Ever Onward (58 page)

“Don’t do it, man,” Leo croaked.
“Please --- don’t do it.”

Now it was Hairy’s turn to grin. The
title of Mage’s favorite Country & Western song rang in his
ears. ‘Here’s a quarter, call someone who cares.’ Hairy pulled the
trigger and the Colt bucked in his hand. The sound of the .45
exploded in the room. A nano-second later Leo’s brains exploded out
the back of his head.

What happened next happen fast. Leo’s
body did a little jig, then flopped over onto the table where the
red-necks and whores were sitting. Both whores began to scream. The
Douche-bag Tabernacle Choir at its peek. One of the men at the
table jumped up swearing and went for his gun. Mistaking him for an
irate heckler, Hairy squeezed off two more rounds. One passed
through the far window, the other passed through the second whore’s
left tit. The red-neck swore and raised his gun.

Rat, unwilling to be upstaged by a
has-been comic, swung the riot gun around and blew the red-neck
away. At such close range, the double-ought steel pellets punched a
whole in the man’s chest big enough to put a fist through. Rat then
turned his undivided attention on Harry. Rat’s second blast ripped
Harry’s face off. As though on cue, everyone else jumped into the
one act farce. Half the soldiers opened up on Hairy, the other half
turned their attention to the rest of the room. What was left of
Hairy slid behind the bar. The soldier covering Big Glen stitched a
pattern across the bouncer’s chest and went right on into the
remaining red-necks.

Josh and Flame had both vanished
behind the bar; one at each end with Harry’s faceless corpse
bleeding between them. Cobb stood in a far corner, his Defender
pump appearing from beneath his long coat. When the shit hit the
fan, Josh’s group had the killing ground triangulated, a little
tidbit Cobb had drilled into them over and over.

‘Catch your enemy in a three-way
crossfire and you’ll soon have no enemy left.’

They did just that. For fifteen
seconds the room became a living hell. Repeated gunfire drowned out
the screams of the dying. Josh fired from one end of the bar, Flame
from the other. Cobb emptied first his Defender and then his
Beretta at anything with a weapon. A Coleman lamp was hit and sent
tongues of flame along the floor. Grotesque shadows danced off the
walls. Someone dove through the front window. Clouds of acidic
gunpowder hung in the air. Then, as suddenly as it began, it was
over.

In the eerie silence that followed,
eyes watered and ears rang. Then a woman’s scream was heard, cut
off by a loud smack. A high pitched voice called out; Rat’s voice.
“I got a woman here! Make a move and I’ll blow her fucking head
off!”

Josh took the time to put a fresh clip
into his Baretta. At the other end of the bar he saw Flame shoving
police speed loads into her S & W. The long barrel was leaking
smoke. She snapped the chamber shut and shrugged. “It’s your play,
Lover.”

Josh drew a deep breath, the cordite
stinging his lungs. “What do you want?”

From the shadows Rat giggled. “It aint
what I want, shithead, it’s what The Man wants. King Fucking Jocco
himself. He’s looking for a bunch of real heavy fucking dudes in a
red van. Just like the one parked outside this
shithole.”

Josh’s stomach turned as he thought of
Jessie and Gill outside in the Westfalia. “Oh,” he managed. “Why’s
that?”

Rat’s voice took on a condescending
tone. “You mean besides the fact that you just offed a half dozen
of Jocco’s men?”

“Ya,” Josh replied. “Besides
that.”

The woman screamed again. “Don’t fuck
with me, man, or I’ll do her right now!” Rat’s voice had climbed an
octave.

Josh sighed. “Get to the bottom line,
Asshole. I’m losing interest.”

Rat giggled. “The ‘bottom line,
Asshole’ is that King Jocco the fucking First has a Grade-A hard-on
for you and the red-headed cunt. What I got is my piece shoved in
Goldylock’s ear. What I also got is the rest of my men babysitting
the two boys you left outside in that red shitmobile.” Rat giggle
again. “What you got is three fucking seconds to toss in the
towel.”

“Don’t do it, Josh,” Cobb warned from
the shadows. “The little prick’s full of shit!”

As an answer, Rat yelled out a name.
“Simms! You out there?!”

