[ WP ] `` You have 24 hours . No more , no less . ''

& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I ca n't do that. There's no way, man! That—That's fucking crazy, man! No way. Not gon na do it!'' Hickory flicked the syringe in his hand with the needle pointed up, and thumbed the plunger enough to let out any excess air. He pumped his fist and tightened an elastic band around his bicep. `` I just—I just ca n't do it. It's not our fault, man! You know? You know what I'm sayin'?'' Hickory patted the crook of his elbow, feeling for the thickest vein. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Michael itched the nape of his neck and picked at a few scabs on his cheeks. His fingernails were yellow, brittle and overgrown. `` I'm jonesin', bro. I need this shit. We need to do what they said, bro. It's us or her. What's it gon na be?'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hickory looked up. His eyes were a tragedy. A past life left behind with nothing but shame to show for his worth. He began rocking back and forth on the busted-in couch of the ransacked apartment. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' It's not our fault, man!'' Hickory yelped. `` They've got ta understand! It's not our fault! She was n't supposed to be here, man!'' His eyes bounced back and forth between the broken, toppled over dining room set, and the wall where a chair slammed a gaping hole into the drywall. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Fuck it, bro. I mean, fuck!'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hickory placed the syringe next to a decorative lamp on the corner table beside him. `` Call Daniel,'' he said. `` Daniel knows what to do. He always does.'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' What? What the fuck are you going on about. Are you high? Daniel will fucking kill us if he finds out about this shit, bro!'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Call Daniel, man!'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Michael tugged on the collar of his basketball jersey. He paced back and forth, fingers yanking on his hair with a gun in hand. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hickory scratched at the stubble on his neck, working his way down to his arms. `` Do it, man! We've got no choice!'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Alright! Fuck it.'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Michael tossed the gun on the counter and reached for the apartment's landline. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' No, man! Your cell phone! The cops'll know if you use her phone!'' Hickory sunk into the couch and rubbed his hands back and forth against the corduroy cushions. `` Hurry, man!'' He curled his fingers, fingernails snagging against each individual line with sequential pops. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Michael reached into the deep front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a phone. He dialed in a number, hit send, and pressed it to his ear. `` It's ringing,'' he said. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Good.'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Yo. This Daniel?'' Michael kicked the wooden leg off of a broken chair and watched it fly across the room. Hickory winced as it smashed against the stainless steel fridge with a sharp crack. `` Yo, um. This is Michael. Sup bro. Yeah, um. Okay. Uh-huh. Yeah, I'm listening bro. No'' —Michael tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. His head now resting on his shoulders, he groaned—'' No, bro. No. No I'm not talking over you. Jesus fuck, Daniel. Just fucking listen for a goddamn second will you?'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hickory started tapping his foot. He watched Michael in a haze of indecisiveness, glancing back and forth from the syringe on the corner table, to his friend pacing back and forth across the room. A thick metallic smell lingered in the air, churning his stomach. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Yeah. Got it. No—No. I got it. Yes. Yes I'm a fucking retard. Yes. I know. Yes I'm a stupid fucking junkie retard who's mother should've aborted with a rusty coat hanger. Yes, for the love of fucking god I fucking heard you, Daniel! Bye!'' Michael ended the phone call, his hands gripped tightly around his phone and his body shaking in anger. `` Fuck!'' he screamed, and threw his phone against the wall. The phone shattered into fragments of plastic, and he looked Hickory in the eyes. `` The bitch's got ta go, bro.'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hickory reached for the syringe. `` She was n't supposed to be here, man! We were just supposed to rob the place!'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I know. I know, bro. It does n't help that I hit the bitch harder than I should've with the gun. Fucking blood everywhere.'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Michael rushed to the kitchen. He rummaged through drawers, opening and slamming them shut. `` She's got ta go, bro. It's what Daniel said. You hear me? Done! We got twentyfour hours. No more, no less.'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hickory observed his friend and the shine reflecting off a cleaver in his hands. He watched Michael pop the cork to a bottle of wine, chugging it until empty. 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Michael wiped his mouth with his hand, `` We got ta get rid of her. Twenty pieces minimum Daniel said. Each in their own bag. And we got ta bring her across state borders. Daniel said his men will take it from there.'' 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hickory inserted the needle into his vein and shook his head at his friend. He pushed the plunger to the base and unwrapped the elastic band from his arm. `` I ca n't watch.'' 
 
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