2 Dog River Blues by Mike Jastrzebski

Author:Mike Jastrzebski [Jastrzebski, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-08-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The blow stunned me and I slid off the chair. Fish rushed across the room, grabbed the collar of my shirt, and manhandled me to my feet. At the same time Rusty reached down and plucked my phone from its holster.

“You won’t need this.” Rusty jabbed the gun into my ribs. “Fish, there’s some rope in the kitchen drawer next to the fridge. Let’s get Wes here tied up. Then I think we need to make a trip to the bayou.”

“I know just the place,” Fish said.

It was as if I’d traded my brain for a gyroscope and my knees began to buckle. When Fish released me I felt like I was on the deck of a boat in the middle of a storm. I would have fallen if Rusty hadn’t reached out and gripped my elbow.

“I’m too old to carry you,” Rusty said. “You can walk to the bedroom or I can have Fish drag you. It’s the open doorway up ahead and to your right.”

“What difference does it make? You’re going to kill me either way.”

“Not true. We’re going to take you somewhere and dump you. By the time you make your way out the book will be gone and we can stop this nonsense.”

We both knew he was lying, but I figured as long as I was alive I had a chance of escaping. I took a tentative step, then another. Rusty released my arm and I tottered toward the door he’d indicated.

The room reeked of old cigarette smoke and mildew. The draperies looked expensive, but even to my untrained eye appeared outdated and dingy. Once again, the most noticeable feature of the room was the lack of furniture. There was a bed with a blue and pink bedspread, and an end table with a light sitting on it.

Rusty nudged me toward the bed with the gun.

“Face down on the bed,” he said. “Hands behind your back.”

As I climbed onto the bed Fish entered the room. He held a length of rope in one hand and a knife in the other. With a nod from Rusty he moved over to the bed and began tying my hands behind my back. He then tied my legs and the two of them left the room, closing the door behind them.

The bedspread was so stiff that it felt like a Brillo pad rubbing against the side of my face. I counted to ten to make sure no one was going to walk back into the room, and then I went to work on my bindings.

My struggles bore no fruit. All I got for my efforts were rope-burned wrists, and a vicious pounding in my head. A wave of nausea washed over me that was so severe I thought I’d pass out. I was on the verge of losing the battle to stay alert, when the door opened and Rusty walked in.

“Wes. I’m sorry about all this. I like you, and I wish we could have come to some sort of an agreement.

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