07-20-2017, 09:41 PM
“Come on Maxx,” Parker said, “let’s go.”
The elder brother stood in the doorway to their room while the younger brother sat on his bed, playing with a ramshackled set of toys.
“Why?” Maxx asked, not bothering to look up from his toys, “mom said she’d bring back Sam, you said we got nothin’ to worry about.”
Parker looked away and answered, “che, mom ain’t going, she’s sending Marques and his crew, and she only sends them if things are gonna get dicey, I don’t like that.”
“She wouldn’t let Sam get hurt, would she?”
“I,” Park started, but paused to gather his thoughts, “I’m just worried about Sam s’all.”
Maxx nodded and stopped playing with his toys. Tears crept into the corner of the young boy’s eyes. It looked as if he was going to collapse into a puddle of sad at any moment.
“Che, don’t cry,” Parker said, “that’s what i’m getting at though, we can’t just sit here while sis is in trouble, so let’s get ‘fore shit gets dicey.”
--
Mallory sat on the nightstand and kept one eye on his phone and the other on the parking lot. He texted his Camelot love and hummed a soft melody. Sam sat, half asleep, in the corner of the room next to a half-empty pizza box. A ziptie kept her bound to the radiator. Around 7:30 a blacked-out Escalade pulled into the parking lot. Mal pocketed his phone and turned his full attention to the suspicious vehicle. Four men got out, each of them visibly packing heat. One carried a briefcase, while the other three held a set of modified short-barreled shotguns.
“Fuck,” Mal said, “they’re here a bit early.”
Mallory met them just outside the door to room 106. The men stopped a few feet from him and for a moment the five shared an awkward silence.
The one carrying the briefcase, and who Mal assumed to be the ringleader, spoke first, “where’s the girl?”
“Where’s Ameara?” Mallory countered.
The man held the briefcase level with one hand and unclasped the latches with the other. He opened the case and revealed a laptop strapped into the case sitting atop a bed of money. He flicked the power on and opened a video call application. After a few seconds the Queen of Rust appeared on the screen. Her pale eyes fell upon Mallory.
“So you’re the one causing all of this trouble?” She asked.
“You were supposed to come in person.”
She rolled her eyes and responded, “why would I do a silly thing like that? Where’s your friend? The bluebird said there was two of you.”
Mallory shrugged, “he went out for smokes, we weren’t expecting you to show up quite so early.”
The bounty hunter kept an idle hand on the pistol in his hip holster. Cotton filled his mouth and he tried to swallow it down. Ameara’s cheek rested on her fist and she looked as if she was going to fall asleep. Mallory took a deep breath to still his rapid fire heart. It didn’t work.
“So where is my girl?” Ameara asked.
Mallory nodded to the room behind him, “don’t worry, she’s safe, just figure it was prudent to keep her inside while the grownups talked.”
“Very well Mr.” she began, leaving the sentence open-ended.
“Mallory, just call me Mallory.”
“Very well Mallory,” she said, shifting about in her throne, “I see no need for bloodshed tonight, we’re both adults, what are your terms?”
“We trade the girl for the credits your kids stole from us,” Mallory said, “that seems like a pretty even trade to me.”
Nearby, unbeknownst to the negotiators, Parker and Maxx moved around the edge of the building. The entire structure was shaped like a horseshoe with the parking lot inside. They climbed to the second floor and stopped in front of room 206, directly above the negotiations. They kept low and peered over the edge, just enough to see and hear the proceedings.
After considering this offer for a moment Ameara replied, “no.”
Mallory’s gut tightened and he spoke, “no? What do you mean no? We’ve got your kid.”
“You have an asset of mine, an asset which has a tangible value,” she answered, “that value is far less than 20,000 credits.”
“So what then? You’re just going to let us turn her in?” Mal asked.
Ameara laughed and shook her head, “now, now, even I’m not that cruel, there is 2000 dollars in this case, I think that’s more than a fair offer for the girl.”
Mallory shifted his gaze from one thug to the next. Each of them were strapped, he even spotted the stock of a submachine gun poking out from beneath the briefcase holder’s jacket. He eyed the stacks of cash sitting below the laptop. Mental arithmetic counted at least a grand on the surface layer, she wasn’t bluffing about the cash. Two large was still a decent payday, and it sure as hell beat the gauntlet they’d have to go through to get their money back. He pulled his hand away from his pistol. Charles would be pissed, but that was nothing new.
