Chapter I

Date: 2015-10-07; view: 616.

Prologue

- I never asked for this. I never did.

This thought has been bothering him for years now. This one single thought that became the motto of the rest of his life. Trevor was alone on the dusty countryside road, driving a rented car with a shovel on the back seat towards a place which was only known to three people, including himself. Twenty years in Bowley Prison didn't go well on him. He lost his shape after the regular beatings by the Mexicans, his skin went deathly pale and his hair began to recede rapidly after he heard that one of his partners in crime, Richard, was found hanged in his parent's apartment. Trevor knew he was next.

It was twelve years ago when he first met Geoffrey and Leroy. What a cheerful fellow Trevor was back then! His stunning smile attracted the affection of the girls, and his wavy black hair attracted their envy. And what a sportsman he used to be! Pretty smart, too – admitted to one of the best colleges in Colorado. One day he'd make a fine engineer. But back then... Eighteen years old, careless as a child – and a child he was, indeed. A little bit too naive, maybe.

Geoffrey, on the other hand, was already a seasoned man. He was probably reaching his thirties – Trevor never actually had neither the thought nor the time to ask him about his age – when they first became acquainted with each other. Well, perhaps “acquainted” is a bit of an overstatement here. They didn't get to know each other very well that sunny day in St. Mathew's natural reserve. One doesn't really get to know the person who is trying to run away with your wallet, does he? Maybe Trevor was just a bit too shocked to chase the thief. Maybe he had just stopped to admire the wonderful view of a man running away into the sunset. But the reason he didn't chase Geoffrey doesn't matter.

What matters is what happened three days later. Trevor didn't care much for the wallet – it didn't contain that much cash, the documents were in the other pocket, and he forgot that fancy pager his dad got him for his birthday at home. So when one of his friends invited him home to celebrate Trevor's admission to college he agreed without a single thought of doubt. He was good to go, ready to have some good time with his good old buddy Richard.

Trevor arrived at Richard's apartment somewhere at 19:30. Richard, 22, was a sophomore student at a different college, and he lived in a dormitory near the campus. Trevor knew that he had a roommate – a rather noisy one, but, quote, “meh, kinda cool, I guess?”. Gladly, the roommate was supposed to be out for tonight. However, when Trevor buzzed the door, he heard an unfamiliar, rough voice:

- Well who the heck would that be?

- Oh for the love of God, can't you just stay quiet for a second? - sounded a second unfamiliar voice, a bit more squeaky than the first one. - Hold on, I'll get the door.

Seconds later the door opened for a few inches, and a messy hairy head of a young Afro-American man sticked out of the aperture:

- Eh? What do you want? - asked the man. None of his features seemed familiar.

- Uh, hi? I'm supposed to meet my friend Richard? He, uh, lives here?

- Well sorry fellow, Richard ain't home. I'm his roommate, want me to pass him anything?

- No thanks, I think I'll get going. You, uh, have any idea where he might be?

- Not a single one, man.

- I see... Well, okay then. Bye.

The door closed without a reply. Moments later a thunderous shout was heard:

- OH COME ON! - sounded the squeaky voice around the hallways.

The door opened.

- You. You still here? Get in. Quick.

Trevor hesitated.

- Don't you understand what I just said? Should I rephrase? Okay. My dearest chap, would you be so kindly obliged to proceed through this door with me in the fastest manner possible? - asked the man, staring menacingly at Trevor.

Trevor hesitated. The squeaky person did not.