Chemical Burn by Quincy J. Allen

Author:Quincy J. Allen [Allen, Quincy J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Dystopian
Amazon: B00VWF9ZX0
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 2015-04-09T04:00:00+00:00

Xen’s Discovery

Xen sat bolt-upright in the lounge chair and yelled. He had dreamed of the fight at Grady’s, and the image of the gangster hitting him in the ribs woke him up. He shook his head, trying to lose the memory, but it stuck with him. Mag sat near him and stared. “It’s alright, Mag. Just a bad dream.” She licked her paw and cleaned her ear.

“Didn’t Justin say something about a casino?”

Mag stopped cleaning, nodded her head and looked north. She nodded once more and then looked back at Xen, cocking her head to the side.

“Up that way, hunh?”

She nodded. Xen suddenly felt strange having a conversation with her, but he wasn’t going to mention it. He stood up, headed into the house and back to a bedroom. He remembered Justin’s comment about cash under the bed. He got on his knees, pulled back the comforter and looked.

“Holy shit,” he said, face to face with a sleeping bag stuffer, and the only thing under the bed. It had bulges here and there that had to be bound stacks of cash. He pulled the bag out, set it on the bed, released the pull-string and opened it.

His jaw dropped. It was full of hundred dollar stacks. He did a fast calculation … more of a wild-ass-guess … of how much he was looking at. “There’s got to be over three million in here.” Xen looked around the room, suddenly feeling very guilty and having no idea why. What was it Justin had said? Xen thought to himself as he tried to remember … “Don’t take more than fifty out of the bag,” the words echoed in his head. “He couldn’t possibly mean …” Xen muttered. He looked at the money on the top. There were only hundreds.

He up-ended the bag and poured it out, digging through the pile and looking for tens, twenties or even fifties, anything smaller than a hundred. Nothing. All C-notes. Xen gulped and put the money back in the bag. He could do math, and fifty had to mean fifty thousand dollars. It was the only possible answer. “Okay,” Xen said out loud, smiling gleefully. He left five bound stacks on the bed and slid the refilled bag underneath it.

He went to the closet and spotted a fanny-pack. He grabbed that and threw it on the bed. Taking a blank t-shirt, some shorts and sandals that were too big for him, he got dressed, clipped the bag around his waist and headed out of the house, turning north towards the casino.

***

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