I punched the number into the payphone after the job was complete, just like I was instructed to. Goddamit, pick up the phone. Why isn’t she picking up?? The dial tone continued ringing. I looked around anxiously, outside it was pitch black. The only source of light for miles was from within the phone booth I was standing in. It was quite a trek, but I had selected this place for a reason. Nobody would pass by at this hour, let alone this season – it had been snowing for days.
I stayed on the phone, waiting for someone to pick up. doo doo… doo doo… still no answer. I checked the time on my watch: four a.m. What the fuck do I do now? Why didn’t we come up with a plan B? Holy fuck. Frustrated, I hung up the receiver. This was no time to panic. What was my next step?
I looked out of the phone booth again to make sure that nobody had followed me, I was alone. I stepped out into the snow, walked around to the side to shield myself from the win, and sat down, back against the wall. What did I get myself into?
The calm that I felt faded away and was now replaced by fear and anxiety of the crime I had committed half an hour ago. Well, the crime I had looked like I committed.
I was told by Miss Chicanery (a fake name, I’m sure) I’d be paid double the reward of turning her in by donning a wig and dressing up like I had just killed someone in cold blood. I only had to walk past some security cameras to lead the authorities astray, while she (who would have done the deed), exited the same building in the opposite direction.
I had to make sure that I wasn’t followed, call her up to check in, and meet her somewhere else to collect my reward. Because she wasn’t answering, and I had no idea what to do next. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, I needed something to calm down my racing heart.
Now’s not the time to panic.
I finished my smoke and headed back into the phone booth, I tried the number one more time.
“What took you so long?” said the voice on the other end.
“Me?? I called you about five minutes ago and nobody picked up!”
“You must have dialled the wrong number, I’ve been waiting for you to call all night and my phone didn’t even ring once!”
“Forget about it, now that we’re talking – where do we go next?”
“You sure nobody is on your tail?”
“I’m pretty-“
There was the sound of a gunshot on the other end, followed by the thud of the cellphone dropping to the ground. What the fuck just happened over there? The sound of footsteps crept towards the phone. A man cleared his throat and spoke.
“Miss Chicanery?”
I remained silent. Do they think she is me??
“I know you’re listening. Nice decoy, but you’re not going to get away this time. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
He hung up. I placed the receiver back in its place and collapsed against the wall. Holy fuck. What did I get myself into?
Image Prompt from Reddit: Phonebooth