Rough Road Ahead (In Progress)

Chapter 19

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            My feet brought be closer to the edge, watching as Luck descended the ladder with a small hammer held between his teeth. When he reached the bottom he looked up, "start with the walls?" He asked, removing the hammer and keeping it in his right hand.

            "Sure." Good called, not even looking at his brother. He was too busy keeping the rest of us in check. Somehow I knew none of us were going to run, we were almost in the clear, and getting on their bad sides now would do more harm than good.

            Luck shrugged, pulling his arm back and smashing the hammer into the gold. I saw my father cringe. He loved his job, he loved history and now he was watching it get destroyed and could do nothing to stop it. I felt bad for him, but at the same time I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to go home, go to school, see my friends.           

            Sam walked towards me, taking my hand in his and looking over the edge with me, "beautiful." He remarked as I heard the hammer hit the wall.

            "Yes." I smiled, squeezing his hand.

            "Fuck!" Luck screamed, holding up something with his let hand.

            "What?" Good asked, looking over the edge, but then quickly looking back at the rest of us.

            "It's rock!" Good yelled, "it's fucking rock coated with a thin layer of gold!" I could hear the anger in his voice as he threw the rock onto the ground. It shattered into millions of pieces, dispersing across the area.

            "Try the floor?" Good suggested, his gun still held towards us all. My father had a perturbed expression, but didn't move or speak. Him and my mother stood side by side holding hands. Max was beside my mother, his arm wrapped around her waist, trying to feel secure in the chaos.

            Luck mumbled something else and kicked some stuff before lifting his hammer again and hitting the floor half heartedly. The hammer swung back, sending him flying onto his ass. "That's gold." Luck smiled, standing up and whipping himself off before hitting the gold piece again. This time it broke off and he lifted it. "That's about as gold as gold gets! Look at this little brother!" He lifted it, showing it to Good, "mom's chemo is totally paid for and then some!"

            The piece he held up was about a centimeter thick and about as wide as any standardized tile today.

            "Yo," Luck called, "get pops, the kid and the boy to help."

            Good pointed his gun, "you heard the man." He grinned, and my father kissed my mother before walking to the ladder and descending the hole. Max followed and so did Sam who kissed me and told me that he loved me. Brad walked up beside me, "isn't lover-boy so sweet." He grinned.

            "He is." I retorted, keeping my eyes on the ladder.

Once one tile was up it was easy to pull the rest of them up. The house had been small, so the floor space spanned ten tiles by twenty tiles. This was a lot of gold. And gold was heavy. I could tell by the way that Luck and the rest were sweating by the time they had seven of them up that they weren't going to be able to take all of them in one batch.

            "How much do you think one of these babies is worth?" Luck asked, standing up, sweat pouring down his face and matting his thick black hair to his head, making him appear older.

            Good peered down at his brother, "100 thousand each?" He guessed.

            Luck wiped his forehead, breathing heavily, "how many tiles do we really need?" He breathed.

            "Ten?" Good guessed, "that's enough for moms chemo and for the rest of our lives!"

            "If you can sell it." My father murmured, still working on brining up the tiles.

            "We have a seller lined up, pops." Luck retorted, standing over my father who was on his hands and knees below him.

            "So a few more?" Luck breathed, looking across the group that was still working hard, sweat dripping down their backs in a stream. They almost looked as if they had showered in the salty, warm, perspiration.

            "Fucking arm." Brad cursed, his eyes viewing his hurt arm in anger.

            "Not your fault it's hurt." I responded without observing him, my eyes were still watching the group.

            "Fuck if that matters." Brad kicked the group, red dirt smoking into the air, causing me to stumble backwards coughing. Whatever that red stuff was, it wasn't good for the lungs. It burned breathing it in, as if a million red ants were biting you simultaneously. My arms sprawled out, suddenly I was blind, the only thing visible the red smoke. Falling forward, I grabbed whatever was in front of me, which so happened to be Brad. My legs locked around his hips, pulling him to the ground in a thump.

            "What the..." his voice trailed off as he slumped onto his back, luckily not hitting his hurt arm on the rough, hard ground. I fell right on top of him, both our faces a few inches apart. I laid there, stunned for a minute, then two, then three.

            His eyes were brown today, he was wearing contacts, covering his unique beauty, his luscious lips had no emotion, but there was a small pull at the corners of his lips that seemed quite strange.

            I could feel his jeans under me, the rough material tight to his legs.           "Well then.." I heard luck say from above us. I looked up at him, quickly pulling myself up and dusting the red dirt off of me. It burned my skin as I touched it, but I had bigger fish to fry. What was that red stuff?

            "This isn't what it looks like." I retorted, looking at Brad that was still on the ground, his legs spread in the dying day light. I wanted him to help me, to tell him that I had fallen. That it was an accident. That I was just getting up. But he didn't. He just laid there, not moving, that safe emotionless expression holding up.

            "I'm not judging." Luck grinned, winking at my brother and walking away.

            "But it's not what it looks like!" I protested, stomping my feet like a child. I kicked the evil dirt up, letting it's acidic like soil wash over Brad's skin. "I can't believe you!" I stomped away.

            Brad looked at me perplexed, then stood up, whipping himself up and murmuring behind me, "you fell on me. I didn't do anything."

            "That's right, you didn't do anything."

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