“Smart boy,” Ameara noted.
Someone shot first, and it wasn’t Mallory. The rapport of a heavy caliber round echoed across the parking lot. It took a few moments for Mallory to truly grasp the situation and in that time several more shots rang out. The ringleader collapsed, throwing the briefcase and laptop against the ground. One of the other thugs fell shortly after while the other two scrambled to defend themselves. Mallory crouched down behind a cement partition, the kind used as an artificial flower bed, and scanned the area. His eyes snapped to a muzzle flash from deep in the parking lot. Charles had come up behind them and was using their Escalade as cover.
“Goddamnit,” Mal muttered, and drew his pistol.
The two remaining thugs had begun to return fire, peppering the SUV with buckshot and slugs. Charles ducked down behind the vehicle and took the free moment to reload. Mallory peeked out from his hiding spot and took a few shots at the closest target. The man buckled over as Mal lit up his back. Mal fired a few more shots to finish the job. The final gangster, noticing that he was outgunned at this point, fired one last shot before dipping out. Charlie took aim and emptied half his clip at the fleeing assailant. The man vaulted a nearby fence line and disappeared into the darkness. After a few seconds spent assessing the situation the two bounty hunters left their respective cover.
“What the fuck Charlie,” Mallory shouted, “just where in the hell did you go!? And why the fuck did you come back taking shots like some God-damned cowboy?”
In the time it took for Charlie to cross the stretch of parking lot he had already holstered his pistol and lit up a cigar. He took one puff and held up a finger for Mallory to be quite. The cigar-smoker crouched in front of Ameara’s laptop. He scooped the computer up and turned it around to face him. The screen was cracked, but Ameara’s pale face still registered through the spiderweb cracks.
“No deal you heartless bitch,” Charles said, his voice adopting a strangely spirited tone.
For the first time in perhaps a very long time the Queen of Rust seemed genuinely surprised.
“Charles,” she said, “I thought you were still in prison.”
Charlie scowled, “well you thought wrong you sleazy cunt.”
“Now now Charles, no need for such scathing language,” she said, “you’ve got my attention.”
“I want my money.”
She reached into her bra and produced the credit chip, “you mean this thing?”
Charlie didn’t answer.
“Boo, you’re no fun Charles, and to think I considered you a lover once,” she continued.
Mallory raised an eyebrow and interrupted, “wait, you fucked her? You never told me that.”
“Shut up Mal for five fucking minutes,” Charles snapped at his partner, “now listen here, you, you snake, I’m coming for my money and you can either play along or end up like your lackeys here, capische?”
Without waiting for an answer Charlie slammed the laptop shut and threw it across the parking lot. Mallory pretended to be counting five minutes on his non-existent wristwatch and only stopped when his partner shot him a withering glare.
“Okay for real though,” Mallory said, “just what the hell are we going to do now chief?”
“I,” Charlie looked away, “I didn’t think that far.”
“And why in the hell did it take you an hour to go get smokes?”
Charles offered a noncommittal shrug and rubbed the back of his neck. Mallory caught wind of a fragrance. It was faint, but he could detect the scent of strawberry-flavored perfume even over the scent of blood. His eyes narrowed. A purplish bruise peeked out just below his friend’s shirt, the kind of bruise that one could only get from a pair of over-eager lips. The gears locked into place and Mallory facepalmed.
“You went to a fuckin’ whorehouse didn’t you?” He asked.
“Sorry, didn’t think it’d take so long,” Charlie chuckled, “I guess that’s a curse a stud like me has to live with.”
Mallory threw up his hands and shouted, “I could have fucking died!”
“Yo, fuckos!” A familiar voice shouted at them.
Above them Parker and his brother stood leaning on the balcony’s railing. Charles reached for his pistol, but the older brother held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Che, we ain’t got no beef with you two,” Parker said, “at least not anymore, from the sounda things our mom ain’t cut out to be a parental figure no more.”
“She ain’t cut out to be anything ‘cept a corpse,” Charles barked back.
“Right, well that’s what I’m getting at,” Parker continued, “I know a way to get you guys in right under her nose, s’all you two have to do is free my sis and give us that two-grand homeboy’s bleeding all over, hell I won’t even make you clean the blood off.”
Mallory and Charles shared a look before glancing back to the stack of bloody money. Charles shrugged and rolled the corpse over with his foot and set to work collecting the cash. Mallory sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“Looks like you got a deal,” he conceded.
