The warehouse door was half open with sunlight streaming through to form an arrow of white light across the concrete floor. Mister Green, Mister Orange and Mister Blue sat in the shadows against three of the four walls, visible to each other only in silhouette. It had all gone so very wrong and they were waiting for death to come to them.
Mister Green was the first to get to his feet and move into the spotlight.
‘It wasn’t my freaking fault, you didn’t stick to the plan. Anyway, when this is all over he’ll see it my way. I know he will. He’s green too so he’ll forgive me. I’ll be OK.’
He returned to the shadows and slumped to the floor, blood seeping through his shirt. Mister Orange jumped up, uninjured, and strode confidently to centre stage.
‘I just waited as you freaking idiots screwed it up. He knows I did what I could. No blame attached to me. And I was raised properly, no screwball city religion. And he’s orange so no danger.’
Mister Orange threw a look of disdain at the other two and returned to his chosen place of comfort. Mister Blue, who was in excruciating pain, watched him closely. His lower left leg was half gone. He’d got the worst of it and it had been a very bad day. He crawled to the white light.
‘You two chickened out and left me to die. It’s a miracle I made it here. And what’s the use? We know we’re finished. But he’s blue, everybody knows that. I’ll be fine, he’ll see me right. He forgives anything, man.’
Blue dragged himself back to the wall as the other two hurled abuse.
The three men waited. No-one spoke again.
As he lay dying Mister Blue made up his mind to settle this matter. Hidden in shadow he blew away his comrades in arms only to succumb seconds later. The warehouse stayed silent as night fell and the spotlight faded to darkness.
It had been a good idea but Mister Green, Mister Orange and Mister Blue never resolved their disagreement. They didn’t get the chance to meet their maker. It was his choice, not theirs.