Ash had already taken three smoke breaks since he was told to wait, and he was starting to get impatient. Looking in, he watched the mechanic stick his head into the hood of the car. Ash threw his smoke to the ground and stormed back inside. “What the hell, man?!” he yelled.
The mechanic stuck his head upright, like a gopher startled out of its hole.
“You’ve checked that engine four times already! What the hell are you lookin’ for in there?”
“I was just—”
“How about I stick my nose into your business until you stop dicking be around and give me my damn money?”
Ash stormed into the front office. The mechanic followed, but wasn’t quick enough to reach the room before Ash had already dug out his doodles from the front desk. The first drawing in the stack of papers had been a two-panel comic. The first panel showed two cars with human eyes facing each other. The car on the left said, “Why aren’t you driving?” The second panel showed a poor imitation of the first image—although the cars were in the same positions, their proportions and anatomy were messily different. The car on the right responded, “I’m just taking a brake.”
“Oh my God, dude,” Ash rolled his eyes, theatrically obnoxious.
“Stop it.” He had been shaking of embarrassment.
“Then give me my damn money so I can get the hell out of here!”
Ash had been so absorbed in this, that he only noticed the fleet of parked, red tow trucks surrounding the front of the garage when the men who had arrived in them entered the front office. There were five tow trucks and ten men in mechanic’s jumpsuits (not including the one who had been keeping Ash busy).
Ash looked around at them with an ignorant bravado. “Sorry pals, but I was here first. You’re gonna have to wait your turn until this dickhead gives me my money.”
One of the tow truck drivers turned to the mechanic with a casual, friendly nod. “Hey, Jon.”
“Hey, Jamie.”
“This the guy?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
The ten of them, all muscularly massive, began approaching Ash.
A juvenile smile formed on his face. “Oh, I get it.” He slim arms raised both of his fists to a ready stance at the sides of his face. “Alright then, fellas. Let’s dance.”
Traveller, Rose, and the vagrant hid behind the cover of bushes across the street, watching the action unfold through the window.
Surprisingly, Ash had been putting up quite the fight against them. He hadn’t called it a “dance” for nothing—it truly did look at though he were dancing around them. While the Hook members stiffly approached him directly, Ash had been weaving between them with a flowing ease. One of them would swing a punch at Ash’s face, but before the fist could make contact, Ash’s bouncing legs would carry his head somewhere else, where he could safely throw a punch of his own.
Traveller pointed to one of the members. “I know that one. The one with the red specs. He fixed up my car back when we first met.”
“That one’s Jamie.” Rose knew all of them.
Ash ducked under another punch, but as he prepared for another punch, Jamie dug his fist into his slender stomach. Ash’s legs shook, struggling to keep upright. He shakily reeled his fist back to return a blow, but another fist hooked into the side of his head before he could, knocking him back onto the ground.
Ash sunk below their view through the window, but judging from how the ten men’s stomping boots, it was obvious Ash had lost this fight.
Ash’s bleeding face finally returned into view, lifted by the collar and dragged away to the back room, limp legs dragging behind like a path of slime left by a snail. The rest followed, closing the door behind them.
The front of the garage was completely baren now.
Rose slumped, no longer looking towards the garage. “Poor guy…”
Traveller studied as much as he could through the window. “It looks like there’s no one watching the car right now.” Traveller jangled his car keys in the air. “Luckily, that kid didn’t need to take these to hotwire it.” Placing his keys back into his pocket, he turned to Rose. “This should be easy. Rose, keep watch. Let me know if any others show up while I’m in there. Do you know how to do any bird calls?”
Judging by her stammering, he assumed her answer was no.
“Just make any sort of loud noise then.” Traveller took one final look around before standing from the cover of the bush. “Whatever comes to mind.”
“Wait, what’s the plan?
Traveller was shocked that she even had to ask. “I go in there, check if all my money’s still there; if it is, I steal her my car back and we all get the hell out of here.”
The vagrant finally spoke up. “How do I know you’re not going to just speed off without paying me? That truck really eats up gas, you know.”
Traveller groaned. “Alright. After I pull out of there, you two ride back to Foxmead. I’ll meet you there after I lose them and trade you the money for her.”
