5
They drove along the road for a while. They didn't know what they were going to do. Oliver suggested Richard should go back home and burn the house. If he did that, he could burn away every shred of existence his family has, while blaming it on arson. He could rent a hotel room, and then plan the burning. But that might give off the wrong idea, since they don't know Richard is with him. He did knew that they could come out of nowhere and see them together, and identify him, and kill them both, along with his family.
Oliver was falling down the rails of reality and coming up the stairs of paranoia.
"Richard, you think if they see you, they will kill you?" he asked.
"What kind of question is that?"
"I know, but I thought who I was working with kept my identity a secret. Who knows if he let out my name, and will think wrong and kill me, you know. Hell, he could have killed my family. Have is the key word. I did it so they wouldn't suffer—Penny did, but not by much."
Reminding Richard of Penny's mutilated corpse gave him nausea, with the same feeling he had back at the house, but he couldn't do it. He was driving. He felt Oliver might get drastic and kill them both maybe.
He kept on driving; he now was about to cross the intersection. He looked around and saw that no cars were around, not even ones that were parked along the sidewalks. He would have expected something by now.
He stood there quiet, until the light turned green.
It changed to green.
Richard drove up front and—
A black truck from the right—Richard didn't even take the few seconds to look around—rammed into their truck. They stopped, while Richard felt his head bash against the wheel, but not hard enough to let the airbags out. Oliver's did; but when his did pop, so did Richard's.
They were a bit out for a while.
Richard woke up first from all of this. He looked at the side of his rearview mirror and saw a crack. Richard looked over Oliver; he was now passed out. It could have been from the crash, or even before and just fainted. He didn't know. All he knew was that he was out.
Richard saw the gun from when they stopped the first tine—the one that got him into this—in Oliver's hand. He grabbed it, and was going to get out. The door was jammed. Richard tried kicking it—once, twice, and then it opened.
The door fell down on the side of the road.
Richard looked at the mirror again; he saw some blood streaming down his cheek. He didn't care. All he wanted to do was try—try, at least—to fight for him and Oliver. He did a lot of stupid things over the years, but this could be the finale. This could be the one that topped it all off. He didn't care if he lived or died. He was done with all of it. He was done with himself, and all the trouble he's gotten into.
He came out of the car and pointed the gun at the car.
"I don't know how to use, but I sure as hell can do some damage with it."
The door opened, both of them from the front.
Richard went back, showing that they did in fact intimidate him.
"I'm warning you," he yelled.
"Relax, Mr. Watterson," the man said.
"What—?"
"Don't worry," he said. "I mean you no harm."
"No? Sure as hell seems like you do mean harm, buddy."
"It wasn't you I'm after," he said. "You have Oliver Fitzgerald. And he managed to trick you."
"What do you mean?" he asked. He didn't get the answer.
"Is Oliver in there?" he asked.
"What's it to you?" he said.
The man who was driving was heading for Oliver's seat.
Richard pointed the gun at him.
"I mean it!"
"He won't harm him, if that's what you want," he said.
"Prove it," he said. "Come here and empty your weapons." That was a line Richard always wanted to use, but had no enjoyment in it now.
He did, and Richard frisked him. He pulled out two guns from the side pocket, and one—a hidden weapon—by his left leg. He let him go, but now using two guns—one that was used to hide by his leg—at both men.
The man checked up at the car, and he saw Oliver, still unconscious.
He yelled out at the man.
"He's still breathing," he told the man.
"What do you want?" Richard asked.
"We want to finish this."
"Why? What did he do?" he asked, almost frantically.
"Please, Richard, don't make this any harder than it already is. We need to do this."
Richard stood there silent, still with both guns aiming at both men.
Then, Oliver woke up, coughing up some of the broken glass that was on his face.
He walked over to Richard, stumbling with his right leg.
"Don't listen to them," Oliver yelled out.
"Why?" he asked. "You gave me a hell of a lot trouble."
"They're lying. Please, don't let them kill me."
"Then tell me what you did," Richard asked Oliver.
