Under the Skin, v2

Under the Skin [[Begin]]

It's a strange story. Many beginnings, many endings, all splattering outward like blood from a bullet. What a strange story. A story that belongs to many, and to none of them. (if: $julie1 is true)[[[Julie]]] (if: $julie is true)[[[Adam|Adam]]] (if: $Adam is true)[[[Ennard|Ennard]]] (if: $Ennard is true)[[[Morgan|Morgan]]] (if: $morgan is true)[(if: $javier is true)[[[Javier|Javierpov]]]] (if: $morgan is true)[[[Adam|Adam2]]] (if: $adam2 is true)[(if: $juliealive is true)[[[Julie|Julie2]]]]

''//Julie//'' The john doesn't seem interested in you. He sits on the far side of the hotel room. You stare at him. He fiddles with the lock on his briefcase. You roll your eyes. Must've gotten cold feet. "You still have to pay, you know." You say. He glances at you. "Even if we don't have sex. I still need money." "Yeah...I know. Uh..." You drum your fingers on your thigh. "Well?" The man gestures to the briefcase. "There's money, in here." [["I want to see the money first."|confront]] (set: $julie to true) (set: $julie1 to false)

He nods and enters the code. The suitcase flips open. You stand and walk across the room. Your eyes widen when you catch sight of the piles of money tucked into the briefcase. "You can have it." The man suddenly bursts to his feet. "You can have all of it." "What--" He practically runs from the room. You stare at the gaping door. And then you turn back to the suitcase. You dig your hand into the guts of the money. It's the most money you've ever seen at one time. [[Take the money.|take]] [[Leave the money.|leave]]

You close the suitcase, careful not to let the lock engage. You don't care how he got this money. Money is money is money. You hurry out of the hotel room. Teardrop will be happy with you. Maybe let you have a hit of the better dust. The suitcase slaps against your bare thigh as you walk. You step outside and snow swirls around you. The cold air nips at your skin. As you exhale, a cloud of steam swirls past your lips. You hurry down the sidewalk. Your heels are loud on the pavement. "Hey, baby--" A man comes forward to accost you. You swerve around him. "Shop's closed. Find someone else." "But I want to play with you, baby." A hard hand closes around your arm. You whip around. "Hey, let me go--" "I'm sorry, do you even get to say no in your line of work?" [["You heard the lady. Let her go."|intro]]

You don't want dirty money. You know the kind of shit gangs get up to. You don't want to put yourself in the middle of that. You leave the suitcaste on the table. You step outside and snow swirls around you. The cold air nips at your skin. As you exhale, a cloud of steam swirls past your lips. You hurry down the sidewalk. Your heels are loud on the pavement. "Hey, baby--" A man comes forward to accost you. You swerve around him. "Shop's closed. Find someone else." "But I want to play with you, baby." A hard hand closes around your arm. You whip around. "Hey, let me go--" "I'm sorry, do you even get to say no in your line of work?" [["You heard the lady. Let her go."|intro2]]

"Stay out of this, asshole." Your assailant yanks you against his chest. He reeks of weed, barbeque sauce, and unwashed skin. You gag. "No means no, even for prostitutes." You turn your head. A man in a black coat stands a few feet away. His hands are stuffed in his pockets. His jet black hair is brushed away from his bold features. He's not quite handsome, but he's got the kind of face you won't forget. Even for someone like you, who's more likely to look at the ceiling than in the faces of the men you have sex with. "Go fuck yourself." The man pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He taps a cigarette loose and tucks it in the corner of his mouth. He lights the cigarette. "You have ten seconds, friend." He smiles around his cigarette. You clench your hand into a fist. [["Ten, nine, eight..."|figt back]] "What the fuck is wrong with you--?" [["Seven, six, five..."|wait]]

"Seven, six, five..." You reel back and crunch your fist into your attacker's jaw. He stumbles away from you, clutching his face, more surprised than hurt. "You fucking bitch--" There's a loud popping sound. All of the sudden, his body crumples in front of you. Blood sprays from the back of his head. The man in black stands in front of you, smoke twirling from the end of his cigarette. You didn't even see the gun. "I don't want any trouble--" You start. "I'm not going to hurt you." He nods to the suitcase. "Where did you get that from?" "A-a john." You clutch the suitcase to your stomach. "He gave it to me. Fair's fair." "Everything happens for a reason," the man smiles. It reminds you of a shark. You take a small step back. In the distance, you hear laughter and screaming and glass shattering. "Do you want to play a game? See if fate's at play here." [["Sure, I guess. If you'll let me go."|play]] [["N-no, thank you. I really have to go."|flee]]

"Four, three, two, one..." He sings the last four numbers. "Time's up, honey." "Fucking fag--" The asshole holding you captive whips out a gun and aims it at the man. But in the time it takes him to draw the gun, the man in black already has the barrel of a pistol pressed in the middle of his forehead. He pulls the trigger. Blood and bone and brain spray everywhere. You gasp and jump out of the dead man's grasp. "Don't get your thong in a twist, baby," the man in black says. He has already put the gun away. "I don't want any trouble--" You start. "I'm not going to hurt you." He nods to the suitcase. "Where did you get that from?" "A-a john." You clutch the suitcase to your stomach. "He gave it to me. Fair's fair." "Everything happens for a reason," the man smiles. It reminds you of a shark. You take a small step back. In the distance, you hear laughter and screaming and glass shattering. "Do you want to play a game? See if fate's at play here." [["Sure, I guess. If you'll let me go."|play]] [["N-no, thank you. I really have to go."|flee]]

The man pulls a coin from his pocket. "We'll determine it with a coin toss," he twirls the coin through his thick knuckles. His hands are big and scarred. Hands used for hurting people. "Determine what?" "Whether or not you keep the money, of course." There's more. But you have to play his game now. "Ready to play?" You stare at him, wide-eyed. Flakes of snow like sugar catch in his inky dark hair. A cold gust breathes over your bare legs. He flips the coin in the air. The toothy edge of the coin catches the light of a nearby streetlamp. He catches it and flips it onto the back of his hand. He looks up at you with eyes so dark that they seem to absorb the light. He isn't a large man, but he seems to take up a lot of space. Like the space molds around him. You shrink into your coat. "Call it." [["Heads."|win]] [["Tails."|lose]]

You try to walk past him. His hand closes gently around your arm. His grip isn't bruising. But the threat is implicit. You freeze. "That's not how this works." He says. "Don't spoil my fun. We are going to play a little game." You stumble back, almost tripping over your pumps. You cling to the suitcase like a teddy bear. The man pulls a coin from his pocket. "Ready to play?" You stare at him, wide-eyed. Flakes of snow like sugar catch in his inky dark hair. A cold gust breathes over your bare legs. He flips the coin in the air. The toothy edge of the coin catches the light of a nearby streetlamp. He catches it and flips it onto the back of his hand. He looks up at you with eyes so dark that they seem to absorb the light. He isn't a large man, but he seems to take up a lot of space. Like the space molds around him. You shrink into your coat. "Call it." [["Heads."|win]] [["Tails."|lose]]

He smiles and lifts his hand away. You practically lunge forward to see what way the coin is facing. Heads. A small sigh escapes you. He stuffs the coin back in his pocket. "Today's your lucky day, honey." He finishes his cigarette. A crown of smoke frames his head. He drops the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out with his foot. "Do you want to know where that money came from?" [["Does it matter?"|sass]] [["Do you know what happened?"|curious]]

He smiles and lifts his hand away. You practically lunge forward to see what way the coin is facing. Heads. You feel your heart drop straight through your ribcage, all the way down to your feet. You look up into his face. "Sorry, baby. I guess today isn't your lucky day." "Please--" He pulls his gun too fast for you to even follow the movement. [[He shoots you in the head.|Morgan2]] (set: $juliedead to true)

