Young Gun

Freak, these bozos actually believe this crap.

“So, you’re saying you can do the job?”

The guy was wearing one of those really fancy suit coats. His shirt was wrinkled though, and a kinda rat lookin’ thing made of chest hair was poking out over his collar. He had his collar up, and I couldn’t get Dad’s dumb Elvis costume out of my head. I could tell the guys around here were scared of him. The kind of scared the kids are of me at school. The “Geeze you terrify me, so I’ll be you’re personal slave so you don’t beat me up” kind of scared.

I guess I’m just too cool, ‘cause this dufus didn’t scare me at all.

“Yeah, whatever you want, boss.”

Dang, this chair is comfy. I leaned back and put my hands behind my head. Most kids my age would probably look like midgets in a chair like this. Freak, poor Bobby would probably get eaten by the thing. End up with his face on milk cartons, or something stupid. Fortunately, I’m what Mom calls a freak of nature. Heck, I’m taller than most of the guys here.

San Diablo seemed kinda… weird. I dunno. Like he didn’t trust me or something.

“You ever done a job like this? You seem pretty fresh.”

“I do this kinda thing all the time.” I waved him off. Just like Dad at his poker games. “Didn’t you hear about the stabbing last week?” There had to be a stabbing last week. It’s freakin’ Chicago.

San Diablo laughed, but he rolled his eyes. “Which one?”

Nailed it. “The one that didn’t end up on the news.” Stupid gum is getting stale. It was like moving a pebble around in my mouth. It squeaked on the way past my teeth while I chewed.

San Diablo threw up his hands. “Whatever. Look, I just need ya to off this kid who’s backed up on his payments. Some druggy. He shouldn’t cause ya any trouble. Ya know, we’ve got a reputation to uphold. Can’t have our customers thinking we’re a charity. Off him, keep the scene clean. And this goes without sayin’, don’t you whisper to anyone who sent ya or why you dun it. If you get caught. Keep. You’re mouth. Shut. Capiche?”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Shouldn’t be too hard, right? They do this kinda thing all the time in movies. I sat up in my chair. Nothin’ like some high stakes to feel alive. That’s what Dad says. “What about getting paid?”

“You’ll get it when the job’s done.”

San Diablo bared his teeth at me and stood up. I just looked at him. What? Did he think I was stupid, or a pushover or somethin’? He pulled something out of his jacket and came around the table. I swear the room froze when I saw the gun in his hand.

“Get on with it kid before I do some repainting with your brains.”

Desertion is the better part of value, right? People tell themselves something like that when they wanna feel strong bein’ a coward, I guess. It didn’t really make me feel better, but it got me out the door pretty fast. I think I left the back of the chair on the floor. I looked back, but San Diablo’s goons had closed the door already. I took a deep breath and patted down my shirt. Yeah, bozo, that’s right. You clean up after me.

I snatched a gun and stashed it in my deep pocket on my way out of the club after watching the dancers for a while. Dang… them legs… Too bad I had a job goin’. I guess if this turns out I may be back here more often. A heavy hand slammed down on my shoulder, and I couldn’t help jumpin’.

“Hey kid! This club is 21 and up.” The guy turned me around so fast I swear he gave me whiplash. He looked like a freakin’ grizzly bear with how fat and hairy he was. A grizzly bear with some sick shades. I thought about San Diablo in the back. Dude, you’ve got bigger problems than underage drinkers.

“Chill man!” I’m a super mature 14-year-old. I swiped his hand off and grabbed my brother’s wallet out of my back pocket. “I’m 22!” Good thing Al has a freakin’ baby face.

Mr. Bear snatched the wallet and sighed as he took in the credentials.

“Sorry kid.” He threw the wallet back to me and walked away.

Yeah, you better run! I pulled on the wings of my jacket and walked out into the rain. Even in this city, I could hardly hear a thing over the constant drumming. That worked for me just fine. The louder the rain, the cloudier the sky, the easier I figured it would be for me to get away clean. I pulled under an awning and got my flashlight out to look at the photo and address again. I realized I’d need to get a taxi.

I flagged a guy down and got into the back of the car.

“Where to?”

Good thing Al carries cash. “Lucky B. Street.”

I handed the guy his cash and sprawled out on the backseat without bothering to buckle. I felt something vibrate in my pocket and I pulled out my phone.

“I hope you know you’re dead.” The text read.

I smirked and started typing. “How long did it take you to figure it out?”

“I’m not kidding, Chuck. You can’t just take my stuff.”

“Parently I can.”

“You’re dead.”

“Whatever.”

