Faith looked down at her watch. It was 10:30 pm, the day moved like molasses to her. She could only remember responding to one call the whole day, other than that her thoughts were on Bosco. She wanted to do something, needed to do something but she wasn't even sure where in the hell he was.
Her wishful thinking was that he decided just to stay and see Mikey for another day but that wasn't logical. He would've called in and told Swersky. In the back of her mind she knew something was going on, something that had to do with the truckers that Swersky had mentioned in roll call.
She shrugged it off, Fred's words echoing through her ears. She knew she worried too much, but that was her nature. She decided to make her way back to the station, nothing was going down on the streets and she was just wasting gas by driving around.
~~
She nodded to Sully and Davis as she made her way to her locker. The eerie silence made her want to speak so she made small talk.
"How was your day guys?" She took down her hair and ran a brush through it.
Davis scoffed. "Actually quiet for once. I think we stopped about 400 trucks though. Not my idea of action."
Sully's gravelly voice took over. "Yeah, heaven forbid we not have a shootout and people get killed."
Faith raised her eyebrows, realizing Sully was in one of his moods. "No luck on the truckers?" Of course not she thought or she would've already heard about it.
Davis shook his head no. "Nope. Let's just say I don't wanna mess with them again though."
Faith let out a small giggle. "Yeah, I hear you. I'm gonna get going. You guys call me if you hear anything about Bosco, no matter what time it is."
"Yeah, you do the same for us." Sully and Davis waved back as she exited the locker room.
~~
Bosco sat in the dark closet, unaware of the time. He could hear the faint sound of crickets in the background but nothing more. A small hint of cleaning chemicals could be smelled inside the closet, but besides that mold and dust took over. His leg continued to throb from the small bullet wound but it could've been worse. He just couldn't believe he let a situation like this happen to him.
He heard footsteps on the wooden floor and the squeak of the hinges pull open, and there stood Harley and Jackie. In Harley's right hand she held a 9 millimeter handgun and in the other a small, half loaf of wheat bread.
"You hungry?" She threw up the bread and caught it again.
Bosco was definitely hungry but he didn't want to take that. They could've poisoned it or something and he didn't want to take that chance, no matter how hungry he was.
"No thanks. I'm not hungry." He shifted his weight and noticed more dust sticking to him from the moist sweat on his body.
Jackie gave out a raspy laugh. "You aren't hungry? You haven't eaten since you've been in my custody. Are you anorexic or something?"
Harley threw the bread down on his stomach. "Are you afraid we poisoned it or something?" She rolled her eyes, knowing it crossed his mind. "Well don't worry, that's not how you are going to go. We have something more painful lined up for you. Being poisoned is too damn easy." She grabbed a chunk of the bread off of the corner and took a bite. "If I did do something to it do you think I'd be eating it?"
Bosco shrugged as he stared down at the loaf that was lying on his stomach. "You never know with white trash."
You could practically see flames come out of Harley's ears from that last comment. He couldn't help it though; she made such an easy target to do that to.
She kicked him as hard as she could in the side, sending another sharp pain through his body. He tried not to show pain but she had steal-toed boots on and it hurt like hell. He winced and watched as the bread fell down into the dust.
Harley pointed the gun down at his face. "You ready to be shot again? You know we'll do it."
He glared at her. "Maybe Jackie would, but I doubt you would. You've gotta hire people to do the dirty work. You fucking coward." He spit up at her, barely missing.
Harley cocked the hammer back, shooting him in the shoulder. Bosco could feel the warm blood gush out quickly, the heat of the bullet making him sweat.
"So I've gotta hire people eh? What the hell did I just do? You've really gotta learn to keep your damn mouth shut pretty boy. Just look at where it has got you." She pointed down at all that had happened to him. "I can't believe you are a cop, I bet you can't keep confidential shit private because of that big mouth of yours."
Bosco felt the sweat drip down his face as he held the wound. Blood continued to poor out and he tried to apply as much pressure as he could. He took two deep breaths. "So, if you are going to kill me why don't you do it? What's keeping you from it?" He kept his eyes on Harley as she leaned against the wall, you could practically see the wheels turning in her mind.