"He won't tell you," the man intervened. "Give me the gun, and I'll tell you."
"NO! Don't do it, Richard."
Richard thought about this, but he didn't know what to do.
He put both guns by his waist.
"If you got guns, you shoot him," he said.
"All right," he said, shrugging it off. He immediately pulled out a gun, and shot Oliver in the chest. Richard stood there in shock. He couldn't believe what was happening. He shot him again and again.
Oliver fell down on his knees, mouthing the words to Richard "Forgive me," and fell down on the hard concrete street. His blood began to flow down, like having a bucket filled with water and dumping it out on the street.
Richard looked at the man.
There was silence for a while.
"I'm sorry, Richard. For all of this that has happened," he said.
"How do you know my name, anyway?" he asked, realizing he should have asked this first. But the pressure was gone now, almost as if he was free.
"He gave it away," he said. "You were lied to."
"How?" he asked, feeling nervous now.
"We got Oliver back two weeks ago. We asked him who his boss was. He panicked and said your name. Because of this, we convinced Nicole to get a divorce. She did and we tried to lure you back at her grandmother's house so we can kill you. There was an accident. Bullets were shot, people were killed. Some men broke in, Oliver's men, and killed them. Oliver never had a boss. Instead, he invented one up to get us to believe there was someone higher and we could get that man. He lied to us, and we threaten to do the same to his family from what he did to your family. The son of a bitch took that literally and killed his family himself. He tried to get you along since most of his guys couldn't trust him. You were the man he could count on since you didn't know about what happened. And now this has led to all of this. We could kill you right on the sight…But we won't. You already suffered enough, and the police won't believe you, regardless. We're leaving you this car, which is untraceable, and to give you a moment of peace. After that, dump it in Elmore Lake. We have some men that can help discard it."
"They're not dead," he said, almost in denial.
The man almost drew a tear, walking close to him.
"I had a family. I know how it feels. I didn't think this would happen again, especially to anyone."
"I don't know what to say," Richard said, almost sounding dead.
"Take this chance. This is truly a one-in-a-million chance, Richard."
He walked away, with the man, where another truck—the same as theirs—picked them up, and they drove off.
Richard stood there in complete silence. He kept on staring at the body of Oliver.
He walked to the car, as instructed, and looked around in it. Nobody was in either of the seats. He opened the back door from the front, and walked slowly.
He grabbed the hatch and waited for a bit.
After a while, he then pushed it up…
He fell down on his knees. He saw them, all of them. He couldn't describe what he saw…just cry. His tears fell down on the blood that was already leaking down.
That was it…
He heard a car coming…
All he did was cry…nothing more.
THE END
Hello, this is EvelioandZgroup. I'm here to talk about fan fiction, my stories to be exact. I notice how some of them had potential, and to be fair I'm interested in fixing them up. Also, for those of you who like to go Grammar Nazi on me and say I should put this on a forum or something, I will tell you this: That is ass-shit. Nobody goes to forums and there are too many messages like these here and you're going to pick on me? Seriously, fuck off.
Anyway, back to the point.
I want you guys to tell me which one of my stories would you like to see here being remade into a better version, and complete. That's right. The one story you pick will be finished and be posted up daily until the final chapter. Also, for those who want a sequel to "The Circle" or "I Killed Penny Fitzgerald" is out of the question. I mean, come on, there can't be a sequel. However, you can request either to be remade. Except, of course, "The Circle" because it's already remade, and you can just request me to finish it instead.
So, if I made a stort you had the tiniest bit of interest but never got around to it, you're now in luck. Choose by review, and be do this. Not for me, but for me to give something back to fan fiction. Vote if you can.
P.S. If someone knows lexboss, tell her I can't message her. Apparantly, I can't message anyone or get messages. I'm assuming on a limb that she probably send messages.
P.S.S. No requesting "The Love" either. I'm the beta, or used to be.
P.S.S.S. The Love is not dead.
Please vote and read a story for the summer!
P.S.S.S.S. For TD, who's got the last laugh now?
~ EvelioandZgroup