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Cindy
couldn’t suppress a small scream of joy.
“Our
guests have arrived, Mr. Ryan.” She swung around, eyes flashing in triumph.
“Didn’t I tell you there was a way around that odious Melancowski woman?”
Ryan
winced and lowered himself into a chair.
“'Twas
pure serendipity she was injured, Ma’am,” he said, his voice sour. The boy
passed out too quickly and couldn’t be revived, and he blasted Henri for that.
“You, boy,” he snapped at a butler, “Tell that baboon of a chauffeur to
disposed of the unfortunate in my pleasure room.”
The
reed slender man gave a dignified nod, turning back at a rise of the old man’s
voice.
“And
James, ye need not tell that baboon just whom our new guests shall be. D' ye
hear me, nigger?”
“Yes-sir.
Quite, sir.”
Nibbling
teeth of fire seeped along his nerves. Carl shuddered and fought the control
until his eyes rolled up in his head.
Behind
him, Benny sat stiff and terrified. The tiny chip planted on his cerebral cortex
demanded he remain docile. He took a puff on the shag. The effort brought sweat
to his face before he was able to command his muscles to do even that.
“Y'
know,” she drawled, “I got a pile of money comin’ from this.” Sheila
giggled and caressed the glowering stud on the remote. Her eyes sneered at Carl.
“With this, I can make you do any dammed thing I want, can’t I?” She
reached into Carl’s groin.
Sheila
undid the buttons of Carl’s fly.
“Do
it.”
She
smiled and was instantly rewarded with a frenzied swelling and a massive heat
under her hand.
Her
head went down, and down, and down. Carl sat, unmoved by the act. He waited,
staring at the wind shield and winced as her teeth grazed him from time to time.
“Now,”
she whispered. Carl obediently threw back his head.
Sheila
groaned, then opened the door and spat several times. Taking out a self-lighting
compact, she fixed her make-up and glanced coyly at Benny.
“Better
not,” Benny said coolly. “You know what they want from me?”
“Do
I?” Sheila cried and snickered. “Maybe I’ll buy some time from your bosses
tonight. You as good as they told me?” She eyed him, speculating.
“Better.”
Then,
with bitter cold disdain, he laughed and said, “You couldn’t afford me.”
She
hissed and tapped the stud. Benny choked and gasp. He tore at the place a collar
would be only a few minutes from now. The cigarette tumbled to the floor,
shattering in a burst of sparks. Benny clawed at his throat, gouging bloody
marks on his neck. The jeep swayed as Benny struggled to breathe, fighting
against the strangling hold and shock of the conditioning. His eyes and mouth
gaped in a silent shriek.
“Maybe
you ain’t worth it.” Shi’ snarled and released the stud.
“Sheila,”
Carl pleaded. “Let’s go . . . they’ll only keep you-”
“Liar,”
she hissed, and swung the remote at the massive gates.
Like
the blackened jaws of Hell, they rumbled open.
With
a grinding jerk, the car rolled through.
Henri
knelt beside the still quivering remains of what had once been a living,
breathing man. Maybe not much of a man, but still a man.
Taking
out his knife, Henri flicked it open and found where the heart still beat. A
ragged thread of a whisper hissed.
“Jesus,
please, Mr. Henri . . . .”
“He’s
here, son,” Henri said softly. “Time for you to be going Home now.” A tear
glistened on one of the boy’s sunken cheeks. “Time for you to go and see
your real daddy, now.”
The
eyes opened on his. Henri closed them and thrust home, sinking the blade up to
the hilt.
What
little blood that remained welled out in a slow river. With a faint sigh the
spirit eased from the body.
“O:tsi:Yu,
kid.”
Smear
opened his eyes and looked up at the tallest man he had ever seen. His mouth
gaped open and he would have screamed but he felt Henri’s tears on his chest.
The
massive spirit held out one battle scarred hand. He grinned at the awe in the
boy’s features.
“Come
on, kid. Let’s go home.”
Hissing,
chittering tormenters slipped tendrils up and through the body in Henri’s
shaking arms. They engulfed the empty husk and snarled in frustration.
In
a room several floors above Ryan raised his glass and smile at the woman.
“May
y' be in heaven a good half hour before the devil knows your dead.”
Trying
to crush the sorrow Henri swiftly dismembered the corpse. That done, he turned
on the machine that ground Daisy’s only food and began tossing in the parts.
Picking up the head, Henri was shocked to see it had a smile on it.
He
blew his nose and smiled back.
Lights
and sirens screamed up behind them. Cruisers plowed through Ryan’s gates,
surrounding the jeep.
Wagon
train surrounding the injuns. Benny’s mind clicked in stunned amazement.
The
doors were jerked open. A light flashed at Benny, stabbed him in the eyes.
“Benjamin
Wya Grey?”
Dazed,
Benny could only nod. His throat worked, but his mouth was too dry to do more
than croak, “Yeah?”
“Step
out please.”
Benny
shoved his way past the woman. He was grabbed by rough hands, shoved against the
jeep and patted down. His arms were yanked back hard and the cuffs snapped on. A
goon who’s breath smelled like every polish sausage sandwich he had ever eaten
muttered his rights in his ear.
