by Laurèn Lee
I put some plastic blankets down in the car to prevent any of my DNA sticking to the interior, too. However, it wouldn’t be hard sell if any of my DNA did show up in this Chevy. I did work at the garage and could have easily worked on this car. Reasonable doubt, that’s all a jury needed.
Once I fastened my seatbelt and turned on the radio; it was time to drive to the trailer park. The park, widely known as a human trash dump filled with druggies and prostitutes, was located just outside the city limits, like many of my jobs.
I’d peeled out onto the highway and knew only a few short miles separated me from taking a few more lives. I had the windows down and the radio blasted The Foo Fighters. Damn, I loved those guys.
I checked the map on the passenger seat to see if I was close; remember, I couldn’t look up anything on my own phone in case someone ever wanted to check my browsing history. Plus, I’d left my phone at home anyway. Many times, I wanted to bring my phone with me, just in case Sammy ever had an emergency and had to get a hold of me. Reluctantly, though, I told Sammy if he ever needed me that badly when I was on a job to call Uncle Ronnie and he’d take care of him. It nearly broke me to have to tell my little brother I couldn’t help him if he needed me, but I had to make sure all my loose ends were always tied up in a neat and tidy bow.
The map showed I had less than a mile left until I’d make the harsh right turn into the trailer park. It was a damn lucky thing I had that map, too, because I nearly missed the turn. The driveway for the park had no signage except for a yellowed piece of cloth tied around a tree just before the turn.
I pulled into the park and sneered; it was even a bigger dump than I’d imagined. Trash littered the dirt road and I could see dirty diapers, empty beer cans, moldy pizza boxes, among the garbage. I hastily rolled my window up. I imagined the smell outside would be strong enough to knock out an ox.
I found the trailer in question and made sure to park under a beautifully sad willow tree just off the path. The long vines concealed my rental vehicle enough to hopefully avoid any suspicion. Also, the sun had begun to set and so my presence would be even more discreet.
Sometimes, I wondered why a person would want another dead. Why they’d hire someone to do their dirty work. If I had wanted someone dead, it meant I hated them enough not to care about wiping them off the earth. I imagined if I ever felt that hate, I would want to take the life of that person with my own two hands.
Now, the fun part had begun; I had to scope out this trailer and see how many targets I had to eliminate. I knew there couldn’t be more than ten because my boss would have sent another soldier to help me. I could manage under ten on my own if I had to, but any more than that required a little help from my fellow hitmen.
I set my eyes on the trailer and casually walked over to the unit to inspect the situation. There were lights on inside and Christmas lights strung outside under the trailer’s awning which hung low, filled with leaves and rotting animal carcasses by the smell.
Carefully, I peeked into the trailer and saw one, two, three, four, five men huddled around a plastic table. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have figured a bunch of homeless men were squatting in the trailer; their beards were long and untidied, they each wore mismatched clothing assumedly plucked from the Salvation Army sale rack, and their pupils were entirely black.
One of the men shifted in position and I saw what they’d gathered around: a glass pipe.
Oh, great. A bunch of deadbeat meth heads. This shouldn’t take too long.
I’d taken out several addicts in my past. I would bet more than half of my portfolio included these types of soul-sucking assholes. Most of ‘em had either stolen drugs or refused to pay back their dealers who had no desire to seek retribution themselves, so they hired me.
Historically, these jobs were quick because the targets were usually too stoned to even comprehend what was going on. I imagined this one would take me about a half hour, tops. The hardest part would be confronting them without any suspicion. If I had the angle, I would’ve just stood outside the trailer and picked ‘em off one by one out here. But, my position wasn’t great so, I had to adjust.
The sun had completely sunken below the horizon now, so I had my night vision goggles atop my head. I had an idea to lure one of the men outside, and it was so crazy it might just work. I pulled out my burner phone and opened the folder which housed my preloaded media files. I found the one I’d been looking for and pressed play.
Laughter exploded from my phone speakers as the sounds of several girls’ giggling and shouting echoed throughout the night. I’d bent down below the trailer window in a long-forgotten garden to hide, but I heard the distinct screech of chairs shifting once the track played.
I heard one of them say, “Hear that, boys? Sounds like there’s some pretty ladies outside!”
I snickered to myself. These motherfuckers were as dumb as they looked.
“It’s probably Kara and Sandy trying to start some trouble.”
The laughter continued on my phone which thankfully, masked the inescapable sounds of my own laughter.
“What time did you tell folks to start heading over?” One man asked the others.
“Not for another hour. I thought we were going to get as stoned as possible first before we’d wanna share.”
“Ed, go check outside and see who it is? If it’s the girls, just invite ‘em in, okay?”
And the weakest link had been chosen.
I crept to the front door and stood on the side of the beaten down trailer so when this Ed guy opened the door, I’d be temporarily hidden. I took something out of my bag, ready to eliminate my first victim.
As expected, the door swung open and tall, lanky man wearing a dark colored bandana stepped out. Before he had the chance to call out for the imaginary girls he searched for, I took the wire in my hands, rushed toward his back, and pulled the wire around his neck. He’d never know what hit him.
