Jack was terrified.
He recalled the phrase "Dead man walking" and, with alarm, he realized he now understood it. A wave of nausea went through him as he approached what he thought was his death sentence. It probably was.
He started questioning himself. Just a week ago, he had been cleaning his little apartment; worrying about such petty things as school, girls, and his driving exam. Everything he had done, his hopes and dreams, they all seemed useless now, childish. Now he doubted if he would even get to see his family again.
His legs wobbled a bit as he thought about his family. How would Molly take care of herself? Would she have to get a job? He didn't want her to, she was so little, but, more importantly, would they afford food and to pay the rent without his help? He knew that answer was no. Even with their mom's job as a waitress, they wouldn't be able to live contentedly without straining. Another wave of nausea overcame him as he considered how her sister would take care of their mother.
He had tried to keep her out of their mom's situation. Every time Lindsay came home (If she did) she would be or too tired, or too intoxicated. And every time that happened he would send Molly to sleep, telling her that it was too late to wait for their mom, so she wouldn't see their mother in that state.
Although he loved her mother dearly, and he knew how hard she was trying to keep her family standing, he couldn't help but resent her a little. If she hadn't started drinking, they could have had a chance at a normal life; now he had to hold her hair while she spilled her guts out in the toilet.
He kept walking.
José, his best friend, was in no better state than him. He was silently praying for Monique, his little sister, hoping that she could get by without him by her side. Unlike his best friend, José didn't have a mother, or father. He could feel the tension in the air; but he didn't even try to crack a joke. He was unsure if he would be able to talk, when he could barely afford to think.
But he was worried about his friend. He could see him stumble, his head hung low like a pig ready for slaughter. He remembered feeling the same way, the first time he had experienced a Stand-off, and he still felt pretty much the same. José had once thought this kind of thing would get better with time. Now he wasn't sure.
The night air was thick with anxiety. A dozen men walked silently through the park, different sizes and forms, the pale glow of the moon the only light on the dark street. The shadows they casted were animal-like, the ones you'd see in an alley on a cat fight: callous, dangerous, yet filled with fright.
A tall, burly man barked a few commands as the others scrambled to their places.
Jack and José run to the other side of the street. Jack noticed their surroundings as he crouched on the back of a rusty pick up. They appeared to be in a long abandoned street; he could see an old movie theater, some posters of the movie "Finding Nemo" still hung on its walls. There were a couple of ancient-looking houses, and he wondered, with dread, if people still lived there. He wasn't sure if he could witness innocent people dying.
"José" he called to the thin form next to him.
"Mhm" José turned back to him, and he could see that his signature smile was gone.
"Do people still live here?" he asked his friend, hoping with all his might that he would say no.
A look of confusion and terror filled José's face. "I'm not sure" he paused "But probably only dealers and junkies, that kind of people" It seemed he was trying to convince himself.
Jack didn't buy it, though he was kind of relieved that he wasn't the only one horrified at the thought of more deaths. He was starting to believe that with time, he wouldn't care for death anymore. That he would turn into some ruthless killing machine, and he had been scared. But he had been much more afraid at the possibility of being alone in this. He could barely even recognize his best friend now; it was nice knowing that he hadn't completely lost him.
He hated himself for getting into this, for not being more careful of where he hang out, and with whom. José had warned him that this would happen. And he had ignored him. Curiosity had gotten the best of him. He just had to know what was happening, didn't he?
Now every thing he had worked for didn't mean anything; not now that he was probably going to die in this dark, harsh street, fighting for someone he hated, and something he didn't even believe.
His father had once told him that what makes us who we are, are the choices we take; but after all this, he had become uncertain of who he was … if he had become a bad person. He should have fought more. He should have tried to take the right choice. But now, more than ever, he doubted if there was even a right choice. They would have probably killed him if he had denied his help. He wouldn't have died a hero, like his dad; but at least he would have died fighting for something he thought was right. He wondered if that would have made his family proud. Probably not, no if they would have to deal with his death and the prospect of bankruptcy.
He shivered, partly from the cold, and partly from the panic. He was way too young to be having these thoughts. He should have been thinking about popularity ranks and homework. But it seemed to him that a more serious, mature Jack had taken his place. He just wasn't himself anymore. He had been angry at José for changing so much, but now he realized what he had gone through; he had appeared to age 20 years since last week. And still, he was just a kid, weak, and afraid.
"Um… Jack?" His friend interrupted his train of thought.
"Yeah?"
"Are you… all right?" He could sense the obvious concern from his best friend. He even smiled a little bit. He was thankful for such a good friend, or maybe not-so-good-but- yet-loyal friend.
He hesitated a bit before answering
"I've been better" He attempted a smile at José, but it faltered after a few seconds "Loads better"
José smiled knowingly "I know" And Jack was certain that he did.
They stood without talking, taking every sound of the almost peaceful night; listening to the soothing sound of the wind blowing through the trees, and the sounds of other night animals.
If he really concentrated, he could even catch the sounds of breathing of Peter Bennett and Greg Williams - two seventeen-year-olds, who were on the car next to him-and the sound of the rapidly beating heart of José. He knew his was no better.
