65 Proof by Jack Kilborn

Author:Jack Kilborn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joe Konrath
Published: 2011-02-16T16:00:00+00:00

“This better be it, Butts.”

“We’re almost there. I swear on it.”

Colin opened his crusty eyes, attempted to find his bearings.

He was surrounded by high grass, next to a giant elm. The sun peeked through the canopy at an angle; it was either early morning or late afternoon.

“You’ve been saying that for three hours, you little wank. You need a little more encouragement to find this place?”

“I’m not holding out on you, Willie. Don’t hit me again.”

Colin squinted in the direction of the voices. Butts and two others. They weren’t street people, either. Both wore clean clothes, good shoes. The smaller one, Willie, had a bowler hat and a matching black vest. The larger sported a beard, along with a chest big as a whiskey barrel.

Butts had taken on some partners.

Colin tried to stand, but felt weak and dizzy. He knelt for a moment, trying to clear his head. When the cobwebs dissipated, he began to trail the trio.

“Tell us again, Butts, how much loot there is in this place.”

“It’s crammed full, Jake. All that old, antiquey stuff. I’m telling you, that jewelry box was just a taste.”

“Better be, Butts, or you’ll be wearing your yarbles around your filthy neck.”

“I swear, Willie. You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

Colin stayed ten yards back, keeping low, moving quiet. Several times he lost sight of them, but they were a loud bunch and easy to track. His rage grew with each step.

This house was his big break, his shot at a better life. He didn’t want to share it with anybody. He may have choked when trying to off Van Helsing, but when they arrived at the house, Colin vowed to kill them all.

“Hey, Willie. Some bloke is following us.”

“Eh?”

“In the woods. There.”

Colin froze. The man named Jake stared, pointing through the brush.

“Who’s there, then? Don’t make me run you down.”

“That’s Colin. He came here with me.”

Damned Butts.

“He knows about this place? Jake, go get the little bleeder!”

Colin ran, but Jake was fast. Within moments the bigger man caught Colin’s arm and threw him to the ground.

“Trying to run from me, eh?”

A swift kick caught Colin in the ribs, searing pain stealing his breath.

“I hate running. Hate it.”

Another kick. Colin groaned. Bright spots swirled in his vision.

“Get up, wanker. Let’s go talk to Willie.”

Jake grabbed Colin by the ear and tugged him along, dumping him at Willie’s feet.

“Why didn’t you tell us about your mate, Butts?”

“I thought he’d gone. I swear it.”

Jake let loose with another kick. Colin curled up fetal, began to cry.

“Should we kill him, Willie?”

“Not yet. We might need an extra body, help take back some of the loot. You hear me, you drug-addled bastard? We’re going to keep you around for awhile, as long as you’re helpful.”

Butts knelt next to Colin and smiled, brown teeth flashing. “Get up, Colin. They’re not going to kill you.” He helped Colin gain his footing, keeping a steady arm around his shoulders until they arrived at the house.

In the daylight, the house’s aristocratic appearance was overtaken by the many apparent flaws; peeling paint, cracked foundation, sunken roof.

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