Freedy held the huge gun awkwardly, at first putting his finger on the the trigger, then -- feeling a little too tense -- keeping his finger away from the trigger, then nervously trying to estimate how fast he could put his finger on the trigger if he had to.
Charlie was scowling at Garland's reminder of his promise not to kill the three home invaders.
"I wasn't going to shoot them," he muttered, as if he'd been caught thinking about that very thing.
"Charlie, it wasn't our fault." Alex tried to sound proud while pleading. "They pressured us, Charlie. They said we could keep living on the mountain if we found you and they'd give us good jobs. Otherwise they'd throw us out."
"And I suppose the big fat reward on my head had nothing to do with it," Charlie said, his voice flat but wired like a steel thread.
Alex shook his head, but his two companions looked away in embarrassment.
The door to the deck opened and Billy stomped out and walked directly to Alex and without hesitation kicked the home-invader in the balls.
Alex dropped to the deck and rolled in pain. The other two invaders backed away, eyes wide, looking over the railing of the deck as if wondering if dropping twenty feet wasn't preferable to having their nuts compacted.
"After all we've done for you and your family," Charlie said. He raised a finger at Billy, to keep the young man from continuing his pummeling. "My granddaddy took in your granddaddy, and we've let you live here rent free ever since. All we asked for was your friendship..."
Alex rose to his knees, and the pain seemed to have knocked some honesty into him. "Friendship? We've been your slaves -- the Emmit family gofers and hand-holders and yes, sir, yes, ma'am, yes, Master..."
"If you didn't like it, you could've left."
"That's the thing, Charlie. Your nasty little strings, attached to everything. 'Here's free rent and a job, you poor benighted hillbillys.... but you can leave at any time.' I watched my dad kiss your dad's ass for years and swore I'd never do it."
"That's not fair, Alex. We used to be friends, we played together as kids."
"Is that what you think? You really think you always won those games fair and square?" Alex sneered and Freedy saw Charlie flinch. "I was never so glad as the day when they padlocked your doors and kicked your ass out of here. So to hell with you and to hell with your goldmine, Charlie. I don't really care."
Charlie stood pondering for a moment. "Well, good. Because as of now, you're on your own. I can't throw you off the land you've been living on -- I don't break the law. You can stay or leave -- but from now on you pay the rent."
He walked over to Alex and pulled him roughly to his feet. "Meanwhile, I want you off my property."
Charlie was a good six inches shorter than the other man, but he grabbed Alex by the waist and hoisted him over the rail. Alex's fingers held on for a couple of seconds with a scrabbling sound, then he disappeared from view.
Through the slats of the deck, Freedy saw and heard and -- with a visceral empathy, felt -- the miscreant hit the underbrush of the steep hill and roll flopping a few feet. Alex stumbled to his feet, which collapsed under him and he rolled a few more yards down the hill. Then with a loud moan, and a distinct limp, Alex tottered off into the darkness.
"Now..." Charlie said, sounding satisfied. He turned to Alex's brothers. "What are we to do with you two?"
All the rest of the miner crew was on the deck by now, even Bob, who looked a little woozy but was on his feet.
"Hey, Boss," Skinny Jay said. "Didn't you say we could do some target practice?"
"Why, now that you mention it..."
"But what should we shoot at?" Fat Jim joined in.
"I think something moving would be good..." Billy said, sounding murderous.
"Yeah, let's go hunting, boys!" Steve and Sam both shouted.
Charlie had turned his back on the two prisoners, now he turned around as if surprised to see them still there.
"I've decided to let you two fellows go," Charlie said. "Go! Scoot!"
The two men hesitated, then edged their way past the glowering miners and started running, out of the driveway and toward the road. About a hundred yards down, they veered into the heavy underbrush.
Charlie raised his voice, making sure they could hear his last words.
"The guns and ammunition are in the van, boys. Go get them."
1 comment:
Heh. Cool. :)
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