The elder brother stood in the doorway to their room while the younger brother sat on his bed, playing with a ramshackled set of toys.
“Why?” Maxx asked, not bothering to look up from his toys, “mom said she’d bring back Sam, you said we got nothin’ to worry about.”
Parker looked away and answered, “che, mom ain’t going, she’s sending Marques and his crew, and she only sends them if things are gonna get dicey, I don’t like that.”
“She wouldn’t let Sam get hurt, would she?”
“I,” Park started, but paused to gather his thoughts, “I’m just worried about Sam s’all.”
Maxx nodded and stopped playing with his toys. Tears crept into the corner of the young boy’s eyes. It looked as if he was going to collapse into a puddle of sad at any moment.
“Che, don’t cry,” Parker said, “that’s what i’m getting at though, we can’t just sit here while sis is in trouble, so let’s get ‘fore shit gets dicey.”
--
Mallory sat on the nightstand and kept one eye on his phone and the other on the parking lot. He texted his Camelot love and hummed a soft melody. Sam sat, half asleep, in the corner of the room next to a half-empty pizza box. A ziptie kept her bound to the radiator. Around 7:30 a blacked-out Escalade pulled into the parking lot. Mal pocketed his phone and turned his full attention to the suspicious vehicle. Four men got out, each of them visibly packing heat. One carried a briefcase, while the other three held a set of modified short-barreled shotguns.
“Fuck,” Mal said, “they’re here a bit early.”
Mallory met them just outside the door to room 106. The men stopped a few feet from him and for a moment the five shared an awkward silence.
The one carrying the briefcase, and who Mal assumed to be the ringleader, spoke first, “where’s the girl?”
“Where’s Ameara?” Mallory countered.
The man held the briefcase level with one hand and unclasped the latches with the other. He opened the case and revealed a laptop strapped into the case sitting atop a bed of money. He flicked the power on and opened a video call application. After a few seconds the Queen of Rust appeared on the screen. Her pale eyes fell upon Mallory.
“So you’re the one causing all of this trouble?” She asked.
“You were supposed to come in person.”
She rolled her eyes and responded, “why would I do a silly thing like that? Where’s your friend? The bluebird said there was two of you.”
Mallory shrugged, “he went out for smokes, we weren’t expecting you to show up quite so early.”
The bounty hunter kept an idle hand on the pistol in his hip holster. Cotton filled his mouth and he tried to swallow it down. Ameara’s cheek rested on her fist and she looked as if she was going to fall asleep. Mallory took a deep breath to still his rapid fire heart. It didn’t work.
“So where is my girl?” Ameara asked.
Mallory nodded to the room behind him, “don’t worry, she’s safe, just figure it was prudent to keep her inside while the grownups talked.”
“Very well Mr.” she began, leaving the sentence open-ended.
“Mallory, just call me Mallory.”
“Very well Mallory,” she said, shifting about in her throne, “I see no need for bloodshed tonight, we’re both adults, what are your terms?”
“We trade the girl for the credits your kids stole from us,” Mallory said, “that seems like a pretty even trade to me.”
Nearby, unbeknownst to the negotiators, Parker and Maxx moved around the edge of the building. The entire structure was shaped like a horseshoe with the parking lot inside. They climbed to the second floor and stopped in front of room 206, directly above the negotiations. They kept low and peered over the edge, just enough to see and hear the proceedings.
After considering this offer for a moment Ameara replied, “no.”
Mallory’s gut tightened and he spoke, “no? What do you mean no? We’ve got your kid.”
“You have an asset of mine, an asset which has a tangible value,” she answered, “that value is far less than 20,000 credits.”
“So what then? You’re just going to let us turn her in?” Mal asked.
Ameara laughed and shook her head, “now, now, even I’m not that cruel, there is 2000 dollars in this case, I think that’s more than a fair offer for the girl.”
Mallory shifted his gaze from one thug to the next. Each of them were strapped, he even spotted the stock of a submachine gun poking out from beneath the briefcase holder’s jacket. He eyed the stacks of cash sitting below the laptop. Mental arithmetic counted at least a grand on the surface layer, she wasn’t bluffing about the cash. Two large was still a decent payday, and it sure as hell beat the gauntlet they’d have to go through to get their money back. He pulled his hand away from his pistol. Charles would be pissed, but that was nothing new.
“Smart boy,” Ameara noted.
