zach did his best work alone.

"This is NOT fair," Allie said, "I do all the dirty work and you get all the fun - so not fair."

Zach gave her an apologetic glance, "C'mon Allie, orders are orders – I don't want the task at hand to get screwed."

Allie rolled her eyes, "Like that would ever happen." she spun round on her stilettos and sashayed towards the exit not waiting for a reply. The act easily attracted the attention of a hundred males. She turned slightly and winked at them, but it was directed at Zach; it made him feel queasy, he knew he should fall head over heels in love with her, but he only fumed silently wishing she'd didn't direct such attention of glaring men towards him. Turning back to the retarded lady on stage screaming her heart out, he tried to wait patiently for an hour or so.

It was midnight by the time Zach reached the back of the theatre; he stood outside a massive warehouse overlooking a large black lake, reflecting the clear sky and the blinking clusters of stars. Zach wasted a moment or two to stare at the cloudless sky; he liked the view and wished he could pass his time right there, but his mission didn't call for enjoying beautiful scenes. Pushing past the waist high autumn yellow grass, he filled his lungs with the fresh humid air and scrambled along a ladder to the high sloping roof of the warehouse. He crawled slowly and silently towards a small hole he'd made a week ago, he felt sure no one would notice it unless it rained, but chances of rain at this time of the year were dim. Through this particular hole, Zach had an entire view of the inside; there seemed to be about twenty people, hustling about the place. He sighed; his work was starting to stress him now. But oddly after a few minutes most of them started shuffling out, all lights were switched off, except for one, for a particular individual. It was a blond girl about his age, sixteen, crumpled in a corner with a bloody bundle in her arms; it was a baby wrapped in a once white cloth. Both the baby and girl were whimpering, Zach could hear her soft cries echoing through the empty storehouse. His first impulse was to help her right then, but the fall would undoubtedly be fatal – he kept his stance.

"I knew you'd show up. Who are you?!" It was a deep husky voice.

Zach swiftly spun around; the owner of the voice was a young man, he looked very much like the blond girl, Zach wondered whether his makeshift peep-hole was a give-away, as the man was well balanced on the steep sloping roof, Zach assumed he had been on this roof a number of times. He cursed his himself silently.

"I asked you who you are!" the young man looked apoplectic, "You're the Prichard dude aren't you, are you here to see the mess you've created- to torture Avil like that!" With that he lunged at Zach grabbing for the collar but missed by a hair, as Zach stumbled on the precarious platform. He was more tense over the fact that he wasn't standing on something that could be called safe: the thin tin half-rusted roof wouldn't obviously sustain an obese human, let alone a violent fight.

Zach eyed the man and steadied his voice, "Look, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, just stay back and I won't hurt you." Zach pulled out his handgun, trying to scare him away. It worked but only for a little while. The young man at last seemed to realize what he and Zach was standing on. He smiled faintly and plunged his thick arm into the rusted tin at Zach's feet, unperturbed by the large gnashes forming on his skin. Zach's station crumbled under his feet, he grabbed for the edge of the remaining roof and hung on to it with bleeding hands as if his life depended on it. Of course it did.

The blond girl stood watching the drama unfolding with wide blue eyes; she grew frantic and looked about the warehouse, spotting a giant trolley full of miniature packets of opium, she pushed it towards the corner below Zach. The tin didn't retain the weight load any more, quarter the roof came crashing down with Zach.

The young man kept a safe distance, breathing hard. The girl held on to her child tightly. And Zach, he seemed to have sunk in a trolley load of opium. The tiny packets burst under the force he fell with, leading him into a land of unconsciousness.

'Drugs – saving my life?' Zach thought already beginning to drift off 'You gotta be kidding me.'

The young man scrambled down the ladder and sprinted towards his sister, "Avil, we've got to leave this place – someone must have heard the commotion – we've got to leave – Now!" He eyed the bloody baby in Avil's arms, "Leave that damned baby here with your damned lover!"

"But Ray!" Avil was crying, "He's not Prichard."

Ray looked grim, "We don't have time to think this over, Avil. But like I said – leave that damned child here." With that he grabbed the baby and set it down right onto Zach's limp torso. Avil started whimpering silently but didn't protest. He grabbed his sister's arm and both fled through a back door.

Zach was having a hang-over situation, trying to maintain consciousness despite the opium surrounding him. He managed till he heard the baby on him cry at the top of its lungs, being left alone by its teenage mother. Then he drifted off hearing someone or maybe a number of people's voices entering the warehouse…

PRESENT DAY…

Staring mutely at Zach, Kepler allowed him a few moments to think. He was used to the customary shock most people experienced, especially in an interrogation room. The silence grew a minute or two longer and precariously got to the brink of Kepler's patience.

"Okay, kid, let's start this the easy way: What is your name and how old are you?"

Zach sighed, this information wasn't supposed to be given away just like that. It was time the conversation turned to his benefit. "What am I nailed for, Mister…" Zach squinted at the name tag on his lapel, "Mr. Kepler?"

"Smuggling drugs and in the possession of an illegal newborn." Kepler turned an icy glare at Zach, bluntly accusing him. "Kids nowadays," he muttered to himself, "having KIDS of their own!"

Zach was baffled by this statement, the accusation dawned on him, "The kid isn't mine. No way!" He frowned and looked defiant.

"Oh, don't give me that trash – what are you fifteen, sixteen?"

"Sixteen, sir."

The reply seemed to have angered Kepler more, he kept that withering glare.

"Why don't you just run some tests, you'll know that child's not mine."

"What do you think? We have. The DNA resembles." Kepler himself felt bitter by this fact almost as if he felt sorry for the newborn.

"I – how – what?"

"The DNA resembles." Kepler repeated.

A strange phenomenon struck Zach, this wasn't possible. "This is insane – I'm no reprobate."

"You look even worse." This wasn't true, Kepler didn't see any devilment in the kid's dark chocolate-like eyes, but being a cop, he couldn't fully trust him; evidence counted for more.

Zach was silent for a moment; he felt a plan wafting through his brain. It was important to put it into action, immediately. "Mr. Kepler, I guarantee I'll tell you the whole story, if you guarantee that the following conversation is heard by no one other than you."

Kepler studied his captive, "What do you take me for, a fool?"

"No, just to share a secret that's all." It was true he was willing to share the night's happenings to Kepler, alone.

Kepler cast a sidelong glance at an old timid looking man behind the glass pane; Zach supposed he was looking at the clinical practitioner. The observer nodded affirming the truth in Zach's words. Kepler still seemed unconvinced, his brows creased, he walked out of the room to the ancient man. Zach's restless mind was relieved; his scheme was working so far. He just wanted to make his pre-planned escape easier.

Kepler and the practitioner were talking in hushed tones in the next room. Being trained to lip read, Zach understood most of what was being said.

"Why would he want this, he knows I'll tell the whole tale to the staff, anyway." Kepler held a tired expression.

"I know, kids have their own way, some just feel easier when there isn't a crowd speculating them."

"But he's a delinquent."

"He looks like an easy one to me, Kepler." Another officer retorted.

Kepler gazed at Zach, who now pretended to look worried. "Hopefully an easy one."

Reviews are like chocolate fudge :D