The man laughs. It's a harsh, grating sound, like he's crunching on glass. "You've got spunk. I like that," he stuffs his hands in his pockets. "You know what? Keep the money. You seem smart enough to stay out of trouble. Not like the dumbass who had that suitcase before you." "He's still alive. He can't be that dumb." He flashes the sharp edge of his brillant white teeth. "That's a temporary state of being." He reaches out and caresses your cheek. "I hope that money is worth it." He turns and walks away. [[You stand clutching the suitcase.|Begin]]

"That money was stolen. From a very powerful man." He is still wearing that terrible smile, like a hyena laughing at you before it rips into your chest. "Are you sure you want to keep it?" [["You can have it back. I don't want dirty money."|giveback]] [["Money is money is money."|sass]]

"I thought you had bigger balls than that," the man shrugs and takes the suitcase from your shaking hand. "But you're smarter than the last dumbass that had this suitcase." You were just talking to that dumbass a few minutes ago. His hand snaps out and closes around your chin and jaw. He squeezes your face. Hard. "Forget about everything you saw here." He's still smiling. "Just go back to your miserable, shitty little life. And be glad that fate was kind enough to let you survive a brush with death today." He releases you and walks away. You stare down the sidewalk, [[snow swirling in his wake.|Morgan2]]

(if: $juliedead is true)[How sad. The little prostitute was cute too.] You take the suitcase and walk away, whistling. You aren't sure about the name of the song. [[You think it's a Christmas song.|Begin]]

"Stay out of this, asshole." Your assailant yanks you against his chest. He reeks of weed, barbeque sauce, and unwashed skin. You gag. "No means no, even for prostitutes." You turn your head. A man in a black coat stands a few feet away. His hands are stuffed in his pockets. His jet black hair is brushed away from his bold features. He's not quite handsome, but he's got the kind of face you won't forget. Even for someone like you, who's more likely to look at the ceiling than in the faces of the men you have sex with. "Go fuck yourself." The man pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He taps a cigarette loose and tucks it in the corner of his mouth. He lights the cigarette. "I don't feel like playing games right now. I have more important shit to deal with." "What the fuck--" [[There's a loud pop.|justice]]

Blood and bone and brain spray everywhere. You gasp and jump out of the dead man's grasp. He slumps to the pavement. "Don't get your thong in a twist, baby," the man in black says. He has already put the gun away. "I don't want any trouble--" You start. "I'm not looking for trouble," he assesses you briefly. "Where would I be able to find you? If I want your services, of course." "I'm...I'm normally at the Pit. Or I'm at a corner in Teardrop's territory." He taps the side of his nose. His eyes are so dark. They seem to absorb the light. He fills the space around him, takes up more than his fair share. You feel like you don't have any breathing room. "I'll remember that. You're cute. Have a good night, baby." You stare after the man. You feel like you [[just brushed shoulders with the devil.|Begin]]

(set: $julie1 to true)

''//Sheriff's Deputy Adam Holland//'' There were two bodies. Out in the middle of the desert. The stench was terrible, you'll never forget it. They'd been there for a few days, baking under the hot New Mexico sun until they were extra crispy. You stare down at the laminated photos of the crime scene. One of the dead men was a known drug dealer. The second dead man was the estranged son of a wealthy local business owner. Also a known drug dealer. "You're gonna go blind if you keep staring at those pictures," Sheriff Talent stands next to your desk. You glance up at him. [["It was a drug deal gone wrong. Just sad that Jeb's boy was involved in it."|blunt]] [["I think there's something more to this case."|uncertain]] (set: $Adam to true) (set: $julie1 to false) (set: $julie to false)

"You won't catch me shedding any tears, that kid was a hellion," Sheriff Talent takes an enormous, wet bite of his apple. You wince as he chews loudly, apple juices dappling his thick mustache. "Entitled brat. Got in all kinds of trouble and Jeb kept bailing him out, until he found out that the boy was selling drugs for one of the big cartels. I can't believe he didn't end up dead in a ditch sooner." He shakes his head to himself as he walks away. [[You agree with Sheriff Talent.|abandon]] [[Thinking back on the crime scene makes you uneasy. Something hadn't seemed right that day...|challenge]]

"Boy, there ain't more to this case," Sheriff Talent chuckles to himself and pats your back. You try not to grind your teeth into dust. You resist the urge to shrug his hand away. "It was just a drug deal gone wrong. Yeah, Jeb's boy being there makes it complicated. But life is messy sometimes, boy." You hate that he still calls you boy. It makes your skin sit hot and rough on your bones. "I don't know. I just have a feeling in my gut." "Can't pursue a gut feeling." The sheriff takes a huge chomp on his apple. You don't imagine the dots of apple juice spraying across the picture. Your knuckles turn white from clenching your hand into such a tight fist. "What makes you think there's more to this case? Seems open and shut to me." [["I don't know."|concede]] [[Think about the crime scene. What did you see that day that is making you hesitate?|challenge]]

"That's right, you don't know." The sheriff taps his chest with a fist. "You don't have the experience I do. You've only been here for a year. Don't get too big for your britches this early on, boy. You still have a lot to learn." You take a measured breath. "Nice try, though, kid." Sheriff Talent smiles at you through his thick mustache. "Your day will come. You'll get that big case." Sheriff Talent walks away. You stare down at the photo. [[Just let it go.|abandon]] [[It suddenly feels very important that you prove Sheriff Talent wrong.|challenge]]

You stare quietly at the picture. The harsh New Mexico landscape couldn't quite be captured in a photograph--you needed to be out in that desert to really know the land--but it still transports you back to seeing the crime scene for the first time. The sun pounding down on top of your head, making your scalp boil with sweat. The hard blue sky rolling over the landscape, crunching into the jagged orange horizon, like shattered pieces of two different plates sliding against each other on the kitchen floor. They didn't fit together, and they almost seemed to be fighting each other, the sky and the land. Seemed like a decent enough place for a gun fight, for a drug deal gone wrong. You mentally picture the [[two bodies,|clue1]] sprawled under the hot New Mexico sun. [[Two cars|clue2]] had been parked nearby. You remembered tracing over [[two sets of footsteps|clue3]] in the loose sand. Coming across a [[gym bag full of drugs.|clue5]] There had been an [[empty gym bag|clue4]] discarded behind a rock. You might want to think back on the scene a few times. One glance at the information might not be helpful. [[You've thought about this for long enough.|truth]]

It wasn't the first time you'd seen a dead body. You remember seeing your grandpa in his coffin at his funeral, his bony brown hands folded neatly over his stomach. He had smelled weirdly sweet. But this was different. Both of these men had died violently. They had both been shot multiple times in the stomach. Money and drugs were on the line. They weren't going to be skimpy with bullets. They probably hadn't died right away, cooking under the sun, flies feasting on their skin while they were staring up at the sky waiting for death. You frown. [[There was nothing out of the oridinary about the bodies that you could remember.|challenge]]

Two cars, one belonging to the [[drug dealer,|clue2I]] the other to [[Jeb's boy.|clue2II]] [[You were done thinking about the cars.|challenge]]

You had wandered through the desert, following the different sets of footsteps. One had come from the drug dealer's car, another from Jeb's boy's car. Neither had returned. You stare down at the picture. You peer intently at a strange smudge in the corner. It looks like--you can't quite tell. You reach for a magnifying glass. It's another set of footsteps. You frown. You hadn't noticed that the first time. The pictures were taken before you and the other officers went onto the scene. If you had seen those footsteps afterwards, you had probably just figured it was another officer or one of the people from the coroner's office. Your stomach clenches. A third set of footsteps. [[Had someone else been at the crime scene before your people got there?|challenge]]

No one had thought much of the empty gym bag. It had probably had either money or drugs in it. Sheriff Talent had shrugged and said the contents had probably ended up in one of the three gym bags that had been found in the trunks of the cars. But that didn't make sense to you. It hadn't then, and it [[didn't now.|challenge]] (set: $clue4 to true)

