The following short story is what I entered in the NYC Midnight Short 2019 Short Story Challenge. It’s nowhere near it’s final draft, and was a challenge to write. I’m still content with it. Writing a thriller was fun!
Genre: Thriller
Subject: A live broadcast
Character: A drug addict
“Brandon, is this thing on?” a voice asks.
“Don't drop it… the lens is just covered,” a second voice, presumably Brandon, replies. “We're going live in three, two, one…”
After a brief moment, the video appears. In front of the camera stands a young man, no older than twenty-five. His sandy-brown hair ruffles with the breeze. His green eyes provide warmth and enthusiasm. He sports jeans and well-worn brown jacket. Behind him is a standard brick wall, with streaks of paint around waist level. The light hits the left side of his body, casting a long shadow across the sidewalk and wall behind him. He waves his left hand and begins to speak. “Welcome to another live stream of The Reel Life. I'm your host, Jordan. Behind the camera, as always, is Brandon.”
For a brief moment, the video turns around to the person holding the camera. Brandon looks slightly older than Jordan, but not by much. Brandon smiles at the camera and gives a brief, “Hello.” The image then turns back towards Jordan. A Bang! can be heard off-screen.
Jordan smiles and shifts slightly to his right side. “You asked for it, and we delivered. Today, we will explore and interview residents of Central East City in order to better understand how this area has been affected by gang violence and drug abuse. Don’t worry. I’m six months clean.” Jordan turns to walk down the street, sauntering down what now appears to be a sidewalk. The video jolts slightly, before steadying out, presumably from Brandon adjusting something.
Screech! Bang! Weeoo weeoo! The sounds are faint, coming from blocks away. Jordan pauses, rolls his shoulders, then turns to face the camera, walking backward. “This place sure is full of interesting sounds.” He adjusts the back of his pants, fixes his jacket, then turns around to continue walking forward. “Brandon, why don’t you wander up that way and get a good look of the accident while I scout for someone to interview?”
The camera turns towards the direction of a street corner, which grows closer.
Screech! Brandon turns the camera back towards him. “This place is full of them. To our viewers, don’t worry.” He smiles and winks at the camera, his face slightly hidden by shadows from the poor natural lighting. “We’re prepared for the worst.”
Takka takka! In the distance, down a side street, a car lays crippled against the side of a brick building. Multiple police cars surround the crashed vehicle. Multiple figures stand around a figure laying on the ground.
Refocusing the camera in the opposite direction of the main street, Jordan stands a great distance away with his back towards the camera speaking to someone. They exchange nods and a handshake. Jordan shifts his stance slightly, placing his hands in his pockets. He turns around to face Brandon and the camera.
“Hey, Jordan,” Brandon yells. “Did you find someone?” The camera moves back forth, slightly jarring to a viewer.
After a moment, Jordan is now closer, in full view of the video. Next to him stands a woman, her face grim. Her straight, greasy hair lifts slightly, indicating a small breeze. She stands still in her jeans and oversides jacket. Jordan looks to her, then back to the camera. Both their shadows grow with the setting sun.
“Everyone,” Jordan says, “This is Mel. She’s a local around these parts. Mel, say hi.”
“Mel, how long did you say you’ve lived here for?”
Mel looks towards the ground, then to Jordan meeting his gaze, then to the camera. “I’ve lived here for about seven years now.”
“Seven years,” Jordan says. “What would you say about this place have lived here for that long?”
“It’s…” Mel looks around her. “It’s homely.” She looks back towards Jordan, who to the superfan, appears slightly disturbed.
The camera moves around to focus on the buildings that surround them. An apartment complex looms approximately six stories tall on the left. Most of the windows are boarded up. Of the windows that aren’t boarded, a few have dim lights on, while others show no evidence of life. Farther down the street, one house is completely boarded up, while others have broken windows. To the right is a small grassy area surrounded by tall solid brick buildings. Gated stores line the front of the solid brick buildings. A few cars are parked along the street, one right in front of the run-down apartment complex with its trunk slightly ajar.
“Have you ever seen any shady dealings occur here?”
“Not really,” Mel says, her hands now in her pockets. She glares slightly at him. “You looking for something? Because if I was to see shady dealings, I’d run if I was you.”
“Good to know. Thank you, Mel. We’ll keep that in mind.” Jordan shifts his weight to the other foot and takes his hands out of his pockets. He clasps them together.
The camera focuses on the car, then back to Jordan and Mel. “Thank you for your time, Miss Mel.” Jordan walks briskly back towards the camera. “I realize that this has been a short show, but you did want to see us in a not so good part of town. Next time, on The Reel Life, we’ll take you to the aquarium downtown to interview the caretakers and scientists that bring the sea to us.” He moves his hand across his throat as if to say, “Cut the video.” Only a few inches away, he whispers, “We need to run,” before cruising out of view.
Mel stands looking into the camera from the distance, then stalks towards the apartment complex. A hand covers the camera lens, causing the screen to darken.
A pitter-patter of feet and coats ruffling can be heard in the darkness. Someone pants, clearly out of breath. Clink! Creek! Thud! Thud! Krchng. Vroom. An engine springs to life.
The hand is removed from the camera lens. Jordan and Brandon are now in their car. The camera now sits on the dash of the car, pointing towards the two of them.
“There’s a body in the car, and I shortchanged her,” Jordan says, as buildings and trees whiz past in the window.
“You what?” Brandon looks at Jordan, his eyes wide in disbelief. “The only reason we said we would start up this series again is that you had gotten out of rehab and were clean.” He looks back to the front of the car. “We’re twelve episodes into our second season, and you haven’t been clean this entire time?”
Both are silent for a moment. Jordan looks into the rearview mirror, then back to the front. “Shit. She’s behind us.”
Thud! The camera lurches and tumbles onto Jordan’s lap. He quickly places it back on the dash, the video adjusts back to focus on the two. Brandon now has a gun in his hand.
Jordan looks over for a brief moment, then back to the front. “You brought a gun?”
“Yeah. I have a conceal-carry permit.”
“Shit.” Jordan looks from the side mirror to the rearview mirror, then back to the front.
“Pull the damn car over!” Brandon now points the gun at Jordan.
“Hey man,” Jordan says. “Just don’t do what I think you’re going to do.” Through the window, the vehicle can be seen slowing to a stop near more dilapidated buildings.
Brandon quickly looks to his right before disappearing in that direction.
Jordan recoils to the sounds, his eyes wide and horrified.
Mel sits where Brandon sat, her left shoulder slightly red with her own blood. Thud! “He’s a good shot.” She looks at Jordan. “You owe me. Now, drive.” Jordan, horrified, shifts the car into gear and starts driving again.
Mel looks in the camera. “You know your friend there left this on right?” She grabs the camera, facing it around towards the dash. After a moment, all sounds stop and the screen turns black.
