It became cold for Millard, as blood exited through a hole dug by a bullet in his stomach. A young man held onto a duffel bag, heavy with bundles of hundred dollar bills, and in his other hand was a revolver. He stood at the end of the alley, underneath a yellow light from a street lamp. Tears rolled down the young man’s freckled cheeks.
“So they said to kill me,” Millard said, as he slid down the alley wall. Sirens were becoming louder. Millard figured if he lost any more blood he would be unable to keep his eyes open. “What did I ever do, wrong, or what was I supposed to do?”
“Just shut up!” And then the young man held up the gun, but Millard didn’t care anymore.
“Danny. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to fight for you any more. Kill me then, if that’s what you want. To be part of them, if that’s what it takes then do it.”
A click when the hammer was pulled back and there was the flashing red and blue lights at the end of the alley. Danny was allotted only a few seconds to kill Willard.
But Willard saw it in Danny’s contorted face, that he didn’t want to pull the trigger.
“You can’t have both, Danny. If you’re gonna kill the last of your family for a new family, then fucking do it!” The blood gushed out in increasing amounts.
Danny let the duffel bag drop. He also pulled the trigger — he had too.