Businessman v. Cab Driver

When the thin man arrives for work - stepping to the ground from the northern fence carefully, almost skeptically - he slowly lopes, then squats on his haunches over the Broker. Within minutes he strips him of everything, even of things with little to no material value: house keys, a ball of crumpled receipts, dental floss.

After the search he fishes around his pocket, pulls out a greasy pen knife. The blade's spotted with rust. Prying open the Broker's mouth, he looks inside, then (using the Broker's chin as a fulcrum) pops out three gold fillings. He holds them in his hand, stirring, watching the shine. He looks up at the Businessman and smiles. A black and spotted smile. The Businessman walks off. The Broker pockets the fillings, stands, and begins stripping the body.

By the time the Cab Driver arrives the fat man and the haggard woman and the filthy boy all stand against the northern fence, watching with eager interest as the thin man pokes his way through the swollen corpses by the pyre.

What's going over there? asks the Cab Driver.

The Businessman explains. He explains that that man and his family are the new caretakers. He shows him the contract for their work. He explains their payment, and the service they render.

The Cab Driver asks when they'll be digging the mass grave. The Businessman nods. Soon, he says, soon.

Well, says the Cab Driver, they're not the only ones made a killing on the people what come up here.

Until today, the Cab Driver - a forgettable man wearing all denim - operated a profitable small business, shuttling the majority of the duelists up from the nearby town through the small backroads - all dirt and gravel - past the turn-off to the old hotel, to the dueling ground. (What anybody says they work at that hotel or stay there they don't, cause no one has since they closed it back twenty years, he adds.) He's left his taxi business to fight.

To fight you, he clarifies.

The Businessman holds his chin up, looking down on the Cab Driver. We'll see, he says.

The Cab Driver's about to respond when something captures his eye. He watches as the thin man, knee pressed against the chest of naked corpse, moves his arm in a sawing motion. With his back hiding the action, the Cab Driver can't make out the man's purpose. He asks the Businessman.

The Businessman looks, sweat on his forehead. He turns back, obviously unfomfortable, stepping casually to block the Cab Driver's view of the action.

What what? he says. Man's doing his job. Knows his work.

The two men chose their guns. They take the field, standing ten paces apart.

As the Cab Driver redies himself, he looks back to the thin man. And it's then - just at that moment - that the thin man stands, hands hidden, holding something beneath the front of his overalls. The two men - both shaken - turn from each other quickly: the thin man runs to his kin by the fence, the Cab Driver takes his stance. While by the pyre the body of Broker lies naked and pale, save for a red hole in his waist.

They raise their guns. Their guns go off.