A grin spread across her face as she thought up an idea. "A little thing called torture. Gotta love it." She scratched her forehead with the barrel of the gun. "I live for torture."
He tried moving his shoulder but more pain shot through his body so he kept as still as he possibly could. He licked his lips and moved his legs. The loss of blood from his leg and now shoulder was already starting to take its toll on his body, and he grew weaker as every second passed by.
"Oh look, Maurice is about to go to la la land for awhile." He patted his cheek and he jerked away as best as he could. "Make sure you sleep with one eye open, pretty boy."
~~
Faith lay in bed after waking up from a horrible dream. She couldn't remember the details of it or who was even in it. It was one of those dreams where you just wake up in a cold sweat, knowing you endured something you wouldn't want to in real life.
She rolled over feeling Fred next to her. She searched for the phone that she found under his pillow, and accidentally, she woke him up.
He groaned and yawned. "Faith, what are you doing?" His voice was groggily and he was still half asleep.
She dialed Bosco's number and didn't answer Fred. Unfortunately his answering machine picked up. She slammed the phone down on the bed, more worry overtaking her. "Dammit! Where in the hell are you Bosco?"
Fred sat up in bed. "You gotta be kidding me Faith. You are still hung up on that? Did he not come into work today?"
She glared at him. "No, or I wouldn't be worried. Think about it Fred." She swung he legs to the side of the bed and sat on the edge, fighting the urge to go look for him. "This is giving me gray hairs, I don't even know what to do." A cry erupted from her lips.
Fred grabbed her hand but she quickly pulled it away. "Don't Fred. You haven't been supportive this whole time. You are always doubting me." She wiped her cheek with a Kleenex. "You've gotta learn that I have good instincts."
"Faith, you don't even know what's going on. Maybe he just took a vacation or something." Fred shrugged knowing she wouldn't buy that. He had no idea what to say to her though.
"Fred, just go to sleep. You don't even know." She shook her head with disgust, wishing this were all just a bad dream.
~~
Bosco woke up to more pain shooting through his body. He moved over onto his side, still very unaware of what time it was. Panic overtook him as he sat in the darkness as more memories flashed before his eyes of when he was a kid. The pain, the smell, the feeling of this situation. It all seemed too familiar to him.
He wished something would happen. He wished that they would just go through with it and kill him already or someone come and save him. He knew he didn't have much chance of getting away, but he wasn't going to give up yet. It wasn't in his nature to just roll over and die when there was still a fighting chance to live.
He sat up, his head feeling the need to explode as he tried to stand up. He grabbed the doorknob, bracing himself on it, feeling the weakness of his leg wound to its full extent now that all of his weight was applied to it. He turned the knob but of course it was locked. They must've had it locked from the outside, rigged for all the men they had before him. He searched around the dark closet in search of anything he could use to open the lock.
He moved his hands around on the floor and across shelves, hoping in the back of his head that he could actually find something small enough and pointy enough to get through the keyhole. It was the last shred of hope he had, to find something to get him out of this cramped space, and out of the diner for good.
He turned in circles, his head spinning from panic that overtook his body. All he could find were sponges, mops and brooms, and tons of cleaning equipment. He was tempted to just bust the door down, but the women were definitely sitting on the other side, and they'd greet him with a gun to the face.
He grabbed his shoulder that continued to throb with pain as his free hand continued to search the shelves that he could barely see in the darkness around him. He found a toolbox on a bottom shelf and quickly opened it, a Phillip's screwdriver at the top of it. He grabbed it in one swift move and brought it to eye level, looking at the tool as if it were a million dollars. It was in fact that important to him right now, the best thing he had seen in quite some time.
He moved his sore body towards the door and put the screwdriver up to the keyhole but stopped himself. If he opened up the door they'd be there, ready to kill him on the spot. He needed to know for sure if they were out there or not so he sat down, and decided to make some noise. He knocked over a mop and waited to see if they would come butt their nose in.
