“Some things just have to be.” Tony
raised the gun.
Nick turned back to face Tony. With the
pistol now aimed at his forehead, he threw his head back. It slammed against
the wooden crate. “Ah, shit that hurts.”
“Not for long, partner.”
“Tony, we can talk this out.”
“Not this time.”
“No, wait, Tony please,” he begged.
Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead and now it started to trickle down his
nose and cheeks. “I’ve got cash at my crib. Been saving your share.”
“Like Hell … Ever play Russian
Roulette, Nick?”
“No, don’t do this,” Nick continued to
plead. His eyes were trained on the gun yet he shook his head slowly.
Tony could see recognition play out on
his face. He had seen this game before. Tony always won. “How many slugs in
here?”
“Hell if I know.”
“Surely you wouldn’t leave home without
a full load. Feels like a full load. What do you think?”
“Tony don’t.”
“Tell you what, I’ll just spin the
wheel of fortune and if the hammer happens to falls on an empty chamber, you
just take a swim …”
“I can’t swim with my hands tied and
this damn chain on my feet.”
“… and if the hammer falls on a bullet,
then consider yourself tapped.”
“No, please Tony, don’t! I’ll make it
up to you.”
Tony grabbed Nick by the front of his
shirt and yanked him over to the edge of the dock. He pushed Nick backwards
until his upper body was suspended above the water and planted his knee across
Nick’s hips to immobilize him. Nick’s body trembled beneath him like a
terrified rabbit waiting for a wolf to sink his fangs in.
“Would hate to spatter this damn fine
dock with your worthless brain cells,” Tony scoffed.
“For God’s sake Tone, don’t do this.”
Each syllable hissed between his lips as if a hurricane was being forced
through a keyhole.
“You’re not in God’s hands now,” Tony
said. His eyes widened and he flashed a threatening grin. “You’re in mine.”
Tony rested the muzzle on the moist flesh
between Nick’s brows and paused. A familiar expansion surged behind his eyes
frantic to vent. He knew the feeling well and savored the emergent pressure.
For the moment it obscured the sounds of motorboats on the river and the slap
of waves against the pilings.
“If you’re gonna do it, do it!” Nick
shouted. His voice quavered. “What you waiting for, damn it?”
Tony’s mind snapped back and he took
satisfaction as he watched Nick’s pupils shrink in an expanding sea of
bloodshot sclera.
“The whites of your eyes, partner,”
Tony said and pulled the pistol’s hammer back into a cocked position.
Now, as the car made its way up
the grade of Conway Summit, just a mile from the top, the engine began to pop,
clunk, and hiss.
“Shit!” Tony hit the steering
wheel with the heel of his hand and punctuated each syllable. “Piece-a-shit.”
He ground the remains of a cigarette into the ashtray. Butts overflowed onto
the floor.
Hank looked up from the side
window that had been his pillow for several hours and rubbed his eyes. “What’s
up?”
“Overheatin’.”
Tony made a quick inventory of
the traffic around them. There were too many vehicles on the road to his
liking. He feared his vulnerability if they stopped, but he had no choice. If
he pushed the car to the top of the pass, the engine might seize and that would
put an end of their joy ride or at least add an unnecessary complication. He
maneuvered the car to the side of the highway.
Steam off the engine swallowed
the sedan when he turned the ignition off. It temporarily blinded him in a bank
of white fog. Before it cleared, Tony stepped out of the car and raised the
hood. The engine pulsed with heavy thunks as the boiling water searched for a
way to escape. Some of it flowed out through the overflow tube next to the radiator
and a steaming stream coursed its way under the car.
“What do we do now, boss?” Hank
said as he joined Tony at the front of the Impala.
“Wait,” Tony said and looked to
see if water escaped from anywhere else. Satisfied no other leaks threatened,
he continued, “Can’t move now ‘til this rust bucket cools down.”
“If someone stops, we could jack
their car?”
“With all this traffic we’re too
exposed. Someone’ll see us and then we’re good as dead. We’ll just wait and
play it by ear.”
They left the hood open and
walked back along the passenger side. Tony pulled the .357 from his waistband,
opened the rear door, and bent into the opening. He glared at Rudy and aimed
the gun at the boy’s chest.
“Not a word,” Tony said.
“Someone stops and you give them any clue about what’s in the trunk, she’s
dead, then you. Got it?”
Rudy nodded.
“Get me the damn keys.” Tony
whipped the pistol toward the driver’s seat.
Rudy hesitated for a second and
returned Tony a “drop dead” glare with a scowl of his own. Then he leaned
forward, reached over the front seat, and removed the keys from the ignition.
With the keys in hand, Tony
tucked the pistol into his belt. He didn’t know what he would face at the trunk
so before he stepped behind the car, he said to Hank. “Get back inside.”
_____
©
Jearl Rugh 2012
All
Rights Reserved
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