Harry Trochinski WoB Short Story Contest 11/12/2025
A Day on the Job.
I push past my father in our apartment. The stupid drunk barely notices. Him and mom weren’t always this bad, like before the war When grandpa died fighting it really took a toll on them. Both of them started drinking, and it got bad. As a result, all of our money went down the drain. My sisters and I had to resort to doing anything it took to survive. Molly cooks for us. Poor Elizabeth was only eight when she went out to look for food and never came back. Every day on my way to work I still have hope I will find her, hiding in a ditch or sitting in a box or maybe adopted by a family who felt sorry for her. In that case, I would leave her. Her life would most definitely be better than ours.
I walked out of the door and through the alley, the same alley I walk through every day. We were one of the lucky families who got to keep their apartment, supposedly because grandpa was some kind of famous war hero. I often wonder why that would only get us a one-room apartment. I am extremely glad to leave until the smell of death hits my nose.
As I walk a little further I find the source: a raccoon. The thing is foaming at its mouth, and I’m upset that I will have to clean it up when I get back. For now I need to do my job. I walk through the streets, trash and waste and people all around me as I try to pick up the pace. I hear a shouting voice behind me, and I turn to see what happened. Mikey, my closest friend, is yelling at me.
“J! Over here!”
Everyone calls me J, like Mikey does, but it’s not my name. I would never let anyone know my real name in this dangerous world. The war changed everything.
Called “The War of the North”, it started because some of the countries were experimenting with new weaponry, so the others fought to put an end to it. As a result, all of the world powers needed to take time to regain their strength. With the governments weakened, drugs started to be sold. Mikey and I were hired as mercenaries for one of those distributing. Our job is to “take care of” competitors.
Mikey mentions how he stole a couple of necklaces before he saw me, and we laugh. We approach the empty warehouse where our operations take place, and find the secret entrance behind a dumpster in the back. Sammy looks up at us.
“How’s it going? We’ve got a new job for you two today, a couple of our guys intercepted a note to meet behind the old school, and you are gonna stop them.”
Mikey sighs, “The old school? I hate that place. It gives me the creeps.”
“I don’t care,” Sammy says.
“Well, just give us our orders and we’ll be on our way.” Mikey says. He’s hoping we can get this done quickly
“Calm down. These guys are armed, you have to be too. Go get your weapons.” Sammy glares at Mikey when she says this, upset at his carelessness.
Mikey and I grab our gear, and Sammy hands us the papers with the information on the people we are hired to take out: where they will be, what we should expect and anything else we should know We leave for the school. The walk there is uneventful, as it usually is. We take the back alleys, the trails through the small forests, and on one horrible occasion, the rooftops. Neither of us are accepting high jobs after that. Mikey fractured his shin and I sprained my ankle.
Mikey pauses near a bush and motions for me to stop. “I think this is where we’re supposed to wait. See those benches right there? That's where the guys are gonna be sitting, and once they arrive, it’s our time to go up and ‘talk’ to them.”
We end up waiting for hours. That's the worst part of this job, just waiting and not being able to do anything. Eventually darkness falls. Mikey points. I look. There they are. Three men, sitting on the bench. They have briefcases, and big coats, most likely to hide whatever it is they don’t want anyone to see. Could be the drugs, could be their weapons. We start to walk forward. As we approach they notice us.
“Is the sky blue?” the tallest one calls as he rises. A password.
I’m nervous. Accidentally say the wrong thing and it’s over. We left our papers in our hiding spot so we didn’t look suspicious.
“As blue as the lakes.” Mikey says. He could sense my hesitation. That is just one failure for me tonight, any more and I may not be walking away. I think of my family and how I need this job to be successful for them.
The tall one makes a motion with his hands. The other two stand up and walk towards us. Mikey is about to pull out his knife when one of them grabs him. Before I can register what is happening, the other one is on me. The tall one pulls something out of his coat. It’s a badge.
“Freeze! You are under arrest and have the right to remain silent.”
It was a sting operation! These cops planted the guy with the note to get us to come here! I want to fight back, but we are in handcuffs before we can do anything about it.
Mikey struggles against his restrainer, but eventually he gives up. I begin to fear for our lives, as resisting arrest is punishable by jail time in this city, and that is the last thing my family needs right now. They would surely starve.
