Chapter 10
Michael lunged at the man standing nearest to him and tried to tackle him. The large man didn’t budge, just stood in the same spot looking down at his friend.
“What’re you doing?” the man said, speaking in a real slow tone.
Michael swung at the man, hitting him in the thigh. If it hurt, the man didn’t reveal it.
“Little feller’s got some fight in him,” the other man said.
The other man shook his leg and Michael slid off, falling back to the rock.
“You aren’t going to get me!” he said.
“Why the crap would we wanna get you?” the other man said.
“You killed him and now you’re here for me!”
The first man laughed. “We didn’t kill nothing. Heck, we ain’t seen nothing tonight.”
“Yeah, we didn’t shoot that feller,” said the second man. “We’s looking for deer.”
Michael scooted back. “You aren’t here to kill me?”
“Heck no. We don’t kill nothing unless we plan on eating it.”
“Cept for crows. We’re pretty fond of shooting crows.”
“Then how’d you wind up here?”
“We was down at the boat ramp and heard a shot,” the first man said. He looked at the second man, who was nodding in agreement. “I figgered somebody was shooting at this buck we been chasing and I was hoping we’d get here first.”
“Yeah,” the second man said as he leaned down to look at Bubba. “Dadgum, he’s got a big old hole in his gourd!”
“Right 'tween the eyeballs,” said the other man, who was also leaning close to look. He turned back to Michael. “You ain’t gonna try and tackle me again, is you?”
Michael shook his head. “No. We need to call the authorities.”
“The what?” asked the first man.
“You know, the cops.”
“I don’t much care for the law,” said the second man. “I got like five warrants out for me.”
“I only got three,” said the other man. “That fat cop in Langston is on me like stink on a fresh dog log.”
He wouldn’t be for a while, Michael thought. “Can you guys get service?”
“I ain’t in a while but old Ben got some last weekend at the bar,” the first man said.
“No, not that kind of service. I meant on your cell phone?”
“Ain’t got no seller phone,” said the second man. “We do got a CB in the truck.”
“Yeah, we can talk clear to Hodgen on it,” said the first man. He looked closer at Bubba. “Durn, he got whacked a good one.”
“Yep, he pee’d all over hisself.”
“I think he dropped a load, too.”
“Can you try and get hold of somebody with your CB?” Michael said.
“I reckon. Who you want me to call?”
“Anybody who could call the sheriff.”
“Can’t you do it?” the first man said. “The sheriff said he’d lock me up the next time he saw me.”
“I can’t move very good,” Michael said. “I did something to my knee.”
“Looks like you hurt your wrist, too. That thing’s bent like a chicken wing.”
“I'd like me some chicken wings 'bout now,” the second man said.
“I’m mighty partial for the breasts,” the first man said.
“Yeah, but that’s cause you can’t get none!”
They laughed for way longer than Michael thought was necessary. “Why don’t you just get on the CB and call for somebody? Don’t tell them your name.”
“That’d work,” the first man said. “Hike up there and tell em to call the cops.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“Cause I figgered you could make better time. I got that hemorrhoid problem.”
“You is a pain in the butt,” the other man said. He did start walking up the steps. Michael could hear him huffing after a few steps.
“Why're you out here?” the other man said. “You and him got something going on? I hear there’s a lotta homo stuff that takes place out here.”
“No, he needed to tell me something. I’m not gay.”
The man nodded, his beard swishing against his clothes. “The dead dude didn’t much look like a girly guy.”
Michael wanted to say he wasn’t a girly guy either, but let it drop. This wasn’t the type of conversation he wanted to engage in.
They sat in silence for a few minutes until the other man hollered. “I got hold of somebody. They’re gonna call the cops!”
-------
He moved in silence through the thick woods, just like he had done so many times before. Some of the tricks he learned in the service, most of them were taught by his father back when they went hunting when Jimmy Don was a young boy.