The vagrant nodded, pleased with this arrangement.
“What about Ash?” Rose asked.
“Not my problem.” Traveller walked out of the cover of the bushes.
“What about all that stuff you said back in Foxmead? About wanderers needing to help each other out?”
“That only applies for people who haven’t stollen everything I own.”
He checked both ends of the road as he crossed; other than the vagrant’s rusted pickup truck, parked far enough down the road to be out of view from the garage, and the fleet of empty tow trucks parked around the garage, the roads were empty.
Traveller ducked behind one of the Hook’s trucks and peeked into the front office one more time over the flatbed. Still empty. He took a breath of adrenaline and committed to sprinting towards the entrance.
He pushed the door open slowly to avoid the possibility of any squeaky hinges giving away his entrance, but the loud orchestra of punches, kicks, and groans that immediately assaulted Traveller’s ears through the opening told him that even if he had made any noise, they likely wouldn’t hear it. Nonetheless, he was careful to silently edge the door closed behind him.
Crouched in front of the desk, in case of any surprise guests barging through the back door, he made his way through the office and into the actual garage.
The Hook members hollered excitedly at the continued beatings, as if they were drunkenly watching a football match.
Reaching the white Cadillac, Traveller made his way to the trunk first.
He turned the key slowly, ensuring that the lock remained as quiet as possible.
The bag was still there and seemed to still be just about as stuffed as he left it. Zipping it open, he got his confirmation: it was still stuffed with money. There’d be no way of knowing if a stack or two of bills were missing, but that would just be a drop in the bucket anyways—not important enough to risk detection over.
He noticed a small, white strip of paper sticking out from the pile of bills. It was only after he felt the thick waxiness of the paper between his fingers that he knew what it was.
Flipping the paper revealed the four photographs on the other side, all running down the strip within a purple border. They were photos of him and Violet, back when they had started dating in high school, pressed up against each-other in the tight confines of a photobooth. One smiling, one embracing, one silly, and finally, one kissing.
Her face sent his entire body into shivers.
Knowing now that this had been in the bag all along, he found himself realizing that he would have been fine if it was all gone—the car, the money, the bag—so long as he could still hang onto this one memory.
Forcing himself back to reality, he carefully stuffed the photos into his pocket and zipped the bag shut tight. He edged the trunk shut and slid into the driver’s seat, only to find his knees pressing against his chest. Wanting to curse out Ash for messing with his seat and mirror positions, he adjusted them as best he could, although they still didn’t feel as perfect as they had before.
He placed the key into the ignition, ready for his speedy escape, but didn’t turn it yet; he’d first have to run to the garage door’s switch, then run back, start the engine, and drive out of there before any Hook members could stop him.
He continued to listen to Ash’s torture as he approached the switch.
“Where’d you get this car from?” Jamie loudly asked.
Ash coughed (likely blood). “Found it.”
More blows landed on him.
Traveller reached towards the switch.
“You stupid kid. Just tell us where and who you got it from, and we’ll let you go. Was it a guy or a girl?”
Traveller froze. He heard the sound of paper rustling from within the room.
“Did you see her? Did you see Rose?”
Traveller listened carefully.
“Found it,” Ash replied with a vocal shrug.
The beating resumed.
Traveller’s hand refused to press the switch.
He made his way back to the trunk, opening it and the zipper to his bag just as carefully as last time. He pulled out a fairly sizeable stack of cash and closed both again. He stealthily escaped the garage, leaving the car behind.
“What are you doing?” Rose whisper-yelled to him from across the street.
As soon as he reached their end of the road, he held out the money to the vagrant.
“Here’s your money.”
“Hah?” He confusedly grabbed the cash.
“Things are about to get loud and messy. You should get out while you can still get paid.”
“What are you talking about?” Rose asked.
“I’m going back in for the kid. I doubt I can do it without getting their attention.” He turned to the vagrant. “Actually, could you do me a favour and get her to safety before that happens?”
The vagrant nodded.
“Wait a minute!” Rose called out to him. “I’m right here you know. I can hear you.”
“Rose—”
“—You saw how many of them are in there. If you’re really going to do this, you’re going to need help.” She unconsciously smirked. “You’re going to need my help.”
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