Killers

Rusty and beat up, like a dessert mesa, the building rose. Lonely among the red sands sitting silently centered in a patch of blacktop, hot and stinking of oily asphalt fumes.

“What time he supposed to show up”

“Said Three o’clock”

“Well it’s goddam half past three o’clock now, he’s fucking late”

“Shut up”

“What d’ya mean shut up, the guy was supposed to be here half an hour ago, you shut up. I’m sick of this stink. Maybe he changed his mind.”

“Maybe.”

“What we going to do if he don’t show.”

“We’ll do it ourselves.”

“You’re nuts, we ain’t never done something like this ourselves.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, you ain’t scared of it are you?”

“Fuck no, I ain’t scared of shit.”

“Sure.”

Waves of heat rose from the blacktop, shimmering mirages beyond the car’s hood, then, a stretch of baked concrete leading to a door.

“Le’me see the gun.”

He reached under the seat, feeling the upholstery brush his hands as he felt along the carpet, finally, feeling the grip, he pulled at it. It got caught in some wiring and spring work.

“Shit, this things gonna go off, blow my balls off in the process. Damn thing’s stuck.”

“Don’t blow your balls off, just get the gun out.”

He got it loose and tossed the gun on the seat next to him.

“There ya go, there it is. Now what, we gonna go or we gonna wait. We ain’t never done anything like this ourselves before.”

“Nothing to it.”

“Nothing to it my ass, we ain’t never done this ourselves before.”

“We just walk in like we own the place, walk down the hall, open the door and shoot the bastard. Simple.”

“Simple eh? You been inside? You know the layout? You know where to go?”

“Shut up.”

“Fuck you, you shut up. I say if this guy doesn’t show in the next minute we get out of here. We stick out like a sore thumb, there ain’t no other cars around us, people gonna wonder what the fuck two guys are doing sittin in a car in a goddamn half empty parking lot on such a hot fucking day. This stinks.”

Five minutes passed.

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah, let’s go, it’s about time.”

He opened the car door, stepped into the heat clutching the gun and shoving it into his pants.

“I thought you meant let’s get out of here!”

“No, we’re going to do this thing. C’mon.”

The door handle burned the second his hand touched it. Yanking, quickly, the door fell open and a wash of cool air flooded across his sweated body filling it with sudden chill.

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