MADRIGAL

CHAPTER 0 - MONTY

If Ernesto really could see the future, he'd know Monty would never give him a gun.

The two men sat in a Green Bay Panda Burger, a study in contrasts. Monty was an older, somber African-American who was tall and fit. His tablemate was a young, perky, red-headed fellow who would never be referred to as either tall or fit. Ernesto was going on about how he wanted to take part in the raid. That wasn't happening, and Monty was only half-listening at this point, focused on more important things. He thought he had made a mistake, but, no, it was right there on the receipt, –PICKLES, and yet there they sat, two green slices befouling his meal. He was in no mood to get up and insist his order be fixed; rather, he removed the offending vegetables and dropped them on a napkin.

"I'm sure I could be of help," Ernesto said.

"I'm sure you would be," Monty said, quite sure that Ernesto wouldn't be, but now his attention was drawn to the far side of the room. A girl of four years or so was being loud in her seat before her father reached over to grasp her arm. The man leaned in and whispered harshly to the child, and she shuddered under his glare. Monty knew the type of man and knew that the girl would face far worse once she returned home. It was Monty's solemn belief that some people shouldn't be allowed to be parents. He prepared to walk over to them when Ernesto said something that drew his attention back. He didn't think he heard correctly, so he asked Ernesto to repeat himself.

"Back in the car, I performed a movement."

Nope. That's what he'd heard. "A what?"

"A movement. You know, when I move forward in time. That's what I'm calling it."

"Yeah, no. First off, we need to pick a new name."

"What I'm saying is, I looked ahead, and everything was good. I went to where we entered the building, and then I moved forward again, and found us eating in another Panda Burger. You thanked me for saving your life, and everything seemed okay."

"You're not going; you can't. You're too..." Naïve, inexperienced, incapable... "Important. It's too dangerous."

"If it's too dangerous for two people, then how isn't it for one?"

"Because of what you can do. If I get killed, it won't matter to anybody, but with you..."

"How can you say that? It'd matter to me. We're friends."

Monty stopped himself from laughing because the guy was completely serious. Monty first met Ernesto for a half-hour last month, and they'd been together the last two days. That was it, but the man seemed genuinely hurt by the insinuation that they weren't friends. People didn't become friends that quickly. In the military, sure, when Monty and another soldier had met during a firefight, saving each other's lives without knowing the other's name, then they'd bond over beers afterwards. Monty and Ernesto didn't have that type of relationship. All the two of them had done was talk.

"I looked," Ernesto said. "You can't go by yourself."

"I'll be fine."

"No, you won't." Ernesto nudged a French fry through a puddle of ketchup on his tray before leaving it there. "I checked. If you go in by yourself..., I'm sorry, but you die."

Monty was unfazed by the revelation. He had accepted his own extinction since yesterday's conversation. "Well, you said when the police go in, they also die. Better me than them."

"No, it's not. When they go in, the drug lab blows up. When you go, you get shot. I saw us going in, and I saw us after. You said I saved your life, so I have to go."

"Can't let you. Sorry."

"Are you saying I'm lying?"

"No," and Monty sighed. The guy had shown him too much not to be believed, and Monty did not think of Ernesto as the duplicitous sort. "It's just--"