It was a cold stormy day in Boston, wind swept up the streets chilling anyone unlucky enough to have to walk to that afternoon. Two solitary figures walked down the side alley trying to block the wind with the turned up collars of their coats. They stopped in front of an abandoned apartment building. Opening the door they went inside. Steps echoed on the stairs as they climbed to third floor and stepped inside room number 301.
"Man, it's nasty outside. Thank God Smecker found us this place. I wouldn't fancy being homeless tonight." The first man said with a thick Irish accent. He shook the water out of his thick black hair.
"Yeah, it's even close to the store. We don't have to walk forever just to get a cigarette. Remember the last place?" The second man's accent was just as heavy as the first. He pulled his shirt over his short blond hair and rung it out. The last abandoned building they had stayed in had been a mile from the nearest store. It had forced them to cut down on their smoking which had made neither of them happy. This new hideout was smaller but at least they could get food and cigarettes with ease. "Murph, how long do ya think till they find us again?"
"Who knows, they keep getting sharper. The feds are no problem, Smecker's got us on that, but those Russians, man, they can sure hold a grudge." He laughed. Conner laughed with him. He went into the bathroom to get a dry shirt. Murphy just pulled his off and sank into the moth- eaten couch. He turned on the cheap portable TV. He flicked through the cannels until settling on a golfing show. Conner returned with the inevitable cigarette in his mouth.
"What on earth are you watching?"
"Golf."
"Why the hell are you watching golf?"
"Cause there's nothing else on."
"Turn to the news, I bet they're talking about us after what happened this morning."
"You'd think they'd get sick of us." He switched through the cannels until he found a news show. The standard bleach blond news anchor was interviewing the mother of an accident victim. The mother wept as the anchor asked her about her son.
"Why do they always have to do that? Why can't leave the leave the lady in peace?" Conner said as he watched the crying lady. Murphy rolled his eyes, Conner always complained when they interviewed crying people. It seemed to be a pet peeve of his.
"Breaking news this morning, the two men that have been dubbed the Saints have struck again. Earlier today they were reported to have shot and killed suspected mobster and drug runner Arnold Laker in a local bakery today. Apparently the man had been harassing the owner for a while now and it is rumored that the man had been so grateful that he gave them both free baked goods before they departed."
"He was a nice sort of chap wasn't he?" Conner smiled at Murphy.
"Damn right. Those donuts were good too." They sat in silence for a moment and then burst out laughing. Being on the run could suck but at least there were still things they could laugh at.