Jimmy Don knew these woods like the back of his hands. He knew all the areas to avoid and the ones that were easy to move through. Up ahead, the lights in the cabin were blaring. It was a new cabin, much nicer than any other one that could be found around here.
There was a big porch on the front with three rockers on it. Nobody was using them at the moment. He knew the men liked to sit in the rockers and drink their fancy drinks. There was one man standing on the porch, leaning against the rail.
The man was supposed to be a lookout, but was not paying any attention. He didn’t expect there to be any trouble. Nobody would want to mess with them, Jimmy Don figured the man was thinking. Jimmy Don planned to change that opinion. He moved up next to the house and looked inside the window.
There were two men sitting at the table. One was the guy who Jimmy Don had shot at earlier. They were talking and laughing about something. Another man came out of a back room. This was a new one Jimmy Don had not seen him before. It was a face he would remember, one of pure evil and meanness with just a touch of shrewdness.
Jimmy Don wasn’t sure, but figured he had just seen the leader of this group. He wasn’t sure what they were doing here in this valley, but planned on finding out. He moved silently against the wall, ducking down at every window until he reached the porch. The man was smoking a cigar and looking down the road.
It was almost too easy. Jimmy Don reached out and grabbed the man, never letting a sound escape. That part was easy. What was fixing to happen wouldn’t be such a breeze.
----------
In the OSBI office, the lab tech came into the office where two agents were discussing the college football game coming up on Saturday.
Oklahoma was playing Oklahoma State. OU was favored as usual, but since the game was in Stillwater, they were both a little concerned. The Cowboys had surprised a lot of people by losing only one game this year, to Texas, and would like nothing better than to knock the Sooners from the rank of the undefeated.
The lab tech was a young man, only twenty-five, making time here until something better opened up. He knew his stuff. Since the agent found the pistol in the office of what used to be the Langford Review, surprising both him and his supervisor, the tech had been working on the gun.
The two men stopped talking and waited for the report. “The bullets match. Guess who the fingerprints go to?”
He told them and the two men forgot about the football game for a few minutes
“What’re you doing?” the man said, speaking in a real slow tone.
Michael swung at the man, hitting him in the thigh. If it hurt, the man didn’t reveal it.
“Little feller’s got some fight in him,” the other man said.
The other man shook his leg and Michael slid off, falling back to the rock.
“You aren’t going to get me!” he said.
“Why the crap would we wanna get you?” the other man said.
“You killed him and now you’re here for me!”
The first man laughed. “We didn’t kill nothing. Heck, we ain’t seen nothing tonight.”
“Yeah, we didn’t shoot that feller,” said the second man. “We’s looking for deer.”
Michael scooted back. “You aren’t here to kill me?”
“Heck no. We don’t kill nothing unless we plan on eating it.”
“Cept for crows. We’re pretty fond of shooting crows.”
“Then how’d you wind up here?”
“We was down at the boat ramp and heard a shot,” the first man said. He looked at the second man, who was nodding in agreement. “I figgered somebody was shooting at this buck we been chasing and I was hoping we’d get here first.”
“Yeah,” the second man said as he leaned down to look at Bubba. “Dadgum, he’s got a big old hole in his gourd!”
“Right 'tween the eyeballs,” said the other man, who was also leaning close to look. He turned back to Michael. “You ain’t gonna try and tackle me again, is you?”
Michael shook his head. “No. We need to call the authorities.”
“The what?” asked the first man.
“You know, the cops.”
“I don’t much care for the law,” said the second man. “I got like five warrants out for me.”
“I only got three,” said the other man. “That fat cop in Langston is on me like stink on a fresh dog log.”
He wouldn’t be for a while, Michael thought. “Can you guys get service?”
“I ain’t in a while but old Ben got some last weekend at the bar,” the first man said.
“No, not that kind of service. I meant on your cell phone?”
“Ain’t got no seller phone,” said the second man. “We do got a CB in the truck.”