The two shorter officers go to use the payphone down the block. The police departments, at least those still around, rarely use radios anymore. Probably because they can’t afford them, and radios are easy to tune into, so anyone can hear what they are saying. It sucks that they stopped: It made our jobs much easier.
The lone officer comes by and turns to Mikey, and Mikey spits in his face. The officer punches him right in the gut and Mikey goes down.
“That’ll happen to you too kid, so just listen to me.” The officer says to me as he comes by to hold onto me so I don’t run. Mikey is still on the ground.
The officer lets go of me and steps back, as he can tell I wouldn’t put up a fight. I am only not fighting because I am trying to make a way out of this situation. I have found one.
“Hey! These handcuffs are loose! I could slip out whenever!”. There is no order to what I am saying, I just want him to come closer
“Shut it kid. We’re taking you to the station.” The officer says as he walks closer He’s playing right into my hand.
“No you’re not! No you’re not!” I scream as I jump up and down.
Mikey makes a gurgling noise. I think he is trying to tell me to stop, but I need to do this, for him and my family He slowly works his way back to his feet, but falls to his knees and stays there.
The police officer steps closer. “Enough!” He shouts. He bends over and grips on to my handcuffs. His final mistake.
I pull my hands forward right on to my back. As I do this, I swing my upper body backwards. My plan works and the officer's head slams directly onto my back and he stumbles.
“Ow!” he shouts and tries to grab his weapon. I turn and kick him right in the chest. He keels over and I start to kick him on the head. He is soon unconscious. I fumble around with his pockets looking for a key or something to free myself from these cuffs. I am sure that the other two officers will be back soon. They definitely heard that noise. Eventually I find the key, but that was only a part of the challenge, as now I have to undo the lock. It is hard work with my hands behind my back, and it feels like it takes forever. They come loose. I rip my hand out and turn to work on Mikey’s hands, but I can’t do it before the other officers return from the payphone.
They raise their weapons and shout words I can’t hear at us, and I tell mikey to run. We bolt, trying to get behind the school. We are too slow, and the officers fire. The report said they would have knives, not guns. We are underprepared. Extremely underprepared. Eventually, one of the shots hits me and I fall down. It struck me right on my calf, and I am in the most pain I have ever felt. I scream and shout at Mikey to get out of here.
Mikey comes to help me, and I try to yell at him, but I am hit again, this time right in the side, and again in the arm. After this I am on the ground, unable to move. Mikey takes the key and undoes his cuffs, and he tries to drag me away behind the school but he is hit and he lets go of me. He grabs me again and after a few seconds of pulling we are behind the school. I’m bleeding out, and my blood soaks the concrete. Mikey collapses from the effort. I begin to think.
I think about my grandpa, watching me die next to a can full of garbage. I think of my parents, going about their day, but surely noticing my absence, right? I think about Molly Poor Molly Both of her siblings lost, no way to get money She will try to work, the same way I did, but she will suffer the same fate that I did as well. Mikey is looking down at me now, tears in his eyes.
“Don’t die, please. Don’t leave me here, J. You’re all I have.” He is crying now I look at him as shouting voices fill the air
“Mikey.” I manage to get out.
“Yeah?” he says between sobs.
“My name is Jason. Call me Jason.” I say He is the first person to hear my real name since I got into this work.
“Okay Jason. Please don’t die Jason. Please.” He cries. The police are almost on us.
I look at him. “Run Mikey. Get out of here, but remember me. Remember Jason.” My strength is gone. I stop fighting.
“I will Jason. I will.” He looks at me one last time, and he turns to run.
I feel my last breath leave my lips as the cops arrive. One chases Mikey, the other stays with me. He stares down at me, and he aims his weapon at my head. In his mind, just one more dealer off the streets. In mine, the death of my family. Of Mikey, probably. Surely our boss will think of this as his fault, if he ever makes it back. This is truly the end. He fires.
I begin to leave my body. Everything is glowing. I see Elizabeth, dead after all. I see my grandpa. He welcomes me. I am pure now, as I am just my soul. No bad in me now as I start to go to the end. In my final moments of true thought, I stare at my body one last time. I don’t recognize it. How could I have ever inhabited something so dirty? I wonder how I lived like this. Like a raccoon, scavenging in the streets, until I fall over dead, foaming at the mouth in an alleyway.