His glasses cut sharply around his eyes and curved his nose. They threw back the gleam from dawning light posts, and blinded passersby. "Look, Danny, I'm sorry." He tossed a dime high into the air and caught it behind his back.

I felt the cool rush of passing cars on my cheeks and I leant back on the hood of our old '69 Mustang. "It's too late, Len..."

He swore and threw the dime across the road like it was a silver stone he was trying to skip over a lake's glassy surface. He then stepped backwards and threw his hands up to smooth back his glossy hair. "So, this is how it's going to end."

"Well, fuck, what do you think?" I brought one of my feet up onto the grill of the car, with my elbows propping me up on the hood. The car was a violent red, foreshadowing what only we could trace; our lives a gamble sort of thing, wielding ourselves as dangerous things.

He licked his thumb, an old habit, and drew it against his forehead in a long sweeping stroke. The night was nervous; tension was brought into the air by way of thick storm clouds. I drew in a breath, and so did Lenny. We were old partners, he and I, but this time there was no denying that he was loose, his thought pattern faltering and his body griped with some kind of fear I couldn't comprehend.

I let out a long, low whistle. The night howled in return, and ol' Len shook, his fingers playing idly with his lighter. On, Off. Spark, Silence. Life, Death.

There was only our old 'stang parked by the roadside gas station, the other cars were like a bad dream, blurring by too fast to see but only to catch a glimpse of what other people's nights held. I hoped to God that there's would not be as dilapidating as ours.

And then that goddamned Lincoln '78 banked our way. It was a dark, shading colour; appropriate for our game. Lenny gave me a fast, hard look and I slipped off the hood, instinctively reaching for the handgun that Frank had generously allowed me to relieve him of when he was busy kissing asphalt and bleeding from a shot to the head. It was a nice weight on my hip, resting between my jeans and my skin, beaded with moisture from the damp, sticky night, which threatened to drown us out, along with the encompassing headlights of the Lincoln.

I rounded the back of the Mustang and popped the trunk, just as I heard the slamming of doors on the car in front of us. Len was running his hands around each other, wringing ‘em out like an old cloth. I heard a gruff voice say to him, “You look nervous, Jim.” I could imagine how Len was reacting, his face all fidgety and hands playing inside his pocket with pennies and dimes and quarters.

I was quick to reach out the suitcase, with its shiny handle, and pull the top of the trunk back down with a satisfied click. My heels clicked against the road and I tried to carry myself with flair, as if to take away from Lenny’s lack of.

A smoother voice greeted me, although I knew it to be the same, a change in appearance does not change the chameleon’s clock-turning eyes or curling grip. “Daniel, what a pleasure it is to see you here. How have you been? You look just like your mother, you know.”

“Cut it, Nathan. This is what you came here for, right? So let’s just do the dance and get it done.” My eyes showed him as already dead; a non-applicable threat. I weaved a look at Len. He was considerably calmer, beads of sweat falling down his forehead in slow, rolling motion.

Nathan smiled coyly and motioned to one of the guys behind him. As the man brought him a similar suitcase, he said, “Listen, sweetheart, this exchange is going to be fast and smooth, alright? No tricks. Your father was always with the tricks.” His eyes were like those headlights, circling and trapping, a slow and inevitable game. “And you don’t want to end up like him.”

I was tempted to grab my gun, swing it around and blast his face open, though, I didn’t. I lied, “No tricks,” and gave him my hand. In it, he placed his suitcase and I similarly placed my suitcase in his open hand. The cars hazed past and my hair blew up, caught by the wind, and was flung to the right. I kept my eyes on Nathan’s, as he did on mine.

Smirking, he said to the man on his left, “Check it,” and gave him the suitcase.

Unbeknownst to them, I had placed a gun in the suitcase, triggered with a spring so that, when opened, the trigger would be pulled, shooting a direct bullet into anyone who deemed the right to open it. The shot rang clear and the man fell like a brick.

Two more shots and Lenny had pegged his other man, as well as one of the tires of the Lincoln. I considered this unnecessary, seeing as there was a gas station not 2 miles from us, but I allowed it, letting Len have his fun.

Anger grew in Nathan’s eyes, and I could see he was trying to submerge it beneath himself. I laughed and twirled my own gun from the back of my jeans. Lenny smiled cautiously, and turned his gun to Nathan’s head. Nathan raised his hands above his head and said, “You lied. Sour trick, Daniel, I must say, and smart too, but wouldn’t you know that I have other men posted around here? You mustn’t have thought I was that dense, hey?”

“You don’t have other men around here.” I kept my voice level, sure of my words.

“How sure of that are you, Daniel?”

I rolled my eyes around to their corners and tried to see out of the blur. I was sure that he had no other men as watchdogs…I had checked earlier, hadn’t I? My eyes matched with Len’s and he shook his head, stepping across from me, and turning his gun to face mine.

“Look, Danny, I’m sorry,” he said, softly.

I choked on his words, “It’s too late, Len…”

“So, this is how it’s going to end.” Nathan was smirking, having lowered his hands and was watching us with curious eyes.

I swallowed hard, “Well, fuck, what do you think?”

I felt the wind pick up, as if the cars were competing with each other, and I had an idea that buzzed through my mind. My shot rang clear and I felt my body slam back against the hood of the Mustang. I heard the sharp screeching of the wrecked tire and I saw Nathan’s shocked face, as well as Len’s blank one. A wave of pressure pushed me back again and the body of the rusted Accord Sedan flew over. I felt as if I was under the belly of a great whale for a moment. A great look of anguish flushed over Nathan’s face as the front of the Sedan battered into him. And then Nathan and the car were gone. I remember running. The two of us were running, despite our furied battle minutes ago. I felt myself being pushed down, against the side of the Mustang and all of a sudden I realized that Len was beside me.

He spoke in great gasps, “Look….Danny...I’m sorry.”

I buried my head into my hands and said, “It’s too late, Len.”

He threw his gun so it skated across the road and said, “So, this is how it’s going to end.”

I nearly laughed as I said, “Well…Fuck!” There was a large explosion from the car and Len and I ducked against the heat and flying car parts.

The night, with all its threatening, never rained, and as Len and I walked down that tranquil blue road, I turned and gave him an accusing stare.

He shrugged and said, “What?”

I shook my head, “Do you think?” I was about to continue with ‘before you do stupid things like that?’ but he stopped me as his lips pushed the thought out of my mind.

It was an odd thing, this game we played. I pushed my gun up against his stomach with an audible click, and he just kept kissing me.