The Flea Market (Chapter 1)

[Harakiri]

The Flea Market

 

By: Ratchet

 

 

 

---Chapter 1---

 

Zach Archer's eyes focused on a fat man, waddling like an off-balance penguin. The man wore a flannel shirt and a pair of Levi's. His beard reminded Zach of a member of ZZ-Top.

 

Zach stood from the rickety wooden chair he had sat in for an hour, and yelled out at him.

 

Hey man, you look like you want to buy something naturey'

 

The fat man turned from his quest towards the corn dog dealer.

 

Yeah, what is it you got? He replied, somewhat snotty, like he wanted to murder any man in his way to the food court.

 

Zach led him inside the small square, where he kept three tables stacked with junk.

 

Just another day for Zach Archer at the Lamburgh Flea Market, in Pinnellas County Florida.

 

 

 

Zach Archer was not a rich man. He pretty much lived off of selling garbage he had found at the flea market. He lived in a trashy, rundown apartment complex housing the largest city of cockroaches in the world. He was one of three people who lived in it. One of his neighbors was a goth kid who dropped out of high school and uses most of his money from working at Burger King to buy drugs. The other was a strictly Christian guy who sold little leather backed bibles to people on the street.

 

Zach was a self proclaimed Trash Hunter. He basically lived off of digging through peoples garbage early on garbage day, and finding everything he could use to create something to sell, or find broken furniture he could repair. He threw all his finds in the bed of a pick up truck and then drove back home, spending an hour watching the news before driving to the flea market. While he was there, he worked on his trash while the few patrons who came into his little shop browsed.

 

 

 

It was noon, and Zach was hungry. He felt his stomach growl, so called his buddy from across the way over. Fred sold comic books and action figures in a rectangle across the sidewalk. His brother Ted also sold stuff with him, and while one of them helped customers, the other usually leafed through some sort of comic book.

 

Fred was reading an old issue of Captain America when he heard Zach's yells and ran over.

 

I'm gonna grab a corn dog or something. Want anything? Zach asked politely.

 

No, Ted brought Chex Mix and lots of Mountain Dew. I'm set man. Fred replied.

 

You're gonna get fat from all that crap. Zach started to walk away, then stopped right outside of his store.

 

Son of a... He muttered.

 

Standing with a knife pointed toward a woman cradling a baby, a medium sized man wearing beaten and old clothes held his arm out as she dumped all her money into his palm.

 

Where the hell are police? Zach asked to himself as he ran toward the mugger.

 

Zach stopped behind him. Everyone watched, but no one did anything, the typical civilian attitude. As long as they weren't directly being threatened, screw whoever is.

 

Zach tapped the mugger's shoulder. When the man turned, Zach punched him in the jaw, sending the money into the air.

 

The crowd suddenly cheered, as if this was some kind of movie, and the hero had defeated the insidious villain.

 

Zach knew it wasn't as easy as in the movies.

 

The mugger came up and sliced at Zach's stomach. Zach jumped back and grabbed the wrist of the hand with the knife, twisting sharply until a CRACK was heard. The knife dropped to the ground, and the police finally showed up.

 

Move out of the way! The police screamed as they threw the mugger to the ground. One of the men in blue walked over to Zach, and shook his head.

 

Shouldn't have gotten involved.

 

Zach pointed at the officers chest. Should have been paying attention. They don't pay three of you law enforcers to not enforce the law. Pay attention.

 

The officer grabbed Zach's finger. I swear to God I just want to take my tazer, and watch you roll around.

 

That would be police brutality, you'd be out of a job, and in jail.

 

We get here as soon as we can, you know that idiot.

 

Maybe you should quit smoking out in the field south of here, and patrol the place.

 

The officer's face was red. Zach wanted to laugh.

 

Next time you interfere, I swear to god...

 

What, you'll let the person get mugged, killed, etcetera, and then decide once the culprit has gotten away it's a good time to care about your job?

 

I don't need you doing my job for me though!

 

I'm simply doing what I should have. I should have helped. Get out of my face, I don't need idiots breathing down my neck.

 

Zach turned and walked toward the food court.

 

 

 

The trailer was decorated in gold, making it look more like it belonged in some kind of circus. Beside a window, there was a menu, the words written in red. The man poking his head out of the window stared down at Zach, who laughed.

 

I can't believe you would tell off an officer like that man. You're cold hearted.

 

You don't have to tell me that. Russia froze my body, my heart, my soul. Zach laughed, though inside, the memories of Russia made him want to break down and cry.

 

The man put his head back into the trailer, and brought it back out, this time with two corn dogs.

 

Here you go man. Zach took them.

 

Thanks. Zach headed back towards his store, slowly taking a bite off of one of the corn dogs.

