A Black Cat's Rabbit's Foot by Alexander Hill

Author:Alexander Hill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, crime, suspense, coming of age, mystery, african american, humor, drugs, urban, heist
Publisher: Alexander Hill

Duncan in the Storm

Lightning swarms the sky. A crash of thunder hits. A body lays in a parking lot next to building draped in darkness as rain pours around it. A storm is coming swells above it.

The man, now conscious, Duncan, awakens in a car. Duncan is in the back seat of a car with a cage separating him from the front. He tries to rise but stops due to steel handcuffs on his wrists and a layer of duct tape around his ankles. Duncan anxiously tries to unbind himself but cannot break free. He looks at the darkness out the window and sees a man in a blue uniform puffing on a cigarette, staring inside.

The uniformed man is tall, and the uniform appears too small for him. His dark blue uniform comes equip with a nightstick and gun which rattles against the glass. His complexion is dark. He doesn’t appear old, but he’s not young, and the most noticeable feature is a tattoo wrapped around his forearm in form of blades. He stands in the rain, soaked. He isn’t quite looking into the car at Duncan, but around him. All these signs suggest to Duncan that this is his captor.

Duncan adjusts his legs back, accidentally hitting something fragile behind him. The kick alerts the man.

“What the hell!” says the man, tossing his cigarette into the rain.

The man enters the front of the vehicle and allows Duncan to make out they are outside an old Victorian building. His head loops around to check on his contents. He frowns and takes a seat behind the wheel, back turned.

“It’s about time you're up, Duncan. You can call me Officer Robbins.”

“Who the fu…? What am I doing here?” asks Duncan.

Robbins starts the engine. The car swerves onto the road, taking chunks of grass and gravel with it. The quick turn sends Duncan right, then left. He squeezes at the pleather seats for dear life.

“Why am I taped up like this? Where are you taking me? Are you a cop? Am I being arrested?” asks Duncan.

“Sure thing. You’re the thief and I am the cop,” says Officer Robbins with a light-hearted chuckle.

Duncan braces for another sharp turn to the freeway. The fragile object comes into view. It’s a painting.

The painting has smudges across it. The angry sky and beeping lights from the dash provide only a few details from it. Duncan can feel the seat is wet with a sticky red substance; he assumes paint.

“A painting. A damaged, melting painting,” says Duncan.

Officer Robbins shoots the car into the side of the road and then flips around to check the condition of the vehicle’s contents. Robbins rattles the cage with his nightstick. “Looks fine to me,” says Robbins, starting the engine up again.

Signs breeze by. Duncan becomes covered in more and more paint as the ride continues. A speed bump pushes Duncan and the painting forward.

“This is what this is about?” asks Duncan.

“That is your version of the story, Duncan. Whatever choice you made was what made this night happen.

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