Someone shot first, and it wasn’t Mallory. The rapport of a heavy caliber round echoed across the parking lot. It took a few moments for Mallory to truly grasp the situation and in that time several more shots rang out. The ringleader collapsed, throwing the briefcase and laptop against the ground. One of the other thugs fell shortly after while the other two scrambled to defend themselves. Mallory crouched down behind a cement partition, the kind used as an artificial flower bed, and scanned the area. His eyes snapped to a muzzle flash from deep in the parking lot. Charles had come up behind them and was using their Escalade as cover.
“Goddamnit,” Mal muttered, and drew his pistol.
The two remaining thugs had begun to return fire, peppering the SUV with buckshot and slugs. Charles ducked down behind the vehicle and took the free moment to reload. Mallory peeked out from his hiding spot and took a few shots at the closest target. The man buckled over as Mal lit up his back. Mal fired a few more shots to finish the job. The final gangster, noticing that he was outgunned at this point, fired one last shot before dipping out. Charlie took aim and emptied half his clip at the fleeing assailant. The man vaulted a nearby fence line and disappeared into the darkness. After a few seconds spent assessing the situation the two bounty hunters left their respective cover.
“What the fuck Charlie,” Mallory shouted, “just where in the hell did you go!? And why the fuck did you come back taking shots like some God-damned cowboy?”
In the time it took for Charlie to cross the stretch of parking lot he had already holstered his pistol and lit up a cigar. He took one puff and held up a finger for Mallory to be quite. The cigar-smoker crouched in front of Ameara’s laptop. He scooped the computer up and turned it around to face him. The screen was cracked, but Ameara’s pale face still registered through the spiderweb cracks.
“No deal you heartless bitch,” Charles said, his voice adopting a strangely spirited tone.
For the first time in perhaps a very long time the Queen of Rust seemed genuinely surprised.
“Charles,” she said, “I thought you were still in prison.”
Charlie scowled, “well you thought wrong you sleazy cunt.”
“Now now Charles, no need for such scathing language,” she said, “you’ve got my attention.”
“I want my money.”
She reached into her bra and produced the credit chip, “you mean this thing?”
Charlie didn’t answer.
“Boo, you’re no fun Charles, and to think I considered you a lover once,” she continued.
Mallory raised an eyebrow and interrupted, “wait, you fucked her? You never told me that.”
“Shut up Mal for five fucking minutes,” Charles snapped at his partner, “now listen here, you, you snake, I’m coming for my money and you can either play along or end up like your lackeys here, capische?”
Without waiting for an answer Charlie slammed the laptop shut and threw it across the parking lot. Mallory pretended to be counting five minutes on his non-existent wristwatch and only stopped when his partner shot him a withering glare.
“Okay for real though,” Mallory said, “just what the hell are we going to do now chief?”
“I,” Charlie looked away, “I didn’t think that far.”
“And why in the hell did it take you an hour to go get smokes?”
Charles offered a noncommittal shrug and rubbed the back of his neck. Mallory caught wind of a fragrance. It was faint, but he could detect the scent of strawberry-flavored perfume even over the scent of blood. His eyes narrowed. A purplish bruise peeked out just below his friend’s shirt, the kind of bruise that one could only get from a pair of over-eager lips. The gears locked into place and Mallory facepalmed.
“You went to a fuckin’ whorehouse didn’t you?” He asked.
“Sorry, didn’t think it’d take so long,” Charlie chuckled, “I guess that’s a curse a stud like me has to live with.”
Mallory threw up his hands and shouted, “I could have fucking died!”
“Yo, fuckos!” A familiar voice shouted at them.
Above them Parker and his brother stood leaning on the balcony’s railing. Charles reached for his pistol, but the older brother held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Che, we ain’t got no beef with you two,” Parker said, “at least not anymore, from the sounda things our mom ain’t cut out to be a parental figure no more.”
“She ain’t cut out to be anything ‘cept a corpse,” Charles barked back.
“Right, well that’s what I’m getting at,” Parker continued, “I know a way to get you guys in right under her nose, s’all you two have to do is free my sis and give us that two-grand homeboy’s bleeding all over, hell I won’t even make you clean the blood off.”
Mallory and Charles shared a look before glancing back to the stack of bloody money. Charles shrugged and rolled the corpse over with his foot and set to work collecting the cash. Mallory sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“Looks like you got a deal,” he conceded.
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