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Authors: Alton Gansky

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Judith noticed something else: the man reeked of booze.

“I don't suppose you guys have any beer?”

thirty-seven

W
here's my brother?” the man asked.

“That depends.” Luke tried to sit up but couldn't manage it. “Who's your brother?”

“Ernie. Ernie Braun. I'm Vince.”

Vince moved away from the door and Judith could see him better. Thin, mussed hair, stubbly chin, and a sheen of sweat covered him. He looked nothing like his brother. “Do you work for Pennington?”

“The guy with the Hummer? ” He laughed. “Yeah, I worked for him — for about thirty seconds. That's how long it took him to toss me out of the car. Can't blame him, though. I ain't nothing but a drunk. My brother gives me an opportunity to score some serious scratch and I blow it. I really need the money.”

Luke spoke. “Vince, as you can see, we have something in common. We're not real high on Pennington's list of favorite people.”

“Yeah, I can see that. I surely can. Looks like he busted you up pretty good. Did you get any licks in?”

Luke continued. “Nothing to brag about. Listen, Vince, birds of a feather flock together. Ever heard that?”

“Sure. I'm a drunk, not stupid.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean anything. I'm afraid I got my bell rung a few too many times today. I'm not thinking straight.”

“No problem. I've got a thick skin.”

“Here's my point: Pennington tossed you and he tossed us too. We have that in common. He stiffed you out of your money, right?”

“You got that right.”

“I can help you with that. What were you supposed to get paid?”

Judith stayed out of the conversation thinking Luke knew how to handle the man better than she.

“Two hundred solid for picking him up from the helicopter and driving him here, then following the bus.”

“Okay, here's the deal. You untie us and I'll pay you the two hundred.”

Vince studied Luke then Judith then his eyes fell on Luke's wallet resting on the floor. “That your wallet?”

Judith's hopes sank.

“Yeah, Vince, it is. You going to rob two battered and shackled people?”

“What better kind of people to rob.” Vince picked up the wallet and peered in. “Whoa. You're not kiddin' ol Vince. You do have two hundred in here — wait, it's more like three hundred.”

“Oh, come on, Vince. We need help here.”

“I know it.” He tossed the wallet on the closest table. Vince moved to Luke, knelt down, and swayed in uncertain balance for a moment. “The long walk must be getting to me. My head is spinning. That or too many years on the bottle. Roll over.”

Luke hesitated turning his back to the man.

“You want me to get that tape off or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry. It's been a rough day.” Luke struggled to roll over. He lay on his belly. He looked nervous to Judith. Nothing like being helpless before a stranger to set one's nerves on edge.

Vince fumbled with the tape but finally managed to get Luke's wrists free. He smiled at his accomplishment. Luke rolled over onto his back. “Thanks, Vince — ”

“Vince!”

Judith jumped at the voice. It was familiar. She had heard it a few times before Pennington drove off with the children. It belonged to the man Luke had knocked unconscious.

Vince shot to his feet, swayed, then steadied himself. “Ernie. You scared a year off my life. What's the matter with you?”

“What's the matter with
you
? What are you doing?” Ernie held a gun.

“They asked me to let them go.”

“So you thought you would help them out.”

“Yeah, of course. Wouldn't you?”

“I swear you get dumber by the week.” Ernie entered and pointed the gun at Luke's head. Luke raised his hands. Judith's newfound hope shattered like crystal on concrete.

“What are you doin' with that gun, Ernie? You know guns make me nervous.”

“Shut up, Vince. How did you get here, anyway?”

“You tell me to shut up then ask me a question. And they say my mind is going.”

“Answer me.”

Vince looked like a chastised puppy. “I walked. What do you think? The guy you had me pick up went off on me. Tossed me out of the car and threatened to run you over.”

“I knew I shouldn't have hired you for this. I should have left you in your trailer swilling your booze. You lousy drunk. You good-for-nothin' piece of trash. You blow your chance then come here and mess things up even more. What am I supposed to do now?”

“I may be nothin' but a stinkin' drunk, but I ain't wavin' no pistol at helpless people.”

