One Man's Trash

by poyznelf

Eyes blinked.

Inward focus turned outwards.

Conditions registered.

Gun. Gone. Where…

Chris,

Handcuffs.

HANDCUFFS. CHRIS.

Oh Shit.

Frantic eyes jumped around the room. Chris. Gun. Pen. Paper. Chris. And finally it was there they locked.

Chris.

+ + + + + + +

I watched awareness return and I loosened my bruising grip on his chin.

I repeated my directive.

"YOU WILL NOT DO THIS! LET ME IN!"

And I watch as the panic starts.

My fingers tighten their grasp again.

While my other hand scrambles for my cell.

Ahhhh, the joys of Nextel.

I push one button and get the remaining five.

But I send them a text message for once.

9#1#1#8#4#6#7

9118467 = Emergency at Vin's.

Now I center my efforts on calming my friend, as I wait for backup to arrive.

End

5. Other Men's Treasure

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