“I know you hearin’ me, boy,” the officer spoke quietly, his voice full of menace.

“Now, ah tell you again, you gon’ put that gun in your hand down right this second, I say right this second, boy. ‘Cos I’m gon give you two options, just the two now y’hear?”

The sweat on the boy’s brow leaked down past his glaring eyes. Hate filled the pupils and spilled forth like oil from a drum. It was the look of a madman. A look that Office Lincoln was only too well aware of.

“Option one, and I think this gon’ definitely be your favourite, is you put that damn gun donw, like I’m telling you too real nice, and I let you scurry off outta here. It’ll be like you was never anywhere near these parts. That officer in your arms, my friend by the way, won’t never tell no one about this either. He’s not the type of man that goes hunting for revenge, he’s not like you and me.

“Option two. Well option two ain’t such a nice option, not for me or for you. Do you wanna hear it?”

His voice was calm and concise, every word dripped with the very real threat of how this situation would end.

“Well I’m gon’ tell you anyhow. Option two is that you’ll pull that fine lookin’ trigger you got all sweaty from your finger tips and put a nice metal slug in my friends head. He gon’ die and I’m gon’ get real, real mad. I’m gon squeeze my own trigger, right here,” he tapped on the trigger he was squeezing lightly, “and put a nice slug of my own in your leg.

“I’m then gon’ come over there and put these shiny little handcuffs on your wrists – I’ll wrestle you down if I have too – and we gon’ find out what real vengeance looks like.”

The air whistled through the cracks in the concrete walls of the old harbor building. The smell of salt mixed it’s way in with the scent of the fresh fish that had been loaded the morning before. The floorboards were damp and sagging. Wood needed a lot of upkeep this close to the water but no one had owned this building in over fifty years. Officer Lincoln knew they would be alone.

“Now, boy, I’m not gon’ repeat myself. You got only one way outta here, and that;s by showing some of The Lord’s finest mercy, cos’ you know you aint leaving here alive any other way. You know what I’m gon’ do to you as soon as I get these handcuffs on. I’m gon’ do what I did to you parents all dem’ years ago. “

The boys finger tightened on the trigger at the mention of his parents. It had been many years since he had last saw, the now office, Lincoln and he had changed so much. His gut had grown and a mustache now covered the scar he had from lip to nostril but his eyes were the same. The eyes of a madman. It had been the only way he had known to find his parents killer – how could he have ever forgot?

“You know I ‘aint no liar, boy. And I know you ‘aint no killer. That man you got trussed up like an old stag got some little ‘uns of his own. Marcy and Jacob, they’s called. You gon’ do to them what I did to you?”

They boys breathing grew heavier as the weight of the choice pressed down on him. Lincoln had gotten him into this situation and now he had now idea how to get himself out. If Lincoln had just walked through the door first, this would all have been over. They would both be burning in hell together right about now. But he hadn’t, the coward.

His finger rested on the trigger as he stared into the eyes of his parent’s killer.


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