12-Jan-2018
I had a request to put what the dice represent, and therefore what I’m supposed to include, at the end of the story instead of the beginning. So if you want to know, scroll to the bottom and then come back up.
The last thing I needed right now was to grow a conscience. I’d sloughed off all of my friends, offended my family members until they would no longer be associated with me, and if things went well tonight I would be on the Most Wanted list.
Then why was I hesitating?
I stood on the precipice of a brave new world. All I had to do was metaphorically reach out, wrap my fingers around the doorknob, turn and push.
That was all.
And yet I hesitated.
“Hey, boss,” Funny Guy, one of my goons, said. “The boys are ready to go.”
I glanced at the black fedora on the table. The fabric practically pulled light from the air, leaving cold and dark in its wake.
“You, uh, need anything?”
I shook my head and stood. The wooden chair scraped across the uneven floor of the warehouse, and the table wobbled slightly as I snatched first my pistol and then my hat off of it. I put both in their places, and turned toward Funny Guy.
My man stood half a head taller than me, and wore tan pants, a white shirt and a brown vest. I always wondered why he wore light colors when he knew we were going killing, but somehow he managed to keep the stains off of his clothes.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Funny Guy nodded and stepped aside so I could pass him.
It had taken quite a few robberies and even more bribery to get the cars. They sat idling in their black, shinny glory, chrome sparkling under the overhead lights. Someone had already opened the garage doors.
I got into the lead car. Funny Guy gave me an annoyed look—he thought that the Boss should let his lackeys take the fire—but I ignored him. Tonight I had something to prove. After tonight, everyone in the country would know my name.
I settled into the passenger seat and shut the door. The driver sent me a nervous, side-long glance before his eyes returned to the road ahead, and his gloved fingers tightened around the steering wheel with the creak of leather.
“Let’s go,” I said. My voice remained stoic, but the index finger of my right hand began to tap on my leg. I clenched that hand into a fist as the car rocketed out of the warehouse and into the night.
The dark welcomed us. The few street lights stood at uneven intervals along the avenue, sending pools of yellow onto the otherwise deserted sidewalks. They were the only things that marked our passing.
“You know the route?” I asked.
“Of course,” the driver said.
The sound of my men checking their weapons came from the back seat. It put my mind and ease, and I smiled.
The driver followed the preplanned route. The number of street lights grew as we came closer to the center of the city. Even at the late hour, people scurried home from brothels or the bar or whatever entertainment they could find. Most wobbled a bit as they walked down the sidewalks. Others lurked in the alleyways, the tips of their hats catching in the headlights of the car.
Once I might have been afraid of them, but no longer. I’d taken my lumps, and had risen to the top. And now, I would build a platform and rise even higher.
“Almost there,” the driver said.
The men in the back cocked their weapons.
I, on the other hand, kept my hands free. I lay them on my knees, and took a breath.
This was it. Everything I’d been working for.
The last turn came, and the driver took it like a model citizen, even making a full stop before proceeding.
The street that lay before us shone almost as bright as it did in the daytime. Groups of people streamed from casino to casino. The late shows had just gotten out, and women strode next to men, hanging onto their arms and smiling. Some of them might even got lucky. If I wasn’t about to spoil their evening.
My caravan of cars pulled over, causing a mass of drunkards to move to the other side of the road. The doors opened simultaneously, and I stepped out of the car. As I rose, I put my hat on like a cowboy, but today the white church wasn’t behind me.
Funny Guy jumped up on the hood of the middle car. He raised his tommy gun and shot it into the air.
I was ready. I watched the crowd draw back, as if they were the sea. My other men spread out, getting between the people on the street and any hope of escape they might have. More gunshots sounded. Women screamed. The people bunched together, as if en mass they might have more protection.
It only took me a minute to find the woman. Long, lean with shoulder-length fiery red hair and a green feather in her headband.
I strode forward, lackeys on either side of me. They shoved anyone that got too close. I kept my eyes on the woman. After a moment, the crowd went silent, and she turned, sensing my coming.
She smiled, as if she knew something I didn’t. Unfortunately for her, I knew something she didn’t. I pulled my pistol and raised it.
More screams. The woman parted her perfectly glossed lips and laughed.
I pulled the trigger.
Pain and shock twisted the woman’s features. Blood pooled on the fabric of her light green dress.
Everyone screamed.
She pressed her fingers to the wound, then looked at me.
“How?” she asked.
I leaned in close. “I know what you are.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but stumbled back.
Sirens wailed.
My men grabbed my arms, and a moment later, we were gone. My infamy written in blood forever.
***
It’s so nice not having a commitment to take this plot anywhere!
Here were the categories. Did I get them all?
7-Drama
5-Villain
10-The past
7-Door Knob
8-Good vs. evil
Here’s a link to all of the categories.
