I took the first bus out of Dobbs Ferry at five in the morning. I looked like hell and I felt like the devil himself. The search for pleasure was overrated. There was absolutely nothing to be gained from life. Everything was utterly meaningless. I took public transit all the way down to Trent Woods, another small community near Queens. There was an old French man named Gerard Lacroix who had ties to one of the girls in the gang and who had a couple of properties in other states. I was going to give him my ten thousand dollars and ask him to let me live in one of them just for a little while until I figured out what I wanted to do next. My life's mission had been accomplished. What else was there left to do in a pitiful young life? I had often contemplated suicide but that was not the answer. I felt like there was still something else I needed to do.
The bus dropped me off in the downtown of Trent Woods just as the sun was climbing up into the sky. I hopped off and went roaming around to see if I could, by any chance, find the old man's house and try to explain to him who I was and why I needed his help. There was no going back to see Robin Crowley or Damian Welker. If Gerard Lacroix was of no help to me, I would just have to improvise and I wasn't the best at doing that, especially when my only resource was ten thousand dollars and an illegally obtained handgun. Regardless of if Gerard Lacroix could help me or not, I was already on my own, and that was a choice I had made long ago. After walking a few blocks I thought I spotted the old man's house so I went and pounded on the door. Worst case scenario, it wasn't his house.
"Drifter?!" Shany was the person I saw on the other side of the door.
"Shannon?" I was just as surprised as she was.
"What are you doing here? You're the last person I expected to show up for the funeral."
"The funeral? What funeral? I'm looking for Gerard Lacroix and I know now that this is his house."
"His funeral. He croaked four days ago. He left everything to me."
"Son of a bitch! The last person who could've helped me just had to freaking die! Is it just me or all of my resources just get wiped right out from under my feet at the same time?!"
"What did you need him for?"
"I need to skip town. I wanted to know if I could kind of rent one of his properties in Utah or something for a little while until I figure out my own life."
"What did you do this time?"
"You'll see it on the news in the next couple of days."
I thanked Shany for her time and the food she gave me before going on my way again. Just as I was walking down the street back to the downtown, I encountered Byron driving an old blue Pontiac.
"Byron!" I shouted in a mixture of shock and excitement.
"Drifter!" he shouted in response, "Get in the car!"
I quickly jumped in and buckled myself into the passenger's seat as he made a U-turn in the middle of the quiet street and went back from where he came from. Byron looked shocked to see me. All of my people had been shocked to see me so far but I couldn't really comprehend why. I looked much better with my new haircut and the mostly new clothes I had on. Some of the guys disappeared for weeks at a time but when they came back nobody was shocked. But then again, they weren't Jeff's little sister.
"My God," Byron spoke after taking a deep breath, "we were all sure you were dead!"
"Why? Because I was gone for a while?" I chuckled under my breath, "It wouldn't be the first time I ran. And for the record, I was on a brazen crime spree. I'm sure you've heard about it on TV. I was even caught on camera robbing a corner store!"
YOU ARE READING
The Distant FactoryGeneral Fiction
Three years after the murder of her brother by a corrupt politician, Anastasia Sims is hellbent on revenge no matter what the costs. She sets out on a rash of petty crimes by herself until she is recruited by a group of black market arms dealers for...