Michael

Doyle wakes me. “Now you really have to go, sir.” The cop is gone and I figure Doyle can’t help himself. It’s fifteen minutes past six.

“Yes.” I rustle the newspaper in half and put it on the coffee table, then limp out into the chill air. The nightfall approaches.

I sit back into my car. Jared’s still in his place and even from afar I distinguish his fat face, pissed to the point his cheeks burn red. He has a tendency to blush whenever something goes awry. Other gangers and I would always discretely make fun of it.

I pull the medkit from under the seat and bandage my leg and waist. The leg wound hurts, but it has healed a good deal so it shouldn’t cause too many problems. The stab wound is worse, it feels like it’ll tear open if I get into another session of action, which I will.

Instinctively, I flit my eyes to the rearview mirror. Not to Jared, but to the passenger’s seat. Yet it’s empty. I tell myself it’s good it is.

I check my gun and find six bullets in the magazine. I’m not gonna get far with six bullets, but I might not need them.

I start the truck and pull out on the road. Jared revs his engine, tires screeching eagerly as the vehicle launches after me.

As I drive the road I picked on the map the town behind me fades. Forests overtake the hills and I can’t help but to observe the sunset, last glimpses of warmth disappearing behind the mountainy hills, leaving strips of pink clouds line the horizon. I’ve looked at plenty of sunsets, yet I never saw them, and the fact that this might be my last one makes it all the more special.

Night falls within half an hour and everything descends into darkness. The road is lonely, but I watch the signs and catch the one I need— a sign with a national park and a lake I researched and picked. I take the turn.

A few camping grounds slide by, but I head deeper into the forest, leaving a dust trail in my wake.

I’m not sure my idea is the best one, but it should allow me to break away from my pursuit and limit their search area to the shores of the lake, since there’s no way I’ll lose them if I ditch the car and try to run.

The road curls around the lake, it’s shores separated by a thick strip of forest. When my headlights hit a small clearing, giving way down into the water, I turn the vehicle sharply.

“Well, God,” I sigh, unrolling my window. “If you’re up there. I ugh… ’d like to live and not to drown or get knocked out, or freeze or… uh, get captured, actually no, protect Freckles and her family, and whatever else needs to be protected. Amen.”

Engines roar behind me, the air pierced by gunshots and yells as the vehicles race after me. “There’s a lake, dumbass!” A victorious call echoes, a haul of action deprived thugs.

I floor the pedal. The truck revs forward and off a steep ridge.

A second of weightlessness and then a hit knocks the air out of me when the truck crashes through the thin ice. The airbag deploys, saving my head, and freezing water hits my feet. “Fuck!” I yelp and concentrate on breathing as the car submerges. I pull out my knife and jab the airbag, letting out the air.

“You fucking fuck!” I hear Jared before the truck gets pulled underwater. A few bullets hit the rear and I take a deep breath as water fills up the cab. Blackness envelops me but for the headlights, shining down to the bottom of the lake. Far, far down.

It’s so cold a gasp escapes me together with some precious air. I clamp my hand on my mouth, my body shackled by the paralyzing temperature. When the truck angles, sinking head down, I cut my belt and fumble around the window until I swim out. I force myself to move further away from the shore, swimming underwater. My body protests, each push stiffer and slower, but I last for what must be close to thirty seconds before I hit a layer of thin ice, break it, and poke my head for a short and shivering breath. I submerge again, swimming further away from the clearing and the shore. When I come up headlights of the pursuit cars are lost behind a layer of trees and Jared’s yells echo all over the lake.

“Find him! You fuckers!” His voice cuts the calm of the night. “Get the flashlights!” A pause. “What do you mean we only have one! Do you know what’s gonna happen if he and that bitch live? Check the shores! Now!”

With the hilt of my knife I shatter the ice, creating a pathway to the shore until the ice is too thick to break, then I roll on it and into a gathering of dry scrubs. My heart hammers against my ribs and I heave, puffs of chilled air leaving my mouth. I lower my head into the frozen ground. Just a minute of rest…

The crunch of feet appears out of nowhere and I realize I blacked out. I clutch my frozen fingers around the handle of the knife. My eyes adjust to the darkness, trees taking form in the cloud-hidden moonlight. A silhouette steps along the shore, nearing me. I pull my legs to myself and tuck my head low, shifting to the nearest tree. As the man passes he probably mistakes me for a boulder.

I stand swiftly. With a few steps toward him I wrap my arm around his head from behind and stab his neck twice. He shoots, bullet flying off somewhere into the night, and before I know it the second thug grabs me around the waist. He pushes me back and we fall onto the ice. Pain sears through my abdomen as my stab wound opens, but before I can do anything the thug grabs my neck with one hand, squeezing, and a crunch of ice reverberates through my back.

