Shadow Ballet- Betrayal

1

“I feel a rat walking on my corpse. The blood on my skin… I can smell the soil. There is a song in my ears disturbing in insolence the silence of the forest. It is not your beautiful voice. I want to cover my ears… but I cannot move.”
“Is it death?”
“Death? No, I have not seen it yet!”
 
 
 
 
1965, Atlantic City
Jerry had a slight swaying in the truck lit only by a few holes. His sight was stuck on the ceiling of the dark box he was inside. He did not seem sad, scared, regretful or ruined. Maybe just a little bit tired. It was impossible to understand anything from the expression of his face that did not reflect anything. Completely unreadable.
Although thoughts screeched his mind almost painfully, he was so calm and empty. Maybe he had lost his mind! Even so, it was still not enough to silence the tantalizing whispers that were exhaustingly never-ending. The mesmeric voices echoing through his head kept coming and wrapping themselves around his brain. The sound of deafening gunshots, the deep voice spelling his name “Jerry...”, his shout, “Was it that easy?”
Those all echoed his head one by one. It felt like he was alone in that big dark box. He, and the demons inside him. If the stifling smell of dust and sweat in the truck did not disturb his nose, he almost would have forgotten the presence of the other ten prisoners.
Jerry stirred from his trance at a sharp jolt of the truck, his mind replaying the voices over and over again. He looked around. The men around him were mustached, capped, middle-aged, weak and old men, except for two of them. They were just ignorant, very young men. Moreover, they had not even realized what they had been doing there.
There was one more young man. He was red-haired and freckled — an interesting ginger man. However, Jerry was different from all of them. His clothes were expensive despite being dirty and bloody. His stubble, his longish brown hair, pretty fair skin, and his big amber eyes, each one of those was a part of his suave. Though he was only twenty-six, his glances were so mature and deep. He was different with his everything indeed. How could he not be? He was the only one who had a black eye!
He looked them up and down while two of the prisoners were talking. Jerry was very calm in his mind, but finally, he gave an ear to them.
“Where are they taking us, brother?” one of the young guys asked the man across from him.
“We go to the big prison! I think it's your first time. Don't worry. Every time it gets easier. Life goes on, man.”
Jerry watched the red-haired man. Redhead shook his leg, his hands between his knees, tapping the chair with his handcuffs in precisely the same rhythm.
Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick… The damn sound sounded more and more slowly, echoing in Jerry's ear.
Catching Jerry's glances, Red glared at him. “What the hell are you looking at dickhead?” He had a fast and interesting accent that made it clear he was a gypsy the first second he opened his mouth. There was also a broad Russian accent. It had to be a Russian gypsy. There were plenty of them around these days.
Jerry did not even bother to answer. He rested his head against the truck again. He stared at the ceiling, keeping his handcuffed hands between his knees. Go and fuck yourself. He thought while closing his eyes.
“Hey. I'm talking to you. They got the shit duffed outta you! Don’t fucking make me do the same! Look at that rich bastard! The gentleman does not deem us worthy of spending a word!”
Do not push me scum. Jerry's calmness was an illusion. While trying hard to look calm, his eyes closed, Jerry tore apart the broken wooden pieces under the chair.
In a moment everyone was shaken by the sudden break of the truck. Jerry opened his eyes with the screams he heard.
All the prisoners looked at each other in fear. Jerry got up and started looking through the holes. The vision was not clear at all. He saw one masked man pointing a gun at the other two men beside the truck.
Red barged in. “What do you see, motherfucker? I'll look up! Move!” he yelled, stepping toward Jerry from his back.
He intended to put his handcuffs on Jerry's shoulder, but Jerry turned up, grabbing his arm firmly. “Sit the fuck down, or I'll make you!” He frowned his eyebrows and added, “And you speak like my ass!”
Red attacked Jerry full of anger. Jerry bowed then headbutted him. Red cursing, probably in Russian, straightened. For a few seconds, Jerry and Red glared at each other. Jerry finally had let the rage in his eyes free.
Jerry was a man worthy of being known! Of course, there were countless words to describe him, but ‘calm’ certainly was not one of them.
Red touched his bleeding lip. When planning to respond, three gunshots sounded. Both figures froze for a few moments when the door of the truck opened. All prisoners turned their heads, and the dim light leaking inside hit the faces of Red and Jerry.
One of the masked men looked at them, pointing his rifle. “Get out!”
The prisoners went down one by one, including Jerry and Red.  They were in a wooded area, on a forest road.
The masked man began to laugh as he unclamped Red’s handcuffs. “Pesha is waiting for you, Boyko!”
Red Boyko looked at the masked man while rubbing his wrists. “Unclamp the others too,” he said. Seeing that the masked man looked askance, Boyko repeated his words, tougher this time, “I said, unclamp them too!”
There was a slight cheering from the other prisoners. “God bless you! Son… Dude! That is a man!”
Boyko smiled and took two cigarettes from the masked man's jacket. He put one in his mouth and one behind his ear. He walked toward Jerry, and then he stopped in front of him and smirked. It could not be more priggish. “What shall we do with this one?” Boyko asked. He waited for a few beats for emphasis, looking at Jerry, and then he talked, “Yeah… unclamp this one too.”
Jerry did not take his eyes off Boyko when the masked man unclamped his handcuffs. However, Boyko turned his back on him and made his way toward the car waiting for him ahead. He raised his hand as he walked without looking back. “Have a nice life people!”
“You, too! May God bless you, boy! Thank you! Thank you!” they said all together.
Boyko continued to speak without looking back, “If you want to pay your debt, rich bastard, find me in Philadelphia! No matter whom you ask, they will tell you."
The crowd around Jerry crashed through the forest. They got lost in the shadows of the bare trees falling across the ground in seconds. Jerry was the only one who walked into the woods without running and with a hand in his pocket. It was something about him. He had a certain je ne sais quoi.