The city felt frozen. Constantly moving, but dead, almost as if it was some sort of corpse controlled by the hands of a master puppeteer. The deal was the exact opposite of this. The deal promised two things: a large sum of cash, and freedom. The deal was Rob's saviour, his grace, his promised land. All Rob had to do was convince people of different things. He had to convince his mom he was going to boating school, he had to convince his friends to tag along as part of his crew, and he had to convince himself that he wasn't going to get anyone killed.
The deal came to Rob in an odd way. Three weeks before school was out he was on his way home from school. His vehicle had once again failed at starting in the high school parking lot, so he was using his longboard to travel the two miles home. The kids all muttered something they thought sounded clever and drove off in their perfectly running vehicles. After the small amount of bantering he received, Rob was about ready to crash into his bed and stay asleep. The only thing keeping him from him and the unbelievable comfort of his memory foam bed was the long haul there.
Rob shrugged his shoulders at the thought of riding the distance, and without further thought began riding his board across the bumpy Washington roads home. Along the familiar route, Rob remembered a shortcut he had thought about taking a couple times before. He wanted a new sight and a quicker way to his dreams, so he decided to take the tarmac walking street that jutted its way through a cluster of rundown town homes.
The road increased in pitch much quicker than it looked from a distance. The board beneath Rob's feet started shaking slightly as the speed picked up. Rob was focused on steering so much that he didn't realize three men at the door of one of the town homes. He did however notice two gunshots that slammed against his eardrums. Rob ducked and the board darted from underneath him. He fell on his side and rolled down the road. He tossed over a couple times and came to a stop while wrapping himself around a leg on a stationary bench.
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Rob woke up to a gun held near his face. He could see down the barrel, but it surprisingly didn't scare nor shock him. It was just there. The first words he heard after waking were, "Welcome to a great example of a bad situation". Rob shook his head, agreeing only partially with the stranger. Death didn't really scare Rob. The pain he'd experience before it did more than anything. If the gun went off, it'd only be a nap nanosecond of pain.
The man with dark skin shook his head. "Don't try to act brave with me. I don't like attitude. I should've shot you already, you little shit." In response to this that Rob shrugged his shoulders and emptied the air out his lungs. This filled the bloodshot eyes with anger.
"Do you think this is a game? Huh? If you do, I've got a cheat code right here in my hand that could end your pathetic life with a slight pull of my finger." Rob almost started to worry about how much he wasn't worrying. Almost.
The words came out without emphasis behind his voice, showing just how much he had given up on life.
"I don't think it's game, this is definitely real. I understand that, it's just that I don't really care much anymore. Haven't in a while." The man tilted his head to the side and licked the front of his top teeth. He looked up toward somebody Rob hadn't quite realized was there. The standing figure nodded toward the kneeling one, and he got up holding out his hand to help the young teen up. Reluctantly, the boy took his hand and was put upright. He brushed his clothes off and looked out at the three crude looking men.
The most professional looking one, the guy in the middle who had nodded looked Rob over. "If what you're saying is true," he said, "then you are just the guy we are looking for." He held out his hand. "Name's Schumacher."
Reaching out for the second hand in the past minute, the slightly shaken boy said, "Rob".
