Bad Luck

The wind howls through the dark alley. Hank tries to pull his worn blanket over his body. Too late as the icy wind reaches his bones. The wet bricks stick to his back.

“Thisss… muusst bee. My last wiiiiinter here.” His teeth clatter as he mumbles to himself, “if I survive.” He looks down the alley, still so many people out on a Thursday night. He knows he should go out and beg for food. It’s been days since he last ate. His stomach rumbles, right on cue.

He forces himself to stand, using the wall to keep his balance. He pushes off, wobbling towards the lights of the street. Halfway down the alley, two black shadows rush into the alley. The larger one pushes the other up against the wall. Hank drops to the ground and rolls over to the wall. He can’t make out who’s in front of him. The shadows begun shoving each other back and forth. Their words nothing more than a mumble to Hank. The larger shadow reaches into his jacket. Hank knows what it is immediately, the glisten in the light, a cold hard blade. Hank pushes himself up, rushing to help the smaller shadow, His body screams in protest, His muscles haven’t been used like this in years.

“HHEEEE… EEYYY!” Hank yells as he charges forward. The larger shadow plunges the knife into the smaller one’s chest. Hank lowers his shoulder, slamming into the larger man. Pushing him down to the ground. Hank stumbles backwards from the impact, his arms flail, trying to hold himself up.

Bang! Hanks jumps from the sound. Pushing himself flat against the wall. The larger man’s body goes limp. Hank covers his eyes.

“Too much death.” He whispers to himself, shaking his head.

The sound of metal clattering makes Hank jump again, a gun lies on the ground next to the smaller man, smoke floating out of the barrel.

“H… hey,” the smaller man weakly calls out. “Cc… come… Here.” He pushes his hand on his wound, blood oozes between his fingers. Hank hurries to gather his blanket and places it on the man. He kneels down. The man pulls out a small black book. He thrusts it into Hank’s hands.

“I…” He coughs, causing blood to splatter out of his mouth. “This book,” his body shivers. “It has enough money to live well for the rest of your life.” He places his hand on Hanks shoulder. “There’s a letter tucked in the back, please.” He coughs again. “Find the person in the letter and take care of…”

His head goes limp and falls forward. With the sound of sirens closing in, Hank turns and pushes himself deeper in the alley, bouncing off the walls, trying to find his balance.

A few streets over, he pauses and leans against the cold bricks. His lungs burning. Looking at the black book in his hands. He opens the cover and sees four debt cards taped to the inside of the cover and the first page, four-digit codes written under each card.

He flips the page to find to the note.

‘I’m not sure who I’ll be giving this book too. Within the four accounts is close to twenty billion dollars. On the following pages are people who want me dead. I was a scientist, and I got ahold of the wrong information, which I have hidden. I just wanted to help those who need it. Probably the reason I gave you this book. Please take care and enjoy your life.’

Hank thumbs through the rest of the pages. Names, company’s, numbers, even emails and addresses. The notebook is full from front to back.

“Wow,” Hank shakes his head. “This guy was busy. Doesn’t matter, looks like I just found a bit of luck!” Hank squeezes the book tightly.

He hobbles out of the alley and right to an atm. He pulls the first card out, reads the pin.

0-9-2-2. “Wow, this one’s the same as my birthday.” He goes to put the card into the machine. His hand trembles, not just from the cold. Hank tries a few times before the card slides into the slot. He enters the wrong pin number the first time, His heart dances a little when it goes through on his second try. He quickly withdraws $500. Looking up and down the street, the icy wind rushes through his body.

He spots a secondhand clothing store across the street. He pushes the cold metal door open. A stale, musky smell greets him. The warm air wraps around his body. His shaking arms calm down, He can feel the goosebumps crawl across his body.

“Sir, are you okay?” A young woman with a tattoo on her neck, a face full of piercings and bright pink hair in pigtails, walks out from behind the counter.

“I…” His entire body shakes from the shock of the warmth. “I need some warmer clothing.” He gestures to the rags he’s wearing.

“Over there, do you need any help? Your hands look like they hurt.”

Hanks shakes his head, “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll be here if you need me!” She smiles at him. He half grins at her as he rushes past her.

He walks down the aisle. Pulling the thickest long sleeve shirt, he can find, followed by a pair of jeans and a winter jacket.

He peels the wet shirt off his chest, not caring that he’s in the middle of the store. It’s just him and her and she’s up front.

“Those are some nasty scars.” Hank jumps back, almost tripping on the pile of clothing.

