Shadowwolf:  Hey, I'm back with chapter 7!  Writing is just getting addicting now!  Whew…thanks to all who read and reviewed!

Brad:  Do we live, or are you going to kill me again?

Shadowwolf:  We'll see…muahahahahahaha!

Brad:  O.o

Shadowwolf:  I know, that was a mild laugh for me.  Sad, huh?  How 'bout this?  MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

Brad:  o.o Better.

Shadowwolf:  Yep.  Anyway, disclaimer:  I don't own it, in any way, shape, or form.  Don't sue.  Please enjoy!

CONFUSION OF THE HEART AND MIND CH.7,

PROBLEMS WITH PAYMENT (PART II)

            "Take it easy Wayne." Brad slowly lifted his hand up to show he had no weapon.  "What're you doing here?" Naomi stood frozen staring down the barrel of Wayne's gun.

            "Well, I was here to give you your 'second payment.'  But apparently you got wise on how things work around here, huh?"
            "You mean about the killing thing?"

            "Yeah," he kicked a briefcase over to Brad, "so, if you're so smart about it, what's in there?" Brad stared down at the black piece of luggage.  It was fairly nice, with a few scuffmarks here and there.

            "Either a bomb of some kind, or nothing and you just plan to shoot me."

            "The latter would be correct.  There's no way I'd deliver it personally if it were a bomb.  Good job, you learned something.  So, like I asked before, who's first?  You, or the broad?" Naomi didn't move.  She heard the words they spoke, but couldn't move.  She'd never had fear like this before.  Of course, a lot had happened in the past week.

            "Wayne, do you really have to kill every member that quits?" Brad was just stalling while he tried to think of a way out.

            "Yes, that stupid Eric guy almost had our gang completely wiped out by the cops.  What a massacre that was." Naomi had the feeling back in her body.

            "A massacre of people that probably deserved everything they got," Naomi spat.  The look Brad gave her next said it all; "Why?"

            "Fine, looks like the broad goes first," he lifted his gun up and cocked it.

            "I'm not a dumb broad you jerk.  Learn some respect for women, would ya, cockroach?" she began to step towards him, Brad holding the back of her shirt.

            "Naomi, don't," he whispered.  "Too bad you're so stupid!" he shouted at the man.

            "What was that?" he turned to Brad.

            "Stupid, you're stupid.  If you shoot her first, it'll give me plenty of time to run away.  What an idiot you—" without warning, as it was meant to be, Naomi dove on Wayne, and the gun fired.

            "NO!" Brad shouted and dove on the floor.  Wayne pushed a writhing Naomi to the floor and took aim for Brad, who quickly dove on him and wrapped his hands around his throat.  "You stupid son of—" a sound of agony came from Naomi.  Brad carefully stood up, bent to keep his hands on Wayne's neck.  In a swift motion, he replaced his hands with his right foot.  Gagging and choking noises came from Wayne.  Brad kicked him over, unconscious, and picked up Naomi.  Her torso was covered in blood.  Don't die on me!  He looked at the Command Wolf.  "Give me a hand, would ya?"

            The Wolf came to life, and lowered its head.  Brad set Naomi into the back seat and took the controls.  He headed straight to the hospital.

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            Brad was given strange looks as he pushed through people to the emergency room.  This was it, they'd take him in here and now.  No use in trying to get away.

            "Excuse me!  You have to get her in now!" a nurse looked in horror at Naomi, wrapped in part of Brad's vest.  Despite his efforts to slow bleeding, she'd lost a lot of the precious fluid.  Other nurses and a couple of doctors answered the nurse's calls for help.  They put Naomi on a gurney and headed for the operating table.  A security guard came up to Brad.

            "Sir, you're under arrest for Zoid theft, fraud, and murder," Brad gave his wrists to the waiting jaws of the handcuffs, "anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

            "Yeah, can we just skip this whole part?" Brad took one last look at the emergency room doors before walking out to the police Gojulas.

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            "Sir," the officer explained to the judge, "this man is charged with Zoid theft, fraud, and first degree murder.  What would the best sentencing be?"

            "Zoid theft.  How many has he stolen, according to police records?"

            "Twenty-two, sir." Brad stood in orange and handcuffs next to the officer.

            "Fraud?"

            "The gang he belonged to, the Phoenix, started producing counterfeit money a few months ago."

            "And murder?"

            "The death of a seven year old child, caught in the crossfire." The judge sighed.

