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voicemail

“SCOTT!!!” He yelled, “Scott, open up the damn door!”

He pounded on the door with the butt of his pistol. Flecks of blood hit the door as small dents and chips of off white paint marked where the pistol had struck.

Gus pressed his ear to the door straining to detect any sign of life from the other side. He waited while he slowly breathed in and out – three deep calming breaths.

He pulled his ear away from the door. A sticky pattern of almost dried blood left the shape of his ear on the door. A red splat above the ear marked where he had left his hand.

In the silence there was a small beep that Gus finally heard. Between yelling and pounding on the door he had missed it before. He shoved his gun back into his pocket and reached into his jeans. He pulled out his Droid and read the alert.

New voicemail blinked on the screen as a quiet beep flashed. He thumbed the screen and brought up his voicemail. The old phone was on its last legs – hell Gus felt like he was on his last legs.

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