Just a drug deal gone wrong. You push the file away. You push the case from your head. [[Just a drug deal gone wrong.|Begin]]

''//Ennard//'' The hot new Mexico hammers on the top of your skull. You feel almost dizzy out here in the middle of the desert, the orange land pushing against the blue sky like two fists coming together. Beads of sweat drip down your temples, seeping into your beard. The smell of heat and sand makes your nose and mouth feel like it's full of cotton. Every breath, you feel the desert sinking into your lungs. You didn't hear gunshots. They must have been dead for a few days. You stare down at the carnage, clutching the straps of your backpack. What happened here? Did matter? Orange sand whispers over your scuffed boots as you circle the two bodies. There are two cars nearby. You see a gym bag next to one of the bodies. You crouch and extend your arm as far as you can, nudging the bag open. Baggies of white powder are visible between the zipper teeth. Drug deal gone wrong. Your heart pounds. Maybe there's money nearby. You climb to your feet, head cranking around desperately. One man's misfortune is another man's fortune. A loud, wet cough sounds like a gunshot at your feet. You whip around. One of the two men is writhing on the ground. He squints up at you. Raises one bloody hand. "Help...me." [[Go and help him.|help]] [[He's dead anyway.|donthelp]] (set: $Ennard to true) (set: $Adam to false)

You picture the drug dealer's car. The seats had been ripped and sticky from sitting in the sun for so long. The AC was broken. Must've been hell on earth. The control panel was felted with dust. A photo of some model had been dangling from the rearview mirror. Fast food wrappers and empty water bottles had populated the backseat, along with a box of dirty magazines. Chip bags and beer cans had been piled on the passenger seat. There were two gym bags full of money in the trunk. It wasn't Jeb's boy who had come to the scene with money. Something about the gym bags [[seems important.|clue2]] (if: $clue5 is true)[The bag of drugs had been near Jeb. The empty gym bag must have had money it. So where had it gone?]

Jeb's boy had kept his car pretty clean for a drug dealer. Some dust on the control panel, a few fast food wrappers, but nothing horrible. It had been a nice car. There had been [[one gym bag packed with drugs|clue2]] in the trunk.

A gym bag of drugs had been near Jeb's boy. Probably in the middle of trading it off when they'd gotten into a disagreement about--something, probably the money--and started firing. [[Just a drug deal gone wrong in the middle of the desert.|challenge]] (if: $clue4 is true)[But that didn't make sense. What about the empty gym bag? There must have been money in that bag if they were in the middle of the trade off.]

You put the laminated photo down and force yourself back to the present. (if: $clue4 is true)[[[You think you have enough evidence to go the chief.|chief]]] [[You're chasing shadows. You don't have anything concrete enough to make a case to the chief.|abandon]]

You knock on Chief Donaldson's door. "What is it?" He's not a friendly man. You step into the office, holding the folder in front of you. It smells like coffee and cologne. He glances up at you through his beetled eyebrows. He's scribbling out notes in a different file. "What do you want, son?" "I wanted to talk to you about the drug case." "The one with Jeb's boy?" He drums his pen on his desk. "Make it quick." [["There was a third person."|threeppl]] [["Money was stolen from the crime scene."|money]]

"I found a third set of footprints in the photograph." You hand the photo to the chief. He squints at the spot you point to. "These photos were taken before we went onto the scene." The chief shrugs. "A jogger found the bodies. It's probably just their footsteps." [[You feel like an ass for wasting the chief's time.|apologize]] [["I also think that there was money taken from the crime scene."|money]]

"Now, what makes you say that?" He asks. "The empty gym bag. Jeb's boy never even gave the drugs to the other dealer. The drugs were still by him, and he came to the scene with the drugs. The empty gym bag belonged to the other dealer. They both died on the scene. So where did the money go? There was a third person at the crime scene. And I think he killed the other two dealers and ran off." The chief leans back in his chair and thinks for a long moment. "Who knows what kind of scavengers wander around the desert?" The chief spears you with a look. You stand up taller. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, son. But here's some advice for you. Dumb yourself down sometimes." You stiffen. He's telling you to look the other way. You meet his hard grey eyes. [["I understand, sir."|giveup]] [["What happened to justice, sir?"|confront2]]

"That makes sense," you say. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, chief." "Use your brain next time." He hands the photo back to you. [[You leave his office.|abandon]]

"Good." The chief nods. You turn and walk out of the office. "What were you talking to the chief about?" Sheriff Talent asks. "Nothing important." Sheriff Talent notices that you're holding the photograph. "Let it go, kid. It's [[just a drug deal gone wrong."|Begin]]

"Justice is for old westerns." The chief leans forward and rests his elbows on the desk. "Don't put a white hat on, son. It'll just put a target on your back." "Then what's the point of us even being here?" "We aren't big time city cops. This is a small community. We need to protect it. And sometimes, well, that means looking the other way." Your chest burns. You think back to the day you were sworn in. You feel like a liar. "That money is dirty. Whoever has it now will get what's coming to them. Justice doesn't always need to come from people like us." The chief picks up his pen. You have been dismissed. You turn and walk out of the chief's office. As you put the file away, you find yourself thinking. But it was just a [[drug deal gone wrong.|Begin]]

The back of your shirt sticks to your body, saturated with sweat. You kneel down and hesitantly extend your hand towards the dying man. "Help...get...help..." Blood bubbles over his lips. He coughs again, spraying blood over the sand. You scramble back. His chest heaves, up and down. Barely alive. He's already dead. [[Find the money.|findmoney1]] (set: $blood to true)

You stare down at him briefly. You feel a twinge in your chest. "Help...me...help..." He coughs again, a sick, wet sound that makes your skin crawl. Blood sprays from his mouth and dampens the hem of your jeans. You stumble back. "Asshole," you mutter. Now...[[where's the money?|findmoney1]]

There's another gym bag nearby. The blood is rushing so fast through your veins that you think your skin must be vibrating. You unzip the bag. Green, so much green. You run a hand over your face. You slide your backpack off and hastily transfer the money into your bag. You toss the empty gym bag aside. As you pull your backpack on, the money is a comforting weight on your lower back. This is fate. You stare towards the horizon, the blue, blue horizon. [[Go north.|north]] [[Go south.|south]]

You came from the south. You want to keep going forward. North, it is. You cast a nervous glance over your shoulder as you walk. The dying man twitches, his bloody fingers clutching at nothing. You shiver and turn away. Money is money is money. You step around creosote bushes and cacti, climb over rocky outcroppings, and dodge around nests of snakes. Trying to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the dead men. The loud grumble of a car makes you freeze. You look up. See a car driving through the desert. [[Try to get their attention and hitch a ride.|hitch]] [[Hide.|hide]]

You came from the south. You decide to retrace your steps, maybe hitch a ride from the gas station you had been to earlier today. You start walking. You refuse to glance over your shoulder at the dying man. Money is money is money. You swerve around creosote bushes and feel sweat rolling down your temples like rain. As you walk, you see a car in the distance. [[Keep walking. Act like nothing is wrong.|subtle]] [[Try to hide.|hide2]]

You just need to get out of the sun. You wave your arms. The car slows down. "Hey, would you fellas be able to give me a ride to the nearest town?" You ask. The driver stares at you. He's a skinny Mexican kid. "Si," the man nods. "Get in." You open the back car door and sit down. You don't take the backpack off. "How'd you get all the way out here, gringo?" [["I'm a drifter. It's what I do."|honest]] [["Was out hiking. Got a little turned around."|lie]]

You throw yourself down behind a rock. As you sit and wait for the car to pass, the desert heat seems to punch you in the face. You're swimming in sweat. The car grows louder. It passes by the rock. Doesn't slow down. You release a slow, shaky breath. You climb to your feet and start walking. You don't know how long you walk. The sun begins to sink towards the horizon, like it's grown lethargic from the desert heat. The world seems to waver and warp in front of you. You reach a small town. You hurry through the steaming streets, looking for a grocery store. The car you saw in the desert is sitting outside [[the grocery store.|store]]

