Nothin' Good Happens After Midnight

I enter the quaint, country diner and do a furtive scan of the faces before settling down. I’m never complacent, I can’t afford to be. I’m a man on the run.

Most of the patrons are regulars, and the unfamiliar faces don’t register as threats. I feel comfortable enough to enter. I haven’t been in public for a long time. I need a change of scenery before I start feeling the walls closing in on me back at the little cabin. I can’t be too careful these days, they could come at any time. On my way here I took extra turns, while constantly looking into my rearview mirror making sure I wasn’t followed. Before letting my heightened guard down, I glance over my shoulder, to the left, right, and left again. I don’t see anything that causes alarm. I take a seat where I can clearly see both exits and the kitchen door. These precautions are just in case I have to make a hasty retreat. I wasn’t always this paranoid, but since thefateful day Brian brought that little brown package home, we both have been on the run.

Before this exhausting new life of fear and heightened paranoia, I lived a mundane existence. It all changed late one night while stocking shelves at the grocery store. I worked the midnight shift, and around 2 am I took a break for a snack and smoke. I liked to sit in my car with the windows down on cool nights and enjoy some fresh air. While contemplating thoughts of weekend plans, I noticed a car pull into the parking lot. On any given night we get late night shoppers with the munchies looking for sugary and salty snacks, but this store isn’t open 24 hours. Normally I don’t pay much attention to the midnight tokers, because once you make eye contact, they tap on the glass begging to be let in. It’s quite distracting, and makes me feel like I’m in a zoo exhibit.

This guy had my attention though. He made two slow laps around the perimeter, like he was searching for the perfect parking spot, then stopped next to a light pole. I’m invested now. I’m sure he doesn’t see me because I’m slumped down and partially stretched out. I should’ve returned already, but I had to see what this guy was up to. As I said, my life was boring and this scene could turn out to be an interesting story. I can’t see what is going on inside the car but the driver seemed to be sitting still, waiting. I scanned the parking lot. Was he waiting for someone else? No one showed and just when I thought he had fallen asleep, the door opened. He didn’t stand when he exited. It’s almost as if he oozed himself out of the car. Combining his actions with his dark clothes, he resembled a shadow, or a mythical creature born of night. If it wasn’t for the glaring light from the lamps above, I would have thought I was watching the beginnings of a horror movie. I sunk lower as a chill settled in the pit of my stomach. What am I about to witness? Something not meant for prying eyes. Mr. Shadow slid over to the light pole, giving the horizon a menacing look, as if daring anyone to notice his presence. Satisfied that nothing was brazen enough to pay attention to him, he lifted the metal box at the concrete base. It’s obvious this wasn’t his first time here. In one fluid movement, he slid something out from underneath his shirt, slipped it under the box and set it back down. Satisfied, Mr. Shadow slithered back to the car and disappeared.

My palms dripped with sweat. I think I just witnessed a pulp-fiction-dead-drop. Stuff like this doesn’t happen in real life, only in movies and books. Now the dilemma smacked into my brain like a bug on a windshield. Do I investigate, or turn a blind eye?

My grandfather’s voice echoed in my head, “Nothin’ good ever happens after midnight.” I tell myself to ignore it, but before I know what I’m doing, I’m at the light post, both my hands on the metal cover. I could take a quick peek, snatch it to satisfy my curiosity, or simply walk away. My body tells me all I need to know. The anxiety makes my heart flutter, sweat drips off my forehead, and my knees threaten to buckle. “Nope,” I said as I wiped my face with my hands then dried them off on my pants legs and walked inside to finish my shift. I’m no hero. Don’t want to be.

My biggest mistake that day was telling my roommate, Brian.

“Dude. You should’ve took it. No one would know. It’s probably a fat stack of cash,” he said, eyes growing wide.

I shake my head, “No way man. If you saw that guy you wouldn’t be talking this nonsense.”

“You’re a big pussy,” Brian rolled his eyes.

“What if it’s a bomb, or a body part?”

“That would be so freaking cool!” He gave me a look that stated I’m about to regret ever relaying this tale as his Cheshire Cat grin widened. “You think it’s still there?”

“No. Don’t even.”

“BRB, bruh,” Brian snatched his keys off the counter and headed toward the door.

I protested, but curiosity outranked any other emotions, because I didn’t do much else to dissuade him.

I had dozed off with the TV on when Brian busted through the door. His excited whoop when he entered scared the shit out of me. “Who’s the most awesome dude in the world?” he said, setting the brown paper package on the counter with a flourish.

