At 3 AM Owner Asked Me Move Car, Danmaku Warned Don't

Three in the morning. A frantic knock at the door jolted me awake.

Victor, can you move a car for me? My husband parked too far back and it's blocking the trunk. My son's asthma medicine is inside.

It was Gertrude Summers, the owner of Unit 3008.

I rubbed my eyes and took the keys. A line of black text jumped across my vision.

Don't touch it. If you do, you'll die.

There's no asthma medicine. There are body parts in that trunk.

She waited for the hour when only you're on shift. She's planning to send you to your death.

I was wide awake in an instant, and it hit me that her mother-in-law had picked up her son that afternoon.

While I hesitated, she pressed me. "Victor, can you hurry? My son's having an attack, he needs the medicine now."

The keys hit the floor with a clang.

Without thinking, I opened the voice recorder on my phone.

1.

"Victor, what are you standing there for? My son's asthma is acting up, we can't waste time."

Gertrude's face was pale, her forehead slick with cold sweat.

Her urging left me dazed.

Gertrude lived in Unit 3008. Her husband was away most of the year.

Whenever something went wrong with her water or power, she'd come find me for help.

Her son was six this year, with severe asthma. Every change of season brought on an attack.

Under normal circumstances, with a life on the line, I shouldn't have hesitated.

But that line of text that had popped up out of nowhere sent a jolt through me.

I distinctly remembered her mother-in-law taking her son out that evening.

And as far as I knew, they hadn't come back.

"Victor, I'm begging you, just move the car for me, I only need to grab the medicine."

She scooped up the keys and shoved them back into my hand, hauling me toward the garage with real force.

Do not go down there. The garage is empty, and the second you step into camera range you become the suspect.

Once you touch the car, your prints are all over it, and there's no way you can talk your way out.

Taking the fall and doing time would be the good outcome. What she wants is for you and the car to go into the river together. Your whole family will be destroyed.

The doubt kept churning in me.

On one side, an owner I dealt with all the time. On the other, floating text that had come from nowhere.

Who was I supposed to believe?

Gertrude's grip was unnaturally strong. She dragged me toward the garage without once looking back.

I wrenched free of her. "Ms. Summers, don't panic yet."

"Don't panic? My son has asthma. A few minutes late and it could kill him."

Her eyes were rimmed red, and her voice cracked as she screamed at me.

I froze for a second, and her tone eased.

"Victor, I don't mean anything by it. Just a few minutes of your time and you'll save my son's life."

"The car's parked right at the garage entrance. You move it, I grab the medicine, it won't take you more than ten minutes."

Looking at how frantic she was, I said, "Ms. Summers, I understand you're in a rush, but your car's too big. I don't know how to drive it."

"You said your husband parked too far back. If I do it wrong and hit the wall, I could crush the trunk, and then there's no getting your son's medicine out at all."

"Here's what we'll do. Tell me what medicine your son needs and I'll go buy it right now."

She went still, and a flicker of impatience crossed her eyes.

"Victor, what pharmacy's open at this hour?"

"Besides, running there and back is bound to waste time. Moving the car is faster."

She held the keys out to me again. "Victor, it's only a few minutes. My son's waiting on it to save his life."

Seeing my hesitation, she pulled her owner status on me.

"Victor Fox, you're the security guard on duty tonight. Moving a car falls under your job. What gives you the right to refuse?"

I caught the edge in her voice and took two steps back.

Stay calm. She sees the soft approach isn't working, so now she's going hard.

"Victor Fox, if anything happens to my son because you dragged your feet, I will report you."

"And when you lose your job, don't come blaming me."

Don't be afraid. Even a complaint won't cost you your life.

Looking at that hostile face of hers, I was even more certain I couldn't go down to that garage.

I said evenly, "Ms. Summers, I'm truly sorry. Like I said, I'm willing to go buy the medicine. I can even drive your son to the hospital."

"Or here, I'll come upstairs with you right now, and we'll take him to the hospital together."

The moment she heard I wanted to go upstairs with her,

she panicked.

Her eyes darted back and forth. "The medicine in the car is imported. No hospital nearby carries it. My son only takes this one kind. Going to the hospital is useless."

She was pushing the explanation at me, and it rang false.

"Victor, it's simple. You open the door, pull the car forward a little, just enough for me to squeeze behind the trunk and open it and grab the medicine. That's all."

