It was so cold that I was convinced that the air around me had a strong desire to kill me; it was almost painful to breathe. I even got my own thermal gear because the stuff McDonald’s issues was never warm enough for me (I get cold easily), but it was still failing me. I tried to focus on the task at hand but I found it hard to concentrate. Tim Gaines, standing behind me, didn’t make it any easier with his incessant whining.
“When are we gonna go in?” he complained at me for what was probably the eighteenth time. Yeah, I kept count. I was pissed at Gertrude for sending him out with me; she knew it was my last mission. She could have sent me with anyone else, but it had to be that kid. Who I hate, by the way. Well, it’s hard to hate him now because he’s dead, but you get the idea. “What are they doing?” That question was a new one. I only answered it because it showed that he held an interest in what we were doing. Or going to do.
“One of them is sitting on a crate, smoking,” I said to that sullen bastard. We had a good vantage point of the empty lot from behind the neighboring building. I went on, “Where they got the crate, I have no idea, but whatever. The other one is standing.” I’m chuckling a bit with a smile on my face as I remember this next part. “It looks like he’s playing soldier or something. He keeps aiming his gun everywhere. Hold on a sec.” I wanted Tim to shut up so I could hear what the standing holder’s mouth was saying. “Did you hear that?”
“No.” I could almost hear the shake of his head. He even sounded like a sad puppy.
I, however, was highly amused. “He’s going ‘pop pop’ when he points his gun somewhere. What a dumbass. This’ll be easy.”
“Then why can’t we go in now?” Tim was really starting to bug me. It was enough to partner with him on a mission, but I wanted to kill the man whenever he talked. I tried to motivate myself by thinking about the next day when I would be able to retire. I am retired now, and I must say that it is rather nice. That’s what taking ten lots will get for you. McDonald’s paid me well plus I still have a few active sponsorship deals with a few different companies.
You know, I’m not sure if this is true, but I heard that the average retention rate of a holder is less than two months. Apparently most people only do it if they’re hurting for cash or are some kind of crazy psychotic abnormality. I only met one of the ladder (I don’t want to talk about it, but I guess I’m going to have to later) and quite a few of the former.
I was a career man, doing it for two straight years. Hey, it was good money. I think the only reason I lasted so long is because I’m one of those few who doesn’t give in to the government propaganda encouraging drug abuse. I just don’t think it’s the way to solve overpopulation. I mean, the new commercial real estate laws are good enough. Not to mention the fact that the pay-per-view that features the holding battles over empty lots makes some great money for everyone involved. And why not try space travel? I know a lot of people think it’s impossible, but…
Ok, I’m going off on a tangent. Sorry, we’ll get into the space travel thing later anyway.
Anyway, I was evaluating what parts of the rubble filled lot we could use for cover. Then Tim asked that same question for the twentieth time, “Can we just go in now?” He tried to sound like he had been a patient puppy, but I didn’t buy into it.
I turned on him and pushed words through anger clenched teeth, “Listen Gaines. You better shape the hell up. Check your damn monitor. We still have over a half hour left before their CEO can claim the lot. If you want to go in so bad, then go in alone.” I kind of wanted him to. “But I’m going to be smart about it and be patient. We just freaking got here like fifteen minutes ago. So either shut up or go in alone and die.” I took my time to emphasize that last part. Nobody wants to die…well, I guess some people do, but you get what I’m saying.
I took a hard look at the little bitch after I said that, and it looked like he was about to cry. I shook my head with the shame of having to call him my partner as I turned back to observe the two Burger King holders. The one who had been playing soldier was now sitting and it looked to me like he was taking a couple tabs of acid. I smiled. The one who was sitting before was currently standing but still smoking a cigarette. “What are they? Doing some kind of crazy rotation?” It was a rhetorical question.
I looked past them at the crowded street then, and I saw two other holders wearing Macy’s badges. They were standing on the sidewalk doing the same thing I was doing. From the angle of their view, I knew they could see the BK holders, but the ladder could not see them. I wondered if they could see Tim and me, because if they did it would make sense that they were waiting for us to attack first. I really didn’t care if they were, because it just meant that there were two more holders to kill. I was just wondering.
I turned only my head around to face Tim and said, “There’s two more in the street. From Macy’s. Step on up so you can see them.” I moved a little backward and a little to the side so that Tim could move up.
Tim did so and nodded once he had caught sight of the two newly found enemies. He stepped back, although I noticed a slight hesitation before he did. “Don’t even think about it,” I told him. Before I moved back into position, I felt he needed a little more encouragement so I grabbed him by the front of his coat. “Don’t screw this up for me.” My eyes went wide when I said that and I’m pretty sure he knew I meant it.
I stepped forward and looked back at the two BK holders. The one who sat on the crate was rolling a joint now, probably to get his brain cells to soak up the LSD a little faster. I mean, that’s definitely why he was doing it. I’m pretty sure he had popped a couple pills of ecstasy into his mouth to go for the triple threat. I lied before; I do smoke marijuana every now and then, but I never did it while I was working. It’s just stupid.
