A Shot Glass of Bullets Page 2
He looked at them quizzically as I replied, “Your choice.”
The kid nodded and sadly reached for the beer. I knew it was a mistake, but I watched in silence as
he guzzled down the drink, trying to drown his sorrows. The sad side of alcohol. He finished the beer and looked at me silently. I nodded towards the water. It didn’t matter what the kid was facing, I wasn’t going to have him die from alcohol poisoning. Grasping the plastic bottle, he chugged the water and handed the bottle back to me.
“Hey y’all, drinks on the house ton-“ My bartender barreled through the front door with a goofy grin on his face. Jimmy caught himself when he saw the customer. “Oh, sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t think anyone was here. Just kidding about the free drinks.”
Smiling, the kid rose to his feet and stumbled towards the bathroom for a second time. His pace was noticeably slower and more uneven. I’d hold off providing the next beer for a little while. I slid another water to the customer’s place.
Jimmy came over, a weird look on his face. “Sorry, Boss, I didn’t think anyone was in here. There aren’t any cars in the lot right now. Where’d he come from?”
“Hard to say. He’s running from something, though. I think he had to walk a ways to get here. Maybe all the way from the highway.”
Jimmy let out a low whistle beforerolling up the sleeves on his flannel shirt. It was the same shirt he always wore, along with jeans and cowboy boots. Jimmy was nothing if not predicable. That’s why I kept him around. The guy actually enjoyed working the dead shift and he showed up on time every night, snow or sleet be damned.
Jimmy asked, “Should I call the police?”
I had been weighing the question since the kid had arrived. On the one hand, he obviously needed protection. On the other hand, he might get skittish and run if the police showed up. At least this way I was able to control the situation. It took several seconds, but I finally replied, “Best not. The kid would’ve called for help if he wanted it.”
Jimmy shruggedand asked, “So you headed home, Boss?”
“You know what? I think I’ll stick around for a while. I like the customer. He seems to be a good kid.”
The customer walked back in at that instant and we shut up. Jimmy organized the liquor bottles while I stood around and polished glasses. The kid sipped on the water, lost in his own world. I wasn’t going to disturb him again. Give him some solace while it lasted. He was halfway through the beverage when the door opened.
Two thugs walked in, acting like they owned the place, acting like they owned my bar. That alone raised my hackles. The foremost guy was young and acted like it. He wore a leather jacket and enough gold chains to supply a pawn shop. His right hand was tucked in the back of his pants like he wanted to try a quick-draw. I silently marked him as Chains. He was a punk I could handle easily. His partner was different. The second thug was about my age and looked it. His bullet-shaped head was covered in closely-shaved, black hair. His eyes were cold and dead; I knew they’d seen a lifetime of pain and suffering. Likely most of the pain had come at his hands and his helpless victims had been the ones suffering. This one was Old-school. I’d seen plenty of his type in Vegas. Anyone saying that organized crime is on its last legs should just visit that city sometime.
Chains smiled viciously at the kid like a wolf who had spotted his prey. “Brett! We thought we’d lost you in the last town over!”
The kid stood up defiantly. “You mean after you riddled my car full of bullet holes?”
“Hey, we were just trying to make sure you couldn’t leave without us. So, you ready to hitch a ride or you want to settle everything here?”
The kid shrugged indifferently. “I’ll come with you guys.”
“No.” All heads whipped at the sound of my voice. I smiled grimly and continued, “I think the kid will just stay here.”
Old-school looked me up and down. He was deciding whether or not he could take me. I couldn’t tell what conclusion he reached. His voice was deep and gritty. “You sure you want that? You don’t know what he’s done.”
I turned to the kid. “You a murderer?”
He shot a quizzical look at me before replying. “No.”
“You a rapist?”
“No.”
“You a child molester?”
“No.”
I turned back to Old-school. “Then I reckon he’s fine right where he is. He may not be perfect, but he isn’t all bad.”