“Yeah, we can talk clear to Hodgen on it,” said the first man. He looked closer at Bubba. “Durn, he got whacked a good one.”
“Yep, he pee’d all over hisself.”
“I think he dropped a load, too.”
“Can you try and get hold of somebody with your CB?” Michael said.
“I reckon. Who you want me to call?”
“Anybody who could call the sheriff.”
“Can’t you do it?” the first man said. “The sheriff said he’d lock me up the next time he saw me.”
“I can’t move very good,” Michael said. “I did something to my knee.”
“Looks like you hurt your wrist, too. That thing’s bent like a chicken wing.”
“I'd like me some chicken wings 'bout now,” the second man said.
“I’m mighty partial for the breasts,” the first man said.
“Yeah, but that’s cause you can’t get none!”
They laughed for way longer than Michael thought was necessary. “Why don’t you just get on the CB and call for somebody? Don’t tell them your name.”
“That’d work,” the first man said. “Hike up there and tell em to call the cops.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“Cause I figgered you could make better time. I got that hemorrhoid problem.”
“You is a pain in the butt,” the other man said. He did start walking up the steps. Michael could hear him huffing after a few steps.
“Why're you out here?” the other man said. “You and him got something going on? I hear there’s a lotta homo stuff that takes place out here.”
“No, he needed to tell me something. I’m not gay.”
The man nodded, his beard swishing against his clothes. “The dead dude didn’t much look like a girly guy.”
Michael wanted to say he wasn’t a girly guy either, but let it drop. This wasn’t the type of conversation he wanted to engage in.
They sat in silence for a few minutes until the other man hollered. “I got hold of somebody. They’re gonna call the cops!”
-------
He moved in silence through the thick woods, just like he had done so many times before. Some of the tricks he learned in the service, most of them were taught by his father back when they went hunting when Jimmy Don was a young boy.
Jimmy Don knew these woods like the back of his hands. He knew all the areas to avoid and the ones that were easy to move through. Up ahead, the lights in the cabin were blaring. It was a new cabin, much nicer than any other one that could be found around here.
There was a big porch on the front with three rockers on it. Nobody was using them at the moment. He knew the men liked to sit in the rockers and drink their fancy drinks. There was one man standing on the porch, leaning against the rail.
The man was supposed to be a lookout, but was not paying any attention. He didn’t expect there to be any trouble. Nobody would want to mess with them, Jimmy Don figured the man was thinking. Jimmy Don planned to change that opinion. He moved up next to the house and looked inside the window.
There were two men sitting at the table. One was the guy who Jimmy Don had shot at earlier. They were talking and laughing about something. Another man came out of a back room. This was a new one Jimmy Don had not seen him before. It was a face he would remember, one of pure evil and meanness with just a touch of shrewdness.
Jimmy Don wasn’t sure, but figured he had just seen the leader of this group. He wasn’t sure what they were doing here in this valley, but planned on finding out. He moved silently against the wall, ducking down at every window until he reached the porch. The man was smoking a cigar and looking down the road.
It was almost too easy. Jimmy Don reached out and grabbed the man, never letting a sound escape. That part was easy. What was fixing to happen wouldn’t be such a breeze.
----------
In the OSBI office, the lab tech came into the office where two agents were discussing the college football game coming up on Saturday.
Oklahoma was playing Oklahoma State. OU was favored as usual, but since the game was in Stillwater, they were both a little concerned. The Cowboys had surprised a lot of people by losing only one game this year, to Texas, and would like nothing better than to knock the Sooners from the rank of the undefeated.
The lab tech was a young man, only twenty-five, making time here until something better opened up. He knew his stuff. Since the agent found the pistol in the office of what used to be the Langford Review, surprising both him and his supervisor, the tech had been working on the gun.
The two men stopped talking and waited for the report. “The bullets match. Guess who the fingerprints go to?”
He told them and the two men forgot about the football game for a few minutes
posted by Craig Hall | 4:26 PM
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