24 Hours

7:00 a.m.

The sun was just peeking out from the horizon as we turned from a neighborhood street into a back alleyway. I lay against the cold car door, too tired to move a muscle, but also unable to sleep in the waxing light. A ray of light shone directly on me. I squinted, shielding my eyes with my hand. I could understand why criminals did their work by night. The sun made me feel exposed, and I dreaded having to go through someone's car for a listening device.

Isn't that an invasion of privacy? Worse yet, what if Mr. Boyd catches me in his car and thinks I'm trying to steal it?

What's so important about his conversations anyways? I assumed Boyd was the leader of a rival gang or something. Or maybe he was the owner of a bank, and Raven needed to know what his schedule was to know when to pull a robbery. If he were the leader of a gang, I wouldn't feel too awful about getting a listening device from his car. But if he were an innocent civilian who owned a small-business or bank, and my involvement in retrieving the listening device meant that he was robbed, I wasn't sure if I could sleep at night ever again. The guilt would be too painful.

Our car crept into the driveway of a two-story brick home. Beside the driveway, there was a patio with a circular, stone table and four iron chairs. I gazed up at crystal-clear windows overlooking a luscious, green lawn. It looked like a normal, suburban property, not what I would typically associate with gangs. Oh dear! I am going to facilitate the stealing from a small-businessman.

The car halted in front of a beige SUV, parked at the top of the driveway. I never understood why people parked their cars outside their garage. I suppose Mr. Boyd could have multiple cars and couldn't fit them all inside his garage, but then I had to wonder what the purpose of having multiple cars was.

"Come on, we don't have much time," Cougar said. He wrapped his hand around my wrist and yanked me out of the right car door. A cry escaped my lips.

"Not so hard! I'm coming!" I said.

Cougar rolled his eyes, but at least he let go of me. "Not fast enough."

Well I would rather be a law-abiding citizen who's out of shape than be a part of the mob.

I rubbed my wrist as I walked towards the car. Cougar had only held my wrist in a death grip for a few seconds, but it already had red marks. He really ought to be more careful. I glanced back at him to see him pulling a gun from his back pocket. Every muscle in my body went rigid. My heart started pounding in my chest. Gun...pointed at me. They're about to kill me. Am I not doing enough for them? Am I too much of a nuisance? I don't want to die. Please, I'll do anything. Can anyone save me?

I couldn't voice any pleas—my throat was too dry. I forced my hands to raise in the air. Maybe if I look helpless and compliant, they'll let me live.

"Don't shoot!" I whispered hoarsely.

Cougar's eyebrows knit together. "I'm not going to shoot you, I'm covering you."

Oh...

I thought I was going to die for sure. I lowered my hands slowly, but couldn't move my legs to walk to the front of the car. My eyes were glued to the gun, still pointed in my direction. My skin prickled with sweat and anxiety. At any moment, he could pull the trigger. All the more reason to remain useful to them. They won't kill you if you cooperate.

I forced myself to walk around the back of the car. I didn't want Cougar to snap at me again, nor did I want to tempt him to shoot me.

As I was rounding the back of the car, I saw Calico standing by the front door. I jumped. My heart rate spiked again.