“Ya, Rat,” a voice answered through
the closed door. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?”

“You still got those two
kids?”

“Sure,” Simms yelled back. “The white
kid gave us some trouble when the shooting started, but the breed’s
a pussy.”

Mage moaned as Rat yanked her hair.
“Hear that, Tough Guy? Still feeling like being the big
hero?”

“Let’s take him, Lover,” Flame hissed.
“He’ll kill us anyway. Jessie too!”

Josh looked into her emerald eyes. For
the first time since he’d met her he didn’t see his dead wife
reflected in them. Slowly, sadly, he shook his head --- then tossed
his Beretta up on the bar.

“Ah, shit,” Flame whispered, looking
at the heavy killing thing clutched in her hand. For a brief moment
she thought of doing it anyway, of stepping out and blasting the
little shit. ‘Fuck the woman! She’s nothing to me. Maybe we can
save Jess and...’

But deep inside she knew it was over.
Josh would lead them through hell and back, take on any obstacle
--- but now the price was just too high. He was here because of the
death of one man’s son; she knew he’d do anything to save his
own.

She placed her gun on the floor and
reached out to take Josh’s hand. Their eyes locked for a moment,
shared unspoken thoughts, then, still hand in hand, they slowly
stood up.

Rat’s giggle filled the
room.

Chapter 46
: ‘A SPORTING
PROPOSITION’

Jocco’s Temple

Bakersfield,

California May
24
^th

Rays from the setting sun poured like
golden honey through the stained glassed windows, illuminating the
unholy seen below. Four men and one woman, stripped to their
underclothes, hung suspended from the heavy beams, slowly twirling
in the liquid light.

The five were not the only people in
the room. Two soldiers guarded the door. Several more stood with
Scar. A nervous Bobby-Joe Burlis fidgeted beside an even more
nervous Walter Pinkton. Pam Gliss sat on a desk toying with a
strange looking knife. All eyes but Scar’s were on the man behind
the desk. Jocco, dressed in army fatigues with three silver stars
on his collar and a gold circlet holding back his long hair, sat
watching the swaying bodies. Pussbag squatted in the shadows like a
waiting hound.

Suddenly Jocco stood, strode over to
one of the suspended forms and struck it hard with a silver topped
swagger stick. Pleasure registered on his cruel face.

Pain lanced through Josh’s body,
filling his joints and seeking out the distant corners of his mind.
Defying the pain, he opened his eyes.

“
So, you are awake,”
crooned the velvet voice. “I thought as much. Quite rude of you to
drop off like that, especially since we were having such as
interesting conversation.”

Pussbag chuckled from the shadows.
Jocco glanced his way and the chuckling ceased. “Now,” Jocco said,
“let’s get to the point, shall we?”

“Eat shit,” Josh croaked though
parched and bleeding lips. His right eye was nearly swollen shut
and something wet and sticky trickled down his left cheek. The
swagger stick lifted his chin.

“Major Scar said you wouldn’t break.
At first I didn’t believe him. I still don’t.” Jocco looked back at
the tall, one-eyed man, then pressed the silver-studded stick,
causing Josh to twirl slowly. “It’s just a matter of finding the
right leverage. We’ve tried thirst, pain, hardship. None of those
work.” He glanced over at Cobb and met a pair of defiant eyes. “I
believe your friend there even enjoys pain.” The swagger stick
flicked out, striking Cobb in the face. The defiance only
intensified. Jocco smiled.

“So far I’ve spared the woman and the
two boys. I could, of course, let my good friend here have them.”
Jocco nodded and Pussbag edged closer. “Did you know that boys are
his specialty? He doesn’t much care for women, but then Lord Walter
would be glad to handle that. He’s quite creative when it comes to
the fairer sex.” Jocco’s cold eyes washed over Flame hanging at the
far end. “And there’s so much of her to work with.”

“Let them go, Jocco,” Josh said. “It’s
me you want.”

Jocco’s smile widened. “But why should
I? I already have you.”

“What do you want from me?!”, Josh
yelled. The effort clearly cost him.

Still smiling, Jocco leaned closer.
“What I want is to conclude that little arrangement we spoke of
earlier. A sporting proposition between two men of the
world.”