I stared at it with shock and awe. My stomach plummeted to my feet while a surge of excitement coursed through me. I could not make my mouth form words. I mean I thought it a possibility Brian could actually get the package, but there’s also the possibility dinosaurs could roam the earth again. Both had about the same statistical likelihood of happening.

Brian, like a goldfish, has an attention span of two and a half seconds. I figured as soon as his stomach growled he would pull into a drive through, stuff his face with grease laden junk, then forget this ludicrous mission.

I finally found my voice and asked, “Were you followed?” My eyes swept toward the door as I expected a throng of thugs to come kicking the door in.

“Was I followed?” Brian scoffed. “I’m as smooth as melted butter and slick as soap on a wet slide. Ain’t nobody getting the drop on me.” He went to the fridge, grabbed a beer and took a big swig. His belch rumbled loud enough to shake the picture frames, then said, “Let’s open it. Wanna do the honors?” He looked at me like a kid ready to tear open Christmas gifts.

I was seriously regretting opening my big mouth to Brian, but at the same time, the suspicious looking little package was right here in front of us. Would it hurt to take a tiny peek?

My shaking hands carefully dissected the box as a mixture of danger and excitement surged electric currents through my veins. But the thrill was snuffed like a candle flame in a storm when we saw that awful object. We stared for what felt like eternity. The image is still burned into my retinas. “Oh my god.” My voice came out as a forced whisper, as if any sudden loud noise would cause the intended owners to hear us. “We have to return it.”

Brian looked at me like I had been flipped inside out. “You’re shitting me, right? We have to get rid of it quick. Just toss it in a dumpster far away and forget we ever saw it.”

“Some very bad people will be looking for it. They’ll kill us if they knew we saw it, or especially if we throw it away! We have to take it back before anyone comes looking for it.

“How would they know it was us?”

“I bet this thing has GPS tracking.” My paranoia had grown like magic beans grew into giant beanstalks. “They’re probably on their way now.”

“Why didn’t you stop me dude?” Brian said, catching my paranoia like a virus. “Let’s go now, before they show up.”

I didn’t want to go. Brian took it, and he should be the one to take it back. But I wouldn’t be able to live with my conscience if I sent him back out there alone. “Fine.” My head started throbbing. “I’ll drive.”

Brian chugged the rest of his beer, crushed the can on his forehead in a false move of bravado then said, “Let’s do it.”

We pulled into the parking lot and stared in horror as I parked the car. At the infamous light post were two black SUVs, straight out of a movie scene.

“What are you doing man?” Brian sounded like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. “They’re here. Go Now! Get the hell out of here!”

I lost momentum. My plan turned to shit, and I had no backup. My head reeled with all manner of bad ideas, but stopped cold when several men in suits stepped out, dragging Mr. Shadow with them.

He argued with the bald guy who looked like the leader of the group. The bald leader then lifted the metal box. Mr. Shadow pointed, then threw his hands up in exasperation. I imagined he told them he delivered the package there. The bald guy looked on, expressionless, then punched Mr. Shadow in the stomach. At the same time, two muffled reports sound off. I nearly pissed my pants.

Mr. Shadow crumples, but the other thugs grab him by the arms before he hits the ground and throw him in the back of the SUV like a sack of garbage.

Brian’s tenuous hold on reality shattered like tempered glass. He screamed, grabbed at the package, tried to take the wheel out of my hands, andtarted hitting me while yelling “MOVE!” Attempting to calm him was like wrestling with an octopus, his hands were everywhere.

His frantic actions caught the attention of one of the goons who locked his dead eyes on us. It was enough to freeze us both. The guy slowly moved his hand into his jacket, and began walking toward us. There was no time to think. I grabbed the little brown package, threw it out the window, dropped the car into gear, and peeled off as fast as my mini cooper would go. The back window exploded in glass rain when the goon unloaded his weapon at us. My bladder let go, drenching my lap in urine, but I didn’t care. My only thought was get the hell out before we got shot.

Brian and I have been on the run for a month. We made our way to Canada, found jobs on a fishing vessel where they don’t ask too many questions, and are trying to live a quiet life. I hate this new existence, but we dare not get complacent. I don’t know if those men in the black SUVs are still looking for us, but we aren’t taking chances. That thing we saw...is a secret Brian and I swore on each other’s lives we would never mention again. I wish we never saw it, but it's too late now. We have to assume we will always have targets on our backs. We never know when, or if those guys will track us down. Maybe in a few years we can go back to our past life, but for now constantly looking over our shoulders, expecting a gun in our face at any time, is our fate.

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