The wind was blowing hard now, peppering Naga’s face with grit. He took a last drag of his cigarette, dropped it, screwed the stub into the dirt with his sneaker.
The sun was low behind the trees, sky burnt orange at the horizon. Where was Maja?
Robbing the convenience store had been her idea. Said she’d seen the clerk bundle notes into a battered tobacco tin, hide it under the counter. The guy was ashy with age, walked with a frame. One look at Maja’s hunting knife and he’d hand the tin over. Sweet and simple, she said. Reluctantly, Naga had agreed.
He blinked, cuffed his eyes.
But the old man had screamed – a weird, trapped rodent noise. He’d stumbled forward, lashed at Maja with his walker. The knife flashed. Naga ran.
Something his mom used to say pinballed through his head.
Say no to yes, beta.
And if you want to know where I found the title, just look at that scabby wall …