The Nightwatcher

Chapter THREE

CHAPTER THREE

The black van sped down the streets of Sterling City, the V6 liter engine roaring every second. One of the random thugs was driving, while Quikshot sat in the passenger's seat. He had a look of cold determination on his face, yet, was puzzled.

We discussed this, Quikshot thought. They knew what we were doing. Why were there cops there? The Dark isn't going to be happy.

While these thoughts were dancing in his head, the three remaining thugs were in the back of the van. Seven black gym bags filled with money lain about. One of the thugs grabbed a bag, and unzipped it. He grabbed a handful of the bills, and sniffed them.

"Ah," the thug said. "Gotta love the smell of fresh dough!"

Everyone, sans Quikshot, laughed.

"How much you think we got?" another thug asked.

"Dunno, but there were millions in that vault, and we got a good chunk of it!" another thug replied.

The two other thugs grabbed their own handfuls of the money, and shifted through the bills.

"I love this city," one of the thugs said.

"How could we not?" a thug replied. "This is our town! We do what we want! This is the Wild West, man! We take what we want, and we do what we want, and there ain't nobody who can say anythin' about it!"

The thugs laughed again, and slapped hands.

"This is not your city," Quikshot sternly said. "This is The Dark's city. You do what he wants, and he can say whatever he wants to say."

The thugs went quiet.

"Oh," one thug said. "There goes Quikshot. Spewing his rants supporting his master."

Quikshot said nothing.

"Why do you listen to him, Quikshot? You are this master killer, and ultimate bad-ass, and if you wanted, you could take this town right from him."

Quikshot said nothing.

"He claims to have this great respect for you, that you're his number one man, that you are a vital piece to his organization. What makes you think he's not bullshitting you? He knows what you're capable of. What you'd be able to do on your own. So, he controls you. He prevents you from being the killer you are."

Quikshot said nothing.

"Look, we got enough money to start on our own. Who needs The Dark? We could run this city. You could run this city. You got the ability. You got the funds. You even got some men ready to help you."

The other thugs nodded.

Quikshot said nothing.

"So, how about it?"

The thug had a smug smile on his face.

As fast as bolt of lightning, Quikshot spun around. Within a second, brains and blood were all over the back of the van. The thug went limp, and crashed onto the floor. Quikshot inhaled the smoke from the gun barrel. The other two thugs had shrieked when the gun was fired, and they were now wide-eyed, and silent. The driver had jerked the wheel due to the shock, but he quickly regained control. He didn't say a word.