JUNE 22

Crystal ripped off his jacket and wadded it into a makeshift ball, pressing it against Derry's throat in a desperate bid to stem the bleeding. But it was a futile effort - the bullet had torn a gaping hole in Derry's neck, and the blood flowed relentlessly, soaking through the fabric.

"I'm so sorry," Crystal whispered, his voice cracking beneath the weight of his grief. Tears streamed down his face as he held his dying friend in his arms. The irony was crushing: he had shot the one person he had been trying to protect.

Crystal's own pain was forgotten in the face of Derry's mortal wound. The stab wound in his stomach still seeped blood, but he felt nothing - his senses numbed by the horror of what he had done. All that mattered was the friend he was losing, the friend he had killed.

Crystal gazed into Derry's eyes, watching in horror as the last flicker of life extinguished. The sparkle that once shone bright with laughter and friendship faded to black, leaving behind a dull, empty stare.

"He's dead," a detached voice whispered in Crystal's mind. "I killed him." The words echoed through his subconscious, a haunting refrain that threatened to consume him.

Crystal felt as if he was observing the scene from outside his body, disconnected from the chaos that had unfolded. His mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of his actions. Time seemed to warp and distort, leaving him lost in a nightmare from which he couldn't awaken.

Crystal slumped to the floor, Derry's lifeless body still cradled in his arms. The reality of his situation crashed down on him like a tidal wave. He was covered in blood, and the room was a crime scene. Escape was impossible.

His gaze drifted to the safe, its door still open, and the bag of cash lying nearby. The office was in shambles, a testament to the brutal struggle that had unfolded. Crystal's subconscious taunted him, "There's no way back now." The words echoed in his mind, threatening to drag him under a wave of despair.

But Crystal refused to give in. He knew he had to keep his wits about him, no matter how bleak the situation seemed. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He wouldn't let everything fall apart, not yet. With a sense of determination, he began to think, to plan, and to find a way out of the mess he had created.

"I'm sorry," Crystal whispered, his voice trembling as he hugged Derry's lifeless body tightly. He held onto his friend for a moment, as if unwilling to let go.

But he knew he had to keep moving. Crystal stood up, his vision blurring slightly from the blood loss. He began stuffing the cash into the bag with a sense of urgency, his movements hurried and clumsy.

His head spun, and his knees felt weak, but he refused to give in. The sound of the car compactors in the background was a reminder that he had to get out, and fast. The noise had masked the sounds of their struggle, but it wouldn't last forever.

Crystal knew he had to escape, and fast. He slung the bag of cash over his shoulder, the weight of it a reminder of what he had done. He took one last look around the office, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of evidence.

His gaze fell upon Derry's lifeless body, and a pang of guilt shot through him. He knew he had to think clearly, to come up with a plan to cover his tracks. He couldn't leave any evidence behind, anything that could link him to the crime.

With a sense of detachment, Crystal began to think of ways to erase his presence from the office.

Crystal made his way to the storeroom at the back of the office, his mind fixed on his plan. He pushed open the door and was greeted by the pungent smell of gasoline. His eyes landed on the five kegs stacked in the corner, and he knew he had found what he needed.

With a sense of detachment, Crystal carried the kegs back to the office, his movements methodical and deliberate. He began to pour the gasoline everywhere, starting at Derry's lifeless body and working his way to the office entrance. The pungent liquid spread quickly, forming a trail of fire waiting to be ignited.

Crystal stood over Derry's body one last time, his eyes locked on his friend's face. He felt a pang of guilt and sorrow, but he knew he couldn't afford to linger. He turned and walked away, the bag of cash strapped to his back.

As he stepped out of the office, Crystal lit a cigarette, the flame casting a brief, golden glow on his face. He took a long drag, feeling the nicotine coursing through his veins. The sound of the car compactors provided a grim background hum, a reminder of the chaos he had unleashed.

"This is for you, Derry," Crystal whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please forgive me." Tears streamed down his face as he gazed back at the office.

With a flick of his wrist, Crystal tossed the lit cigarette into the office, watching as it landed amidst the gasoline-soaked chaos. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, a small spark ignited, followed by a growing roar as the flames engulfed the office.

Crystal turned and walked away, the sound of the inferno growing louder behind him. The bag of cash bounced against his back as he disappeared into the distance, leaving behind a trail of destruction and death. 

Daniel had always harbored doubts about the robbery plan, but his reservations were tempered by his knowledge of Derry's notorious stinginess. Despite his wealth, Derry was infamous for being tight-fisted, doling out meager handouts to those in need.

