Bitter Harvest---------------->
Junior nips out the door, pulling on his jacket. She pouts. He tucks his hands in his pockets against the wind and walks hurriedly down the sidewalk. He waits on the corner for a moment, smoking a cigarette. A guy pulls up in a car, they duck into the alley together. Junior hands over a bag of pills, making hurry up motions. The guy reaches into his pocket, pulls out some money.
Junior: What is this?
Guy: That's what you said - 50.00
Junior: No, I said five hundred.
The guy pulls open his coat to reveal a gun tucked into his waistband.
Guy: You said 50.00
Junior doesn't hesitate - goes for the guys gun, pulls the trigger while it's still in the guys pants. The guy, shot near the groin, slumps against the wall, glassy eyed. Junior rifles through his pockets and pulls out a wad of bills, obviously quite a bit more than five hundred.
Junior: I said five fucking hundred!
Two cops in plain clothes come running around the corner, shouting.
Junior hits him with the gun in the head for good measure, and takes off running around the next corner. Shots ring out, and hit the brickwork just above his head.
Cops: Stop, police!
Junior: Shit!
Junior keeps running, zigzagging through an industrial section of town, ducking under some rail freight cars, etc, until he gets back to the warehouse squat where his girlfriend and other eco-terrorist/anarchist buddies are hanging out.
Junior scoops a couple of tattered backpacks.
Junior: Get your shit, lets go.
Sherry: What?
Junior: Lets go, lets go!
Sherry grabs their tape deck and starts to look around for their sleeping mats.
Sherry: What happened?
Junior grabs her by the arm, she drops the tape deck. It breaks, and Junior kickes it into the wall, and then jumps up and down on it, shattering the rest of it.
Junior: Didn't I fucking say lets go!?
Their friends are shocked into silence, fear on their faces.
Junior grabs her arm again and hustles her out to a beat up old van,
graffiti gang-tagged and spray painted, puts her in the passenger side,
jumps in and starts the engine.
Sherry starts to sniffle.
Sherry: My mom gave me that tape deck for Christmas.
Junior: Shut the fuck up! I will buy you another one!
He lifts the wad of cash that he took from the narc.
To see the treatment: imanagent@williamcruz.com
