by Eli (aka Lucas)
It was a stroke of luck that had Lucas nabbing this gig. Whether it was bad or good, it was too early to tell.
He sat in the back of a moving van, keeping his head bent and his gaze on his laced fingers that hovered between his legs, he tried not to think about what would transpire that night. It was going to be a simple gig, he told himself, in and out, real quick. He knew the combinations to security, could pick a lock like nobody’s business, and was quiet. He had always lived a life of trying to go unnoticed by the wrong people, surprising those closest to him who knew him as the mouth of the friend group.
He avoided looking at the person across from him. They’d said nothing when he’d gotten in, and their gaze had remained glued to him for the twenty minutes he’d already spent in silence. Dark eyes remained trained on him, peeking out from bleach-white hair with tinges of pink on the end. They’d been smiling the entire ride over. It was unnervingly still and drenched with cruel intention. They were hunched forward, one hand resting on their knee, the one gripping the handle of a metal bat.
He’d already tried speaking to them, but only silence met his ears. Finally, he lifted his head, avoiding the person across from him, to call to the driver.
“Hey, what’s with your friend?”
“That’s Sunny,” Roman replied, his voice deep like rumbling thunder. Lucas was sure the man was some kind of slavic from the slight hint of his accent. He was bald, mostly, with tattoos decorating his pale dome. Standing at six feet, the man was like a mountain, broad and built to fight. He smelled of tobacco and vanilla, an avid cigar smoker. Upon their first meeting several months back, Lucas thought the man a caricature of what real criminals were, but after watching him beat a man to death with a brick, he no longer found the humor in it.
“What’s Sunny’s deal?” he called over again, still avoiding the other’s gaze. “Extra protection in case something goes wrong.”
“Is something expected to go wrong?”
“Not if you keep your trap shut and do your job.”
Lucas felt a chill creep down his spine from the light tone Sunny spoke with. It was the first time hearing their voice. It was quiet, airy, and leveled, but held a rage to it that lay just under the surface, like a tense spring waiting to be released. He turned his gaze to see that they hadn’t stopped looking at him, but they were gripping the handle of the bat, as if anticipating something.
“What’s the matter? Does a smile really make you that nervous?” they asked. Lucas didn’t answer, merely eyeing them.
“If you’re this jumpy from a smile then how can we trust you to have steady hands on a job?”
“I’m not jumpy,” he argued, doing his best to lie. “Just wanna know if we got a problem here.”
“No problem. Not yet. You plan on being a problem?”
“No sir.”
“Not a sir.”
“…Ma’am–”
He’d only just gotten the word out when the head of the bat slammed so hard and so fast into the wall of the van beside his head. Their face was drawn close to his, and as the ringing in Luca’s ear subsided, he could just make out a quiet chuckle.
“Jumpy little guy, aren’t you?” they whispered. He felt his pulse thrum in his being with cold fear.
“Put your fangs away,” called Roman, “and don’t ding up my van, I just got it detailed.”
Sunny remained a moment more, before slowly pulling the bat away, and then their face, and sitting back down, their posture more relaxed than before.
Lucas suddenly found he had room to breath, and merely decided to go quiet again.
After what seemed like an achingly long time, the van pulled up to an alleyway. The destination was a townhome, a wealthy little plaza in the middle of an otherwise middle-class district. They’d parked a few streets away, and almost as soon as they stopped, they were out. They quietly walked along, keeping to the shadows, not a word passed between them as they went, following silent cues, and turning their attention to where Roman’s gaze would land.
The place had been cased a day earlier by the big man himself, and as such, he knew the perfect way in. Through the east side of the town home’s fence, he’d made a loose entrance, just big enough for Lucas and Sunny to fit through. The man himself would stay outside, and keep a watch.
Lucas hesitated, not wanting to be alone with his new partner in crime.
“Well,” they whispered with some tempered impatience, “after you.”
He ducked down and under, leaving no room for suspicions about cold feet.
The layout was simple, there was a back door, but they’d be ignoring that entirely, going instead for a window that apparently had a loose or broken lock to it. Lucas made quick work, lifting it and spilling inside, and keeping low to the ground. He’d landed in the living room. The only light that was provided was the yellow street lamps that poured in. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he moved before Sunny could land next to him. They began to quietly creep toward their destination, the office room. In there lay a safe, tucked away within the closet space. It was then he could feel Sunny break off from his side and head to the computer.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, but the other gave no reply. They pressed a button and it flickered on, flashing the windows logo quickly against a black screen before it began to boot up.