Just play it cool. Don't act like you have a couple thousand dollars in your backpack. It's a nice car. You swallow the lump in your throat. Two men sit in the front seat. One of them looks like a drug dealer. The car slows down. Shit. [[Run.|run]] [[Stop.|stop]]

You throw yourself down behind a rock. As you sit and wait for the car to pass, the desert heat seems to punch you in the face. You're swimming in sweat. The car grows louder. It passes by the rock. Doesn't slow down. You release a slow, shaky breath. You climb to your feet and start walking. You quickly come to the gas station. You buy a bottle of water. The car that passed through the desert pulls into the gas station. Two Mexican men get out of the car and come into the gas station. They go to the aisle with chips. "Hombre," a voice calls. You freeze. [[Turn and acknowledge them.|interact2]] [[Ignore them and leave.|ignore2]]

You dash the other way. There's a rocky outcropping in the distance. If you can jump down onto that, the car won't be able to follow you. An obstacle course of cacti is between you and the outcropping. That'll just slow them down. Tires crunch over sand and stone. You glance over your shoulder. A cloud of gold dust billows behind the car as it races towards you. It mows through cacti and creosote. You whip around and push yourself. You call on your days in the army and push yourself to just fucking run. [[Jump.|jump]]

You come to a halt. No point in running, it'll just get you the wrong kind of attention. The driver rolls his window down. "Hey, gringo," the skinny Mexican man eyes you with dark eyes. "You see a man walking around out here. Skinny gringo like you, wearing a hoodie?" That sounds just like the dying man. You offer a brittle smile. "Uh, no, no, sir." The man stares at you. The passenger says something in rapid Spanish. [["I'll just be on my way."|caught]] [[Stay silent.|silence]]

"Hey now, we didn't say we were done with you, hombre." The man makes a laconic gesture towards your backpack. "What's in the bag?" Your mouth flaps open and closes. [[Run!|run]]

The passenger says something else in the ensuing silence. You try to look innocent. The driver nods at something he says. Without another word, the car takes off into the desert. You breathe a sigh of relief. You keep walking until you get to a small town. For the first time in a long time, you get to stay in a hotel. The next day, you buy a car from a local dealer. You haven't owned a car in a while. Your ex-wife took the car when she left you for her pretty little boyfriend. Maybe you'll pay them a visit. Or send someone to pay them a visit, anyway. [[Money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

You throw yourself forward, pitching over the small cliff onto an orange fist of rock. The way down is steeper than you thought. You slip on the surprisingly smooth surface of rock. Your scream is swallowed by the desert as you tumble ass over tea kettle down the outcropping. [[Your head slams onto a rock.|Javier]]

''//Javier//'' "Think that's Casey's money?" Eduardo asks. You stare down at the dead drifter. His backpack split open and vomitted money everywhere when he fell. You shrug. "Probably." "We need to get it back to the chief." Your hand wanders to the gun in your waistband. Out in the desert, anything can happen. And you aren't scared of the chief. Eduardo doesn't even see it coming. You pull the gun and shoot him in the head. Blood sprays onto the orange desert sand. You stoop down and take the money. [[Money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $javier to true)

"How'd you end up driftin'?" "I'm a vet. Not much room left for me in the world." "You fought in the war?" "I was in 'Nam, yeah." The man nods in silent approval. "Name's Javier, this is Eduardo." The man in the passenger seat waves. The rest of the drive is silent. Your shoulders are soaked in sweat. You chew at your chapped lips. Pray to god that the men don't ask to see what's in the bag. They pull up to the edge of a small, dusty town. "This okay, gringo?" You nod and get out of the car. "Thanks, fellas." [[Give them some money for their troubles.|confrontation]] [[Walk away.|survive]]

You watch the eyes of the men. They look at each other. You turn away, tugging nervously at your beard. The rest of the drive is silent. Your shoulders are soaked in sweat. You chew at your chapped lips. Pray to god that the men don't ask to see what's in the bag. They pull into a small, dusty town. "This okay, gringo?" You nod and get out of the car. "Thanks, fellas." [[Get out of the car.|out]]

You pull some singles out of your backpack and try to hand it to the driver. His eyes glitter like the edge of a knife. "Where'd you get that money, gringo?" He asks as he accepts the money. He runs his fingers over it. You shrug. He pulls a gun from his waistband. "Give me the backpack, hombre." You stare at him. [[Give him the backpack.|survive2]] [[Refuse.|die]]

You nod silently to the men. Without another word, the car takes off into the desert. You breathe a sigh of relief. You turn and wander into the small town. For the first time in a long time, you get to stay in a hotel. The next day, you buy a car from a local dealer. You haven't owned a car in a while. Your ex-wife took the car when she left you for her pretty little boyfriend. Maybe you'll pay them a visit. Or send someone to pay them a visit, anyway. [[Money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

"No." You stammer. "Fuck you." You turn and start running. But the bullet [[chases you into the back of your skull.|javier3]]

You stomach clenches like a fist. You slowly take the backpack off. "Put it in the backseat." The man says. You do. "Don't look so sad, gringo. Be glad you even got to keep your life." The car revs and drives away. You stare after it and feel another small part of yourself [[die.|javier2]]

''//Javier//'' You stare at the horizon as you drive. Plumes of gold sand billow out behind the car. The backpack full of money bounces around in the backseat. "Chief's gonna be happy with us," Eduardo comments as he munches on a bag of chips. "We got the money back. What do you think happened to Casey?" "Probably dead." "Think the drifter killed him?" "Nah, he didn't look like he had it in 'im." Your eyes slide towards the backpack. You push on the brake. "What, did you see something, bro?" Eduardo asks. You come to a halt. The desert seems to pound on the windows, trying to get in. You pull a gun. Eduardo stares at you. "Get out of the car." He does. You get out too. "Bro, what are you doing?" He sounds panicked. "Chief's gonna kill you if you take his money. Don't do this--" A gun shot echoes through the desert. You leave Eduaro's body in the dust as you drive away. [[You aren't scared of the Chief anymore.|Begin]] (set: $javier to true)

''//Javier//'' You stare at the horizon as you drive. Plumes of gold sand billow out behind the car. The backpack full of money bounces around in the backseat. "Chief's gonna be happy with us," Eduardo comments as he munches on a bag of chips. "We got the money back. What do you think happened to Casey?" "Probably dead." "Think the drifter killed him?" The drifter's body is in the trunk. "Nah, he didn't look like he had it in 'im." Your eyes slide towards the backpack. You push on the brake. "What, did you see something, bro?" Eduardo asks. You come to a halt. The desert seems to pound on the windows, trying to get in. You pull a gun. Eduardo stares at you. "Get out of the car." He does. You get out too. "Bro, what are you doing?" He sounds panicked. "Chief's gonna kill you if you take his money. Don't do this--" A gun shot echoes through the desert. You leave Eduaro's body in the dust as you drive away. [[You aren't scared of the Chief anymore.|Begin]] (set: $javier to true)

"Wait," the driver calls. You hesitantly turn and face him. "When you were out hiking, did you see or hear...anything strange?" [["No, I didn't."|lie2]] [["I think I may have heard gunshots."|truth2]] (set: $truth to true)

(if: $truth is true)["Gunshots?" He repeats. "Where did you hear gunshots?"](if: $lie is true)["Where did you hear them?"] "To the south." The man nods to his companion. "Gracias," he says. Without another word, the car takes off into the desert. You breathe a sigh of relief. You turn and wander into the small town. For the first time in a long time, you get to stay in a hotel. The next day, you buy a car from a local dealer. You haven't owned a car in a while. Your ex-wife took the car when she left you for her pretty little boyfriend. Maybe you'll pay them a visit. Or send someone to pay them a visit, anyway. [[Money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

