It had been at least a week since he'd made the deal. Louis stood behind the counter like a statue for a moment. The boss just had to ask him to do third shift this week, didn't he? The gas station was barren except for him. The portable TV on the counter barely caught a signal tonight, its crooked rabbit ears occasionally nudging his ribs in the small space.
He glanced at the clock for confirmation... 1:47 A.M. Louis broke into a cold sweat as he stared at the clock. He wondered about sliding out the back door, and just leaving the station unattended. Locking the front door and just taking off. But where would he go? He had barely any money and he gave the killer his address the day he ordered it all up. I sent him that down payment of 2000, but he wanted 10,000 upfront. Maybe... he wouldn't buy the offer; just take the money and never show.
Louis thought this in an effort to console himself as he sat down on the brittle stool that rested behind the counter top. He sighed after a few tense moments, and, after turning off the security cameras' DVD player, he wandered the aisle in the liquor section. Grabbing a pint bottle of vodka, he proceeded to move to the soda machine.
40 ounces of fruit punch, and a solid splash of vodka, a pack of caffeine pills, and Louis returned languidly to his post. It was a slow night after all. He fiddled with the rabbit ears on the TV, only to land on a rerun of Real Prostitutes of Portland. Getting more inebriated as the show went on, he leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes.
A reflection of light bounced around the store, causing him to stir a while later.
Headlights outside Louis realized as he awoke. He glanced at the clock yet again...
2:55.
Louis looked outside, to see a black pickup sitting at one of the pumps. No one had gotten out yet. He watched it idle for a moment, the exhaust note slightly reverberating through the windows. The windows were tinted too, so Louis really couldn't tell who...
Louis realized who it might be, the blood draining from his face in numb horror. He glanced around for anything he could use on short notice, he kept a ball bat under the shelves next to him. Not that it would do anything against bullets.
The door's opening now
Louis snapped up to look at the man which had entered the store. He looked like no joke; 6'1" and broad as a barn. The stained denim jacket with a Dixie flag stamped onto the back draped his frame. Louis watched him study something near the back of the store, then begin the walk to the front. He wiped the sweat from his brow as the man lumbered up to the counter.
"What can I get you?" Louis asked meekly. The man placed a bag of chips on the counter in front of him, his heavy breath literally making the hairs on Louis' arms stand in anticipation of a move.
"Pack of Red Lights back there." The man pointed past him at the cigarette shelves. Louis slowly turned and fished the pack from the stand; he could hear the movement behind him. He gripped the pack tightly and turned back around, the man remaining stoic at the register.
"That's $9.85." Louis said in a slight whimper. The man reached behind his back, Louis cringing as he watched. The man produced a billfold and rolled a couple of fives onto the counter. Louis breathed a sigh of relief, perplexing even his customer. He quickly gave the man his change and watched him leave.
"Oh thank God." Louis breathed as the man walked out. A woman on a sport bike pulled up as the truck left. Louis glanced at the clock again to see how far he'd made it.
3:02.
Beautiful. Maybe it was the vodka, but Louis was feeling pretty relaxed about things now. Another car had pulled up for gas and the guy was already filling up at the pump. It seemed like a normal night after all. The woman had entered the store while Louis studied the car outside. Louis turned his attraction to her as she approached the counter next.
"Long night huh?" The woman asked him in an impressively sensual tone. Louis studied her half-buzzed for a moment as he rang up the soda she set on the counter. Her tone physique was still noticeable under her baggy racing jacket and road armor, she had eyes he could swim in. In another world, Louis wonders what could’ve been.
"You can say that again." Louis scoffed almost flirting, as he fished for more change in the drawer.
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know what time it is? Would you?" The woman chimed in yet again nearby as he broke open a pack of coins.
"Yeah, it's 3:02." Louis noted yet again as he stared at the register.
Wait... 3:02? 302? Hey... Weird... I got that same number while trying to contact that hitman back Sunday night. Just an email with 302 in it- Isn’t today March 1st? No; it’s March 2nd now. It’s 3/02… He realized a sudden possibility with numb horror, and it was soon confirmed.
-ch-chuk-
Louis glanced up to see the woman casually palming a sawn-off shotgun, at which point he could only freeze in shock as she raised the gun to a level just below his chin.
"Louis Baker?" She inquired softly as she watched him nod sadly, "I'll take the rest of my fee now. I don’t usually do down payments, but it’s been a dry month for me."
"I-I don't have anymore money." Louis cried to himself, "I just work at this store."
"Figures." The girl hesitated in disappointment before taking aim again, "Oh well. Guess I'll have to settle for 2 grand this time." The door chime attracted both their attention as the door swung open. The driver of the car could only muster a startled mumble before the woman squeezed a round off, the shotgun producing cannon fire in the small room. The shot scattered high and wide; hitting him in the chest and shoulders; some pellets struck the man in the cheek, the round peeling thick chunks of brain matter onto the wall next to the door.
As the body crumpled, the woman spun again to find Louis rapidly staggering out the side door. Half-drunk and high on adrenaline, he quickly ran feverishly into the dark alleys surrounding the store. He once again heard the familiar rack of the slide. He moved out of the doorway and could feel a chunk of the drywall being blown off behind him. The woman gave chase to the doorway, eventually lowering her aim. She couldn’t see him in the darkness. Louis had given her the slip. He wasn't out of the woods yet though, by a long shot. She dressed the scene quickly, stealing the cash from the register, and destroying the dvd player running the cameras. She glanced once more at the poor bastard who’d walked in on their encounter. Shit; he didn’t have that coming to him. Wrong place at the right time. She quickly glanced into his car to make sure he was alone when he arrived. Tucking the shotgun back into her improvised holster as she exited the store, she got on her bike, dawned her helmet for a second time, and calmly left the scene.