The Death and Resurrection Of Martin Luther

Trapped in the Backseat

Martin burst through the stairwell door into the parking garage, his chest heaving and his bad leg aching. His eyes scanned the rows of luxury vehicles until he spotted it.

Cole's black sedan. The engine running, windows tinted. He was too late. The car was already pulling out of its spot.

Martin watched helplessly as it rolled toward the exit road. Inside that car, Taylor was alone with his brother whom he didn't trust.

His phone buzzed.

"Too slow, you cripple. They're gone. But don't worry, you'll see her again eventually, if Cole lets her come back."

Martin wanted to scream. To chase the car. To do something. But he was just a cleaner. A nobody. A dead man who should remain dead for now, and whoever was behind these messages was playing with him.

He turned and slammed his fist into the concrete wall. Pain shot through his knuckles but he didn't care.

***

Cole's sedan glided through New York traffic smoothly. In the back seat, Taylor pressed herself against the door, trying to creat