My Spot (standard:Suspense, 5439 words)
Author: demonseed	Added: Apr 27 2003	Views/Reads: 3567/2472	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
he thought he could just get a look but.....

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

we must be there at 6 precisely.  He also say we have only 5 minutes to 
finish job.  We will have two for unloading and two for watch.” 

Another thick accented German said. He sounded overweight. 

“I know, we all know. You tell us 10 times now, we know.” 

The first one to speak replied. 

“You know now, good. We screw this up, I kill you.”  Fat man said. 

“Yah, fuck you too brother.”  He sounded a bit Irish. 

A mini-sound of drum and bass jangled from my cellphone.  Quickly
turning off the ringer, the caller id revealed the caller to be 
Charlie.  Probably wondering what the hell happened to 5 minutes.  The 
fat sounding guy told someone to go out check if he was finished.   
They didn't seem to hear my phone call.  I send a text message: be 
there in 5. 

Once again I left the haven of the bush taking a quick glance at my
surroundings.  An outrageously stupid thought occurred to me, I wanted 
to see what was going to go down.  I could go to Charlie's, pick up 
that gram, borrow his bike and be at the bridge in 10 minutes.  That 
was plenty of time to get to my spot in the park. 

I managed to slip across the street just as the warehouse door was
banged open again.  The Suburban was nowhere to be seen but headlights 
shone from inside the warehouse as the ice cream truck inched out of 
the warehouse.  A look at the driver revealed that the original man was 
not driving.  The truck does not stop to shut the door but the original 
driver waddled out.  He is dressed a bit different.  He now donned a 
fisherman's hat, sunglasses and a big black coat.  This fat man slowly 
scanned the area as the truck made a left, going up Tyler. I ducked 
behind a van parked across the street before he could spot me. 

I looked across through the windows of the van, as the man did something
strange.  The man shut the warehouse door from the outside but after he 
closed the door he just slowly walked up Tyler on the same side of the 
street as Charlie's house. The fat man was 5 houses from Charlie's as I 
followed on the opposite side of the street.  Pulling out my cell I 
sent another text message to Charlie: Peep outside C. 

Damn that fat shit walked liked a slug, I thought as he stopped and bent
down to rub his leg.  He took off his hat and clearly winced in pain.  
The guy was a gimp.  No wonder he walked so slowly, I thought as he 
passed Charlie's house.  I never did see Charlie look out of his 
window. 

Trying to stall for a bit, I bent down to tie my shoe.  The fat man
turned left on Kettle Street as I dashed back across the street.  
Reaching his porch I could hear his phone screaming for attention.  I 
pounded on the door like an obnoxious Jehovah's Witness as I checked my 
watch. It was 5:45. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Danny?” Charlie said standing in the
doorway with his robe open and happy face boxer shorts. 

“Why the hell you gotta be so damn loud man?” 

“Ah shit Cee, just hurry up and open this damn jail door.” I said of his
heavy steel security door. 

“Alright dude chill the fuck our you act like your being chased.” 

“Nah, nah I'm in a hurry.”  I said. 

“Why where you going in such a hurry?” He asked. 

“I'll tell you inside.” 

Charlie opened the door and made his own survey of his neighborhood. 
When I got inside I was immediately struck at his new set up.  He had 
everything and it was all brand new.  We sat in the living room as I 
soaked in the new home improvements. 

“Damn Cee, putting in some work I can see.” I said still looking around.


“Yeah, yeah homey, I've been doing real good.”  He replied. 

“That's good to hear bro, seriously.” I said with a wry smile. 

“Anyway, did you look out the window?” I asked. 

“Yeah Danny, you weren't talking about that fat dude were you?” 

“Yeah.  How long have they been around here?” I wondered. 

“For a while now man, remember my little chronic business?”  He asked. 

“Well they put a stop to that in a hurry and put me to work for them. 
They set me straight with how things were gonna be around here.” 

“What do you mean, they?” I asked. 

