Tool wiped his hands clean from ink as he stared satisfyingly at his costumer's new tattoo. On the man's shoulder was a cross. It had a Celtic design to it with a Triquetra in the middle of the cross. There was no color – just black ink with a bit of shading to give it a 3-D effect. Tool took a long drag of his pipe with a cracked smile. With each drawing he did, whether it was on skin, canvas, or anything else, he put his heart and soul into it.
This was one of his callings.
That was for sure.
Barney and Christmas was behind him making conversation as they sat and drank beers. It was a humid summer's night and everything was well. The team just finished up a job a couple of days ago down in the Amazon. Each team member came home with a good amount of money. All was happy.
"Good to see you again, Tool," his costumer said after paying.
Tool shook the man's hand. "It's was good seeing you too, brother. Come back soon."
The man laugh a little. "Probably will. Whether my wife likes it or not, tattoos are more addicting than I thought," he joked.
"Ain't that true?" Tool agreed with a laugh. The man waved good bye and then left.
Tool strolled to his chair to sit down and then leaned back. He took another drag of his pipe before taking the open bottle of beer into his hand. "Business has been pretty good today," Barney commented and Tool nodded.
"Yeah, my fingers are starting cramp up," Tool said and stretched out his fingers.
"Well, Tool, that's what happens when you get old," Christmas laughed and Barney chuckled with his friend.
Tool rolled his eyes. "Just wait 'til you get where I am. You won't be laughing then."
He took a swig of his beer.
Sofie tucked a couple of candy bars in the right pocket of her baggy, dark green jacket. She steadily focused on each step – avoiding eye contact with any other costumers. Her black painted fingernails lightly trailed on the edge of the shelves as she headed to the back of the gas station to grab a drink. With the door swung open, she grabbed a glass bottle of cream soda. She turned to head to counter. Snatching money from her faded blue jean, cut off shorts and she gave the man three bucks. "Keep the change," she told him and received a smile.
When she exited the store, she turned down an dimly lit alley. She slipped off her canvas knapsack and quickly shoved the food in her bag. Sofie pushed back her unbrushed hair back behind her ears before leaning against a warm brick building.
She stared down at the drink and then to the bag that laid next to her black Converse. She decided to slip the drink into her back.
It was better to save for later when she would need something to sip on.
Sofie licked her dry lips and took in a deep breath as her eyes were closed shut.
Everything she missed was forever gone. There was no going back to where she came from because all there was left was a burnt building, yellow police tape, and two grave stones.
There was no reason to go back.
She would tell herself that everyday as pressed on across the country.
Searching.
For what?
Sofie had no fucking clue.