I stopped and dropped to one knee and took my shot.
I saw his hair lift a little, my shot was so close.
But I missed. I NEVER FUCKING MISSED. And I had missed.
My heart sunk.
Smoke Stack wheeled. And when he did, Brett jumped up, and with her hands against her back, she leaped at him, hit him with a body slam and knocked him spinning backwards, his gun flying from his hand. I dropped the .22 and started running toward him. Leonard was flying through the cattle guard then, bearing down on Smoke Stack.
Smoke Stack got up and out from under Brett who struggled to her feet and tried to jump at him again. But Smoke Stack dodged her like a quarterback on the run and leapt into the Ultra-light. I heard the motor start up and a moment later the machine was bouncing over the field. I was running on a collision course with Leonard. He slammed on the brakes and I slid over the hood and jumped in on the other side.
“Go,” I said.
The Ultra-light was gaining some speed. Its bounces were becoming higher. In a moment it would hop and then leap to the sky.
But the motor on that thing wasn’t a match for a car. We were closing. As we passed Brett, who had struggled to her feet, she looked at me.
I waved.
The car bounced along until it was almost even with the Ultra-light. I hung myself out of the open window, eased out until I was sitting on the edge of it with my legs dangling, my arms inside, keeping me lodged. And then I eased an arm out.
“Closer,” I said.
Leonard did that. I cocked one foot up until it was on the window support, and I shoved off just as the Ultra-light was making its big jump.
I hit the wing of the Ultra-light, scrambling for a grip, and my weight nodded it toward the ground. The wing hit. The propeller gnawed at the pasture. There was a sudden whirl as the sky came down and then went up again, followed by a close look at, and a hard impact with, the ground.
I heard a noise like someone dragging a rake through gravel. It was the Ultra-light spinning in circles like a confused idiot. The money had come loose of the bag and some of it was spinning in the air and some had been caught in the propeller and chopped up. It looked like the last hurrah of a parade, the last bits of confetti thrown.
On my feet, I saw Smoke Stack coming toward me. He was so angry he was actually foaming at the mouth. His face was scratched up.
“Now you get your shot, buddy,” I said.
“I’ll fucking kill you.”
He was like a locomotive. It wasn’t like that night in his house. He was crazed with anger and maybe he had been on drugs, or most likely had just underestimated me. That happens a lot. But he was dead serious now.
I dodged his rush and kicked out. I was trying to hit him in the solar plexus, but he instinctively crunched his body, and took the shot on his upraised forearms. The impact, the disorientation of the crash, had me off a bit, so the impact of hitting him like that knocked me down. He leaped on me like a big frog.
I heard Leonard slam the car door and start over. But me and Smoke Stack were into it. I spread my legs and got him between them. He tried to hit me. I put up my arms. I was deflecting most of the blows, but I was taking some of it. Finally I cupped one of his arms at the elbow and swung a leg to the side of his neck. I was trying to pull him into a triangle choke, but the angle wasn’t right. He pushed my leg back so that it was being mashed across my face. It was damn uncomfortable. I used my other leg to kick at his hip, knocking him back a bit, loosening him. It allowed me to swing my leg free. I poked him in the eyes with my fingers, and when he went back and put a hand to his face, I rolled out from under him.
Now I was on my feet, where I preferred to be. I saw Leonard leaning against the car, the shotgun lying on the fender.
“You got him,” Leonard said.
Smoke Stack came in swinging. I ducked him and came up with an upper cut that knocked him back. I kicked him in the nuts then, but he was too high on adrenaline for it to matter. He came swinging again. I glanced the blows off my forearms and got inside and grabbed his head and kneed him inside of the leg. Adrenaline wasn’t enough to stop that pain.
His leg went out from under him. I swung a downward right cross, and back he went. He rolled onto his hands and knees and scuttled and finally got to his feet. He put a hand to his pocket, and when he brought it out, he had a knife.
He crouched, eased toward me. There was a sound like a cannon going off and Smoke Stack’s head disappeared in a blur of red and gray and flying white fragments. Within a blink of an eye, what was left of him was lying on the ground.
I looked at Leonard. He was lowering the shotgun.
“You proved your point, and you got your licks in,” he said. “But that knife, that could have been
a problem.”
WE FOUND THAT Brett and Kelly’s hands were bound with plastic cuffs. We cut those off. I said to Brett, “You all right, baby?”
“Yeah,” Brett said. “I’m fine. All they did was get an unauthorized look at my nubile body. A look like they got, I should have been paid money.”
I grinned at her and we kissed.
I walked back and got the .22. The shell casing was still in it.
We packed up and drove out of there in Leonard’s car, left the money and the bodies.
IT WAS A few weeks later.
A tip had led the police to the bodies in the field. Way it looked was there had been a problem between thieves. Smoke Stack had shot his partner and tried to escape, but crashed. Someone had blown his head off. They took this to be another partner. They were glad to get most of the money back. I don’t know about the shredded stuff. I envisioned some bank clerk gluing the pieces back together like an archeologist reuniting shards of pottery. It was a silly thought, but it hung in my head.
The other partner, of course, wouldn’t be found. Neither would the .22 that killed the two would-be robbers in the bank lot. The cops had an idea that one of the partners went rogue, first with a .22, then a shotgun. It was a silly theory, but thank goodness they liked that story and were sticking to it. They’re not dumb, just arrogant.
It was a nice afternoon with a clear sky and a light wind. We were in the backyard grilling burgers, me and Brett and Leonard. The doorbell rang. That would be our guests.
I went through the house and let Marvin and Kelly and Donny in, walked them out back.
Leonard was flipping the burgers.
We greeted each other, talked.
Donny said, “I haven’t said nothing, and I never will.”
“I believe you,” I said.
“I wouldn’t want you mad at me,” Donny said.
“That’s good thinking,” Leonard said.
“But I wouldn’t say anyway. I…I can’t thank you guys enough. You hadn’t done what you did, I’d be dead.”
“Absolutely,” Leonard said.
“Thanks again for saving my little brother,” Kelly said, “and thanks for passing on the payment I owed you guys. I can use the dough.”
“Man,” Leonard said. “You’re the hero. You put yourself on the line. Changed your life, got your ass whipped by me, and thoroughly, I might add, and then you didn’t even have any protection from those guys and still you went to work.”
“You warned me,” Kelly said. “You told me not to stay on the job.”
“Yep,” Leonard said. “We did.”
“And, I sort of squealed when they put those cigarettes on me. I thought I could take it. I was sure I could. One burn and I was already starting to loosen my tongue.”
“It hurts,” Leonard said. “You’re not a professional tough guy. We don’t begrudge you trying to make the pain stop. Besides, in the long run it worked out.”