“Them dudes at the ice cream truck yard. They said they would kill me if
I didn't work for them.  Simple as that homey.  Those fuckers don't 
bullshit.” “Wait a minute Cee, what about your dad, he's a fucking cop. 
What the hell did he do with all this?”  I demanded. 

“Well look around Danny, look at all this shit we have now.  I make
$25,000 a week for those guys and keep $5,000." He smiled. 

“You're not just selling bud anymore I presume.” “Check you out,
presume, shit I wish I went college, anyway, yeah, you are right about 
that.  Just call me Mr. Epills.” He said with a sly smile. 

“So that's what they were up to.” I said to myself. 

“What do ya mean Danny?” 

“Well I heard them talking about something going down under the bridge
in, shit in 20 minutes.”  I said glancing at my watch. 

“Wait a minute.  Why the hell are you worried about them for?” 

“I don't know, I guess I want to check it out.”  I replied. 

“You're fucking nuts bro, they'll kill you if they find you.” 

“Damn Cee, you look worried.” I laughed. “Besides, they won't find me,
I'll be at my spot, you know no one can find me there.” He shook his 
head at me with this sort of worried dread one might only see from a 
mother before one goes off to war.  We had been friends for a long 
time, Charlie and I.  We've been through some hard times so when he 
looked at me with that dread I felt a lump create in my throat.  
Charlie always had had a bad feeling, but he had never showed that face 
before. 

“Man you sound like a little bitch, just give me the gram and let me
borrow your bike.” 

“Why do you need my bike it's just down the street, just walk fool.” 

“Nah bro, I need time to get to my spot.” I told him. 

“Damn, you are fucking nuts dude.” 

Charlie shook his head again.  But I didn't seem to worry.  I didn't
know why.  He managed to really make me realize just how stupid of a 
thing I wanted to do.  Yet there I was itching for him to give the gram 
so I could get down there and see what in fact those Germans were up 
to. 

“Come on then.”  Charlie gestured toward the back. 

He led me through his hallway leading to his bedroom.  I got to his room
and was amazed at how cramped his room was.   Boxes stacked high to the 
ceiling littered the small bedroom.  Charlie told me that they used him 
for all sorts of things and one of them was to store these unmarked 
boxes.  The only thing that to seemed in place was a high-powered 
telescope aimed at the stars. 

“Damn I wish I had this thing to watch with.”  I joked. 

“Yeah right fool, I could see you walking down the street with that big
ass thing.  Here, smell this shit.” 

He handed me a baby food jar full of fluffy little balls of beautifully
smelling chronic.  Charlie then handed me a small pair of binoculars.  
I examined them.  They were extremely light in weight but very durable. 


“I know they look small but they work great.”  They were small enough to
fit in my pocket. 

“I don't have any baggies, sorry bro.” 

“Where the hell am I going to this shit in fool? It's going to dry up.” 
I said. 

I looked around his room for anything and spotted a roll of film
container.  It was small for the generous gram but I managed to shove 
it in anyway. 

“Where's your bike Cee?” I asked. 

“You're really gonna go through with this?  Well it's in the back.” 

“Ok cool.  Dude I'm just going to watch.” 

“You are one stupid fuck Danny.”  He said with another shake of the
head. 

“Man Cee you know I'm a crack commando, fool.  Shit I train Navy Seals,
I think I can handle some German fucks.” 

“Dude, you are crazy, Danny you don't even make any sense. Whatever
dude, don't say I didn't warn you.” He said. 

“Where is your dad at anyway?” I asked. 

“Some policeman's retreat or something won' t be back for 3 days.” 

Charlie's alarm clock illuminated 5:55.  I only had 15 minutes to get to
the bridge.  Charlie's phone begged for attention again.  He didn't 
answer the phone.  I told him I was going to leave. 

“Are you sure you are going to go over there?”  He looked genuinely
concerned. 

“Let me answer the phone, some girls are supposed to stop by and pick
some pills and an eighth.” He pleaded. 

“I'll be alright Cee.  You really do look like a bitch standing there
all concerned and shit.”  Now I shook my head. 