As if that would set my mind at ease about driving it.

She even swore it. "I promise, even if you scratch the car, I won't hold you responsible."

Looking into those pleading eyes, I hesitated again.

Don't go soft. She knows you like to help people. That's why she picked you.

"No, Ms. Summers. I really can't drive your car. If you don't trust the medicine from outside, I can call 911."

The second I pulled out my phone, she snatched it away.

"Are you deaf? My son takes imported medicine. The hospital doesn't have it. An ambulance won't help."

"Victor Fox, all I'm asking is for you to move my car. Fifteen minutes have already gone by. Keep stalling and something's really going to happen to my son."

I glanced at the phone. Already three-thirty.

At this hour every owner in the complex was fast asleep.

If it was really like that line of black text warned.

Once I got in, Gertrude would trigger the car's self-driving.

She'd set it to autopilot straight into the river across from the complex.

Nothing waiting for me but a dead end.

And there was a body in the trunk.

By then I'd be dead, with no evidence at all.

Everything, she could tell it however she liked.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Summers. I really can't move your car for you. If it's that urgent, I can call someone to come help."

She glared at me, hard. "In the middle of the night, who are you going to call? Victor Fox, you're the security guard on duty. It's your job to move my car for me."

"My husband pays a fortune in fees to keep people like you around, and you can't even move a car when I ask. Why all the excuses?"

Her voice had turned sharp with anger, her face darkening.

"Victor Fox, either you come move the car with me right now, or I file a complaint and have you packing your bags out of here by morning."

Don't be scared. She can't actually do that. And she's more afraid of sunrise than you are.

When I said nothing, she switched tactics.

"Victor, how about this. You come with me, you talk me through it, and I'll move the car myself."

"I mean it, my son's having an attack. He needs saving right now."

When I didn't argue, she grabbed me and hauled me toward the garage.

She was strong. She yanked the buttons right off my uniform.

Even with me pulling back as hard as I could, she dragged me all the way to the garage.

Right at the entrance, I saw her car.

The newest city crossover, its rear nearly flush against the back wall.

"Victor, here's the key. Once the doors are open, get in with me."

"You just sit in the passenger seat and talk me through it."

While I was still hesitating, her phone buzzed.

She pulled up a video. Her son, Valentine Coleman, was struggling to breathe.

"Mommy, save me, save me, I can't breathe."

She held the phone up in front of me. "Victor, look, his little face is all flushed. There's not a second to waste."

Looking at that face twisted in pain, I reached out my hand.

But the instant before I touched the key, I snatched my hand back.

Something was off. This afternoon, before Valentine went out, I'd said hello to him.

His grandmother had just given him a haircut.

But the boy in that video had hair longer than what I'd seen with my own eyes that afternoon.

And another thing. The light in Gertrude's bedroom had broken last month.

I was the one who went up to fix it for her.

After I finished, the bedroom light was bright white, not the warm yellow glowing on the screen now.

I stepped back twice, opening up the distance between me and the car.

At the same time, I flipped on my phone camera.

"Victor Fox, what are you dawdling for? My son's about to suffocate. Can't you see that?"

"I already told you, the car's broken and it's not on you. All you have to do is get in with me. You don't have to touch a thing the whole way."

Nice words. She's only saying that because she can see you're not easy to fool.

Once you're in the car, she uses pepper spray to knock you out, then presses your hands to her body to leave marks.Then the car drives itself into the river, and she calls the police with her clothes torn up.

Watching the lines of text appear one after another, a cold dread seeped into my bones.

"No, Ms. Summers. I really think the boy needs to be seen at a hospital."

"He doesn't. I told you, he doesn't. What I need right now is that bottle of medicine in the trunk."

She was practically screaming, her eyes shot through with red.

"Victor Fox, are you really going to just stand there and let him die? It takes nothing from you, and you still won't do it. If you get my son killed, I'll never let this go."

She hurled the accusation at me, her shrill voice echoing through the garage.

Like a vengeful ghost come to claim my life.

"Ms. Summers, I'm truly sorry, but I don't know how to drive your car at all."

"It's not that I won't help you, I honestly can't. Here's what we'll do. I'll call the police right now, and once they get here, your son will definitely..."

I didn't get to finish. She only panicked harder.

"Victor Fox, why would you call the police? Do you have to blow this out of proportion?"

