Lunar Reckoning

The air hung like a wet blanket, smelling of brackish water and diesel fumes. Leo shivered, not from the cold—it wasn’t cold enough for that—but from the damp seeped into his bones, and the knot tightening in his gut. Vinnie was late. Always late, always testing the edges of a man’s patience, but tonight, it felt different. Tonight, every tick of his cheap watch felt like a hammer striking an anvil in the quiet, broken-down lot behind the old cannery. The moon, a sliver of bone, sliced through the cloud cover, throwing long, distorted shapes across the cracked asphalt. Every shadow seemed to twitch, to hold something unseen, something dangerous.

He leaned against the rust-pitted side of his ’78 Ford, the metal cool against his worn jacket. Three days. Three days since the job, and Vinnie had been as useful as a screen door on a submarine during the pull-out. Leo had done the heavy lifting, the careful planning, the quick thinking when the alarm finally chirped. Vinnie, bless his twitchy heart, had nearly dropped the bag of gems right there on the polished floor. Leo could still hear the metallic clink, could still feel the rush of adrenaline as he’d scooped them up, praying to a God he didn’t believe in that no one had heard it over the sirens already wailing in the distance.

Now, the payoff. The final act. Supposed to be clean. Split the take, walk away, never look back. But Vinnie’s radio silence for two whole days had set Leo’s teeth on edge. He’d tried the burner phone, just a dead signal. Had Vinnie bolted? The thought crawled like a spider down his neck. No, Vinnie wasn’t smart enough to pull off a solo disappearing act. Or maybe he was just scared. Too scared to face Leo with bad news. Or, worse, with a short count.

Headlights cut through the gloom, a sudden, blinding flash that made Leo flinch. A beat-up sedan, not Vinnie’s usual ride, lurched over the curb and idled a few yards away. The engine coughed, then died, leaving an unnatural quiet. Vinnie emerged, his silhouette broad and slouching, moving slow. Too slow. His hand was tucked deep into his jacket pocket, a tell-tale sign. Leo straightened, pushing off the Ford. His own hand drifted, casual-like, to the small of his back where the weight of the .38 felt familiar, comforting.

“What took you?” Leo’s voice was flat, no accusation, just fact. He watched Vinnie’s eyes, trying to read the shiftiness, the fear, the greedy flicker he’d seen too many times.

Vinnie shrugged, a nervous twitch in his shoulder. “Traffic, you know.” He glanced around, his gaze darting from the skeletal remains of the cannery to the distant city lights. “Place gives me the creeps.”

“Let’s not make it worse then,” Leo said. “The box. You got it?”

Vinnie hesitated, then pulled a small, battered metal box from his jacket. It looked lighter than it should have. Too light. Leo’s stomach twisted. He took it, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his palm. His fingers fumbled with the latch, the click loud in the stillness. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded velvet, were the diamonds. Or, some of them. A good pile, yeah, but not the pile they’d taken. Not even close. A good quarter, maybe a third, was just… gone.

He looked up, his eyes locking with Vinnie’s. The moonlight caught the sweat beading on Vinnie’s forehead, the way his jaw worked. “What is this?” Leo’s voice was a low growl now, dangerous. “This ain’t it, Vinnie. Not even close.”

Vinnie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Look, man, things got… complicated. Had to lighten the load, you know? Heat was on. I did us a favor. Took the pressure off.” He laughed, a short, brittle sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “We still got enough to make a fresh start. More than enough.”

“Enough for who?” Leo took a slow step forward, then another. Vinnie’s hand, still in his pocket, tightened. The shadows stretched and pulled around them, making them seem like wraiths circling each other. Leo felt a cold fury, not just at the stolen gems, but at the sheer disrespect, the assumption that Leo was stupid. That he’d just roll over. He’d known Vinnie was unreliable, but this? This was a whole new level of dumb greed. He remembered the metallic clink, Vinnie fumbling, the way Vinnie always looked at the biggest stones, his eyes alight with something dangerous.

“Leo, calm down, man.” Vinnie’s voice was a little higher now. “Don’t do anything stupid. We can still work this out. Fifty-fifty, like we said.”

“Fifty-fifty of what, Vinnie?” Leo asked, his voice barely a whisper. The box, still open in his hand, felt heavy now, like a stone. He raised it slightly, letting the moonlight catch the remaining diamonds, glittering like tiny, cold eyes. “This ain’t half of what we took. This ain’t even half of what you were supposed to bring.” He saw the fear truly bloom in Vinnie’s face, the moment Vinnie realized Leo wasn’t buying the lie, wasn’t going to just walk away. Vinnie’s hand started to pull something from his pocket. Leo didn't wait. He threw the box with all his might, a glittering cascade, right at Vinnie’s face. Then he moved, a blur of motion, into the deep, hungry shadows.

The diamonds scattered, tiny pinpricks of light on the asphalt. Vinnie roared, a flash of metal in his hand, just as Leo hit him low, a shoulder to the chest, driving the air from his lungs. They tumbled, grappling in the grime and the gravel, the sliver of moon watching impassively. Leo felt the cold steel of a blade graze his ribs, tasted blood, but he kept going, kept pushing, kept fighting for every last breath, for every stolen stone. For the principle of the goddamn thing. The sound of a single, muffled gunshot echoed off the corrugated metal walls of the cannery. Then, a sudden, profound quiet, broken only by the distant hum of the city, and the slow, deliberate drip of something warm onto the gritty ground.