Time's Up

“I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket. I’m, I’m, I’m huntin’, lookin’ for a come up-” The ringtone of Macklemore’s 2013 hit song “Thrift Shop” abruptly ends when a hand searching for the source of the sound finds its target.

“H-hello?” the sleepy voice of a woman asked.

“May I speak to Jason?” The voice on the phone asked back.

The woman shot upright from her sleep daze and grabbed the arm of the person lying next to her. “I think you have the-”

“Ma’am, I’m not the one you must worry about. If you want to live past tonight, give the phone to your husband, ‘Clint Crawford’.” The voice interrupts with a sarcastic tone.The wife is gripping the arm of the slumbering husband so tight, he wakes up startled.

“What the… its midnight Lydia, why are you-” Clint sees the look in her eyes and knows something is wrong.

“Jason. The phone is for you.” Lydia says.

“Lydia. My name is-.”

“Jason. The phone. Now.” Lydia interrupts, slowly handing over the phone.

“Hello, who is this?” Clint asks.

“Clint Crawford. Also known as Jason Whitman. You’ve had ten years to the day to know what was eventually going to find you. You have until thirty past midnight to prepare your family. If you want to live, listen to me now.”

“No, this isn’t right,” Jason immediately stands up, Lydia now looking frightened.

“Now, now… don’t fly off the handle just yet.You’re wasting precious time.” The voice says. Jason clenches his fist really hard, his heart feels like it is about to beat out of his chest. “You’ve lived a beautiful life for the last ten years, and we at the agency are so happy that you did not revert back to a life of crime. Though you had a few… hiccups along the way. Couldn’t keep the gambling demon back after awhile huh?” The voice says in a playful whisper. Jason stands there and grunts loud enough for the voice to continue.

“Good, you’re learning to listen. So, back to your family. What you might not know is that this whole neighborhood… are people just like you. Someone in their house has a person… who spoke the truth… while facing none of the consequences of their past actions. To put it bluntly, you snitched to save your life, and subsequently your family.” The caller takes a break for a reply.

“Go on.” Jason replies.

“A man of few words now? Not like that’s going to save you this time. No, what we are here to do is offer you the final test. You’ve been living as a normie for a long time now, probably forgot about the people you put behind bars. Yes, they are incarcerated, while you get to have sex with your wife and watch your children grow up, so touching.” The joy in this other person’s voice has Jason trying all his therapist’s techniques to control his anger. “But not everyone gets put away. Hell, even the ones that do can get out on good behavior, can you believe that? Murderers and rapists out of jail?”

“Quit preaching and get on with it.” Jason says, putting the phone on speaker and traveling to his closet to grab the bat he uses for softball. However, it wasn’t in his sports bag. In fact, a lot of items were missing.

“Hey, don’t worry about weapons, you’ll have some at your front door.” Jason looks around the room, seeing a newly installed camera in the corner. He makes his way back to the bedroom, seeing two more cameras watching his every move.“Like the new surveillance? You need to let me finish before you start playing the game. This neighborhood is ours, catered and watched by our agency. With a few buttons and spin some dials, we can put the whole neighborhood to sleep so they won’t hear a thing. Shit, we’ve done this to your family a number of times now. But its your turn to be… the awake ones.” Jason lunges at the closest camera to tear it down, but an electric current shoots through his hand, sending Jason flying back while Lydia screams. The smell of burnt flesh and smoke fills the room, as the camera he touched is destroyed by the shock.

“This is why we put more cameras in… so you don’t make that mistake more than once. Luckily, we didn’t put the full wattage on when you touched it.” Lydia helps Jason back up, his hand burnt on his palm and fingertips. The caller continues, “As I was saying, everyone is asleep. No one can save you and the only cell phone you have that works is that one. I bet you didn’t even notice it wasn’t your actual phone, just a copy of your phone with that stupid ringtone. Reminder of that year you snitched?”

“Fuck you. What do you want from me?” Jason asks.

“We are giving you the final test of our program, I told you that, try and keep up. Those people you put away have friends that paid a lot of good money to find you and your family. Well… Guess what!? We gave them that information!” They exclaimed.

Jason’s eyes widened after hearing this. Lydia comes back from the bathroom with medical bandage wraps to apply first aid to Jason’s hand. “At thirty past midnight, these goons will be breaking your front door down.They are in a van down the road stocking up and waiting for their electronic lock to open up. You now have the remaining time to pick up the package at the front door, figure out what you’re going to do with the kids and your wife, ‘are they going to fight, are they going to hide, oh no, the ultimate dilemma,’ whatever you want to do, that’s your prerogative.” Whoever this person was, Jason knew this wasn’t their first rodeo.This person sounded like he got a sick pleasure out of this.

“So, the fun part. You live, you get 75% of the money they paid for the information of your location, and we move your family one last time to wherever you want in the world with identities even we won’t know, and you will never hear from us again.” Jason looks at Lydia, stunned and confused by this revelation.

“But, if they come in and kill you… well, then its money well paid for them, your family will probably die, we stage this as an accident of some sort… maybe a family suicide depending on how you get killed, and we here at the agency chalk it up as you fucked up. I mean, it’s not like anyone knows who you really are besides us.” The voice says, laughing at the last comment for a moment. Lydia is now crying, listening to all of this as she finishes wrapping up his hand. Jason runs to the door but finds that it’s locked.

