Savages by Bill Pronzini

Savages by Bill Pronzini

Author:Bill Pronzini [Pronzini, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780765309334
Publisher: Forge Books
Published: 2007-07-10T06:00:00+00:00


12

FIREBUG

Burn!

Come on come on come on—burn!

“What’s taking so long? You sure you set the timer right?”

“I know how to do it, don’t I?”

“It’s been fifteen minutes already.”

“I set it for twenty. I just wanted to be sure we had enough time.”

“Shit. Fifteen was all we needed. What’s the matter with you?”

“You know what the matter is. I just don’t think we should be doing this again so soon.”

“Why not? You like it as much as I do.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling, that’s all. So soon after . . . Manuel.”

Burn, damn you, burn!

“We had to kill him. We didn’t have any choice.”

“I know, but God, I can still see his face. It makes me sick.”

“Everything makes you sick. Here, smoke a joint, get calmed down.”

“I don’t want one right now.”

“It’s better when you’re high, you know that.”

“I’ll just take a hit off yours. . . .”

“No. Fire up your own.”

Small flame, hot, bright, but gone too quick.

“Doesn’t it bother you? A little?”

“What?”

“What we did to Manuel.”

“No. I’m just glad he came to us first. If he hadn’t . . .”

“I keep having nightmares about it. The sound when you hit him with the board, the blood, the way his head looked. And his face after we dragged him up on the rope . . . we didn’t have to do that.”

“I had to. I never saw anybody hanging before. Besides, it wasn’t as messy as beating his head in.”

“He was already dead, wasn’t he?”

“No, he wasn’t. He was still breathing.”

“Oh Jesus!”

“Why do you think he danced like he did when we pulled him up, why his tongue turned all black? He strangled on that rope.”

“Don’t!”

“You’re a baby, baby.”

“I can’t help it. It took so long, we almost didn’t get away after you hit that detective. You didn’t have to hit him; he didn’t know we were there.”

“I wanted to hit him. So I did.”

“He’d be gone by now if you hadn’t. He scares me. He’s not stupid. What if he—?”

“Not stupid, but not as smart as I am. None of them are.”

“But if we keep on the way we have been—”

“We’re not going to.”

“We’re not? No lie?”

“We’re going to get even more creative. More fun, more payback.”

“Oh God, fun. Do we have to . . . you know?”

“We’ve already done it. The fire’s just the finishing touch.”

“I don’t think I want to be there. . . .”

“Well, you’re going to. You know you always do what I want you to.”

“I know, but—”

“Say it.”

“. . . I always do what you want me to.”

“Tell me why.”

“You know why.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Most of the time. Hey, you know what would’ve been really cool? If we could’ve hung Runyon, too. Right next to Manuel, side by side, like in those old cowboy flicks.”

“That’s gross! Sometimes . . .”

“Sometimes what?”

“You scare me. You’re so . . .”

“So what? Crazy? Maybe I am; I don’t care. Taking risks, having fun, getting even, that’s what it’s all about.



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