3.96 - The Drop Off

3.96 - The Drop Off

 Sampson didn’t come with us to drop this guy off, he just wanted to kill him and leave him somewhere as a warning to others. But, I gave him my word that we’d give him some money and set him free outside the city. I can’t do much for him on the money side of things, but I could at least get him out of town like I promised. Sampson wasn’t willing to lend us his car, so I took the opportunity to show Isaac how to steal a car. The fact that the guy was still alive when we came back is nothing short of a miracle.

“So, what’s your name,” Isaac asks our passenger.

“Rod,” he answers bluntly.

“We’re getting you a bus ticket; do you have a choice? Baton Rouge, Lafayette or the big trip, Houston, Texas?”

“Not a lot of choices there,” Rod responds.

“Well, the other choices are we tell everyone you gave us what we needed to know, or we let Sampson have his way with you. Trust me, if Sampson has his way with you, it won’t be as fun as me having my way with you,” Isaac smiles.

“Can we at least go to my house so I can pack a bag?”

Isaac stares at me for an answer, “yeah, that’s fine. Tell me where to go.”

Letting him go into his house alone to gather things probably wasn’t a good idea. There’re other cars outside, probably his family or he’s staying with some other guys he runs with. I should have just kept going, but I couldn’t let him miss a chance to say goodbye to his family. After thirty minutes, he doesn’t come outside, and I’m starting to get worried. After forty-five minutes, I know I have to go in there and get him, I’ll probably have to kill him. I still don’t like killing, I can do it, I just dislike it, a lot. I keep a mental list of faces, not always with names, of people that I’ve killed. I’ve tried to remove the memories of the people who were trying to kill me, but I can’t. Unfortunately, killing has become part of my life, the same way all the other crazy stuff has been.  

“I don’t think he’s coming out,” Isaac says looking away from the game on his phone.

“You think?”

“So what are we going to do?”

“I’m going to go in there and get him.”

“You need help?”

“Just call Sampson and tell him what’s going on.”  

Okay, I can do this. I haven’t fought in a while, but a bunch of young street kids shouldn’t be too much for me to handle. I knock at the door and hear footsteps running around inside, but nobody answers. I knock one more time, but again nobody answers. Before I can knock a third and final time three gunshots go off, I know they’re coming through the door without looking, I dive to the side and watch as the bullets pass through. I’ve been shot before, and I’m not interested in being shot again. Now I’ve got two options. I can go through the front door, and get shot up if they haven’t barricaded it. The other option is to break through the backdoor. If they’ve barricaded the front door, they won’t be able to escape. I settle on the backdoor and start to crawl. I don’t stand up until I’m on the side of the house and out of view.

This is going to be quick work. I kick open the backdoor and run inside. I don’t give them a chance to fight back. There’s four men inside besides Rod. The first is knocked out cold with a single punch. I manage to throw the second through a wall. Rod is trying to move the furniture in front of the door, but is struggling by himself. The third man is too afraid to fire his gun, and I level him with a punch to the gut. I lose track of the fourth in the chaos until a shotgun blast rips into my back. It’s not like the gunshots from House Marson’s hit squad, these are just regular bullets. They hurt like hell, but my body is already healing from them. I take another shotgun blast to the chest that I could have dodged. I’m getting sloppy, Destiny would have made sure I practiced at least once a week. Instead I’m letting my own blood be sprayed across my face by some guy with a shotgun and bad aim.

“What are you,” the man mumbles as I keep approaching him, unphased by two shotgun blasts.

I must be a scary sight to see, riddled in holes and dripping blood. He just witnessed me take out three of his friends without any issue. To him, this is a horror movie. He probably thinks I’m enjoying this, but I’m not. I’m annoyed because I keep trying to do the right thing, and every time it turns out bad. It doesn’t take much to relieve him of the shotgun and turn it on him. He begs me not to kill him, but I never had any intentions of doing so. I slam the barrel of the gun into his head, hard enough to knock him out and leave a nice bruise. That just leaves Rod.

“Man, you know Sampson is going to kill you now? I tried to give you an out.”

“Where was I going to go,” he yells.

“Texas. Start a new life, something where you didn’t need to sell drugs. You just sent yourself on a one-way trip to hell.”

We don’t speak anymore until a knock at the door comes. I know it’s Sampson. I fling the furniture Rod was struggling with to the side and open the door. Sampson is there, wearing just shorts, flip flops and a big smile.

“I told you, we should have killed him,” Sampson smiles and closes the door behind him. “You like shit too.”

“What now?”

“We make it look like he robbed them and vanished,” Sampson smiles at Rod.

“But they’ve seen my face, they’ll be looking for me, not him.”

“Oh, we have to kill everyone here. We just have to make his body disappear.”

I don’t argue with Sampson this time. Isaac comes in to collect money from the spots Rod points out. When I mention multiple gunshots and no police, Sampson laughs at me. He says I’d need a rocket launcher to get police to come out here. I can’t watch this, just five lives I managed to end tonight. I head outside and take the stolen car. As I’m pulling off, I hear five gunshots. I know Sampson has done the deed. I’m surprised Isaac stuck around for the actual killings. I suppose he’s more dedicated to this whole trials thing that I am. I don’t remember Sampson giving us the actual task, but I’m sure Isaac earned his pass tonight.


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