Suddenly, there was a faint sound of police sirens. He started hyper-ventilating. His brain was melting, and his heart was pounding so hard, he was unsure whether he was having a heart attack. He waited until the sirens weren't heard anymore, and he relaxed.
A burly figure crouched next to him. "Aces" was a nice guy, at least as nice as you can get when you're in this kind of job. He was tall, and muscular, his arms were full of tattoos, which, some say, he had gotten in jail. Jack thought he was in his 30´s, but the hardness on his face made him look older. He could have easily fit in on those bars where people ride motorcycles and use leather jackets. The only thing that didn't add up to his bad-guy style was his eyes; they were big and blue, always twinkling with something that looked like mischief.
"Are you two okay there?" he asked in his gruff voice.
José was the one that answered. "Were just getting ready"
Jack gulped and nodded, trying to look calm, but Aces noticed. He was always good for reading people, and scared was something he excelled at; he had experienced it countless times before.
The way they shifted nervously, sometimes they started sweating, their eyes moving constantly, looking from side to side, how their breathing accelerated, and, if you were really putting attention, you could see how their eyes took a darker tinge. It was a really common emotion in the Ranks. He noticed that the boy was terrified; the normal thing for a first timer. He decided to calm him down, they always fought better when they weren't scared stiff.
"As long as you remember the drill, you won't die" He noticed the boy tensing. He looked like he was about to faint. It probably was not the best thing to say. He tried to fix it.
"Trust me, I've seen the plan, and its fool-proof" Aces was one of The Members; he had been working with the Chief for a long time, and he was proud to say that he was one of his best men; so it was obvious that he knew his most secret plans. "Just stand in your positions, wait for the signal, and everything will be taken care of" He smiled at them. They didn't look very reassured though.
He sighed "Look, I'm not saying that you wont get hurt, but I'll get your backs, you probably wont even have to fight" Jack and José glanced at each other. He suddenly remembered what he came here for.
"Oh, I almost forgot" Jack watched as Aces rustled on his jacket. He got out a small package, and put it on his hand, he got out another and he deposited it on José's.
He looked at his best friend, and he saw him widen his eyes as he took the package. Jack now understood why it felt so light, and yet so heavy. He knew what it was. A gun.
"Do you know how to use one of these?" Aces glanced at him, and then at his friend, who, slowly, but surely, nodded. Jack wondered when he learned that, Was it before or after he got in this mess? but he had more worrying aspects to focus on. He just looked dumbfounded at the package in his hand. Aces just nodded.
"Use it only when in great need. We don't have that much storage on bullets, and we're trying to save them" Jack just kept staring at the package, not saying a word, and Aces understood. He looked at Jose "Hernandez will teach you". With that he stood up, and left them.
Jack looked at his friend pleadingly.
"Er…Remember the cop movies we used to watch as kids?" When Jack didn't answer, he kept talking "Just hold them on your hand, like in the movies, and…" He stumbled on his words, and stared at Jack, he looked like he was on shock " Look, I don't like this as much as you do, so, just keep your head down, and it will be all right"
Jack nodded. Its not like he could do anything better.
"Besides, you heard Aces, were gonna be fine" He didn't knew if that last thing was directed at him.
But, unlike José he didn't trust Aces statement. He knew enough chess to know that they were just pawns, a diversion. There was no other reasonable explanation as to why they let them participate in a stand-off as important as this. Maybe they thought that they wouldn't shot them because they were kids. But that was pretty improbable, it was more likely that they were just a distraction.
He just stood still, waiting for the massacre that was about to take place, unable to do anything. The gun felt heavier on his hand, taking his attention.
How come something so little could cause so much damage?
It was black and modern-looking, and, although he didn't knew much about guns, he could remember some styles and calibers from the games Call of Duty, and World of Warcraft. He used to love playing those games; but he was sure that they would never be the same for him. Not after this. Holding a virtual gun was very different than holding a real one, not that he ever thought about it.
He could see some scratch marks on it, when he opened it, he noticed that there were only five bullets in it, so it had already been shot, recently. His heart fell. Was he really ready to kill someone, even in his own defense? No, he wasn't; he doubted he ever will.
And then, sirens started to blare. His heart picked up, at what was now a normal pace, and he secretly hoped that they would only pass like last time.
They didn't.
He felt José tense next to him, murmuring something that sounded a lot like a prayer in Spanish. He wondered what he was praying for. In a normal situation he would speculate a lot, thinking every possible reason, making arguments in his head, sceneries, but he was too tired and too scared to do anything but listen. Abruptly, a whistle sounded through the whole street.
"Get ready" José whispered, he noticed that his accent had thickened, just a single bit. He also realized that he had relaxed, maybe the praying had worked.
The sirens got louder, they seemed to be screaming. That didn't exactly calm his nerves. Fear cut through him like a knife. A massive headache was starting to form, not that it mattered, but it seemed to relax him slightly, to worry about something as little and normal as a headache.
The sirens got closer, and a wave of acceptance went through him. The only thing he could do was stand there, waiting for his life to end.
So he did. He waited, and waited…