Despite the below-freezing temperature, sweat poured through Kenny’s shirt beneath his coat. Was he getting sick or was it just nerves? he wondered. He couldn’t think clearly, not with Greg goading him. “C’mon, you gotta do it! You can’t back out now!”
Kenny sank deeper into the snow-filled ditch beneath the hill. “How come there’s so many of them? It’s only been one guy before. I bet they have guns.”
Greg stuck his head above their shelter, glancing at the black sedans and the dozen men in dark coats. They were smoking cigarettes and laughing. “Doesn’t matter how many there are. You back out now and it’s both our necks!” Greg said.
“You got my money? I haven’t seen the money!” Kenny snapped.
“You get the money after the delivery. You know that. Now go!”
Kenny drew in a deep breath and stood up slowly. He climbed out of the ditch and worked his way through a hole in the chain-link fence. He concentrated on his breathing as the men began to take notice of him. Each of them simultaneously unbuttoned his coat and placed one hand gently inside and rested it there. They’ve got guns all right. I should’ve gone to school. This is the last delivery I do for this guy. I should never’ve gotten into this mess. Kenny took in his surroundings as he continued reluctantly toward the group. He’d watched enough movies to know that somewhere there had to be men on the lookout for cops. The railroad yard had been closed for years. Kenny spied several rust-covered trash cans in the distance. There were bodies huddled around them. A spark of light could be seen every few seconds, no doubt the homeless trying to start a fire in an effort to keep warm. Don’t they see these guys here? I’d be gone if I were them.
“Hey, kid—you lost?”
Kenny wasn’t sure which dark coat the voice came from, so he just stared straight ahead. “Nope. Got a delivery to make.”
“Well, then, get on with it. We’re gettin’ tired of bein’ in this miserable weather.” Sleet began its descent as he waved Kenny on.
Kenny maneuvered past two men standing at the rear of the car. There was an unexpected jerking from inside the car, drawing Kenny’s eyes to the movement. The brawny man who appeared to be Kenny’s contact directed Kenny’s face back to him, but not before Kenny had taken a look inside. Wide, frightened eyes and a duct-taped mouth stared back until another man in the car moved forward.
“Hey, you mind your business now, boy. If you got something for me, you’d better be getting to it.” Kenny’s contact placed his muscular frame in front of the window.
Kenny removed a small pouch from inside his layers. It was moist now from sweat. He tossed it to the man and turned around, slowly making his way back to the fence.
The large man leaned in as the passenger window was rolled down. Kenny could hear muffled voices, and then someone called him. He kept moving; he knew that was the rule—no matter what, keep moving.
“Hey, kid! I’m talkin’ to you. Now get back here!”
Kenny picked up his pace. He was certain that he could outrun most of them if he could just get through that fence and into the woods. His eyes barely focused on the waving arms before him. What was Greg saying? Kenny couldn’t hear him over his own breathing. His heart was racing. Then the sound of a shot pierced his ears. He’d heard gunshots on TV before, but never in real life. The sound surprised him; it was nothing like on TV. Were the shots directed at him? Kenny ran as fast as he could on the snow-covered ground. He could hear engines roaring behind him. Where is Greg? Did he leave me? He decided not to look back and focused on the fence instead. Don’t freeze up. Just keep moving, he warned himself. He repeated those words all through the woods and into town.