CourierSixFrier & Watson Brothers
Frier’s grizzled beard rested upon his aged chest, nuzzled against the mild green grass, legs stretched behind him, parted with his feet flat against a fence. A sharp twang came over his shoulder as a trapped nerve began to pain him, though he ignored it, brushing it aside with the adjustment of his arm. In quick succession his elbow warmed then fell into an icy cold as water dragged its way up his jacket, penetrating his many layers, licking at the wrinkled skin below. Cursing under his sparse breath, Frier heaved his body awkwardly up as if to do a push up, instead shifting himself a foot to the right.
Settling into his new stance eventually, the moist air around him smelled of freshly peeled bark, the sun looked down on his resting place from high in the sky. However, Frier didn’t have time to take in the surroundings, beautiful as they were to him. He heard the engine of the car from where he lay, racing along the road, heading for their shiny new prize.
Pressing his ear to his shoulder steadily, Frier brought the dirtied scope up to his amber eye, the other closing obediently and immediately. If the military had taught him anything it was how to stay on the right side of patient. If his father had taught him anything it was to think before you act, so that’s what he did.
Inhale.
Exhale.
If his mother had taught him anything it was how to cook a twice over lasagne, succulent pork and fatty minced beef, thick tomato sauce with blooming mushrooms. Layer upon layer, twice as many as normal, twice as filling and twice the helping of cheese.
Frier’s stomach rumbled.
Inhale.
Mike’s chins rumbled below his jaw as his ass was thrown side to side, the windows of the car rattling against their loose restraints, a cool breeze washing over his sweaty brow. Beside him sat his shorter and younger brother, carefully pushing a shining CD into the player.
“Not yet! Not yet! Fucking give me a chance Kee,” Shouted Mike angrily to his brother over the bellow of the car's roar, swatting at his eager hand. Keanan nearly bit at him as his sweaty palms touched the CD, his precious shining circle being snapped back to his chest in defense. Mike never knew why he coveted them so strongly, he had hundreds of them back home and plenty copies of each.
“Get your hands off it!” He retorted instinctively, rubbing it against his checkered shirt unconsciously and slowly, cleaning its surface rhythmically. The trees whipped by as Mike drove, the occasionally aggressive root sending Mike's chin into a particularly large wobble, his thick arms grappling with the wheel to keep balance. The turning neared and Mike threw the cracked wheel to the side, skidding into position.
“Right. Go on then,” Mike muttered halfheartedly.
Keanan rubbed and rubbed until the CD was spotless once more, cursing quietly enough so that the car muffled the words, scowling across at the fat lump with its foot hard on the gas. Vehicles passed almost like he remembered they used to, a flash of colour over and over, only most of them were brown or green, all of them abandoned.
A beam shined across his face as his brother motioned to the CD player, a plump finger swaying in the rock of the car. A giggle began to rise in his chest and his teeth were bared in a grin, his eyes stuttering as the branches overhead made the sun skip and jump. The road ahead led to where they had saw the tank, but they had been along it more than once since the beginning. They never really strayed too far from the old house, never too far from ‘HQ’ - as he, to his brothers annoyance, liked calling it.
The soft purr of the CD player buzzed through the panels and into his hand that rested on the play button. As the brim of the dazzling disk was enveloped, his nail-bitten finger extended and the click of the needle was just audible as it dipped down to meet the inscribed melody.
As the notes began to resonate around the compact space, the brothers rolled down the windows in unison, and cackled to themselves joyfully, Keanan leaning back to peer into the rear seats. A small pack of explosives sat there in his place, strapped down with tape and a seat belt for good measures. A greasy slick mark ran from its base into the front of the car, a string following its path, intertwined with the various wrappers and old cans.
“You do the honours, brother,” Said Mike, but it was too late for instructions or kindness, Keanan had already taken out his lighter and lit the string that had been by his leg the whole ride. The flames skipped backwards and Keanan gripped the volume knob, twisting violently up to max. He screamed and laughed at the same time, a horrendous sound coming from his lips.
“Right. Off we pop!”
Both brothers waited a beat, until the car broke the trees and began to roll swiftly towards the bulking tank, heading for the strong exterior and the fleshly targets around it. Mike struck the road with a bounce then roll, Keanan striking the grass less elegantly and equally less painfully.
Each of them gripped their weapons, taking cover behind the cars and trees, foliage and thick grass. Keanan looked across to his brother then up to the hill above, a glimmer of light beside a fallen fence above made his smile widen. Mike however grimaced as his shirt ran up his back and his trousers got caught under his heels, a gun in his hand was distraction enough for him to ignore it.
Frier’s aim adjusted as the car came into view, the music screaming through the silent midday air, and now he smiled too. A grim smile, his dry tongue hiding behind his dying teeth, an eye opening suddenly to appreciate the view. He hummed along now, and as he saw the flames in the rear seat roaring, his eyes widened in anticipation - the whole city would hear this.
“Ka-BOOM!” He mouthed.
