Chapter One: Fighting for Loose Change

The sun was just peeking over the horizon. I stood by the roadside watching the money, earned somewhere in the middle of nowhere, carried over the guardrail and into the valley. My heart sank, yet a strange sense of calm washed over me. The bills continued to flutter like wounded pigeons struggling to stay aflight. Off in the distance, sirens serenaded the coming day. I waited their arrival, strangely relieved that it was almost over.

I turned and looked at the cream-colored Mustang, front smashed into the guardrail, a small trail of smoke rising from the hood. I sat against the rail as the whirring lights became visible down the road. The purring engines revved as they sped toward me with urgency. It was like watching a movie. I felt out of body, as if I were a watcher of some Hollywood feature, part of the crowd who would join in the applause as the villain was handcuffed and thrown in the back of the squad car.

They approached at breakneck speed, throwing gravel in the air as they skidded to a stop a few feet from where I stood. I covered my face with my arms as I was hit with debris. Suddenly, from behind open doors, a dozen guns pointed in my direction. I put my hands in the air and knelt on the ground. I was bombarded by multiple men, thrust to the ground, face planted in the dirt, wrists secured behind my body. I think they read me my rights, but I couldn’t be sure, as everything around me was a muffled blur. The movie, with me the antagonist, was still playing in the foreground.

They lifted me to my feet, half dragged me to a waiting car, and tossed me in the back seat. The door slammed. I sat there in a daze, a feeling of relief washing over me.