The Runners

Deadeyes

I sit at the table in the RV staring at the laptop screen, racking my brain trying to come up with an acceptable plan for re-acquiring the full data sheet I had on project Dusk. "Goddamn, why is planning so damn hard?" I murmur to myself.

I reach for my bourbon but realize it's empty. I stand up and walk to the fridge and look for something, I settle for some cheap beer.

I sit back down and start thinking again, eventually, Ren walks In on my brainstorming session from hell. "Hey Mist, what are you doing?"

I turn around In my seat and answer, "Trying to come up with a plan."

He opens the fridge and grabs a beer and sits down, "And I assume you're having troubles?"

He tries to twist the cap off the bottle, resulting in him slicing his finger. I offer to open it and he hands it over, "Yeah. My brains fried because of yesterday, speaking of yesterday how's Ries and Sovetsky?" I say as I prop the cap on the edge of the table and smack the cap, opening the bottle and handing the drink to Ren.

He takes a sip of the beer and leans back in his chair. "Oh, they're fine. It didn't really fa-" He leans back too far in his chair causing him to fall backward and yell on the way down.

I nearly spit out my drink watching him do this, I stand up and offer my hand. "Shit, you good?

He grabs my hand and I pull him up. "Yeah I'm fine, just didn't expect that to happen."

We sit and drink for some time, barely talking. My eyes draw back towards his scar. "Hey, how did you actually get that scar?"

He looks at me and gives me a confused look. "I told you, I got burned during an experiment gone wrong. The equipment was faulty."

I lean forward and set my drink down. "The perks of being a good liar Is I know when I'm being lied to, so how did you actually get the scar. I'm not gonna judge if that's what you're worried about."

"Fine." He says as he lies back in his chair. "Might as well say It all at once, the story sounds better when you understand the context." He grabs his beer and takes a giant swig. "I used to run with a massive drug cartel in the isles and a bit of mainland Europe. Nasty fucks if you got on their bad side but weren't so bad if your friends with them."

"What's their name?" I ask.

"The Deadeyes, I always saw the name as pretentious since most of them couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. But back to how I got my scar. So back then I was the top cook for the gang, I was the best they had and they knew it. I was given preferential treatment over most of everyone else. I somehow pissed some people off, I still dont know how. I never flaunted that shit over anyone else"

He sits up and leans forward, clenching his fists. "Some dumbfucks decided they knew better than the current boss and took over. They seized power fairly easily, it was pretty impressive really. But the guy who took over didn't really like me. Apparently, they thought I was being a prick and hunted me down. At this point, I already booked it and went to get my shit to get out of the country. I knew they would come after me. Then I remembered the guy who was in charge, Is a massive psychopath and would go after my family if they couldn't find me."

His face changed from melancholy to a painful grimace at recalling the memory. "I walked into my parent's house, expecting to my ma cooking breakfast and my pa sitting there on his chair reading the paper. But instead, I was treated to the sight of them butchered like animals and a group of bloodthirsty bastards waiting there. I took god knows how many lives before they knocked me out and took me to their little hideout."

He reaches over across the table and grabs my beer, usually, I wouldn't allow this but this time I let him get away with it. "I woke up there and they began torturing me, which is how I got this." He says while gesturing to his scar.

"Pressed my face onto a stove. That's not all they did though, whole lots of things they did. They tortured me so much that I basically don't react to pain all that much."

"Fuck, that's really messed up. How did you get out?" I asked, taking a sip of my beer.

He leans back and kicks his feet up on the table and laughs "Now that's where the story gets interesting. The pipe they chained me to was really rusted and the cuffs I was wearing had decently long chains so I started sawing through the pipe with the chain. I thought either way it would get me out. either the pipe broke, or the chain."

He looks behind him at the trash can and tosses the beer bottle inside, and continues. " I sawed through the pipe and walked to the door and knocked on it, sure enough, someone came in and I wrapped the chain around the back of their neck, kicked them down, and broke their neck. After some time of searching, I got the key and got the fuck outta dodge."

I stand up and walk to the fridge and just grabbed the pack of beer and placed it on the table. "Sounds familiar, It reminds me of what happened to me.

Ren grabs another beer and cracks the cap with the trick I showed him. "What do you mean, what's your story then?"

I open my own bottle and tell him the story of my past. Afterward, he looks nowhere in particular and says. "Well, I guess we're more similar than I once thought. Two guys who were involved in some criminal shit and get betrayed by the group they swore loyalty to.

He chuckles for a moment and adds to his prior statement. "Well let's hope this one sticks, eh?"

I stifle a laugh and agree. We sit there talking for some time until I glance at the clock and realize I was supposed to help Ries with more planning about 15 minutes ago. "Shit. I forgot I was supposed to help Ries with something, we're gonna have cut this off for a bit."

I stand to head outside and Ren shouts jokingly right as I am about to open the door. "It's freezing outside, grab a coat dumbass."

I look back at him and reply with confusion. "Last I checked It wasn't that bad out, did the weather change that quick?"

He laughs loudly for a few seconds and answers. "Dude this is Michigan, the winters are freezing. You better get used to it, We're entering winter. It's only going to get worse."

I shrug and put on my coat, and head outside.