Chains pulled his pistol out and held it by his side, tapping it against his thigh. Old-school looked at him and waived the gun away, but Chains wasn’t having it. The thug turned back to me. “He’ll pull the trigger.”
“His play.”
Old-schoolstared at me, this time displaying a brief show of surprise. He resolutely said, “We’re going to leave with Brett.”
The guy gave me chills. My instincts were never far off. He definitely knew where a few unmarked graves were. I replied, “We’ll see.”
Chains glanced at us, confused. He seemed like the type that had gone through life often confused. “What are you talking about? You aren’t going to stop us; you ain’t nothing!”
Old-schoolsmirked as he talked about me. “This guy was something. I’m just not sure that he’s up to the challenge anymore.”
His body shaking with fury, Chains snapped at the kid. I figured he was either on steroids or amphetamines. He said, “You coming with us or not?”
I leaned forward on the bar, my hands spread wide apart. “He’s not.”
Chains snapped and started to swing his gun for me. He was quick, but he was also dead. It was his lack of knowledge that killed him. He didn’t know that I always carry a handgun and I shoot targets at least once a week. My hand moved instinctively, grabbing my hidden gun and swinging it level in a blur of speed. I fired twice as he leveled his gun, my pistol bucking gently in my hands. The bulletscaught him in the square in the forehead and the chest. Chains slumped to the ground, a look of bewilderment eternally frozen on his face. A bullet flew past my head and smacked into the liquor bottles behind me. Glass falling on my shoulders, I swung my handgun to Old-school. A second shot grazed my shoulder. I fired four times in quick rhythm. All four of my shots found his torso. Old-school’s last shot drilled into the floor, fired far too late to make a difference.
The thug collapsed on his side and began coughing up blood. Staring at me, he weakly said, “You could’ve stayed out of it.”
I shook my head slowly, gun still in hand. “But I couldn’t, though. I left Vegas knowing I had let far too many vile deeds go unreported and unpunished. I moved back here to get away from it. You guys were going to whack the kid, clear as day. I couldn’t let it happen. Not anymore.”
He started to reply but went still before he could utter the words. Jimmy and the kidstared in horror at the corpses. The kid’s face was ashen and it looked like he was going to puke. Finally he wretched his gaze away from the bloody scene and turned towards me.
“You don’t even know what I did.”
“That’s true, but it almost certainly didn’t deserve death. Your blood would have been on my hands as well if I had let it come to pass.”
“You don’t even care what I did?”
I hesitated. “Kid, I’d like to think I just saved the life of a saint. It would be very depressing to find out I’d just stuck out my neck for a bad criminal.”
He slowly pulled up his briefcase and set it on the counter. “This sucker contained the bank accounts and passwords to about five hundred people. It was my first time working with the crew. We hacked some charity with weak online protections. We could have used the info to steal hundreds of thousands or maybe millions of dollars. I…I had second thoughts and took the data with me.”
“What do you mean the briefcase containedthe information?”
The kid smiled wearily. “I burned them in your bathroom and flushed the remains down the toilet.”
“Okay, but why not destroy the documents sooner?”
“I guess I thought I could hide the stuff and use it as a bargaining chip when they caught up with me. I never got a chance, though. They were always right on my tail.Then they shot up my car and left me in this small town with no taxis and no escape. I finally destroyed them when I knew I couldn’t get away or hide the documents.”
Jimmy noted, “You could’ve hidden it on your walk over here.”
“In a random field in the middle of the night? It would have been pointless.”
“You still could’ve gone to the cops.”
His face flushed, the kid replied, “That would require me to discuss my role in the affair. My initial goal was to escape and avoid any jail time. I’d rather not get shanked by some prisoner paid by my past employer.”
I nodded slowly, carefully thinking about my next move. “I guess you’d better head out before the cops show up, then.”
Jimmy and the kid in unison said, “Head out?”
“Hey, I’m not obligated to do a citizen’s arrest. Just leave the briefcase on the counter and walk away. Simple as that.”
The kid hesitated, not sure if I was pulling something.