“This helpless man threw pepper in my eyes then clobbered me with something hard. He nearly cracked my skull.”

Vince looked at Luke. “That true, boy?”

“Yeah, Vince, it is. I was trying to save the children.”

“What children?” Vince asked.

“Never mind,” Ernie said. “That's none of your business.”

Vince lowered his head. “What a pair we turned out to be, brother. You spend time in and out of jail, and I spend time in and out of bars and the drunk tank. We broke Momma's heart, we did. Sweetest woman on the planet and we turn out like this. First time in my life I feel glad she's dead. We can't hurt her anymore.”

“You have to leave, Vince. I have to finish this.”

“I ain't leaving, Ernie. I'm a no-good and I know it, but I know it ain't right to off two unarmed people who ain't done nothin' to me.”

“Go on. Get out!” Ernie's hand began to shake. Luke closed his eyes. Judith forced hers to stay open.

“No way, brother. We're in this together. I'm not leaving. You blow them away, you blow your life away too, and then there's nothing else for me to live for. You might as well put that piece to my head and pull the trigger.”

A tear escaped Ernie's eye. “You don't understand, Vince. You just don't get it.”

“Probably not, but I get a few things. I get that year after year you been there for me. You been cleaning up my messes, covering my debts, lying to Mom when she was alive to protect her from the truth about me.” Vince moved between Luke and Ernie, blocking any shot Ernie had. “Now it's my turn to look out for you.”

“And do what, Vince? What do you think I should do? If these guys go to the cops and identify me, I'm finished. Do you understand? Finished! I got two strikes on me. One more and I'll never see a prison from the outside again. Is that what you want? You want me to be locked up for the rest of my life? Who will look after you then?”

“I don't know what the answer is, bro. You know I can only think about one thing at a time and that's usually about where my next drink is coming from. Right now I'm just thinking that I can't let you kill these people. You're not a killer, Ernie. You've done a lot of bad things, but you ain't no killer.”

Judith wanted to speak, wanted to encourage Ernie to listen to Vince but she feared anything she said would inflame him. She bit her lip and watched.

“Come on, bro. Give me the gun. You take off and I'll stay here.” Vince stepped closer. “Hand it over, Ernie.”

“I can't.”

Another step closer. “Yes, you can. This may be the only thing I get right in my life, I ain't flushin' it. Give me the gun.” Vince's hand seemed steadier than Ernie's, maybe for the first time in years.

Ernie moved his head from side to side, slowly at first, then faster and faster. “No. I gotta do this. You don't know Pennington. You don't know the people he works for. I'm more afraid of them than I am the cops.”

He pivoted and swung the gun toward Judith. She screamed.

“NO!” Vince grabbed the gun and pulled it away from Judith … and toward himself.

The sound hurt Judith's ears. She recoiled the best she could, rolling away from Ernie.

“Vince? Vince!”

Judith rolled back to her side. Vince had the gun in his blood-covered hands. His eyes were wide and fixed on his brother. A trickle of thick crimson fluid trickled from his mouth. Ernie held him by the shoulders. Vince moved his mouth as if speaking but no words came.

His eyes rolled back, his jaw went slack, and he dropped to the floor.

“What have I done? Vince? Vince? Stay with me.” Ernie knelt down by his brother. “Vince, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't die, man. Stay with me. I … I need you, Vince.”

Luke began to move. His hands were free, but duct tape still bound his feet. He reached, he stretched, he scrambled for the gun which lay two feet from the fallen Vince. In mad motions Luke squirmed toward the weapon — then seized it.

Ernie made no move to prevent Luke's actions. His eyes were fixed on the widening circle of red spreading from his brother's chest. He began to weep.

Luke struggled to put distance between himself and Ernie, inching away on his back, the gun pointed at the assailant. When he was several feet away, he sat up and started working on the tape around his ankles. It came free quickly.

Slowly, eyes pinned to Ernie, Luke rose. If Ernie saw him he gave no indication of caring.

Less than a minute later, Luke had freed Judith. “Here, hold this.” He handed her the pistol.

“I don't want that.”

“You got it.” He forced it into her hand. It was warm.