No sound came from the other side of the door. He moved another mop across the shelf, this time making much louder racket but again, no reaction from anything. He slowly stood up. Now or never he thought, and he picked at the lock, working the door open.
He looked around the dark diner, not seeing a single soul around him. He put the screwdriver in his pants pocket, for safe keeping just in case he needed it as some sort of weapon or something. He noticed their semis parked out in the parking lot, and he just knew they were asleep in the back area of it.
His breathing grew heavy as he walked out the front door of the diner, hoping none of them were awake at the moment.
Harley turned over on her small cot that was placed in her sleeping quarter of her big rig, her instincts coming into play. She yawned and noticed her TV was on, so she quickly grabbed the remote and hit the power button, hearing the silence of the secluded area around them. More rain began to fall and she rolled over, ignoring every instinct that was screaming at her.
Her thoughts told her to get up and go look outside but she couldn't find the energy to even peal herself from the warm bed and the blankets that surrounded her.
Bosco slowly walked, feeling the late night rainfall, soaking his clothes and hair. He heard rocks and sticks crackle under his boots and he stopped in his tracks, hoping no one would hear. He slowly averted his eyes to the rigs that were present, hoping no lights would flash on.
Harley sat up in bed, it was almost as if she had ears like a dog. She quickly grabbed a flashlight and flashed it through the window, noticing a shadow across the parking lot of the diner. She put on a sweater, opened the passenger door and hopped out, a .22 caliber in her sweater pocket. She peaked around the side of the truck and saw Bosco, making his way through some trees, his limp heavy and one of his hands applied to his shoulder.
She grinned an evil grin and exhaled deeply, beginning her way towards him. She quickened her pace, not even worried if he'd hear her or not.
He heard the footsteps behind him, but he didn't even bother to look as he tried to break out into a run, but his leg didn't agree with him. Harley easily caught up, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him to the ground.
His vision blurred for a few seconds, but the clear view of Harley showed over him. She held the gun right in his face, a toothy grin showing as she cocked the hammer back on the gun.
"You just don't give up do you little Maurice?" She squatted beside him, her hand slightly shaking from holding up the weapon.
Bosco could feel the screwdriver in his pocket. His first reaction was to reach for it but he played it cool at first, trying to keep her attention to his face and not down at his hands. He could feel the rain pick up more and the mud splatter up into his hair and all over his already dirty clothes.
"You just want your death to be the worst don't you? The more you fuck up like this the more we add onto your torture." She shook her head as she shifted her weight, also switching the gun from her right hand to her left hand.
Bosco thought now was the opportune time to reach for the tool. He moved as quickly as he could, jabbing the screwdriver into the side of her leg as hard as he could, causing her to fall sideways into a huge mud puddle. The night air filled with cries erupting from her lips. Bosco looked down, noticing the blood gushing from her calf. He quickly pulled the screwdriver out, huge drops of blood dripping off of it.
He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and noticed Jackie standing over him, a deer rifle now pointed at the back of his head.
She wiped some water from her brow and began to speak, noticing how much pain her partner was in. "I would shoot you in the head Maurice, but that would be too easy on you. Instead.." She trailed off as she walked in front of him, grabbing the screwdriver out of his hand. "Instead I'm going to jab this in you, just so you know how it feels."
He could feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest as she ran the tool over his face and down his neck. "Where do you want it first?"
He grabbed some mud from under his leg and slung it towards her face as fast as he could, causing her to drop the screwdriver, but she quickly picked it up again before he could even attempt to gain it back. He knew she was pissed, hell he would be too if someone slung mud in his eyes.
"You just made me decide for you." She quickly lunged at him, stabbing his side, right under his ribs. He felt the sting immediately, and the warmth of his blood soak through his already saturated shirt. The pain was too much and he crawled into a fetal position, his body not cooperating with what his mind told him to do.
