“So, Alberto’s at some geezer’s farm now?” Joe and Gene both sat in the front seats of the black Mustang. Joe drove and Gene read Alberto’s last message off his phone.
"Not just 'some geezer.' It's Mr. Stone, man." Gene asked. “Want to check it out?”
Joe waved him off. “What’s the point? He’ll be done by the time we get there.”
“He hasn’t sent an update for about half an hour now…”
“What?” Joe turned his head towards Gene, neglecting the road ahead. “Are you sure?”
Gene nodded. “Yeah. Last message was thirty-six minutes ago.”
“Gene. I need you to be extra sure. I’m not gonna waste the gas driving there just find out that he’s either already either got the bounty or it’s a dead-end when we’re only five minutes away.”
“Joe!” Gene yelled, pointing ahead.
An old lady with the walker had slowly inched herself halfway across the road ahead of them. Not having enough time to brake, Joe spun the wheel to the right until half the car leaned onto the grass off the road. The Mustang drove just behind the old lady, avoiding collision.
The Mustang messily regained its course within the lane. Looking back through the rearview, the old lady hadn’t even seemed to even notice that she was almost killed.
Joe slammed the steering wheel, resisting the urge to turn around and run her over. “Fuckin’ geezer!”
Alberto’s eyelids struggled open. Two voices bickered, but he couldn’t concentrate on the words. He blindly scanned his surroundings. A hammer, a screwdriver, and a multitude of other tools hung on the wall of the workshop.
A third, softer voice spoke up from the other end of the room. “He’s awake.”
Traveller and Slater stopped bickering and turned to Alberto.
Alberto felt a dull ringing pain on his head. His arms were tied behind his back, around the spine of the wooden chair he had been seated on. “Why am I still alive?”
Traveller and Slater both turned to each other.
Alberto chuckled. “You think you can keep me around as some sort of bargaining chip to get out of this alive, right? Let me be the first to assure you, these guys only care about themselves. The only way out of this alive is with me.”
Slater paced to the other end of the room, shooting a piercing glance at Traveller as he passed.
Rose stood against the corner of the room, tapping away at Alberto’s black cellphone.
“Any luck, Rose?” Slater asked.
Rose shook her head.
Alberto raised his head. “Rose.”
She skittishly looked up.
“You know we’re not after you, right?” Alberto’s lizard eyes seemed genuine for once. “We couldn’t care less about your little domestic at the motel. I’m here for something he did. For your own safety, I suggest you get out of here while you can.”
Many thoughts had passed through Rose’s mind since Traveller knocked Alberto out; the shocked look on her face revealed that abandoning them had not been one of them.
“He’s right.” Traveller said, turning his back to her as he approached the tools on the wall. “You should go before you get hurt.” He picked up the hammer and carried it to Alberto’s chair, picking up a nail that had been on the workbench along the way. He leaned his face close, holding the nail above Alberto’s leg, ready to pierce down at the swing of the hammer. “Give us the pin to your phone.”
Rose couldn’t move.
Alberto looked into his eyes, not blinking.
Traveller swung the hammer.
“Argh!” The nail fell to the ground as Traveller let out an excruciating scream. He dropped the hammer and stepped back, holding at his throbbing thumb.
Slater shook his head. “Jesus, kid. You dad really didn’t teach you anything, did he?”
In a futile attempt to stop the pain, Traveller put his thumb in his mouth like an infant. “If you’d just leave with us, we wouldn’t even have to worry about this! We’d already be long gone right now.”
“No. Seriously, what the hell did he teach you? How to stay home alone and watch TV?”
Traveller’s fist shook.
Rose’s eyes perked up. “Home alone…”
The three men looked back towards Rose.
“What?” Traveller asked, quietly aggravated.
“We know they’re coming. We have time to prepare. We can set traps.”
Traveller stopped sucking his thumb and released his fist. “Like in Home Alone?”
“Yeah. Like in Home Alone.”
Gunshots echoed through the open field, bouncing off the surrounding wall of trees, up into the blistering noon sky. The full, glass soda bottles stood in a line in the distance, each untouched by the bullets.
Slater’s arms were crossed. He turned away, unable to watch anymore. “Jesus, kid.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. My old man didn’t teach me anything.”
“Instead of whining, you should hit your damn target.”
“You wouldn’t even have to teach me any of this if we’d just leave.”
Slater swiped the rifle from Traveller’s grasp and aimed it towards the bottles. He looked through the reticle and fired.
There had been a loud metallic sound, but no glass shattered.
Slater tossed the rifle into Traveller’s fumbling hands, then crossing his arms and turning away from the bottles again.
Traveller smirked. “Not so easy eh?”
Slater confidently cocked his head back to the bottles. Traveller looked again, finally realizing what Slater had done.
Each of the bottles stood upright, but one of them had fizzed until soda violently erupted out the top like a volcano. Slater shot the lid off.
Traveller slowly dropped the binoculars.
