Plot For Gold

"Aye you gon hit that Ace?"

Ace, loosely holding a blunt in his wispy white fingers, shakes his head.

"Nah go ahead, Nate." Nate looking at him with an irritated glance takes the blunt and proceeds to take long, deep inhales.

"You know what yo problem is Ace?" not waiting for an answer, " you can't enjoy when you get ahead dog. We good. Nothing on the po-lice scanner ID'd us, ain't nobody but me and you was there for the lick, we good man."

Ace aimlessly stares at the deeply stained motel walls, not even bothering to watch the television playing the news.

"Look" Nate points at his phone," we gonna go south to my cousin's in Jacksonville, chill there for a while." Ace's head slowly turns to Nate's bright phone lighting up the dim room. The screen shows a picture of a chubby Hispanic man on a beach with his arm wrapped around a frail-looking blonde woman.

"Alright, man." Ace lays back onto the bed, turning his head back to Nate who's already getting comfy on his bed, "we got twenty grand off a dude that nobody knows anything about... I ain't worried about the cops Nate." Nate doesn't respond, hiding his own apparent fear with silence.

The morning comes slowly, Ace tosses and turns hardly getting an hour of sleep. Nate snores loudly while dawn creeps through the blinds and sheds light on the two in their beds. Ace rifles through the duffel bag they used to collect their loot. He stops on a miniature safe they hadn't tried to open. Ace puts it on the bed, tinkering with the combination lock. After thirty minutes he gives up, getting up to go to the bathroom. When he comes back in the room, the safe is open with Nate sitting next to it.

"Damn how'd you get that open Nate?"

"I thought you got it open." Says Nate as he flips through what seems to be a black leather-bound journal.

"What's it say?" Asks Ace.

"Just a bunch of random lines" he throws it on the bed, "alright Imma take a piss then we gotta get moving."

Ace picks the journal up, it seems to be worn, but still in good shape. On the front cover is a circle with a cross through it. He flips to the inside cover, and in bold lettering, it says "PROPERTY OF KEENAN O'CONNOR, Ní féidir ach iad siúd a bhfuil fuil Cheilteach acu a léamh(ONLY THOSE WITH THE BLOOD OF THE CELTS MAY READ)".

Ace flips to the first page filled with beautifully handwritten Irish runes. At first, they seem foreign, but the more Ace looks, he begins to understand as it reads---

Nathan isn't your friend Ace Aleksander. Keep your guard up, he's already plotting against you. Don't do what he asks.

Ace looks up as Nate walks out of the bathroom with an angry expression on his face.

"Quit with that useless shit bruh we gotta leave. Go take a shower you stink."

Ace stands up, but remembers what the journal said: "don't do what he asks". He shakes his head.

"Nah man let's just go, who knows who saw us come in the motel." Nate gives him a stern look, but nods his head in agreement. Gathering up their belongings, eventually both reach for the duffel bag. They look at each other for a moment, but Nate nods again and lets Ace pick it up.

Hopping into a beat-up Nissan Altima they head south. Nate drives as Ace grabs the journal out of his bag.

"You kept that thing huh?" Nate says giving him a sideways glance.

" Maybe it can tell us something about this guy" he points to the name KEENAN O'CONNOR.

"Might be a leprechaun" says Nate laughing.

Ace ignores him and continues to read the first page.

When the sun dips marking dusk, take the wheel of the car and veer to the right. The blood of your ancestors will provide protection. If you don't, Nathan will have the upper hand and kill you.

Hours pass and the dusk comes as the Nate speeds along a two-lane highway. To the right is a long drop-off to a dense forest. Ace looks at Nate, mustering up the courage to do what the journal asks. In a fit of impulse, he reaches for the wheel and pulls hard to the right as Nate screams and curses at him. The car plummets toward the forest, crashing into a gargantuan Oak tree that demolishes the front of the car, then falls ten more feet backward, the vehicle settling upside-down with plumes of smoke coming from the engine.

Ace looks over at Nate, his bloody head hangs lifelessly, dead eyes blankly staring at what used to be the dash. No driver-side airbags deployed. Ace undoes his seatbelt and crawls out of the car, his arm throbbing, and his head ringing. Over the hissing of the destroyed vehicle Ace hears the faint beat of a drum. He goes to retrieve the duffel bag and the journal. Upon retrieval he stands up shakily, the beat of drums becoming louder in his ears.

With a sudden -thunk- Ace feels excruciating pain in his abdomen and looks down to see the black tip of a spear protruding from his belly. Sinking to his knees the drum beats stop, and a deep cackle replaces it. He feels someone grab the spear and screams in agony as they rip it out from behind. Ace falls to his back, blood pouring from his mouth and stomach. He looks up at his killer who stares at him with large, deeply green eyes. He wears a sickeningly sinister grin, all of his teeth shining a lustrous yellow gold, the remnants of the sunlight dancing off each golden tooth.

"I believe you have something of mine."