Jackie quickly grabbed the shotgun once more and cocked back the hammer. Bosco was helpless; there was nothing more he could do. All he did do was stare down the long barrel, as two gunshots echoed throughout the secluded section of the highway.
Her wishful thinking was that he decided just to stay and see Mikey for another day but that wasn't logical. He would've called in and told Swersky. In the back of her mind she knew something was going on, something that had to do with the truckers that Swersky had mentioned in roll call.
She shrugged it off, Fred's words echoing through her ears. She knew she worried too much, but that was her nature. She decided to make her way back to the station, nothing was going down on the streets and she was just wasting gas by driving around.
~~
She nodded to Sully and Davis as she made her way to her locker. The eerie silence made her want to speak so she made small talk.
"How was your day guys?" She took down her hair and ran a brush through it.
Davis scoffed. "Actually quiet for once. I think we stopped about 400 trucks though. Not my idea of action."
Sully's gravelly voice took over. "Yeah, heaven forbid we not have a shootout and people get killed."
Faith raised her eyebrows, realizing Sully was in one of his moods. "No luck on the truckers?" Of course not she thought or she would've already heard about it.
Davis shook his head no. "Nope. Let's just say I don't wanna mess with them again though."
Faith let out a small giggle. "Yeah, I hear you. I'm gonna get going. You guys call me if you hear anything about Bosco, no matter what time it is."
"Yeah, you do the same for us." Sully and Davis waved back as she exited the locker room.
~~
Bosco sat in the dark closet, unaware of the time. He could hear the faint sound of crickets in the background but nothing more. A small hint of cleaning chemicals could be smelled inside the closet, but besides that mold and dust took over. His leg continued to throb from the small bullet wound but it could've been worse. He just couldn't believe he let a situation like this happen to him.
He heard footsteps on the wooden floor and the squeak of the hinges pull open, and there stood Harley and Jackie. In Harley's right hand she held a 9 millimeter handgun and in the other a small, half loaf of wheat bread.
"You hungry?" She threw up the bread and caught it again.
Bosco was definitely hungry but he didn't want to take that. They could've poisoned it or something and he didn't want to take that chance, no matter how hungry he was.
"No thanks. I'm not hungry." He shifted his weight and noticed more dust sticking to him from the moist sweat on his body.
Jackie gave out a raspy laugh. "You aren't hungry? You haven't eaten since you've been in my custody. Are you anorexic or something?"
Harley threw the bread down on his stomach. "Are you afraid we poisoned it or something?" She rolled her eyes, knowing it crossed his mind. "Well don't worry, that's not how you are going to go. We have something more painful lined up for you. Being poisoned is too damn easy." She grabbed a chunk of the bread off of the corner and took a bite. "If I did do something to it do you think I'd be eating it?"
Bosco shrugged as he stared down at the loaf that was lying on his stomach. "You never know with white trash."
You could practically see flames come out of Harley's ears from that last comment. He couldn't help it though; she made such an easy target to do that to.
She kicked him as hard as she could in the side, sending another sharp pain through his body. He tried not to show pain but she had steal-toed boots on and it hurt like hell. He winced and watched as the bread fell down into the dust.
Harley pointed the gun down at his face. "You ready to be shot again? You know we'll do it."
He glared at her. "Maybe Jackie would, but I doubt you would. You've gotta hire people to do the dirty work. You fucking coward." He spit up at her, barely missing.
Harley cocked the hammer back, shooting him in the shoulder. Bosco could feel the warm blood gush out quickly, the heat of the bullet making him sweat.
"So I've gotta hire people eh? What the hell did I just do? You've really gotta learn to keep your damn mouth shut pretty boy. Just look at where it has got you." She pointed down at all that had happened to him. "I can't believe you are a cop, I bet you can't keep confidential shit private because of that big mouth of yours."
Bosco felt the sweat drip down his face as he held the wound. Blood continued to poor out and he tried to apply as much pressure as he could. He took two deep breaths. "So, if you are going to kill me why don't you do it? What's keeping you from it?" He kept his eyes on Harley as she leaned against the wall, you could practically see the wheels turning in her mind.