In the first few seconds, he struggled but I stood my ground. Even though he was slightly taller than me, our strength wasn’t comparable. His arms flung around like a kite in the wind trying to grab for me, but he couldn’t reach. I nearly gagged as I held his body against mine; the stench emanating from him reeked of sweat, stale cigarettes and whiskey. Heavy on the sweat, though.
In less than a minute, his body had gone limp and I dragged him to the side of the trailer and gently set him down in the bushes. Still wearing my gloves, I reached down and took two fingers to check his pulse; there wasn’t one.
One down, four to go.
I knew it would only be a matter of time before another man or two would come out and look for their buddy. I hoped the entire group wouldn’t come out, but I figured the leader would send another one of his lower-level status minions to investigate.
If I could use the wire again, that would be fucking fantastic. I didn’t want to use my guns unless it was one hundred and ten percent necessary and using a knife would be far too messy. Again, I crept to my post underneath the trailer’s window and waited to hear the sounds and voices of the motley crew inside.
“Where’s Ed?”
“He probably tripped and fell in the creek back by the shed,” another man howled.
“He better not be giving away any of our drugs to those girls,” one said.
“Jake, why don’t you go check on that idiot. I should have never sent him outside to begin with.”
Phew. Just one would be coming out again.
I dashed back to my post just on the side of the trailer’s door again and waited for poor Jake to come outside. Just as with Ed, Jake stumbled out of the trailer and peered around looking for Ed and the mysterious trailer park girls.
Once I’d gotten a good look at Jake, though, I realized this wouldn’t be as easy as before; he stood not only about half a foot taller than me, but he had about fifty pounds on me, too. No, the wire wouldn’t work for this fella.
As quietly as I could be, I pulled out a special k
ind of gun from my backpack while Jake wandered around the front yard calling out for Ed. I nodded my head sharply enough for my night-vision goggles to fall into place. Jake only stood about twenty feet away from me now. I took my gun, aimed, and shot.
Of course, no sound erupted from my gun, because it was merely a dart gun. Jake felt the impact of the dart and immediately felt for the back of his neck, but before he could pull the dart out, he staggered left, staggered right, and fell forward on his face.
Got ‘em!
I jogged over to where the sleeping giant lay and pulled the dart out of his neck. He’d be down for at least a few hours, until the drugs kicked in and he’d surely never wake up. I had a special mix in my darts and they’d kill a full-size elephant in no time. This guy had no chance at waking up.
Two down…
I knew the rest of the men in the trailer would grow nervous and suspicious with two of their buddies now absent. I imagined their anxiety would be even more heightened considering I could smell the smoke from the meth piling out of the windows. I’d take ‘em down much easier now. They’d have no shot at surviving my wrath as high as I only figured they’d be.
“Oh, what the fuck!” the assumed leader of the lost boys called out.
“Maybe these chicks have magical pussies?”
A slap and a cry of pain rang out respectively. “Grab your pieces, boys. Let’s find out what the fuck is going on out there!”
28
Serenity
I had to call a cab to take me to the party. Ma and I didn’t have a car. Usually, I’d borrowed Joey’s car in case of emergency, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be seeing his punk ass around for a long time. I’m certain Wayne had scared him away for good. I was free. But, that meant I didn’t have any easy means of transportation.
I really didn’t want to pay for the cab, but it was my only option at this point. The bus lines didn’t go outside the city limits and it’s not like I had any friends who would’ve wanted to take me to some trailer park to sell drugs to a bunch of country bumpkins.
“Hi,” the cabbie called back once I got inside. “Where to?”
“The old trailer park on Highway 31.”
I saw the older man wrinkle his nose in the rear-view mirror.
“What?” I asked.
“Why ya goin’ all the way out der?”
“Visiting some friends,” I said quietly.
The cabbie muttered under his breath about “trash” and “desperate girl.” I ignored him, though, because I knew I’d be leaving this party with more cash than he’d make in an entire month as a driver. Sure, these trailer trash guys couldn’t afford a real home or even a clean shirt, but they always found a way to afford their next score.
As we approached the entrance to the trailer park, the driver pulled over and turned around expectantly with his hand held out.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m dropping you off here. I ain’t going inside that park.”
I groaned, but pulled out my wallet and paid him for the fare, plus a very small tip. I heard him calling out as I walked down the drive.
“Cheap little girl!”
I turned around and curtsied for the driver before I gave him the middle finger and continued on my journey to the hillbilly party. As I walked down the path, I put my arms around my body, and tried to control my shivering. I didn’t expect the night to cool down so drastically. My black ripped denim jeans and matching black crop top didn’t provide much cover. The tiny blonde hairs on my arm stood to attention despite my efforts to warm myself up.
The park didn’t feel all too different from Cranberry Lane. Music blared from different trailers and I felt as though I was in a college frat house neighborhood. You know, if I’d ever gone to college, I’m sure this is what it would have felt like. Beer cans littered the path and I even noticed a few empty condom wrappers in the moonlight.
I checked my phone to see what time it was and realized I was a little earlier than I should have been, but who cares? The sooner I got into the party, the sooner I could leave.
