STOLEN Chapter 3-3

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Part 3

         Satisfied with what he has in possession, Zakri closed the door to the safe room and heads back towards his office.
         "You can't leave the City."
         The sudden intrusion slammed at Zakri's face like a large concrete slab. He jumped and quickly hid the bag behind him. He looked up and saw the old man. "Who- what- how the hell did you get here?"
         The old man from before stood in front of the door. His white beard and coat was as Zakri had remembered it. He walked inside with his hands clasped behind him. Something about the old man felt different but Zakri had no time to figure out what it was.
         "It needs you." said the old man again walking closer towards Zakri. His approach forced Zakri to step back. Fear was in his face and he could not suppress them no matter how hard he tried.
         "Old man" he said. He gulped. "This City can live on its own. There are plenty of people here guarding it." he walked forward against the intense pressure coming from the old man.
         "You can't leave the City. It needs you. Rosli Hakim is the key, you must find him." said the old man. The name Rosli Hakim halted Zakri in his track. He clenched his hands and felt its subtle shivering.
         "No. I was almost killed and now someone traced my most secured source of information. I can't risk it. I'm sorry." he said. He removed his trench coat from the rack and disappears behind the door, ignoring the old man who was looking at him with crossed eyes and murmuring lips.
         The road was empty for a bright day and all the shops were closed. Zakri eyed the area. His guts was shouting of something weird and he could see it in front of him. The whole neighborhood was empty, of life and cars.