On the Run

"Oh my God, oh my God oh my God!" A man shouted, kicking a desk aside and sending masses of piled documents all over the place. The man shouted and spat foul language in a rage as he picked up the TV and smashed it into the floor. The TV that showed that stupid challenger defeat Reshia. It was fixed it must have been. Garson knew his number was up. He owed Zelos eighty five million, the only man in the city that could pay that much was Zelos, that was why he made the bet. Now Zelos owned pretty much the whole city.

"Boy!" Garson snapped. A small boy of no more than eight crept meekly from behind a desk, clearly shaken by his fathers rage.

"Father?" The boy sqweaked, he was short and wore dirty clothes that matched well with the general state of the Garson's Gambling building.

"Get your stuff were leaving." Garson opened the till and pulled out a small amount of cash and stuffed it in the back pocket of his dungarees. The boy scuttled off.

Where he was going Garson didn't know, he felt like a trapped animal, with the imminent danger of predators appearing to finish him at any minute. As he yanked pieces of paper and files out of his cash desk he remembered something. He crouched down, grabbing a crowbar and wedging it between two of the floor boards. He tugged once, then again, then...

"Garson." A thick brutish voice said queitly. Garson was suddenly transfixed by fear, one of Zelos' men. Which one Garson had no idea, looking up he saw a massive, gorilla like man. Wearing a suit that didn't fit with his neandarthal appearance. Garson stood slowly, wiping the rivers of sweat from his brow. His mind raced, hoping a plan would come to mind,  no luck. He could think of nothing but beg.

"L-look, I can have your cash." Garson stuttered, the massive intruder cut him short with a quick, hard punch to the face and sending Garson to the floor. He climbed to his knees and began to dust himself off.

"You can't pay nothing." The brute growled. He raised his other hand to reveal the baseball bat he was holding. The man said no more instead he raised his baseball bat.


The huge man fell back, having dropped the baseball bat he clutched his shoulder. Pure agony had spread across his face as claret spilled out of the wound. Two more shots were fired, both missed but it was enough to send the intruder on his heels. He fled out the door and dissapeared.

Garson, still dazed, forced himself to roll on his front. He looked at the back door to see the boy clutching a gun almost as big as him, it was still smoking. How he had fired the thing and remained standing Garson had no idea, but he was thankful for his life.

"Well done son." He stammered, his eye was throbbing but he had no time to dwell on it. He grabbed the crowbar, tore up the floorboards and pulled a briefcase from the hole in the floor.

One Million, the money Zelos had put down. Garson was going to take it and flee, then he had a better idea. He couldn't escape Zelos, he would et him eventually. With a million in his pocket he could buy some friends and get rid of Zelos. With a plan formed he grabbed his son and the pair left quickly out the back door.

The End

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