This guy.
I was just protecting a friend, he got in over his head trying to shift to the shady side of business. Now someone had sent "This Guy" over to shake him down, or maybe even kill him. All I really knew about it was the panic that broke up my friend's voice over the phone. I met him out behind the mall, where a dense group of trees gave an illusion of dark forest, as long as you didn't listen to the cars whizzing by. He was supposed to meet "This Guy" there with a suitcase full of cash he didn't have. Between the two of us we decided it was best to meet this guy head on, take him out if we could. Sure "That Guy" could send some others to pick us off, but maybe he'd be nervous.
"This Guy" was supposedly pretty heavy, not in the weight sense, purely on reputation alone. He had a knife fetish and the people who'd seen him do his work weren't talking. We were there pretty early and "My friend" was twitching a little. He kept telling me how glad he was I was there which scared me a little. Somehow I'd earned a reputation too, but I didn't think a few fistfights earned as much respect as he was giving. Still I figured for the time being it wouldn't hurt. If "This Guy", who didn't know me, thought I might be something tougher I'd let him think that. I couldn't let him touch "My Friend", at least not if I was alive to stop it.
The only things I had going for me was my desperation, and the two colt pistols I had picked up at a pawn shop the day before. I spent all night cleaning and oiling and working those two guns. I test fired into a metal trash-can stuffed with blankets in my basement, so I knew they worked. Then I cleaned them and oiled them again, just to kill time. I couldn't sleep.
As the meet time got closer I gave "My Friend" the revolver, took off the safety for him so he wouldn't get nervous and forget. I tucked the other into my belt, flipping my shirt over it to hide it. I practiced getting it out a few time to make sure it wouldn't snag on anything. I really didn't like the feel of the gun against my stomach, I kept getting visions of my own guts spilling over my belt or a smoky bleeding hole in my leg.
When I was still a teenager I had collected knives, of all shapes and sizes, I never did anything with them, just kept them in a big box in my closet. To this day my family still gets me exotic or strange looking knives they find, usually in flea markets. I had a chrome handled butterfly knife in my toolbox so I got that out, a plan beginning to take shape. I didn't have a lot of hope it was going to work, but what else could I do?
"This Guy" walked onto the scene as casually as if he were picking up kids from tee-ball. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt and slacks under a loose fitting sports coat.
"Hi!" he said all cheerful and gave a little wave. He stopped a few paces from where I'd set myself. Two to three paces in front of Randy, and a little off to the side so I wasn't in "My Friend's" line of fire.
"I don't see any suitcase. Where's the money?" he had a high voice, a bit of an accent but I couldn't place it, maybe Italian, maybe Russian.
"I told "That Guy", I don't have any money. I did the one deal I'm not doing another. He got paid from the last time didn't he?" "My Friend" sounded Scared, but he didn't run. "This Guy" shook his head,slowly. His voice got cold, almost a hiss.
"I don't understand. You were supposed to have the money. In a case. For me." He edged forward a step, while he spoke, then another. I dropped one side of the butterfly knife so it swung open, and just left the blade and one handle hanging down. It was real discrete, didn't make a sound but the flash of the chrome caught his eye like I hoped it would.
"Don't creep up on me." I forced my voice to be low, threatening. His eyebrows raised slightly but he leaned back a bit. He moved his hand a little just enough to catch my eye and I saw he was holding a knife to, only his was not showy at all. The handle looked like smoky gray marble and the blade was all brushed steel, it barely seemed to catch the light. I tried not to swallow, he'd probably been holding it all along. Now I was sure "My Friend" and I were dead, he hadn't come just for money, his eyes were too cold.
"Alright," I said, raising my hand slowly letting the knife swing closed. "I've got the case up in my car here." I nodded back the way he'd come. I just needed him to be distracted for a second, then I was going to pull the colt semi from my pants and just start firing. I swear he was reading my mind, his lips twitched in what I had to assume was a smile and waved me on to lead the way.
"No way man." I said. "You start walking and we'll follow you." my legs were pillars of adrenaline jelly and I was almost too scared to try to walk, he must have seen my fear because he turned and started walking. "This Guy" probably figured I was too terrified of him to try anything, maybe he even thought we were really gonna pay him. He might have thought I only had the knife since I flashed it at him on purpose, but as soon as he turned away I pulled the pistol out and shot him right between the shoulder blades.
I was really close to him, I swear I felt the smoke and wind from the shot bounce off his back and brush past my hair. He flew forward a few feet landing half twisted around some scrub trees. I made myself walk up to him, he was lying down but he didn't seem dead. His body was moving a bit, his feet rubbing together lightly, his jaw working a little but only saliva came out. I didn't smell anything that could be his bowels releasing so I pointed at his head and looked away as I shot him in the head.