“It's just, well those dudes ain't gonna bullshit if they find you
snooping around, and besides those girls should be here any minute.  
Why don't you just wait, homey?” He pleaded again. 

That really started to get to me.  I told him that I was gonna take off
and would bring his bike back when I was done with it.  He said, all 
right homey he guessed he would see me soon.  I felt I had to get out 
of there and left his room quickly.  What if they did see me, I 
thought, they would probably kill me. 

As I opened his side door, his phone rang again.  Rex, Charlie's cat,
zipped past my feet into the kitchen.  Damn that cat was old I thought, 
as I shut the door behind him.  The daylight slowly departed into a 
reddish evening.  I got to the backyard and see the 5 new dirt bikes 
sitting on top of a new trailer.  Wonder what's in the garage, I 
thought.  Shaking my head with a smirk, I spot the chrome Dyno bike. It 
will make for a perfect that should take no more than 5 minutes.  I hop 
on the bike and Charlie came rushing out of the house. 

"Yo Danny, hold up for a minute and we can drive over there.” 

His phone rang again. 

“Why the hell do you want to go now?  I thought we established that I
was the stupid ass.  Why the hell are you going to get involved?" I 
demanded. 

He stood there with that pathetically concerned look on his face.  I
opened the gate and turned around to tell him to just stay but he was 
gone.  His phone stopped ringing.  He probably answered the call.  So I 
decided to take off, pedaling down his driveway, and turning left up 
Tyler towards the bridge. 

Four blocks away, I arrived at the stop sign at Brock Dr. sitting on the
bike.  Across the street lay a road that sloped down; leading under the 
bridge to a small park.  A heavy steel gate blocked the access road.  
The park used to be the “spot” for a group of dealers that had a pretty 
good operation going on until the new mayor put a stop to that by 
sending a unit down there 24-7.  That was five years ago.  It still 
seemed out of commission.  Or so it seemed. 

It was 6:00 and if those guys were on schedule, it left me with 5
minutes to get to my spot.  After pedaling to the steel gate, I saw the 
trail that led to the river below the bridge was barely intact.  It was 
a steep decline but I decided to slowly bike it down the trail, I 
needed to make up some time.  At first the ride was smooth, then the 
trail became less navigable. 

The bike was of no more use, so I discarded it under a thick bush. 
There was a trail and it became smaller as it ran parallel with the 
river.  Traversing this alternate route proves to be no easy task.  
Broken littered the trail and for a few yards it formed a sort of red 
carpet for me.  Damn hoodlum kids, I muttered.  Ah shut up fool you 
were worse, I muttered again. The glass was no match for my evil black 
steel-toed Timb Boots.  Ha take that glass.  I am fucking weird, I said 
aloud, as the glass crunched under foot like fresh snow. 

The trail actually widened a bit for awhile.  A watch check revealed it
to be 6:05.  I had 5 minutes and I still had about 100 feet of a barely 
visible trail. 

I was almost to my spot.  The same exact spot I used to watch the “game”
as I called it.  There was so much action there for awhile that I could 
find to entertain myself.  Up in my spot, I could see the whole 
operation go down.  There were these kids my age that “played football” 
but actually were watching for cops.  Homeless people also played the 
role of distraction.  If and when the cops did arrive, these “bums” 
would do a number of things to allow ample time for the “pushers” to 
escape.  It was a nice little operation. 

Finally arriving at my spot, I took in the familiar view of the building
that once served as the restroom and daycare facility.  My old sleeping 
bag I used lay buried a few feet under the earth. 

It was a little before 6:10, the supposed time of this little shindig. 
There was still no sign of the ice cream truck or Suburban.  Could have 
sworn they said they would need to be here in 20 minutes, which would 
be 6:10.  And I'm positive they said Portland Bridge.  What the hell, I 
pouted. 

Oh well, I guess I'll roll this blunt and wait and see if anything
happens.  The park was a small area but audibility across the park was 
not at it's best.  Seeing was another story, especially with these new 
binoculars, visibility was very clear. 