"The keys are right here. All you have to do is open the door, sit in with me, and pull the car forward a little. That's it."

Looking at her outstretched hand, I still didn't move an inch.

Right then, her phone rang.

She answered the video call and shoved the screen into my face.

On the screen, her son Valentine was curled up in a ball, his lips a bluish purple.

He said weakly: "Mom, I, I can't breathe, medicine, medicine, I need my medicine..."

His small body kept struggling, and the sight of it twisted something in me.

Don't fall for it. The moment you do, the ones who can't breathe will be you and your family.

Her son is fast asleep and perfectly fine right now. This video is fake.

I stared at the screen. Still the same warm-yellow bedroom.

Valentine's hair still the length it had been before the haircut.

Gertrude was crying: "Victor Fox, do you see this? My son is dying. He's begging for help."

She choked out the words at the screen: "Val, Mommy's useless. Mommy begged Uncle Victor to move the car and save you, but he won't help."

The next second, that weak little voice came through the phone again.

With a thud, Gertrude dropped to her knees in front of me.

"Uncle Victor, please, please save me. I can't, I can't breathe."

Hearing that only made me more certain the video was fake.

Every time Val passed me, coming or going, he'd call me Uncle Vic in that sweet little voice.

From the day he was born until now, he had never once called me Uncle Victor.

"Victor, please. For Val's sake, help me. Just move the car and I can get the medicine and he'll be okay."

She was on her knees, tears smearing her makeup.

"Victor, it's simple. You open the door, sit in the passenger seat, and let me drive."

I was still working out how to turn her down.

Then a splash of bright yellow appeared at the mouth of the underground parking garage.

I saw it, and so did Gertrude.

She reacted faster than I did.

Her voice climbed: "I'm begging you, Victor, just find it in your heart to save a child's life."

The yellow figure came toward us fast.

It was Faith Chavez, the cleaning lady for the complex.

"Gertrude, what's going on?"

Seeing Gertrude on her knees to me, her face streaked with tears, Faith's expression soured.

"Is he giving you trouble?"

Faith planted herself in front of Gertrude, cleaning tools still in hand.

"Faith, my son's asthma is acting up. His emergency inhaler is in the trunk, but I can't open the car."

Faith craned her neck toward the trunk.

"I begged Victor to move it, but he won't help."

She pulled up that fake video. "Faith, Val's suffocating. One dose and he'd be fine, but Victor won't lift a finger."

One glance was all it took for Faith's face to change.

"Victor, what's the matter with you? Just move it for her. That's a human life. How can you stand there and let a child die?"

As she spoke, she snatched the keys out of Gertrude's hand and pushed them into mine.

"You're the security guard here. Moving cars is your job," she ordered. "Stop stalling, or someone really will die."

I set the keys on the ground. "No. I won't drive her car. I'm afraid"

Gertrude cut in. "Faith, I promise, whatever happens to the car, I won't hold him responsible."

"Right now all I want is to save my son."

Her act was flawless, and the fake video backed it up.

Faith bought it fast.

Her face tight with displeasure, she ordered me, "It's nothing. I'll be your witness. Just get the medicine out for Gertrude and help her save the boy. If anything goes wrong, you won't be blamed."

Don't believe her. The second Gertrude rolls out of the car and it clears the complex, she'll testify too.

Then her lie and Faith's statement will pin it all on you, and you'll die wronged for it.

I shook my head, firm. "No. I won't take that risk."

Clang. Faith threw her tools hard to the ground.

"Victor, I never took you for someone this selfish. What's gotten into you today? A life's on the line and you're just going to stand there?"

"I'm telling you, the minute you refuse to move this car for Gertrude, I'm going straight to the security office to report you."

She jabbed a finger at my nose, cursing me, her face dark.

When I said nothing, her tone went soft. "Victor, honey, any longer and someone really is going to die."

"Gertrude's out of options here."

"It's the middle of the night, everyone in the complex is asleep, and an old woman like me can't drive. There's no one but you."

Gertrude jumped in. "Victor, I really can't find anyone else. I promise, no matter what happens, I won't hold you responsible. Just help me."

Watching the seconds tick away, I knew there was no putting them off.

So I pulled out my phone and lit up the screen.

"I already called 911 and an ambulance. Someone will be here in ten minutes."

In an instant, every drop of color drained from Gertrude's face.

And I knew my gamble had paid off.