At least I meant to. Looking away must only work in movies, I missed shaving off a large part of his face. The bullet hit right under his sinus, there was a splintered mass of bone sticking out where his cheekbone used to be and I could see up under his eye the muscles twitching as his eyeball moved, his entire lower eyelid was gone as well as the whole side of his nose. He was making a groaning noise which was freaking me out.
I heard "My Friend" retch behind me, so he must have looked, but I smacked myself in the leg hard with the gun and clenched my teeth forcing the vomit down. This time I aimed carefully and put one bullet right behind his ear and another right behind his temple. There was a loud buzzing noise in my head that almost matched the gunshots. Everything looked a little fishbowled, blackening around the edges. I realized I wasn't breathing, but as soon as I sucked in a deep breath I almost fell over vomiting. The smell of the gunpowder and a rusty iron smell thickened in my throat. "My Friend" grabbed my arm and pulled me away from "This Guy's" corpse and we sort of shuffled, ran out of the trees.
It was pretty early morning and I didn't notice anyone standing around staring at us, but I could feel hundreds of eyes staring at me. My ears were still ringing from the shots and we tried to stay cool as I drove off. I tried to go slow but it was hard, we were both pretty adrenaline racked, and not thinking clearly. "My Friend" still had the revolver in his hand, at least he pulled it out to cover me I thought. I pointed at it
"Put that shit away man." He looked around wildly for a second, then caught on and shoved the pistol into his coat pocket.
"Is the safety on?" I felt I was shouting over the ringing in my ears, but he didn't say anything. He pulled the gun out again and carefully switched on the safety. He seemed calmer, focusing on something seemed to help calm him down.
He looked over at me, "Shit, you're all covered in blood." I flipped down the visor mirror and sure enough I was speckled like a painter but all over in red dots. He pulled an old t-shirt from the back seat and I tried to wipe up a little but it wasn't working while driving. I thought we should get a hotel room, one of the cheap prostitute rooms off the highway where we could clean up, but I didn't have any cash.
"You have any money? We could get a room and I could get all this blood washed off." He pulled out his wallet and started to check.
"Man, I should have taken his wallet, you know? We could have got some money out of this." I giggled a little, he looked at me worried but I reined it in. My whole body was still shaking like a leaf, and I could feel the edge of hysteria lurking close by.
" I took the money." In a low voice I barely heard him.
"What?"I was still thinking of that guy's wallet." When? You didn't have time."
I pulled up to a red light, but kept twitching for the gas, wanting to scream out of there and maybe leave the state.
"No. I mean, I took the money. You know, for "That Guy"." He was looking down at his hands, I suppressed the urge to smack him. "I didn't think he would send someone like "This Guy". He just a little prick."
"How much?"
"About a half mil." I was quiet for a while and finally he looked up at me, but by then I was smiling. I turned back onto the road, slouched down a little more comfortably in the seat.
"Cool."
"This Guy" was supposedly pretty heavy, not in the weight sense, purely on reputation alone. He had a knife fetish and the people who'd seen him do his work weren't talking. We were there pretty early and "My friend" was twitching a little. He kept telling me how glad he was I was there which scared me a little. Somehow I'd earned a reputation too, but I didn't think a few fistfights earned as much respect as he was giving. Still I figured for the time being it wouldn't hurt. If "This Guy", who didn't know me, thought I might be something tougher I'd let him think that. I couldn't let him touch "My Friend", at least not if I was alive to stop it.
The only things I had going for me was my desperation, and the two colt pistols I had picked up at a pawn shop the day before. I spent all night cleaning and oiling and working those two guns. I test fired into a metal trash-can stuffed with blankets in my basement, so I knew they worked. Then I cleaned them and oiled them again, just to kill time. I couldn't sleep.
As the meet time got closer I gave "My Friend" the revolver, took off the safety for him so he wouldn't get nervous and forget. I tucked the other into my belt, flipping my shirt over it to hide it. I practiced getting it out a few time to make sure it wouldn't snag on anything. I really didn't like the feel of the gun against my stomach, I kept getting visions of my own guts spilling over my belt or a smoky bleeding hole in my leg.
When I was still a teenager I had collected knives, of all shapes and sizes, I never did anything with them, just kept them in a big box in my closet. To this day my family still gets me exotic or strange looking knives they find, usually in flea markets. I had a chrome handled butterfly knife in my toolbox so I got that out, a plan beginning to take shape. I didn't have a lot of hope it was going to work, but what else could I do?
"This Guy" walked onto the scene as casually as if he were picking up kids from tee-ball. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt and slacks under a loose fitting sports coat.
"Hi!" he said all cheerful and gave a little wave. He stopped a few paces from where I'd set myself. Two to three paces in front of Randy, and a little off to the side so I wasn't in "My Friend's" line of fire.
"I don't see any suitcase. Where's the money?" he had a high voice, a bit of an accent but I couldn't place it, maybe Italian, maybe Russian.
"I told "That Guy", I don't have any money. I did the one deal I'm not doing another. He got paid from the last time didn't he?" "My Friend" sounded Scared, but he didn't run. "This Guy" shook his head,slowly. His voice got cold, almost a hiss.