“This old house is all I have,” Slater said. “I’m not running away.”
“See?” Gene said, excitedly pointing towards Alberto’s abandoned car, still parked in front of the distant house. “I told you something was up!” Joe and Gene laid on their stomachs, hidden behind the concealed safety of the bordering forest. They had a clear view of Traveller, now all alone, still failing to hit his targets. “What do you think? Others are probably gonna be arriving soon. Should we just wait for reinforcements?”
“And let them get the bounty?”
When it came to constructing the traps, Rose was the brains, and Slater was the hands. She understood all the theoretical mechanics required, but Slater had all the practical knowledge needed to materialize the ideas.
“Can you teach me about mechanics?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Hah?”
“I was just thinking. He doesn’t seem to know too much about cars. It might help him to travel with someone who does.”
“Pass me the scissors…”
Slater cut the excess rope, leaving only the tight tripwire, which led through makeshift pulleys towards the trigger of a shotgun, mounted on the wall, pointed directly to the door.
“Careful when you come in!” Rose yelled out to Traveller. “It’s set up!”
“Coming!”
Slater rose from his knees and walked into the kitchen, adjusting the new carpet on the kitchen floor.
Traveller cautiously stepped over the tripwire, into the house. “How’s it coming?”
Rose nodded, without confidence. “Well, it’s not nothing.”
“That’s about all we can hope for I guess.” Traveller leaned the rifle against the wall. “So, what’s your plan for after this?”
“After?”
“Since we’re gonna make it out of this alive, you should start thinking about where you’ll want me to drop you off.”
“…” She stood and walked up to the workshop on the second floor, each of the tools in her hands. Traveller followed.
Alberto was obviously still seated where they left him.
“Anything I can help with?” Traveller asked.
Rose methodically returned the tools to their location. “I’m fine. I’m already done.”
“Why haven’t you left yet?” Alberto called out to Rose. “You don’t look stupid.”
Rose meekly shook her head, then, looking into his eyes with a somber confidence. “He could have left me when I needed help.”
Slater walked up the steps.
“And what about you?” Alberto continued. “Why are you still helping him after what he did to Ray?”
Traveller’s skin went stern and pale.
Slater was confused. “What are you talking about?”
Alberto looked between Traveller and Slater, confused. “You mean you didn’t hear?”
Alberto had sped this conversation directly towards a cliff and it was too late for Traveller to press down on the brakes now; the crash was imminent.
Alberto couldn’t help but smile. “Your ‘friend’ here drove your son off the road. His legs were crushed in the crash. I’m afraid your boy’s crippled.”
The room was still.
Without a word Slater stormed out of the room.
Rose would have asked what had just happened, but there were too many questions to know where to start.
They could hear Slater’s steps slam up to the attic, then, after a short moment, back down to the second floor.
When Slater returned to the workshop, he had a shotgun in hand and aimed it at Traveller, who was still standing exactly where he had been when Slater left. Traveller’s arms remained to his side, neutral.
“What the hell is he talking about?” Slater asked.
Traveller’s lips were tense. “Ray was chasing after me.”
“So, you drove him off the road!?”
“He drove himself off that road.”
Slater’s own breath cut through his brain like a blade. Whether or not they applied to this specific crash, Traveller’s words held truth to them. Slater had been a part of Mao’s crew back in the day, but when he saw his adolescent son follow in his footsteps and join that very same gang, he left. He begged Ray to leave with him, but he stayed. Against all dissuasion from his father, Ray drove himself down that road, towards an inevitable crash.
Slater lowered the gun.
BANG!
Slater looked down at his cold, unfired gun.
“Holy shit!” a voice yelled from below.
Traveller and Slater turned to each other for a brief moment, before rushing down the steps.
They found (what was left of) two men at the front doorway; while one was fine, the other was laying on the ground, head nowhere to be found. Slater shot at the other, but Joe managed to dive outside, behind the cover of the doorframe just in time.
“Fuckin’ geezer!” Joe yelled. He swiftly peered through the door and fired his pistol.
The bullet pushed Slater back to the ground.
Traveller grabbed the rifle that he leaned against the wall while talking to Rose and fired blindly ahead. He shot Joe in the chest, sending him flying back onto the porch.
Traveller was relieved to find that Slater was still breathing. Slater gripped sternly at his bloody shoulder. “Nice shot, kid.”
Traveller smiled sadly. “Got lucky.”
Slater pushed Traveller away and sat upright with a groan. “Don’t go cryin’ on me. It’s just a clipped wing. I’ll make it, but I’m not too sure how good my aim will be like this.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up before any more—”
“Uh, guys?!” Rose’s voice called from above.
“We’re fine!” Traveller yelled.
“No! We’re not!” Rose had been laying on her stomach, peering through the attic’s hatch door. “Look!”
Traveller and Slater looked past Joe and Gene’s bodies.
A fleet of expensive black cars were lined up, completely blocking the path to the outside world.
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