Turns out that Ethan was in deep shit. How deep was the hole he had dug himself in, you ask? Well, I thought it was pretty deep, because there were around twenty kilos of synthcoke hidden away in the trunk of this shitty-ass car. He had somehow stolen the drugs from a small nomad gang called the Chicos Mortales, otherwise known as the Deadly Boys.

An up-and-coming nomad gang solely for those from Sourth America, who should be feeling more than a little butthurt that twenty kilos of drugs had disappeared. The five cars that had briefly given chase, were a part of that gang. Since, they were up-and-coming, they didn't have a lot of members, and thankfully, most of them lacked any top-tier cyberware. However, their leader was apparently all cybered up, so to the meat-bag that I was, he was my worst nightmare at the moment.

Despite the guy being a no-name scrub in the bigger picture. And as the cherry on top of this shitty situation, the car that we were driving would have probably been described to every member of the Chico Mortales- their cybered-up boss definitely ordered for the deaths of anyone near the drugs.

So, yeah, Ethan was had dug a rather deep hole for himself, and so that meant that I was standing in the dirt with him. It had been around ten minutes since we had gotten away from the gangers, and that had been due to luck, rather than straight skill. I didn't think I could replicate that level of mayhem once more, even if I tried. But yet, I still sat in the passenger seat, my arm stinging, and my heart beating as fast as the car, the fear of death still fresh.

I couldn't really open the door and make a quick getaway. I was more likely to end up with a couple broken bones, and maybe a broken neck if I jumped out of the car. Ethan looked at me, I could feel how his eyes gauged me, before he let out a heavy sigh. Silence had reigned supreme since he had explained the situation, and it looked like he was going to break it.

"Look, kid. I know it sounds really bad, but from here onwards, it's smooth sailing. We'll drop off the synthcoke to my fixer, and I'll be fifteen thousand richer. Yeah, I know that look, kid. I can offer you a quarter of that for your troubles, and a place to rest your head until you find a place in NC. You just gotta have my back for this deal. You in?" My first reaction was to tell him to fuck off and drop me off. However, that didn't look like an option at the moment. The world beyond the car was pitch black, and I had no clue what laid beyond the darkness. Even if I wanted no part of this shitshow, I was already in far too deep to. A couple thousand dollars and a place to crash would do much to ease my mind.

If you had asked me twenty minutes ago what I wanted, I would have told you that I wanted to go home to eat my mother's cooking. Now? after everything that has happened. I wanted to not die. The simplest way to do that was get me some cyberware. If I could be a little faster, and little stronger, than I would already be walking the path that gave me the best odds of survival.

I had almost died today. I wonder if I'll live to see next week? No, no- keep you mind out of the gutter Elijah.

"Put that pedal to the metal, old man."

"I'm only in my forties, kid. I wouldn't call that old."

Yeah, but you look fucking fifty-five. My guy, use some moisturiser and clean your teeth. It'll do you the world of good.

We had no trouble from the Chico Mortales, save for those five cars from earlier. Ethan had pushed his shitty station wagon to the limit, and we had managed to avoid any more clashes with them. If I was a bit more naïve, I would have said that were lucky, but it was probably that they were gathering in the badlands around Night City, ready to reclaim what was once theirs. I had told Ethan as much, but he had merely waved his hand nonchalantly, saying nothing but 'it'll be fine' or 'don't worry about it'.

And yet, I still worry. What if we turn a corner and a bunch of cars block our path?

I didn't understand what he meant until we turn left onto a run-down dirt road, leaving the highway and heading into the sparse plains around us. Potholes were littered everywhere among this road, so it felt like I was riding the cheapest roller coaster ever made. They kept driving until they made it to a t-intersection, where Ethan put the car in park and lit up a cigarette.

Then we waited.

After everything that happened today, just sitting around and waiting for shit to happen just felt… wrong. It felt dangerous. I tapped against the door handle, trying to ignore the fact that I had maybe killed someone, and about how easy I had done it. We sat in silence, Ethan too busy puffing out smoke and me being too uncertain to start a conversation.

Anyway, how is a drug deal meant to go? Do we stand opposite of each other and throw the drugs and cash to other? Or do we send a lone guy to the other side to deliver the products? Do I have to walk towards a bunch of gangers and hand over the drugs?!

Around half an hour passed, my thoughts becoming darker and my heart beating faster with each passing minute, before I spied a couple of pairs of lights appeared in the distance, driving down fast through the road to our right. I felt my mouth dry up, and my heart jumped up into my throat.

Please don't be the Chico Mortales, please don't.

