Short story

Blizzard Montgomery (Warning: Violent)

I’m trying out a new Genre! 

My name is Tim “Blizzard” Montgomery. People call me Blizzard because of my white dye. I belong to Spine, the popular name for a gang that’s actually known as the “Independent Republic of Gamni Army.” Gamni is the main city we live in, not a country. The name is a lie.

Our gang’s income is gained mainly from bootleg china town knockoffs of popular products and drugs. We mainly hire teenagers and people down on their luck. Sometimes we hire people who can actually use a gun and defend themselves. This may or may not be a bad call.

For example, some of our Spinal hit-men were told to ax off a guy who pocketed the drugs he was delivering. He wasn’t at home, though and had been camping for days now by police stations. Smart, I guess.

But now me and my buddy and coworker Frolly were after his ass. He had a gun and so did we.

He was running for his life. We were driving up to him when he saw us. I leapt out the car while Frolly was still trying to park it. I bolted towards him, hoping to end things quickly.

The man was playing dirty, which was to be expected but never pleasant. He hid behind crowds of people. He probably knew I never used a gun when there were people in the way. It was my fault he knew this: everyone in the gang knew too much about me and my weaknesses. I’m way too popular in the gang.

He bolted when I ran up to him. Chasing him, I chased the guy, planning to knife him covertly. I had a regular tiny knife in my pocket but I also had a trick ring: there’s not only a retractable blade long enough to cut throats in it but also a tracker so if I hit a clothing of article or cut somewhere that doesn’t kill him instantly I can at least find the guy if I lose him.

My partner caught up with the two of us soon. Frolly’s a runner and I bet he would be the one to catch the man if only there wasn’t a crowd in the way. We couldn’t keep shoving people if we wanted to be covert.

The man made a turn into an alley, a classic error. We thought we’d catch him if we just made it to the alleyway, but it was empty when we made it. Nothing but a wooden fence that he probably leapt and some trash cans. I ran up to the fence, kicking the trashcans over in case he was in them, and leapt over it. Frolly did the same.

The man had probably known the alley way very well and believed there were more crowds ahead. Unluckily for him the street was blocked off for construction. We saw him running alone towards a fence. I took out my gun and ran closer. Neither me nor Frolly have spectacular aim so all of our shots missed. Frolly sprinted, halving the distance between him and the man in seconds. He stopped and shot.

The shot hit, there was no mistake. The man was shot right in the back. However, the wound must have not been immediately fatal because he leapt the fence quickly.

Even though there’s a lot of distance between the bars of the steel fence any user of firearms will tell you not to try to hit something from behind a fence. Me and Frolly leapt the fence and took our shots at the man.

We were now in a parking lot to a shopping center. The man was running and ducking between cars. Staying covert meant not leaving bullets behind in cars. We also probably needed the man alive so we could drag him to a secluded area before killing him, but now that he was bleeding out the main importance was killing him before he made it to the shopping center and garnering attention.

It’s probably a good time to say that me and Frolly, while good, were by no means excellent at our jobs. I’m popular, I assure you. I’m not infamous, but popular for a reason that has nothing to do with my ability to chase and kill. This man had us stumped with his tactics. Me and Frolly should have abandoned trying to be covert but neither of us wanted to have to explain things to our superiors.

The man wasn’t making much progress with his tactics, though, and I could tell that the wounds that gunshot had given him were starting to catch up with him. Fun fact, a man who’s shot even fatally can still run and act as they normally but will eventually crash after five minutes or so.

It was just bad luck, probably, that a man drove right into the lane we were in. Witnesses. I ducked behind a car. Frolly ignored the man and chased our target, who was headed to a crowded area in front of the entrance.

“Damn it!” Frolly said and aimed a shot. It missed and the man entered the store by its Toys R Us entrance. Frolly could make it into the store before our target could enter the mall, but he’d have a lot of cover in this mall.

My record isn’t exactly clean, but outright failure would tarnish my reputation nonetheless. I prepared for more frustration and put away my gun. We towards the store with Frolly in the lead when we were both surprised by what followed.

The man exited the store and ran to the right. Frolly caught up with the man immediately and took him by the neck. I caught up with the two of them and let the man know that I’d knife him immediately if he struggled.

We walked away from the crowd. We took him to a nearby alleyway at knifepoint. Frolly threw him down.

“Wait,” I said. “Dude, why didn’t you let anyone see your gunshot wound in the crowd?”

The man looked up at me. He looked faint.

“Really, you were crouching and everything. If you screamed out and pointed to us we probably would have fled,” I said.

The man shook his head. “I didn’t need any police in my business.”

“And why did you leave the Toys R Us?” Frolly asked.

“Do you even hear what you’re asking me?” he said. Then he looked up at us as if sneering. “There were fucking kids in there! I wasn’t going to lead you to them! I have a daughter for Christ’s sake!”

“Idiot,” Frolly said. “That’s why you’re going to die. You’re an idiot.”

I, however, was silent. The man wheezed in pain. The wound wasn’t doing him any favors. His clothes were soaked with blood. Frolly grabbed him and dipped his head over a bucket. “Blizzard, knife the bastard already! This bucket’ll catch the bleeding.”

“What about his gun wound?” I said.

“His clothes are absorbing it and it’ll stop bleeding after he’s dead!” Frolly said. “Hurry!”

I walked over to the man. Then I took out my gun and shot him in the head.

“What the hell man? Someone could have heard us!” Frolly said. “What are we gonna do now?”

We waited, but no one came around. “Get the car,” I said. “I’ll watch the body.

Frolly looked at me. He was steaming angry but didn’t argue further. He left to get the car. I sat down on a box and waited by the body. I felt pretty bad, yeah, but a third of that was about how Frolly would probably make me do all of the cleaning later.

There. That’s a tale of me and Frolly, two evil dudes. I still feel bad about killing someone who had a daughter. I still feel bad about many people Frolly and I have to take out. This wasn’t my most glorious story but it’s a story.


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