CreepyFrank
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jan 14, 2017
- Posts
- 139
Quarter to eleven, I'm rolling down Water Street. The streetlights are all out, and I weave slowly around the worst of the potholes. The houses are all dark, narrow, clustered tight against the street. They're all full of rats and roaches, and I am talking about the people when I say that. Occasionally I'll see one, teenage kids who are hardened criminals, junkies, drunks, and so on. Tonight there's a scary-looking hooker, the type I wouldn't touch if you paid me. She waves and I shudder with revulsion and put my foot down a little harder on the gas pedal.
I turn down Thorntree Road, which isn't much more than an alley between a couple of condemned houses. Behind them is the yard. It's where every car towed in the city winds up. My lovely fucking job. People say I'm lucky to have a job, but I don't see any of them lining up to pull graveyard shifts in this neighborhood. I hit the horn, but Mike, the evening guy is probably in the trailer, watching TV with the volume up, so I have no choice. I put the truck in park and look around me. It's too dark to see into all the shadows, so I cross my fingers and jump out. I hit the buzzer by the gate and run back to the truck.
Jack and Jill, the two rotties that watch the yard, come charging out of their kennels, snarling, slobber flying everywhere. Once, a few months back, some asshole jumped the fence, razorwire and all, thinking to steal a car or just hold us up or whatever. The dogs got him. They took him away in an ambulance, and Carlo brought the dogs steak for breakfast the next morning.
The trailer door opens a crack, and I turn the headlights off so Mike can see it's my truck. He walks slowly from the trailer to the gate, looking stoned and confused, which he is. The dogs jostle against his legs, but he just whistles and they settle down. He unlocks the padlock on the gate and pulls it open, and I roll in. I pull the truck around behind the trailer and Mike and I talk for a few minutes about the night. How many cars in, how many out, no gunshots tonight, any stories to tell, but he obviously wants out of here, and who can blame him?
He drives off, and I lock the gate behind him. I don't have the trick of whistling the dogs down, so I have to practically drag them back to their kennel, and then I get my shotgun from the truck. I'm not supposed to bring it, but I'm not taking any chances around here.
I turn on the late night shows and try to relax. I wish I could get high, but it makes me paranoid at the best of circumstances, and this is not the best of circumstances. Every time I start to settle down, someone hits the buzzer, the dogs go charging out, and I have to check. Mostly it's the tow trucks bringing cars in. Not too many people pick up this time of night, they generally come in the morning, which is nice for me. Nobody's in the best mood when they're paying a hundred bucks to get their car out of the tow yard.
I shoot the shit with the drivers, but they don't stay long. They have to go out and bring more cars in. After a while, it slows down. Only one tow comes in between 2 and 3am. I sit on the filthy couch in the trailer, watching some old zombie flick, trying not to fall all the way asleep. It's close to 4 when I wake up.
The buzzer. The dogs. I shake my head and grab the shotgun, and go to the trailer door. I open it just enough to peek out, and I can't believe what I'm seeing. I must be dreaming, I think. I don't even fantasize about girls that hot, and the way she's dressed, holy shit. I come out of the trailer in a kind of dream. I whistle, but Jack and Jill ignore it, so I walk with them to the gate. My paranoia kicks in, and I wonder if she's bait for some kind of a scam, but as far as I can see, she's alone.
She doesn't look happy to see me, but I can't blame her. I'm a big guy, 6'4" and heavy with muscle. I need a shave and my face looks like I've been in a few fights. I have. As it turns out, a lot of guys want to prove themselves by going after the biggest guy around, and most of the times that's me. In a place like this, it makes me not so different from Jack and Jill. I look mean. I am.
"What?" I say. It comes out a threat. I just woke up, I've got a head full of zombies and thieves, and I don't know if I should be scared of this girl or finding religion, she's so damned hot.
I turn down Thorntree Road, which isn't much more than an alley between a couple of condemned houses. Behind them is the yard. It's where every car towed in the city winds up. My lovely fucking job. People say I'm lucky to have a job, but I don't see any of them lining up to pull graveyard shifts in this neighborhood. I hit the horn, but Mike, the evening guy is probably in the trailer, watching TV with the volume up, so I have no choice. I put the truck in park and look around me. It's too dark to see into all the shadows, so I cross my fingers and jump out. I hit the buzzer by the gate and run back to the truck.
Jack and Jill, the two rotties that watch the yard, come charging out of their kennels, snarling, slobber flying everywhere. Once, a few months back, some asshole jumped the fence, razorwire and all, thinking to steal a car or just hold us up or whatever. The dogs got him. They took him away in an ambulance, and Carlo brought the dogs steak for breakfast the next morning.
The trailer door opens a crack, and I turn the headlights off so Mike can see it's my truck. He walks slowly from the trailer to the gate, looking stoned and confused, which he is. The dogs jostle against his legs, but he just whistles and they settle down. He unlocks the padlock on the gate and pulls it open, and I roll in. I pull the truck around behind the trailer and Mike and I talk for a few minutes about the night. How many cars in, how many out, no gunshots tonight, any stories to tell, but he obviously wants out of here, and who can blame him?
He drives off, and I lock the gate behind him. I don't have the trick of whistling the dogs down, so I have to practically drag them back to their kennel, and then I get my shotgun from the truck. I'm not supposed to bring it, but I'm not taking any chances around here.
I turn on the late night shows and try to relax. I wish I could get high, but it makes me paranoid at the best of circumstances, and this is not the best of circumstances. Every time I start to settle down, someone hits the buzzer, the dogs go charging out, and I have to check. Mostly it's the tow trucks bringing cars in. Not too many people pick up this time of night, they generally come in the morning, which is nice for me. Nobody's in the best mood when they're paying a hundred bucks to get their car out of the tow yard.
I shoot the shit with the drivers, but they don't stay long. They have to go out and bring more cars in. After a while, it slows down. Only one tow comes in between 2 and 3am. I sit on the filthy couch in the trailer, watching some old zombie flick, trying not to fall all the way asleep. It's close to 4 when I wake up.
The buzzer. The dogs. I shake my head and grab the shotgun, and go to the trailer door. I open it just enough to peek out, and I can't believe what I'm seeing. I must be dreaming, I think. I don't even fantasize about girls that hot, and the way she's dressed, holy shit. I come out of the trailer in a kind of dream. I whistle, but Jack and Jill ignore it, so I walk with them to the gate. My paranoia kicks in, and I wonder if she's bait for some kind of a scam, but as far as I can see, she's alone.
She doesn't look happy to see me, but I can't blame her. I'm a big guy, 6'4" and heavy with muscle. I need a shave and my face looks like I've been in a few fights. I have. As it turns out, a lot of guys want to prove themselves by going after the biggest guy around, and most of the times that's me. In a place like this, it makes me not so different from Jack and Jill. I look mean. I am.
"What?" I say. It comes out a threat. I just woke up, I've got a head full of zombies and thieves, and I don't know if I should be scared of this girl or finding religion, she's so damned hot.