Benny
grinned from ear to ear at the arresting officer.
“What
are you smilin' at, punk?” Lips curling in disgust, the man snarled and shook
his head. “I got you down for a possible attempted kidnapping, for
stealin fishin' tackle, slashed tires, and beating up a couple of kids
from Mountain Top with some gang of yours. And
being in the same vehicle as two known pro's. You figger it all out yet, kid?”
Growing angry, the man rasp deep in his throat. “Wanna ‘fess up? You turn
states evidence and I bet the judge would go easy on ya’-”
“No.”
Sheila clawed at the officer who dragged her from the jeep. “My money-”
Ripping out of his hands, she pounced and smashed the policeman to the road.
Sheila took Benny by the hair, trying to get onto the grounds of Ryan’s
estate.
Once
inside they’d be safe. She’d be rich. Yeah. Like Cancun rich. Sheila grinned
and panted, dragging Benny through the gates. No bull was going to dare to nail
her here. Sheila heard a small whisper of sound and turned to open her mouth to
scream.
A
sharp, tiny giggle sounded from the shadows and a very small, leather dressed
woman crept out. She raised a knife of ground crystal and stabbed Sheila in her
Achilles’ tendon. The tiny woman leaped away and winked at an astounded Benny.
Sheila screamed and bounced over Benny in a panicked effort to escape the woman
and landed in the arms of the police.
Benny
gaped at the tsi:ge:O. She giggled and
plucked at the shapeless dress she wore and gave him a small curtsy. Chuckling,
he pulled out the pack of tobacco and dropped it. A cop sprang at him and jerked
Benny through the gates.
With
a shrill cry of joy, the woman leaped on the half ounce of tobacco and wrestled
it into the shrubbery.
Jolted
back by Shi’s sudden change of heart and her scream, the troopers stared at
her for a moment. At the woman’s collapse, the one Sheila hit leaped up and
back-handed her.
“I’m
gonna enjoy this.” He smiled grimly and growled a deep, primal desire. Those
high pointed breasts and hot bottom had been driving him wild. He couldn’t
wait to take her in and use her. He wanted her now, needed her now, here. “You
dudes know she resisted arrest, right? And I got to search her, but good.” He
snarled a grin at Sheila, and fell on her, his mouth closing on hers. She’s
teeth sank into his lips. He yelped and twisted her around, snapping on a pair
of cuffs. Hands stroked the tight jeans she wore. He straddled her. Hips moving
in gentle thrusts, he rubbed his crotch over her bottom in lazy, hungry strokes.
When she quieted, he pulled her up and threw her in the back of the cruiser. He
smiled and loosened his pants, then joined her.
A
cop motioned for Carl to get out.
Carl
obliged, towering a good five inches over the man.
Touching
his side-arm, the cop glared at Carl.
“How
about you? You gonna resist?”
Carl
eagerly assumed the position. He leaned his head on the jeep and laughed. “Do
as you want, man. God,” Carl shook his head and rumbled another laugh, “If
you weren’t so dammed ugly, I’d kiss you.”
Taken
aback, the cop snapped, “Lay off that, Ivanovitch. I don’t do it with
whores, and not butt-punks, for sure.”
He
cuffed Carl and shied him at a cruiser.
Flushing,
the cop looked at the radiant joy in both men’s faces and shuddered right down
to his spit-polished shoes.
The
ever-composed Cindy took one look at the gate’s monitors and had to be
physically restrained.
Sergeant
Myers glared at the four standing too close to his desk. The Marine recruiter
held a piece of freshly signed paper in his hands. The kid’s mother must of
done it, or the man wouldn’t be here.
“Keep
a respectful tongue in yer head, Ivanovitch. We found twenty witnesses that all
claimed you weren’t involved with that riot, that McGuire started it. They
even had the tackle that the MT kids tossed when the trouble started.” He
glanced at a card board box full of highly expensive and totally ruined fishing
tackle. “Both of you, tho’,” he said in frustration, “should be locked
up, and would be, but –“
He
glared at the recruiter.
“Yo?”
Benny looked the sergeant square in the eye. “Is McGuire gonna be charged with
anything?”
The
sergeant’s eyes tightened.
“He
lied to you,” Benny shouted. “Made you guys do a false arrest. You -”
Anna
winced. “Cool it, Benny. You’re in deep enough now as it is.”
“Piss
on this,” Benny shouted and started over the desk at the cop.
She
nodded at Carl. Grimacing, Carl snatched the ragged collar of Benny’s jacket
and dragged him out of the state police station.
The
recruiter nodded politely at the sergeant and rolled the paper with Anna’s
signature on it into a tight tube and strolled
out.
The Grey kid meant a nice tidy extra in his next pay check.
“There
they are,” Cindy rasp. “Get him.”
Her
men piled out of the car. A reporter stopped harassing Benny long enough to
order his cameraman to get a shot of the infamous head of the Janissary Project.
Cindy shrank back and called to her men.
Benny
grinned at her and waved.
The
cars moved off, her screams rising above the roars of the engines.
©2002 StoriesByEmail.com
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