Dirt: A Tale of Revenge - Part 2/4

Sasha.

I sit in the chair beside Sasha’s bed. She sleeps soundly, her long hair spilling across her face, hiding eyes the lightest blue.

“We were friends once,” I whisper.

She wakes. She doesn’t jump with fright or reach for the gun in her nightstand I’ve already taken. She rises slowly.

“Why’d you tell him where we were?” I ask, “What did he have on you?”

She doesn’t answer. Outside, rain begins to patter the windowsill. I pick up a small, framed photo that sits on the stand, a picture of Sasha from long ago. I can’t help but smile.

“I remember when we first met. I remember our first job and how you hesitated.”
“How you saved my life,” Sasha says.
I return the picture to its original place after wiping my prints from the frame. “I want to thank you for what you did for Charlie.”
“It’s all I could"”
“But that doesn’t change what you did to me and Lily.”

We sit in silence, not once locking eyes. She breaks the aging quiet.

“Are you going to kill me?”
“Yes.”
She nods. “Will it hurt?”
“No.”
“Promise?” she asks.
“I promise.”

She lies back, pulling the sheets to her chest, and closes her eyes. I raise my weapon.

“Goodbye.”

---

Damnation.

A jolt wakes me as I roll into a curved chunk of metal. I’m in the trunk of a car, my hands and legs tied. I twist and fight against the ropes that tear my skin.
I’ve got to break free, have to warn Charlie. Jesus, how could Sasha betray us? No, can’t focus on that, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting free and warning Charlie.
My muscles cramp as I work. Brick’s left both my shoulders dislocated. The bones shift awkwardly, freed from their sockets. The car rolls to a stop. The motor dies. Moonlight spills over my beaten body as the trunk swings open, blocked somewhat by Brick’s bulky form.

“Having fun?” Frank says, his white teeth shown in full form with a long, wolf-like smile.
“Fuck you, Frank.”

Frank responds by breaking my nose.

“God, fuck! You fucking fuck!” I scream, trying to fight back as they pull me out of the trunk.
“Let’s go, partner,” Frank says as he drags me down the road.

Ahead lays a long abandoned construction site. Rusted trucks and cement mixers scatter across the field. Mounds of coal-black dirt rise in neat little pyramid piles. Behind us Taylor backs the car up savoring what little time he ever gets behind the wheel. Sasha follows.
We reach the pit. I don’t have to ask why I’m here, I already know. It’s where we buried Sasha’s old partner Samuel two years ago. He didn’t like to play fair when it came to getting pinched, tried to flip us. Frank didn’t like that.

“Recognize this place, Tom?” Frank asks.

They’re going to bury me.

“I do.”
“Then I guess an explanation isn’t necessary.”

He shoves hard. Before I know what’s happening, I’m flying through the air, and it’s almost peaceful. Then I hit the ground. I land hard, still bound at the legs and feet, coughing into the dirt and groaning as I turn on my back.
Brick locks his monstrous hands around a dump truck’s grill. His muscles contract, veins pulsing as he begins to drag it, fully loaded, towards the pit. I fight at the ropes. Frank and Taylor watch my struggles. Only Sasha doesn’t look. She’s sitting alone in the car and crying, perhaps over Samuel, perhaps over me.
Brick stands above. With impossible strength, he forces the truck’s load bearer upwards. Rock and sand slowly fills the pit. By the time I manage to sit up it’s almost at my waist.

“Bye Tom,” Frank says, removing the surgical gloves and tucking them back in his pocket.

I can’t think, I can’t fight, and as the dirt covers my face, I hear the car start.