Detroit, Michigan 1992
I stare down the barrel of a gun, in the distance the sun falls behind concrete and steel. The gun attaches to a boy, couldn’t be more than twenty-one years old… but he’s scared and unpredictable.
“Look, I told you to bring the money.”
He stammers his words, not his finest moment.
“I… I have the disk.”
He reaches into his pocket, shows his hand… suddenly the gun feels less lethal.
“A fair exchange, I didn’t make any copies.”
Poor kid, feels like I’m blackmailing him.
“Look kid.”
Sweat forms on his brow.
“I’m not Hinderman.”
He raises the gun, his hand shakes.
“Who… who…”
His words evaporate once they leave his lips.
“Whe… where is he?”
I feel like a father telling his son Santa Clause doesn’t exist.
“He’s dead.”
The Kid nearly has a heart attack, his gun loses its balance with the horizon.
I move slowly, trying to be as calm as possible.
“Easy kid, lets talk about this.”
He flails the gun wildly, trying to assert his dominance.
“No, no… I’m in charge here.”
I move closer.
“Stop… stop or I’ll shoot.”
The suns almost set now, can’t get a good look at the gun. Looks like the safety’s on.
“I’m serious, one step closer and…”
I leap forward, grabbing the gun as I do, it goes off… waking the dead as it does.
Fires to the left, misses both of us, need to end this quick.
He struggles, his leg hits me in the ribs, I feel it. He doesn’t notice, I twist his arm just enough for the gun to fall from his grasp.
“Gnargh!”
His yell is almost as loud as the gunshot.
I roll off him, taking the gun as I do. I get to my feet first, gun in hand, now its my turn to ask the questions.
“Who are you?”
He slowly climbs to his feet, nursing his hand.
“How do you know Hinderman?”
My questions are direct.
He cleans himself up, defeated and humiliated he tries to find some sense of himself.
“I don’t know him, I’ve never even met the guy.”
He looks close to tears… I believe him.
“I found his briefcase, had all sorts of notes inside and a disk.”
His story gathers pace.
“I was gonna give it back, but I was curious.”
Killed the cat.
“So I put the floppy in my computer, all sorts of things were on it, names, dates, addresses.”
“I check a few names out at the library, the papers we’re full of em. Some really bad people were on that list.”
I get a curiosity all my own.
“Albert Zerstoiten, was he on the list.”
I already know the answer.
“Oh him.”
I lower the gun, don’t need it anymore, the kids on a roll.
“He was on it quite a few times, something about a device.”
He pulls out the disk.
“See for yourself.”
I place it in my jacket pocket, I'll need help for this, computers are like a foreign language to me.
“Are you gonna kill me?”
I empty the gun of its cargo and throw it on the ground.
“I don’t use guns kid.”
His face screams relief.
“I'm one of the good guys.”
At least that's what I tell myself.
I walk over to him, he anticipates my blow, I don’t give it.
“Did you drive here?”
His face mixes confusion with fear… ugly bedfellows.
“Ye… ye… yes, I’m parked just around the corner.”
The poor kid’s scared out of his wits, if I had been Hinderman, he’d be dead.
We walk to the car, an uncomfortable silence stalks us the entire way.
“I need your keys.”
He hesitates.
“Keys? Why?”
He knows the answer. I don’t bite. The look on my face is the only incentive he needs.
I take the keys then I pat him on the shoulder as I climb inside.
“Get out of Detroit kid, its not safe.”
I start the engine and drive off, leaving the cars owner high and dry. I’m not proud of it, but if I’m right, this cities about to get worse.
The further away he is, the better off he’ll be.
To be continued…
I stare down the barrel of a gun, in the distance the sun falls behind concrete and steel. The gun attaches to a boy, couldn’t be more than twenty-one years old… but he’s scared and unpredictable.
“Look, I told you to bring the money.”
He stammers his words, not his finest moment.
“I… I have the disk.”
He reaches into his pocket, shows his hand… suddenly the gun feels less lethal.
“A fair exchange, I didn’t make any copies.”
Poor kid, feels like I’m blackmailing him.
“Look kid.”
Sweat forms on his brow.
“I’m not Hinderman.”
He raises the gun, his hand shakes.
“Who… who…”
His words evaporate once they leave his lips.
“Whe… where is he?”
I feel like a father telling his son Santa Clause doesn’t exist.
“He’s dead.”
The Kid nearly has a heart attack, his gun loses its balance with the horizon.
I move slowly, trying to be as calm as possible.
“Easy kid, lets talk about this.”
He flails the gun wildly, trying to assert his dominance.
“No, no… I’m in charge here.”
I move closer.
“Stop… stop or I’ll shoot.”
The suns almost set now, can’t get a good look at the gun. Looks like the safety’s on.
“I’m serious, one step closer and…”
I leap forward, grabbing the gun as I do, it goes off… waking the dead as it does.
Fires to the left, misses both of us, need to end this quick.
He struggles, his leg hits me in the ribs, I feel it. He doesn’t notice, I twist his arm just enough for the gun to fall from his grasp.
“Gnargh!”
His yell is almost as loud as the gunshot.
I roll off him, taking the gun as I do. I get to my feet first, gun in hand, now its my turn to ask the questions.
“Who are you?”
He slowly climbs to his feet, nursing his hand.
“How do you know Hinderman?”
My questions are direct.
He cleans himself up, defeated and humiliated he tries to find some sense of himself.
“I don’t know him, I’ve never even met the guy.”
He looks close to tears… I believe him.
“I found his briefcase, had all sorts of notes inside and a disk.”
His story gathers pace.
“I was gonna give it back, but I was curious.”
Killed the cat.
“So I put the floppy in my computer, all sorts of things were on it, names, dates, addresses.”
“I check a few names out at the library, the papers we’re full of em. Some really bad people were on that list.”
I get a curiosity all my own.
“Albert Zerstoiten, was he on the list.”
I already know the answer.
“Oh him.”
I lower the gun, don’t need it anymore, the kids on a roll.
“He was on it quite a few times, something about a device.”
He pulls out the disk.
“See for yourself.”
I place it in my jacket pocket, I'll need help for this, computers are like a foreign language to me.
“Are you gonna kill me?”
I empty the gun of its cargo and throw it on the ground.
“I don’t use guns kid.”
His face screams relief.
“I'm one of the good guys.”
At least that's what I tell myself.
I walk over to him, he anticipates my blow, I don’t give it.
“Did you drive here?”
His face mixes confusion with fear… ugly bedfellows.
“Ye… ye… yes, I’m parked just around the corner.”
The poor kid’s scared out of his wits, if I had been Hinderman, he’d be dead.
We walk to the car, an uncomfortable silence stalks us the entire way.
“I need your keys.”
He hesitates.
“Keys? Why?”
He knows the answer. I don’t bite. The look on my face is the only incentive he needs.
I take the keys then I pat him on the shoulder as I climb inside.
“Get out of Detroit kid, its not safe.”
I start the engine and drive off, leaving the cars owner high and dry. I’m not proud of it, but if I’m right, this cities about to get worse.
The further away he is, the better off he’ll be.
To be continued…
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