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Chapter 4

The first thing he saw was money, several thick wads of bills, one of hundreds, the rest of twenties.

“Holy smoke,” he whispered.

Taking them out, he looked at what was underneath them and frowned. It was a gun. Not that he knew anything about guns, but to his unpracticed eye, it looked very lethal. He took it out as well, and a small box of ammo, setting them by the cash. The last thing in the box was a sheaf of papers. He lifted them out and went over to the sofa. He tried to read the top one and realized he was so tired his sight was blurring when he tried to make out the small print.

Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Now I need to sleep. If I can.

He put everything back in the box in reverse order, closed it, and hid it underneath his bed. Then he crawled into the sleeping bag and despite his fear he wouldn’t sleep, he did.

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