I just shut the screen off. I’d have to deal with Captain Observant later. Maybe I could pay him off with some of the cash. I shut off vibrate after a while and checked the address. It was in an older part of town. Not the touristy older part, but the super gross old part that people think about demolishing, but they’re too cheap to actually bother with it. Besides, it would just make the homeless epidemic worse. But then, the people living there were pretty much homeless anyway.

The cab finally pulled up and I got back into the rain with my hood pulled up. The driver was in a pretty bad hurry to get out. That’s what I figured anyway when I heard his tires squealing on the pavement. There were a couple people out on the street, but they seemed pretty out of it. Most of them were probably high. They seemed pretty out of teeth too. And the whole block smelled like it needed a shower. Just another great thing about the rain.

I swung the flashlight around trying to match the face. The photo had an actual house number on it, so maybe he was sleeping inside where it was dry. That’s what I would do.

I didn’t make a big show of sneaking up to the guy’s door. It wasn’t locked, but the door was rotting to hell so it probably wouldn’t make a difference if the guy did lock it. It was even darker inside than it was outside. I mean, I didn’t think that was possible, but that’s how it was.

“Oh Shmmm!” I had to screw my mouth to keep from yelling. I tripped over something, and my hands fell into a net of something sharp. I twisted around and started squirming. It felt like someone had me by the throat. I’ve never felt such an adrenaline shot in my life. I got even more tangled. I was really panicking now. My hands were shaking, but I got my flashlight out and clicked it on.

I screamed. There was a freakin’ face right in front of me! It was one of those stupid statue faces. I don’t know what I was thinkin’ but I screamed like a freakin’ demon child. The net, or whatever kept me tangled so I couldn’t get out.

“I’m too young to die! Don’t kill me, man! I was just playin’!” I kept screaming and talking like that forever. Cryin’ a little too. I think I peed myself somewhere in there, but I was so wet I couldn’t even tell. Then somebody else started screaming and crying with me and the actual light came on.

Some chick was standing by the table freaking out. I looked down and hurried to get out of the mesh I was stuck in. This racket was bound to get some unwanted attention. I panicked. I pulled out the gun and shot her. I pulled the trigger 6 times before she finally shut up. 

It was an hour before she hit the floor. Suddenly, everything was quiet. I couldn’t even hear the rain, or the sound of the gun as it bucked in my hands. Blood sprayed out over the wall like an abstract painting. I’d never seen so much blood.

“MONICA!” Someone screamed and came around the corner. He was naked in the doorway and his eyes were bloodshot from sleep. The guy noticed the body first, and he went totally still. I looked down and saw a gun in his hand. I was breathing hard and suddenly I could move. HE’S GONNA SHOOT ME!

I raised the gun and started firing again on impulse. My aim sucked so bad that he got in a couple shots before he went down. One of his bullets got me in the shoulder. My finger kept twitching and I shot a few more holes in the wall before I dropped the thing. I couldn’t think. It felt like my shoulder was stuck on ice, but it didn’t hurt. I tried to get up, but my body wouldn’t work right.

The police found me like that. Except when they found me, I was hurting. A lot. More than I’d ever hurt in my life. I was loopy when they shoved me into the back of an ambulance. Everything after that is just a blur. Shouting voices. Pain meds. My Mom crying. A lawyer telling me he would help me, but I knew he was lyin’. Heck, I didn’t even want to help me. Some judge putting me in juvey. The drive up to hell.

They’d shown me pictures of them while the trial was happening. I saw pictures and videos of Monica out with her friends. I heard about the guy, Dan, and his criminal record. It felt so unreal. I recognized them. I knew I’d shot them. I knew I deserved to go to juvey, but I fought it anyway. I mean, I needed something to do. I wasn’t that bad, right? I was just a kid.

When I got to juvey I felt about as blank as the walls did. Just… empty. I’d always been the tough guy. The confidant guy. The guy on top of all the other guys. Suddenly, I was at the bottom of the food chain. I hid in my room whenever I could. I wasn’t just hiding from the fights I knew I would lose. I was trying to hide from the ghosts. I’d stay awake all night because I knew they’d be there when I fell asleep. Eventually they came while I was awake. They accused me. Damning me with my own memories.

My psychiatrist said that everything I felt was normal. Like vomiting my guts out. Screaming and crying in the middle of the night. The self-loathing. Remembering their faces. I told him everything, like a wimp. Even about San Diablo. Then my nightmares got worse, imagining what he’d do to me when he found out that I’d squealed. The shrink said our sessions were confidential, but I knew the truth.

It was a relief when I finally made up my mind. They found me hanging from the window on a bedsheet rope the next morning.