Blue

It’s yellow.

What?

The sky. It is yellow, can’t you see it?

No you idiot, the sky is blue. The only reason you see it yellowish is because of the sun, you know... reflecting upon rocks and dirt, I mean you are in a dessert... Jesus!

That's funny, you know?  the sky is neither blue nor yellow. Take a good look at it, kiddo. This is probably the last time you will be able to see it.

The man pressed the gun against Rogers head. He was very upset. Every second of that plan happened to be thought in such detail that it couldn’t had gone wrong in one thousand years. 

 But it did. 

A distant roar appeared as if the dessert itself was mourning over such a tragedy, ten million dollars were lost in that disaster of an operation. The man charged the gun but Roger didn’t even blink, maybe because he was ready to die or maybe because he was already dead.

 A truck was getting closer; everything they could see was a big cloud of dirt lifting slowly as the great machine kept moving towards them.

I hope you are ready, kiddo. These guys… they won’t be as merciful as me.

Who cares, I did the right thing. I don’t need to be begging for my life, if you are going to kill me then fucking do it, you are wasting your time and your boss’s time, maybe they’ll kill you for that too. Fuckers.

A tiny smile was drawn upon the man’s face.

You have got some balls, kiddo. I give you that.

Roger kept looking at the sky.

You know what? – Roger asked.

What?

It is fucking blue. Like everything else, right?

Blue is what got us all to this point, correct.

The truck was almost there.  

What is ten million dollars for you anyways?

Kiddo, ten million dollars is more than fucking 98% of this planet's population is ever going to have in their god damn bank accounts. It does matter. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Right… 

The truck stopped.

An old man got down. He was bold and white; his eyes were blue and filled with death. He was a bad guy; there was no doubt about it.  

Are you the one everyone is talking about? – Roger shouted.

The old man crouched and grabbed a big rock.

No I am not. You think everyone’s as stupid as you are, son?  

Roger sighed.

I am here to bash your skull with this rock. I won’t even have to waste a bullet in your cheap empty fucking head.

Is that right?  

Yes, you cost us ten million dollars. You even know what that means? It means that a huge stash got burned in your little game.

It didn’t.

What? – Both men asked at the exact same time.

What do you mean it didn’t? It didn’t burn, is that what you’re saying?  

That’s what I am saying, bitch.  

I had to burn the lab. You lost some money there but I didn’t burn the product.

Get up, kiddo.

Roger got up and tried to wipe away the dust on his jeans.

Where is it, then?  The old man asked.

Did you know that 98 % of the world’s population will never have more than a million dollars in their bank accounts? – Roger inquired.

The old man smiled.

Well now my good friend Bob here has two million in his.

Bob aimed the gun at the old man.

Bob, what the fuck is this? What the fuck are you doing?

He is right old bastard. It is all about sending a message. You pay too bad to kept your employees loyalty, I am sorry.

Welcome to the 2% Bob.

Thanks Roger.

He will know about this, he will find you and kill you just as he did with Gus. 

Oh, don’t worry, we have it all covered. – Bob answered.

You see, everyone has a price. I learned how to fucking cook and then I robbed you. He thinks the stash got burned so yeah, I will keep the money and the knowhow. A new cook’s in town. 

You think your meth is as good as his? Give me a fucking break. 

It is, you’ll see…

Hey Roger, wait. – Bob said.

What?

How will he be able to see it if he’s dead?

You’re right…

What? No, no, no… please! I won’t talk, I won’t say a goddamn thing, I swear to God.  

Everyone has its price, old bastard.

BANG!

His head was wide open. No one ever misses a point blank shot.

Good job Bob.

No problem kiddo.

Did you bring the sprays? – Roger asked.

Yes, of course. – Bob replied.

Then spray the motherfucking side of the truck. I want him to find it. 

Are you sure about this, kiddo? That man is really dangerous, If he somehow suspects that you have his crystals… he’ll kill you…

I know bob. Do it.

Bob started to paint the truck’s cargo side as if it was a perfect canvas.

“Where are you, Heisenberg?”

Like that?

Yes, he´ll know I am looking for him. And he will find me.

Hey, Bob…

Yes?

Ask me again.

Ask you again what?

Ask me about the color of the sky.

What’s the sky color, kiddo?

It’s fucking blue.

A humble tribute to Vince Gilligan’s Breaking Bad.