A grin spread across her face as she thought up an idea. "A little thing called torture. Gotta love it." She scratched her forehead with the barrel of the gun. "I live for torture."
He tried moving his shoulder but more pain shot through his body so he kept as still as he possibly could. He licked his lips and moved his legs. The loss of blood from his leg and now shoulder was already starting to take its toll on his body, and he grew weaker as every second passed by.
"Oh look, Maurice is about to go to la la land for awhile." He patted his cheek and he jerked away as best as he could. "Make sure you sleep with one eye open, pretty boy."
~~
Faith lay in bed after waking up from a horrible dream. She couldn't remember the details of it or who was even in it. It was one of those dreams where you just wake up in a cold sweat, knowing you endured something you wouldn't want to in real life.
She rolled over feeling Fred next to her. She searched for the phone that she found under his pillow, and accidentally, she woke him up.
He groaned and yawned. "Faith, what are you doing?" His voice was groggily and he was still half asleep.
She dialed Bosco's number and didn't answer Fred. Unfortunately his answering machine picked up. She slammed the phone down on the bed, more worry overtaking her. "Dammit! Where in the hell are you Bosco?"
Fred sat up in bed. "You gotta be kidding me Faith. You are still hung up on that? Did he not come into work today?"
She glared at him. "No, or I wouldn't be worried. Think about it Fred." She swung he legs to the side of the bed and sat on the edge, fighting the urge to go look for him. "This is giving me gray hairs, I don't even know what to do." A cry erupted from her lips.
Fred grabbed her hand but she quickly pulled it away. "Don't Fred. You haven't been supportive this whole time. You are always doubting me." She wiped her cheek with a Kleenex. "You've gotta learn that I have good instincts."
"Faith, you don't even know what's going on. Maybe he just took a vacation or something." Fred shrugged knowing she wouldn't buy that. He had no idea what to say to her though.
"Fred, just go to sleep. You don't even know." She shook her head with disgust, wishing this were all just a bad dream.
~~
Bosco woke up to more pain shooting through his body. He moved over onto his side, still very unaware of what time it was. Panic overtook him as he sat in the darkness as more memories flashed before his eyes of when he was a kid. The pain, the smell, the feeling of this situation. It all seemed too familiar to him.
He wished something would happen. He wished that they would just go through with it and kill him already or someone come and save him. He knew he didn't have much chance of getting away, but he wasn't going to give up yet. It wasn't in his nature to just roll over and die when there was still a fighting chance to live.
He sat up, his head feeling the need to explode as he tried to stand up. He grabbed the doorknob, bracing himself on it, feeling the weakness of his leg wound to its full extent now that all of his weight was applied to it. He turned the knob but of course it was locked. They must've had it locked from the outside, rigged for all the men they had before him. He searched around the dark closet in search of anything he could use to open the lock.
He moved his hands around on the floor and across shelves, hoping in the back of his head that he could actually find something small enough and pointy enough to get through the keyhole. It was the last shred of hope he had, to find something to get him out of this cramped space, and out of the diner for good.
He turned in circles, his head spinning from panic that overtook his body. All he could find were sponges, mops and brooms, and tons of cleaning equipment. He was tempted to just bust the door down, but the women were definitely sitting on the other side, and they'd greet him with a gun to the face.
He grabbed his shoulder that continued to throb with pain as his free hand continued to search the shelves that he could barely see in the darkness around him. He found a toolbox on a bottom shelf and quickly opened it, a Phillip's screwdriver at the top of it. He grabbed it in one swift move and brought it to eye level, looking at the tool as if it were a million dollars. It was in fact that important to him right now, the best thing he had seen in quite some time.
He moved his sore body towards the door and put the screwdriver up to the keyhole but stopped himself. If he opened up the door they'd be there, ready to kill him on the spot. He needed to know for sure if they were out there or not so he sat down, and decided to make some noise. He knocked over a mop and waited to see if they would come butt their nose in.
