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“Why don’t you take off these ropes and fight me like a real man?” I taunted.
“Why give you an advantage?”
“It’s only an advantage if you think you can’t hold your own,” I grinned.
The man glanced at Dark and Dangerous, then strode forward, undoing the ropes around my wrists. I feigned relief for all of two seconds before popping him one in the jaw. He stumbled back, landing in his seat with a thump. The man to my right hit me hard, sending me flying into the side of the plane.
I picked up the food tray and slammed it against the side of his head, taking the opportunity to rush him as he tripped over his own feet and fell into the seats, losing his hat in the process. I grabbed his gun and held it on him, knowing I needed to get out of here if I had any chance of living to see tomorrow.
“I wish we could have ended things differently, Tommy, but those are the breaks,” I said, holding the gun on him. I shot him once in the knee, then made a break for the back of the plane. I didn’t have long to make my escape, and even less time to figure out a way to survive this.
The parachutes that were normally stored on a plane were nowhere in sight. I looked out the window, trying to judge how high we were, but all I saw was blue down below. There was a bag hanging on the wall labeled Inflatable Raft. I snatched it and headed for the door, knowing it was my only way out.
“Get him!” Dark and Dangerous shouted.
I grabbed the handle next to the door and held on for dear life as I opened it. The gust of wind nearly sucked me out of the plane, but I shoved my foot against the doorframe and held on with everything I had. Just as Mr. Tommy Gun came at me, I grinned and let go of the handle. I was sucked out of the plane, getting caught in the turbulence for just a second before falling toward the ocean.
I flipped to my back, letting the wind catch me and slow my descent. With a two-fingered salute at the man staring out of the plane at me, I rolled and straightened my body, increasing my speed as I fell from the sky.
The water came rushing up to meet me. I had to time this just right. If I pulled that string even a second too late, I would smash into the ocean at a fatal rate of speed. I wrapped my fingers around the pull cord, said a quick prayer, then yanked with all my might.
But nothing happened. I tried again, but still, the raft refused to inflate. With mere seconds left, I made one last ditch effort and?—
7
LOCK
“Hold on,”I snapped, irritated with this story already. “Let me get this straight. You somehow got kidnapped and transported into some bad forties movie?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked like he didn’t know.
I rolled my eyes, slapping a bandaid on his wound. He winced, glaring at me for being so rough. I didn’t care. I was beyond the point of believing anything FNG said. I could be working a real job where people were actually in danger. Instead, I was treating a man who just couldn’t stop telling tall tales.
“Tommy guns and fedoras?”
“I never said fedoras,” he said quickly.
“Like I couldn’t tell where you were going with that? It was a poor man’s gangster movie.”
“Hey, I resent that,” he said, sitting upright with a wince. “I’m telling you what really happened.”
I washed off my hands, glancing over my shoulder at FNG. “And what really happened is some version of an Indiana Jones movie?”
“What are you talking about?”
I snatched a paper towel and turned, drying off my hands as I laid it out for him. “I’m talking about the fact that Indiana Jones jumped out of a plane with a raft. Do you really expect me to believe that in today’s modern age, they didn’t have a parachute? Only a raft for you to jump to your death with?”
“It…was an old plane.”
“You said a jet.”
“I…why do you have to ruin my story?”
“Because it was a horrible story,” I snapped. “No one in their right mind would believe you. Half the time, you weren’t even speaking like a real gangster.”
He slid off the table, hobbling over to me as he kept his hand pressed to his side. He had to be in pain, and if he didn’t stop with this shit, I would make it hurt a whole lot more.
“Oh, I’m so sorry I got some of the details wrong. Clearly, I’m no artist.”
