Lucky Sevens

[ioha]

"You don't look that great, Wells!"

Carlos Wells was thrown with his back against a wall, blood running down in a slim stream over his left cheek.
Breathing heavily, Carlos cleared his throat and spit on the ground. Alright. Time to analyze.

He was on Freeport 6, docking bay #17, about 50 metres from his Switchblade. Surrounding him, two men, miners, one pointing a gun, the other one barehanded, ready to hit him again. There was blood on that second guy's knuckles. Carlos' blood.

"Why don't you tell us where you hid the money, hm?"

That second guy again. Carlos didn't even know his name. He baptized him Ginger, due to his hair. Ginger wasn't very tall, maybe about 1 metre and 70, but his punches sure hurt. No wonder, looking at his muscle-packed body. Ginger also had a stupid face, mostly due to that bold grin.
The other one was more quiet and didn't seem to be the punching type. Mr Yellow - his overall - clutched his pistol tightly, not looking away from Carlos and Ginger. Yellow was tall and thin. His green eyes were wandering between Ginger and Carlos nervously.
Great couple they were.

Carlos breathed in. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, he was helped exhaling. The punch he just received pumped all air out of his lungs.
Gasping, Carlos dropped to his knees.

"You sure talk less once you're faced by a pair of fists, eh?"

Carlos glared at him.

"Well, how'd we end up like this anyways?"