Complete silence enveloped the area except for the occasional car,
passing overhead across the bridge.  A semi-truck blared it's horn, 
followed by screeching tires.  Metal being scraped hard against 
concrete wailed across the park like a sad ghost.  Silence is what 
followed next. 

“Close the gate,” yelled one of the Germans. 

That wailing of scraping metal was just the gate.  Hmmm, they're just a
little late, I smile.  I put the blunt down and pulled out the 
binoculars.  Training the lenses across the dimming park, I find the 
gate.  A tall man stood sentry at the gate, while the Suburban rolled 
down the slope to the park.  The truck stopped on what used to be the 
sandbox.  The “old pushers” used to use that for “storage”. 

The trucks four doors simultaneously opened, but only three men emerged
surveying the park.  A zoom in on their bodies reveals all to be 
strapped with ak-47's to their chest.  Holy shit, I thought.  The 
driver turned back to the truck yelling something inside.  It appeared 
he was ordering someone out of the truck.  The guy reluctantly got out 
of the SUV making his own survey of the area.  What the hell? It was 
Charlie.  He kept looking around the park until he settled on my 
position.  He looked right at me. 

The driver told Charlie something and he walked around to the back of
the truck.  I glanced back to the gate sentry.  He was gone.  A glance 
down the road revealed him to be riding shotgun in the ice cream truck. 
 The driver was the gimp.  They must have done some kind of switch.  
The truck pulled up alongside the Suburban.  The gimp and the sentry 
got out also with ak-47's are strapped to their chests.  The driver I 
thought was a gimp got out of the truck pretty easy. He put on some 
kind of front maybe luring someone away from the warehouse as the 
Suburban left. 

The sentry got a call.  It's very short call not lasting but 5 seconds.
I wondered if they were there yet.  My eyes pressed against the lenses, 
I look up at the entrance gate seeing a black Mercedes with pitch black 
windows slowly coast down the slope to the park.  The Mercedes backs up 
to the side of the ice cream truck.  The Suburban driver motions to 
Charlie snapping him out of a trance.  He shook his head then proceeded 
to the Mercedes and the ice cream truck. 

Charlie hopped into the ice cream truck  “Mr. Gimp” goes to help
Charlie.  From inside, Charlie shoved with both legs a huge wooden box 
about the width of the Mercedes.  Mr. Gimp single-handedly pulled the 
box out of the truck and onto the ground.  Charlie revealed himself 
from the truck with a crowbar smiled at Mr. Gimp obviously embarrassed 
at his weakness. 

The occupant or occupants of Mercedes, remained in the vehicle.  Mr.
Gimp grabbed the crowbar from Charlie, jammed the business end into the 
slit in the box and with one massive thrust up into the air, the lid 
popped off onto the ground.  Mr. Gimp told Charlie something and he got 
out of the ice cream truck. 

Charlie went to the Mercedes and knocked on the driver's door.  There
was no response from the driver but on the passenger's side, the back 
door swung open and a monstrous man got out and joined Charlie on the 
driver's side.  Next both the driver and passenger exited the Mercedes. 
 These men brandished police issued shotguns in hand.  Monster man bent 
down to the box and smiled.  I tried to see what the box's contents 
were but they were too deep in the box.  Monster man gestures to the 
driver as he knocks on the back window of the Mercedes. 

I look for Charlie but he is not by the box anymore, he slowly crept
over to the other side of the ice cream truck.  He was obscured from 
the Suburban guys.  Charlie still had that nervous look he had when I 
left him.  He took a deep breath and ran as fast as what look like he 
could.  That crazy bastard ran directly at me. 

What the hell was going on?  They're going to shoot his ass as soon as
they see him.  Sure enough, as Charlie reached the patch of trees that 
led to my hiding spot, two of the Germans fired several rounds at him.  
I saw Charlie maybe 10 yards from me, he seen me too.  He ran a few 
more paces toward and me collapsed.  Oh no, they got him.  I stayed low 
to the ground and slithered to my fallen friend. 