I patted my purse to triple check I had my stash and continued to walk in hopes of finding the right trailer. Without warning, an ear-ringing shot rang out into the night sending flocks of birds racing desperately into the sky.
What the fuck?
It had to be some drunk jackasses playing target practice and passing around the bottle, right? I kept on walking until I heard shouting and cries of pain. A shiver ran down my back and I suddenly felt as though I’d made a huge mistake by coming here.
What was going on?
I should have turned back. I should have called that nasty cab driver and asked him to turn around. I’d pay double this time if he could just come back and pick me up.
Two more gunshots rang out and a hushed silence swept over the trailer park as though all the tenants had simultaneously turned off their music to hear what all the commotion was about.
“I’ll fucking kill you, you motherfucker!”
And, another gunshot.
My heart pounded in my chest and a slick layer of sweat covered my forehead and neck despite the cool temperature of the night air. I whipped my head around trying to see if I could find the scuffle, but all had gone quiet, now. No more gun shots, no more howling, no more disturbance. The rest of the park turned their music back up and their partying continued.
Maybe I could still go to that party? Surely, it would have to be a ridiculous coincidence that the fight happened to be where I was headed. Then again, I was on my way to deal drugs to a bunch of addicts. And, they aren’t the calmest and most reliable people.
I trotted another hundred yards until I came across the trailer which I was sure had to be my destination. Christmas lights twinkled outside, and I heard the radio blaring from inside. Kid Rock crooned through the windows and I smelled the familiar scent of smoke.
I heaved a sigh of relief and approached the trailer, ready to get this all over with. In the dark, I failed to notice a huge lump in front of me and I toppled over the log and fell flat on my face.
“Fuck!” I called out. My poor face had taken a beating this week.
The pain from landing so harshly caused my eyes to water so profusely, I could’ve been crying. I stood, though, and brushed myself off. I hoped I didn’t cause any additional bodily damage to myself. Hell, I’d already lost a tooth this week.
I went to kick the log out of anger for being in my way, but once my foot connected with it, I quickly realized it wasn’t a log at all.
“What the fuck?” I whispered to myself.
I bent down and noticed it absolutely wasn’t a log, but a grown ass man who didn’t appear to be breathing. Kneeling, I shook the guy trying to wake him up. Motherfucker was so stoned he passed out trying to get a smoke or something.
No matter how many times I grabbed the guy and tried to stir him, he remained limp and lifeless. I remembered in Health Class something about checking a pulse on a person’s wrist or neck. I pulled the guy’s arm so it stretched out onto the dirt and searched for a pulse. I couldn’t find one.
Am I doing this right? Damn it, I should have paid more attention in class.
I checked his neck. Still, no pulse. And then it dawned on me, this guy didn’t have a pulse because he was dead! The realization slapped me across the face and I leaped back, and crawled far away.
And, I thought Cranberry Lane was bad, but this place had dead motherfuckers just lying in the street!
Again, I stood and brushed myself off. Surely, my outfit was disgusting by this point after falling into the dirt and now touching a dead man. Behind me, I heard a crack of a stick and before I could turn around two hands covered my mouth from behind.
I tried to scream, I tried to squirm, but it was no use. The man holding me was far too strong for me to escape. I kicked behind me as hard as I could and felt the man’s grip slacken; I’d kicked his shin with my Converse sneakers.
�
�Sonofabitch!” he grunted.
Still covering my mouth, I tried a new tactic and bit his fingers as hard as I could. His grip slackened even more. He huffed and puffed, but wouldn’t let me go. He picked me up and my legs dangled above the ground. I tried to kick him again, but I was losing oxygen and fast. Lightheadedness took over and my vision became clouded with tiny white bursts.
This is it. This is how I’m going to die, in a shitty trailer park in a shitty part of a town trying to sell drugs to other shitty people. The perfect ending to my shitty life.
As I felt unconsciousness about to take hold, the man dropped me on the ground. I rubbed my throat and sucked in as much air as my lungs could absorb. I tried crawling away, knowing it was useless. He’d come after me again once he licked his wounds.
“Serenity?”
He knows my name?
I grunted, still unable to catch my breath enough to speak.
“Is that you?”
I turned over, laid on my back and looked up in the eyes of a man I knew. I looked up and saw Wayne staring down at me.
“Wayne?” I whispered, terrified.
“Oh, my God! Are you okay?” He lunged to pick me up, but I cringed as tears poured down my filthy cheeks.
In the distance, sirens had begun to ring out becoming louder and louder.
“We have to get out of here! Come with me!”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. You just tried to kill me!” My voice grew stronger.
He stumbled over his words, “I, uh, I’m so sorry, Serenity. I didn’t know it was you. I swear. I’d never hurt you!”
“So, you just thought you’d strangle some chick out here in the middle of the night? Wait, why are you out here anyway?” I shot back.
“Please, just come with me and I’ll explain everything!”
I rubbed my neck again and winced at the pain which continued to radiate throughout my entire body.
The sirens couldn’t be more than a mile away. I should go with Wayne. I should get the hell out of here. If the cops found the dead guy and found me, I’d surely be roped into their investigation. And, I didn’t have the best history dealing with cops, you know because I’m a drug dealer and everything.