It cracks.

Water consumes us both. He manages to surface, but pushes me deeper, his fingers locked around my neck. I clamp my jaw shut and wrap my legs around his waist, jabbing him into the side with my knife, again, and again. As we struggle he tries to maneuver his gun to shoot me but fails to hold me with one hand. The weapon slips, diving down right past my head. I grasp his jacket and pull him underwater. He straightens, spitting water and letting go of my neck. I surface. Cold air hits my hand with the knife, light and free of water resistance.

I swing out and stab him into the ear.

The man slackens, his limbs floating akimbo in the water.

I cough, my legs bending, and haul myself out into the shore.

Keep going. I have to keep going.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I stumble into the forest, away from the incoming shouts and the only flashlight that filters through the shoreline. Spruce branches brush against my face as I wade through the vegetation until I find a little groove behind a tree. I fall into a crouch, my knife in hand.

“I know you’re here, Mike!” A call carries over.

“Shit, man,” says another thug, his voice recognizable and I think it’s our medic, Carl. “Maybe we shouldn’t listen to Jared. I mean, Mike’s always been a murderer. The best of us. Look at these two fuckers. What’s left of them? I don’t want to die.”

Damn right, Carl. I may not be trained but I can kill. And I do it well.

I scoff. Yeah, lots to be proud of.

“And have him expose us,” the first thug spits. “You’d rather risk it or spend your life in prison, raping dudes instead of chicks.”

“I’d rather run,” Carl says.

“Keep searching.”

I won’t be able to fight both of them, so I sneak further away, and start tiptoeing back to the cars in a huge circle. As I trek I leave the forest and almost reach the road, but circle back until I sneak up behind some evergreens, right behind the cars.

Only one man patrols them. He seems to panic as he twists and turns around, his gun in his hands.

Hunched, I leave my cover and slip closer behind one of the vehicles. When the man twists away I leap out and ram him into the car before he shoots. I jab him in the neck.

A shot rattles in my ears, as loud as an explosion in the clearing. I gasp, with a corner of my eye registering blood burst from my shoulder. Dropping the suffocating thug I dive behind the car. A strangled yell erupts out of me, even though the pain is distant.

Jared’s delighted cackle makes my wet hair on my arms spike up. I pull out my gun and bend down to see under the car. I shoot twice at his feet. I miss.

By the crunch of his feet, I notice another man rush toward me, appearing from the depth of the trees. Fuck. I shoot but he springs behind a tree. I follow his body, my gun extended, and shoot when he dives for the tree closer. My third bullet hits his face. I pivot to Jared—

His boot dives into my side. Crouching, I kick him in the knee. As Jared falls he pulls the trigger. I have only a second to realize that the bullet missed me before Jared lands on me with his full weight. I jab his side, trying to get through all his fat, but all Jared emits is an uninterested hiss as his hands snatch my wrists and pin them to the ground. I strain, trying to kick him off me.

“Shh, shh.” A twisted smile spreads across his face, sharpened by the headlights of the cars.

Every jerk of my struggles sends searing pain over my wounds. Jared rams his knee into my side and I call out, blackness dotting my vision. “You knew what you were in for, right, Mikey?” He says, keeping pressure on my stab wound.

Cold bleeds through me when I realize there’s no way I can get this fat pig off me. Not wounded like this. Now I know how Freckles must’ve felt whenever I manhandled her.

Fighting the pain I glance down at Jared’s side. He’s bleeding, but there’s no way he’ll bleed out before I do.

“Did you agree to meet your bitch somewhere?” Jared’s words turn heavier with pain as he holds his face close to mine. I can’t struggle, but I can’t speak either because I have to clamp my teeth shut so not to scream. I think Jared will remove his knee, but he doesn’t.

Instead he inspects the agony on my face. “Ah, Carl said my revenge isn’t gonna be sweet, but I disagree. It’s very sweet.”

He holds his knee on my wound for a while, torturing me. I itch to scream into his face, but stay placid, my face a paragon of emptiness but for a few winces and labored breathing. The proven tactic of blankness works as Jared grows bored and removes his leg from my wound. I keep glaring at him, infuriating him until he explodes. “I fed you! I took you in, you sucker! And this is how you repay me!”

“Oh, calm down, you’re red,” I murmur, almost retching from the smell of his breath, and our blood, and sweat.

The look on his face is priceless, like a child’s with a stolen candy.

He grabs my neck, freeing my shot hand. I plant my palm into his face and poke my thumb into his eye, pressing as hard as I can.

