A Couple Minutes Later

I parked the car in a deserted parking lot and started walking down the streets of downtown Coldwater. Id calmed down since I kicked Rixon out my car, which I felt kind of bad about. Sure he'd said some hurtful stuff but he was only trying help me.

But I didn't need help. Help is for people who have problems. I didn't have a problem, I had a solution. The problem was that Nora was dead and I couldn't be with her; The solution was the brief appearances I could conjure up by doing things she didn't approve of. And I'd rather face her complete and utter disappointment than nothing at all.

I stopped suddenly, feeling a wave of fatigue slump my shoulders. After dealing with Rixon and thinking about Nora I was already emotionally spent.

Ignoring the anguish that was seeping into my chest ,I thought my plan through one more time before moving into action. I walked over to this dilapidated, run-down building, and leaned my back against it. I was bait. One, guy standing alone in the dark attracted muggers and other criminals just like a moth to a flame. And almost as if cued they arrived., six of them, all dressed in raggedy biker clothes and metal chains. Each of them looked to be in their mid-twenties, maybe a few teens in their midst.

There was one who stood slightly in front, and in the center of the group. He had a smug, proud look on his face which made the long scar on his face crinkle in the limited light.

He was obviously the leader I decided.

Scar-face took a step toward me, his entire stance radiating a superiority I know I've given off before.

"Well what do we have here?" He asked in a mocking tone. He took a few steps until he was right in my face.

"A prep-school dropout perhaps?" Huh. Well that was original, at least.

I laughed, but not in a way that made it look like it was funny, in a way to warn him that he made a mistake.

"That's funny coming from the rejected cast of West Side Story." I retorted.

They all froze for a second, probably in shock at my nonchalance in their presence.

The leader recovered quickly though the blood rushing to his face in anger. He reached to his waistband to pull out his .357 Magnum revolver.

Let the games begin.