My boy Charlie lay flat on his stomach gasping desperately for air. 
Where are you hit I whispered.   I looked back at the trucks but they 
didn't follow to finish him off.  He was covered in a film of sweat, 
his hair matted to his forehead. 

“Danny, Danny are they coming?”  He managed. 

“No bro. they're not. But you should stop talking.” He smiled weakly. 

“Damn Danny I wished you didn't get involved in this shit.” “ What do
you mean?”  I asked. 

“A bro, I'm not shot, I faked it, so I could get away.” 

“ What do you mean your not shot, they shot like a hundred rounds at you
fool.” 

“I'm just lucky.  What are they doing now, are they coming?” 

Charlie had a mixed expression of dread and anxiety.   He told me again
that he wish I didn't get involved.  Well I'm involved, now tell me 
what the hell is going on.  We got back to my spot.  I looked for the 
dropped binoculars.  When I found them, Charlie had his back to me 
digging like a maniac into the ground.  He turned around with a long 
metal toolbox looking thing.  I stared at his back as he opened the 
box.  A sniper rifle with a very impressive scope lay cushioned in the 
box with towel. 

“Ah man Cee, what the hell is going on dude?"  He didn't respond. 

Charlie looked down at the men through the scope of the rifle; his
finger softly squeezed the trigger.  I looked through the binoculars 
and saw the two shooters aiming in my general direction.  They didn't 
seem to know where we were.  Mr. Gimp didn't look pleased, he barked at 
the other Germans.  Charlie chuckled from behind the rifle.  “ He's mad 
because they didn't chase me. 

Mr. Gimp now stormed to the Mercedes' back window.  The huge monster man
stepped up to Mr. Gimp to stop him but Mr. Gimp was too fast.   He 
snatched the shotgun from monster man's grasp and smashed the butt of 
the shotgun into his face.  Blood streaked from monster man's forehead 
causing him to really resemble a monster. 

The two shooters advanced on the Mercedes.  A loud bang registered from
Charlie's rifle, as a huge hole created on the side of shooter #1's 
face.  He goes down.  Shooter #2 hesitated as Charlie fired another 
shot. 

The Mercedes' driver dashed behind the ice cream truck.  He popped out
and blasted a hole in shooter #2.  He rolled back behind the Mercedes, 
popped back up and blasted the sentry in the face.  I looked for Mr. 
Gimp and found him dragging the wooden box back to the Suburban. 

A coincidental thing happened, both of the drivers's came out from their
protective spots at the same time.  Neither one seemed to hesitate.  
Both ak-47 and pump-action shotguns went off simultaneously. 

I looked at all this through the binoculars in what seemed like 3-d.  
The magnification of the small binoculars was extraordinary.  The 
Suburban's driver must have got off 20 rounds before the spray of the 
shotguns pellets ripped through his chest with extreme ferocity.  The 
Mercedes' driver wasn't so lucky.  After his one shot went off the 
ak-47's bullets mangled his face beyond recognition. 

Finally, the back door of the Mercedes flew open.  A stocky guy wearing
a black coat jumped out with a .357 magnum in hand.  No dad don't', 
Charlie screamed.  He got up dropping the rifle at my feet and sprinted 
forward to his father.  He ran at that same slow speed he ran away from 
the ak-47s. 

A look through the binoculars again shows Mr. Gimp's attempt to relocate
the box to the Suburban, was close to completion.  Charlie's dad was 
right behind him and aimed the .357 at his back.  Mr. Gimp slowly 
raised his hands.  I saw Charlie slip behind the Suburban. 

Mr. Gimp with same tremendous speed he conveyed moments before reached
into his coat brandished two handguns.  The two guns spit out 4 shots 
each.  Gary, Charlie's dad would surely be wearing his bulletproof 
vest, but I also knew that a few shots got to his face.  Gary went 
down. 