"You sure about that, hombre?" "Yeah, I'm sure." "A'ight. See, because me and my friend heard gunshots when we were out there. Surprised you didn't." [["You must be mistaken."|lie3]] [["I think I might've heard something."|truth2]] (set: $lie to true)

"Hard to mistake the sound of gunshots." The man pulls his shirt up, revealing a gun in his waistband. "What's in your backpack?" You stutter but stay silent. "Give me the backpack, hombre." You stare at him. [[Give him the backpack.|survive2]] [[Refuse.|die]]

There's a teenaged girl behind the counter. You nod to her as you walk through the aisles. Bright white cooler cases line the back wall. You see bottles of water. You feel like your entire body is squelching as you practically run to the back of the store. You pass two Mexican men who are perusing shelves of chips. They glance at you, give you a look, but otherwise ignore you. You release the breath you didn't know you were holding. You grab a bottle of water and pay for it at the counter. "Hombre," a voice calls. You freeze. [[Turn and acknowledge them.|interact]] [[Ignore them and leave.|ignore]]

"Uh, hi, yeah, what do you need?" You turn and face the man. He's skinny with a shaven hand and a gold chain around his throat. "You got a single I could borrow? Don't have quite enough." He says in thickly accented English. [[Give him a single.|reveal]] [[Refuse him.|refuse]]

You pretend that you don't hear them and walk out of the store. That night, for the first time in a long time, you get to stay in a hotel. The next day, you buy a car from a local dealer. You haven't owned a car in a while. Your ex-wife took the car when she left you for her pretty little boyfriend. Maybe you'll pay them a visit. Or send someone to pay them a visit, anyway. [[Money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

You hesitantly reach into your backpack and pull out a single. You pass it to him. His eyes are glittering. You grab your bottle of water and run from the store. You find a hotel to spend the night. You glance over our shoulder constantly as you are checking in at the desk. That night, you barricade the door. You sit in the armchair in the corner of the room and stare at the door all night. When morning finally comes, your head feels fuzzy and thick. You blink and scrub at your eyes as you sling your bag on and go to the local car dealership. The car dealer leaves you alone to figure out which car you want. You stare at the car, fiddling with the keys. You can feel yourself nodding off. For the moment, a world goes dark. "Hey, hombre, how you doin'?" The two Mexican men are suddenly there. [["What do you want from me?"|pathetic]] [["Leave me alone."|aggressive]]

"Sorry, I don't have any change." You turn and walk out of the store. That night, for the first time in a long time, you get to stay in a hotel. The next day, you buy a car from a local dealer. You haven't owned a car in a while. Your ex-wife took the car when she left you for her pretty little boyfriend. Maybe you'll pay them a visit. Or send someone to pay them a visit, anyway. [[Money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

"Were you out in the desert yesterday, gringo?" The man asks. "No, I don't know what you want from me." You start to back away. "Look, I'm just a vet. My wife ditched me for her boyfriend and I lost my job and I have no money left. Please, just leave me alone." "Javier," the bigger man reaches out and puts his hand on Javier's shoulder. He says something in rapid Spanish. Javier glares into your face. Silently, the two men turn and walk away. "Did you decide which car you want, sir?" The dealer approaches you from behind. You almost punch him in the face. But you manage to buy the car without resorting to violence. Barely forty five minutes later, you are peeling out of the small town. You stare at the backpack, bouncing around in the backseat. It's dirty money, for sure. But money is money is money. [[And that money might finally let you get revenge on all the people who crossed you.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

"You got a problem, gringo?" The man practically snarls at you. "What's in the bag?" "That's none of your business. Get the fuck away from me." You turn away from the two men. "I'm just asking you a question." "I'm calling the police if you don't leave me alone--" A gun presses into your lower back. "You move, I shoot you. You're coming with us." [[Run.|flee2]] [[Follow their directions.|javier3]]

You whip around and punch the man in the face. He reels back, the gun flying from his hand. Before his friend can grab you, you climb into the car and lock the doors. The two men slam on the windows as you jam the keys into the ignition. The smaller of the two men tries running after you through the dealership lot. But he quickly gives up. You shoot out of town in your stolen vehicle, the backpack of money in the passenger seat. Jesus, this was some dirty money. But [[money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

You pretend that you don't hear them. You turn and walk out of the gas station, walking around the side of the building to set off into the desert. It isn't long before you hear them calling after you again. You dash the other way. There's a rocky outcropping in the distance. If you can jump down onto that, they might not follow you. You aren't in shape anymore, but you might be able to outrun them. There's shouting behind. You glance over your shoulder. The two men are pounding through the desert, chasing after you. You whip around and push yourself. You call on your days in the army and push yourself to just fucking run. [[Jump.|jump]]

You hesitantly reach into your backpack and pull out a single. You pass it to him. His eyes are glittering. "Looks like you've got a lot of money in there," the man says. "Hey, I don't want any trouble." The clerk says. "Where'd you get that money, gringo?" "Hey, what did I say--" The man pulls a gun and shoots the clerk. Blood sprays over the wall. You stare at the men as he levels the gun at you. "Give me the bag." [[Give him the backpack.|survive3]] [[Refuse.|die2]]

"Sorry, I don't have any change." You turn and walk out of the store. You don't know how long you walk. The sun begins to sink towards the horizon, like it's grown lethargic from the desert heat. The world seems to waver and warp in front of you. You reach a small town. That night, for the first time in a long time, you get to stay in a hotel. The next day, you buy a car from a local dealer. You haven't owned a car in a while. Your ex-wife took the car when she left you for her pretty little boyfriend. Maybe you'll pay them a visit. Or send someone to pay them a visit, anyway. [[Money is money is money.|Begin]] (set: $ennard2 to true)

You stomach clenches like a fist. You slowly take the backpack off. "Give it to me." The man says. You do. "Don't look so sad, gringo. Be glad you even got to keep your life. Unlike that poor bastard." He gestures to the dead clerk. The two men return to their car and drive away. You stare after it and feel another small part of yourself [[die.|javier2]]

"No." You stammer. "Fuck you." You turn and start running. But the bullet [[chases you into the back of your skull.|javier3]]

''//Morgan//'' This target has been more difficult to catch than you expected. You'd followed him across the country. And the prick just kept running. They had hired you to kill him and get back as much of the money as you could. You didn't care about the money. You never cared about the money. It was the chase. And he'd given you a decent chase. Not a great one, but you had your fun. And now it was over. [["Do you want to play a game with me?"|game]] (set: $morgan to true) (set: $Ennard to false)

He stares at you. "Aren't you going to kill me?" He seems resigned to it. No, no, no, that's not how you wanted this to go. "I don't know. Play my game and you'll find out." He stares at you. "What do you want from me?" "I want to have some fun." You smile. "You put up a good chase. Never gave up, that's for sure. Was it worth it? For the money?" He is silent. "I don't know." He sighs. He's already checked out. Your grip tightens on the gun. [["Play my game and I might let you live."|hope]] [["Do you want to die?"|question]]

He looks at you in disbelief. "They hired you to kill me." "They did." "Then why...?" You shrug. "You put up a good chase. I can respect that." "Won't they kill you for letting me go?" [["No one can kill me."|cocky]] [["Does it matter?"|lull]]

"I'm sick of running," he says. He even smiles a little. "I had my fun. But..." You hate the dead look in his eye. He looks at you and he doesn't seem afraid. [["I'll make it hurt."|anger]] [["Play a game with me. Maybe I'll let you go."|hope]]

He stares at the floor. "I don't care anymore." "Oh, you will care when I have you screaming." He flinches. You smile. "Look at me." He does. He looks afraid. That makes you happy. "I'll make it quick." [[You pull the trigger.|Begin]]

He narrows his eyes. "Just get it over with." You grind your teeth. Bastard. He's taking all of the fun out of it. But you don't feel like playing with your food much longer. [["Play my game."|game2]] [[Kill him.|trigger]]