            "Well…not easy to decide, but, make the minimum life in prison.  I want the death penalty available for this one."

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            Brad was thrown unceremoniously into his cell.  He looked around his permanent, or temporary, home.  The walls were cleaner than he'd expected them to be.  The toilet was obviously very old, with a browning tint in and outside.  Yuck…  His bed had two bunks, and he wondered if he'd be sharing this 'room' with someone.

            After getting over the shock of the changes, he began to worry about Naomi.  Was she okay?  Alive even?  Alive.  Hmm, if we both end up dead, this will be a bigger waste of time than I thought before.  Life... to...the death penalty.  I only want to live if Naomi's alive.  He remembered the night the child of seven died.

            "Hurry up Brad!" Wayne barked at him.  He was merely feet behind him, as they ducked through a Zoid hangar, finding their way to a magnificent find.  An ancient red Blade Liger was supposed to be hidden somewhere in this hangar.  It would be worth millions.  They had to find it.

            "Stop!" an old man called behind them.  He owned the hangar, and had now found his gun.  Shots came at Brad, Wayne, and their other partner, Mike.  The three ducked in and out of Zoids' legs.  Bullets ricocheted everywhere.  Somehow, a bullet got to Mike, killing him instantly.  Brad and Mike were extremely close.  This man had to be stopped.  Ducking behind a Raynos's foot, he aimed carefully at the man's legs.  He cocked the gun.  A small girl walked in and toward her father.  Brad fired.  The girl was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.  The bullet hit her square in the chest.  Brad instinctively tried to pull the gun down, but it was far too late.  She lay motionless in a puddle of blood on the floor.  Her father dropped the gun and picked up his daughter.  His eyes came up and glared with pure hatred at Brad.  He instantly turned, leaned against the giant claws, and sunk to the floor.  He took the bullets out and threw them across the room.  That was it.  The moment Brad decided to quit.

            Tears streaked down Brad's face.  Hearing footsteps, he wiped them off.  Being seen crying in prison was definitely not something you wanted to do.  A guard came up to the bars, and Brad went up to greet him.

            "Brad Hunter, you have been selected for the death penalty at 7:00p.m. on January 24, 2003.  Is there anyone you wish to get in contact with now?" the man had a kind of monotonous tone to his voice.

            "Yeah, can I call the hospital?"

            "Sure," he motioned to a man down the hall, who brought a phone to Brad.  The guard left, but he other man stayed behind to listen to the conversation.  Brad dialed the hospital.

            "Romeo City Hospital, emergency department, hello?"

            "Hi, I brought in a young woman earlier, she went into the ER.  I was wondering if you could tell me how she's doing."

            "Name?"

"Naomi Fluegel."

"What's your relation?"

            "Uh, well, boyfriend." Brad slapped his forehead.  If Naomi was alive, she'd kill him for that comment.

            "I'll be right back Mr.?

            "Hunter.  Brad Hunter."

            "Mr. Hunter." She put him on hold to get information.  After two minutes of elevator style music, she came back on.

            "Mr. Hunter?"

            "Yes."

            "Miss Fluegel is in the recovery room currently.  She's definitely better than she was, but her chances of living are at about 48% now."

            "Thanks," Brad sighed in relief, she wasn't dead, yet.  "Is there any way I could talk to her?"

            "She should wake up in a few days.  She shouldn't talk, but you could write her a letter."

            "Thanks, I'll do that," what else do I have to do?  "I appreciate the help."

            "Have a good evening sir."

            "You too." He hung up the phone and returned it to the 'phone man.'

            "Thanks."

            "No problem." He walked on, no doubt, Brad thought, to the next poor inmate.

What day was it anyway?  He'd die on the 24th.  Today was…he checked a small picture less calendar on the wall.  The days were crossed off to the 20th.  Today was the 20th of January.  Brad had four days to live.

Shadowwolf:  OOH! Suspense!  HAHAHA!  I love being evil…

Brad:  NOT AGAIN!

Shadowwolf:  What? *innocent look*

Brad:  You're going to kill me again!

Shadowwolf:  Am I?  Are you sure?

Brad:  Well, no…HEY!  Don't get my hopes up, you'll kill me again.

Shadowwolf:  Maybe not, maybe not, maaaaaybe not.  (Sorry, too much short story reading in English…) Hope you all enjoyed!  Next chapter up soon!  Thanks for reading!