But Daniel's trust in Crystal outweighed his misgivings. He knew Crystal's impulsive nature, but he also knew his friend had a heart of gold. Both of them had been dealt a rough hand by life, victims of a system that seemed designed to hold them down. 

Daniel arrived at the work site, and just as he had expected, it was deserted.

 "It's a ghost town," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing off the empty buildings.

He stood at the entrance, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of life or potential witnesses. Satisfied that he was alone, Daniel made his way towards the boss's office, his footsteps quiet on the dusty ground.

Mendes, a Mexican man in his 40s, was the key player in the company. While he had a reputation for being greedy, he was also a good man who treated his workers fairly. As the construction supervisor, Mendes had taken the team to a contract job outside the company site, leaving the office empty.

Daniel and Crystal, both construction workers, had planned their move carefully, taking advantage of the Saturday exodus to execute their plan. 

Daniel rushed to Mendes' office, his eyes scanning the area before peering through the window. Confirming the office was empty, he pulled out the duplicated key he'd made a week ago. With a deep breath, he inserted the key and twisted it. The lock clicked open, and a triumphant smile spread across his face.

"Yes!" Daniel whispered, his eyes shining with excitement.

 "He'll definitely make it in," he thought, feeling a sense of pride. 

He'd given Crystal a spare to get into the office.

Daniel would have loved to steal the cash himself, but someone needed to keep Mendes occupied and distracted. That someone was him.

"He should be here anytime soon," Daniel muttered to himself, when suddenly, a voice called out from the other side of the door.

"Who's in there?" the voice demanded.

Daniel's eyes widened in alarm as he responded, "Mendes?" His voice trembled with incredulity. What was Mendes doing here? He was supposed to be at the contract job, supervising the team.

"Who's there?" the voice asked again, this time with a hint of impatience.

Daniel's anxiety spiked as he frantically scanned the office for an escape route. But there was none. The office had only one door, and Mendes was standing right outside it. Daniel felt trapped, his heart racing with with panic. 

Sweat beads formed on Daniel's forehead as he realized he'd been caught before the operation had even begun.

 "Daniel," the voice called out again, this time with a hint of amusement.

"Fuck!" Daniel muttered to himself. "He knows it's me."

"I know it's you in there, Daniel," Mendes' voice confirmed, his tone firm but curious.

Daniel's heart sank. He was screwed. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before stepping out to face Mendes. With a sense of trepidation, he opened the door and walked out, unsure of what would happen next.

Daniel was greeted by a cheeky grin spreading across Mendes' face. His boss, a stout Mexican man with a beer barrel build, stood with his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His thick legs and bulbous stomach strained against his worn jeans and faded shirt, giving him a lovably rumpled appearance. Mendes' love for beer was legendary, rivaling only his devotion to his family.

"I didn't see you this morning," Mendes said, his voice tinged with amusement, his hands still buried in his pockets. Daniel's eyes dropped to the ground as he slowed his pace, stalling for time. His mind racing, he struggled to come up with a plausible explanation for his presence in the office.

"Good morning, Boss," Daniel said, his tone neutral, as he approached Mendes.

"I said I didn't see you this morning," Mendes repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Neither did I see Christain. And what the hell were you doing in my office? And how did you get in?" Mendes' questions came rapid-fire, his voice firm but curious.

"It was open when I came in. I thought you were inside," Daniel replied smoothly, his confidence growing as he spoke. He had anticipated Mendes' questions and had his answers ready.

Mendes raised an eyebrow. "Why would I be in? It's 11:30, and our work starts at 8:00 am."

Daniel shrugged. "I just assumed"

" Where's Christain?" Mendes asked, his eyes glinting with suspicion.

"He's on his way. He went to get something for us to eat later at the site," Daniel replied, his tone casual.

"Then you should be at the site," Mendes said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The air conditioner's breakdown the day before had left the room stifling, and the heat was becoming unbearable.

"Yes, boss," Daniel replied, already turning to leave.

Mendes paused, collecting his thoughts in the sweltering room. "Daniel!" he called out, his voice firm but controlled.

Daniel stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Yes, boss?"

"The key," Mendes said, his eyes glinting with a knowing spark.

"What key?" Daniel replied, feigning indifference.

Mendes chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "My office key. The one you duplicated. Give it here." He held out his palm, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

Daniel hesitated, then reluctantly handed over the key. Mendes' smile grew wider as he pocketed the key.

"I want to see you at the site when I get there," Mendes said, his tone firm. "And we have some talking to do later. You, Christain and I."

Daniel felt a shiver run down his spine as he realized Mendes had caught on to their plans. And to make matters worse, Crystal was due to arrive any minute, completely unaware of the sudden turn of events.