It wasn't. Even in the dark, he could spy the bright and colourful paint job of the sleek, modern cars designed more for style than practicality. They weren't quite high-end sport cars, but they were a hella lot nicer than the station wagon I sat in. Those cars could only belong to the fixer that had hired, and in only a couple of minutes, the sleek cars pulled up just a few metres away from the shit mobile.

The cars had been angled so that the headlights wouldn't blind them, but that there was still enough light to allow the surrounding area to be seen. Doors were opened, and doors were slammed shut, and before I knew it, there were ten people standing before them. The were dressed in vibrant colours and clothes that looked more suited for partying than doing a drug deal. Were they part of the Piranha gang? Quite a lot of them held what looked to be assault rifles, but they weren't any sort that I could recognise immediately- but the fact was quite clear, with only the magnum in Ethan's hand, we were outgunned.

"Ethan, my man. You got the coke?" A black man dressed in a neon white vest, with only a green mesh shirt underneath. He seemed to be the leader of the group, and that meant that he most likely was Ethan's fixer.

"You got the cash?"

8 + 4 + 3 = 15

I heard the sound of dice rattle once more, in the deepest corner of my mind. I had once seen that Ethan had replied whilst standing tall and trying to appear like this was an everyday occurrence for him. I wasn't the most observant, but I spied the way his free hand was shaking. He was scared, and if he was scared- then I must have looked absolutely terrified.

Calm down, act cool.

6 + 9 =13

8 + 4 + 6 = 18

"No need to be so cold, you wound me." The fixer placed a hand over his heart and acted as if Ethan's blunt tone had pierced his heart. He may seem like he was unserious, but his eyes gazed at us like a hawk. Gauging our reactions, he weighed his options as the cogs in his head turned. And suddenly, I felt a lot more calm- as if I was meeting new people from across the street, instead of being in a drug deal.

"I'll be a tad bit warmer if I have fifteen grand to as a bed cover." Ethan joked, once more acting like he could take on every single one of the guys here, andwin. He couldn't. I knew it, he knew it and it was more than likely that the fixer knew that too.
"Yes, yes. Won't we all be warmer if that was the case… anyway, I'm more than happy to pay for a job done well. And the boy?" His eyes rested upon me, and I flinched, suddenly once more afraid. However, I was able to ease out of the fear more easily.
"Picked the kid along the way. Good thing too, since he helped me fight off the Chico Mortales that followed me."

"Hmm, indeed, my man. Preach!" The fixer raised his hands into the air, suddenly very happy- even though I knew that it was all likely an act. One of the gun-wielding guys opened the boot of a vibrantly painted orange car and pulled out a cloth duffle bag. The bag was firmly closed, but yet, you could tell that it was filled to the brim with something. And what else could it be other than cold hard cash. "Anyway, the cash is in this. All fifteen grand. And the synthcoke?"

"In the trunk. All twenty kilos."

The fixer coughed into his hand, and two guys walked towards us. Fear gripped my heart, and I held my breath. Thankfully, they passed by us and opened the boot of Ethan's station wagon. They pulled out a couple large plastic-coated bricks of white powder.
"Alright, all looks good, my guy." The ganger holding the duffle bag full of cash threw it into the air, with enough for it to land just a few metres away from Ethan. "Pleasure doing business with you." The fixer shouted as he waved his hand, hoping into the orange car and speeding off, the rest of his group mimicked him and followed after him. All that was left of my first drug deal was the dust flown into the air by speeding cars, a duffle bag filled with money and a heavy heart.

"You did good, kid. I mean it. That fixer may act silly, but he's fucking terrifying. Now, let's get going- I rented car just parked a couple hundred metres in that direction earlier this afternoon." Ethan pointed into the darkness left of the t-intersection, the opposite direction that the fixer and his goons had speed off to. "We'll quickly burn my station wagon, and then we'll head off to my place. The Chico Mortales will be kept looking all night long."

"Yeah," I looked towards what little stars I could see, the sky clogged with the pollution of a world hell-bent on destroying everything around it. "I call first dibs on the shower though."

"I guess I'll let you, kid. You've done more than enough to deserve it." Ethan picked up the duffle bag, place it over his shoulder and and patted me roughly on the shoulder. That small olive branch meant a lot and made me think that maybe this old man was better than I thought. "Just be quiet about it though, wouldn't want to wake my daughter."

"You have a daughter? How!"

"Is it that hard to believe that I could pull a woman?"

"Yes." I said without hesitation. If you had told me earlier that this man had been single all his life, I would have believed you- and if you said otherwise, I would laugh at you.

"Jeez..."