"I don't understand. You were supposed to have the money. In a case. For me." He edged forward a step, while he spoke, then another. I dropped one side of the butterfly knife so it swung open, and just left the blade and one handle hanging down. It was real discrete, didn't make a sound but the flash of the chrome caught his eye like I hoped it would.
"Don't creep up on me." I forced my voice to be low, threatening. His eyebrows raised slightly but he leaned back a bit. He moved his hand a little just enough to catch my eye and I saw he was holding a knife to, only his was not showy at all. The handle looked like smoky gray marble and the blade was all brushed steel, it barely seemed to catch the light. I tried not to swallow, he'd probably been holding it all along. Now I was sure "My Friend" and I were dead, he hadn't come just for money, his eyes were too cold.
"Alright," I said, raising my hand slowly letting the knife swing closed. "I've got the case up in my car here." I nodded back the way he'd come. I just needed him to be distracted for a second, then I was going to pull the colt semi from my pants and just start firing. I swear he was reading my mind, his lips twitched in what I had to assume was a smile and waved me on to lead the way.
"No way man." I said. "You start walking and we'll follow you." my legs were pillars of adrenaline jelly and I was almost too scared to try to walk, he must have seen my fear because he turned and started walking. "This Guy" probably figured I was too terrified of him to try anything, maybe he even thought we were really gonna pay him. He might have thought I only had the knife since I flashed it at him on purpose, but as soon as he turned away I pulled the pistol out and shot him right between the shoulder blades.
I was really close to him, I swear I felt the smoke and wind from the shot bounce off his back and brush past my hair. He flew forward a few feet landing half twisted around some scrub trees. I made myself walk up to him, he was lying down but he didn't seem dead. His body was moving a bit, his feet rubbing together lightly, his jaw working a little but only saliva came out. I didn't smell anything that could be his bowels releasing so I pointed at his head and looked away as I shot him in the head.
At least I meant to. Looking away must only work in movies, I missed shaving off a large part of his face. The bullet hit right under his sinus, there was a splintered mass of bone sticking out where his cheekbone used to be and I could see up under his eye the muscles twitching as his eyeball moved, his entire lower eyelid was gone as well as the whole side of his nose. He was making a groaning noise which was freaking me out.
I heard "My Friend" retch behind me, so he must have looked, but I smacked myself in the leg hard with the gun and clenched my teeth forcing the vomit down. This time I aimed carefully and put one bullet right behind his ear and another right behind his temple. There was a loud buzzing noise in my head that almost matched the gunshots. Everything looked a little fishbowled, blackening around the edges. I realized I wasn't breathing, but as soon as I sucked in a deep breath I almost fell over vomiting. The smell of the gunpowder and a rusty iron smell thickened in my throat. "My Friend" grabbed my arm and pulled me away from "This Guy's" corpse and we sort of shuffled, ran out of the trees.
It was pretty early morning and I didn't notice anyone standing around staring at us, but I could feel hundreds of eyes staring at me. My ears were still ringing from the shots and we tried to stay cool as I drove off. I tried to go slow but it was hard, we were both pretty adrenaline racked, and not thinking clearly. "My Friend" still had the revolver in his hand, at least he pulled it out to cover me I thought. I pointed at it
"Put that shit away man." He looked around wildly for a second, then caught on and shoved the pistol into his coat pocket.
"Is the safety on?" I felt I was shouting over the ringing in my ears, but he didn't say anything. He pulled the gun out again and carefully switched on the safety. He seemed calmer, focusing on something seemed to help calm him down.
He looked over at me, "Shit, you're all covered in blood." I flipped down the visor mirror and sure enough I was speckled like a painter but all over in red dots. He pulled an old t-shirt from the back seat and I tried to wipe up a little but it wasn't working while driving. I thought we should get a hotel room, one of the cheap prostitute rooms off the highway where we could clean up, but I didn't have any cash.
"You have any money? We could get a room and I could get all this blood washed off." He pulled out his wallet and started to check.
"Man, I should have taken his wallet, you know? We could have got some money out of this." I giggled a little, he looked at me worried but I reined it in. My whole body was still shaking like a leaf, and I could feel the edge of hysteria lurking close by.
" I took the money." In a low voice I barely heard him.
"What?"I was still thinking of that guy's wallet." When? You didn't have time."
I pulled up to a red light, but kept twitching for the gas, wanting to scream out of there and maybe leave the state.
"No. I mean, I took the money. You know, for "That Guy"." He was looking down at his hands, I suppressed the urge to smack him. "I didn't think he would send someone like "This Guy". He just a little prick."
"How much?"
"About a half mil." I was quiet for a while and finally he looked up at me, but by then I was smiling. I turned back onto the road, slouched down a little more comfortably in the seat.
"Cool."
posted by Goodkingalan | 11:04 AM
<< Home