Devil's Gambit

Chapter 31

Lucas lifted his hands tentatively above his shoulders, eyes meeting Daniel's from over the roof of the car. Daniel stared at him in horror, well, not at him, but rather the gun positioned on the back of his head glinting mischievously in the sun.

"Back away from the car real slow," the man growled, and Lucas obeyed, his desperate need to make it back to the house overwhelming his desire to give this clown a snarky attitude. "That's it."

Lucas' breaths shuddered slightly as they left his lungs.

He had rarely felt genuine fear like this in his life, not even while bearing witness to the countless gun fights and stabbings he had encountered in his lifetime of living in the Southside. Even then, those events had an element of order to them, a sense of how those fights begin and then eventually resolve. These people were legitimately unhinged, brainwashed into believing some fringe ideology, loose cannons in every way.

"Now sit on the curb," the man demanded, shoving Lucas forward, causing him to stumble slightly, and the tall man shot a menacing glare over his shoulder. He was finally able to get a good look at the guy, who had a military haircut and a slightly aged face, but any other identifying features were concealed due to the dark aviators over his eyes and black neck gaiter he wore to cover his mouth.

Anyone hiding their identity to that extent clearly had some dubious agenda to carry out.

Still, staring down the barrel of a gun was very persuasive, and Lucas persisted in complying with the man's demands by slumping down onto the curb. Daniel glanced nervously between the man and Lucas, attempting to calculate how much time he'd have to whip open the passenger door and grab the Glock in the glove box; or if that was even the smart thing to do while surrounded by people with guns who hate you to the very core of your being.

Well, Daniel was a gambler, and he didn't like their odds of doing nothing at all.

Gripping the car door handle subtly, Daniel counted to three before ripping it open, ducking inside and throwing open the glove box, all the papers and junk, along with the gun, dumping out yet again onto the floor.

"Hey!" A voice rang out from behind Daniel, and Lucas sucked in a breath as another man outfitted in the same ridiculous attire as the rest of the group grabbed him from behind, manhandling Daniel down to the pavement.

"What the hell is wrong with you people! Can't you just let us go?" Daniel screeched from where he was lying underneath the man, but only received a sucker punch to the face as a response. Lucas jerked at the sounds of his friend getting assaulted, wild eyes looking desperately at the man in front of him, ready to do something absolutely uncharacteristic-

He was gonna beg.

"Please, I know you're angry about certain things, I get it, but we're innocent people and we really just want to get out of your way-"

"Shut up!" The man hissed, gripping the pistol even tighter, his finger curling more around the trigger. "I don't want to hear a fucking word from you!"

If Lucas had already sunk low enough to grovel, he was about to sink even lower by lying through his teeth pandering to the guy.

"Listen, I have a wife at home, she's pregnant with our son. We go to church every Sunday and we're good people. You're voting for Jones Dawson, right? My wife and I are too, we're on your side-"

Lucas' chest squeezed in hope as the man faltered, his arm relaxing slightly. Daniel was still sprawled out and wheezing on the pavement, still feeling the weight of the burly man even though the Northsider had stood up from his body to loom over him. The end was in sight, Lucas could feel it, their opportunity to escape-