Luke sprinted to Vince's side. Ernie wept from a torn soul. In a swift motion, he ripped Vince's blood-soaked shirt open. A gaping hole oozed blood from the left side of the man's chest.

“He's still breathing.”

“He's … he's not dead?” Ernie looked up.

“Give me your hand.”

“Why.”

“Just give it to me.” Ernie extended his arm and Luke grabbed it at the wrist, and pushed it toward the wound. “Press here. Press hard.”

Ernie did.

Luke sprang to his feet and looked around. A phone hung on the wall five feet from the entrance door. “Does that phone work?”

“I don't know.”

Luke sprinted to the phone. “I got a dial tone.” Judith watched him dial 9-1-1.

Returning to the fallen Vince, Luke examined the man again. Judith wasn't sure if Luke was being brave and noble or just foolish. Seeing him kneeling over a man he had known only for minutes and across from a hood who had come within a second or two of blowing their brains out filled Judith with warring emotions. They should flee. Let the assassin care for the drunk.

No sooner had the thought perched in the forefront of her mind than she felt awash in guilt. The man lying on the floor had saved their lives. It could have been, maybe should have been, them bleeding to death on the dusty wood floor. What did it matter that the man had an alcohol addiction? A hero lay dying. A hero unlikely in appearance and in life, but a hero nonetheless.

“His color is a little better,” Luke said to Ernie. “Keep your hand there. An ambulance will be here soon. There's still hope.”

Ernie looked up, his hand pressed to the hole in the front of his brother's chest. Thick red fluid seeped through his fingers. “I've killed my own brother.”

“Not yet you haven't.” Luke's words were firm. “He needs you to be steady, to be strong and focused.”

“He was always useless, always following me around, always in some kind of trouble — just like me. A drunk. He's nothing but a stupid, worthless drunk.” Ernie broke into tears, sobbing. Judith's heart gained ten pounds of grief. “I'll never forgive myself,” he said. “Not in this life or any other.”

“Hang in there.” Luke rose to his feet. “The last page of the story hasn't been written.”

Ernie looked up at Luke. “What are you going to tell the cops when they get here?”

“I don't plan to be here. I've got to catch up to your pal.” Luke paused. “Given the moment, I hate to ask this, but do you have a cell phone?”

“Clipped to my belt.”

“I have to take it. I can't have you warning Pennington.”

Ernie gave a nod. “I understand. I'd do the same.”

Stepping around to Ernie's back, Luke removed the cell phone and slipped it into his pocket. “We gotta go. Help will be here soon.”

Ernie said nothing.

“I wish I could do more.”

In a soft voice, Ernie said, “It's Becker, right? That's what Pennington called you when he went through your wallet.”

“Yeah. Becker.”

Judith moved closer. Something inside Ernie had turned down the volume.

“San Pedro. Pier F.
The Great Divide
.”

“The Great Divide?
What is that?” Judith asked.

“It's a boat. A big yacht of some kind, I think. I've never been to it, but I was supposed to drive the bus to the San Pedro Bay, Pier F.”

Luke moved in front of Ernie. “They're putting the kids on a boat.”

“I guess so. I don't know any more than that. Me and another guy were to drive the kids there. He busted an ankle. That left me so I hired Vince … and look where it's led.”

“A boat?” Luke said.

The Humvee's engine roared as Luke pressed the accelerator closer and closer to the floor. Judith sat in the passenger seat shaking from fear and the sudden realization that she
hadn't been killed. She wished for numbness; she wished for icy cold courage to replace the burning fear of uncertainty.

“Won't you attract attention driving so fast?” Judith pulled at her seat and shoulder belt one more time.

“There's no one to see us. Not yet. We might see the ambulance.”

“Let's hope we don't
run into
the ambulance. That won't do anyone any good.”

“You've never liked my driving.”

Judith recognized the effort to make light of the situation. It wasn't working. “What's to like?”

Luke didn't respond immediately. She could see that something was on his mind. She knew what it was. The same fear had taken up residence in her thoughts. “Do you think they're okay?”

BOOK: Finder's Fee
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