Poor Planning

When he reached the edge of the water, Eddie looked back towards the road, straining to see if anyone had followed. He was now covered in sweat and dirty from the trail. It's the same trail he had mapped out two months ago. About once a week, he would make his way here to walk the trail, keeping it sharp in his mind. The most important thing was getting to know the trail at dusk, then turning dark. He had it memorized, he was getting better with every trip; now it was the real thing. It had taken him twice as long tonight, which is pretty accurate with all the planning he had done. The only thing he didn't take into account was how physical it had been.

He was breathing hard, now with his hands propped on his knees, he starting dry heaving. He coughed, he coughed hard, spitting several times, but there wasn't much left to spit. He needed water. Eddie dropped backwards and fell into a sitting position, then rolled onto his back, looking up at the stars. He laid there a moment, rethinking where he might have gone wrong.

He sat back up, exhaling hard, finally starting to calm down. Eddie laid his hand on top of the duffle bag, "Well my friend, it's the end of the line." He used the duffle bag to push himself to his feet, then made his way to the small boat ramp.

There were two boats tied off and the water was still. This time of night, no one was around. He dragged the bag closer to one of the boats and lifted one end of the bag up on the edge. He grabbed the other end and lifted; he could feel the veins in his neck and forehead bulging. Finally, he got the bag in position to roll it in. One end dropped into the bottom of the boat, while the other was propped up on one of the seats. Eddie pushed the boat into the water and jumped in. He sat down and placed the rows in the water and began rowing to his marker. He knew exactly where the deepest section was after rubbing elbows with the locals;it's the perfect spot.

Mike's head was hurting; it was throbbing. He had the strange sensation that he was upside down and his forehead was burning for some reason. All at once he could feel his knees pressed against something hard, and his back was killing him. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but black. When he moved his head, he could feel the canvas of the bag cut into him. He tried to move, but couldn't. As his mind and strength came to him, he realized he was moving, but not in a car. He could here water every now and then. When he tried to move, the whole world seemed to move. I'm in a boat.

Eddie reached his mark and slowed the boat. Now, how the hell am I going to do this? He started unzipping the bag and that's when he felt something stinging in his neck. Looking up, he noticed the arm sticking out of the bag and blood was everywhere, his blood. He tried to talk but only a cough came out; Mike raised out of the bag, looking Eddie in the eyes.

"You forgot about the knife didn't you?" Mike smiled.

Eddie's gun fired one shot; Mike never saw it coming. When Eddie collapsed, his body tipped the boat, and they both went in.