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August 26, 2008
Batesville Installment Sixteen
“What…what the fuck was that, man. Jesus fuck, Paul. What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” It’s the first time Bob’s talked since they left the restaurant. Paul just keeps driving, not knowing how to reply. “You ever hear about his dogs, man? I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known this crazy ass shit would go down if we hung around that crazy motherfucker long enough! Fuck me!”
“What about his dogs?” asks Paul, still paying attention to the road but even more attention to his rearview mirrors, seeing that Earl’s still following them.
“His step-brother Jason was telling me about this shit a while back. See, he had this mutt, I don’t know what kind of mix, and one day it bit him. So he gets up, pulls out a .22 and shoots it.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t die. It just stands there kind of dazed, so Earl starts shooting it, empties the clip on the poor creature. Still not fucking dead. So he pops in another clip and finally kills it. Twenty three bullets he put in the god damned dog, Paul.”
“What the fuck…”
“Yeah, but see he gets another dog, raises it from a pup. Has it for two years, and it bites him. So he pulls out a .45 this time and shoots it in his backyard, with the neighbor’s kids standing there watching.”
“Motherfuck.”
“Thirteen shots this time. Jason was telling me the dog’s tail was wagging the whole time, staring up at Earl with those big dog eyes.”
“We gotta get away from these psychos, Bob. We need to go to the cops.”
“If we pull off the road now they will follow us and they will kill us, Paul. Let’s be cool and once we get a chance, then we tear the fuck out of here.”
“Looks like they’re signaling to exit now.”
“Go with the flow, man. Just be cool.” Bob and Paul pull into the gas station off 50 highway with Earl’s car behind them. They get out of their car and walk over to Earl’s.
Earl gets out of the car, trying to look tough. Paul knows that Earl’s not trying to cover up being scared, he’s just trying to look like someone from a rap video. What the fuck? “Earl, man, where the hell are we going?”
“To my uncle’s old house. Far as I know it’s been sitting vacant since he died. We can hole up there until the cops move on.” You shot a pregnant teenager in the belly, dipshit. Do you really think they’re going to let this drop, thinks Paul. “Right now I need some smokes and some papers, though, so if you gentlemen don’t mind…”
“Go right on ahead, boss.” Paul leans against the car next to Bob. One of Earl’s hanger’s on stays with them, smoking a cigarette.
They stand out there for longer than the purchase should take. No one of the three of them says a word, though, the discomfort in the air palpable. As Earl’s man lights up his second smoke, the silence is broken by a quick succession of gunshots. Earl and his men come strolling out of the station, each carrying a case of beer. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Earl calmly says as he walks past Paul. Not in an ‘Oh god, let’s hurry’ sort of way, but in a ‘This place is boring me to tears way’.
“Where’s your uncle’s place at again?” Paul asks, trying to keep his composure.
“Batesville.”
Posted by Schamberger at August 26, 2008 06:57 PM