Charlie jumped out from behind the truck, scream at the site of his
fallen dad.  Shit homey, I said aloud, watch out for... My heart sank.  
Mr. Gimp emptied the remainder of each gun's clip into Charlie back as 
he ran for his dad.  I dropped the binoculars.  Mr. Gimp was still 
visible in the dimming light.  He advanced on Gary.  He was still 
alive.  Mr. Gimp bent down, grabbing Gary's shirt into a fist and 
brought him close to his face.  He said something to his face and drove 
his thick fist deep into Gary's face.  Gary. Charlie's father, the guy 
that took us to our first strip club at 15 years old, fell limply to 
the ground. 

Mr. Gimp now walked to where Charlie lay.  Nah, fuck that, you're not
going kill my bro too, you damn bastard, I yelled.  I picked up the 
dropped rifle, took aim and found the back of Mr. Gimp's head in the 
scope.  As I checked for ammo, he advanced on Charlie.  I didn't know a 
thing about shooting a rifle so I pulled back on this hammer thing and 
saw bullets inside.  Taking aim again, I found him and fired. 

The recoil of the blast disoriented my aim.  Did I get him, I wondered? 
Once again I took aim and found him facing me trying to find the source 
of the shooter.  It was really getting dark and I knew he couldn't see 
me with those sunglasses.   He looked around as I found him in my 
crosshairs and fired again. 

After the recoil, I adjusted my aim and couldn't find him.  I looked
down seeing him on the ground with a softball-sized hole where his left 
eye used to be.  Lying a few feet from Mr. Gimp is Charlie.  I saw his 
chest barely rise and fall.  I ran to the parked cars and to my 
kneeling friend.  His eyes were closed but as I approached he opened 
them up and gave a weak smile. 

“Damn Danny I didn't know you could shoot?” He spat blood as he spoke. 

I smiled at my friend. 

“I was lucky bro, shit I don't know how to shoot.” I honestly said. 

“My dad?”  He asked. 

“Sorry homey, he's gone.” I said as I lowered my head. “What the hell
went down here, Cee?” 

A breath emitted from his chest every 5 seconds.  My friend was dying
and I knew it. 

“My dad...” his voice trailed off. 

“Don't talk Cee, I gotta get you to a hospital, you need help." 

“Shit, homey I can't feel nothing.  Does this mean I'm dying?” 

“No bro, just stop talking.” I pleaded. 

“Danny listen.” He coughed up blood all over his chest.  “Go to my
dad's...” He fell back into unconsciousness. 

“What Cee?” I knelt closer to him as he coughed up more blood all over
my pants. 

“My dad's cabin, you remember right, Danny?”  His eyes bulged out of his
head. 

“Yeah I remember Cee, what for?” 

“We buried $200,000 that we stole from those Germans. I want you to get
and keep it bro. My dad would too.” He smiled. My crazy dad was trying 
to bust these guys and get a promotion.” He tried to laugh but coughed 
up more blood. 

“Shut up Cee we're going to the hospital.” 

He wasn't going die, he couldn't. This was just supposed to be a show. 
It turned out to be... I can't even think about it.  I picked up my 
friend and tried to drag him gently to the Mercedes.  Damn he looked 
real bad.  I could see several bullet wounds all over his chest and 
stomach. 

“Danny, oww shit Danny stop, ow it fucking hurts, ow stop, dude.” 

I gently lay him down. 

“Hey, I gotta know bro.” This guy wouldn't shut up. 

“Know what Cee?” I asked. 

“What was it? I never saw what it was.  My dad said not to worry.” 

“Ok bro, I'll go look.” I said looking down on my dying friend as he
fell back into unconsciousness. 

I left him there to go fulfill his dying wish.  Sirens wailed nearby.  I
walked back to Charlie to tell him that we needed to get him to a 
doctor but he was already dead.  He lay there motionless, eyes staring 
blankly with that same pathetic worried look on his face.  I sat there 
stunned at the situation that lay before me.  Hold it right there, 
freeze don't move.  The voice came from the blocked off entrance gate.  
It was S.W.A.T.  Fuck that I thought I'm not taking the heat for all 
this shit.  I took off running down toward the river.  I ran from that 
park like the million other times I ran from someone at that park, 
mostly cops.  I knew these parts better than anyone did. 


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