“Damn kid! don’t sneak up on me like that!” He barks at her, then hurries and pulls his long sleeve shirt on.

“Sorry.” She looks down at her feet. “I’m just bored, you’re the first person to come in since I’ve started my shift today.”

“Lucky me,” he sarcastically replies. “Where’s the changing room?” Hank holds the pair of pants up. She points across the room. Hank rips the tags off the clothing and hands them and a hundred dollars to her.

“Keep the change, and I was never here.”

“Weird, I swear I heard someone talking over here.” She flashes him a concerned smile and walks away. Hank hurries and changes his pants and slips on his new coat. When he returns up front, she’s been replaced with an older man with glaring stink eyes.

“I…”

“Karmen said you paid, now get lost.” The older man squawks.

Hank pulls his hood up and walks back into the cold. He braces himself for the wind, but his jacket keeps it at bay.

The bright yellow sign for a local dinner flashes half a block down the road.

He hobbles his way down the block, his body still aching. He hasn’t moved this much in a while. A small smile on his face, he’s done fighting now. He squeezes the little black notebook. The bells jingle as he pushes the old door in, and warmth surrounds him.

The sound of the diner fills Hank’s ears, the gurgle of fresh coffee being brewed, sizzling burgers on the griddle, orders being called out from the kitchen, the buzz of overlapping voices. Then the smells hit him and his stomach roars loudly and his mouth waters.

Few people are sitting inside here, a couple of cops at one table, some people about his age, who just got out of work for the day eating their dinner. The only ones who look at him are the cops and the server.

“Sorry honey, nothing today.” She shakes her head. Hank used to come here and beg for food when he went too long without food. He holds the cash up for her to see. “Please take a seat. I’ll be right over.” She pops the gum in her mouth.

Hank hurries to a booth, pulling one menu out as he slides all the way in. He tucks the little black notebook into his inner chest pocket of his coat.

He just glances at the menu, already knowing what he wants, he just wants to see which ones to be exact. Footsteps start making their way towards him. He looks up to see the server coming his way. Her light green uniform has a few old stains on it, dull red hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, most of it seems to fade into white. Her round face has a few freckles on it. Joyce, that’s what her name tag reads. Her makeup is thick, and the eyeliner is shaky. As she stops in front of his table, she rests her hands on her hips.

“Figure out what you’ll have, honey?” She loudly pops her gum again.

“Two burger baskets, one with fries and the other with onion rings. A cup of coffee as well.”

“Sounds good, expecting someone else?” She pulls her pad of paper out and writes his order out. Her eyes never leaving him.

“Naw, just worked up a good appetite.” He chuckles, faking the best smile he can.

She smiles at him and walks away. A few minutes pass, and she comes back with a mug and a pot of coffee. The moment she’s done pouring it, he scoops it up, placing it to his lips, burning his mouth as he takes a sip. The warmth rushes through his body. Goose bumps cover his entire body.

“Ah, it’s been too long old friend.” He takes another sip.

He pulls the notebook out. Turning all the way to the back. On the last page, another note is written.

‘My name is Sam Reeves,' Hank stares at the name, he hurries to read the rest. 'My parents were killed in a battle overseas when I was a child. The only reason I’m alive is because a Republic solider saved my life. He cared for me for two months. At times he even carried me if he had to. At one point, he even took a couple bullets to the chest in order to save my life.’ Hank places his hand on his chest. ‘I owe this man everything, I know this is selfish for me to ask. Will you please find Hank Blofire. Sargent of the 9th core droppers. Please, let him know I’m sorry. That I couldn’t take care of him the way he took care of me.’

Hank’s body froze in place. His eyes going over each word again and again. The pain in his chest burning as he places his hand on the two purple marks on his chest.

When he had gotten Sam back to a base, they took him, and Hank could never find him again. Hank had prayed many times that Sam had found a wonderful home and lived a great life.

Tears burst from his eyes. His heart twisted in agony. Now knowing the little boy, he had saved all those years ago, just died in front of him. Anger fills him now as he slams his fist on the table. Every in the dinner looks at him. The hatred that he rolled over and let them fight instead of protecting like they taught him. Hank lays his head on the table. Letting the tears freely flow. He’s not sure why they wanted Sam dead, but now, he’s going to find out and he’s going to find them and make them pay. Hank sits up, downs his whole coffee as the same young woman with pink hair slides in across from him.

“You’re Hank? Names Karmen, I’m a friend of Sam’s.”