With a groan he recoils enough to take the pressure off my wrist with a knife. Sitting up, I stab him into the shoulder. Jared calls out, cursing, grasping around with his fat arms, but I’m faster as I snatch his gun and get up first. I kick him on his back and kneel, ramming my knee into his chest. That’s all it took to take him down, a little bit of rage inducing behavior. Pathetic. “Pull the contract.”

“You sure?” Jared laughs in a shrill voice. “Sure you need it?” His eyes slide over my bleeding body.

I jab him into the gut, then both of his legs. He shrieks. I find his phone in his pocket and shove it into his bloody hands. Jared just fumbles with it. Apparently, his fat is the only strength he has. “Pull the contract.”

“Well, let’s see who bleeds out first.”

Anger boils through my veins and I grab his collar. “I’m gonna live,” I hiss into his face as I drive my knife into his belly, cutting down. A howl erupts out of Jared’s throat and I feel sick. “Pull the contract!”

Panting, Jared observes me and, for the first time, I see fear in his eyes. “If I do. Do I live?”

“If you manage,” I hiss, shoving the phone into his hand.

Jared heaves. “Jesus, Mike, what have we come to? We all but grew up together.”

It’s true. “You duped me.”

He dials. “Jared here,” he lists some authentication codes. “Pull the contract on Michael Sherman.”

He turns the phone screen to me and I hear the speaker say. “Done. Contract pulled.”

Jared ends the call and pants out. “Yeah, start over? I won’t touch your girl. Come on, man.”

I aim at his head.

A cloud of pink mist explodes as the bullet flies out the back of his head.

I stand, trip to my fours but stand again. The ground in front of me tilts, blackness fusing with light. My shoulder is totaled. My stab wound is bleeding down to my pants, maybe even into my gut.

“Mike?”

I pivot sharply, firing the remaining bullets I have, then look around, not sure where the noise came from. I can’t die. I don’t want to die. I made Freckles a promise.

The only option I have is running. So I turn and I run. Jared’s dead, whoever remains is alone. But it’s a risk. A risk Freckles or I might have to pay for in the future.

I stop, turning my shoulder to whoever I was running away from. I have to finish the job. I have to do it now because there won’t be more chances. A figure takes form in the car lights, approaching me. It’s Carl, flashlight in his hands.

He holds a gun and I shuffle from foot to foot. “Life for a life,” he says. “I don’t wanna kill you, man.”

“Have you ever killed?” I ask.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m a medic.” Carl’s always been domestic, always sitting quiet, smoking marijuana, not even whoring much, but after Jared betrayed me, I’m not sure I can leave him alive.

“I let you go, you let me go.”

I nod, trying to think of how to fool him. “You go back to the U.S.”

“Nah, man, fuck the U.S. I’m going to Mexico.” He’s a Mexican himself.

“Good. I—” I falter, a furious cough overtaking my words. Heaviness swoops over me and the next thing I know I’m lying on the ground. Carl’s kneeling next to me. I shuffle, propping on my elbows, and inch backward.

Carl shines a flashlight into my face, blinding me. “Calm down. You’re gonna owe me now.”

“What?” Is all I manage before my head spins again.

“Come on, stand up.” Carl grabs my good arm and helps me to my feet. On the way I grab my knife I dropped. He guides me to one of the cars and pushes me into the back seat. I clench my only weapon in front of me, lying on my back. He is helping me but there might be other motives involved. Before I think of what to do Carl comes back, a med kit in his arms. “So what is it about that girl?” He turns on the overhead light.

It scares me and I rotate the blade so it’s facing him. He grabs it. “I don’t mean it like that, man.” He lifts my shirt. “I have a wife, you know, and a kid too.”

“You gonna go back to them?” I whisper.

“Visit them.” He unwraps a red bandage from my waist. “What is that? A stab wound?”

“Yeah.”

He murmurs a few bewildered words in Spanish and I watch him, my muscles shivering from inside out. “You owe me my life, Mike. And I gladly accept your debt for my help here, okay?”

Maybe, I should let him go…

When I open my eyes Carl’s gone and I’m lying in the same spot. Grunting, I sit. Bandages constrict my waist and it looks like Carl ran out of them and tore up his shirt to finish up with my shoulder. The next thing I notice is snaking red and smoke in two parts of the forest, then the smell of burning flesh.

Carl decided to dispose of the evidence for me.

I lean over to look at the front seat. It has car keys and my knife on it.

Carl gave me just a little more time, but I don’t waste it as I pull back on the road. Not after Carl.

I end up finding the road where Freckles jumped the train. And then I follow the tracks.