“Hey, that’s not the job–” Lucas started, but in the blink of an eye Sunny had somehow lifted the bat and was holding it less than an inch from his nose.
“I’ve got my job, you’ve got yours,” they whispered. Lucas thought better than to argue, and merely turned back to the closet. The safe was a simple enough lock, one could decipher simply by listening. Quick as a whip he had the box opened. Files lay inside, all gathered in a manilla envelope. His eyes couldn’t help but to glance over the label; “St.C.U.–Finances–R+D”
Gibberish to him in the moment, he forgot about it in the next second and continued to gather everything within. He heard the primer behind him kick up. Startled by the sudden noise, he turned back.
“Piece of shit,” Sunny could be heard to mutter. A few papers began to sputter out of the machine. Lucas only watched, confused by the display on the screen. A spreadsheet of numbers, with what seemed like dozens of names, and the letters St.
C.U again. His eyes flicked over to Sunny, who was sucking on their teeth with some impatience. They must have felt Lucas gaze, and their eyes flicked over and down to him.
“Got a staring problem, meat-bag?” they hissed.
“What is all this?” he asked, knowing that he’d either be rejected outright or quietly dismissed.
“The fuck I care what it is. White collar shit, and none of your business.”
“Alright, alright, just askin’.”
Their voices were silenced immediately by the sound of footsteps from the floor above them. Someone was awake.
“Fuck…” muttered Lucas. “We gotta scram.” “Job’s not done yet.”
“They’ll hear the printer! We’re gonna get caught–”
“No, we won’t,” replied Sunny through grit teeth.
“Stay here,” they said. Much to Lucas’ surprise, they left their bat behind, and walked out of the room. His heart pounded in his throat, wondering what on earth this person could be on to think that they could just go out there. How intimidating did they think they were? He couldn’t help but to creep over to the door, listening as the footsteps began jogging down the stairs.
The voice of a man could be heard– the owner of the house.
“Wha– who are you? What are you doing in my–”
His voice cut off then. Lucas expected to hear some kind of /thump/ or any indicator of a body hitting the floor. Only silence followed. His curiosity egging him on, he crawled closer and opened the door just a crack. Peering out, he could make out two figures, that of Sunny, and presumably the owner of the home. They were just standing there, still and silent, until Sunny was the first to move. The other man remained where he was, his hands at his side, staring ahead at the corner of the room.
The young man began walking back to the office a slight jaunt to his step, as if pleased with whatever it was he just did. Lucas backed away from the door, but as it opened, Sunny was suddenly on him, grabbing him by the front.
“Enjoy the show?” they whispered.
“What the hell are you man? What’d you do to him?”
“Wanna find out…?” they asked. In a sudden moment of boldness, Lucas pushed off of them and stepped back, raising his fists to fend off whatever they were planning.
They merely shook their head, shooting a breath through their nose as if humored by the sight.
“Put yer fists away. You’re not gonna be problem, remember? You said so yourself.”
It was then that the printer sounds died down, the last paper floating to the ground to join the rest of the pile. They moved, to collect them perhaps, but then their eyes flicked to Lucas, their eyes having a shine of mischief to them.
“Pick that up,” they ordered him. He hesitated, unwilling to show them his back, as well as add another wound against his pride. Without further warning he was grabbed by the front and thrown powerfully to his knees. Sunny couldn’t have been much bigger then him, in fact, perhaps an inch shorter, but they’d handled him like he were a bag of grapes. Lucas scrambled, quickly gathering all the files into the manilla folder, making sure to leave nothing behind. He felt a boot on his back then, as someone above him laughed.
“Good dog,” they snickered.
His cheeks burned hot with humiliation. He shoved the other’s foot off, and they allowed it with a laugh.
He’d gotten to his feet and they were headed out of the office. He stopped dead when he saw the homeowner, still standing there. Sunny noticed his hesitation and turned back.
“Oh, don’t worry about the stiff,” they smiled back at him. “He’s just deep in thought. Sleepwalkers, y’know?”
“…sleep walking?” Lucas asked.
“Yeah. What, d’you think I did something?” they laughed, and it spilled out of them like a choked hyena. They turned and headed out the window. Lucas let out a breath, and merely followed.