The other BK holder was lying down against a small pile of bricks left over from the building that once
stood in the lot. I think the company that had owned it went bankrupt or something; that was the most common reason to see an empty lot. It still is, as far as I know. Anyway, I knew then that this would be our best opportunity to attack.
“Get ready to move,” I told Tim. I had turned my head so I could enforce the statement with eye contact, and I saw him twitch a little. “Stay low and follow me in. We’ll go for that pile of concrete there for cover. See it?” I turned to point it out to him, and he had to step forward a bit to see it. He nodded once he had spotted it.
I always got excited before I rushed in on a lot. I could practically feel the adrenaline pumping throughout my muscles but it only made me more wary if nothing else. It actually made me a little tense, which is why I liked to stretch before I went out on a mission.
I eyed the Macy’s holders before saying to Tim, “Alright, let’s go.” One of the hovering cameras that filmed the battle for the pay-per-view trailed behind us as we sprinted for cover while crouching low. Running through that shield always bothered me. I understand it’s a protective measure for the bystanders who liked to watch the battle, but it just felt weird to me.
We reached the pile of cinderblocks with ease. The BK holder who was lying down was an easy kill as his hands were nowhere near his weapon. Plus, he was facing us. The other one managed to run behind the short wall that stood near the middle of the lot but he left his gun behind.
“Wait!” I heard the remaining BK holder shout. I probably laughed, but I’m not sure. “Wait, can you let me get my gun?” He sounded pretty calm and I guessed then that he had taken some E. He didn’t abandon his cover, though. “How about you guys let me take this lot and I’ll let you take one the next time we see each other? Please?” The “please” was definitely more of an attempt at kindness than a beg.
“How about you come out and die?” Tim shouted back while poking his head up above our cover. He turned to me and laughed like he was funny or something.
“Shut the hell up,” I told him. Gaines was an idiot. “We can use this. Didn’t I tell you not screw it up for me?” Sullenness ate his face, but he apparently didn’t know how to shut his mouth.
“I was just having some fun. We can joke around sometimes. You do it all the time.”
“Yeah, when it’s appropriate. Does this seem like the right time to you?”
“But—”
“I thought I told you to shut the hell up?” I was mean to him, I know, but the kid was a waste of life. I didn’t mind when he died. It saves the world from overpopulation, right? I yelled to the BK holder, “Hey, my partner was just joking. He’s a stupid jackass. We’ll let you get your gun.”
“Really?” he asked. And then, “You don’t have to be so mean to him. We can all be nice. Do you guys want to hug me? I kind of want to hug you.”
“Ok, we can hug. But you’re going to have to come to us. We’re too scared to hug right now because we’re shy and we need you to help us.” Tim had started laughing again and I punched him in the gut. He coughed. I almost thought the kid was going to shoot me, but he just gave me one of those pathetic puppy looks.
“Ok.” The BK holder stepped out, and Tim took a few shots at him too early and missed. The holder ducked behind the wall again…
“Damn it Tim!” I said to that fool. “Wait until we can take a clear shot.” You may be wondering why I didn’t just charge the BK holder. It was because I knew the two Macy’s holders were still around somewhere.
A jet flew overhead then and I looked up at it. On its bottom side resided the Burger King logo. I checked the monitor on my wrist and saw that we only had a few minutes left. I guess I had miscalculated the timing, which is rare for me.
“Look,” I shouted to the BK holder. “We don’t want to hug right now because we’re nervous. But you can get your gun.”
“Why are you nervous?” he asked with a sincere type of concerned curiosity.
“Um, we’re just…extreme homophobes. You can go ahead and get your gun, though.”
“Ok, but if you want to hug that’s ok too. It’s not gay; it’s friendly.” He stepped out from behind his cover again and this time Tim waited to shoot. He put his hand out flat indicating that I should stay down. That was fine with me. He wanted to take the shot? I would let him take the shot.
The BK holder seemed pretty happy about what he was doing as he walked toward his gun. He held both of his thumbs up and had some kind of delirious, drug-induced smile spread across his face. I know this because I poked my head just slightly above our cover so I would see if Gaines screwed up. I knew that he probably would, but I didn’t actually expect him to be so stupid as to get himself killed right off the bat.
“Thanks guys,” the BK holder thanked us just before Gaines opened fire.
He shouted or screamed some kind of deranged battle cry like he was in a movie or something; I guess he thought he was cool. I mean, all it takes is just a few rounds off to kill a man if you’re a good shot, but this kid unleashed a barrage of bullets upon his target that I felt was a tad excessive.
You see that sometimes when people are just immature or way too into the job. I always did my best to stay calm. Excitement is another word for lack of caution, and that will, of course, lead to mistakes like the one Gaines made.
“Boo yah!” that kid celebrated once he had so carelessly emptied his magazine. I had ducked back down once I had confirmed that the second BK holder was dead. “That’s how Mickey D’s does it! Yeah!” He looked down at me and smiled, slapping me on the shoulder like the proud puppy he was. Then he got shot in the head.