"So if I play this game..." "There's a fifty-fifty chance you walk out of this room alive." He looks at you. His eyes sparkle with hope. "Okay...[[I'll play."|game2]]

You fish a coin out of your pocket. You flip the coin in the air. "Call it." "Heads." You lift your hand away. Heads. [[Kill him.|truetoword]] [[Let him live.|luckyday]]

"Well, now I have lost all respect for our chase," you say. "You took all the fun out of it." You lift the gun and [[pull the trigger.|Begin]]

The man looks up at you. He's relieved. Practically glowing with hope. You lift the gun and aim it at his forehead. All of the hope in his eyes dies. You laugh. You like the way he flinches. "Do I look like a man of my word?" You [[pull the trigger.|Begin]]

"Well, today is your lucky day." You climb to your feet. "A-are you serious?" "I am a man of my word." You say. You stuff the coin in your pocket. "Too bad you already threw the money away." As you leave, [[you start whistling.|Begin]]

''//Javier//'' Eduardo loudly munches on chips next to you. You feel like a swollen water balloon about to pop. It's taking every ounce of your self-control not to reel back and punch Eduardo in the face. Knock those damn chips out of his mouth and his hand. A hand touches your shoulder. You look up. A young woman is smiling at you. She leans forward so you can see straight down her shirt to her pierced belly button. There's lipstick on her teeth. "Not interested," you say. You turn away and stare down into the Pit. Two fighter grapple, their bodies slick with sweat in the dim orange light. Their muscles strain as they go at each other, again and again. A haze of cigarette smoke makes the fight club feel small and cramped. "Don't mind him, he's just a sulk." Eduardo says. The young woman releases a tinkling laugh. [["Shut the fuck up, Eduardo."|anger2]] [[Stay silent.|silence3]] (set: $javier to false)

You listen to Eduardo and the young woman flirt with each other. It makes you cringe. You watch the fight continue below you. The bigger of the two men brings his arm back and punches his opponent. It sends the other man flying, blood spraying from his nose. But he doesn't give up. Scrappy little bastard. "Javier," a familiar voice speaks up behind you. Your shoulders tighten. [[Turn and face him.|drugchief]] [[Pretend that you didn't hear him.|pretend]]

"Whoa, hombre, chill," Eduardo gives a belly laugh. Your head snaps around. People scream as the fight continues. "What'd you just fucking say to me?" Eduardo stares at you through squinted eyes. He has one arm lazily wrapped around the young woman. Her eyes dart back and forth between you two like nervous lizards. "Just enjoy your drink, mi amigo." He says. [[Let it go.|letgo]] [["Don't fucking talk to me like that, Eduardo."|confront3]]

''//Adam//'' "How do you like being a cop so far?" Jana asks. You tear your gaze away from the window to look at your sister. She sits down next to you at the kitchen table. Outside, snow buffets against the house. It smells like turkey and apple pie in the kitchen. "It's...fine." You say. You reach out and take a sip of wine. Jana watches you. Her eyes are the same color as yours. She's wearing a little too much makeup but she's still pretty. "I know you better than that, Adam." You sigh. (set: $morgan to false)

You pick up your beer and take a hard swallow. Eduardo goes back to entertaining the whore. You look down at into the fight pits. You hate this lifestyle. It's your dad's fault that you have to work for the Chief. He got your entire family in debt and you and your sister had to shoulder it when he OD'd. Your heart feels hollow and dark when you think of Luisa. You force your eyes to stay on the fight, or you might rake your gaze through the crowd and try to find her. See her debasing herself as a whore to some greasy-fingered fuck. "Javier, Eduardo." You flinch. [[It's the Chief.|drugchief]]

"Whoa, Jesus, hombre, calm down," Eduardo holds up a placating hand. Your chest heaves as you glare at him. You're seeing red. Your hands clench and unclench. "Tell me to calm down again, I dare you." You're getting lightheaded. Just hit him. Get the anger out. It's the only way you know how-- "Is there a problem here, fellas?" An unfamiliar voice says. You turn. A gringo in all black stands behind you. You don't normally pay much attention to pale ass gringos, but something about him gives you pause. He's not big, but he sends out a vibe that makes you take a step back. [[The Chief is next to him.|drugchief2]]

You watch the fight. The small fighter managed to catch his opponent off guard. They're both on the ground now, dust clinging to their sweaty skin. The small fighter sits on top of the other man, bringing his fist down over and over, until blood and teeth are spraying everywhere. "Javier, Eduardo." The Chief puts some steel in his voice. You finally turn and face him. He looks like he could be someone's grandpa. And he looks pissed that you tried to ignore him. "Buenas noches, Chief." Eduardo gives a respectful head nod. After a small pause, you incline your head. "Look at me, Javier," The Chief says in a quiet voice. [[Look at him.|putinplace]] [[Refuse.|reject]]

He's your boss. You need to acknowledge him. The Chief is the top dog in this part of New Mexico. He only came on the scene a few years ago, but he's already made himself a nasty reputation. You'd never look at him. He looks like someone's grandpa. You started working for him a few years ago, just a small time enforcer who makes sure he gets his money. "Enjoying the fight, my friend?" The Chief takes a step forward. You and Eduardo slide off your bar stools and bend your heads to him. You notice a gringo standing next to him, pale with dark hair. You wouldn't think much of him, if he didn't look like he'd go off at any minute and kill everyone in sight. "Yes, sir," you both say. [["I have a job for you two."|listen2]]

"Javier and I were just having a, uh, discussion," Eduardo says. He pushes off his barstool, and the whore goes running. The gringo watches her in a way you don't like. Your jaw tightens. "Everything's cool." The gringo smiles. It sends a shiver down your spine. He's like a smiling shark. The Chief watches you. You get off the barstool and duck your head to him. "Please, gentleman, if I may introduce my friend, Morgan. He's in town for some business." the Chief pats the gringo's shoulder. "Now, I do have a job for you two." [[Listen to the Chief.|listen2]] [[Shake Morgan's hand.|shakehand]]

When you and Eduardo stay obediently silent, the Chief goes on. "A new dealer of mine, Casey, never came back last night. I need you two to track him down and bring him back." "Si," Eduardo bobbles his head like a whipped dog. The Chief relays some more information that you don't listen to and turns to walk away. You glance up at the Chief and his gringo friend. Morgan is watching you. Your eyes lock. Your neck stiffens. His eyes are dark. You refuse to drop your gaze first like a little bitch. "Is something wrong, Morgan?" The Chief pauses. "Nothing, my friend." Morgan's eyes narrow. "If you don't mind, I'm going to stay down here and watch the rest of the fight. It's a good view." "Of course." The Chief nods. "You know where to find me." He leaves. [["What's your deal, gringo?"|morganfight]] [[Gesture to Eduardo and get the hell away from the gringo.|walkaway]]

You extend your hand to Morgan. "Name's Javier," you say. Morgan doesn't even hesitate. He grasps your hand in a bruising grip. "Nice to meet you, Javier," the gringo smiles. You both stay locked in your handshake, eyes burning into each other. You refuse to look away first like a little bitch. "Pardon me, Javier, but I have a job for you." The Chief says. His voice is sharp enough to cut glass. You force yourself to release the gringo's hand and take a step back. "I need you and Eduardo to track down a new dealer of mine, Casey. He hasn't come back yet." "Si," Eduardo reaches out and touches your shoulder. You shrug his hand off. The gringo is watching you. [["You got a problem, gringo?"|morganfight2]] [[Stay silent.|silence6]]

"What's //my// deal?" The gringo tries to look innocent. It's like a coyote pretending he isn't about to dig his teeth into the rabbit pinned under his claws. "Why, I have no deal, my friend." [["I'm not your friend."|lashout]] [["Who are you?"|intro3]]

