cigarettes for dinner

The four men sat at a table, some beaten, some bloody, some better, and some worse. All are very aware they just escaped death's knock at the door. It was the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, maybe one or two in the morning with pitch-black skies. Their car was parked outside, and they were able to make their way into the small, abandoned, spider-web-infested house. This is where they were told to wait until sunrise. Every other street or road home would lead to being caught by the men who had just tried executing them, but here was safe.

Cigarette smoke floated into the air and slowly filled the room. The owner of the cigarette exposed the contents of the cigarette package to the table. Want one? He asked the table.

As the younger man to his left took one of the cigarettes, the smoker used the opportunity to speak more. That was a close one. He commented.

Across the table from him sat a man covered head to toe with tattoos. He had a grazed bullet wound on his left arm. It tore through the artwork on his skin, an American classic eagle that was now bandaged up. You’re all just lucky I was able to grab the money before we left. I know you idiots wouldn’t have been able to remember to grab it with everyone shooting at us. Bunch of rookies. That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.

You did a very good job. The smoker said before letting out what he had let into his lungs.

The other three men just looked at him. Their faces said what their mouths wouldn’t. Why the fuck is this guy talking right now? All three of them knew a secret. All three of them knew that our cigarette smoker was an undercover cop, and they didn’t want to hear anything from him. The gang loves cops. They love knowing that when there’s a cop in their rank, they can very easily feed the man above them false information on where they’ll be and what they’ll be doing and when they’re doing it. There is also something about sending a police officer to a drug deal that makes it just seem to go so much smoother. Our police officer was unaware of this information.

What? The officer said, still observing their blank faces.

Just shut up and give me a cigarette already. Said the man to his right. Ah the man to his right. Somehow was the only one who escaped without a single injury. None of them were fatally injured, but all had a bump or a bruise to show. not the unscathed man.

The police officer handed him a cigarette and proceeded to comment again. You look awfully good for someone who was just in a shootout.

And you look like shit all the time.

The boy and the tattooed man laughed. No one was aware at this point, but the unscathed man was never a target. That’s because the men who were so intent on taking their money by force were truly his own. He could’ve walked right into the middle of the fire and walked out Clean as a whistle. Not a speck of dirt that wasn’t there before on his leather jacket.

Do you think we’re really safe here? The young boy asked the table.

I’m sure we’re fine

Of course, you think we’re fine. You're not the one who got hit in the head back there.

They ran off too, you know.

This is where we were told to wait, and this is where we will wait. Chimed in the tattooed man.

The tattooed man had been under membership for years. Old cuts and bullet scars across his body proved he’s well worth his tenure. This was just about his last straw. He knows that the organization he’s served blood, sweat, and tears for is not the one at once was. He knows that in the bag that he so carefully made sure left the first location safely was enough money for him to never worry about money ever again. He could drink and whore himself through the filthiest parts of South America, Asia, or wherever the hell he had to go to never see any of these people ever again. Unfortunately, for him every single person at this table had a gun and a knife to match. Fortunately, for him time was on his side. They were supposed to be there until sunrise, and he knew that all he had to do was wait for them to not be paying attention and kill the cop, the kid and the lucky son of a bitch who didn’t get touched at the shootout.

The kid finished his cigarette and asked for another.

You sure did like that one, didn’t you? Responded the cop. I didn’t even get halfway through mine.

Do you ever shut the fuck up? Ask the unscathed man.

Well, I don’t mean any trouble now.

Of course you don’t.

And what do you mean by that?

Just shut the fuck up and give the kid a cigarette.

I fully intended to.

Thank you. He said sarcastically. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go try and catch some sleep. The unscathed Man unworriedly goes and lies down in the corner. He looks up at the wooden boards of the ceiling, counting spiders to fall asleep.

How are you holding up, Kid? The cop asks.

I’m OK. One of them got me pretty good in the back of the head. My vision is still a little blurry, but I can feel it getting better.

Oh, the blessing of youth. I wish I could still heal that well. I’m about 50% sure I twisted my ankle in there, and I’m about 100% sure I’ll be feeling that for the next month.

The tattooed man is noticeably annoyed listening to their conversation.

I think I’m just excited to go home. I’ve done deals in the past but nothing like this. I know that the boss really just wanted numbers here and I guess now I know why. Anyways, I really have to use the bathroom so I’ll be back in a second.

The boy stood up and removed himself from the table. Walking past the unscathed man lying on the floor, who had his eyes closed and his hands underneath his head, acting as a pillow. All he could wonder was how he was able to sleep after being that close to death?

The light breeze was cold and crisp, and the boy could hear crickets chirping somewhere out in the nothingness that surrounded him as he was standing there relieving himself on a nearby tree. He couldn’t see very far and what he could see was blurry from his head injury. One thing that was very clear, however, was the sound that broke the silence. It sounded like they must’ve turned the TV on far too loud back in the house. Like they were watching some world war three action packed movie. For a second he couldn’t even process what he was hearing but the boy was smart enough to know he needed to run. Unable to finish his business and leaving a wet stain in his trousers, he could still hear the noises going on behind him. He watched as the house was illuminated with flashes of light.

Hiding behind a tree far from the house but close enough to still see it from cover seemed like the only reasonable thing to do. He couldn’t believe his luck. leaving to use the bathroom right when their enemy gang came in. He stayed low and in cover, monitoring the house to make sure that the enemy gang left so he could see their whereabouts. No cars started. No voices. No footsteps. They never left, so he waited.

He slowly made his way back to the house, trying to peek through the windows and see where the intruders were hiding. He was confused. Why would they make so much noise and then hide? Peering through the window, he saw multiple bullet holes in the unscathed man. Still lying the way he had last seen him, with his hands still behind his head. Then he looked at the police officer and the tattooed man. They both were dead and bleeding on the floor and had their guns in their hands, which seemed to be pointed at each other.

Where was the killer?

The boy continued to hide outside until the sun began to roll over the hills. That was his cue to leave. He went back inside after the many hours he spent hiding outside, making sure the coast was clear. The intruders must have left without him noticing, but why leave the money? He retrieved the keys, got in their car, and left. The street was clear just as their boss instructed.

The boy, however, did not go back to his gang. Instead of going right, he went left. Instead of going left, he went right. Instead of going up, he went down. Sitting outside a small dry cleaners was a young girl, the same age as him. They embraced each other, got in the car, and drove away. No one knew, but the boy's secret all along was that after this last deal, he was gonna run away forever, and so he did.