Old House Old Memories
Tory clenched his teeth.
A mixture of frustration and admiration coursing through him as he looked at Vik. The guy had a knack for stumbling upon both fortune and misfortune, often dragging Tory along for the ride. This time was no different.
As their stolen truck approached a seemingly abandoned house at the end of a desolate service road, Tory couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The two-story suburban house stood there, an enigma frozen in time, reminiscent of a bygone era.
Hidden beneath the sheltering branches of a massive tree, the house remained invisible from the main road and evaded the watchful eye of aerial recon bots. It was Vik's fortuitous timing and his presence on the same path that revealed this hidden gem. Tory had to admit, his partner had an uncanny ability to stumble upon unexpected opportunities.
No neighboring houses meant there would be no prying eyes or unwanted attention. With a quick confirmation that the house was vacant, Tory and Vik wasted no time in barging through its front door. They cautiously explored every room, taking note of the few usable items that could aid them during their stay.
To their delight, the house even had an underground garage where they could safely park their conspicuous truck, hiding their smoking gun from prying eyes.
Stepping into the dilapidated kitchen, Tory couldn't help but reminisce about their early days as partners. He took a sip from his lukewarm beer, the taste evoking memories of their past adventures.
"Hey, Vik, this place gives me flashbacks to our first gig together. Remember that? You were such a greenhorn back then," Tory chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Vik raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Ah, yes, the memories. But let's not forget who punked whom when we first met."
Tory's smile faltered as Vik's words hit home. It was a sore spot that Viktor knew how to exploit, a reminder of their unlikely beginnings.
Tory and Vik hadn't started as friends. They were both hustlers in their own right, with a significant age difference between them. Their paths crossed when a young Vik approached Tory to purchase a contraband item. Initially underestimating him, Tory quoted an exorbitant price, expecting the young boy to back down.
To his surprise, Vik haggled fiercely, slashing the price in half. Fernando reluctantly agreed, unknowingly falling into a trap. However to Tory's dismay, the money Vik used turned out to be counterfeit, leaving Tory humiliated and conned.
Caught up in a brawl the next day, they were both arrested and spent a month in jail together. It was during their shared confinement that their animosity transformed into camaraderie. Bound by their similar hustler lifestyles, they formed an unlikely bond and decided to team up once released.
Months turned into years as they embarked on various schemes, facing close calls that only served to strengthen their friendship. Vik, once a stranger, became the closest thing to family that Tory had ever known. The bond they shared surpassed that of blood brothers.
It was Vik who bestowed the nickname "Tory" upon Fernando, signifying his victories and their triumphs as a team. The memories of their shared experiences echoed through the dilapidated house, reminding them of how far they had come.
***
Returning to the present, Tory leaned back against the worn-out kitchen counter, contemplating their next move. His gaze fell upon Vik, his expression thoughtful.
"What do you think we should do now, Vik? Should we reach out to our contacts for information?" Tory's voice held a hint of uncertainty, skeptical about the risks involved.
Vik shook his head, his expression serious. "No, we can't afford to contact anyone. Our enemies are likely tracing calls, even from seemingly isolated contacts. We need to lay low, handle this ourselves."
Tory's shoulders sagged, but he understood the reasoning. In their current situation, involving others would only jeopardize their safety. He took a sip from his beer, realizing they needed to focus on self-reliance.
"And what about supplies? We can't survive just by breathing air," Tory said, his concern shifting to practical matters.
Vik's eyes sparkled mischievously as he revealed their hidden stash. "Don't worry, Tori. We've got enough fast food to last us a couple of days. After that, we'll figure something out."
As Tory considered their limited provisions, Vik's words stirred a sense of curiosity. He couldn't resist asking, "By the way, what's in the truck? You seem quite intrigued."
Vik grinned, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. "Well, my friend, it's time for a little Sherlocking. Let's uncover the mysteries hidden within."