“No jumping the gun, good sir.” The remaining functioning camera turns to Jason. “This is the deal. You live, you get to actually LIVE, and your enemies will no longer look for you ever again.You die, everyone dies, we keep the money.” The door buzzes as an electronic lock mechanism can be heard, “Now you’re free to move about the cabin, grab your care package and enjoy your flight!Oh, and this phone will self-destruct in 10 seconds.”

“Mara, grab the kids and stay at the top of the stairs while I grab whatever weapons and whatever they left at the door.” Jason says, opening the door to see the hallways covered in plastic sheets. The walls, the carpet, the doors… everything but the newly installed cameras.

Mara wipes her tears and runs down the hall past Jason to the kids’ room, the electronic lock on the outside opening for her as she gets to the door. It feels as if she is being watched by a prison guard, and they are allowing her into their cell.

Jason runs down the stairs, leaping past the landing and almost slipping on the carpet. His hand slaps the railing, an injury he had already forgotten about in the confusion. Jason rushes to the front door, looking out the window to see a basket wrapped in a plastic sheet, like it was an Easter basket.

“Jason, I have the kids!” Mara yells at the top of the stairs. Jason spins to see his two kids sleepy-eyed and confused.

“Stay there, I’m going to grab these weapons and do something before this all goes down here.” Mara yells out to him, but Jason’s heartbeat is filling his ears, and he can’t hear her. Jason opens the door, grabs the bag, and immediately he begins to open the wrapping. In front of him are two pistols with silencers on them, a couple of ammo magazines, two kitchen knives, and another cell phone, already on with the same caller from last time.

“Hello again. Don’t bother leaving the house.” The mysterious agent says, as two armed men in full-tactical swat gear emerge from the sides of the house, guns pointed. “They are here to make sure you and your family don’t make a run for it, because if you do… BANG.” Gun shots go off, hitting two spots on the ground next to the basket. Jason falls back into the house, startled while Mara and the kids scream, thinking he was shot. Jason quickly gets back up and snatches the basket, bringing it inside. The caller had hung up in the commotion, but a text message appears shortly after saying ‘Call the number if you’re still alive. If you don’t finish by 0130, this house becomes YOUR TOOOOOMB.’ The clock reads ‘0017’.

Jason runs up the stairs with the basket, putting it down when reaching the top. He holds Mara and the kids, trying to calm them down. “Daddy’s fine, I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you all.” Jason says, kneeling down to his daughter’s level, “Reina, I want you and your brother to go back into your room and hide under the bed. Don’t come out unless we say the word “Starfish,” okay?” Jason wipes Reina’s eyes, the nine-year old confused but nods her head after hearing her dad’s instructions. “Take Lil G and hide now.”Jason stands and turns to Mara; she is clutching their five-year old son Gordon in her arms. Jason hugs and kisses both kids and they run back to their room, the door still open.

Mara looks through the weapon basket, “Jason, what the fuck do we do with two guns and a few knives?” It’s now twenty past midnight.

“We have to set up somewhere.” Jason and Mara grab the basket and run downstairs; the rest of the house has those same plastic walls. Everything was wrapped up or had plastic wrap draped over the furniture.Jason cuts the wrap from the table in the dining room and flips the table over, making a makeshift barrier.It’s now twenty-two minutes past midnight. He pulls the pistols from the basket and loads the magazines into the well. “Hold the pistol.” Mara takes the pistol in her hand, “Now take your knife and hold it in the grip.” She takes the knife, facing down. “Aim towards anyone that shows up, if you don’t hear me say ‘Texas,’ assume the person walking in the room needs to die.” Mara twists her head to look him in the eye.

“I understand.” Mara replies.

“I’ll hide in the living room, and I’ll do what I can and bring them to me. I’ll make sure the kids are locked in the room.” Jason said. He kisses Mara, grabs an extra magazine, and makes his way upstairs.Twenty-four minutes past midnight.

Jason runs up the stairs so fast, he almost trips; not a great move while holding a pistol and a knife. Entering the room, he kneels down next to the bed, “Starfish. Come out really quick.” Reina slides out, giving her dad a hug while trying not to cry. “Is your brother under the bed still?”

“Yeah. He’s scared. We’re both scared.” Reina replies.

“Stay under the bed no matter what, do not say anything, do not cry. I’m going to close the door, and we will come back for you, okay?” Jason gives his daughter a few more kisses. She nods her head again, and crawls under the bed. She cuddles her brother. Four minutes left.

Jason closes the door and runs back downstairs, cracking open a few doors to make them seem like active hiding places. He settles behind a couch, getting himself situated for the incoming assault. Three minutes. Three minutes to wait for the storm that’s about to run through the life he built over the years. A hurricane of the past he was told was gone forever.Three minutes of sitting, contemplating the choices he made. Life scrolling through his brain like a social media album of videos and photos. Two minutes. Sweat is pouring down his head, his palms are sweaty holding a gun, something he hasn’t felt in years.

“Mara.” Jason yells out.

“Yeah?” Mara replies.

“You got this. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The silence is deafening. One minute left. Jason shifts himself into position, the darkness of the night and lack of lights keeping him shadowed. He aims his gun at the entrance of the room. There’s nothing else left to do but wait. In a rush, his mind runs through the scenarios, remembering the people he worked for before he snitched on them, the wetwork he did, and skills he left in the past now resurfacing from troubled memories.Thirty seconds.

“Jason?” Mara whispers loud enough for him to hear. He doesn’t respond. Ten seconds. The numbers count down in his head. Five. He checks the chamber. Four. Three. His mind quiets down. Two. One.

Silence. A car door opens, men can be heard conversating and laughing, the door closes. A number of footsteps approached the door.

“This is it.”