The stench was almost overwhelming. In the dim fluorescence cast upon the gloomy interior, visions of disgust and filth etched themselves onto his eyeballs. A dirty foam-fabric mattress resembling something that had once been hewn with a pickaxe. Sections of walls smeared over in some black, oily substance. In the far corner, a rising heap of empty beer bottles and crushed cans. And on the opposite side, just a bucket and stool. The contents of which he had no desire to find out. It also appeared to be the main source of foulness pervading the small hovel. He had witnessed men hiding out in the most extreme conditions of poverty, but it seemed there were yet more layers of horror further down. By the doorway, the vague silhouette of Miguel stood, two black holes of a long, metal barrel aimed straight at him. Even in the poor lighting, Joe could discern a set of pale teeth gleaming back at him.
”I know, I know. This place could do with a little tidy up, right? Well, I didn’t know I was gonna be tending to uninvited guests tonight. Hope you understand.” His voice drawled throughout the room with a deep, growling twang. It was irritating, yet satisfying all at once. Revenge would be served up with an added touch of sweetness. It was simply a question of when, he thought to himself.
”Oh no, quite the contrary.” Joe replied, with a twisted grin of his own. ”I like what you’ve done here. It’s got a… a certain homely charm about it. For a man in your position, that is. So it’s commendable you made the most out of your hidden kingdom while the going was good. Coz times just about run out, my friend.”
Miguel tilted his head to one side, moving over to the lone table in the centre of the room. He picked up a solitary beer can, prising open the aluminium tab with one hand and taking a large swig. All the while, his sights trained on the seated target. ”Oh really? Well, from where I’m about stood, you’re the one about to set foot into his own private kingdom. The one with the pearly gates?” He tapped a finger upon the muzzle of the shotgun. ”My quiet little friend here will be only too happy to oblige getting you there. Free of charge too.”
”Let’s cut the shit, Mig. Your done and you know it.” Joe hissed back, losing his patience at the simple back and forth banter. ”Orlon is coming for you and he ain’t gonna stop until you're either dead or turn up at his doorstep ready for some of his special treatment. I don’t need to tell you twice. You’re in a whole world of shit right now.”
Miguel paused for a moment before nodding his head in contemplative understanding. ”Right, now I get it. There’s a bounty on my head. That dumb asshole stuck a price tag on the side of my ass and you show up out of the blue, loaded up to the nines and ready to dish out some financial vengeance on his behalf. I gotta hand it to you. You don't waste time. He has no idea where I’m at, does he? In fact, how the hell do you even know?”
”You’d be surprised what my knife, a box of matches and a fistful of salt will make a man confess to.” Joe sank back into the chair, locking both hands behind his head. ”But that’s the least of your concerns right now. You raped the boss’s daughter and took an entire case of expensive notes. Did you lose your mind or something? What in the lowest pits of Hades possessed you to do that, Mig?”
”You got it all wrong.” Replied Miguel. ”I was setup and some yet-to-be-identified punk ass bitches are putting it all on me. I had nothing to do with that. You think I’m crazy? I was earning good money and all of a sudden, I’m gonna lose my shit and destroy the reputation I’ve worked so hard to build? As well as forego my life in the process? Don’t make just much sense when you look it over proper now, does it?”
Joe sniggered out of the gloom, shaking his head. ”Oh, you didn’t hear, Mig? She actually confirmed it was you. Emerald gave you up first thing that morning. You beat her pretty bad too. So a show of mercy ain’t something you can expect any time soon. That I can absolutely guaran-fucking-tee you. So you explain to me? Why in the hell would she lie to her own father about something like that?”
”I don’t fucking know, man.” Came the answer in a trembling voice. ”But I sure as shit am gonna find out. Sitting around waiting for the likes of you to turn up, ain’t exactly what I had in mind. I’ll get to the bottom of this and Orlon will learn the truth. That… I can guaran-fucking-tee "you".”
Miguel could see the broad shoulders of Joe lean forward in his chair. He took a step back, raising the shotgun with his finger readied on the trigger. ”You fucked up bad just now. You gotta know that. Right, Mig? If you’d just let me have taken care of you in my own way tonight, any sane person would have considered that an easy escape. I could have spared you what’s eventually gonna come. When his boys find you, you’ll suffer for days, perhaps even weeks. A barrage of constant pain and torture in retribution for what you did to that poor young girl. You’ll be wishing you could turn back the clock and get back to this little rendezvous and accept my offer instead. But it'll be too late by then. You’re a dead man walking and all I'm doing is escort you to your rightful destination. Let me do my job here and now. Don't add to your list of fatal mistakes. And I promise. I’ll make it quick. I’m levelling with you here, that wasn’t my initial intention prior to arriving here. But seeing as you outsmarted me, I’m cutting you a one-off deal. As a reward of sorts.”
Miguel took another sip from the open can as Joe glowered up at him from the chair, elbows resting upon either leather-clad thigh. ”Don’t delay the inevitable. You know there’s no way out and only one sensible option. I’m trying to be the better man and help you out here.”
Joe waited for a response, but frowned at the reaction he received. Miguel let out a torrent of bellied laughter, echoing around the walls of the dank, stinking enclosure. He settled back into a composed state, though still baring a wide, gaping grin. ”Thank you for your kind offer. Don’t think I don’t appreciate it and all. But there’s just the one small inaccuracy with your proposition. I ain’t no dead man yet. If I’m still breathing, I’m still searching. And that’s the way things stand till the natural forces that be change them. Until then, I think I’ve outstayed my welcome here and might be on my way for now.” As Miguel backed away towards the front entrance, he observed Joe. An unmoving black shape hunched over in his seat, yet watching in the dark him, burning with rage. The feeling sent a cold shiver up his spine, yet the objective was clear. Get the hell of out there and down the road as fast as possible.
His fingers fumbled for the door handle whilst he remained trained on the vague outline of Joe. The silence was broken by a guttural mutter in the background. ”You know once you leave here, I will find you. And I will have no remorse.”
The door swung open to a cool night breeze passing over his face. The stale heat contained within that claustrophobic unkempt dump produced rivulets of sweat running down his temples. Something he had not been aware of until now. About to make a swift exit, he glanced over at Joe one last time.
”I ain’t no rapist. And I sure as hell ain’t no killer. So count your star's as it seems you'll live to see another day. Though I do have a job for you and the price is me not having to blow seven shades of crimson out of your head. You go tell Orlon when you see him. I told you I was innocent and also for him to watch his own back. There’s some kind of private coo planned and they wanted me gone. Well, they’ve succeeded so far. But they won’t win this war. I’ll return with the evidence I need to clear my name and that's a promise. From me to you to him. Easy enough to remember, I'm sure. Oh… and thanks for the bike. I always wanted my very own Harley.”
