Part one here.
Jackson thought once more of those five damning words. What’s in it for me? His partner would remember it, if he were alive. As it was, his partner was swinging from a meat hook in a slaughterhouse somewhere, a bullet firmly planted in his brain. Michael had always been the man with the plan, the man who made Jackson’s grand schemes work. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.
But it had.
Jackson’s head was covered with a velvet sack, his hands held together with a zip tie. The vehicle they had shoved him into seemed to hit every pothole on the way out of the slum.
That’s probably on purpose.
Jackson shook his head. Even if he knew where that slaughterhouse had been, what would be the point in going back? Michael was dead, and that wouldn’t change. Maybe Jackson could have gone back for the body, but he couldn’t even begin to think of who he would bring it to. Michael had always been tight lipped about his family, only going so far as to say that he hadn’t seen any of them in about six years. No, recovering Michael’s body would do no good.
After about ten minutes of driving, the vehicle stopped. Jackson heard the door open, then hands roughly pulled him out of the car. He mouthed the phrase to himself and barely began to wonder where they took him before the sack was taken off his head.
Jackson blinked at the sudden light. The sun shone down directly above him. It seemed that they had dropped him in an alley. One of the heavies took out a knife and lazily cut off the zip tie. Jackson brought his hands forward and started rubbing his left wrist, the normal one. His right didn’t feel pain anymore; that was the benefit to prosthetics. He looked up and tried to get his bearings as the vehicle, a white van with black windows, drove off. He quickly determined that he had been here before, but it wasn’t familiar enough to tell him where he was.
Jackson began walking towards the main road that the alley connected to, and quickly discovered where they had dropped him.
His apartment rose before him in all its red-brick splendor. Concerned, Jackson started to move towards it. Cooper knowing where he lived didn’t surprise him, but Jackson saw it as a subtle threat. He shoved past bystanders and crossed the street at a run, finally reaching the door to enter.
MrZakGuy 