I knew it was the Macy’s holders, of course. Who else could it be? That meant they were on the lot with me which froze the timer at the initial start time of twenty four hours. Once I killed them, the countdown would start from there. When it reached zero, the McDonald’s CEO (I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him a few times; he’s a nice guy) would be eligible to claim the lot. Assuming I could hold it for that long. Of course, the alternative was death or surrender, either of which meant no job and no money.
Anyway, I wasn’t sure if they knew where I was, but I assumed that they did. Hell, they might have even thought that I was already dead, but I never take any chances.
I blind threw a flash grenade and covered my ears while closing my eyes. After I had counted to three with the patience and calm of one who had achieved nirvana (I actually never have; it just sounds cool to say that), I gripped my weapon and peeked above the pile of cinderblocks once more. One of the Macy’s holders was crouching with his head between his knees behind the small pile of bricks on which the corpse of the first BK holder now rested. That first guy from Macy’s was an easy kill.
I made a quick scan to try and find the second and sole remaining holder (other than myself), but he had already found a hiding spot. Well, either that or I had missed him on that first look, but I find that highly unlikely. I’m a self-proclaimed perfectionist which means I liked to keep my magazine completely filled with rounds at all times. I reloaded using some extra ammunition that I kept in one of my pockets.
I was about to make another scan but I heard some bullets striking my cover. I saw the dust that rose up into the air from those hits and for some reason remembered how cold it was outside. There were still the grenades that Tim had come with, and I took one from him seeing as how he wouldn’t need it anymore. I took another quick glance after the last Macy’s holder had stopped firing; he was probably reloading.
I saw his foot poking out from behind the other side of that aforementioned short wall and I threw the grenade over to the other side. I aimed to shoot him in the foot now so that he would be hard pressed to get anywhere fast, but that small of a target is pretty difficult; I was about twenty yards away.
Thankfully, he didn’t react quickly enough. He was too busy doing whatever he was doing to notice the grenade landing behind him. The fact that I got about two and a half seconds hang time on the thing probably didn’t help him much either.
After the grenade blew, I put what was left of the man out of his misery.
I checked my timer and saw that it was still frozen at twenty four hours, but I didn’t see anyone when I looked around. Stuck timers happen sometimes, I’ve heard, but that was the only time it happened to me. After making a thorough examination of the lot which I found to be totally empty save for myself, I pressed the call button on my radio.
“Hey Johnny, it’s Gertrude,” Gertrude McMillan’s clear voice came over the radio. “What do you got for me?” She was nice, most of the time, but I still don’t understand why she sent me out with Tim. I guess it was one of those things where she only did it because she knew I could handle it, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was annoying.
“Oh, I got a few things,” I said to her while physically stretching out. “First and foremost, I have a stuck timer. Mind calling corporate for me and getting that fixed?”
“No problem. Need anything else?”
“Yeah, a corpse cart would be nice. Need a few to be picked up.”
“Sure thing.”
“Oh. Could you also send me a couple packs of cigarettes? Only a couple of the holders had a pack on them, and they didn’t have many left.”
“Sure thing, I’ll send them out on the delivery van.”
“And…oh, Tim’s dead. So I’m going to need a replacement for him, if you don’t mind.”
“Ok, sure thing. How does Mary Margaret sound?”
“Who’s that?” Companies are always hiring new holders; they kind of have to.
“She’s a new kid. Fresh out of training.”
“How’d she do?”
“She got high marks for pretty much everything. Almost as good a shot as you are.”
“Oh yeah? Sounds like a challenge.” Gertrude chuckled when I said this. I was smiling because I easily amuse myself.
“Alright, I’ll send her out then. I’ll actually just skip the van and send the cigarettes out with her.”
“Sounds good. Thanks Gertrude.”
“No problem. And good luck.”
“Thanks.” I lit up a cigarette after this conversation and savored the sweet nicotine that filled my lungs. I watched the smoke leave my body and float into the frigid air. For some reason, I find that I’m always calmer during situations that tend to stress other people out.
For example, you’ll remember that I said I had a hard time concentrating due to the cold before Tim and I moved in for the attack. However, I found it easier to think about what needed to be done and how it needed to be done after we went on the offensive. I was calm; it’s like I was made for that job. I think most people are ok before they go in, but they get too excited during the fight. Tim lost his life in that respect.
A news camera floated into the empty lot, thereby joining the pay-per-view cameras that were already filming it. Did I mention that I was the first person ever to hold ten lots? That’s why the pay-per-view was showing the entire twenty four hours live rather than just showing an hour or two of the most exciting clips a day after filming them.
The news camera hovered in front of my face, and a voice emitted from it asking me, “How does it feel to be on the verge of making history?” I recognized the voice immediately. It was James Smith’s which meant I was on his show, live. The red light next to the camera lens confirmed my suspicion.
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