Frier’s grizzled beard rested upon his aged chest, nuzzled against the mild green grass, legs stretched behind him, parted with his feet flat against a fence. A sharp twang came over his shoulder as a trapped nerve began to pain him, though he ignored it, brushing it aside with the adjustment of his arm. In quick succession his elbow warmed then fell into an icy cold as water dragged its way up his jacket, penetrating his many layers, licking at the wrinkled skin below. Cursing under his sparse breath, Frier heaved his body awkwardly up as if to do a push up, instead shifting himself a foot to the right.
Settling into his new stance eventually, the moist air around him smelled of freshly peeled bark, the sun looked down on his resting place from high in the sky. However, Frier didn’t have time to take in the surroundings, beautiful as they were to him. He heard the engine of the car from where he lay, racing along the road, heading for their shiny new prize.
Pressing his ear to his shoulder steadily, Frier brought the dirtied scope up to his amber eye, the other closing obediently and immediately. If the military had taught him anything it was how to stay on the right side of patient. If his father had taught him anything it was to think before you act, so that’s what he did.
Inhale.
Exhale.
If his mother had taught him anything it was how to cook a twice over lasagne, succulent pork and fatty minced beef, thick tomato sauce with blooming mushrooms. Layer upon layer, twice as many as normal, twice as filling and twice the helping of cheese.
Frier’s stomach rumbled.
Inhale.
Mike’s chins rumbled below his jaw as his ass was thrown side to side, the windows of the car rattling against their loose restraints, a cool breeze washing over his sweaty brow. Beside him sat his shorter and younger brother, carefully pushing a shining CD into the player.
“Not yet! Not yet! Fucking give me a chance Kee,” Shouted Mike angrily to his brother over the bellow of the car's roar, swatting at his eager hand. Keanan nearly bit at him as his sweaty palms touched the CD, his precious shining circle being snapped back to his chest in defense. Mike never knew why he coveted them so strongly, he had hundreds of them back home and plenty copies of each.
“Get your hands off it!” He retorted instinctively, rubbing it against his checkered shirt unconsciously and slowly, cleaning its surface rhythmically. The trees whipped by as Mike drove, the occasionally aggressive root sending Mike's chin into a particularly large wobble, his thick arms grappling with the wheel to keep balance. The turning neared and Mike threw the cracked wheel to the side, skidding into position.
“Right. Go on then,” Mike muttered halfheartedly.
Keanan rubbed and rubbed until the CD was spotless once more, cursing quietly enough so that the car muffled the words, scowling across at the fat lump with its foot hard on the gas. Vehicles passed almost like he remembered they used to, a flash of colour over and over, only most of them were brown or green, all of them abandoned.
A beam shined across his face as his brother motioned to the CD player, a plump finger swaying in the rock of the car. A giggle began to rise in his chest and his teeth were bared in a grin, his eyes stuttering as the branches overhead made the sun skip and jump. The road ahead led to where they had saw the tank, but they had been along it more than once since the beginning. They never really strayed too far from the old house, never too far from ‘HQ’ - as he, to his brothers annoyance, liked calling it.
The soft purr of the CD player buzzed through the panels and into his hand that rested on the play button. As the brim of the dazzling disk was enveloped, his nail-bitten finger extended and the click of the needle was just audible as it dipped down to meet the inscribed melody.
As the notes began to resonate around the compact space, the brothers rolled down the windows in unison, and cackled to themselves joyfully, Keanan leaning back to peer into the rear seats. A small pack of explosives sat there in his place, strapped down with tape and a seat belt for good measures. A greasy slick mark ran from its base into the front of the car, a string following its path, intertwined with the various wrappers and old cans.
“You do the honours, brother,” Said Mike, but it was too late for instructions or kindness, Keanan had already taken out his lighter and lit the string that had been by his leg the whole ride. The flames skipped backwards and Keanan gripped the volume knob, twisting violently up to max. He screamed and laughed at the same time, a horrendous sound coming from his lips.
“Right. Off we pop!”
Both brothers waited a beat, until the car broke the trees and began to roll swiftly towards the bulking tank, heading for the strong exterior and the fleshly targets around it. Mike struck the road with a bounce then roll, Keanan striking the grass less elegantly and equally less painfully.
Each of them gripped their weapons, taking cover behind the cars and trees, foliage and thick grass. Keanan looked across to his brother then up to the hill above, a glimmer of light beside a fallen fence above made his smile widen. Mike however grimaced as his shirt ran up his back and his trousers got caught under his heels, a gun in his hand was distraction enough for him to ignore it.
Frier’s aim adjusted as the car came into view, the music screaming through the silent midday air, and now he smiled too. A grim smile, his dry tongue hiding behind his dying teeth, an eye opening suddenly to appreciate the view. He hummed along now, and as he saw the flames in the rear seat roaring, his eyes widened in anticipation - the whole city would hear this.
“Ka-BOOM!” He mouthed.