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"Don't get cute with me, Javier." The Chief has his hands folded primly over his stomach. You glare at his well-trimmed mustache. "You're lucky your sister isn't part of my personal harem yet." A red haze fogs your vision. The smell of alcohol and sweat and blood and cigarettes makes your head feel tight and overfull. You clench your jaw. "I have a job for the two of you." "Si," Eduardo bows his head like a whipped bitch. You barely stop yourself from glaring at him. "A new dealer of mine, Casey, was supposed to return with a package last night. He never did. I need you two to track him down." "Yes, sir." The Chief smiles. It's not as scary as the gringo's. You watch the two men walk away. "Jesus, Javier, don't poke the fucking bear." Eduardo says. [["Stay the fuck out of it, Eduardo."|snap]] [["He threatened Luisa."|anger4]]

Hard fingers close around your jaw and force your face up. You find yourself looking into the smirking face of an ugly gringo. He smiles at you, looking like a shark about to take a bite out of you. "This is my friend, Morgan. He likes disrespect as much as I do." The Chief comes forward. "Don't push me, Javier. I'll put your sister at the corner of Cactus Blossom and make sure her johns aren't as pretty as her." Your heart pounds. You hate hearing the Chief talk about Luisa. It's your dad's fault that you and Luisa have to work for the Chief. He put your entire family in debt with his drug use. You hate him. You thought you would never be able to hate anyone more than your father. But you think you hate the Chief more. [["Yes, sir."|ocncede2]]

The gringo gives your face an affectionate pat before withdrawing. You thought you were mad when Eduardo was munching his stupid chips in your ear. That's nothing compared to what you feel when you look at the gringo Morgan. "Now that we've settled that," the Chief folds his hands primly over his stomach. He has neat, smooth fingers. Never lifted his finger to work. "I have a job for you two gentlemen." "Si," Eduardo bows his head like a whipped bitch. You barely stop yourself from glaring at him. "A new dealer of mine, Casey, was supposed to return with a package last night. He never did. I need you two to track him down." "Yes, sir." The Chief smiles. It's not as scary as the gringo's. You watch the two men walk away. "Jesus, Javier, don't poke the fucking bear." Eduardo says. [["Stay the fuck out of it, Eduardo."|snap]] [["He threatened Luisa."|anger4]] (set: $concede to true)

Eduardo looks at you for a second. "We should probably get going. Find this gringo Casey." (if: $concede is true)[You stare down at the fighters. One of the men is dead. You see a glimpse of curly hair as the winner steps out of the ring. You don't focus on the young woman who wraps herself around the winner. It might not be Luisa. It might be Luisa.] If you just had the money... "Let's go, hombre." Eduardo says. (if: $concede is true)[You and Eduardo leave the fight club. The horizon cringes with yellow and orange light, on the cusp of dawn.] You walk in silence. "Guess he has a lot of money on him," Eduardo says. "He was going to pick up meth from a dealer for an up and coming kingpin..." You think for a moment. You check to make sure your gun is loaded before getting into the car with Eduardo. [[Drug deals gone wrong all the time.|Begin]]

"Hombre..." "She's my sister." You bury your head in your hands. The Chief has told you that you can work off your debt. But you know that's bullshit. You and Luisa are both going to work for him forever. If you just had money... (if: $concede is true)["We should probably get going. Try to find Casey. Is that the gringo? It sounds like a gringo." You and Eduardo silently walk out of the fight club. The horizon cringes with yellow and orange light, on the cusp of dawn.] "Guess he has a lot of money on him," Eduardo says. "He was going to pick up meth from a dealer for an up and coming kingpin..." You think for a moment. You check to make sure your gun is loaded before getting into the car with Eduardo. [[Drug deals go wrong all the time.|Begin]]

"Javier," the Chief says. Eduardo touches your elbow. You turn and shove him away. His long legs tangle with a bar stool and he tumbles to the ground. A noticeable silence infects the people standing immediately around you. "You have a lot of spunk, honey. I like that." Morgan spreads his arms. "Take a swing." [[Punch him.|punch1]] [[Stand down.|surrender]]

You stay silence, glaring at the gringo. Morgan is watching you. Your eyes lock. Your neck stiffens. His eyes are dark. You refuse to drop your gaze first like a little bitch. "Is something wrong, Morgan?" The Chief pauses. "Nothing, my friend." Morgan's eyes narrow. "If you don't mind, I'm going to stay down here and watch the rest of the fight. It's a good view." "Of course." The Chief nods. "You know where to find me." He leaves. [["What's your deal, gringo?"|morganfight]] [[Gesture to Eduardo and get the hell away from the gringo.|walkaway]]

You don't hold back. You cock back your arm and take a swing. The gringo isn't there anymore. You whip around. He danced out of the way so fast that you didn't even see him move. "Come on, I know you've got more fight in you than that." The gringo taunts. [[Take another swing.|punch2]] [[Stand down.|surrender2]]

You clench your fist until your knuckles turn white. "Really? Aw, come on, honey, I am disappointed." The gringo gets in your face, until you can feel his hot breath on your cheeks. He's whispering to you like you're a child. "Do you even have any balls? Or has the big bad Chief castrated you." [[Get the rage out of your system.|punch1]] [[Don't let him get to you.|taunts1]]

You reel back to take another swing. "Javier." It's the Chief. It takes every bit of effort in your body to drop your arm and take a step away from the gringo fucker. "Go. Now. We will talk about your indiscretions later." The Chief looks fucking pissed. "Hombre, let's go." Eduardo grabs your shoulder. You let him drag you from the fight club. The horizon cringes with yellow and orange light, on the cusp of dawn. "Jesus, Javier, don't poke the fucking bear." Eduardo says. [["Stay the fuck out of it, Eduardo."|snap]] [["He talked about Luisa."|anger4]]

No, this is what he wants. He's mocking you. "Javier!" Eduardo calls. You drop your hands to your sides. The gringo smiles at you. "You got pretty eyes for a boy, eyes that I think I have seen before." Morgan smiles. "Are you related to a little whore named Luisa?" [[No. No, he's not allowed to talk about your sister.|punch2]] [[Don't. Give. In.|taunts2]]

You refuse to give in to this gringo fuck. He stares at you. You lift your chin. Daring him. "You got pretty eyes for a boy, eyes that I think I have seen before." Morgan smiles. "Are you related to a little whore named Luisa?" [[No. No, he's not allowed to talk about your sister.|punch1]] [[Don't. Give. In.|taunts2]]

"You're adorable when you're mad," the gringo laughs. "You look like a little boy that didn't get his way. Go pull on some whore's pigtails." Morgan glances back at the Chief. "I have work to do. I'll talk to you later, my friend." The Chief inclines his head to his friend. Once the gringo is gone, you turn to the Chief and wait for the explosion. "Go. Now. We will talk about your indiscretions later." The Chief looks fucking pissed. "Hombre, let's go." Eduardo grabs your shoulder. You let him drag you from the fight club. The horizon cringes with yellow and orange light, on the cusp of dawn. "Jesus, Javier, don't poke the fucking bear." Eduardo says. [["Stay the fuck out of it, Eduardo."|snap]] [["He talked about Luisa."|anger4]]

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The gringo smiles and laughs. "No, I guess not," he says. "I did get to make a new friend last night though. Great piece of ass, fantastic tits. One of the Chief's pretty whores. What was her name again?" Morgan meets your gaze. "Her name was Luisa. You know, she had the exact same eyes as you." He's talking about your sister. Your sister. [[Hit him.|punch3]] [[Don't give in to his tricks.|backdown]]

Morgan flashes a brillant white smile. "I'm just a normal guy." He spreads his arms. "Totally normal and nonthreatening." You stare at him. He looks like the kind of guy who goes back on his word. There's an outcry as something happens in the fight pit. The gringo's eyes brighten. He brushes past you to lean over the railing and stare into the pit. You look down. The smaller man got the upper hand on his opponent. The big man is pinned down, the small man straddling his waist. His blood soaked knuckles shine in the light. You watch him beat the other man's face into raw meat. [["You like the fight pits?"|chat]] [[Stay silent.|observe]]

