Underbelly

Dude, I’m going to get murdered, he clicked send on the text and looked up. Light was still red. His car was warm. The windows were clear. Soon, they would be foggy. Opened a different app, and started writing out the same message. Midway, he looked up, it was his light, he pressed the accelerator, one hand on the wheel, with the other, he switched apps, leaving his message midway. The phone spoke out the directions, always calm. He laughed, maniacally. I might die. TURN LEFT. This one or the next? Oh shit, I missed it. Service lane. He looked at the phone, it said another nine minutes instead of the two it had been showing earlier. Oh well. Maybe this was a sign. I might die. He looked at the dark street it was supposed to be at as he passed by it, unable to turn in. He laughed out loud, all alone in his car. The rest of the drive was silent, the humdrum was in his thoughts. I’m going to die. Holy shit, this will be fun. He finally finished the text he had been sending out. Dude, I’m going to get murdered. Are you going to do it? This is sketch as fuck. Sorry, i’m now seven minutes away.

Instead of getting on the service lane, this time, he took the way around. He caught a yawn in his chest. He was too pumped up to be sleepy other than that. Phone buzzed, he switched apps with the free hand, and read the message. Look for the wagon, EK 906. He slowed down as he passed houses. None of them seemed like the one. There, the wagon. He parked next to it, and messaged her. Im here. At least tell me there are more than one goons here to kidnap me. For my self esteem. The response came as a buzz. His car idle. Engine running. Heater on. Yeah, my friend is with me. He laughed a little. He switched off the engine, flicked the lights, got out. Walked over, someone was in the front seat. He tried the back. The door would not open. Sheesh, it was chilly. He wrapped his arms around himself. He tried again, it wouldn’t open. A click and he tried the third time.

It was immediate. He didn’t even have time to feel nervous. It just was. Sudden. Loud. Talking over one another. He could make out an explanation about how someone was supposed to be showing up, with a great jawline, who one of his two hosts had a crush on. He laughed. This was ludicrous. Then came the call. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re coming inside.” His other host, the girl who had invited him hung up, muttering bhenchod under her breath. The car was warm. There was a tingling feeling in his chest. He was happy. This was strange. He was laughing, and the wider he smiled, the happier he became. Some more warnings about the guy with the jawline, and then they left. He followed them to a discreet black steel gate, no different than any of the others in the neighborhood. She knocked. A panel slid open, and a face peered out.