Josh’s mind was not working at its
peak. Three days without food, sleep or water, not to mention the
beatings, had left him more than a little under the weather. Still,
fragments of Jocco’s earlier conversation slowly surfaced.
Something about a race, a hunting lodge and a promise of freedom.
Josh didn’t believe a word of it --- still, what choice did he
have? He and the others were as good as dead already.

“Want to run it by me again,
Sport?”

Jocco shrugged. “Certainly. Major Scar
and several others wanted me to have you killed immediately. I
however, craved something more satisfying. Death is such a common
commodity these days.” Jocco motioned for Pam the Bitch to join
him. Gently he took the long, thin knife from her, testing the edge
with his thumb. “Yours, I believe? A Japanese Tanto. The tool of a
Samurai.” He pointed the blade in Jessie’s direction. The youth was
watching with the piercing eyes of a trapped hawk.

“Your son informed me that you are a
man of letters; that back before the world changed you used to be a
teacher. Literature and ancient history I believe he said. Oh, he
didn’t want to, but he did it to ease your pain.”

Josh looked at his son and tried to
smile. A single tear was working its way down Jessie’s
cheek.

“He also said you are something of an
outdoorsman. A climber of mountains who can quote Shakespeare and
recount ancient battles round the campfire.” Jocco’s vice took on a
condescending tone. “Your son is really quite proud of you. A
rarity in today’s wayward youth. He would, in fact, do anything to
save you. The foolish lad even offered to fight Major Scar if I
would let you go. Quite touching.”

“What-do-you-WANT?!” Josh had had
about all he was going to take from this little dictator. If he was
going to kill them, then get on with it!

Jocco’s eyebrows rose, the ice
returning to his voice. “Temper, professor. It doesn’t pay to piss
me off.”

“It doesn’t pay not to, either. Get to
the bloody point or fuck off!”

“You tell the little shit, Lover!”,
Flame hissed. “He’s just a little fuck who gets off on other
people’s pain!”

Still smiling, Jocco drew his
pearl-handled .45, swiveled around and fired. The echo peeled
across the large room like distant thunder. Despite himself, Josh
flinched. When he opened his eyes he saw Gill Sweetwater hanging
limply alongside Flame. Blood welled out of a massive chestwound in
Gill’s chest.

Jocco holstered his weapon and turned
back to Josh. “Consider that my first and final warning. Now, what
I’m proposing is this. Major Scar will take you and your silent
friend into the foothills west of here. You will be given a map, a
water bottle and a compass. You will make your way some twenty odd
miles to a hunting lodge marked on the map. I will be waiting for
you there, along with your woman and your son. Exactly one hour
after you are released, the good Major and his companions will
begin hunting you. If you both make it to the lodge alive, all four
of you will be set free. Any questions?”

Josh’s brain was racing. Blocking out
the sight of Gill’s body hanging in front of him, he willed himself
to think of the living. “How much time do we have to reach this
lodge?

“Three days, two nights. On the third
night I’ll kill the woman. The fourth dawn will be the last one
your son ever sees.”

“What if only one of us makes
it?”

Jocco grinned, pointing the Tanto at
Cobb. “He saves the girl, but your son dies. You, however, get to
choose.”

Josh wanted to scream. Instead he
asked: “How many will be hunting us?”

Jocco laughed. “Now, professor, that
would take away some of the excitement. Let’s just say that Major
Scar will not be alone.”

Josh frowned. “Why? I mean, is this
just for kicks or what?”

“Not at all,” Jocco said. “Oh, I admit
I’ll enjoy the sport, you might even see me from time to time
buzzing over you in my chopper, but I do have another
reason.”

Josh waited, knowing Jocco would
couldn’t pass up a chance to gloat. The wait was a short
one.

“It has come to my attention that one
of my trusted advisors might just not be so trustworthy after all.
Lord Walter, who you see standing behind me, has been accused by
one of my officers, Commander Burlis, of planning a coup. Lord
Walter, of course, fervently denies this; but then, I could hardly
expect him to do otherwise. The evidence is all hearsay and
innuendo. One man’s word against another sort of thing. This little
hunt will decide Lord Walter’s guilt or innocence.”