No sound came from the other side of the door. He moved another mop across the shelf, this time making much louder racket but again, no reaction from anything. He slowly stood up. Now or never he thought, and he picked at the lock, working the door open.
He looked around the dark diner, not seeing a single soul around him. He put the screwdriver in his pants pocket, for safe keeping just in case he needed it as some sort of weapon or something. He noticed their semis parked out in the parking lot, and he just knew they were asleep in the back area of it.
His breathing grew heavy as he walked out the front door of the diner, hoping none of them were awake at the moment.
Harley turned over on her small cot that was placed in her sleeping quarter of her big rig, her instincts coming into play. She yawned and noticed her TV was on, so she quickly grabbed the remote and hit the power button, hearing the silence of the secluded area around them. More rain began to fall and she rolled over, ignoring every instinct that was screaming at her.
Her thoughts told her to get up and go look outside but she couldn't find the energy to even peal herself from the warm bed and the blankets that surrounded her.
Bosco slowly walked, feeling the late night rainfall, soaking his clothes and hair. He heard rocks and sticks crackle under his boots and he stopped in his tracks, hoping no one would hear. He slowly averted his eyes to the rigs that were present, hoping no lights would flash on.
Harley sat up in bed, it was almost as if she had ears like a dog. She quickly grabbed a flashlight and flashed it through the window, noticing a shadow across the parking lot of the diner. She put on a sweater, opened the passenger door and hopped out, a .22 caliber in her sweater pocket. She peaked around the side of the truck and saw Bosco, making his way through some trees, his limp heavy and one of his hands applied to his shoulder.
She grinned an evil grin and exhaled deeply, beginning her way towards him. She quickened her pace, not even worried if he'd hear her or not.
He heard the footsteps behind him, but he didn't even bother to look as he tried to break out into a run, but his leg didn't agree with him. Harley easily caught up, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him to the ground.
His vision blurred for a few seconds, but the clear view of Harley showed over him. She held the gun right in his face, a toothy grin showing as she cocked the hammer back on the gun.
"You just don't give up do you little Maurice?" She squatted beside him, her hand slightly shaking from holding up the weapon.
Bosco could feel the screwdriver in his pocket. His first reaction was to reach for it but he played it cool at first, trying to keep her attention to his face and not down at his hands. He could feel the rain pick up more and the mud splatter up into his hair and all over his already dirty clothes.
"You just want your death to be the worst don't you? The more you fuck up like this the more we add onto your torture." She shook her head as she shifted her weight, also switching the gun from her right hand to her left hand.
Bosco thought now was the opportune time to reach for the tool. He moved as quickly as he could, jabbing the screwdriver into the side of her leg as hard as he could, causing her to fall sideways into a huge mud puddle. The night air filled with cries erupting from her lips. Bosco looked down, noticing the blood gushing from her calf. He quickly pulled the screwdriver out, huge drops of blood dripping off of it.
He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and noticed Jackie standing over him, a deer rifle now pointed at the back of his head.
She wiped some water from her brow and began to speak, noticing how much pain her partner was in. "I would shoot you in the head Maurice, but that would be too easy on you. Instead.." She trailed off as she walked in front of him, grabbing the screwdriver out of his hand. "Instead I'm going to jab this in you, just so you know how it feels."
He could feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest as she ran the tool over his face and down his neck. "Where do you want it first?"
He grabbed some mud from under his leg and slung it towards her face as fast as he could, causing her to drop the screwdriver, but she quickly picked it up again before he could even attempt to gain it back. He knew she was pissed, hell he would be too if someone slung mud in his eyes.
"You just made me decide for you." She quickly lunged at him, stabbing his side, right under his ribs. He felt the sting immediately, and the warmth of his blood soak through his already saturated shirt. The pain was too much and he crawled into a fetal position, his body not cooperating with what his mind told him to do.
Jackie quickly grabbed the shotgun once more and cocked back the hammer. Bosco was helpless; there was nothing more he could do. All he did do was stare down the long barrel, as two gunshots echoed throughout the secluded section of the highway.