 

The police were done, and carrying the mugger off. The lady who was mugged cradled her baby, rocking it back and forth.

 

Zach decided to go to her. She looked up from the ground, and he noticed the tears.

 

He handed her the corn dog he hadn't taken a bite out of. She took it slowly, and muttered a thank you before going back to her cries.

 

Zach grabbed her shoulders. She was barely twenty.

 

Come on, it's over, there is no point crying.

 

But Daddy said...

 

Zach then knew what all the crying was about. She wasn't the kind of person who could live on her own, she needed her parents. It explained everything.

 

Listen, hush. Your baby is asleep, and the tears are gonna wake him, and he's gonna start crying too.

 

She sniffed. My baby's a girl!

 

Zach wanted to smack himself. Of course she is. Um, emotions spread pretty fast. Everyone around you are going to be sad. Quit crying, and start lightening up a little. He shook her shoulder and walked away.

 

The woman looked up. Can I have your phone number?

 

Zach's eyes grew wide. Um, sure, I guess.

 

He gave her his cell phone number, and then ran back to his store.

 

 

 

SCORE! Fred yelled when Zach returned.

 

Shut up. Zach sat in his wooden chair.

 

Fred started to walk away. Have fun man!

 

Zach rolled his eyes.

 

The place would close at 4:00, and he usually stayed behind to finish any work on furniture he was doing, so no one was usually around, except for the police.

 

 

 

It was nearing five in the afternoon when Zach found himself avoiding a hail of bullets from the woman he had saved. Her finger squeezed the trigger slowly, like she had feelings for the man she was attempting to murder, but had to do it. Had to kill him.

 

Her alibi had been perfect with the mugging. Now, he found out it was a ploy.

 

It was when he was closing his store, pulling the iron gate across the place and putting the lock on it, that he found himself rolling away from the bullets of the Colt .44.

 

As he rolled, he remembered the cops, and remembered that even the sound of a gun shot wouldn't bring them over any faster.

 

Zach continued rolling around as the woman shot, until he was close enough to kick her legs out from under her. He kicked the gun out of her hand and grabbed it, placing it on her forehead.

 

It was perfect, wasn't it? She asked.

 

Yes, but you should not have been so close. I can tell you are not a pro at this. Which means there is someone else with a gun pointed at my head, either sniping, which would be impossible since there are no tall buildings around, or standing around the shadows.

 

Zach placed a foot on the woman's neck and fell to the ground, avoiding a couple shots from behind him.

 

Zach shot, and struck the assailant. After a grunt, there was a THUMP!

 

Girl, you are messing with the wrong person.

 

I'm not messing with you. It's Vladimir Dmitriev. He's found you finally, and he wants you dead.

 

You are B. S'ing me! Zach noticed he was crushing her neck. Her breath was ragged, and tears were streaming down her face.

 

I will let you live, but make sure to have fun in prison. Zach shot the rest of the pistols clip into the ground around the dead man, and the smeared his fingerprints with his shirt. He handed the gun to the girl, and stood her up. He then held her until he could hear the patter of feet on pavement.

 

The police are here, and I have to go.

 

You are a cold hearted bastard! She said. Leaving me like this. Burn in hell.

 

Last time I went to hell, it froze everything on me. I've already frozen in hell, and survived. It made me the man I am today. Next time you see Vlad, he's going to kill you. Tell him that next time I see him, there will be nothing left of him but ashes.

 

Zach ran between stores, until he got to a fence. He jumped it and ran away, toward the parking lot. His car was back at the flea market, and he was not going to get involved with whatever was going on.

 

 

 

The policemen shot the woman and took her gun. Two tall men then hefted the two dead bodies over there shoulders and walked back from where they came.

 

Tell Vlad that tomorrow, we need to have half his army here.

 

Isn't half a bit of overkill?

 

Who are we screwing with? Asked one of the police.

 

Fine.

 

The other police man pulled a cell phone out and punched in a number, which sent him directly to Vlad's private line.

 

Yes? He asked, his Russian accent prominent.

 

Prepare half the army for tomorrow. Make sure they know to scare all the people out. Then we'll get rid of the target, and get out before the real police and maybe even the SWAT shows up.

 

Knowing Zach Archer, he'll probably make enough commotion that the SWAT will show up. I will prepare the army. Tomorrow, we will have one hell of a fire burning, and hopefully it will consume that nuisance.

 

 

 

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Eh, I am not very good at writing about real world situations, I know. I am better at fantasy, but it was worth a shot. This will be five or six parts, and it's for a couple girls at school who like my writing and wanted me to write something other than a story about vampires (which I wrote specifically for them, so I am not going to post it :lol: :oops: )