Just for the Birds by Jinx Schwartz

Author:Jinx Schwartz [Schwartz, Jinx]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

THE MINUTE GOON number one told Topaz to wait where she was and walked out of earshot from her car, I called her on the VHF radio. I knew for sure that, unlike cell service, I was in a direct line of sight to her.

After some static and dead air, I heard, “Hetta, I’m in.”

“Topaz, thank God! You have to get out of there. Now! They have captive women in the aviary. This thing has just gotten really dangerous.”

“I know. I was watching as they unloaded the women. Just keep an eye on me. Gotta go, here they come.”

Much to my dismay, I watched as Topaz stayed put. Po Thang, on the other hand, began bouncing off the headliner and doors when he saw goons one, two, and three coming back. The car windows fogged with furious dog breath and dripped with drool.

The men surrounded Topaz’s car, guns aimed at her. Even I could tell these guys were not properly trained from the way they handled their weapons and wondered if they even had ammo. Topaz, however, was a trained professional, I kept telling myself. She can handle them.

Before rolling down her window, she wrapped Po Thang’s leash around the passenger seat to shorten his access. Pasting on a smile, and talking to Goon One, she seemed to be apologizing for my badly behaved dog—I just gotta learn to read lips!—right before the thug tried to open the door, found it locked, and reached inside to unlock it. Bad move, dummy!

Topaz must have grabbed his hand, for the window slid closed, trapping him as the car, tires smoking, suddenly sped backward, dragging him along. He screamed and cussed as she hauled him through a cactus garden and crashed through the flimsy gates. I could hear his howling clearly. Oh, wait, that was Po Thang, who probably wanted a piece of that tasty arm.

The other two slackers, most likely reluctant to shoot at a car their friend was attached to, froze in place for a moment, then gave chase, but none too enthusiastically. Movement in the yard caught my eye, and a fourth man ran from the house, took aim, and coolly shot out the rental car’s front tires.

The car skidded into a dirt embankment on the other side of the road and came to a stop, covered in pieces of gate, dust, and with Goon One still attached. The man who shot out the tires—I figured he was the boss, so I named him Jefe—shouted orders to his other two minions, but they remained fixed in place.

Topaz slammed the door open, smooshing Goon Numero Uno against the car, and he dropped his gun. She jumped out, swooped it up and aimed it at the trapped guy’s crotch.

Po Thang, now free himself, bounded out of the car behind Topaz and began chomping on the guy’s jeans. He might have caught a little flesh by pure accident, because the idiot screamed like the heroine in a chainsaw movie and kicked at my dog with his other foot.

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