It was still early when Mr. Petrov arrived at the shack. He tried the door, but it was locked. So he sat on the big rock, waiting for... he shuddered. Calling those men would cost him dearly, he knew. But, better pay that price, than let that bastard have his way. He had tried to play by his rules, and all he got was a “I can't help you” from the police Captain, and his son hurt. He felt sick at the very thought of what he'd seen yesterday.
He started getting impatient as time passed. They were supposed to be there by 11.30 am, and it was almost noon already. He had had the impression they were not ones to be late. And after that very morning... Finally, about five minutes to noon, he heard a car approaching. He stood up and tried to straighten himself, to shake off some of the dust from the unpaved road. He froze when he saw a police car. … Surely... no. No, there were rumors about the mob and the police working together, but...
His heart sank when the young officer got off the car. Oh, well. At least he seemed to be on his side.
Wait. “Hey. So. How did you know?” Mr. Petrov greeted him.
Kenya looked down. Shit. Mr. Petrov knew, he was sure of it. But his aching chest reminded him he had no choice. He tried hard to steady his voice, but without much success. “Well... yesterday, while... while you were inside, Andrei asked me... to tell you to be here at this hour. I... I never got around to do it, since the Captain held me for... so long. This morning I figured you'd like to know, and I went to your house, but nobody answered the doorbell. So I... thought I'd come here, just in case.”
Mr. Petrov sighed. Wait. His house? How did he knew...? This all seemed a bit off. But he thought wisest to just keep his eyes open. “Oh. Well, the door's locked, so... guess we'll have to wait for that bastard to show up.”
“I... think it may be on a timer, or something. Yesterday it buzzed open long after he left.”
They both sat on the boulder, eyes locked on the ground, uneasy about what to say. Mr. Petrov kept thinking about the young officer. He was totally off today. Maybe realizing the Captain was not the honest man he believed had taken its toll on him. Then his mind started wandering. That morning, not four hours before. The messages... He didn't thought what he was saying. “Well. That bastard delivered the message anyway. In two foot tall letters, right in my bedroom's wall.”
Kenya went white. “Shit.” He managed to mumble, a little too late. He knew about that, of course. Andrei had made him do it. He didn't dare to glance at Mr. Petrov, fearing he could read his expression. He was awfully conscious of his non-existent lying abilities. Then the door buzzed, thank god. He rushed to open it. Get inside. Anything that could distract Mr. Petrov's attention from him.
Mr. Petrov followed him inside, a bit shocked by his reaction. Damn the kid was jumpy today. He thought something was definitely off. He froze in place when the TV came alive, showcasing a static photo. Four thugs laid dead on a huge pool of blood, their throats so deeply cut that their heads were almost severed. He got closer to the screen, and immediately recognized them. The men he had talked to yesterday, the same ones he was supposed to meet today. He froze again when he remembered the second message on his wall. "I know". Damn.
But if he thought that would be the worst of his day, he was deeply mistaken. He realized that as the screen went off for a second, then on again. He immediately recognized the place: his own house. There was another message on the wall, this one in even larger letters. “They're dead.”
He froze at the words. No. No no no, this didn't make any sense, that bastard couldn't possibly know where she was, could he?
He got his answers when his wife flew into view, crashing painfully against the wall, her screams and sobs blaring through the TV speakers. No, she was not dead. Yet, Mr. Petrov thought. He rushed to the door, unable to see anything else, unable to realize, the hour long drive to the god-forsaken shack meant he'd be too late. But the shack's door had been locked again.