You pull back and punch him. Your knuckles collide with his jaw. There's a meaty thud. Morgan stumbles back, blood dripping from his mouth. He gingerly touches his mouth, examining the puddle of crimson on the tip of his finger. He smiles. Eduardo grabs your arm. "Hombre, we need to leave." You struggle against him. You'll kill this sick fucker. But Eduardo is bigger than you. He wraps an arm around your middle and drags you away. You keep eye contact with Morgan. His smile turns predatory. You'll find him one day, and you'll kill him. Eduardo drags you [[outside.|outside]]

You fight against the tide of anger that rises inside of you. Don't let him get the better of you. You stare at the ground, your chest heaving. Morgan rolls his eyes. "And here I thought you'd be more fun to play with. You won't even stick up for your own sister." [[Hit him.|punch3]] [[No. Don't listen to him.|leave2]]

Eduardo throws you onto the sidewalk. You scramble to your feet. A crimson fog clings to your eyes. You are practically shaking with the need to hit something. "Jesus, Javier, don't poke the fucking bear." Eduardo says. [["Stay the fuck out of it, Eduardo."|snap]] [["He talked about Luisa."|anger4]]

Your head is pounding. But you won't let this gringo fuck get the better of you. You turn and gesture to Eduardo. He nods, and you silently walk away. "Little fucking bitch," Morgan calls after you. You refuse to turn around and look at him. You and Eduardo leave the fight club. "Good for you, not giving in." Eduardo says. You don't say anything. You're thinking of Luisa. The Chief has told you that you can work off your debt. But you know that's bullshit. You and Luisa are both going to work for him forever. If you just had money... "Let's just go find this gringo. Guess he up and vanished with a lot of money. Little fucker probably ran off with it..." You think for a moment. You check to make sure your gun is loaded before getting into the car with Eduardo. [[Drug deals went wrong all the time.|Begin]]

"I got my start in the fight pits," the gringo says. "Ah, I miss those days. So much less complicated. Just beat the fuck out of the person in front of you. The money and whores were just a perk." Morgan pushes away from the railing and assesses you. "You ever fight in the pits?" [["No."|chat2]] [[Don't answer him.|leave3]]

The big man is dead. The winner jumps off his corpse and there's a roar from the crowd. As he shuffles out of the pit, a petite whore with curly brown hair wraps herself around him. You look away. It might not be Luisa. It might be Luisa. She has to whore herself out. Because you weren't man enough to shoulder your dad's debt. You swallow hard and turn away from the fight pits. "What, can't handle the sight of a little blood?" The gringo says. [["Fuck off."|straightforward]] [[Ignore him.|evasion]]

"It's quite the rush, let me tell you. You can make fucking bank in those pits." The gringo smirks. "What's your profession, Javier? Enforcer, dealer...?" [["I'm just an enforcer."|chat3]] [[Don't answer.|leave3]]

You choose not to answer him. "What, cat got your tongue?" Morgan says. "I have to go deal with something," you say. You turn away from him. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Javier. Hopefully we can chat again some time soon." You ignore him, gesturing to Eduardo. He slinks out of a whore's hold and follows you outside. "That gringo gave me the creeps." Eduardo says. You silently agree. You hate thinking that men like that are even within a mile of your sister, Luisa. You think about what he said. He likes whores. Your sister had to become one of the Chief's prostitutes when you couldn't carry the burden of dad's debt alone. If you just had the money, you could get you and your sister out of this lifestyle. The Chief has told you that you can work off your debt. But you know that's bullshit. You and Luisa are both going to work for him forever. If you just had money... "Let's just go find this gringo. Guess he up and vanished with a lot of money. Little fucker probably ran off with it..." You think for a moment. You check to make sure your gun is loaded before getting into the car with Eduardo. [[Drug deals went wrong all the time.|Begin]]

"You ever think about rising through the ranks? I'm sure you could. You seem like a determined fucker." [["I hate this lifestyle."|chat4]] [[Don't answer him.|leave3]]

Morgan raises his eyebrows. "Honesty. That's not something you come across much in this world." The gringo rubs his jaw. "You're a naive bastard." Your hands tighten into fists. He looks at you, and his expression is oddly sincere. "Don't let people see you, honey. That's a weakness." You don't like hearing him call you weak, even if it's in a roundabout way. [["I'm not weak."|chat5]] [[You don't want to continue this conversation.|leave3]]

"I didn't call you weak, boy. I told you that you have a weakness. There's a difference." Morgan inclines his head. His dark eyes are shiny. You don't know why you're being so open with him. "If you hate this lifestyle so much, why are you here? Wait, no, I can guess. Family. Debt. Someone in your family got you in deep shit, and now have to work the debt off. But I know the Chief. Your debt will never go away. Interest rates go up, you know? You'd need to present the Chief a fucking suitcase full of hundreds to get him to let you go. Even then, he probably wouldn't let you go. He's not a generous man. Maybe you could use that metaphorical suitcase of money to get your ass out of dodge. Money is money is money, baby. That's the only thing that matters in this world. Money. And fucking, but that's another conversation. You got enough money, you can get anywhere in life. Literally and metaphorically." You are quiet through his entire rant. He glances at you. "Sorry, sometimes I go off on Shakespearean soliloquies. Don't mind me. I'm getting old. Speaking in cliches." [["Where do you find that kind of money?"|chat6]] [["I'm not much of a Shakespeare guy."|chat7]]

Morgan strokes his jaw. "You usually don't come by money like that clean." He looks at you. "You gotta get your hands dirty." You think about that for a minute. "Well, I've enjoyed our conversation, Javier. I hope we can chat again sometime soon." Morgan turns and walks away, whistling under his breath. "What a weird fucker." Eduardo says as he sidles up next to you. You aren't sure you agree. "Come on, let's go find this gringo Casey." Eduardo shakes his head as you walk from the club. "Guess this fucker ran off with a lot of money..." You head towards your car. Dawn cringes along the horizon, yellow and orange. You think of this gringo Casey, his "suitcase" full of money. You check to make sure your gun is loaded before you get in the car. [[Drug deals go wrong all the time.|Begin]]

The gringo startles you by laughing. "Oh, I knew there was something interesting about you." He pats your shoulder. You flinch out of his grip. He doesn't seem to mind. "Well, I've enjoyed our conversation, Javier. I hope we can chat again sometime soon." Morgan turns and walks away, whistling under his breath. "Jesus, that fucker is weird." Eduardo mutters behind you. You silently agree. "Come on, let's go find this gringo Casey." Eduardo shakes his head as you walk from the club. "Guess this fucker ran off with a lot of money..." //"Your debt will never go away."// You head towards your car. Dawn cringes along the horizon, yellow and orange. //"You get enough money, you can go anywhere in life."// You check to make sure your gun is loaded before you get in the car. [[Drug deals go wrong all the time.|Begin]]

"Hey, I was just making sure I wouldn't have to catch you if you fainted." Morgan laughs. You grit your teeth. [["Leave me alone."|lashback]] [[Don't let him know he gets to you.|surrender]]

You pretend that you didn't hear the gringo speak. You catch him smiling in your peripherals. Two more fighters enter the pit. One is covered in tattoos. The other has a long ponytail and three lip rings. Dust kicks up under their feet as they go at each other. It doesn't take long before blood is flowing. "I used to fight in the pits," Morgan goes on. "Made fucking bank. Got my pick of whores too. And man, did I love just fucking hurting people. It really gets the rage out of your system." You flinch. You like hurting people too. You don't want to think that you have anything in common with this freaky fuck. "You ever fight in the pits?" [["No."|chat2]] [[Don't answer him.|leave3]]

"Well, you have quite the attitude, young man," the gringo says. "It's rude to talk to your betters that way." He could go fuck himself. "I'm just trying to make some new friends." He goes on. [["I'm not your friend.|lashout]]