A gunshot could be heard throughout the northern vicinity of my small hometown in Barronstad, Kansas. It wasn’t rare for a gunshot to be heard in this place; in fact it was almost a weekly occurrence, but if I had to be honest with myself, it always scared the living hell out of me to hear them. What really strikes me as odd is the fact that most of the time, a person would fire multiple bullets to make sure their target was dead, but it only takes one for whoever decides to take another man’s life that morning; the thing that really makes it all the more scary is the indication that he was close by; if you could hear the scream of the dying victim you could guarantee that you could’ve been a potential target had they picked another house to quench his/her thirst for bloody screams and the satisfaction of one less man to look at.
And thus, my day started like any other day, unlike the rest of the residents in the neighborhood I slept in two places, the rooftop of the car wash place where I normally work at or under the bridge if it ever started raining or the weather was a bit too unbearable for me. All of the earnings I got from my job at the Car Wash wasn’t for a shelter or home, rathermore I will save for at least 2 months before I would go to an abandoned workhouse along the highway and there I would see a weapons dealer and a dear friend of mine named Ethos.
Ethos and I had met during a random encounter at a Quiktrip that was near my gas station, at the time, all I had was the old knife my father had given to me once I had joined a Boy Scouts troop. Ethos was being cornered by 4 thugs and were yelling at him to drop all of his possessions and he’d walk home without a bullet. My first instincts were to ignore the situation after all, that would be one less mouth to feed. But, I minute later I found myself running away from 3 of the 4 goons due to backstabbing one of them. This gave Ethos the time he needed to load his Akimbo Stallions and ultimately stopping the 3 nimrods from doing any harm to me or more importantly everyone else. “Thanks, but I could’ve handled them myself you know.” I said, devoid of any expression or emotion. “Yeah, like an old rusty pocket knife would survive an actual gunfight.” Ethos replied with a cocky, sly grin on his face. “Hey, better than what you can do!” I said back, thinking that would be the end of our conversation but Ethos had other plans. “You look like the type of person that would do this sort of thing, saving people with what you have without thinking twice. Why don’t you come to my place? I could give you something a little more… effective.” “Why would I take up THAT offer? It’s not like I’m planning on leaving this place to venture out and into the cold and cruel parts of Earth!” I questioned with slight concern on why someone who was my age (13 years old at the time), who would be running his own arms dealership. “Hey, we all know that this place will be on the verge of collapsing soon! Look at all the violence that’s been happening lately!” Ethos exclaimed. “You need something to protect yourself and a knife isn’t going to cut it!” He continued with a sly grin on his face, as if he knew that the pun he made was a crime against humanity and no one liked it. “Okay, okay fine!” I finally said. “Good boy! We can get into my vehicle and we’ll be off!” The white hair dyed boy said with sparkles in his eyes. “Hey, I’ve got my own ride! It just needs some gas that’s all!” I said, declining his offer to ride in his van. “Let me just get this thing refilled and I’ll be right behind you.” I said. Except there was one problem…
“It only accepts credit card…” I said while staring blankly at the gas station. “Well, what did you expect dipshit?” Ethos asked while trying to contain himself from laughing, but it was no use. “HEY IT’S NOT LIKE EVERYONE HAS A GODDAMN CARD THAT SUPPOSEDLY STORES MONEY FOR YOU!!!!” I yelled, frustrated with the circumstances I was forced to put up with today. “Well, how much fuel do you have left?” Ethos asked finally being able to control himself from the events that ensued a minute ago. I’ve only got enough to get back to the car wash station that I work in.” “Well, I’ll follow you and wait until you park your motorcycle and then you can hop on mine and we’ll be off.” “Sure.” Everything went exactly according to Ethos’s plan. And we were able to his “weapons shop” in no time. From that point on, I always carried a pair of SAP Gloves with me at all times, these weren’t ordinary gloves as they provided warmth and these things have brass knuckles built into the gloves themselves that so that they’re also a concealed lethal weapon in case things got hairy in the streets, and to be honest I never knew these existed until now, I also bought a Five-Seven Pistol which I hid in a box under the bridge that I slept under during storms. I told myself to never under any circumstances bring or use the gun unless it was important.
So back to the present, I heard that a biker gang known as “The Shadow Unity” was arriving at our place tomorrow, probably to refuel, since we also had a small gas station. I could use that one for my own but the last time I did, my boss threatened to fire me if I did that again, so I never bothered. But those guys at the Unity have given other people hell before and their fame and bounty grew with every stop they’ve made, so I was going to need something that would make them think twice about messing with my hometown. Luckily, Ethos never really liked shotguns and they weren’t really selling too well either so he was willing to give one away to me for free, a Remington Spartan 453. So with that I walked back and put it in a slightly larger box and buried it along with the Five-Seven that I had buried about 2 years ago. The biker gang had pulled up about that time so as I was heading back I heard my boss yelling, “Point the knives in a safe direction and I won’t call the cops!” He exclaimed, with obvious fear in his voice, this was the first time I’ve ever heard him so scared in my life, that was concerning. I thought that I should run and call the cops and let them handle the situation but I knew that by the time I did, good ‘ol Simon would be a goner. So without thinking I screamed “Hey! Leave the old geaser alone!” and rushed toward one of the 7 bikers and with as much power as I could, punch him in the back of the head and he was knocked out cold. The 6 other bikers saw this and their first instincts were to pummel me, but their leader emerged from behind and stopped them before a fight broke out between his gang and I, “Hey! Settle down!” The 6 remaining gang members looked at their head-honcho with confused looks on their faces. He then focused his sights on me and continued, “I’m truly sorry for the distress we have caused to you and your friend, we were just here to refuel our bikes when one of our fellow members got into a fight and all your buddy wanted to do was stop it.” He glanced over at Simon (my boss) and expressed his gratitude toward the old man and left. I can’t say for sure, but I could’ve sworn that I heard him mutter something about, “The revolution will begin next sunrise…” The rest of my day went on without anything interesting happening. However, I tried to think about what the blonde’s “revolution” could mean and I hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with them again. By the time nightfall came around I was sleeping under the bridge due to a potential thunderstorm; believe it or not, Wink Summers was right for once. So I laid there, awaiting the next day where I’d go and see another old friend of mine, someone who I’d not seen since my parents had died. But apparently something happened, he arrived, but not in the condition for a friendly conversation, but on the verge of death.
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